ANN. [with some impatience] Why do you say that? Is it unwomanly to be thoughtful and businesslike and sensible? Do you want Violet to be an idiot--or something worse, like me?
OCTAVIUS. Something worse--like you! What do you mean, Ann?
ANN. Oh well, I don"t mean that, of course. But I have a great respect for Violet. She gets her own way always.
OCTAVIUS. [sighing] So do you.
ANN. Yes; but somehow she gets it without coaxing--without having to make people sentimental about her.
OCTAVIUS. [with brotherly callousness] n.o.body could get very sentimental about Violet, I think, pretty as she is.
ANN. Oh yes they could, if she made them.
OCTAVIUS. But surely no really nice woman would deliberately practise on men"s instincts in that way.
ANN. [throwing up her hands] Oh Tavy, Tavy, Ricky Ticky Tavy, heaven help the woman who marries you!
OCTAVIUS. [his pa.s.sion reviving at the name] Oh why, why, why do you say that? Don"t torment me. I don"t understand.
ANN. Suppose she were to tell fibs, and lay snares for men?
OCTAVIUS. Do you think I could marry such a woman--I, who have known and loved you?
ANN. Hm! Well, at all events, she wouldn"t let you if she were wise. So that"s settled. And now I can"t talk any more. Say you forgive me, and that the subject is closed.
OCTAVIUS. I have nothing to forgive; and the subject is closed. And if the wound is open, at least you shall never see it bleed.
ANN. Poetic to the last, Tavy. Goodbye, dear. [She pats his check; has an impulse to kiss him and then another impulse of distaste which prevents her; finally runs away through the garden and into the villa].
Octavius again takes refuge at the table, bowing his head on his arms and sobbing softly. Mrs Whitefield, who has been pottering round the Granada shops, and has a net full of little parcels in her hand, comes in through the gate and sees him.
MRS WHITEFIELD. [running to him and lifting his head] What"s the matter, Tavy? Are you ill?
OCTAVIUS. No, nothing, nothing.
MRS WHITEFIELD. [still holding his head, anxiously] But you"re crying.
Is it about Violet"s marriage?
OCTAVIUS. No, no. Who told you about Violet?
MRS WHITEFIELD. [restoring the head to its owner] I met Roebuck and that awful old Irishman. Are you sure you"re not ill? What"s the matter?
OCTAVIUS. [affectionately] It"s nothing--only a man"s broken heart.
Doesn"t that sound ridiculous?
MRS WHITEFIELD. But what is it all about? Has Ann been doing anything to you?
OCTAVIUS. It"s not Ann"s fault. And don"t think for a moment that I blame you.
MRS WHITEFIELD. [startled] For what?
OCTAVIUS. [pressing her hand consolingly] For nothing. I said I didn"t blame you.
MRS WHITEFIELD. But I haven"t done anything. What"s the matter?
OCTAVIUS. [smiling sadly] Can"t you guess? I daresay you are right to prefer Jack to me as a husband for Ann; but I love Ann; and it hurts rather. [He rises and moves away from her towards the middle of the lawn].
MRS WHITEFIELD. [following him hastily] Does Ann say that I want her to marry Jack?
OCTAVIUS. Yes: she has told me.
MRS WHITEFIELD. [thoughtfully] Then I"m very sorry for you, Tavy. It"s only her way of saying SHE wants to marry Jack. Little she cares what I say or what I want!
OCTAVIUS. But she would not say it unless she believed it. Surely you don"t suspect Ann of--of DECEIT!!
MRS WHITEFIELD. Well, never mind, Tavy. I don"t know which is best for a young man: to know too little, like you, or too much, like Jack.
Tanner returns.
TANNER. Well, I"ve disposed of old Malone. I"ve introduced him to Mendoza, Limited; and left the two brigands together to talk it out.
Hullo, Tavy! anything wrong?
OCTAVIUS. I must go wash my face, I see. [To Mrs Whitefield] Tell him what you wish. [To Tanner] You may take it from me, Jack, that Ann approves of it.
TANNER. [puzzled by his manner] Approves of what?
OCTAVIUS. Of what Mrs Whitefield wishes. [He goes his way with sad dignity to the villa].
TANNER. [to Mrs Whitefield] This is very mysterious. What is it you wish? It shall be done, whatever it is.
MRS WHITEFIELD. [with snivelling grat.i.tude] Thank you, Jack. [She sits down. Tanner brings the other chair from the table and sits close to her with his elbows on his knees, giving her his whole attention]. I don"t know why it is that other people"s children are so nice to me, and that my own have so little consideration for me. It"s no wonder I don"t seem able to care for Ann and Rhoda as I do for you and Tavy and Violet. It"s a very queer world. It used to be so straightforward and simple; and now n.o.body seems to think and feel as they ought. Nothing has been right since that speech that Professor Tyndall made at Belfast.
TANNER. Yes: life is more complicated than we used to think. But what am I to do for you?
MRS WHITEFIELD. That"s just what I want to tell you. Of course you"ll marry Ann whether I like it myself or not--
TANNER. [starting] It seems to me that I shall presently be married to Ann whether I like it myself or not.
MRS WHITEFIELD. [peacefully] Oh, very likely you will: you know what she is when she has set her mind on anything. But don"t put it on me: that"s all I ask. Tavy has just let out that she"s been saying that I am making her marry you; and the poor boy is breaking his heart about it; for he is in love with her himself, though what he sees in her so wonderful, goodness knows: I don"t. It"s no use telling Tavy that Ann puts things into people"s heads by telling them that I want them when the thought of them never crossed my mind. It only sets Tavy against me. But you know better than that. So if you marry her, don"t put the blame on me.
TANNER. [emphatically] I haven"t the slightest intention of marrying her.
MRS WHITEFIELD. [slyly] She"d suit you better than Tavy. She"d meet her match in you, Jack. I"d like to see her meet her match.
TANNER. No man is a match for a woman, except with a poker and a pair of hobnailed boots. Not always even then. Anyhow, I can"t take the poker to her. I should be a mere slave.
MRS WHITEFIELD. No: she"s afraid of you. At all events, you would tell her the truth about herself. She wouldn"t be able to slip out of it as she does with me.