Act IV

SCENE

Sitting-room at Mrs. Arbuthnot's. Large open French window at
back, looking on to garden. Doors R.C. and L.C.

[GERALD ARBUTHNOT writing at table.]

[Enter ALICE R.C. followed by LADY HUNSTANTON and MRS. ALLONBY.]

ALICE. Lady Hunstanton and Mrs. Allonby.

[Exit L.C.]

LADY HUNSTANTON. Good morning, Gerald.

GERALD. [Rising.] Good morning, Lady Hunstanton. Good morning,
Mrs. Allonby.

LADY HUNSTANTON. [Sitting down.] We came to inquire for your dear
mother, Gerald. I hope she is better?

GERALD. My mother has not come down yet, Lady Hunstanton.

LADY HUNSTANTON. Ah, I am afraid the heat was too much for her
last night. I think there must have been thunder in the air. Or
perhaps it was the music. Music makes one feel so romantic - at
least it always gets on one's nerves.

MRS. ALLONBY. It's the same thing, nowadays.

LADY HUNSTANTON. I am so glad I don't know what you mean, dear. I
am afraid you mean something wrong. Ah, I see you're examining
Mrs. Arbuthnot's pretty room. Isn't it nice and old-fashioned?

MRS. ALLONBY. [Surveying the room through her lorgnette.] It
looks quite the happy English home.

LADY HUNSTANTON. That's just the word, dear; that just describes
it. One feels your mother's good influence in everything she has
about her, Gerald.

MRS. ALLONBY. Lord Illingworth says that all influence is bad, but
that a good influence is the worst in the world.

LADY HUNSTANTON. When Lord Illingworth knows Mrs. Arbuthnot better
he will change his mind. I must certainly bring him here.

MRS. ALLONBY. I should like to see Lord Illingworth in a happy
English home.

LADY HUNSTANTON. It would do him a great deal of good, dear. Most
women in London, nowadays, seem to furnish their rooms with nothing
but orchids, foreigners, and French novels. But here we have the
room of a sweet saint. Fresh natural flowers, books that don't
shock one, pictures that one can look at without blushing.

MRS. ALLONBY. But I like blushing.

LADY HUNSTANTON. Well, there IS a good deal to be said for
blushing, if one can do it at the proper moment. Poor dear
Hunstanton used to tell me I didn't blush nearly often enough. But
then he was so very particular. He wouldn't let me know any of his
men friends, except those who were over seventy, like poor Lord
Ashton: who afterwards, by the way, was brought into the Divorce
Court. A most unfortunate case.

MRS. ALLONBY. I delight in men over seventy. They always offer
one the devotion of a lifetime. I think seventy an ideal age for a
man.

LADY HUNSTANTON. She is quite incorrigible, Gerald, isn't she?
By-the-by, Gerald, I hope your dear mother will