MRS. CULVER. I've only one thought—
HILDEGARDE ( caressing and kissing her mother ). I know! I know! Father's happiness. Our happiness. Mamma, please don't imagine for a single instant that we don't realise that. You're the most delicious darling of an old mater—
MRS. CULVER ( slightly suspicious ). Hildegarde, you're quite a different girl to-day.
HILDEGARDE ( nods ). I've aged in a single night. I've become ever so serious. This baronetcy business has shown me that I've got convictions—and deep convictions. I admit I'm a different girl to-day. But then everything's different to-day. The whole house is different. Johnnie's different. Papa's missed going to the office for the first time in eight months. ( Very sweetly .) Surely you must see, mamma, that something ought to be done, and that you alone can do it.
MRS. CULVER. What? What ought I to do?
HILDEGARDE. Go upstairs and tell dad you've changed your mind about the title, and advise him to write off instantly and refuse it. You know you always twist him round your little finger.
MRS. CULVER ( looking at her little finger ). I shouldn't dream of trying to influence your father once he had decided. And he has decided.
HILDEGARDE ( sweetly ). Mamma, you're most tremendously clever—far cleverer than any of us—but I'm not sure if you understand the attitude of the modern girl towards things that affect her convictions.
MRS. CULVER ( sweetly ). Are you the modern girl.
HILDEGARDE. Yes.