Miss Heneage is seated at the tea-table, facing the footlights. Mrs. Phillimore is seated at the table on the right. Thomas stands near by. Tea things on table. Decanter of sherry in coaster. Bread and butter on plate. Vase with flowers. Silver match-box. Large old-fashioned tea urn. Guard for flame. "The Evening Post" on tea-table. Miss Heneage and Mrs. Phillimore both have cups of tea. Miss Heneage sits up very straight, and pours tea for Grace, who enters from door. She is a pretty and fashionably dressed girl of twenty. She speaks superciliously, coolly, and not too fast. She sits on the sofa gracefully and without lounging. She wears a gown suitable for spring visiting, hat, parasol, and gloves.
Grace. [As she moves to the sofa.] I never in my life walked so far and found so few people at home. [Pauses. Takes off gloves. Somewhat querulously.] The fact is the nineteenth of May is ridiculously late to be in town.
Miss Heneage. Thomas, Mr. Phillimore's sherry?
Thomas. [Indicating the particular table.] The sherry, ma'am.
Miss Heneage. Mr. Phillimore's Post?
Thomas. [Pointing to "The Evening Post" on the tea-table.] The Post, ma'am.
Miss Heneage. [Indicating cup.] Miss Phillimore.
Thomas takes cup of tea to Grace. Silence. They all sip tea. Thomas goes back, fills sherry glass, remaining round and about the tea-table. They all drink tea during their entire conversation.
Grace. The Dudleys were at home. They wished to know when my brother Philip was to be married, and where and how?
Miss Heneage. If the Dudleys were persons of breeding, they'd not intrude their curiosity upon you.