_Curphew (sadly)._ It's only what I expected, and yet--tell me this--is it entirely because of--of what you saw at the Eldorado last Saturday? _Althea._ Ah, you _know_, then! but what does it matter now? I was mistaken--isn't that enough? _Curph._ Don't judge me by what you saw of WALTER WILDFIRE. I can do better things than that. I can make you forget _him_--forget that he ever existed, if only you will trust me! _Alth. (indignantly)._ Do you really suppose that he--that I--oh, it's _too_ insulting! And you will do no good by disparaging _him_. The man who could write those songs, and sing them like that---- _Curph. (wincing)._ Don't! I know how they must have struck you. I would have prepared you, if I could. I _did_ try--that afternoon at the station, but I was interrupted. And now it's too late, and the harm's done. But at least you will never see WALTER WILDFIRE again! _Alth. (exasperated)._ Have I ever said that I _wanted_ to? Why will you persist in talking as if----? Once for all, I _can't_ care for you; whatever I may have thought once, I know now that I can have no sympathy with the sort of life you lead; the pleasures you are content with would not satisfy me; I should want more than you could ever give me. We should have nothing in common--nothing----There, _now_ do you understand? _Curph._ Yes, I think I do. I suppose it's natural, and yet--don't think too hardly of me if you can help it. I might have chosen a higher walk than I did, but at least I've kept out of the mire, and now at last I see my way to----But that wouldn't interest you. There, I had better say good-bye: you won't refuse to give me your hand at parting, will you? [_As he takes her hand_, Mrs. TOOVEY _enters with_ CHARLES, _and stands transfixed._ _Mrs. Toovey._ ALTHEA, don't tell me I'm too late! You have not accepted that man? _Curph._ (_releasing_ ALTHEA'S _hand_). On the contrary, I have just had my dismissal, Mrs. TOOVEY; we were merely saying good-bye. _Mrs. Toov._ Thank Heaven! But I knew I could trust _my_ daughter to detect instinctively the designing serpent in wolf's clothing--(_correcting herself angrily_)--the sheep in dove's plumage, I _should_ say. _Charles (sotto voce)._ Similes are cheap to-day! _Mrs. Toov. (more angrily still)._ Well, _I_ know what I mean, and so does he! (Mr. TOOVEY _enters_.) And how a person with Mr. CURPHEW'S antecedents could ever have the face to thrust himself into such a household as this---- _Mr. Toov. (coming forward)._ CORNELIA, my love! Such language to our dear young friend! Surely, surely, there must be some sad mistake! _Mrs. Toov._ There has been indeed, Pa, and so you will say when you hear who and what he really is! _Curph._ Mr. TOOVEY has been quite aware of it for the last week, and was kind enough to say he saw no insuperable objection. _Mrs. Toov._ Pa, is this true? You knew who Mr. CURPHEW was and never told me!