his wife very badly in public, my dear, in public.

Mrs. Warren. You mean——

Mrs. Pickering. My dear Mrs. Warren, I am very sorry to tell you ... but I feel that it is my duty, as wife of your pastor ... to tell you that your daughter Betty has been seen very often,—that is, at least once—walking with this Doctor Hunter. Also, my dear Mrs. Warren, she accepts presents from him ... flowers and that sort of thing.

Mrs. Warren. Why, Betty hardly knows him!

Mrs. Pickering. That is just it. She hardly knows him ... nor do any of us. Also remember he is a married man, my dear Mrs. Warren, and very good looking ... and I really believe all good-looking people are bad, thoroughly bad.

Mrs. Warren. I can't believe that Betty——

Mrs. Pickering. Naturally, my dear, naturally; you are her mother and wish to shield her. But I felt that it was, as I said before, my duty to tell you all I know of the facts of the whole matter.

Mrs. Warren. You quite alarm me, Mrs. Pickering.

Mrs. Pickering. Young girls, nowadays, are sometimes ... I might say, sometimes indiscreet.

Mrs. Warren. Oh!

Mrs. Pickering. My dear, men are strange beings. Oh, the poor souls that have been lured to their destruction by men. I am always reminded of that beautiful passage in Genesis which says that woman was made after man. And isn't it our dear Mr. Browning who says, "Second thoughts are always best"? (She puts down her teacup.) There, now, I really must be going, Mrs. Warren. I am on my way to the meeting of the "Helping Hand Society" and I really mustn't be too late. I hope I have not overly alarmed you, Mrs. Warren, but as one of your oldest friends and as the wife of your pastor I feel that I must always do my duty, no matter how painful, when the way lies open before me. I sincerely hope you will not feel that I have been ... been peremptory, so to speak, Mrs. Warren.

Mrs. Warren. No ... no. It is very kind of you to come to me in this sad moment of trouble.

Mrs. Pickering. (Rising) I do hope you will be able to attend the services to-morrow morning. Mr. Pickering has written a beautiful sermon on the evils of gossip ... a beautiful sermon. I feel that it is the best thing he has written in all the forty years of his righteous work. I am sure it will thunder down the ages as his masterpiece. The sentiment, the beautiful English, and even the punctuation ... are really marvelous. Of course, Mr. Pickering and I both realize that there is very little gossip in Northampton ... but it is best to know sin when one encounters it. Good afternoon, Mrs. Warren.

Mrs. Warren. (Weakly) Good afternoon.

(Mrs. Pickering goes out. Clara enters.)

Clara. I have brought the hot water, ma'am.

Mrs. Warren. Did you call Betty?

Clara. I knocked at her door, ma'am ... I knocked very loudly, ma'am, but got no answer.

Mrs. Warren. I am so distressed, Clara. See if she is in the garden. Yes, she must be in the garden. (Clara starts.) And Clara, do tell her to come in and see me at once. I want to talk to her. It is very important ... oh, most important that I see her at once. Clara. (The knocker sounds.) See who that can be, Clara. Oh, more dreadful news, I fear. (Clara goes into the hall. Mrs. Warren keeps mumbling to herself:) Most disconcerting ... most dreadfully disconcerting.

(Clara enters.)

Clara. It is Mrs. Lawer, ma'am.

Mrs. Warren. Eh? What? Who, did you say?

Clara. Mrs. Lawer, ma'am.

Mrs. Warren. Mrs. Lawer? Oh, do have her come right in, Clara.

(Clara goes out. Mrs. Lawer enters.)

Mrs. Lawer. Good afternoon, Mrs. Warren, good afternoon. (Breathlessly) How ill, how worried you are looking, Mrs. Warren. Oh, I am so sorry for you ... so very sorry. (She sits down.) I have just seen Mrs. Romney, who had just seen Mrs. Lawty, and had the dreadful news from her. I am so sorry, Mrs. Warren.

Mrs. Warren. But what——

Mrs. Lawer. But, of course, we who have known you for all these years will be as silent as the tomb ... you can depend upon us, lean upon us, call upon us. We shall comfort you and be your support in this hour of greatest need.

Mrs. Warren. Why ... why, what do you mean?

Mrs. Lawer. You really mean to say you do not know about Betty and Doctor Hunter? Oh, dear!

Mrs. Warren. But Betty did nothing so very, very improper.

Mrs. Lawer. Improper! Well, of course, we shall not blame poor Betty, she is still very young, but we do blame that wicked Doctor Hunter. Why, he is a married man, my dear ... and oldish. He should have known better.

Mrs. Warren. But Betty only walked with him.

Mrs. Lawer. Only walked with him? I was told that he sends flowers to Betty ... and flowers have secret meanings. To say the least, they are sentimental. And Mrs. Lawty told Mrs. Romney that she heard Betty say with her own lips that Doctor Hunter was a conversationalist. I believe that means a person with very free ideas about personal matters ... love, and that sort of thing.

Mrs. Warren. No, indeed ... it simply means that he is a very interesting talker.

Mrs. Lawer. That's just it, Mrs. Warren. What does he find so much to talk about? I have never met him, but from things I have heard I believe he must be a dreadful person. Most unwholesome, so to speak, to the society—the very refined society of Northampton, where for the last forty years we have all lived in such perfect peace and understanding.

Mrs. Warren. Oh, that this should have come upon me!

Mrs. Lawer. Your misfortune is our misfortune, Mrs. Warren. We shall do everything we can to keep this dreadful scandal——

Mrs. Warren. Scandal! Has it—has it gone as far as that?

Mrs. Lawer. Let us say, indiscretion. As I was saying, we shall keep it locked in our hearts, no word of it will ever reach foreign ears. Of course I really know very little of the whole affair, but I felt that my first duty was to come to you.

(Clara enters.)

Mrs. Warren. Yes, Clara?

Clara. I can't find her, ma'am.

Mrs. Warren. Oh, do find her, Clara. I must ... I must see her at once. (The knocker sounds.) Who can that be? Clara ... Clara, see who is at the door.

(Clara goes out.)