LADY CHESHIRE. [Going over and standing behind her son's chair]
Anything wrong, darling?
BILL. Nothing, thanks. [Suddenly] I say, I wish you hadn't asked
that girl here.
LADY CHESHIRE. Mabel! Why? She's wanted for rehearsals. I thought
you got on so well with her last Christmas.
BILL. [With a sort of sullen exasperation.] A year ago.
LADY CHESHIRE. The girls like her, so does your father; personally I
must say I think she's rather nice and Irish.
BILL. She's all right, I daresay.
He looks round as if to show his mother that he wishes to be
left alone. But LADY CHESHIRE, having seen that he is about to
look at her, is not looking at him.
LADY CHESHIRE. I'm afraid your father's been talking to you, Bill.
BILL. He has.
LADY CHESHIRE. Debts? Do try and make allowances. [With a faint
smile] Of course he is a little----
BILL. He is.
LADY CHESHIRE. I wish I could----
BILL. Oh, Lord! Don't you get mixed up in it!
LADY CHESHIRE. It seems almost a pity that you told him.
BILL. He wrote and asked me point blank what I owed.
LADY CHESHIRE. Oh! [Forcing herself to speak in a casual voice]
I happen to have a little money, Bill--I think it would be simpler
if----
BILL. Now look here, mother, you've tried that before. I can't help
spending money, I never shall be able, unless I go to the Colonies,
or something of the kind.
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