JILL. Will it stop?

MRS. H. Jill, if you can't keep your impertinence to yourself----

HILLCRIST. Jill, come with me.

[He turns towards door, Back.]

JILL. I'm sorry, mother. Only it is a skin game, isn't it?

MRS. H. You pride yourself on plain speech, Jill. I pride myself
on plain thought. You will thank me afterwards that I can see
realities. I know we are better people than these Hornblowers.
Here we are going to stay, and they--are not.

JILL. [Looking at her with a sort of unwilling admiration] Mother,
you're wonderful!

HILLCRIST. Jill!

JILL. Coming, Dodo.

[She turns and runs to the door. They go out.]

[MRS. HILLCRIST, with a long sigh, draws herself up, fine and
proud.]

MRS. H. Dawker! [He comes to her.]

[I shall send him a note to-night, and word it so that