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that. What a good friend you are to him - to us!

LORD GORING. There is only one person now that could be said to be
in any danger.

LADY CHILTERN. Who is that?

LORD GORING. [Sitting down beside her.] Yourself.

LADY CHILTERN. I? In danger? What do you mean?

LORD GORING. Danger is too great a word. It is a word I should not
have used. But I admit I have something to tell you that may
distress you, that terribly distresses me. Yesterday evening you
wrote me a very beautiful, womanly letter, asking me for my help.
You wrote to me as one of your oldest friends, one of your husband's
oldest friends. Mrs. Cheveley stole that letter from my rooms.

LADY CHILTERN. Well, what use is it to her? Why should she not have
it?

LORD GORING. [Rising.] Lady Chiltern, I will be quite frank with
you. Mrs. Cheveley puts a certain construction on that letter and
proposes to send it to your husband.

LADY CHILTERN. But what construction could she put on it? . . . Oh!
not that! not that! If I in - in trouble, and wanting your help,
trusting you, propose to come to you . . . that you may advise me . .
. assist me . . . Oh! are there women so horrible as that . . .? And
she proposes to send it to my husband? Tell me what happened. Tell
me all that happened.

LORD GORING. Mrs. Cheveley was concealed in a room adjoining my
library, without my knowledge. I thought that the person who was
waiting in that room to see me was yourself. Robert came in
unexpectedly. A chair or something fell in the room. He forced his
way in, and he discovered her. We had a terrible scene. I still
thought it was you. He left me in anger. At the end of everything
Mrs. Cheveley got possession of your letter - she stole it, when or
how, I don't know.

LADY CHILTERN. At what hour did this happen?

LORD GORING. At half-past ten. And now I propose that we tell
Robert the whole thing at once.

LADY CHILTERN. [Looking at him with amazement that is almost
terror.] You want me to tell Robert that the woman you expected was
not Mrs. Cheveley, but myself? That it was I whom you thought was
concealed in a room in your house, at half-past ten o'clock at night?
You want me to tell him that?

LORD GORING. I think it is better that he should know the exact
truth.

LADY CHILTERN. [Rising.] Oh, I couldn't, I couldn't!

LORD GORING. May I do it?

LADY CHILTERN. No.

LORD GORING. [Gravely.] You are wrong, Lady Chiltern.

LADY CHILTERN. No. The letter must be intercepted. That is all.
But how can I do it? Letters arrive for him every moment of the day.
His secretaries open them and hand them to him. I dare not ask the
servants to bring me his letters. It would be impossible. Oh! why
don't you tell me what to do?

LORD GORING. Pray be calm, Lady Chiltern, and answer the questions I
am going to put to you. You said his secretaries open his letters.

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