Sir G. The award’s against you.
Lady C. Give him the letter.
Philip. But——
Sir G. Sir, I demand it! (Philip gives it him) I want it for a very special purpose. (folding the letter up into a spill, but never letting his eyes fall upon it) The woman who wrote this will never trouble you. If she has done wrong, she has borne her punishment. Therefore, in pity, let us hide her shame. (lights spill at lamp, and holds it in his hand—all three stand watching it, until the ashes drop upon the floor, then turn aside, Lady Carlyon, R., Philip, L., Sir George to back of scene)
Re-enter Rose, R., in a dressing-gown.
Rose. You want me, aunt?
Sir G. I want you, Rose. (leads her to Philip) Philip has asked for my consent to your engagement. I give it cordially. He is the son of a good father, and I think he will make you a good husband.
Rose. Uncle George! (embraces him—turns to Philip) You haven’t kept our secret!
Philip. No, I couldn’t wait.
Sir G. (crosses to Lady Carlyon) Won’t you congratulate them? (stands, R., thoughtfully)