of these regulations, for instance. (Produces book, Land Act Amendment.)
Dulcie. Oh, don't show me that horrid book! It's about free selection and all that, and dad says it's done no end of harm. Oh, I wish I could advise you properly!
Egremont. If you only would undertake the task! (Takes her hand and looks at her tenderly.)
Dulcie (hastily). Oh, really, I have no time now; I shall be late for lunch as it is. Good-morning.
Mr. Polyblock's Drawing-Room
Mr. Polyblock (looks at wrong card). Mr. Stanley—Hubert Stanley—oh, one of the swells that came up with the governor! Show him in.
Mr. P. (surprised and irritated). Hulloa! who the devil are you? Oh, I see, swell out of luck! Want employment or else, perhaps, I wouldn't mind advancing twenty pound till your remittance came out. Is that the game?
Egremont (haughtily). No, sir; I am perfectly able to pay my way, and trust to be so for the future. We have not met before, but no doubt you will know who I am when I tell you that my name is Cecil Egremont.
MR. P. Eggermont? Eggermont? We've not met afore, as you say; but, by George, I'll meet you some day! You're the chap as took up my main camp. Then what the devil do you want at my private house, eh? Mind, I won't sell you a pound of beef or mutton either, if you want it ever so bad. I ain't to be had that way.
Egremont (proudly). You're over-hasty in your conclusions, sir. I have no pressing need for butcher's meat. But you are right in surmising that I do want something from you—something of value also.
Mr. P. (much surprised}. Good Gad! (Aside—What can he want? Don't want money nor beef; perhaps it's wheat or 'taters. Never knew a free selector yet that didn't want one of 'em.) What is it, man, speak out?
Egremont. The fact is, Mr. Polyblock, your daughter; that is, I have long cherished an admiration
