Austin. Why's it a _mésalliance_? Edmund. Good heavens, man--a footballer! Austin. There spoke the acclimatized Londoner. Black-ton won't be scandalized like Sevenoaks. Edmund. Oh, hang your smug imitation democracy! You don't believe that, Austin. Austin. I always believe in the inevitable. Edmund. It's not inevitable, It's incredible. Now, I'll tell you what I'll do, Austin. I'll take Elsie back with me to London and cure her of this infatuation with a jolly good round of the theatres and the shops. Austin. My dear fellow! The theatres where she'll see nothing but romantic love stories and the shops where she'll go under your nose to buy her trousseau. Try it, Edmund. You'll be astonished at the result. Edmund. It seems my _métier_ to be astonished to-day. First I assist at an attempted bribery, and now it seems I'm to see my niece marry the incorruptible footballer. Austin. You're a bachelor. The modern child surprises you. As a father, I have ceased to be surprised. Edmund. As a father your idea of your duty is to stand idle while your daughter makes a sentimental mess of her life. I begin to thank my stars I'm a bachelor. At least I'm not henpecked by a rebellious family. Austin. There's no rebellion about it, Edmund. I date from the sixties, they from the nineties, and we rub along quite peacefully in mutual toleration of the different attitudes. Edmund. Tolerating the difference means that you give in to them every time. Austin. Not quite. Edmund. Then you won't give in to Elsie? Austin. I shall be loyal to my generation, Edmund. She will be loyal to hers,--and youth will fight for her. Edmund. That means you'll put up a protest for form's sake and give in gracefully when you think you've said enough to save your face. Austin. No. Not if I can help it. Edmund. Austin, you must help it. The thing's unthinkable. I'll help you to help it. Austin. I shall be glad of any assistance you can give me. (_Austin turns a little wistfully to window._) Edmund. You think I can't give much. Austin. Hullo! The game's stopped. I hadn't heard the whistle go. Edmund. I fancy I did a minute ago, without knowing its significance. What does it mean? Austin. Probably an accident. Heaven help us if it's one of our men! (_Enter Wells and Jack, who is in green-and-white football costume, soiled on the left side, with his left arm in an emergency sling. Elsie follows._) Elsie (_anxiously_). Father, Jack's broken his arm. Wells. Nothing very serious, Mr. Whitworth. I think it's only a simple fracture. Elsie. Only! Wells (_taking Jack across_). Come along in here, Metherell. I'll have it set before you know where you are. Austin (_impulsively_). Metherell. Jack (_as Wells opens door_). Accidents will happen, Mr. Whitworth. (_Exit Wells with him, closing door._) Elsie. Doctors are callous beasts. (_She opens door rand goes out with determination after them._) Austin (_scoffing_). Accident! Edmund. Why not? Don't they happen?