of. (_Kissing her again_.) Darling, it really _is_ you?

DELIA. Oh, it is jolly seeing you again. I believe you were asleep.

BELINDA (_with dignity_). Certainly not, child. I was reading
_The Nineteenth Century_--(_with an air_)--and after. (_Earnestly_)
Darling, wasn't it next Thursday you were coming back?

DELIA. No, this Thursday, silly.

BELINDA (_penitently_). Oh, my darling, and I was going over to
Paris to bring you home.

DELIA. I half expected you.

BELINDA. So confusing their both being called Thursday. And you were
leaving school for the very last time. If you don't forgive me, Delia, I
shall cry.

DELIA (_kissing her and stroking her hand fondly_). Silly mother!

(BELINDA _sits down in the deck-chair and_ DELIA _sits on the
table_.)

BELINDA. Isn't it a lovely day for April, darling! I've wanted to say
that to somebody all day, and you're the first person who's given me the
chance. Oh, I said it to Betty, but she only said, "Yes, ma'am."

DELIA. Poor mother!