Oh, yes. I want to have a little talk with you, Freddie. [_She takes one of the letters and reads._] “I am directed by Mrs. Worthley to congratulate you on the recent addition to your family, but to express her regret that she cannot accede to your request.” How brutal you are, Freddie! Surely Mrs. Murphy is an old friend. FREDDIE. I looked her out in my note-book. Six months ago we sent her fifteen pounds because she had nine children. Now she has eleven. MRS. DOT. And yet they complain that the birth-rate is falling. I think we’d better send her five pounds. FREDDIE. You really can’t encourage a woman who has twins twice a year, when her husband is not only bed-ridden but a hopeless lunatic. MRS. DOT. Perhaps she _is_ a little prolific. FREDDIE. Here is my answer to Mrs. MacTavish, who wants help to bury a husband. MRS. DOT. Poor thing! You’d better send her ten pounds. FREDDIE. I’ve answered: “Madam, I regret to see that this is the third time you have lost your husband within two years. The mortality among the unhappy gentlemen on whom you bestow your hand is so great that I can only recommend you in future to remain a widow. Yours faithfully, Frederick Perkins.” MRS. DOT. [_Reading a letter which he hands to her._] “I am pleased to hear that the wooden leg for which Mrs. Worthley paid for last year has proved satisfactory, but I cannot recommend her to provide you with another. To lose one leg in a railway accident is a misfortune, but to lose a second in a colliery explosion points to carelessness.” That’s not original, Freddie. FREDDIE. I’m so hard up, I can only afford to make other people’s jokes. MRS. DOT. [_With a shrewd look at him._] Freddie, I’ve been exceedingly pleased with your behaviour during the last week. I’ve watched you carefully, and I’m glad to see that you’ve done all that was possible to destroy poor Nellie’s affection for you. FREDDIE. [_Gravely._] I’ve tried to do my duty. MRS. DOT. I know. And in recognition of this I want you to accept a little present. Where is my cheque-book? FREDDIE. [_Producing it promptly._] Oh, no, really, I shouldn’t like you to do anything of the sort. [_Putting it in front of her, and giving her a pen._] I feel that I’m amply paid for all that I do for you. I simply can’t accept anything more. MRS. DOT. I was afraid you would object. [_She writes, and he watches her carefully._ FREDDIE. Five hundred pounds. Oh, you are a ripper! But why on earth do you give me that? MRS. DOT. It may be useful to you. Suppose you had an idea of getting married, for instance, it would be very convenient to have a sum like that in your pocket. FREDDIE. But I’m not thinking of getting married. MRS. DOT. Aren’t you? I suppose you know that when you do, I’m proposing to give you two thousand a year. FREDDIE. I say, that’s awfully good of you.