's daughter.

JANE. Oh, but how thrilling it sounds!

MRS. KNOWLE. Well, I think you are safer with "Jane," dear. Your
mother knew what she was about. And if I can save my only child from
floating in a pool by calling her Sandy, I certainly think it is my
duty to do so.

MELISANDE (to her self ecstatically). Melisande!

MRS. KNOWLE (to MELISANDE). Oh, and talking about floating in a pool
reminds me about the bread-sauce at dinner to-night. You heard what
your father said? You must give cook a good talking to in the morning.
She has been getting very careless lately. I don't know what's come
over her.

MELISANDE. _I've_ come over her. When _you_ were over her, everything
was all right. You know all about housekeeping; you take an interest
in it. I don't. I hate it. How can you expect the house to be run
properly when they all know I hate it? Why did you ever give it up and
make me do it when you know how I hate it?

MRS. KNOWLE. Well, you must learn not to hate it. I'm sure Jane here
doesn't hate it, and her mother is always telling me what a great help
she is.

MELISANDE (warningly). It's no good your saying you like it, Jane,
after what you told me yesterday.

JANE. I don't like it, but it doesn't make me miserable doing it. But
then I'm different. I'm not romantic like Melisande.

MELISANDE. One doesn't need to be very romantic not to want to talk
about bread-sauce. Bread-sauce on a night like this!

MRS. KNOWLE. Well, I'm only thinking of you, Sandy, not of myself. If
I thought about myself I should disregard all the warnings that Dr.
Anderson keeps giving me, and I should insist on doing the
housekeeping just as I always used to. But I have to think of you. I
want to see you married to some nice, steady young man before I
die--my handkerchief, Jane--(JANE gets up and gives her her
handkerchief from the other end of the sofa)--before I die (she
touches her eyes with her handkerchief), and no nice young man will
want to marry you, if you haven't learnt how to look after his house
for him.

MELISANDE (contemptuously). If that's marriage, I shall never get
married.

JANE (shocked). Melisande, darling!

MRS. KNOWLE. Dr. Anderson was saying, only yesterday, trying to make
me more cheerful, "Why, Mrs. Knowle," he said, "you'll live another
hundred years yet." "Dr. Anderson," I said, "I don't _want_ to live
another hundred years. I only want to live until my dear daughter,
Melisande"--I didn't say Sandy t