Mrs. Farrant. [Looking at Frances a little curiously.] Didn't your instinct lead you to marry ... or did you fight against it?
Frances Trebell. I don't know. Perhaps I had no vitality to spare.
Lady Davenport. That boy is a long time proposing to Lucy.
This effectually startles the other two from their conversational reverie.
Mrs. Farrant. Walter? I'm not sure that he means to. She means to marry him if he does.
Frances Trebell. Has she told you so?
Mrs. Farrant. No. I judge by her business-like interest in his welfare.
Frances Trebell. He's beginning to feel the responsibility of manhood ... doesn't know whether to be frightened or proud of it.
Lady Davenport. It's a pretty thing to watch young people mating. When they're older and marry from disappointment or deliberate choice, thinking themselves so worldly-wise....
Mrs. Farrant, [Back to her politely cynical mood.] Well ... then at least they don't develop their differences at the same fire-side, regretting the happy time when neither possessed any character at all.