EDSTASTON. Come! I am sure he really loved you; and you truly
loved him.

CATHERINE [controlling herself with a supreme effort]. No,
Catherine. What would Voltaire say?

EDSTASTON. Oh, never mind that vile scoffer. Set an example to
Europe, Madam, by doing what I am going to do. Marry again. Marry
some good man who will be a strength and support to your old age.

CATHERINE. My old--[she again becomes speechless].

EDSTASTON. Yes: we must all grow old, even the handsomest of us.

CATHERINE [sinking into her chair with a gasp]. Thank you.

EDSTASTON. You will thank me more when you see your little ones
round your knee, and your man there by the fireside in the winter
evenings--by the way, I forgot that you have no fireside here in
spite of the coldness of the climate; so shall I say by the
stove?

CATHERINE. Certainly, if you wish. The stove by all means.

EDSTASTON [impulsively]. Ah, Madam, abolish the stove: believe
me, there is nothing like the good old open grate. Home! duty!
happiness! they all mean the same thing; and they all flourish
best on the drawing-room hearthrug. (Turning to Claire.] And now,
my love, we must not detain the Queen: she is anxious to inspect
the model of her museum, to which I am sure we wish every