GERALD. Thank you for the assurance, darling.—Father, you don't mind what mother says, I hope. I believe there's some truth in it—don't you?
MR. BARLOW. I have nothing to say.
WINIFRED. I think there's some truth in it, daddy. You were always worrying about those horrid colliers, and they didn't care a bit about you. And they OUGHT to gave cared a million pounds.
MR. BARLOW. You don't understand, my child.
(Curtain.)
ACT II
SCENE: Evening of the same day. Drawing-room at Lilly Close. MR.
BARLOW, GERALD, WINIFRED, ANABEL OLIVER present. Butler pours
coffee.
MR. BARLOW. And you are quite a stranger in these parts, Miss Wrath?
ANABEL. Practically. But I was born at Derby.
MR. BARLOW. I was born in this house—but it was a different affair then: my father was a farmer, you know. The coal has brought us what moderate wealth we have. Of course, we were never poor or needy—farmers, substantial farmers. And I think we were happier so—yes.—Winnie, dear, hand Miss Wrath the sweets. I hope they're good. I ordered them from London for you.—Oliver, my boy, have you everything you like? That's right.—It gives me such pleasure to see a little festive gathering in this room again. I wish Bertie and Elinor might be here. What time is it, Gerald?