And when I'm sixty--
BELINDA (pleadingly to DEVENISH). Can't you stop him?
DEVENISH. Look here, Baxter, another word from you and you'll never _get_ to sixty.
BAXTER. And then there's Miss--er--Delia. In the event of our marrying, Mrs. Tremayne, she, I take it, would be my step-daughter.
BELINDA. I don't think she would trouble us much, Mr. Baxter. I have an idea that she will be getting married before long. (She glances at DEVENISH, who returns her look gratefully.)
BAXTER. None the less, the fact would be disturbing. I have never yet considered myself seriously as a step-father. I don't think I am going too far if I say that to some extent I have been deceived in this matter.
BELINDA (reproachfully). And so have I. I thought you loved me.
DEVENISH (sympathetically). Yes, yes.
BELINDA (turning to him suddenly). _And_ Mr. Devenish too.
BAXTER. Er--
DEVENISH. Er--
(They stand before her guiltily and have nothing to say.)
BELINDA (with a shrug). Well, I shall have to marry somebody else, that's all.
BAXTER. Who?
BELINDA. I suppose Mr. Robinson. After all, if I am Delia's mother, and Mr. Baxter says that Mr. Robinson's her father, it's about time we _were_ married.
DEVENISH (eagerly). Mrs. Tremayne, what fools we are! He _is_ your husband all the time!
BELINDA. Yes.
BAXTER. You've had a husband all the time?
BELINDA (apologetically). I lost him; it wasn't my fault.
BAXTER. Really, this is very confusing. I don't know where I am. I gather--I am to gather, it seems, that you are no longer eligible as a possible wife?
BELINDA. I am afraid not, Mr. Baxter.
BAXTER. But this is very confusing--this is very disturbing to a man of my age. For weeks past I have been regarding myself as a--a possible benedict. I have--ah--taken steps. Only this morning, in writing to my housekeeper, I warned her that she might hear at any moment a most startling announcement.
DEVENISH (cheerfully). Oh, that's all right. That might only mean that you were getting a new bowler-hat.
BAXTER (suddenly). Ah, and what about you, sir? How is it that you take this so lightly? (Triumphantly.) I have it. It all becomes clear to me. You have transferred your affections to her daughter!
DEVENISH. Oh, I say, Baxter, this is very crude.
BELINDA. And why should he not, Mr. Baxter? (Softly.) He has made me very happy.
BAXTER. He has made you happy, Mrs. Tremayne!
BELINDA. Very happy.
BAXTER (thoughtfully). Ah! (He takes a turn round the room in, silence, and then comes back to her.) Mrs. Tremayne, I have taken a great resolve. (Solemnly.) I also will make you happy. (Thumping his heart.) I also will woo Miss Delia. (Suddenly seizing DEVENISH'S arm) Come, we will seek Miss Delia together. It may be that she will send us upon another quest in which I shall again be victorious. (Tempestuously) Come, I say! (He marches the resisting DEVENISH to the swing doors.)
DEVENISH (to BELINDA). Please!
BELINDA (gently). Mr. Baxter... Harold. (BAXTER stops and turns round.) You are too impetuous. I think that as Delia's mother--
BAXTER. Your pardon, Mrs. Tremayne. In the intoxication of the moment I am forgetting. (Formally.) I have the honour to ask your permission to pay my addresses--
BELINDA. No, no, I didn't mean that. But, as Delia's mother, I ought to warn you that she is hardly fitted to take the place of your housekeeper. She is not very domesticated.
BAXTER (indignantly). Not domesticated? Why, did I not hear her tell her father at dinner that she had arranged all the flowers?
BELINDA. There are other things than flowers.
DEVENISH. Bed-socks, for instance, Baxter. It's a very tricky thing airing bed-socks. I am sure your house-keeper--
BAXTER. Mrs. Tremayne, she will learn. The daughter of such a mother... I need say no more.
BELINDA. Oh, thank you. But there is something else, Mr. Baxter. You are not being quite fair to yourself. In starting out upon this simultaneous wooing, you forget that Mr. Devenish has already had his turn this morning alone. You should have yours ... alone ... too.
DEVENISH. Oh, I say!
BAXTER. Yes, yes, you are right. I must introduce myself first as a suitor. I see that. (to DEVENISH) _You_ stay here; _I_ will go alone into the garden, and--
BELINDA. It is perhaps a little cold out of doors for people of ... of _our_ age, Mr. Baxter. Now, in the library--
BAXTER (astonished). Library?
BELINDA. Yes.
BAXTER. You have a library?
BELINDA (to DEVENISH). He doesn't believe I have a library.
DEVENISH. You ought to see the library, Baxter.
BAXTER. But you are continually springing surprises on me this evening, Mrs. Tremayne. First a daughter, then a husband, and then-- a library! I have been here three weeks, and I never knew you had a library. Dear me, I wonder how it is that I never saw it?
BELINDA (modestly). I thought you came to see _me_.
BAXTER. Yes, yes, to see you, certainly. But if I had known you had a library. ...
BELINDA. Oh, I am so glad I mentioned it. Wasn't it lucky, Mr. Devenish?
BAXTER. My work has been greatly handicapped of late by lack of certain books to which I wanted to refer. It would be a great help--
BELINDA. My dear Mr. Baxter, my whole library is at your disposal. (To DEVENISH, as she leads the way to the door, in a confidential whisper.) I'm just going to show him the "Encyclopedia Britannica." (She smiles at him, and he opens the door for them both. Then he goes towards the garden door and looks outside.)
DELIA (from the garden). Hullo, we're just coming in. (He goes back and waits for them.)
TREMAYNE. Where's Mrs. Tremayne?
DEVENISH. She's gone to the library with Baxter.
TREMAYNE (carelessly). Oh, the library. Where's that?
DEVENISH (promptly going towards the door and opening it). The end door on the right. Right at the end. You can't mistake it. On the right.
TREMAYNE. Ah, yes. (He looks round at DELIA.) Yes. (He looks at DEVENISH.) Yes. [He goes out.]
(DEVENISH hastily shuts the door and comes back to DELIA.)
DEVENISH. I say, your mother is a ripper.
DELIA (enthusiastically). Isn't she! (Remembering.) At least, you mean my aunt?