Part 3 (2/2)

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._)

<script>