TREMAYNE (_startled_). Odd?

BELINDA. Yes; we have some one called Robinson (_nodding towards the
house_) staying in the house. I wonder if she is any relation?

TREMAYNE (_hastily_). Oh no, no. No, she couldn't be. I have no
relations called Robinson--not to speak of.

BELINDA. You must tell me all about your relations when you come and
call, Mr. Robinson.

TREMAYNE. I think we can find something better worth talking about than
that.

BELINDA. Do you think so? (_He says "Yes" with his eyes, bows, and
moves up_ C. _The piano is now forte. BELINDA accompanies him up a
little, then stops. He turns in entrance up C., and they exchange
glances_. TREMAYNE _exits to_ R., _behind yew hedge. BELINDA
stays looking after him, then moves down to back of table and picking up
the book of poems, gives that happy sigh of hers, only even more
so_.) O-oh!

(_Enter_ BETTY _from porch_.)

BETTY. If you please, ma'am, Miss Delia says, are you coming in to tea?

BELINDA (_looking straight in front of her, and taking no notice
of_ BETTY, _in a happy, dreamy voice_). Betty, ... about
callers .... If Mr. Robinson calls--he's the handsome gentleman who