Mrs. Ard. So many in her position do, don't they? (So far as she is concerned—they all do.) You'd think it was haughtiness—but it's really only manner.
Mrs. All. (feeling that she can go ahead with safety now). I have never found anything of that sort in Lady Neuraline myself (which is perfectly true.) She's rather odd and flighty, but quite a dear. By the way, how sad it is about those poor dear Chutneys—the Countess, don't you know!
Mrs. Ard. Ah (as if she knew all the rest of the family), I don't know her at all.
Mrs. All. Such a sweet woman—but the trouble she's had with her eldest boy, Lord Mango! He married quite beneath him, you know, some girl from the provinces—not a county-family girl even.
Mrs. Ard. (shocked). Dear, dear! not a county family!
Mrs. All. No; somebody quite common—I forget the name, but it was either Gherkin or Onion, or something of that sort. I was told they had been in Chili a good while. Poor Mango never had much taste, or he would never have got mixed up with such a set. Anyway, he's got himself into a terrible pickle. I hear Capsicums is actually to be sold to pay his debts.
Mrs. All. You don't say so! Capsicums! Gracious!
Mrs. All. Yes, isn't it a pity! Such a lovely old place as it was, too—the most comfortable house to stay at in all England; so beautifully warm! But it's dreadful to think of how the aristocracy are taking to marry out of their own set. Look at the Duke of Dragnet—married a Miss Duckweed—goodness only knows where he picked her up! but he got entangled somehow, and now his people are trying to get rid of her. I see so many of these cases. Well, I'm afraid I must wish you good evening—it's my time for retiring. (Patronisingly.) I've quite enjoyed the conversation—such a pleasure in a place like this to come across a genial companion!
Mrs. Ard. (fluttered and flattered). I'm sure you're exceedingly kind to say so, and I can say the same for myself. I hope we may become better acquainted. (To herself, after Mrs. Allbutt has departed.) I've quite taken to that woman—she's so thoroughly the lady, and moves in very high society, too. You can tell that from the way she talks. What's that paper on the table? (She picks up a journal in a coloured wrapper.) "Society Snippets, the Organ of the Upper Ten. One Penny." The very thing I wanted. It's such a comfort to know who's who. (She opens it and reads sundry paragraphs headed "Through the Keyhole.") Now how funny this is! Here's the very same thing about the dulness of the Season that she said. That shows she must be really in it. And a note about Lady Neuraline being about to recruit at Homburg. And another about her reputation or eccentricity, and her "sweetness to the select few privileged to be her intimates." And here's all about Lord Mango, and what a pleasant house Capsicums is, and his marriage, and the Duke of Dragnet's, too. Her information was very correct, I must say! (A light begins to break in upon her.) I wonder whether——but there—people of her sort wouldn't require to read the papers for such things.
[Here the door opens, and Mrs. Allbutt appears, in some embarrassment.