TREHERNE. So—so. They are rather weak in bowling, but it’s a good bit of turf. (Confidence is restored by the entrance of ERNEST, who takes in the situation promptly, and, of course, knows he is a match for any old lady.)
ERNEST (with ease). How do you do, Lady Brocklehurst.
LADY BROCKLEHURST. Our brilliant author!
ERNEST (impervious to satire). Oh, I don’t know.
LADY BROCKLEHURST. It is as engrossing, Mr. Woolley, as if it were a work of fiction.
ERNEST (suddenly uncomfortable). Thanks, awfully. (Recovering.) The fact is—(He is puzzled by seeing the Brocklehurst family exchange meaning looks.)
CATHERINE (to the rescue). Lady Brocklehurst, Mr. Treherne and I—we are engaged.
AGATHA. And Ernest and I.
LADY BROCKLEHURST (grimly). I see, my dears; thought it wise to keep the island in the family.
(An awkward moment this for the entrance of LORD LOAM and LADY MARY, who, after a private talk upstairs, are feeling happy and secure.)