Misalliance

Bunny alone. I’m just as bad as you. There! Hypatia Oh, I don’t mind your saying that about Bentley. It’s true. He is a little squit of a thing. I wish he wasn’t. But who else is there? Think of all the other chances I’ve had! Not one of them has as much brains in his whole body as Bentley has in his little finger. Besides, they’ve no distinction. It’s as much as I can do to tell one from the other. They wouldn’t even have money if they weren’t the sons of their fathers, like Johnny. What’s a girl to do? I never met anybody like Bentley before. He may be small; but he’s the best of the bunch: you can’t deny that. Mrs. Tarleton With a sigh. Well, my pet, if you fancy him, there’s no more to be said. A pause follows this remark: the two women sewing silently. Hypatia Mother: do you think marriage is as much a question of fancy as it used to be in your time and father’s? Mrs. Tarleton Oh, it wasn’t much fancy with me, dear: your father just wouldn’t take no for an answer; and I was only too glad to be his wife instead of his shopgirl. Still, it’s curious; but I had more choice than you in a way, because, you see, I was poor; and there are so many more poor men than rich ones that I might have had more of a pick, as you might say, if John hadn’t suited me. Hypatia I can imagine all sorts of men I could fall in love with; but I never seem to meet them. The real ones are too small, like Bunny, or too silly, like Jerry. Of course one can get into a state about any man: fall in love with him if you like to call it that. But who would risk marrying a man for love? I shouldn’t. I remember three girls at school who agreed that the one man you should never marry was the man you were in love with, because it would make a perfect slave of you. There’s a sort of instinct against it, I think, that’s just as strong as the other instinct. One of them, to my certain knowledge, refused a man she was in love with, and married another who was in love with her; and it turned out very well. Mrs. Tarleton Does all that mean that you’re not in love with Bunny? Hypatia Oh, how could anybody be in love with Bunny? I like him to kiss me just as I like a baby to kiss me. I’m fond of him; and he never bores me; and I see that he’s very clever; but I’m not what you call gone about him, if that’s what you mean. Mrs. Tarleton Then why need you marry him? Hypatia What better can I do? I must marry somebody, I suppose. I’ve realized that since I was twenty-three. I always used to take it as a matter of course that I should be married before I was twenty. Bentley’s Voice In the garden. You’ve got to keep yourself fresh: to look at these things with an open mind. John Tarleton’s Voice. Quite right, quite right: I always say so. Mrs. Tarleton There’s your father, and Bunny with him. Bentley Keep young. Keep your eye on me. That’s the tip for you. Bentley and Mr. Tarleton (an immense and genial veteran of trade) come into view and enter the pavilion. John Tarleton You think you’re young, do you? You think I’m old? Energetically shaking off his motoring coat and hanging it up with his cap. Bentley Helping him with the coat. Of course you’re old. Look at your face and look at mine. What you call your youth is nothing but your levity. Why do we get on so well together? Because I’m a young cub and you’re an old josser. He throws a cushion at Hypatia’s feet and sits down on it with his back against her knees. Tarleton Old! That’s all you know about it, my lad. How do, Patsy! Hypatia kisses him. How is my Chickabiddy? He kisses Mrs. Tarleton’s hand and poses expansively in the middle of the picture. Look at me! Look at these wrinkles, these gray hairs, this repulsive mask that you call old age! What is it? Vehemently. I ask you, what is it? Bentley Jolly nice and venerable, old man. Don’t be discouraged. Tarleton Nice? Not a bit of it. Venerable? Venerable be blowed! Read your Darwin, my boy. Read your Weismann. He goes to the sideboard for a drink of lemonade. Mrs. Tarleton For shame, John! Tell him to read his Bible. Tarleton Manipulating the syphon. What’s the use of telling children to read the Bible when you know they won’t. I was kept away from the Bible for forty years by being told to read it when I was young. Then I picked it up one evening in a hotel in Sunderland when I had left all my papers in the train; and I found it wasn’t half bad. He drinks, and puts down the glass with a smack of enjoyment. Better than most halfpenny papers, anyhow, if only you could make people believe it. He sits down by the writing-table, near his wife. But if you want to understand old age scientifically, read Darwin and Weismann. Of course if you want to understand it romantically, read about Solomon. Mrs. Tarleton Have you had tea, John? Tarleton Yes. Don’t interrupt me when I’m improving the boy’s mind. Where was I? This repulsive mask⁠—Yes. Explosively. What is death? Mrs. Tarleton John! Hypatia Death is a rather unpleasant subject, papa. Tarleton Not a bit. Not scientifically. Scientifically it’s a delightful subject. You think death’s natural. Well, it isn’t. You read Weismann. There wasn’t any death to start with. You go look in any ditch outside and you’ll find swimming about there as fresh as paint some of the identical