You Can Never Tell

He turns to go. Gloria Annoyed. Mother will be back in a moment, Phil. Severely. Please wait here for her. She turns away to the window, where she stands looking out with her back to them. Philip Significantly. Oh, indeed. Hmhm! Dolly Ahah! Philip You seem in excellent spirits, Valentine. Valentine I am. Comes between them. Now look here. You both know what’s going on, don’t you? Gloria turns quickly, as if anticipating some fresh outrage. Dolly Perfectly. Valentine Well, it’s all over. I’ve been refused⁠—scorned. I’m only here on sufferance. You understand: it’s all over. Your sister is in no sense entertaining my addresses, or condescending to interest herself in me in any way. Gloria, satisfied, turns back contemptuously to the window. Is that clear? Dolly Serve you right. You were in too great a hurry. Philip Patting him on the shoulder. Never mind: you’d never have been able to call your soul your own if she’d married you. You can now begin a new chapter in your life. Dolly Chapter seventeen or thereabouts, I should imagine. Valentine Much put out by this pleasantry. No: don’t say things like that. That’s just the sort of thoughtless remark that makes a lot of mischief. Dolly Oh, indeed. Hmhm! Philip Ahah! He goes to the hearth and plants himself there in his best head-of-the-family attitude. McComas, looking very serious, comes in quickly with Mrs. Clandon, whose first anxiety is about Gloria. She looks round to see where she is, and is going to join her at the window when Gloria comes down to meet her with a marked air of trust and affection. Finally, Mrs. Clandon takes her former seat, and Gloria posts herself behind it. McComas, on his way to the ottoman, is hailed by Dolly. Dolly What cheer, Finch? McComas Sternly. Very serious news from your father, Miss Clandon. Very serious news indeed. He crosses to the ottoman, and sits down. Dolly, looking deeply impressed, follows him and sits beside him on his right. Valentine Perhaps I had better go. McComas By no means, Mr. Valentine. You are deeply concerned in this. Valentine takes a chair from the table and sits astride of it, leaning over the back, near the ottoman. Mrs. Clandon: your husband demands the custody of his two younger children, who are not of age. Mrs. Clandon, in quick alarm, looks instinctively to see if Dolly is safe. Dolly Touched. Oh, how nice of him! He likes us, mamma. McComas I am sorry to have to disabuse you of any such idea, Miss Dorothea. Dolly Cooing ecstatically. Dorothee-ee-ee-a! Nestling against his shoulder, quite overcome. Oh, Finch! McComas Nervously, moving away. No, no, no, no! Mrs. Clandon Remonstrating. Dearest Dolly! To McComas. The deed of separation gives me the custody of the children. McComas It also contains a covenant that you are not to approach or molest him in any way. Mrs. Clandon Well, have I done so? McComas Whether the behavior of your younger children amounts to legal molestation is a question on which it may be necessary to take counsel’s opinion. At all events, Mr. Crampton not only claims to have been molested; but he believes that he was brought here by a plot in which Mr. Valentine acted as your agent. Valentine What’s that? Eh? McComas He alleges that you drugged him, Mr. Valentine. Valentine So I did. They are astonished. McComas But what did you do that for? Dolly Five shillings extra. McComas To Dolly, short-temperedly. I must really ask you, Miss Clandon, not to interrupt this very serious conversation with irrelevant interjections. Vehemently. I insist on having earnest matters earnestly and reverently discussed. This outburst produces an apologetic silence, and puts McComas himself out of countenance. He coughs, and starts afresh, addressing himself to Gloria. Miss Clandon: it is my duty to tell you that your father has also persuaded himself that Mr. Valentine wishes to marry you⁠— Valentine Interposing adroitly. I do. McComas Offended. In that case, sir, you must not be surprised to find yourself regarded by the young lady’s father as a fortune hunter. Valentine So I am. Do you expect my wife to live on what I earn? ten-pence a week! McComas Revolted. I have nothing more to say, sir. I shall return and tell Mr. Crampton that this family is no place for a father. He makes for the door. Mrs. Clandon With quiet authority. Finch! He halts. If Mr. Valentine cannot be serious, you can. Sit down. McComas, after a brief struggle between his dignity and his friendship, succumbs, seating himself this time midway between Dolly and Mrs. Clandon. You know that all this is a made up case⁠—that Fergus does not believe in it any more than you do. Now give me your real advice⁠—your sincere, friendly advice: you know I have always trusted your judgment. I promise you the children will be quiet. McComas Resigning himself. Well, well! What I want to say is this. In the old arrangement with your husband, Mrs. Clandon, you had him at a terrible disadvantage. Mrs. Clandon How so, pray? McComas Well, you were an advanced woman, accustomed to defy public opinion, and with no regard for what the world might say of you. Mrs. Clandon Proud of it. Yes: that is true. Gloria, behind the chair, stoops and kisses her mother’s hair, a demonstration which disconcerts her extremely. McComas On the other hand, Mrs. Clandon, your husband had a great horror of anything getting into the papers. There was his business to be considered, as well as the prejudices of an old-fashioned family. Mrs. Clandon Not to mention his own prejudices. McComas Now no doubt he behaved badly, Mrs. Clandon⁠— Mrs. Clandon Scornfully. No doubt. McComas But was it altogether his fault? Mrs. Clandon Was it mine? McComas Hastily. No. Of course not. Gloria Observing him attentively. You do not mean that, Mr. McComas. McComas My