C.-C. [As the Butler is going.] One moment. My dear Elizabeth, I’ve come to throw myself on your mercy. My servants are busy with their own affairs. There’s not a thing for me to eat in my cottage.
Elizabeth. Oh, but we shall be delighted if you’ll lunch with us.
C.-C. It either means that or my immediate death from starvation. You don’t mind, Arnold?
Arnold. My dear father!
Elizabeth. [To the Butler.] Mr. Cheney will lunch here.
Butler. Very good, ma’am.
C.-C. [To Lady Kitty.] And what do you think of Arnold?
Lady Kitty. I adore him.
C.-C. He’s grown, hasn’t he? But then you’d expect him to do that in thirty years.
Arnold. For God’s sake let’s go in to lunch, Elizabeth!