Lord Windermere. I must go to her. You’ll excuse me?
Mrs. Erlynne. [Rising hurriedly.] Oh, no! It’s nothing serious. She’s only very tired, that is all. Besides, there are people still in the supper-room. She wants you to make her apologies to them. She said she didn’t wish to be disturbed. [Drops letter.] She asked me to tell you!
Lord Windermere. [Picks up letter.] You have dropped something.
Mrs. Erlynne. Oh yes, thank you, that is mine. [Puts out her hand to take it.]
Lord Windermere. [Still looking at letter.] But it’s my wife’s handwriting, isn’t it?
Mrs. Erlynne. [Takes the letter quickly.] Yes, it’s—an address. Will you ask them to call my carriage, please?
Lord Windermere. Certainly.
[Goes L. and Exit.]
Mrs. Erlynne. Thanks! What can I do? What can I do? I feel a passion awakening within me that I never felt before. What can it mean? The daughter must not be like the mother—that would be terrible. How can I save her? How can I save my child? A moment may ruin a life. Who knows that better than I? Windermere must be got out of the house; that is absolutely necessary. [Goes L.] But how shall I do it? It must be done somehow. Ah!
[Enter Lord Augustus R.U.E. carrying bouquet.]