class="x-ebookmaker-pageno" title="[Pg 7]"/> Mrs. Lawer told me that the doctor calls Mrs. Hunter "Dearest" ... in public!

Mrs. Warren. Such poor taste.

Mrs. Lawty. I always suspect a man who is over-demonstrative ... in public.

Mrs. Warren. But of course one——

(Betty comes running in, her arms full of daisies.)

Betty. Mother dear—— Oh, good afternoon, Mrs. Lawty. See the wonderful flowers Doctor Hunter just gave me.

Mrs. Warren. Doctor Hunter gave you those?

Mrs. Lawty. Doctor Hunter!

Betty. Yes, his garden is full of them! Aren't they beauties?

Mrs. Warren. But you hardly know him well enough to——

Betty. You see we are getting acquainted. He was on his way to see Mrs. Hallway and——

Mrs. Lawty. Is she ill again?

Betty. Rheumatism ... not really serious.

Mrs. Lawty. Oh, really?

Betty. And as the doctor was coming this way, he walked to the gate with me ... we had a lovely chat. Doctor Hunter is such an interesting conversationalist.

Mrs. Lawty. (Coldly) Walking! Hasn't he a carriage?

Betty. Oh, yes, but it is such a wonderful day for walking.

Mrs. Lawty. I daresay that all depends upon with whom one is walking.

Mrs. Warren. Betty, you don't really mean to tell me that you walked ... walked down a public highway with a strange man!

Betty. Why, Mother, he isn't a strange man. I know both Doctor and Mrs. Hunter.

Mrs. Warren. But such a short acquaintance ... and to be walking with him ... walking with him in broad daylight.

Betty. What would you have me do? Walk with him after dark?

Mrs. Warren. Oh!

Mrs. Lawty. (When she recovers her breath) I—I really must be going, Mrs. Warren. I must not be late to the meeting, you know. (She pauses.) And perhaps you would rather be alone with your daughter at this time. (She rises.) Good afternoon, Mrs. Warren. Good afternoon.

Mrs. Warren. Good afternoon, Mrs. Lawty.

Betty. Good-bye.

(Mrs. Lawty goes out. Mrs. Warren waits until the front door slams before she speaks.)

Mrs. Warren. (Much concerned) Betty, how could you?

Betty. But, Mother——

Mrs. Warren. Walking with a man, a man who is married and not on the best terms with his wife, accepting flowers from him, a Presbyterian, unchaperoned. Oh! It is so unbecoming ... so—so unladylike, not to say indiscreet. Oh! Why, when I was a girl——

Betty. I know. (She goes close to her mother.) But things have changed so since then, dear.

Mrs. Warren. Not in Northampton, thank heaven. Here, at least, we still keep some of the old propriety. Oh, Betty, this bold indiscretion of yours would have killed your poor, dear father!

Betty. (Turning away) Perhaps that's what did ... too much propriety.

Mrs. Warren. Did you say something, Betty?

Betty. I am sorry, dear ... truly sorry if I have caused you any anxiety.

Mrs. Warren. We must cultivate the doctor's wife at once. There must be no room for gossip among the ladies of Northampton.

Betty. Cultivate Mrs. Hunter? Oh, I would love to. She is a delightful person. Don't you like her, Mother?

Mrs. Warren. She seems very nice, but, of course, one must be very careful about strangers.

Betty. She is very fond of outdoor life, and all that sort of thing. Oh, she is a regular sport!

Mrs. Warren. Betty! Let me never hear such a remark from you again. Sport! Am I to understand, then ... am I to understand that Mrs. Hunter is one of those dreadful mannish sort of persons who—— (The knocker sounds.) Oh, dear me! I wonder who that can be?

Betty. If you don't mind, Mother, I shall go up to my room. I want to do a water-color sketch of these flowers while they are still fresh.

Mrs. Warren. Stop here a bit, Betty.

(Clara enters from the hall.)

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

Mrs. Warren. Oh, do have her come right in, Clara ... and Clara, serve the tea at once. (Clara goes out.) Mrs. Romney—oh, dear ... such a bombastic sort of a person, so to speak.

Betty. She was educated in London, you know.

Mrs. Warren. Yes, poor dear, she has so much to live down. It must be dreadful to have been educated in London ... such a naughty place. Think of the dreadful environment, my dear, London!

(Mrs. Romney enters.)

Mrs. Romney. Good afternoon, Mrs. Warren. How do you do, Betty, dear?

Mrs. Warren. Do sit down, Mrs. Romney.

Mrs. Romney. Did I hear you speaking of London as I came in, Mrs. Warren?

Mrs. Warren. London? Speaking of London? Were we speaking of London, Betty? Yes, I believe I did say——

Mrs. Romney. Dear old London ... how I long for it!

Mrs. Warren. But my dear Mrs. Romney, London surely hasn't the ... the refinement of Northampton.

Mrs. Romney. Northampton! Ah! Why, this place is as far from the world as ... as the South Sea Islands!

Mrs. Warren. Mrs. Romney, how—how can you even think such a thing? Why, in the South Sea Islands, I am told, the people wear nothing but straw skirts ... and pirates, pirates take things—unmentionable things from innocent travelers. One could not accuse the people of Northampton of such things. Even our shop-keepers are gentlemen compared to those dreadful people who live in the South Seas.

Mrs. Romney. The people of the South Sea Islands are at least—interesting.

Mrs. Warren. Perfect savages!

Mrs. Romney. But, my dear, all our forefathers were savages, you know ... hitting each other over the head with clubs, hanging from palm trees by their tails, and all that sort of thing.

Mrs. Warren. Oh, dear!

Mrs. Romney. And the longer I live in Northampton, my dear, the more I'm convinced that it wasn't so very many generations ago, either.

Mrs. Warren. Oh ... oh ... oh! Betty, you may go! You will excuse the dear child, I am