EMILY. [With a quiet assurance.] I have never been so well and contented.
OLLIVANT. [Tenderly.] I know better, Emily; can't I see you're getting thinner and older? [Stopping her protests.] Now, let me manage this, dear. It's a girl's place to stay at home. You know my feelings about that. Suppose anything should happen to your mother, what would I do?
MARY. So it's not mother alone you are thinking of?
OLLIVANT. [Tersely.] I'm thinking of your place at home—doing a woman's work. I'm not proud of having my daughter off earning her own living as though I couldn't support her.
EMILY. George!
MARY. I thought it was only because I was on the stage.
OLLIVANT. Well, it's not the most heavenly place, is it? A lot of narrow-minded fools here in town thought I was crazy to let you go; I knew how they felt; I grinned and bore it. You were my daughter and I loved you, and I didn't want them to think any less of you by their finding out you were leaving against my wish.
MARY. [Slowly, with comprehension.] That's what hurt you.
OLLIVANT. Well, I blamed myself a bit for taking you to plays and liking them myself.
MARY. People here will soon forget about me and merely be sorry for you.