ALMERIC. Rumbo! I don't mind, pater!
[Exit into the hotel.]
HORACE. What's the row?
HAWCASTLE. My dear young man, I congratulate you that you and your
sister need no longer submit to an odious dictation.
[Enter PIKE briskly from the hotel.]
PIKE [as he enters, genially]. Looks to me like it was going to clear up
cold.
[LADY CREECH haughtily stalks off into the garden.]
HAWCASTLE [pleasantly]. Good-afternoon, Mr. Pike.
PIKE [going to the motor]. Howdy!
[Begins touching different parts of the engine.]
[MADAME DE CHAMPIGNY and HORACE haughtily follow LADY CREECH.]
HAWCASTLE [suavely, to PIKE]. Mr. Pike, it is an immense pity that there
should have been any misunderstanding in the matter of your ward's
betrothal.
PIKE [looking up for a moment, mildly]. Oh, I wouldn't call it a
misunderstanding.
HAWCASTLE. It would ill become a father to press upon the subject of his
son's merits--
PIKE [plaintively]. I don't want to talk about _him_ with you--I don't
want to hurt your feelings.
HAWCASTLE. Perhaps I might better put it on the ground of your ward's
wishes--of certain advantages of position which it is her ambition to
attain.
PIKE [troubled]. I can't talk about it with anybody but her.
[Enter MARIANO from the hotel with a letter on a tray.
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