Faith. Yes, but it's true; his Uncle is going to leave him a huge fortune in a year's time.
Mrs. Crombie. Which Uncle? (Takes out cigarette from case.)
Faith. He's only got one—Daniel Davis. He landed in England yesterday, and is coming down here to-day. Eighteen months ago the doctor said he only had three years to live——
Mrs. Crombie. I've been caught like that before. (Crosses to mantelpiece for matches.)
Faith. Why, how do you mean?
Mrs. Crombie. Experience has taught me one thing, and that is that in this world people never die when they're expected to. (Sits on Chesterfield.) The old man will probably live to a ripe old age, then where would you be?
Faith. Well, anyhow Bobbie makes quite a lot out of his songs. (Sits in armchair.)
Mrs. Crombie. Don't be childish, Faith. You know perfectly well I should never allow you to marry a man without a settled income—prospects never kept anyone. Besides, if any of them get the uncle's money it will be Oliver—he's the eldest. (Lights cigarette.)
Faith (in chair L.C.). That's where you are wrong, mother. Just before he sailed back to America, he took Bobbie aside and told him in confidence that he was the one he meant to leave everything to. Of course the others mustn't know because it would be favouritism—don't you see?
Mrs. Crombie. How much is he going to leave?