Now you're being _too_ French, darling.
DELIA. Why, do you still think father may be alive?
BELINDA. Why not? It's only eighteen years since he left us, and he was quite a young man then.
DELIA. Yes, but surely you'd have heard from him in all those years, if he'd been alive?
BELINDA. Well, he hasn't heard from _me, _and I'm still alive.
DELIA (looking earnestly at her mother). I shall never understand it.
BELINDA. Understand what?
DELIA. Were you as heavenly when you were young as you are now?
BELINDA (rapturously). Oh, I was sweet!
DELIA. And yet he left you after only six months.
BELINDA (rather crossly). I wish you wouldn't keep on saying he left me. I left him too.
DELIA. Why?
BELINDA (smiling to herself). Well, you see, he was quite certain he knew how to manage women, and I was quite certain I knew how to manage men. (Thoughtfully.) If only one of us had been certain, it would have been all right.
DELIA (seriously). What really happened, mummy? I'm grown up now, so I think you ought to tell me.
BELINDA (thoughtfully). That was about all, you know ... except for his beard.
DELIA. Had he a beard? How funny!
BELINDA. Yes, dear, it was; but he never would see it. He took it quite seriously.
DELIA. And did you say dramatically, "If you really loved me, you'd take it off"?
BELINDA (apologetically). I'm afraid I did, darling.
DELIA. And what did _he_ say?
BELINDA. He said--_very_ rudely--that, if I loved _him_, I'd do my hair in a different way.
DELIA. How ridiculous!
BELINDA (touching her hair). Of course, I didn't do it like this then. (With a sigh.) I suppose we never ought to have married, really.
DELIA. Why did you?
BELINDA. Mother rather wanted it. (Solemnly.) Delia, never get married because your mother--Oh, I forgot; _I'm_ your mother.
DELIA. And I don't want a better one. ... And so you left each other?
BELINDA. Yes.
DELIA. But, darling, didn't you tell him there was going to be a Me?
BELINDA. Oh no!
DELIA. I wonder why not?
BELINDA. Well, you see, if I had, he might have wanted to stay.
DELIA. But--
BELINDA (hurt). If he didn't want to stay for _me_, I didn't want him to stay for _you_. (Penitently.) Forgive me, darling, but I didn't know you very well then. (DELIA jumps off the table and hugs her mother impetuously.) We've been very happy together, haven't we?
DELIA (going back to her seat). I should think we have.
BELINDA. I don't want to deny you anything, and, of course, if you'd like a stepfather (looking down modestly) or two--
DELIA. Oh, you _have_ been enjoying yourself.
BELINDA. Only you see how awkward it would be if Jack turned up in the middle of the wedding, like--like Eugene Aram.
DELIA. Enoch Arden, darling.
BELINDA. It's very confusing their having the same initials. Perhaps I'd better call them both E. A. in future and then I shall be safe. Well, anyhow it would be awkward, darling, wouldn't it? Not that I should know him from Adam after all these years--except for a mole on his left arm.
DELIA. Perhaps Adam had a mole.
BELINDA. No, darling; you're thinking of Noah. He had two.
DELIA (thoughtfully). I wonder what would happen if you met somebody whom you really did fall in love with?
BELINDA (reproachfully). Now you're being serious, and it's April.
DELIA. Aren't these two--the present two--serious?
BELINDA. Oh no! They think they are, but they aren't a bit, really. Besides, I'm doing them such a lot of good. I'm sure they'd hate to marry me, but they love to think they're in love with me, and--_I_ love it, and--and _they_ love it, and--and we _all_ love it.
DELIA. You really are the biggest, darlingest baby who ever lived. (Kisses her.) Do say I shan't spoil your lovely times.
BELINDA (surprised). Spoil them? Why, you'll make them more lovely than ever.
DELIA. Well, but do they know you have a grown-up daughter?
BELINDA (suddenly realizing). Oh!
DELIA. It doesn't really matter, because you don't look a day more than thirty.
BELINDA (absently). No. (Hurriedly.) I mean, how sweet of you-- only--
DELIA. What!
BELINDA (playing with her rings). Well, one of them, Mr. Baxter-- Harold--(she looks quickly up at DELIA and down again in pretty affectation, but she is really laughing at herself all the time) he writes statistical articles for the Reviews--percentages and all those things. He's just the sort of man, if he knew that I was your mother, to work it out that I was more than thirty. The other one, Mr. Devenish--Claude--(she looks up and down as before) he's rather, rather poetical. He thinks I came straight from heaven--last week.
DELIA (jumping up). I think _I'd_ better go straight back to Paris.
BELINDA (jumping up and catching her firmly by the arms). You will do nothing of the sort. You will take off that hat--(she lets go of the arm and begins to take out the pin) which is a perfect duck, and I don't know why I didn't say so before--(she puts the hat down on the table) and let me take a good look at you (she does so), and kiss you (she does so), and then we'll go to your room and unpack and have a lovely talk about clothes. And then we'll have tea.
[BETTY
