Mr March.  Bravo, Johnny!

Mrs March. [Drily] Let me see, which of us will have to put up with her shortcomings—­Johnny or I?

Mary.  She looks quick, Mother.

Mrs March.  Girls pick up all sorts of things in prison.  We can hardly expect her to be honest.  You don’t mind that, I suppose?

Johnny.  It’s a chance to make something decent out of her.

Mrs March.  I can’t understand this passion for vicarious heroism, Johnny.

Johnny.  Vicarious!

Mrs March.  Well, where do you come in?  You’ll make poems about the injustice of the Law.  Your father will use her in a novel.  She’ll wear Mary’s blouses, and everybody will be happy—­except Cook and me.

Mr March.  Hang it all, Joan, you might be the Great Public itself!

Mrs March.  I am—­get all the kicks and none of the ha’pence.

Johnny.  We’ll all help you.

Mrs March.  For Heaven’s sake—­no, Johnny!

Mr March.  Well, make up your mind!

Mrs March.  It was made up long ago.

Johnny. [Gloomily] The more I see of things the more disgusting they seem.  I don’t see what we’re living for.  All right.  Chuck the girl out, and let’s go rooting along with our noses in the dirt.

Mr March.  Steady, Johnny!

Johnny.  Well, Dad, there was one thing anyway we learned out there—­
When a chap was in a hole—­to pull him out, even at a risk.

Mrs March.  There are people who—­the moment you pull them out—­jump in again.

Mary.  We can’t tell till we’ve tried, Mother.

Cook.  It’s wonderful the difference good food’ll make, ma’am.

Mrs March.  Well, you’re all against me.  Have it your own way, and when you regret it—­remember me!

Mr March.  We will—­we will!  That’s settled, then.  Bring her in and tell her.  We’ll go on to the terrace.

He goes out through the window, followed by Johnny.

Mary. [Opening the door] Come in, please.

     Faith enters and stands beside Cook, close to the door.  Mary goes
     out.

Mrs March. [Matter of fact in defeat as in victory] You want to come to us, I hear.

Faith.  Yes.

Mrs March.  And you don’t know much?

Faith.  No.

Cook. [Softly] Say ma’am, dearie.

Mrs March.  Cook is going to do her best for you.  Are you going to do yours for us?

Faith. [With a quick look up] Yes—­ma’am.

Mrs March.  Can you begin at once?