Nine of ’em, sir—leastways, I think as ’ow nine of ’em is female. (_He tots them off on his fingers._) H’Annie, and H’Effel, ’Enrietta, Louisa, Maggie, Victoria ... H’Alice.... H’Edith.... an’—an’ Milly. Yessir—nine. The rest is boys. DEAN. Nine! Dear me! What a terrible responsibility. Their upbringing must have been very trying. Nine! BALDWIN. Yessir. They do give a bit more worry than boys. But Mrs. Baldwin’s a rare ’and at tacklin’ ’er own sects. DEAN. Oh, really? And what measures did she take when they were fractious and disobedient? BALDWIN. She ’anded ’em over to me, sir. DEAN. And what did you do? BALDWIN. I thrashed ’em. DEAN. Did you really! That never dawned on me as a practical measure.... I wonder—I wonder whether all girls would derive benefit from—er—occasional chastisement. BALDWIN. You take my word for it, sir. All my girls ’ave gorne straight and married respec’able. DEAN. Gone straight and married respectably! All nine of them!... And do you put down this happy result to your special treatment? BALDWIN. Yessir. DEAN. Most interesting! Most interesting! I must think it over—I must indeed.... (_JOHN enters._) JOHN. Mrs. O’Farrel has called, sir. DEAN. Oh.... Ask her out here, John. JOHN. Very good, sir. (_He goes out._) (_The DEAN takes up the letters and glances through them. A pause. He looks up and sees BALDWIN standing patiently watching him._) DEAN. Ah, Baldwin—yes.... What was I saying? BALDWIN. You said as you’d think it over, sir. DEAN. Oh, to be sure! Physical chastisement for girls. Quite so. (_Enter JOHN from the house followed by MRS. O’FARREL._) JOHN. Mrs. O’Farrel. (_He goes out._) DEAN. (_Rising with outstretched hands._) My dear Eileen! This is a most unexpected pleasure! MRS. O’FARREL. Nonsense. You guessed I should turn up. DEAN. Well, I may have hoped it. MRS. O’FARREL. Good morning, Baldwin. BALDWIN. Mornin’, ma’am. DEAN. Baldwin has been giving me sage advice on the up-bringing of girls. MRS. O’FARREL. You need it. DEAN. He’s a great advocate of—er—corporal punishment. MRS. O’FARREL. Oh!... That’s all very well when they’re in short frocks, Baldwin. But afterwards, I don’t exactly see how—— DEAN. Quite so.... BALDWIN. I thrashed Milly when she was turned twenty, mum. MRS. O’FARREL. Upon my word! What on earth had the girl done? BALDWIN. Mrs. Baldwin found ’er sittin ’on Constable ’Iggins’ knee—’e was a married man, as you may remember, sir, and ’e—— (_MRS. O’FARREL bursts out laughing._) DEAN. (_Hastily._) Yes, yes, yes, Baldwin.... Neither of these notes requires an answer, thank you. Good morning. BALDWIN. Mornin’, sir. Mornin’, ma’am. (_He goes out slowly, inadvertently leaving his books on the ground. MRS. O’FARREL is still amused._) DEAN. Well? MRS. O’FARREL. Well?... DEAN.