You Can Never Tell

epub:type="z3998:persona">Gloria also stops, looking at Crampton with a certain repulsion. Mrs. Clandon Glad to see you again, Mr. Valentine. He smiles. She passes on and confronts Crampton, intending to address him with perfect composure; but his aspect shakes her. She stops suddenly and says anxiously, with a touch of remorse. Fergus: you are greatly changed. Crampton Grimly. I daresay. A man does change in eighteen years. Mrs. Clandon Troubled. I⁠—I did not mean that. I hope your health is good. Crampton Thank you. No: it’s not my health. It’s my happiness: that’s the change you meant, I think. Breaking out suddenly. Look at her, McComas! Look at her; and look at me! He utters a half laugh, half sob. Philip Sh! Pointing to the hotel entrance, where the waiter has just appeared. Order before William! Dolly Touching Crampton’s arm warningly with her finger. Ahem! The waiter goes to the service table and beckons to the kitchen entrance, whence issue a young waiter with soup plates, and a cook, in white apron and cap, with the soup tureen. The young waiter remains and serves: the cook goes out, and reappears from time to time bringing in the courses. He carves, but does not serve. The waiter comes to the end of the luncheon table next the steps. Mrs. Clandon As they all assemble about the table. I think you have all met one another already today. Oh, no, excuse me. Introducing. Mr. Valentine: Mr. McComas. She goes to the end of the table nearest the hotel. Fergus: will you take the head of the table, please. Crampton Ha! Bitterly. The head of the table! Waiter Holding the chair for him with inoffensive encouragement. This end, sir. Crampton submits, and takes his seat. Thank you, sir. Mrs. Clandon Mr. Valentine: will you take that side indicating the side nearest the parapet with Gloria? Valentine and Gloria take their places, Gloria next Crampton and Valentine next Mrs. Clandon. Finch: I must put you on this side, between Dolly and Phil. You must protect yourself as best you can. The three take the remaining side of the table, Dolly next her mother, Phil next his father, and McComas between them. Soup is served. Waiter To Crampton. Thick or clear, sir? Crampton To Mrs. Clandon. Does nobody ask a blessing in this household? Philip Interposing smartly. Let us first settle what we are about to receive. William! Waiter Yes, sir. He glides swiftly round the table to Phil’s left elbow. On his way he whispers to the young waiter. Thick. Philip Two small Lagers for the children as usual, William; and one large for this gentleman indicating Valentine. Large Apollinaris for Mr. McComas. Waiter Yes, sir. Dolly Have a six of Irish in it, Finch? McComas Scandalized. No⁠—no, thank you. Philip Number 413 for my mother and Miss Gloria as before; and⁠—turning enquiringly to Crampton Eh? Crampton Scowling and about to reply offensively. I⁠— Waiter Striking in mellifluously. All right, sir. We know what Mr. Crampton likes here, sir. He goes into the hotel. Philip Looking gravely at his father. You frequent bars. Bad habit! The cook, accompanied by a waiter with a supply of hot plates, brings in the fish from the kitchen to the service table, and begins slicing it. Crampton You have learnt your lesson from your mother, I see. Mrs. Clandon Phil: will you please remember that your jokes are apt to irritate people who are not accustomed to us, and that your father is our guest today. Crampton Bitterly. Yes, a guest at the head of my own table. The soup plates are removed. Dolly Sympathetically. Yes: it’s embarrassing, isn’t it? It’s just as bad for us, you know. Philip Sh! Dolly: we are both wanting in tact. To Crampton. We mean well, Mr. Crampton; but we are not yet strong in the filial line. The waiter returns from the hotel with the drinks. William: come and restore good feeling. Waiter Cheerfully. Yes, sir. Certainly, sir. Small Lager for you, sir. To Crampton. Seltzer and Irish, sir. To McComas. Apollinaris, sir. To Dolly. Small Lager, miss. To Mrs. Clandon, pouring out wine. 413, madam. To Valentine. Large Lager for you, sir. To Gloria. 413, miss. Dolly Drinking. To the family! Philip Drinking. Hearth and Home! Fish is served. McComas With an obviously forced attempt at cheerful domesticity. We are getting on very nicely after all. Dolly Critically. After all! After all what, Finch? Crampton Sarcastically. He means that you are getting on very nicely in spite of the presence of your father. Do I take your point rightly, Mr. McComas? McComas Disconcerted. No, no. I only said “after all” to round off the sentence. I⁠—er⁠—er⁠—er⁠— Waiter Tactfully. Turbot, sir? McComas Intensely grateful for the interruption. Thank you, waiter: thank you. Waiter Sotto voce. Don’t mention it, sir. He returns to the service table. Crampton To Phil. Have you thought of choosing a profession yet? Philip I am keeping my mind open on that subject. William! Waiter Yes, sir. Philip How long do you think it would take me to learn to be a really smart waiter? Waiter Can’t be learnt, sir. It’s in the character, sir. Confidentially to Valentine, who is looking about for something. Bread for the lady, sir? yes, sir. He serves bread to Gloria, and resumes at his former pitch. Very few are born to it, sir. Philip You don’t happen to have such a thing as a son, yourself, have you? Waiter Yes, sir: oh, yes, sir. To Gloria, again dropping his voice. A little more fish, miss? you won’t care for the joint in the middle of the day. Gloria No, thank you.