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] Ugh! How dreary a bachelor's drawing-
room always looks. I shall have to alter all this. [PHIPPS brings
the lamp from the writing-table.] No, I don't care for that lamp.
It is far too glaring. Light some candles.

PHIPPS. [Replaces lamp.] Certainly, madam.

MRS. CHEVELEY. I hope the candles have very becoming shades.

PHIPPS. We have had no complaints about them, madam, as yet.

[Passes into the drawing-room and begins to light the candles.]

MRS. CHEVELEY. [To herself.] I wonder what woman he is waiting for
to-night. It will be delightful to catch him. Men always look so
silly when they are caught. And they are always being caught.
[Looks about room and approaches the writing-table.] What a very
interesting room! What a very interesting picture! Wonder what his
correspondence is like. [Takes up letters.] Oh, what a very
uninteresting correspondence! Bills and cards, debts and dowagers!
Who on earth writes to him on pink paper? How silly to write on pink
paper! It looks like the beginning of a middle-class romance.
Romance should never begin with sentiment. It should begin with
science and end with a settlement. [Puts letter down, then takes it
up again.] I know that handwriting. That is Gertrude Chiltern's. I
remember it perfectly. The ten commandments in every stroke of the
pen, and the moral law all over the page. Wonder what Gertrude is
writing to him about? Something horrid about me, I suppose. How I
detest that woman! [Reads it.] 'I trust you. I want you. I am
coming to you. Gertrude.' 'I trust you. I want you. I am coming
to you.'

[A look of triumph comes over her face. She is just about to steal
the letter, when PHIPPS comes in.]

PHIPPS. The candles in the drawing-room are lit, madam, as you
directed.

MRS. CHEVELEY. Thank you. [Rises hastily and slips the letter under
a large silver-cased blotting-book that is lying on the table.]

PHIPPS. I trust the shades will be to your liking, madam. They are
the most becoming we have. They are the same as his lordship uses
himself when he is dressing for dinner.

MRS. CHEVELEY. [With a smile.] Then I am sure they will be
perfectly right.

PHIPPS. [Gravely.] Thank you, madam.

[MRS. CHEVELEY goes into the drawing-room. PHIPPS closes the door
and retires. The door is then slowly opened, and MRS. CHEVELEY comes
out and creeps stealthily towards the writing-table. Suddenly voices
are heard from the smoking-room. MRS. CHEVELEY grows pale, and
stops. The voices grow louder, and she goes back into the drawing-
room, biting her lip.]

[Enter LORD GORING and LORD CAVERSHAM.]

LORD GORING. [Expostulating.] My dear father, if I am to get
married, surely you will allow me to choose the time, place, and
person? Particularly the person.

LORD CAVERSHAM. [Testily.] That is a matter for me, sir. You would

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