Tom. Because he married the girl he wanted; instead of a girl he didn’t want; and his son’s going to do the same. (placing his arm round her and taking her down to L.C.)
Kate. Ah, Mr. Verinder! Marriage is a serious responsibility. (goes to C., basket in hand)
Tom. It’s serious when you marry the wrong person, but I’m going to marry the right one.
Kate. Yes, but who is the right one?
Phil. Surely, the right one is the one we love. (sits, opening letters, in arm-chair R. of table)
Tom. (advances to C.) You think so, Mr. Selwyn? (turns to Mildred, who sits on R. arm of sofa, searches in her work bag and finds an apple which he eats)
Kate. (sits R.C.) Because you have been fortunate in your choice, but how many have made a mistake! Even love matches are often unfortunate. Love has a habit of being so one-sided. (filling a bowl on table, with flowers)
Phil. I haven’t found it so! and mine was a love match, if ever there was one. I met my wife quite casually at Brighton—fell in love, proposed, was accepted and married, all within a month.
Kate. You married in haste.
Phil. And by all the laws of cynical philosophy, I ought to have repented at leisure. (Beatrice Selwyn enters, L. down staircase unobserved, and crosses slowly to back of table R.C.) But I haven’t repented. To the confusion of the philosophers, I’m the happiest husband and have the best wife in the world.