LADY ELLA. Oh! but——
MAUD. It's all right; they're almost leather.
[THE RECTOR re-enters, with a slight look of insecurity.]
LADY ELLA. Rector, are you sure it's safe?
THE RECTOR. [Hitching at his trousers] No, indeed, LADY Ella—I——
LADY ELLA. Tommy, do lend a hand!
THE SQUIRE. All right, Ella; all right! He doesn't mean what you mean!
LADY ELLA. [Transferring EDWARD to THE SQUIRE] Hold him, Tommy.
He's sure to smell out Hannibal!
THE SQUIRE. [Taking EDWARD by the collar, and holding his own nose] Jove! Clever if he can smell anything but himself. Phew! She ought to have the Victoria Cross for goin' in that pond.
[The door opens, and HERSELF appears; a fine, frank, handsome woman, in a man's orange-coloured motor-coat, hastily thrown on over the substrata of costume.]