JOHN.  It isn’t, mater.  It’s here. (Pulls the letter out of his pocket.)

MRS. CULVER.  John!  What—­

JOHN.  Now, now, mater!  Keep calm.  This is really your own doing.  Pater wanted to go to the post himself, but it was raining a bit, and you’re always in such a fidget about his getting his feet wet you wouldn’t let him go, and so I went instead.

HILDEGARDE.  Yes, mummy darling, you must acknowledge that you were putting temptation in Johnnie’s way.

JOHN.  Soon as I got outside, I said to myself:  ’I think the pater ought to have a night to think over this affair.  It’s very important.  And he can easily send round an answer by hand in the morning.’  So I didn’t post the letter.  I should have told you earlier, but you weren’t down for breakfast, and I had to go out afterwards on urgent private business.

MRS. CULVER.  But—­but—­(Controlling herself, grieved, but kind.) Your father will be terribly angry.  I daren’t face him.

JOHN (only half-suppressing his amusement at the last remark).  Don’t let that worry you.  I’ll face him.  He’ll be delighted.  He’ll write another letter, and quite a different one.

MRS. CULVER (getting firmer).  But don’t I tell you, my dearest boy, that the affair is settled, quite settled?

JOHN.  It isn’t settled so long as I’ve got this letter, anyway.

HILDEGARDE.  Of course it isn’t settled.  Mother darling, we simply must look the facts in the face.  Fact one, the letter is here.  Fact two, the whole family is most frightfully upset.  Dad’s ill—­

MRS. CULVER.  That was the lobster.

JOHN.  It wasn’t.

MRS. CULVER.  Yes, dear.  Lobster always upsets him.

JOHN.  It didn’t this time.

MRS. CULVER.  How do you know?

JOHN.  I know, because I ate all his lobster.  He shoved it over to me. 
You couldn’t see for the fruit-bowl.

HILDEGARDE.  No, mamma sweetest.  It’s this baronetcy business that’s knocked poor papa over.  And it’s knocked over Johnnie and me too.  I’m perfectly, perfectly sure you acted for the best, but don’t you think you persuaded father against his judgment?  Not to speak of our judgment!

MRS. CULVER.  I’ve only one thought—­

HILDEGARDE (caressing and kissing her mother).  I know!  I know!  Father’s happiness.  Our happiness.  Mamma, please don’t imagine for a single instant that we don’t realise that.  You’re the most delicious darling of an old mater—­

MRS. CULVER (slightly suspicious).  Hildegarde, you’re quite a different girl to-day.

HILDEGARDE (nods).  I’ve aged in a single night.  I’ve become ever so serious.  This baronetcy business has shown me that I’ve got convictions—­and deep convictions.  I admit I’m a different girl to-day.  But then everything’s different to-day.  The whole house is different.  Johnnie’s different.  Papa’s missed going to the office for the first time in eight months. (Very sweetly.) Surely you must see, mamma, that something ought to be done, and that you alone can do it.