Mrs. Dermott. Sometimes I'm afraid, but still they're rather darlings when you know how to manage them. Vangy, dear, did I tell you how many stitches I set on this sleeve?
Evangeline. We have many confidences, mother, but that is not one of them.
Mrs. Dermott. Dear me, how tiresome. I'm certain I told someone.
(She gets up and rings bell above fireplace, and sits down again.)
Mrs. Crombie. I was saying, Miss Dermott, that I must make an effort to get your book from the library.
Evangeline. Oh, there are one or two copies in the house—I'll lend you one.
Mrs. Crombie. It's very kind of you.
Mrs. Dermott. I'm sure you'll like it, I did, though Vangy tells me I didn't understand half of it. Naturally being my daughter's work it thrilled me, though where she got all her ideas from I can't think—I've always been most careful with the children's upbringing——
(Enter Griggs, R. and moves to above Chesterfield. He coughs.)
What is it, Griggs?