Elizabeth. I don’t. But I heard she was in London. She’s staying at Claridge’s. It seemed so heartless not to take the smallest notice of her.
C.-C. When is she coming?
Elizabeth. We’re expecting her in time for luncheon.
C.-C. As soon as that? I understand the embarrassment.
Elizabeth. You see, we never expected you to be here. You said you’d be in Paris for another month.
C.-C. My dear child, this is your house. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t ask whom you please to stay with you.
Elizabeth. After all, whatever her faults, she’s Arnold’s mother. It seemed so unnatural that they should never see one another. My heart ached for that poor lonely woman.
C.-C. I never heard that she was lonely, and she certainly isn’t poor.
Elizabeth. And there’s something else. I couldn’t ask her by herself. It would have been so—so insulting. I asked Lord Porteous, too.
C.-C. I see.