CULVER. You ought to marry Mr. Sampson Straight.
(Hildegarde starts and is silent.)
JOHN. Fancy me having to go back to school the
son of a rotten baronet, and with the frightful doom
of being a rotten baronet myself. What price
the anti-hereditary-principle candidate! Dad,
I hope you won’t die just yet—it
would ruin my political career. Stay me with flagons!
CULVER. Me too!
CURTAIN.
ACT III
The next day, before lunch. Hildegarde
and John are together.
JOHN (nervously impatient). I wish she’d
come.
HILDEGARDE. She’ll be here in a moment.
She’s fussing round dad.
JOHN. Is he really ill?
HILDEGARDE. Well of course. It came on in
the night, after he’d had time to think things
over. Why?
JOHN. I read in some paper about the Prime Minister
having only a political chill. So I thought
perhaps the pater—under the circs—
HILDEGARDE (shaking her head). You can’t
have political dyspepsia. Can’t fake the
symptoms. Who is to begin this affair, you or
me?
JOHN. Depends. What line are you going on
with her?
HILDEGARDE. I’m going to treat her exactly
as she treats me. I’ve just thought of
it. Only I shan’t lose my temper.
JOHN. Sugarsticks?
HILDEGARDE. Yes.
JOHN. You’ll never be able to keep it up.
HILDEGARDE. O yes I shall. Somehow I feel
much more mature than I did yesterday.
JOHN. More mature? Stay me with flagons!
I was always mature. If you knew what rot I think
school is...! Well, anyway, you can begin.
HILDEGARDE. You’re very polite to-day,
Johnnie.
JOHN. Don’t mention it. My argument
’ll be the best, and I want to keep it for the
end, that’s all.
HILDEGARDE. Thanks. But I bet you we shall
both fail.
JOHN. Well, if we do, I’ve still got something
else waiting for her ladyship. A regular startler,
my child.
HILDEGARDE. What is it?
Enter Mrs. Culver, back.
JOHN (to Hildegarde, as Mrs. Culver
enters). Wait and see.
MRS. CULVER (cheerful and affectionate, to
John). So you’ve come in. (To Hildegarde.)
You are back early to-day! Well, my darlings,
what do you want me for?
HILDEGARDE (imitating her mothers manner).
Well, mamma darling, we hate bothering you. We
know you’ve got quite enough worries, without
having any more. But it’s about this baronetcy
business. (Mrs. Culver starts.) Do be an angel
and listen to us.
MRS. CULVER (with admirable self-control).
Of course, my pet. But you know the matter is
quite, quite settled. Your father and I settled
it together last night, and the letter of acceptance
is in the hands of the Government by this time.
