MRS. BEN DIXON.
(Growing irritable.) I shall do something that will wound yours, Ben, in a minute, if you've got any. There are more ways of offering people help than by slapping them in the face with it. If the thing's done in the right spirit they won't refuse it. I'll see to that.
MR. BEN DIXON.
But, my dear, why should we interfere at all? Dear Mr. Cherry is only too anxious to help them. Why should we deprive that worthy man of the exquisite pleasure of assisting them? My dear, we have no right to —it's his first call—I mean his privilege——
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Ben, you're either a fool or you're pretending to be one. What do you think induced that girl to accept him?
MR. BEN DIXON.
The usual thing, I suppose, my dear. Love that comes to——
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Fiddlesticks! Girls of nineteen don't marry men of fifty-five for love.