Cecily. Well, ever since dear Uncle Jack first confessed to us that
he had a younger brother who was very wicked and bad, you of course
have formed the chief topic of conversation between myself and Miss
Prism. And of course a man who is much talked about is always very
attractive. One feels there must be something in him, after all. I
daresay it was foolish of me, but I fell in love with you, Ernest.

Algernon. Darling! And when was the engagement actually settled?

Cecily. On the 14th of February last. Worn out by your entire
ignorance of my existence, I determined to end the matter one way or
the other, and after a long struggle with myself I accepted you
under this dear old tree here. The next day I bought this little
ring in your name, and this is the little bangle with the true
lover's knot I promised you always to wear.

Algernon. Did I give you this? It's very pretty, isn't it?

Cecily. Yes, you've wonderfully good taste, Ernest. It's the
excuse I've always given for your leading such a bad life. And this
is the box in which I keep all your dear letters. [Kneels at table,
opens box, and produces letters tied up with blue ribbon.]

Algernon. My letters! But, my own sweet Cecily, I have never
written you any letters.

Cecily. You need hardly remind me of that, Ernest. I remember only
too well that I was forced to write your letters for you. I wrote
always three times a week, and sometimes oftener.