JOHN. Now, now, Judge, monogamy is just as extinct as knee-breeches. The new woman has a new idea, and the new idea is--well, it's just the opposite of the old Mormon one. Their idea is one man, ten wives and a hundred children. Our idea is one woman, a hundred husbands and one child. PHILIP. Sir, this is polyandry. JOHN. Polyandry? A hundred to one it's polyandry; and that's it, Judge! Uncle Sam has established consecutive polyandry,--but there's got to be an interval between husbands! The fact is, Judge, the modern American marriage is like a wire fence. The woman's the wire--the posts are the husbands. [_He indicates himself, and then_ SIR WILFRID _and_ PHILIP.] One--two--three! And if you cast your eye over the future you can count them, post after post, up hill, down dale, all the way to Dakota! PHILIP. All very amusing, sir, but the fact remains-- JOHN. [_Going to_ PHILIP _who at once moves away._] Now, now, Judge, I like you. But you're asleep; you're living in the dark ages. You want to call up Central. "Hello, Central! Give me the present time, 1906, New York!" SIR WILFRID. Of course you do, and--there you are! PHILIP. [_Heavily._] There I am not, sir! And-- [_To_ JOHN.] as for Mr. Karslake's ill-timed jocosity,--sir, in the future-- SIR WILFRID. Oh, hang the future! PHILIP. I begin to hope, Sir Wilfrid, that in the future I shall have the pleasure of hanging you! [_To_ JOHN.] And as to you, sir, your insensate idea of giving away your own--your former--my--your--oh! Good Lord! This is a nightmare! [_He turns to go in despair._ MATTHEW, _coming in, meets him, and stops him at the door._ MATTHEW. [_To_ PHILIP.] My dear brother, Aunt Sarah Heneage refuses to give Mrs. Karslake away, unless you yourself,--eh-- PHILIP. [_As he goes out._] No more! I'll attend to the matter! [_The_ CHOIR BOYS _are heard practising in the next room._ MATTHEW. [_Mopping his brow._] How do you both do? My aunt has made me very warm. [_Ringing the bell._] You hear our choir practising--sweet angel boys! H'm! H'm! Some of the family will not be present. I am very fond of you, Mr. Karslake, and I think it admirably Christian of you to have waived your--eh--your--eh--that is, now that I look at it more narrowly, let me say, that in the excitement of pleasurable anticipation, I forgot, Karslake, that your presence might occasion remark-- [THOMAS _responds to his ring._] Thomas! I left, in the hall, a small hand-bag or satchel containing my surplice. THOMAS. Yes, sir. Ahem! MATTHEW. You must really find the hand-bag at once. [THOMAS _turns to go, when he stops startled._ THOMAS. Yes, sir. [_Announcing in consternation._] Mrs. Vida Phillimore. [VIDA PHILLIMORE, _in full evening dress, steps gently up to_ MATTHEW.