Pirates Part 3

MRS. WARREN. Eh? Oh, yes, I believe so.

MRS. ROMNEY. I must try it on my hair--oh, dear, I mean----

MRS. WARREN. What did you say, Mrs. Romney?

MRS. ROMNEY. I said--I really must be going, my dear. One never seems to realize how fast the time goes when one talks with you. Our little visit has been most interesting ... and most instructive. I do want to stop in for a moment and see Mrs. Hallway before I go to the meeting of the "Helping Hand." Her rheumatism is worse again, poor dear.

MRS. WARREN. Yes, so I heard. I'm _so_ sorry.

MRS. ROMNEY. Oh, it is not at all serious, just a touch, I believe. Of course she did call in Doctor Hunter. But I really believe it was simply to get acquainted with him more than anything else. (_She starts._) Do drop in and see me when you can. Good afternoon, Mrs. Warren. (_She goes out._)

(_CLARA enters._)

CLARA. Shall I take away the tea things, ma'am?

MRS. WARREN. No ... no, not just yet, Clara. Someone else may drop in, you know, and perhaps Betty would like a cup of tea.

CLARA. Shall I call her, ma'am?

MRS. WARREN. Yes, I believe you had bet---- (_The knocker sounds._) There, there, see who that is, Clara.

(_CLARA goes into the hall. She returns immediately._)

CLARA. It's Mrs. Pickering, ma'am.

MRS. WARREN. Have her come right in, Clara.

CLARA. Shall I call Miss Betty, ma'am?

MRS. WARREN. Yes, do have her come down and have a cup of tea.

(_CLARA goes out. MRS. PICKERING enters._)

MRS. PICKERING. How do you do, Mrs. Warren?

MRS. WARREN. Oh, good afternoon. Do sit down, Mrs. Pickering.

MRS. PICKERING. Oh ... my dear Mrs. Warren, I am so glad to see you looking so well. I thought perhaps--of course there is much sickness in Northampton now. (_She sits down._) Much sickness. (_Pause._) I just met Mrs. Lawty and she told me that Mrs. Hallway is almost dead with rheumatism ... almost dead. In fact, I think they hardly expect her to live much longer. Of course, Mrs. Lawty didn't say so, but I implied as much from the tone of her voice.

MRS. WARREN. I heard it was nothing really serious.

MRS. PICKERING. Oh, dear, yes ... very serious. I just had it from Mrs.

Lawty, who had it from ... from ... from a most reliable source.

Rheumatism is such a painful death, too. Oh, dear, poor soul ... poor soul! (_MRS. WARREN hands her a cup of tea._) Thank you so much.

MRS. WARREN. I believe the new Doctor Hunter is attending her.

MRS. PICKERING. Yes, isn't it too bad? Mrs. Lawty tells me he is a conversationalist, or something dreadful of that sort. But of course he was educated in London ... and, my dear, London's standard of morals is not the same as Northampton's. I was also told that he treats 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 s.h.i.+eld 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 pa.s.sage 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._)