(Clara goes out. Mrs. Pickering enters.)
Mrs. Pickering. How do you do, Mrs. Warren?
Mrs. Warren. Oh, good afternoon. Do sit down, Mrs. Pickering.
Mrs. Pickering. Oh ... my dear Mrs. Warren, I am so glad to see you looking so well. I thought perhaps—of course there is much sickness in Northampton now. (She sits down.) Much sickness. (Pause.) I just met Mrs. Lawty and she told me that Mrs. Hallway is almost dead with rheumatism ... almost dead. In fact, I think they hardly expect her to live much longer. Of course, Mrs. Lawty didn't say so, but I implied as much from the tone of her voice.
Mrs. Warren. I heard it was nothing really serious.
Mrs. Pickering. Oh, dear, yes ... very serious. I just had it from Mrs. Lawty, who had it from ... from ... from a most reliable source. Rheumatism is such a painful death, too. Oh, dear, poor soul ... poor soul! (Mrs. Warren hands her a cup of tea.) Thank you so much.
Mrs. Warren. I believe the new Doctor Hunter is attending her.
Mrs. Pickering. Yes, isn't it too bad? Mrs. Lawty tells me he is a conversationalist, or something dreadful of that sort. But of course he was educated in London ... and, my dear, London's standard of morals is not the same as Northampton's. I was also told that he treats his wife very badly in public, my dear, in public.
Mrs. Warren. You mean——
Mrs. Pickering. My dear Mrs. Warren, I am very sorry to tell you ... but I feel that it is my duty, as wife of your pastor ... to tell you that your daughter Betty has been seen very often,—that is, at least once—walking with this Doctor Hunter. Also, my dear Mrs. Warren, she accepts presents from him ... flowers and that sort of thing.