MRS. CULVER. D'you mean in having twins? It was more than brave of her; it was beautiful—both boys, too.
HILDEGARDE ( innocently ). Budgeting for a long war.
MRS. CULVER ( affectionately ). My dear girl! Come here, darling, you haven't changed. Excuse me, Mr. Tranto.
HILDEGARDE ( approaching ). I've been so busy. And I thought nobody was coming.
MRS. CULVER. Is your father nobody? ( stroking and patting Hildegarde's dress into order ). What have you been so busy on?
HILDEGARDE. Article for The Echo . (Tranto, who has been holding the MS., indicates it .)
MRS. CULVER. I do wish you would let me see those cookery articles of yours before they're printed.
TRANTO ( putting MS. in his pocket ). I'm afraid that's quite against the rules. You see, in Fleet Street—
MRS. CULVER ( very pleasantly ). As you please. I don't pretend to be intellectual. But I confess I'm just a wee bit disappointed in Hildegarde's cookery articles. I'm a great believer in good cookery. I put it next to the Christian religion—and far in front of mere cleanliness. I've just been trying to read Professor Metchnikoff's wonderful book on 'The Nature of Man.' It
only confirms me in my lifelong belief that until the nature of man is completely altered good cooking is the chief thing that women ought to understand. Now I taught Hildegarde some cookery myself. She was not what I should call a brilliant pupil, but she did grasp the great eternal principles. And yet I find her writing ( with charm and benevolence ) stuff like her last article—'The Everlasting Boiled Potato,' I think she called it. Hildegarde, it was really very naughty of you to say what you said in that article. ( Drawing down Hildegarde's head and kissing her .)