A serpent!

MRS. TEMPENNY.

The wretch.  Pretty of course?

MRS. SYLVESTER.

Serpents are always pretty.  One day, not long after we were married, I came across her photograph—­I was tidying up an old desk of Charles’, a photo, my dear, with an inscription that left no doubt what their relations had been.  I tore it up before his face; and for a time, excepting for the girlish illusions he had shattered, that was an end of the matter.

MRS. TEMPENNY.

But only for a time?

MRS. SYLVESTER (impressively).

Two years ago I went into his studio, and found her there.

MRS. TEMPENNY.

Horrible.

MRS. SYLVESTER.

You may well say so.  She was sitting on a table drinking brandy and soda as bold as brass.  Of course he swore that he needed her for a picture he was going to work on—­and, I don’t know, perhaps it was true.  Still considering what had been, her presence there was an outrage, and I shall never forget the quarrel there was between Charles and me.  That was the last I have seen of Rosaline—­she went flying.

MRS. TEMPENNY.

And was it the last that Mr. Sylvester has seen of her?

MRS. SYLVESTER.

So far as I know.  But there is always the lurking, horrid doubt.  You know now why I am not the light-hearted girl you remember, and why I distrust artists as a class.

Pause.

MRS. TEMPENNY (meditatively).

I don’t see why you should distrust Mr. Tempenny because Mr. Sylvester is not steady.

MRS. SYLVESTER.

Are you quite contented?

MRS. TEMPENNY.

No—­we are too hard up, but I believe Rembrandt loves me, and I love him.

MRS. SYLVESTER (heavily).

Poor child.

(Enter REMBRANDT TEMPENNY door in flat.  He wears long hair, and a brown velveteen jacket, and is smoking a short pipe.)

REMBRANDT TEMPENNY.

Eugenia?  And Mrs. Sylvester?  Why, bless my soul, how nice, what a surprise!  Don’t move—­don’t. (Stands peering at them with his hands over his eyes.) What a charming effect of light on your profile, Mrs. Sylvester—­how rich—­how transcendental!  Glorious! (Comes down.) Well, well, well, and so you ladies have come to pay me a visit.  Can I offer you anything?

MRS. TEMPENNY.

I called on Mrs. Tempenny to inquire whether you would dine with us to-night, and she said she could not answer without consulting you.

MRS. TEMPENNY.

You have no engagement, Rembrandt?

REMBRANDT TEMPENNY.

I am quite at liberty, Eugenia, quite.  I shall be most pleased and delighted. (Aside.) Another confoundedly dull evening, I know! (Aloud.) Sylvester is well?

MRS. SYLVESTER.

Sylvester is always well.