ACT III
It is about four o'clock in the afternoon of the same day. JANE is sitting on the sofa in the hall, glancing at a paper, but evidently rather bored with it, and hoping that somebody—BOBBY, did you say?—will appear presently. However, it is MR. KNOWLE who comes in.
MR. KNOWLE. Ah, Jane!
JANE (looking up). Hallo, Uncle Henry. Did you have a good day?
MR. KNOWLE. Well, Peters and I had a very enjoyable drive.
JANE. But you found nothing at the sale? What a pity!
MR. KNOWLE (taking a catalogue from his pocket). Nothing which I wanted myself, but there were several very interesting lots. Peters was strongly tempted by Lot 29—"Two hip-baths and a stuffed crocodile." Very useful things to have by you if you think of getting married, Jane, and setting up house for yourself. I don't know if you have any thoughts in that direction?
JANE (a little embarrassed). Well, I suppose I shall some day.
MR. KNOWLE. Ah! . . . Where's Bobby?
JANE (carelessly). Bobby? Oh, he's about somewhere.
MR. KNOWLE. I think Bobby would like to hear about Lot 29. (Returning to his catalogue) Or perhaps Lot 42. "Lot 42—Twelve aspidistras, towel-horse, and 'The Maiden's Prayer.'" All for seven and sixpence. I ought to have had Bobby with me. He could have made a firm offer of eight shillings. . . . By the way, I have a daughter, haven't I? How was Sandy this morning?
JANE. I didn't see her. Aunt Mary is rather anxious about her.
MR. KNOWLE. Has she left us for ever?
JANE. There's nothing to be frightened about really.
MR. KNOWLE. I'm not frightened.
JANE. She had breakfast before any of us were up, and went out with some sandwiches afterwards, and she hasn't come back yet.
MR. KNOWLE. A very healthy way of spending the day. (MRS. KNOWLE comes in) Well, Mary, I hear that we have no daughter now.
MRS. KNOWLE. Ah, there you are, Henry. Thank Heaven that you are back safely.
MR. KNOWLE. My dear, I always meant to come back safely. Didn't you expect me?
MRS. KNOWLE. I had given up hope. Jane here will tell you what a terrible morning I have had; prostrate on the sofa, mourning for my loved ones. My only child torn from me, my husband—dead.
MR. KNOWLE (surprised). Oh, I was dead?
MRS. KNOWLE. I pictured the car smashed to atoms, and you lying in the road, dead, with Peters by your side.
MR. KNOWLE. Ah! How was Peters?
MRS. KNOWLE (with a shrug). I didn't look. What is a chauffeur to one who has lost her husband and her only child in the same morning?
MR. KNOWLE. Still, I think you might have looked.
JANE. Sandy's all right, Aunt Mary. You know she often goes out alone all day like this.
MRS. KNOWLE. Ah, is she alone? Jane, did you count the gardeners as I asked you?
MR. KNOWLE. Count the gardeners?
MRS. KNOWLE. To make sure that none of them is missing too.
JANE. It's quite all right, Aunt Mary. Sandy will be back by tea-time.
MRS. KNOWLE (resigned). It all comes of christening her Melisande. You know, Henry, I quite thought you said Millicent.
MR. KNOWLE. Well, talking about tea, my dear—at which happy meal our long-lost daughter will be restored to us—we have a visitor coming, a nice young fellow who takes an interest in prints.
MRS. KNOWLE. I've heard nothing of this, Henry.
MR. KNOWLE. No, my dear, that's why I'm telling you now.
MRS. KNOWLE. A young man?
MR. KNOWLE. Yes.
MRS. KNOWLE. Nice-looking?
MR. KNOWLE. Yes.
MRS. KNOWLE. Rich?
MR. KNOWLE. I forgot to ask him, Mary. However, we can remedy that omission as soon as he arrives.
MRS. KNOWLE. It's a very unfortunate day for him to have chosen. Here's Sandy lost, and I'm not fit to be seen, and—Jane, your hair wants tidying——
MR. KNOWLE. He is not coming to see you or Sandy or Jane, my dear; he is coming to see me. Fortunately, I am looking very beautiful this afternoon.
MRS. KNOWLE. Jane, you had better be in the garden, dear, and see if you can stop Sandy before she comes in, and just give her a warning. I don't know what she'll look like after roaming the…
