Maud. Oh, I guess I am, though.  Why, here’s Mr. CULCHARD coming along.  Well, Mr. CULCHARD?

Culch. I—­ah—­appear to have interrupted a highly interesting conversation?

Maud. Well, we were having a little discussion, and I guess you’re in time to give the casting vote—­HYPATIA, you want to keep just where you are, do you hear?  I mean you should listen to Mr. CULCHARD’s opinion.

Culch. (flattered).  Which I shall be delighted to give, if you will put me in possession of the—­er—­facts.

Maud. Well, these are the—­er—­facts.  There were two gentlemen under vow—­maybe you’ll understand the working of that arrangement better than I do?—­under vow for the same young lady. [HYPATIA PRENDERGAST, sit still, or I declare I’ll pinch you!] One of them comes up and tells her that he’s arrived at the conclusion the other admirer is the better man, and, being a friend of his, he ought to retire in his favour, and he does it, too, right away.  Now I say that isn’t natural—­he’d some other motive.  Miss PRENDERGAST here will have it he was one of those noble unselfish natures that deserve they should be stuffed for a museum.  What’s your opinion now?

Culch. (perspiring freely).  Why—­er—­really, on so delicate a matter, I—­I—­ [He maunders.

Hyp. MAUD, why will you be so headstrong! (In a rapid whisper.) Can’t you see ... can’t you guess?...

Maud. I guess I want to make sure Mr. CULCHARD isn’t that kind of magnanimous man himself.  I shouldn’t want him to renounce me!

Hyp. MAUD!  You might at least wait until Mr. CULCHARD has—­

Maud. Oh, but he did—­weeks ago, at Bingen.  And at Lugano, too, the other day, he spoke out tolerable plain.  I guess he didn’t wish any secret made about it—­did you, Mr. CULCHARD?

Culch. I—­ah—­this conversation is rather ...  If you’ll excuse me—­ [Escapes with as much dignity as he can command.

Maud. Well, my dear,—­that’s the sort of self-denying hairpin he is!  What do you think of him now?

Hyp. I do not think so highly of him, I confess.  His renunciation was evidently less prompted by consideration for his friend than by a recollection—­tardy enough, I am afraid—­of the duty which bound him to you, dearest.  But if you had seen and heard him, as I did, you would not have doubted the reality of the sacrifice, whatever the true reason may have been.  For myself, I am conscious of neither anger nor sorrow—­my heart, as I told you, was never really affected.  But what must it be to you, darling!

Maud. Well, I believe I’m more amused than anything.

Hyp. Amused!  But surely you don’t mean to have anything more to do with him?