CUTHBERTSON. And now, Paramore, mind you don't stand any chaff from
Charteris about this. He's in the same predicament himself. He's
engaged to Grace.

JULIA (dropping Grace's hand, and speaking with breathless anguish,
but not violently). Again!

CHARTERIS (rising hastily). Don't be alarmed. It's all off.

SYLVIA (rising indignantly). What! You've chucked Grace too! What a
shame! (She goes to the other side of the room, fuming.)

CHARTERIS (following her and putting his hand soothingly on her
shoulder). She won't have me, old chap--that is (turning to the
others) unless Mrs. Tranfield has changed her mind again.

GRACE. No: we shall remain very good friends, I hope; but nothing
would induce me to marry you. (She goes to chair above the fireplace
and sits down with perfect composure.)

JULIA. Ah! (She sits down with a great sigh of relief.)

SYLVIA (consoling Charteris). Poor old Leonard!

CHARTERIS. Yes: this is the doom of the philanderer. I shall have to
go on philandering now all my life. No domesticity, no fireside, no
little ones, nothing at all in Cuthbertson's line! Nobody will marry
me--unless you, Sylvia--eh?