Getting Married

her parents in⁠—well, in the way one does know one’s parents not knowing half their lives as you might say, or ever thinking that they was ever young; and she knew her children as children, and never thought of them as independent human beings till they ran away and nigh broke her heart for a week or two. But Mrs. George she came to know a lot about men of all sorts and ages; for the older she got the younger she liked ’em; and it certainly made her interesting, and gave her a lot of sense. I have often taken her advice on things when my own poor old woman wouldn’t have been a bit of use to me. Mrs. Bridgenorth I hope you don’t tell your wife that you go elsewhere for advice. Collins Lord bless you, ma’am, I’m that fond of my old Matilda that I never tell her anything at all for fear of hurting her feelings. You see, she’s such an out-and-out wife and mother that she’s hardly a responsible human being out of her house, except when she’s marketing. Mrs. Bridgenorth Does she approve of Mrs. George? Collins Oh, Mrs. George gets round her. Mrs. George can get round anybody if she wants to. And then Mrs. George is very particular about religion. And she’s a clairvoyant. Mrs. Bridgenorth Surprised. A clairvoyant! Collins Calm. Oh yes, ma’am, yes. All you have to do is to mesmerize her a bit; and off she goes into a trance, and says the most wonderful things! not things about herself, but as if it was the whole human race giving you a bit of its mind. Oh, wonderful, ma’am, I assure you. You couldn’t think of a game that Mrs. George isn’t up to. Lesbia Grantham comes in through the tower. She is a tall, handsome, slender lady in her prime; that is, between 36 and 55. She has what is called a well-bred air, dressing very carefully to produce that effect without the least regard for the latest fashions, sure of herself, very terrifying to the young and shy, fastidious to the ends of her long fingertips, and tolerant and amused rather than sympathetic. Lesbia Good morning, dear big sister. Mrs. Bridgenorth Good morning, dear little sister. They kiss. Lesbia Good morning, Collins. How well you are looking! And how young! She turns the middle chair away from the table and sits down. Collins That’s only my professional habit at a wedding, Miss. You should see me at a political dinner. I look nigh seventy. Looking at his watch. Time’s getting along, ma’am. May I send up word from you to Miss Edith to hurry a bit with her dressing? Mrs. Bridgenorth Do, Collins. Collins goes out through the tower, taking the cake with him. Lesbia Dear old Collins! Has he told you any stories this morning? Mrs. Bridgenorth Yes. You were just late for a particularly thrilling invention of his. Lesbia About Mrs. George? Mrs. Bridgenorth Yes. He says she’s a clairvoyant. Lesbia I wonder whether he really invented George, or stole her out of some book. Mrs. Bridgenorth I wonder! Lesbia Wheres the Barmecide? Mrs. Bridgenorth In the study, working away at his new book. He thinks no more now of having a daughter married than of having an egg for breakfast. The General, soothed by smoking, comes in from the garden. The General With resolute bonhomie. Ah, Lesbia! Mrs. Bridgenorth How do you do? They shake hands; and he takes the chair on her right. Mrs. Bridgenorth goes out through the tower. Lesbia How are you, Boxer? You look almost as gorgeous as the wedding cake. The General I make a point of appearing in uniform whenever I take part in any ceremony, as a lesson to the subalterns. It is not the custom in England; but it ought to be. Lesbia You look very fine, Boxer. What a frightful lot of bravery all these medals must represent! The General No, Lesbia. They represent despair and cowardice. I won all the early ones by trying to get killed. You know why. Lesbia But you had a charmed life? The General Yes, a charmed life. Bayonets bent on my buckles. Bullets passed through me and left no trace: that’s the worst of modern bullets: I’ve never been hit by a dumdum. When I was only a company officer I had at least the right to expose myself to death in the field. Now I’m a General even that resource is cut off. Persuasively drawing his chair nearer to her. Listen to me, Lesbia. For the tenth and last time⁠— Lesbia Interrupting. On Florence’s wedding morning, two years ago, you said “For the ninth and last time.” The General We are two years older, Lesbia. I’m fifty: you are⁠— Lesbia Yes, I know. It’s no use, Boxer. When will you be old enough to take no for an answer? The General Never, Lesbia, never. You have never given me a real reason for refusing me yet. I once thought it was somebody else. There were lots of fellows after you; but now they’ve all given it up and married. Bending still nearer to her. Lesbia: tell me your secret. Why⁠— Lesbia Sniffing disgustedly. Oh! You’ve been smoking. She rises and goes to the chair on the hearth. Keep away, you wretch. The General But for that pipe, I could not have faced you without breaking down. It has soothed me and nerved me. Lesbia Sitting down with The Times in her hand. Well, it has nerved me to tell you why I’m going to be an old maid. The General Impulsively approaching her. Don’t say that, Lesbia. It’s not natural: it’s not right: it’s⁠— Lesbia Fanning him off. No: no closer, Boxer, please. He retreats, discouraged. It may not be natural; but it happens all the time. You’ll find plenty of women like me, if you care to look for them: women with lots of character and good looks and money and offers, who won’t and don’t get married. Can’t you