Yes, Margery. [_Bending her head slightly._] And Gerald?
Is the best husband in the world to me. Of course, he's very busy----
With his book; and sometimes I can't help annoying him. That's nothing. We haven't had a real cross word yet.
Oh, morning, noon, and night. He's always got a pen in his hand. I often say I wonder he doesn't wear the ceiling out with looking at it.
No, but it's thinking--and he's always thinking.
We went out a good deal at first, but we got tired of it. I like home best; at any rate, Gerald does. I rather liked going out. Oh, I'm quite a success in society.
Of course, aunt, I'm not clever; but I suppose I'm witty without knowing it!
At any rate, I make the people laugh. Isn't that being witty? Then _I_ laugh as well, although I don't know what I'm laughing at, I'm sure! [_Laughs._] Oh, everybody laughs at me--but Gerald. And he's thinking of his book!
Oh, yes! Miss Vivash--Miss Bethune--Dr. Mary--Mrs. Sylvester--and uncle. They're often coming. As for Mrs. Sylvester, she almost lives here!--oh, and Captain Sylvester, he's taken to calling lately!
In future, dear, you'll have another visitor. I see I have neglected you too long. And you must come and see me. We'll go out together.
Oh, that _will_ be nice! Then you have _quite_ forgiven me?
_Re-enter GERALD, R., followed by COLONEL._
Aunt, this is kind of you! but you were always kind.
Not always. I ought to have paid this visit earlier. I made a mistake, Gerald, and I have come to acknowledge it.
COLONEL [_laying his hand on LADY WARGRAVE'S shoulder in an access of enthusiasm_].
No other word for it! I always said you'd come round!
Better late than never, aunt. And thank you for the card for your At Home.
Oh, uncle, you're a shocking old story, aren't you?
Aunt vows you'd nothing to do with it at all!
Caroline's a heart of gold; but your aunt must be managing! So I let her manage, and I manage _her._
But I do it quietly. I influence her, without her knowing it. Sheer force of character. Chut! not a word! [_Backing away from her, signalling silence; backs into LADY WARGRAVE._] Ten thousand pardons!
[_MARGERY goes up, stifling her laughter; he shakes his handkerchief at her._
_Enter MRS. SYLVESTER; she hesitates, on seeing LADY WARGRAVE. Exit WELLS, L._