You Can Never Tell

Phil: they know all about us in England. To Valentine. Oh, you can’t think how maddening it is to be related to a celebrated person, and never be valued anywhere for our own sakes. Valentine But excuse me: the gentleman I was thinking of is not celebrated. Dolly Staring at him. Gentleman! Phil is also puzzled. Valentine Yes. I was going to ask whether you were by any chance a daughter of Mr. Densmore Clandon of Newbury Hall. Dolly Vacantly. No. Philip Well come, Dolly: how do you know you’re not? Dolly Cheered. Oh, I forgot. Of course. Perhaps I am. Valentine Don’t you know? Philip Not in the least. Dolly It’s a wise child⁠— Philip Cutting her short. Sh! Valentine starts nervously; for the sound made by Philip, though but momentary, is like cutting a sheet of silk in two with a flash of lightning. It is the result of long practice in checking Dolly’s indiscretions. The fact is, Mr. Valentine, we are the children of the celebrated Mrs. Lanfrey Clandon, an authoress of great repute⁠—in Madeira. No household is complete without her works. We came to England to get away from them. The are called the Twentieth Century Treatises. Dolly Twentieth Century Cooking. Philip Twentieth Century Creeds. Dolly Twentieth Century Clothing. Philip Twentieth Century Conduct. Dolly Twentieth Century Children. Philip Twentieth Century Parents. Dolly Cloth limp, half a dollar. Philip Or mounted on linen for hard family use, two dollars. No family should be without them. Read them, Mr. Valentine: they’ll improve your mind. Dolly But not till we’ve gone, please. Philip Quite so: we prefer people with unimproved minds. Our own minds are in that fresh and unspoiled condition. Valentine Dubiously. Hm! Dolly Echoing him inquiringly. Hm? Phil: he prefers people whose minds are improved. Philip In that case we shall have to introduce him to the other member of the family: the Woman of the Twentieth Century; our sister Gloria! Dolly Dithyrambically. Nature’s masterpiece! Philip Learning’s daughter! Dolly Madeira’s pride! Philip Beauty’s paragon! Dolly Suddenly descending to prose. Bosh! No complexion. Valentine Desperately. May I have a word? Philip Politely. Excuse us. Go ahead. Dolly Very nicely. So sorry. Valentine Attempting to take them paternally. I really must give a hint to you young people⁠— Dolly Breaking out again. Oh, come: I like that. How old are you? Philip Over thirty. Dolly He’s not. Philip Confidently. He is. Dolly Emphatically. Twenty-seven. Philip Imperturbably. Thirty-three. Dolly Stuff! Philip To Valentine. I appeal to you, Mr. Valentine. Valentine Remonstrating. Well, really⁠—resigning himself. Thirty-one. Philip To Dolly. You were wrong. Dolly So were you. Philip Suddenly conscientious. We’re forgetting our manners, Dolly. Dolly Remorseful. Yes, so we are. Philip Apologetic. We interrupted you, Mr. Valentine. Dolly You were going to improve our minds, I think. Valentine The fact is, your⁠— Philip Anticipating him. Our appearance? Dolly Our manners? Valentine Ad misericordiam. Oh, do let me speak. Dolly The old story. We talk too much. Philip We do. Shut up, both. He seats himself on the arm of the opposing chair. Dolly Mum! She sits down in the writing-table chair, and closes her lips tight with the tips of her fingers. Valentine Thank you. He brings the stool from the bench in the corner; places it between them; and sits down with a judicial air. They attend to him with extreme gravity. He addresses himself first to Dolly. Now may I ask, to begin with, have you ever been in an English seaside resort before? She shakes her head slowly and solemnly. He turns to Phil, who shakes his head quickly and expressively. I thought so. Well, Mr. Clandon, our acquaintance has been short; but it has been voluble; and I have gathered enough to convince me that you are neither of you capable of conceiving what life in an English seaside resort is. Believe me, it’s not a question of manners and appearance. In those respects we enjoy a freedom unknown in Madeira. Dolly shakes her head vehemently. Oh, yes, I assure you. Lord de Cresci’s sister bicycles in knickerbockers; and the rector’s wife advocates dress reform and wears hygienic boots. Dolly furtively looks at her own shoe: Valentine catches her in the act, and deftly adds, No, that’s not the sort of boot I mean. Dolly’s shoe vanishes. We don’t bother much about dress and manners in England, because, as a nation we don’t dress well and we’ve no manners. But⁠—and now will you excuse my frankness? They nod. Thank you. Well, in a seaside resort there’s one thing you must have before anybody can afford to be seen going about with you; and that’s a father, alive or dead. He looks at them alternately, with emphasis. They meet his gaze like martyrs. Am I to infer that you have omitted that indispensable part of your social equipment? They confirm him by melancholy nods. Them I’m sorry to say that if you are going to stay here for any length of time, it will be impossible for me to accept your kind invitation to lunch. He rises with an air of finality, and replaces the stool by the bench. Philip Rising with grave politeness. Come, Dolly. He gives her his arm. Dolly Good morning. They go together to the door with perfect dignity. Valentine Overwhelmed with remorse. Oh, stop, stop. They halt and turn, arm in arm. You make me feel a perfect beast. Dolly That’s your conscience: not us. Valentine Energetically, throwing off all pretence of a professional manner. My conscience! My conscience has been my ruin. Listen to me. Twice before I have set up as a respectable medical practitioner in various parts of England. On both occasions I acted conscientiously, and told my patients the brute truth instead of what they wanted to be told. Result, ruin. Now I’ve set up as a dentist, a five shilling dentist; and I’ve done with conscience forever. This is my last chance. I spent