In Sir Rupert Culverin's Study at Wyvern Court. It is a rainy Saturday morning in February. Sir Rupert is at his writing-table, as Lady Culverin enters with a deprecatory air. Lady Culverin. So here you are, Rupert Not very busy, are you? I won't keep you a moment. (She goes to a window.) Such a nuisance it's turning out wet, with all these people in the house, isn't it? Sir Rupert. Well, I was thinking that, as there's nothing doing out of doors, I might get a chance to knock off some of these confounded accounts, but-(resignedly)-if you think I ought to go and look after--