You Never Can Tell

that satisfy you? Philip Another grievance, Dolly. Dolly We’re not sympathetic. Gloria Leaning forward in her chair and looking earnestly up at her mother. Mother: I did not mean to be unsympathetic. Mrs. Clandon Affectionately. Of course not, dear. Do you think I don’t understand? Gloria Rising. But, mother⁠— Mrs. Clandon Drawing back a little. Yes? Gloria Obstinately. It is nonsense to tell us that our father is nothing to us. Mrs. Clandon Provoked to sudden resolution. Do you remember your father? Gloria Meditatively, as if the recollection were a tender one. I am not quite sure. I think so. Mrs. Clandon Grimly. You are not sure? Gloria No. Mrs. Clandon With quiet force. Gloria: if I had ever struck you⁠—Gloria recoils: Philip and Dolly are disagreeably shocked; all three start at her, revolted as she continues,⁠—struck you purposely, deliberately, with the intention of hurting you, with a whip bought for the purpose! Would you remember that, do you think? Gloria utters an exclamation of indignant repulsion. That would have been your last recollection of your father, Gloria, if I had not taken you away from him. I have kept him out of your life: keep him now out of mine by never mentioning him to me again. Gloria, with a shudder, covers her face with her hands, until, hearing someone at the door, she turns away and pretends to occupy herself looking at the names of the books in the bookcase. Mrs. Clandon sits down on the sofa. Valentine returns. Valentine I hope I’ve not kept you waiting. That landlord of mine is really an extraordinary old character. Dolly Eagerly. Oh, tell us. How long has he given you to pay? Mrs. Clandon Distracted by her child’s bad manners. Dolly, Dolly, Dolly dear! You must not ask questions. Dolly Demurely. So sorry. You’ll tell us, won’t you, Mr. Valentine? Valentine He doesn’t want his rent at all. He’s broken his tooth on a Brazil nut; and he wants me to look at it and to lunch with him afterwards. Dolly Then have him up and pull his tooth out at once; and we’ll bring him to lunch, too. Tell the maid to fetch him along. She runs to the bell and rings it vigorously. Then, with a sudden doubt she turns to Valentine and adds, I suppose he’s respectable⁠—really respectable. Valentine Perfectly. Not like me. Dolly Honest Injun? Mrs. Clandon gasps faintly; but her powers of remonstrance are exhausted. Valentine Honest Injun! Dolly Then off with you and bring him up. Valentine Looking dubiously at Mrs. Clandon. I daresay he’d be delighted if⁠—er⁠—? Mrs. Clandon Rising and looking at her watch. I shall be happy to see your friend at lunch, if you can persuade him to come; but I can’t wait to see him now: I have an appointment at the hotel at a quarter to one with an old friend whom I have not seen since I left England eighteen years ago. Will you excuse me? Valentine Certainly, Mrs. Clandon. Gloria Shall I come? Mrs. Clandon No, dear. I want to be alone. She goes out, evidently still a good deal troubled. Valentine opens the door for her and follows her out. Philip Significantly⁠—to Dolly. Hmhm! Dolly Significantly to Philip. Ahah! The parlor maid answers the bell. Dolly Show the old gentleman up. The Parlor Maid Puzzled. Madam? Dolly The old gentleman with the toothache. Philip The landlord. The Parlor Maid Mr. Crampton, Sir? Philip Is his name Crampton? Dolly To Philip. Sounds rheumaticky, doesn’t it? Philip Chalkstones, probably. Dolly Over her shoulder, to the parlor maid. Show Mr. Crampstones up. Goes R. to writing-table chair. The Parlor Maid Correcting her. Mr. Crampton, miss. She goes. Dolly Repeating it to herself like a lesson. Crampton, Crampton, Crampton, Crampton, Crampton. She sits down studiously at the writing-table. I must get that name right, or Heaven knows what I shall call him. Gloria Phil: can you believe such a horrible thing as that about our father⁠—what mother said just now? Philip Oh, there are lots of people of that kind. Old Chalice used to thrash his wife and daughters with a cartwhip. Dolly Contemptuously. Yes, a Portuguese! Philip When you come to men who are brutes, there is much in common between the Portuguese and the English variety, Doll. Trust my knowledge of human nature. He resumes his position on the hearthrug with an elderly and responsible air. Gloria With angered remorse. I don’t think we shall ever play again at our old game of guessing what our father was to be like. Dolly: are you sorry for your father⁠—the father with lots of money? Dolly Oh, come! What about your father⁠—the lonely old man with the tender aching heart? He’s pretty well burst up, I think. Philip There can be no doubt that the governor is an exploded superstition. Valentine is heard talking to somebody outside the door. But hark: he comes. Gloria Nervously. Who? Dolly Chalkstones. Philip Sh! Attention. They put on their best manners. Philip adds in a lower voice to Gloria, If he’s good enough for the lunch, I’ll nod to Dolly; and if she nods to you, invite him straight away. Valentine comes back with his landlord. Mr. Fergus Crampton is a man of about sixty, tall, hard and stringy, with an atrociously obstinate, ill tempered, grasping mouth, and a querulously dogmatic voice. Withal he is highly nervous and sensitive, judging by his thin transparent skin marked with multitudinous lines, and his slender fingers. His consequent capacity for suffering acutely from all the dislike that his temper and obstinacy can bring upon him is proved by his wistful, wounded eyes, by a plaintive note in his voice, a painful want of confidence in his welcome, and a constant but indifferently successful effort to correct his natural incivility of manner and proneness to take offence. By his keen brows and forehead he is clearly a shrewd