CROCKSTEAD. [_Sitting beside her._] Lady Aline, they are dancing a
cotillon in there, so we have half an hour before us. We shall not be
disturbed, for the Duchess, your aunt, has considerately stationed her
aged companion in the corridor, with instructions to ward off intruders.

ALINE. [_Very surprised._] Mr. Crockstead!

CROCKSTEAD. [_Looking hard at her._] Didn't you know? [ALINE _turns aside,
embarrassed._] That's right--of course you did. Don't you know why I have
brought you here? That's right; of course you do. The Duchess, your aunt,
and the Marchioness, your mother--observe how fondly my tongue trips out
the titles--smiled sweetly on us as we left the ball-room. There will be
a notice in the _Morning Post_ to-morrow: "A Marriage Has Been Arranged
Between--"

ALINE. [_Bewildered and offended._] Mr. Crockstead! This--this is--

CROCKSTEAD. [_Always in the same quiet tone._] Because I have not yet
proposed, you mean? Of course I intend to, Lady Aline. Only as I know that
you will accept me--

ALINE. [_In icy tones, as she rises._] Let us go back to the ball-room.

CROCKSTEAD. [_Quite undisturbed._] Oh, please! That won't help us, you
know. Do sit down. I assure you I have never proposed before, so that
naturally I am a trifle nervous. Of course I know that we are only supers
really, without much of a speaking part; but the spirit moves me to gag,
in the absence of the stage-manager, who is, let us say, the Duchess--

ALINE. I have heard of the New Humour, Mr. Crockstead, though I confess I