OCTAVIUS. No, no. Who told you about Violet?
MRS WHITEFIELD. [restoring the head to its owner] I met Roebuck and that awful old Irishman. Are you sure you're not ill? What's the matter?
OCTAVIUS. [affectionately] It's nothing--only a man's broken heart. Doesn't that sound ridiculous?
MRS WHITEFIELD. But what is it all about? Has Ann been doing anything to you?
OCTAVIUS. It's not Ann's fault. And don't think for a moment that I blame you.
MRS WHITEFIELD. [startled] For what?
OCTAVIUS. [pressing her hand consolingly] For nothing. I said I didn't blame you.
MRS WHITEFIELD. But I haven't done anything. What's the matter?
OCTAVIUS. [smiling sadly] Can't you guess? I daresay you are right to prefer Jack to me as a husband for Ann; but I love Ann; and it hurts rather. [He rises and moves away from her towards the middle of the lawn].
MRS WHITEFIELD. [following him hastily] Does Ann say that I want her to marry Jack?
OCTAVIUS. Yes: she has told me.
MRS WHITEFIELD. [thoughtfully] Then I'm very sorry for you, Tavy.
It's only her way of saying SHE wants to marry Jack. Little she cares what I say or what I want!
OCTAVIUS. But she would not say it unless she believed it. Surely you don't suspect Ann of--of DECEIT!!
MRS WHITEFIELD. Well, never mind, Tavy. I don't know which is best for a young man: to know too little, like you, or too much, like Jack.
Tanner returns.
TANNER. Well, I've disposed of old Malone. I've introduced him to Mendoza, Limited; and left the two brigands together to talk it out. Hullo, Tavy! anything wrong?
OCTAVIUS. I must go wash my face, I see. [To Mrs Whitefield] Tell him what you wish. [To Tanner] You may take it from me, Jack, that Ann approves of it.
TANNER. [puzzled by his manner] Approves of what?
OCTAVIUS. Of what Mrs Whitefield wishes. [He goes his way with sad dignity to the villa].
TANNER. [to Mrs Whitefield] This is very mysterious. What is it you wish? It shall be done, whatever it is.
MRS WHITEFIELD. [with snivelling gratitude] Thank you, Jack. [She sits down. Tanner brings the other chair from the table and sits close to her with his elbows on his knees, giving her his whole attention]. I don't know why it is that other people's children are so nice to me, and that my own have so little consideration for me. It's no wonder I don't seem able to care for Ann and Rhoda as I do for you and Tavy and Violet. It's a very queer world. It used to be so straightforward and simple; and now nobody seems to think and feel as they ought. Nothing has been right since that speech that Professor Tyndall made at Belfast.