have all been a little childish, I am afraid. Our party has been a
failure: let us break it up and have done with it. (She puts her chair
aside and turns to the steps, adding, with slighting composure, as she
passes Crampton.) Good-bye, father.

(She descends the steps with cold, disgusted indifference. They all
look after her, and so do not notice the return of the waiter from the
hotel, laden with Crampton's coat, Valentine's stick, a couple of shawls
and parasols, a white canvas umbrella, and some camp stools.)

CRAMPTON (to himself, staring after Gloria with a ghastly
expression). Father! Father!! (He strikes his fist violently on the
table.) Now---

WAITER (offering the coat). This is yours, sir, I think, sir.
(Crampton glares at him; then snatches it rudely and comes down the
terrace towards the garden seat, struggling with the coat in his angry
efforts to put it on. McComas rises and goes to his assistance; then
takes his hat and umbrella from the little iron table, and turns towards
the steps. Meanwhile the waiter, after thanking Crampton with unruffled
sweetness for taking the coat, offers some of his burden to Phil.) The
ladies' sunshades, sir. Nasty glare off the sea to-day, sir: very
trying to the complexion, sir. I shall carry down the camp stools
myself, sir.

PHILIP. You are old, Father William; but you are the most
considerate of men. No: keep the sunshades and give me the camp stools
(taking them).

WAITER (with flattering gratitude). Thank you, sir.