You Can Never Tell

Yes: in the spring⁠— Dolly —a young man’s fancy⁠— Philip —lightly turns to⁠—thank you to Mrs. Clandon, who has passed the biscuits⁠—thoughts of love. It also occurs in the autumn. The young man in this case is⁠— Dolly Valentine. Philip And his fancy has turned to Gloria to the extent of⁠— Dolly —kissing her⁠— Philip —on the terrace⁠— Dolly Correcting him.⁠—on the lips, before everybody. Mrs. Clandon Incredulously. Phil! Dolly! Are you joking? They shake their heads. Did she allow it? Philip We waited to see him struck to earth by the lightning of her scorn;⁠— Dolly —but he wasn’t. Philip She appeared to like it. Dolly As far as we could judge. Stopping Phil, who is about to pour out another cup. No: you’ve sworn off two cups. Mrs. Clandon Much troubled. Children: you must not be here when Mr. Valentine comes. I must speak very seriously to him about this. Philip To ask him his intentions? What a violation of Twentieth Century principles! Dolly Quite right, mamma: bring him to book. Make the most of the nineteenth century while it lasts. Philip Sh! Here he is. Valentine comes in. Valentine Very sorry to be late for tea, Mrs. Clandon. She takes up the teapot. No, thank you: I never take any. No doubt Miss Dolly and Phil have explained what happened to me. Philip Momentously rising. Yes, Valentine: we have explained. Dolly Significantly, also rising. We have explained very thoroughly. Philip It was our duty. Very seriously. Come, Dolly. He offers Dolly his arm, which she takes. They look sadly at him, and go out gravely, arm in arm. Valentine stares after them, puzzled; then looks at Mrs. Clandon for an explanation. Mrs. Clandon Rising and leaving the tea table. Will you sit down, Mr. Valentine. I want to speak to you a little, if you will allow me. Valentine sits down slowly on the ottoman, his conscience presaging a bad quarter of an hour. Mrs. Clandon takes Phil’s chair, and seats herself deliberately at a convenient distance from him. I must begin by throwing myself somewhat at your consideration. I am going to speak of a subject of which I know very little⁠—perhaps nothing. I mean love. Valentine Love! Mrs. Clandon Yes, love. Oh, you need not look so alarmed as that, Mr. Valentine: I am not in love with you. Valentine Overwhelmed. Oh, really, Mrs.⁠—Recovering himself. I should be only too proud if you were. Mrs. Clandon Thank you, Mr. Valentine. But I am too old to begin. Valentine Begin! Have you never⁠—? Mrs. Clandon Never. My case is a very common one, Mr. Valentine. I married before I was old enough to know what I was doing. As you have seen for yourself, the result was a bitter disappointment for both my husband and myself. So you see, though I am a married woman, I have never been in love; I have never had a love affair; and to be quite frank with you, Mr. Valentine, what I have seen of the love affairs of other people has not led me to regret that deficiency in my experience. Valentine, looking very glum, glances sceptically at her, and says nothing. Her color rises a little; and she adds, with restrained anger, You do not believe me? Valentine Confused at having his thought read. Oh, why not? Why not? Mrs. Clandon Let me tell you, Mr. Valentine, that a life devoted to the Cause of Humanity has enthusiasms and passions to offer which far transcend the selfish personal infatuations and sentimentalities of romance. Those are not your enthusiasms and passions, I take it? Valentine, quite aware that she despises him for it, answers in the negative with a melancholy shake of the head. I thought not. Well, I am equally at a disadvantage in discussing those so-called affairs of the heart in which you appear to be an expert. Valentine Restlessly. What are you driving at, Mrs. Clandon? Mrs. Clandon I think you know. Valentine Gloria? Mrs. Clandon Yes. Gloria. Valentine Surrendering. Well, yes: I’m in love with Gloria. Interposing as she is about to speak. I know what you’re going to say: I’ve no money. Mrs. Clandon I care very little about money, Mr. Valentine. Valentine Then you’re very different to all the other mothers who have interviewed me. Mrs. Clandon Ah, now we are coming to it, Mr. Valentine. You are an old hand at this. He opens his mouth to protest: she cuts him short with some indignation. Oh, do you think, little as I understand these matters, that I have not common sense enough to know that a man who could make as much way in one interview with such a woman as my daughter, can hardly be a novice! Valentine I assure you⁠— Mrs. Clandon Stopping him. I am not blaming you, Mr. Valentine. It is Gloria’s business to take care of herself; and you have a right to amuse yourself as you please. But⁠— Valentine Protesting. Amuse myself! Oh, Mrs. Clandon! Mrs. Clandon Relentlessly. On your honor, Mr. Valentine, are you in earnest? Valentine Desperately. On my honor I am in earnest. She looks searchingly at him. His sense of humor gets the better of him; and he adds quaintly, Only, I always have been in earnest; and yet⁠—here I am, you see! Mrs. Clandon This is just what I suspected. Severely. Mr. Valentine: you are one of those men who play with women’s affections. Valentine Well, why not, if the Cause of Humanity is the only thing worth being serious about? However, I understand. Rising and taking his hat with formal politeness. You wish me to discontinue my visits. Mrs. Clandon No: I am sensible enough to be well aware that Gloria’s best chance of escape from you now is to become better acquainted with you. Valentine Unaffectedly alarmed. Oh, don’t say that, Mrs. Clandon. You don’t think that, do you? Mrs. Clandon I have great faith, Mr. Valentine, in the sound training Gloria’s