MAGGIE. It needn't. (_She picks up a slipper on desk_ L.). See that slipper with a fancy buckle on to make it pretty? Courting's like that, my lass. All glitter and no use to nobody. (_She replaces slipper and sits at her desk_.) (HENRY HORATIO HOBSON _enters from the house. He is fifty-five, successful, coarse, florid, and a parent of the period. His hat is on. It is one of those felt hats which are half-way to tall hats in shape. He has a heavy gold chain and masonic emblems on it. His clothes are bought to wear_.) HOBSON. Maggie, I'm just going out for a quarter of an hour. (_Moves over to doors_ L.) MAGGIE. Yes, father. Don't be late for dinner. There's liver. HOBSON. It's an hour off dinner-time. (_Going_.) MAGGIE. So that, if you stay more than an hour in the Moonraker's Inn, you'll be late for it. HOBSON. "Moonraker's?" Who said--? (_Turning_.) VICKEY. If your dinner's ruined, it'll be your own fault. HOBSON. Well, I'll be eternally-- ALICE. Don't swear, father. HOBSON (_putting hat on counter_). No. I'll sit down instead. (_He moves to_ R. C. _and sits in arm-chair_ R. C. _facing them_.) Listen to me, you three. I've come to conclusions about you. And I won't have it. Do you hear that? Interfering with my goings out and comings in. The idea! I've a mind to take measures with the lot of you. MAGGIE. I expect Mr. Heeler's waiting for you in "Moonraker's," father. HOBSON. He can go on waiting. At present, I'm addressing a few remarks to the rebellious females of this house, and what I say will be listened to and heeded. I've noticed it coming on ever since your mother died. There's been a gradual increase of uppishness towards me. VICKEY. Father, you'd have more time to talk after we've closed to-night. (_She is anxious to resume her reading_.) HOBSON. I'm talking now, and you're listening. Providence has decreed that you should lack a mother's hand at the time when single girls grow bumptious and must have somebody to rule. But I'll tell you this, you'll none rule me. VICKEY. I'm sure I'm not bumptious, father. HOBSON. Yes, you are. You're pretty, but you're bumptious, and I hate bumptiousness like I hate a lawyer. ALICE. If we take trouble to feed you it's not bumptious to ask you not to be late for your food. VICKEY. Give and take, father. HOBSON. I give and you take, and it's going to end. MAGGIE. How much a week do you give us? HOBSON. That's neither here nor there. (_Rises and moves to doors_ L.) At moment I'm on uppishness, and I'm warning you your conduct towards your parent's got to change. (_Turns to the counter_.) But that's not all. That's private conduct, and now I pass to broader aspects and I speak of public conduct. I've looked upon my household as they go about the streets, and I've been disgusted. The fair name and fame of Hobson have been outraged by members of Hobson's family, and uppishness has done it. VICKEY. I don't know what you're talking about.