No, no, my precious. Come: don't cry.
PARAMORE (to Charteris, looking at Julia with delight). How
beautiful she is!
CHARTERIS (throwing up his hands). Oh, Lord help you, Paramore! (He
leaves the bookcase and sits at the end of the couch farthest from the
fire. Meanwhile Sylvia arrives.)
SYLVIA (contemplating Julia). Crying again! Well, you are a womanly
one!
CRAVEN. Don't worry your sister, Sylvia. You know she can't bear it.
SYLVIA. I speak for her good, Dad. All the world can't be expected to
know that she's the family baby.
JULIA. You will get your ears boxed presently, Silly.
CRAVEN. Now, now, now, my dear children, really now! Come, Julia: put
up your handkerchief before Mrs. Tranfield sees you. She's coming
along with Jo.
JULIA (rising). That woman again!
SYLVIA. Another row! Go it, Julia!
CRAVEN. Hold your tongue, Sylvia. (He turns commandingly to Julia.)
Now look here, Julia.
CHARTERIS. Hallo! A revolt of the fathers!
CRAVEN. Silence, Charteris. (To Julia, unanswerably.) The test of a
man or woman's breeding is how they behave in a quarrel. Anybody can
behave well when things are going smoothly.
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