Getting Married

and you know what she would feel if she came in and found you here. Collins Again appearing in the tower. Mrs. Reginald, ma’am. All three clamoring together. Lesbia No, no. Ask her to⁠— Mrs. Bridgenorth Oh, how unfortunate! The General Well, dash my buttons! It is too late: Leo is already in the kitchen. Collins goes out, mutely abandoning a situation which he deplores but has been unable to save. Leo is very pretty, very youthful, very restless, and consequently very charming to people who are touched by youth and beauty, as well as to those who regard young women as more or less appetizing lollipops, and don’t regard old women at all. Coldly studied, Leo’s restlessness is much less lovable than the kittenishness which comes from a rich and fresh vitality. She is a born fusser about herself and everybody else for whom she feels responsible; and her vanity causes her to exaggerate her responsibilities officiously. All her fussing is about little things; but she often calls them by big names, such as Art, the Divine Spark, the world, motherhood, good breeding, the Universe, the Creator, or anything else that happens to strike her imagination as sounding intellectually important. She has more than common imagination and no more than common conception and penetration; so that she is always on the high horse about words and always in the perambulator about things. Considering herself clever, thoughtful, and superior to ordinary weaknesses and prejudices, she recklessly attaches herself to clever men on that understanding, with the result that they are first delighted, then exasperated, and finally bored. When marrying Reginald she told her friends that there was a great deal in him which needed bringing out. If she were a middle-aged man she would be the terror of his club. Being a pretty young woman, she is forgiven everything, proving that “Tout comprendre, c’est tout pardonner” is an error, the fact being that the secret of forgiving everything is to understand nothing. She runs in fussily, full of her own importance, and swoops on Lesbia, who is much less disposed to spoil her than Mrs. Bridgenorth is. But Leo affects a special intimacy with Lesbia, as of two thinkers among the Philistines. Leo To Lesbia, kissing her. Good morning. Coming to Mrs. Bridgenorth. How do, Alice? Passing on towards the hearth. Why so gloomy, General? Reginald rises between her and the General. Oh, Rejjy! What will the King’s Proctor say? Reginald Damn the King’s Proctor! Leo Naughty. Well, I suppose I must kiss you; but don’t any of you tell. She kisses him. They can hardly believe their eyes. Have you kept all your promises? Reginald Oh, don’t begin bothering about those⁠— Leo Insisting. Have? You? Kept? Your? Promises? Have you rubbed your head with the lotion every night? Reginald Yes, yes. Nearly every night. Leo Nearly! I know what that means. Have you worn your liver pad? The General Solemnly. Leo: forgiveness is one of the most beautiful traits in a woman’s nature; but there are things that should not be forgiven to a man. When a man knocks a woman down⁠—Leo gives a little shriek of laughter and collapses on a chair next Mrs. Bridgenorth, on her left. Reginald Sardonically. The man that would raise his hand to a woman, save in the way of a kindness, is unworthy the name of Bridgenorth. He sits down at the end of the table nearest the hearth. The General Much huffed. Oh, well, if Leo does not mind, of course I have no more to say. But I think you might, out of consideration for the family, beat your wife in private and not in the presence of the gardener. Reginald Out of patience. What’s the good of beating your wife unless there’s a witness to prove it afterwards? You don’t suppose a man beats his wife for the fun of it, do you? How could she have got her divorce if I hadn’t beaten her? Nice state of things, that! The General Gasping. Do you mean to tell me that you did it in cold blood? simply to get rid of your wife? Reginald No, I didn’t: I did it to get her rid of me. What would you do if you were fool enough to marry a woman thirty years younger than yourself, and then found that she didn’t care for you, and was in love with a young fellow with a face like a mushroom. Leo He has not. Bursting into tears. And you are most unkind to say I didn’t care for you. Nobody could have been fonder of you. Reginald A nice way of showing your fondness! I had to go out and dig that flower bed all over with my own hands to soften it. I had to pick all the stones out of it. And then she complained that I hadn’t done it properly, because she got a worm down her neck. I had to go to Brighton with a poor creature who took a fancy to me on the way down, and got conscientious scruples about committing perjury after dinner. I had to put her down in the hotel book as Mrs. Reginald Bridgenorth: Leo’s name! Do you know what that feels like to a decent man? Do you know what a decent man feels about his wife’s name? How would you like to go into a hotel before all the waiters and people with⁠—with that on your arm? Not that it was the poor girl’s fault, of course; only she started crying because I couldn’t stand her touching me; and now she keeps writing to me. And then I’m held up in the public court for cruelty and adultery, and turned away from Edith’s wedding by Alice, and lectured by you! a bachelor, and a precious green one at that. What do you know about