You Can Never Tell

dear young lady, you pick me up very sharply. But let me just put this to you. When a man makes an unsuitable marriage (nobody’s fault, you know, but purely accidental incompatibility of tastes); when he is deprived by that misfortune of the domestic sympathy which, I take it, is what a man marries for; when in short, his wife is rather worse than no wife at all (through no fault of his own, of course), is it to be wondered at if he makes matters worse at first by blaming her, and even, in his desperation, by occasionally drinking himself into a violent condition or seeking sympathy elsewhere? Mrs. Clandon I did not blame him: I simply rescued myself and the children from him. McComas Yes: but you made hard terms, Mrs. Clandon. You had him at your mercy: you brought him to his knees when you threatened to make the matter public by applying to the Courts for a judicial separation. Suppose he had had that power over you, and used it to take your children away from you and bring them up in ignorance of your very name, how would you feel? what would you do? Well, won’t you make some allowance for his feelings?⁠—in common humanity. Mrs. Clandon I never discovered his feelings. I discovered his temper, and his⁠—She shivers. the rest of his common humanity. McComas Wistfully. Women can be very hard, Mrs. Clandon. Valentine That’s true. Gloria Angrily. Be silent. He subsides. McComas Rallying all his forces. Let me make one last appeal. Mrs. Clandon: believe me, there are men who have a good deal of feeling, and kind feeling, too, which they are not able to express. What you miss in Crampton is that mere veneer of civilization, the art of showing worthless attentions and paying insincere compliments in a kindly, charming way. If you lived in London, where the whole system is one of false good-fellowship, and you may know a man for twenty years without finding out that he hates you like poison, you would soon have your eyes opened. There we do unkind things in a kind way: we say bitter things in a sweet voice: we always give our friends chloroform when we tear them to pieces. But think of the other side of it! Think of the people who do kind things in an unkind way⁠—people whose touch hurts, whose voices jar, whose tempers play them false, who wound and worry the people they love in the very act of trying to conciliate them, and yet who need affection as much as the rest of us. Crampton has an abominable temper, I admit. He has no manners, no tact, no grace. He’ll never be able to gain anyone’s affection unless they will take his desire for it on trust. Is he to have none⁠—not even pity⁠—from his own flesh and blood? Dolly Quite melted. Oh, how beautiful, Finch! How nice of you! Philip With conviction. Finch: this is eloquence⁠—positive eloquence. Dolly Oh, mamma, let us give him another chance. Let us have him to dinner. Mrs. Clandon Unmoved. No, Dolly: I hardly got any lunch. My dear Finch: there is not the least use in talking to me about Fergus. You have never been married to him: I have. McComas To Gloria. Miss Clandon: I have hitherto refrained from appealing to you, because, if what Mr. Crampton told me to be true, you have been more merciless even than your mother. Gloria Defiantly. You appeal from her strength to my weakness! McComas Not your weakness, Miss Clandon. I appeal from her intellect to your heart. Gloria I have learnt to mistrust my heart. With an angry glance at Valentine. I would tear my heart and throw it away if I could. My answer to you is my mother’s answer. She goes to Mrs. Clandon, and stands with her arm about her; but Mrs. Clandon, unable to endure this sort of demonstrativeness, disengages herself as soon as she can without hurting Gloria’s feelings. McComas Defeated. Well, I am very sorry⁠—very sorry. I have done my best. He rises and prepares to go, deeply dissatisfied. Mrs. Clandon But what did you expect, Finch? What do you want us to do? McComas The first step for both you and Crampton is to obtain counsel’s opinion as to whether he is bound by the deed of separation or not. Now why not obtain this opinion at once, and have a friendly meeting Her face hardens.⁠—or shall we say a neutral meeting?⁠—to settle the difficulty⁠—here⁠—in this hotel⁠—tonight? What do you say? Mrs. Clandon But where is the counsel’s opinion to come from? McComas It has dropped down on us out of the clouds. On my way back here from Crampton’s I met a most eminent Q.C., a man whom I briefed in the case that made his name for him. He has come down here from Saturday to Monday for the sea air, and to visit a relative of his who lives here. He has been good enough to say that if I can arrange a meeting of the parties he will come and help us with his opinion. Now do let us seize this chance of a quiet friendly family adjustment. Let me bring my friend here and try to persuade Crampton to come, too. Come: consent. Mrs. Clandon Rather ominously, after a moment’s consideration. Finch: I don’t want counsel’s opinion, because I intend to be guided by my own opinion. I don’t want to meet Fergus again, because I don’t like him, and don’t believe the meeting will do any good. However rising, you have persuaded the children that he is not quite hopeless. Do as you please. McComas Taking her hand and shaking it. Thank you, Mrs. Clandon. Will nine o’clock suit you? Mrs. Clandon Perfectly. Phil: will you ring, please. Phil rings the bell. But if I am to be accused of conspiring with Mr. Valentine,