marry young.
COMTESSE. If there is not, there is probably a lady waiting for him, somewhere in a boiler.
SYBIL. I dare say.
[MAGGIE descends.]
MAGGIE. Mr. Shand will be down directly.
COMTESSE. Thank you. Your brother has been giving us such an interesting account of his career. I forget, Sybil, whether he said that he was married.
MAGGIE. No, he's not married; but he will be soon.
COMTESSE. Ah! [She is merely making conversation.] A friend of yours?
MAGGIE [now a scorner of herself]. I don't think much of her.
COMTESSE. In that case, tell me all about her.
MAGGIE. There's not much to tell. She's common, and stupid. One of those who go in for self-culture; and then when the test comes they break down. [With sinister enjoyment] She'll be the ruin of him.
COMTESSE. But is not that sad! Figure to yourself how many men with greatness before them have been shipwrecked by marrying in the rank from which they sprang.
MAGGIE. I've told her that.
COMTESSE. But she will not give him up?
MAGGIE. No.
SYBIL. Why should she if he cares for her? What is her name?
MAGGIE. It's--Maggie.
COMTESSE [still uninterested]. Well, I am afraid that Maggie is to do for John. [JOHN comes down.] Ah, our hero!
JOHN. Sorry I have kept you waiting. The Comtesse?
COMTESSE. And my niece Lady Sybil Tenterden. [SYBIL'S head inclines on its stem.] She is not really all my niece; I mean I am only half of her aunt. What a triumph, Mr. Shand!
JOHN. Oh, pretty fair, pretty fair. Your brother has just finished addressing the crowd, Lady Sybil.
SYBIL. Then we must not detain Mr. Shand, Auntie.
COMTESSE [who unless her heart is touched thinks insincerity charming]. Only one word. I heard you speak last night. Sublime! Just the sort of impassioned eloquence that your House of Commons loves.
JOHN. It's very good of you to say so.
COMTESSE. But we must run. Bon soir.
[SYBIL bows as to some one far away.]
JOHN. Good-night, Lady Sybil. I hear you think I'm vulgar. [Eyebrows are raised.]
COMTESSE. My dear Mr. Shand, what absurd---
JOHN. I was told she said that after hearing me speak.
COMTESSE. Quite a mistake, I---
JOHN [doggedly]. Is it not true?
SYBIL ['waking up']. You seem to know, Mr. Shand; and as you press me so unnecessarily--well, yes, that is how you struck me.
COMTESSE. My child!
SYBIL [who is a little agitated]. He would have it.
JOHN [perplexed]. What's the matter? I just wanted to know, because if it's true I must alter it.
COMTESSE. There, Sybil, see how he values your good opinion.
SYBIL [her svelte figure giving like a fishing-rod]. It is very nice of you to put it in that way, Mr. Shand. Forgive me.
JOHN. But I don't quite understand yet. Of course, it can't matter to me, Lady Sybil, what you think of me; what I mean is, that I mustn't be vulgar if it would be injurious to my career.
[The fishing-rod regains its rigidity.]
SYBIL. I see. No, of course, I could not affect your career, Mr Shand.
JOHN [who quite understands that he is being challenged]. That's so, Lady Sybil, meaning no offence.
SYBIL [who has a naughty little impediment in her voice when she is most alluring]. Of course not. And we are friends again?
JOHN. Certainly.
SYBIL. Then I hope you will come to see me in London as I present no terrors.
JOHN [he is a man, is JOHN]. I'll be very pleased.
SYBIL. Any afternoon about five.
JOHN. Much obliged. And you can teach me the things I don't know yet, if you'll be so kind.
SYBIL [the impediment becoming more assertive]. If you wish it, I shall do my best.
JOHN. Thank you, Lady Sybil. And who knows there may be one or two things I can teach you.
SYBIL [it has now become an angel's hiccough]. Yes, we can help one another. Good-bye till then.
JOHN. Good-bye. Maggie, the ladies are going.
[During this skirmish MAGGIE has stood apart. At the mention of her name they glance at one another. JOHN escorts SYBIL, but the COMTESSE turns back.]
COMTESSE. Are you, then, THE Maggie? [MAGGIE nods rather defiantly and the COMTESSE is distressed.] But if I had known I would not have said those things.