Sir Rupert. Well, I was thinking that, as there's nothing doing out of doors, I might get a chance to knock off some of these confounded accounts, but—(resignedly)—if you think I ought to go and look after——
Lady Culv. No, no, the men are playing billiards, and the women are in the Morning Room—they're all right. I only wanted to ask you about to-night. You know the Lullingtons and the dear Bishop and Mrs. Rodney, and one or two other people, are coming to dinner? Well, who ought to take in Rohesia?
Sir Rup. (in dismay). Rohesia! No idea she was coming down this week!
Lady Culv. Yes, by the 4.45. With dear Maisie. Surely you knew that?
Sir Rup. In a sort of way; didn't realise it was so near, that's all.
Lady Culv. It's some time since we had her last. And she wanted to come. I didn't think you would like me to write and put her off.
Sir Rup. Put her off? Of course I shouldn't, Albinia. If my only sister isn't welcome at Wyvern at any time—I say, at any time—where the deuce is she welcome?
Lady Culv. I don't know, dear Rupert. But—but about the table?
Sir Rup. So long as you don't put her near me—that's all I care about.
Lady Culv. I mean—ought I to send her in with Lord Lullington, or the Bishop?