JOHN. I read in some paper about the Prime Minister having only a _political_ chill. So I thought perhaps the pater--under the circs-- HILDEGARDE (_shaking her head_). You can't have political dyspepsia. Can't fake the symptoms. Who is to begin this affair, you or me? JOHN. Depends. What line are you going on with her? HILDEGARDE. I'm going to treat her exactly as she treats me. I've just thought of it. Only I shan't lose my temper. JOHN. Sugarsticks? HILDEGARDE. Yes. JOHN. You'll never be able to keep it up. HILDEGARDE. O yes I shall. Somehow I feel much more mature than I did yesterday. JOHN. More mature? Stay me with flagons! I was always mature. If you knew what rot I think school is...! Well, anyway, you can begin. HILDEGARDE. You're very polite to-day, Johnnie. JOHN. Don't mention it. My argument 'll be the best, and I want to keep it for the end, that's all. HILDEGARDE. Thanks. But I bet you we shall both fail. JOHN. Well, if we do, I've still got something else waiting for her ladyship. A regular startler, my child. HILDEGARDE. What is it? _Enter_ Mrs. Culver, _back_. JOHN (_to_ Hildegarde, _as_ Mrs. Culver _enters_). Wait and see. MRS. CULVER (_cheerful and affectionate, to_ John). So you've come in. (_To_ Hildegarde.) You _are_ back early to-day! Well, my darlings, what do you want me for? HILDEGARDE (_imitating her mothers manner_). Well, mamma darling, we hate bothering you. We know you've got quite enough worries, without having any more. But it's about this baronetcy business. (Mrs. Culver _starts_.) Do be an angel and listen to us. MRS. CULVER (_with admirable self-control_). Of course, my pet. But you know the matter is quite, quite settled. Your father and I settled it together last night, and the letter of acceptance is in the hands of the Government by this time. JOHN. It isn't, mater. It's here. (_Pulls the letter out of his pocket_.) MRS. CULVER. John! What-- JOHN. Now, now, mater! Keep calm. This is really your own doing. Pater wanted to go to the post himself, but it was raining a bit, and you're always in such a fidget about his getting his feet wet you wouldn't let him go, and so I went instead. HILDEGARDE. Yes, mummy darling, you must acknowledge that you were putting temptation in Johnnie's way. JOHN. Soon as I got outside, I said to myself: 'I think the pater ought to have a night to think over this affair. It's very important. And he can easily send round an answer by hand in the morning.' So I didn't post the letter. I should have told you earlier, but you weren't down for breakfast, and I had to go out afterwards on urgent private business. MRS. CULVER. But--but--(_Controlling herself, grieved, but kind_.) Your father will be terribly angry. I daren't face him. JOHN (_only half-suppressing his amusement at the last remark_). Don't let that worry you. I'll face him. He'll be delighted. He'll write another letter, and quite a different one.