LADY BRACKNELL. I am pleased to hear it. I do not approve of anything that tampers with natural ignorance. Ignorance is like a delicate exotic fruit; touch it and the bloom is gone. The whole theory of modern education is radically unsound. Fortunately in England, at any rate, education produces no effect whatsoever. If it did, it would prove a serious danger to the upper classes, and probably lead to acts of violence in Grosvenor Square. What is your income? JACK. Between seven and eight thousand a year. LADY BRACKNELL. [Makes a note in her book.] In land, or in investments? JACK. In investments, chiefly. LADY BRACKNELL. That is satisfactory. What between the duties expected of one during one’s lifetime, and the duties exacted from one after one’s death, land has ceased to be either a profit or a pleasure. It gives one position, and prevents one from keeping it up. That’s all that can be said about land. JACK. I have a country house with some land, of course, attached to it, about fifteen hundred acres, I believe; but I don’t depend on that for my real income. In fact, as far as I can make out, the poachers are the only people who make anything out of it. LADY BRACKNELL. A country house! How many bedrooms? Well, that point can be cleared up afterwards. You have a town house, I hope? A girl with a simple, unspoiled nature, like Gwendolen, could hardly be expected to reside in the country. JACK. Well, I own a house in Belgrave Square, but it is let by the year to Lady Bloxham. Of course, I can get it back whenever I like, at six months’ notice. LADY BRACKNELL. Lady Bloxham? I don’t know her. JACK. Oh, she goes about very little. She is a lady considerably advanced in years. LADY BRACKNELL. Ah, nowadays that is no guarantee of respectability of character. What number in Belgrave Square? JACK. 149. LADY BRACKNELL. [Shaking her head.] The unfashionable side. I thought there was something. However, that could easily be altered. JACK. Do you mean the fashion, or the side? LADY BRACKNELL. [Sternly.] Both, if necessary, I presume. What are your politics? JACK. Well, I am afraid I really have none. I am a Liberal Unionist. LADY BRACKNELL. Oh, they count as Tories. They dine with us. Or come in the evening, at any rate. Now to minor matters. Are your parents living? JACK. I have lost both my parents. LADY BRACKNELL. To lose one parent, Mr. Worthing, may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness. Who was your father? He was evidently a man of some wealth. Was he born in what the Radical papers call the purple of commerce, or did he rise from the ranks of the aristocracy? JACK. I am afraid I really don’t know. The fact is, Lady Bracknell, I said I had lost my parents. It would be nearer the truth to say that my parents seem to have lost me . . . I don’t actually know who I am by birth. I was . . . well, I was found. LADY BRACKNELL. Found!