[Matthew gives a glance around the room.
Matthew. Ah, here's the choir! [He moves forward to meet it. Choir Boys come in very orderly; divide and take their places, an even number on each side of the altar of flowers. Matthew vaguely superintends. Philip gets in the way of the bell and moves out of the way. Thomas comes in.] Thomas, I directed you—One moment, if you please. [He indicates the tables and chairs which Thomas hastens to push against the wall.
Philip. [Walking forward and looking around him.] Where's Cynthia? [Cynthia rises, and, at the movement, Philip sees her and moves toward her. The organ grows suddenly silent.
Cynthia. [Faintly.] Here I am.
[Matthew comes down. Organ plays softly.
Matthew. [To Cynthia.] Ah, my very dear Cynthia, I knew there was something. Let me tell you the words of the hymn I have chosen:
"Enduring love; sweet end of strife!
Oh, bless this happy man and wife!"
I'm afraid you feel—eh—eh!
Cynthia. [Desperately calm.] I feel awfully queer—I think I need a scotch.
Organ stops. Philip remains uneasily at a little distance. Mrs. Phillimore and Grace enter back slowly, as cheerfully as if they were going to hear the funeral service read. They remain near the doorway.