El. [taking up the letter, reads]. “Now chiefly occupies himself with works of charity and benevolence. One of his special hobbies is the introduction of æsthetic principles into Kindergartens.” How refreshing to meet a man at last who takes a living interest in the welfare of his fellow-creatures! I am sure I shall like him. [ Writes, and rings the bell.]
Enter Charles.
Lady E. Please put this in the post, Charles. [Exit Charles.] Now I must go and get ready to go out riding with papa, and reconcile him to the dreadful idea of having “a Radical, a plutocrat, and an infidel” at his dinner-table. [Exit Elaine.
(A month elapses.)
Scene IV.—Lady Gules’s Boudoir. Lord and Lady Gules.
Lord G. I tell you what it is, my dear—we’ve only known that fellow Plumper a month, and he has already completely captivated Elaine with his Kindergarten, and his sunflowers, and his hatred of the landed interest and Irish coercion, and love of the clôture and humanity, and Buddha and Brahma, and Zoroaster and Mahomet, and all the rest of them. I must really take steps to find out whether Gresham was well informed about his reputed wealth. I shall ride down and take a look at 20 Heavitree Gardens to-morrow. I haven’t met a single man at the Club who has ever heard of him.
Lady G. It’s no use: if he should turn out a pauper, or even a swindler, I am afraid Elaine will marry him. I saw it in her eye last night; and so, I should think, did he. He certainly can’t complain of not receiving encouragement. I only wonder that he has not yet proposed. I believe the man to be capable of any act of audacity, in spite of his languid manner, and his long hair, and short-sightedness, and his stammer.
Enter Elaine.
Lord G. Are you coming to ride with me, or going out to drive with your mother, Elaine?
El. Neither, dear papa. I am too busy finishing a paper I am writing on the “Chiton; or, Clothing for the masses on the principles of the ideal of the ancient Greeks,” for the next meeting of the Women’s Dress Reform Association.