Bea. Your voice is so charming, it is a pity to strain it.
Kate. (goes down R.C.) I wasn’t aware I had an audience. I was simply endeavouring to convince Lord Normantower that a crotchet is not a quaver. I was not attempting to sing.
Bea. My love, you are too modest. I never heard you sing better. (Kate grimaces aside)
Nor. (aside) I think, I’d better turn the conversation. (Goes to R. of sofa) How is Philip, this evening?
Kate. Yes, how is Mr. Selwyn?
Bea. I’m glad to say, much stronger.
Nor. That’s good news. I was afraid, as Sir Peter did not dine with us, your husband was worse.
Bea. Sir Peter has been with him all the afternoon, and has announced his intention of remaining till he has solved the mystery of Philip’s illness. It is really very kind of Sir Peter.
Kate. Sir Peter is kindness itself. (returns to piano, and sits)
Bea. You can imagine what a satisfaction it is to me, to know that my husband is in such excellent care.