Sir William: _(Facing Rose)_ My mind is...

Sir William: (Facing Rose) My mind is not commonly a wavering one, Miss Trelawny, but it has taken me some time一months一to decide upon calling on ye.

Rose: Won’t you sit down?

Sir William: (After a pause of hesitation, sitting upon the dress basket) Ugh!

Rose: (With quiet dignity) Have we no chairs? Do we lack chairs here, Sir William?

(He gives her a quick, keen look, then rises and walks to the fire)

Sir William: (Suddenly, bringing his stick down upon the table with violence) My grandson! My grandson! Where is he?

Rose: Arthur一!

Sir William: I had but one.

Rose: Isn’t he一in Cavendish Square一?

Sir William: Isn’t he in Cavendish Square! No, he is not in Cavendish Square, as you know well.

Rose: Oh, I don’t know一

Sir William: Tsch!

Rose: When did he leave you?

Sir William: Tsch!

Rose: When?

Sir William: He made his escape during the night, 22nd of August last一(point his finger at her) as you know well.

Rose: Sir William, I assure you一

Sir William: Tsch! (Taking off his gloves) How often does he write to ye?

Rose: He does not write to me. He did write day after day, two or three times a day, for about a week. That was in June, when I came back here. (With a drooping head) He never writes now.

Sir William: Visits ye一?

Rose: No.

Sir William: Comes troubadoring一?

Rose: No, no, no. I have not seen him since that night. I refused to see him一 (With a catch in her breath) Why, he may be一!

Sir William: (Fumbling in his pocket) Ah, but he’s not. He’s alive (producing a small packet of letters). Arthur’s alive, (advancing to her) and full of his tricks still. His great-aunt Trafalgar receives a letter from him once a fortnight, posted in London一

Rose: (Holding out her hand for the letters) Oh!

Sir William: (Putting them behind his back) Hey!

Rose: (Faintly) I thought you wished me to read them. (He yields them to her grudgingly, she taking his hand and bending over it.) Ah, thank you.

Sir William: (Withdrawing his hand with a look of disrelish) What are you doing, madam? What are ye doing?

(He sits, producing his snuff-box; she sits, upon the basket, facing him, and opens the packet of letters)

Rose: (Reading a letter) “To reassure you as to my well-being, I cause this to be posted in London by a friend一”

Sir William: (Pointing a finger at her again, accusingly) A friend!

Rose: (Looking up, with simple pride) He would never call me that. (Reading) “I am in good bodily health, and as contented as a man can be who has lost the woman he loves, and will love till his dying day一” Ah一!

Sir William: Read no more! Return them to me! Give them to me, ma’am! (Rising, she restores the letters, meekly. He peers into her face) What’s come to ye? You are not so much of a vixen as you were.

Rose: (Shaking her head) No.

Sir William: (Suspiciously) Less of the devil一?

Rose: Sir William, I am sorry for having been a vixen, and for all my unruly conduct, in Cavendish Square. I humbly beg your, and Miss Gower’s, forgiveness.

Sir William: (Taking snuff, uncomfortably) Pi一i-i一sh! Extraordinary change.

Rose: Aren’t you changed, Sir William, now that you have lost him?

Sir William: I!

Rose: Don’t you love him now, the more? (His head droops a little, and his hands wander to the brooch which secures his plaid) Let me take your shawl from you. You would catch cold when you go out一

Pinero, Arthur Wing, Trelawny of the Wells, R.H. Russell, 1899, pp. 148-153.