Podb. You have, and no mistake. She's regularly taken me in hand, don't you know—she says I've no intelligent appreciation of Italian Art; and gad, I believe she's right there! But I'm pulling up—bound to teach you a lot, seeing all the old altar-pieces I do! And she gives me the right tips, don't you see; she's no end of a clever girl, so well-read and all that! But I say—about Miss Trotter? Don't want to be inquisitive, you know, but you don't seem to be much about with her.
Culch. I—er—the feelings I entertain towards Miss Trotter have suffered no change—quite the reverse, only—and I wish to impress this upon you, Podbury—it is undesirable, for—er—many reasons, to make my attentions—er—too conspicuous. I—I trust you have not alluded to the matter to—well, to Miss Prendergast, for example?
Podb. Not I, old fellow—got other things to talk about. But I don't quite see why——
Culch. You are not required to see. I don't wish it, that is all. I—er—think that should be sufficient.
Podb. Oh, all right, I'll keep dark. But she's bound to know sooner or later, now she and Miss Trotter have struck up such a friendship. And Hypatia will be awfully pleased about it—why shouldn't she, you know? ... I'm going to see if there's any one on the tennis-court, and get a game if I can. Ta-ta!
Culch. (alone). Podbury knows very little about women. If Hyp—Miss Prendergast—once found out why I renounced my suitorship, I should have very little peace, I know that—I've taken particular care not to betray my attachment to Maud. I'm afraid she's beginning to notice it, but I must be careful. I don't like this sudden intimacy between them—it makes things so very awkward. They've been sitting under that tree over there for the last half-hour, and goodness only knows what confidences they may have exchanged! I really must go up and put a stop to it, presently.
"BOUND TO TEACH YOU A LOT, SEEING ALL THE OLD ALTAR-PIECES I DO!"
UNDER THE TREE.