austere way! (Aloud.) Won't you take a chair? It would be so much more comfortable.

[He shifts his seat uneasily.

Curphew (stiffly). Thanks, Mr. Toovey, but I'd rather stand—for so short a time. (A pause.) Well, Sir, you have something to say to me, I believe?

Mr. Toov. (to himself). Oh dear, I'm almost sorry now I—he won't make sufficient allowances for me. (Aloud, after another pause.) The fact is, Mr. Curphew, I—I've just made a—a very painful discovery, which—is there any water in that decanter? because I—I feel a little thirsty.

[Curphew pours him out a glass of water, which he sips.

Curph. Come, Sir, we needn't beat about the bush. I think I can spare you the preliminaries. I suppose you've heard about the Eldorado?

Mr. Toov. (to himself). He knows already! These journalists find out everything. (Aloud.) I—I have indeed, but I assure you that, up to the very moment my nephew informed me, I had no more suspicion——

Curph. You naturally consider that I ought to have told you at once, but the fact is, I—well, I had some reason to doubt whether Mrs. Toovey——

Mr. Toov. Oh, you were quite right, it would never have done—never have done. I haven't breathed a word to Mrs. Toovey myself as yet. I was afraid I might be obliged to this morning. She discovered that dreadful Eldorado programme in one of my pockets, and was curious, very naturally curious, as to why I had kept it, but I passed it off—I managed to pass it off. I—I thought it better, at all events, till—till I had talked it over with you.

Curph. (to himself, relieved). He takes it wonderfully well. I shouldn't be surprised if I could talk him over. (Aloud.) Oh, decidedly, Sir. And may I ask you what your own views are?

Mr. Toov. I—I don't know what to think. For a man in my position to have even the remotest connection with—with a London music-hall! Wouldn't it be considered scandalous, or at least indecorous, if it were to leak out now? Shouldn't I be regarded as—as inconsistent, for example?

Curph. Oh, no one could reproach you, at all events, Sir!

Mr. Toov. (to himself). And I thought he was going to be so hard on me! (Aloud.) I am glad you take that view of it—yes, I can't be held responsible for what I did in absolute ignorance; but, now that I do know, I can't go on, can I?—after a lifetime spent in condemning such entertainments!

Curph. But are you quite sure, Sir, that your condemnation was based on any real foundation; mayn't you have been too ready to think the worst? Have you ever troubled yourself to inquire into the way they were conducted?

Mr. Toov. (to himself, in astonishment). Why, he's actually making excuses for them! (Aloud.) I have always been given to understand that they were most improper places, Sir; that was sufficient for me—quite sufficient!

Curph. I daresay I have no right to speak; but you may not be aware that all music-halls are now subject to the strictest supervision. And a body like the London County Council is not likely to sanction any impropriety in the entertainments.

Mr. Toov. (to himself). If I could only persuade myself that I might keep the shares with a good conscience! To give up three hundred and fifty a year, without necessity! I wonder what he would say. (Aloud.) True, that didn't occur to me before; and the London County Council, they wouldn't encourage anything really——If I could only be sure—and I'm open to conviction—I hope I'm always open to conviction.

"I drop into a music-hall?"

Curph. (to himself). He's coming round; he's not such a pig-headed old Pharisee as I thought. (Aloud.) I am sure you are. You are not the man to condemn any form of amusement, however harmless, merely because you find no attraction in it yourself.

Mr. Toov. No, no. And I see the force of what you say; and if I could only once satisfy myself that the entertainment was really harmless——

Curph. (to himself). He couldn't very well object to my part of it—it's an idea, and worth trying. (Aloud.) My dear Sir, why shouldn't you? In any case I should terminate my connection with the music-hall as soon as possible.

Mr. Toov. (disappointed). Would you? Then you do think——? But the sacrifice, my dear young friend, it—it's a great deal of money to give up!

Curph. (lightly). Oh, that's of no consequence. I shouldn't think of that, for a moment!

Mr. Toov. (to himself, annoyed). It's all very well for him to talk like that, but it's my sacrifice, and I do think of it! (Aloud.) But—but wouldn't it be a little Quixotic to withdraw from this Eldorado, supposing I found there was no moral objection to it, eh?

Curph. I thought you would be the first to insist that the Eldorado should be given up! Surely, Sir, when I tell you that I love your daughter; that I hope, though I have not spoken as yet, to enter your family some day as your son-in-law, you will look at it differently?

Mr. Toov. (to himself). He does want to marry our Thea? Cornelia will he delighted—delighted, but I really can't allow him to dictate to me whether to sell the shares or not! (Aloud, with dignity.) My good young friend, I have lived longer than you in the world, and you will permit me to say that if, after investigation, I see no cause to disapprove of the Eldorado, there is no reason that I can discover why you should hesitate to enter my family. I—I must act on my own judgment—entirely on my own judgment!

Curph. (to himself). He is an old trump! Who would have thought he'd be so reasonable. (Aloud, overjoyed.) My dear Sir, how can I thank you? That is all I ask—more than I could possibly have expected. And I was about to suggest that you might drop into the Eldorado some evening this week and judge for yourself.

Mr. Toov. (recoiling in consternation). I? I drop into a music-hall? Oh, I couldn't, indeed! Why, I never was in such a place in all my life. And if anybody were to see me there!

Curph. You need not be seen at all. There are private boxes where no one would notice you, I could easily get them to send you one, if you like.

Mr. Toov. (to himself). What a power the Press is, to be sure! I remember Charles said that newspaper writers could get seats for everything. (Aloud.) Really, I hardly know what to say; it's so very contrary to all my habits, and then—to go alone. Now if you would only accompany me——

Curph. You forget, Sir, that's quite impossible. I can't come in the box with you!

Mr. Toov. (to himself). There it is—it's against his principles to go himself, and yet he expects me to! (Aloud, peevishly.) Then why are you so anxious to have me go, eh?

Curph. Why? Because there are Mrs. Toovey's prejudices to be considered, and I'm anxious that you should be in a position to assure her from your own personal experience that——

Mr. Toov. Oh, my dear young friend, if I did go, I don't think I could ever mention such an experience as that to Mrs. Toovey. She—she might fail to understand that I merely went for the satisfaction of my own conscience.