Faith. The doctor said three years.
Mrs. Crombie. Only to frighten him, that's what doctors are for. I believe they cured hundreds of cases in the army like that.
Faith. Did they, mother.
Mrs. Crombie. What's the matter with the man?
Faith. I don't know.
Mrs. Crombie. It strikes me, dear, that you had better find out a bit more before you get engaged another time.
Faith (tearfully). But I don't want to be engaged another time. I want to be engaged this time. Oh, mother darling, won't you wait a little while? Just see the uncle. If you got him alone for a while you could find out anything—you're always so clever at that sort of thing. Oh, mother, do.
Mrs. Crombie. I'll interview the man on one condition. That is that whatever decision I may make you promise to abide by it afterwards.
Faith (rises). Yes, mother, I promise. (Kisses her, remains below fireplace.)
Mrs. Crombie. Now I suppose we had better join the rest, they're being feverishly bright on the tennis lawn.