Mrs. Arbuthnot. It was not to have been sent. It is a letter he wrote to you this morning, before he saw me. But he is sorry now he wrote it, very sorry. You are not to open it. Give it to me.
Lord Illingworth. It belongs to me. [Opens it, sits down and reads it slowly. Mrs. Arbuthnot watches him all the time.] You have read this letter, I suppose, Rachel?
Mrs. Arbuthnot. No.
Lord Illingworth. You know what is in it?
Mrs. Arbuthnot. Yes!
Lord Illingworth. I don’t admit for a moment that the boy is right in what he says. I don’t admit that it is any duty of mine to marry you. I deny it entirely. But to get my son back I am ready—yes, I am ready to marry you, Rachel—and to treat you always with the deference and respect due to my wife. I will marry you as soon as you choose. I give you my word of honour.
Mrs. Arbuthnot. You made that promise to me once before and broke it.
Lord Illingworth. I will keep it now. And that will show you that I love my son, at least as much as you love him. For when I marry you, Rachel, there are some ambitions I shall have to surrender. High ambitions, too, if any ambition is high.
Mrs. Arbuthnot. I decline to marry you, Lord Illingworth.
Lord Illingworth. Are you serious?