s, and you can be very nice to
them; but don't have them too much about. Their manners are terribly old-
fashioned, and they've no notion how to dress, and those sort of people
let down the tone of a house.

MARION. I'm not likely to have many "dear sweet girls" on my visiting
list. [With a laugh.] There will hardly be enough in common to make the
company desired, on either side.

MRS. TRAVERS. Well, I only want you to be careful, my dear. So much
depends on how you begin, and with prudence there's really no reason why
you shouldn't do very well. I suppose there's no doubt about Harry's
income. He won't object to a few inquiries?

MARION. I think you may trust me to see to that, mamma. It would be a
bad bargain for me, if even the cash were not certain.

MR. TRAVERS [jumping up]. Oh, I do wish you women wouldn't discuss the
matter in that horribly business-like way. One would think the girl was
selling herself.

MRS. TRAVERS. Oh, don't be foolish, James. One must look at the
practical side of these things. Marriage is a matter of sentiment to a
man--very proper that it should be. A woman has to remember that she's
fixing her position for life.

MARION. You see, papa dear, it's her one venture. If she doesn't sell
herself to advantage then, she doesn't get another opportunity--very
easily.

MR. TRAVERS. Umph! When I was a young man, girls talked more about love
and less about income.

MARION. Perhaps they had not our educational advantages.

[DAN enters from the garden. He is a man of a little over forty, his
linen somewhat frayed about the edges.]

MRS. TRAVERS. Ah! We were just wondering where all you people had got
to.

DAN. We've been out sailing. I've been sent up to fetch you. It's
delightful on the river. The moon is just rising.

MRS. TRAVERS. But it's so cold.

MR. TRAVERS. Oh, never mind the cold. It's many a long year since you
and I looked at the moon together. It will do us good.

MRS. TRAVERS. Ah, dear. Boys will be boys. Give me my wrap then.

[DAN places it about her. They move towards the window, where they stand
talking. MARION has slipped out and returns with her father's cap. He
takes her face between his hands and looks at her.]

MR. TRAVERS. Do you really care for Harry, Marion?

MARION. As much as one can care for a man with five thousand a year.
Perhaps he will make it ten one day--then I shall care for him twice as
much. [Laughs.]