SHEILA. I want to do something for that girl. I want to be different to her. I'm frightened, Ada. I'm frightened of having a child. ADA. What's she got to do with it? SHEILA. You must have your conscience clear when you're going to have a child. ADA. I daresay--only-- SHEILA. We've not been very nice to her, now, have we? ADA. Well, how could we be? SHEILA. Yes, we couldn't be expected to receive her with open arms, could we? ADA. Of course not. SHEILA. I suppose she is to blame. ADA. Why, of course she is. She's not as bad as he is, though. SHEILA. I don't understand things a bit. I don't know right from wrong. Only I ought to have been more kind. It's stupid, Ada, but I'm afraid of its bringing me bad luck. ADA. What's made you so superstitious? SHEILA. Perhaps you'll understand better some day. Well, I'm going to ask her to tea. ADA. Oh! That's all right. SHEILA. Will you come, too? ADA. I don't mind. Yes. SHEILA. I think Leonard wants whipping. ADA. It was rather decent of Edgar to go to the funeral. SHEILA. It was scoring against Leonard, too. ADA. Well, that's not very nice to your husband. SHEILA. Oh! I wish I didn't keep saying things and thinking things against him. He's my child's father; he's not only my husband. ADA. Who's coming? [_The maid shows in MARY who stands near the door for a moment. SHEILA goes to her rapidly and kisses her. MARY is a little startled and discomposed by this._] MARY. [_To ADA._] Is your mother in? ADA. [_Rather graciously._] How d'y do, Mary? [_They shake hands._] Yes, she's somewhere about. Sit down, won't you? Er--won't you take your things off? MARY. No, thank you. I can't stay long. ADA. Here's mother, I think. [_MRS. TIMBRELL enters. She and MARY greet one another affectionately._] MRS. TIMBRELL. Has he come? MARY. He hadn't when I left. He's coming. I got a telegram. MRS. TIMBRELL. What time does he arrive? MARY. He should be there now. MRS. TIMBRELL. And you are out? Well, perhaps it's a good idea. Mary, you mustn't judge him by other people. He's queer and different. MARY. What must I judge him by? MRS. TIMBRELL. Well, I think you'd better not judge him at all. MARY. No. It's too late for that now. I've just come to say good-bye. MRS. TIMBRELL. Good-bye? SHEILA. Where are you going? [_TIMBRELL enters._] TIMBRELL. Ah! Mary. [_They shake hands._] Glad to see you. You've had a trying time. Where's Leonard? Home yet? MARY. He's coming.