Mrs. Warren’s Profession

you a rather particular question. Praed Certainly. He takes Mrs. Warren’s chair and sits close to Crofts. Crofts That’s right: they might hear us from the window. Look here: did Kitty every tell you who that girl’s father is? Praed Never. Crofts Have you any suspicion of who it might be? Praed None. Crofts Not believing him. I know, of course, that you perhaps might feel bound not to tell if she had said anything to you. But it’s very awkward to be uncertain about it now that we shall be meeting the girl every day. We don’t exactly know how we ought to feel towards her. Praed What difference can that make? We take her on her own merits. What does it matter who her father was? Crofts Suspiciously. Then you know who he was? Praed With a touch of temper. I said no just now. Did you not hear me? Crofts Look here, Praed. I ask you as a particular favor. If you do know⁠—movement of protest from Praed⁠—I only say, if you know, you might at least set my mind at rest about her. The fact is, I feel attracted towards her. Oh, don’t be alarmed: it’s quite an innocent feeling. That’s what puzzles me about it. Why, for all I know, I might be her father. Praed You! Impossible! Oh, no, nonsense. Crofts Catching him up cunningly. You know for certain that I’m not? Praed I know nothing about it, I tell you, any more than you. But really, Crofts⁠—oh no, it’s out of the question. There’s not the least resemblance. Crofts As to that, there’s no resemblance between her and her mother that I can see. I suppose she’s not your daughter, is she? Praed He meets the question with an indignant stare; then recovers himself with an effort and answers gently and gravely. Now listen to me, my dear Crofts. He sits down again. I have nothing to do with that side of Mrs. Warren’s life, and never had. She has never spoken to me about it; and of course I have never spoken to her about it. Your delicacy will tell you that a handsome woman needs some friends who are not⁠—well, not on that footing with her. The effect of her own beauty would become a torment to her if she could not escape from it occasionally. You are probably on much more confidential terms with Kitty than I am. Surely you can ask her the question yourself. Crofts Rising impatiently. I have asked her, often enough. But she’s so determined to keep the child all to herself that she would deny that it ever had a father if she could. Rising. I’m thoroughly uncomfortable about it, Praed. Praed Rising also. Well, as you are, at all events, old enough to be her father, I don’t mind agreeing that we both regard Miss Vivie in a parental way, as a young girl who we are bound to protect and help. What do you say? Crofts Aggressively. I’m no older than you, if you come to that. Praed Yes, you are, my dear fellow: you were born old. I was born a boy: I’ve never been able to feel the assurance of a grown-up man in my life. Mrs. Warren Calling from within the cottage. Prad‑dee! George! Tea‑ea‑ea‑ea! Crofts Hastily. She’s calling us. He hurries in. Praed shakes his head bodingly, and is following slowly when he is hailed by a young gentleman who has just appeared on the common, and is making for the gate. He is a pleasant, pretty, smartly dressed, cleverly good-for-nothing young fellow, not long turned twenty, with a charming voice and agreeably disrespectful manner. He carries a very light sporting magazine rifle. The Young Gentleman Hallo! Praed! Praed Why, Frank Gardner! Frank comes in and shakes hands cordially. What on earth are you doing here? Frank Staying with my father. Praed The Roman father? Frank He’s rector here. I’m living with my people this autumn for the sake of economy. Things came to a crisis in July: the Roman father had to pay my debts. He’s stony broke in consequence; and so am I. What are you up to in these parts? Do you know the people here? Praed Yes: I’m spending the day with a Miss Warren. Frank Enthusiastically. What! Do you know Vivie? Isn’t she a jolly girl? I’m teaching her to shoot⁠—you see! Showing the rifle. I’m so glad she knows you: you’re just the sort of fellow she ought to know. He smiles, and raises the charming voice almost to a singing tone as he exclaims: It’s ever so jolly to find you here, Praed. Ain’t it, now? Praed I’m an old friend of her mother. Mrs. Warren brought me over to make her daughter’s acquaintance. Frank The mother! Is she here? Praed Yes⁠—inside at tea. Mrs. Warren Calling from within. Prad‑dee‑ee‑ee‑eee! The teacake’ll be cold. Praed Calling. Yes, Mrs. Warren. In a moment. I’ve just met a friend here. Mrs. Warren A what? Praed Louder. A friend. Mrs. Warren Bring him up. Praed All right. To Frank. Will you accept the invitation? Frank Incredulous, but immensely amused. Is that Vivie’s mother? Praed Yes. Frank By Jove! What a lark! Do you think she’ll like me? Praed I’ve no doubt you’ll make yourself popular, as usual. Come in and try. Moving towards the house. Frank Stop a bit. Seriously. I want to take you into my confidence. Praed Pray don’t. It’s only some fresh folly, like the barmaid at Redhill. Frank It’s ever so much more serious than that. You say you’ve only just met Vivie for the first time? Praed Yes. Frank Rhapsodically. Then you can have no idea what a girl she is. Such character! Such sense! And her cleverness! Oh, my eye, Praed, but I can tell you she is clever! And the most loving little heart that⁠— Crofts Putting his head out of the window. I say, Praed: what are you about? Do come along. He disappears. Frank Hallo! Sort of chap