MRS. CHEVELEY. Oh, don't be so solemn about it, or I shall be
obliged to leave a card on you. In England I suppose that would
hardly be considered EN REGLE. Abroad, we are more civilised. Will
you see me down, Sir Robert? Now that we have both the same
interests at heart we shall be great friends, I hope!

[Sails out on SIR ROBERT CHILTERN'S arm. LADY CHILTERN goes to the
top of the staircase and looks down at them as they descend. Her
expression is troubled. After a little time she is joined by some of
the guests, and passes with them into another reception-room.]

MABEL CHILTERN. What a horrid woman!

LORD GORING. You should go to bed, Miss Mabel.

MABEL CHILTERN. Lord Goring!

LORD GORING. My father told me to go to bed an hour ago. I don't
see why I shouldn't give you the same advice. I always pass on good
advice. It is the only thing to do with it. It is never of any use
to oneself.

MABEL CHILTERN. Lord Goring, you are always ordering me out of the
room. I think it most courageous of you. Especially as I am not
going to bed for hours. [Goes over to the sofa.] You can come and
sit down if you like, and talk about anything in the world, except
the Royal Academy, Mrs. Cheveley, or novels in Scotch dialect. They
are not improving subjects. [Catches sight of something that is
lying on the sofa half hidden by the cushion.] What is this? Some