Jack I don’t think that, as things are now, it would be of much practical value to either of us, Dr Chasuble.

Chasuble I am grieved to hear such sentiments from you, Mr Worthing. They savour of the heretical views of the Anabaptists,° views that I have completely refuted in four of my unpublished sermons. However, as your present mood seems to be one peculiarly secular, I will return to the church at once. Indeed, I have just been informed by the pew-opener° that for the last hour and a half Miss Prism has been waiting for me in the vestry.

Lady Bracknell (starting) Miss Prism! Did I hear you mention a Miss Prism?

Chasuble Yes, Lady Bracknell. I am on my way to join her.

Lady Bracknell Pray allow me to detain you for a moment. This matter may prove to be one of vital importance to Lord Bracknell and myself. Is this Miss Prism a female of repellent aspect, remotely connected with education?

Chasuble (somewhat indignantly) She is the most cultivated of ladies, and the very picture of respectability.

Lady Bracknell It is obviously the same person.° May I ask what position she holds in your household?

Chasuble (severely) I am a celibate,° madam.

Jack (interposing) Miss Prism, Lady Bracknell, has been for the last three years Miss Cardew’s esteemed governess and valued companion.

Lady Bracknell In spite of what I hear of her, I must see her at once. Let her be sent for.

Chasuble (looking off) She approaches; she is nigh.

Enter Miss Prism hurriedly

Miss Prism I was told you expected me in the vestry, dear Canon. I have been waiting for you there for an hour and three quarters. (Catches sight of Lady Bracknell who has fixed her with a stony glare. Miss Prism grows pale and quails. She looks anxiously round as if desirous to escape)

Lady Bracknell (in a severe, judicial voice). Prism! (Miss Prism bows her head in shame) Come here, Prism! (Miss Prism approaches in a humble manner) Prism! Where is that baby? (General consternation. The Canon starts back in horror. Algernon and Jack pretend to be anxious to shield° Cecily and Gwendolen from hearing the details of a terrible public scandal) Twenty-eight years ago, Prism, you left Lord Bracknell’s house, Number 104, Upper Grosvenor Square,° in charge of a perambulator that contained a baby, of the male sex. You never returned. A few weeks later, through the elaborate investigations of the Metropolitan police, the perambulator was discovered at midnight standing by itself in a remote corner of Bayswater. It contained the manuscript of a three-volume novel of more than usually revolting sentimentality. (Miss Prism starts in involuntary indignation) But the baby was not there. (Everyone looks at Miss Prism) Prism! Where is that baby?

A pause.

Miss Prism Lady Bracknell, I admit with shame that I do not know. I only wish I did. The plain facts of the case are these. On the morning of the day you mention, a day that is for ever branded on my memory, I prepared as usual to take the baby out in its perambulator. I had also with me a somewhat old, but capacious hand-bag in which I had intended to place the manuscript of a work of fiction that I had written during my few unoccupied hours. In a moment of mental abstraction, for which I can never forgive myself, I deposited the manuscript in the bassinette° and placed the baby in the hand-bag.

Jack (who had been listening attentively) But where did you deposit the hand-bag?