ROBERT.
[Pointing.] Yes, down; straight down. How do you say that over in Italy?
ARCHIE.
That? Giù. [Pointing down and up.] That is giù and this is sù. Do you want to speak to my pappie?
ROBERT.
Yes. I came to see him.
ARCHIE.
[Going towards the study.] I will tell him. He is in there, writing.
BEATRICE.
[Calmly, looking at Robert.] No; he is out. He is gone to the post with some letters.
ROBERT.
[Lightly.] O, never mind. I will wait if he is only gone to the post.
ARCHIE.
But mamma is coming. [He glances towards the window.] Here she is!
[Archie runs out by the door on the left. Beatrice walks slowly towards the davenport. Robert remains standing. A short silence. Archie and Bertha come in through the door on the left. Bertha is a young woman of graceful build. She has dark grey eyes, patient in expression, and soft features. Her manner is cordial and selfpossessed. She wears a lavender dress and carries her cream gloves knotted round the handle of her sunshade.]
BERTHA.
[Shaking hands.] Good evening, Miss Justice. We thought you were still down in Youghal.
BEATRICE.
[Shaking hands.] Good evening, Mrs Rowan.