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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Representative Plays by American
+Dramatists: 1856-1911: The Moth and the Flame, by Clyde Fitch
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Representative Plays by American Dramatists: 1856-1911: The Moth and the Flame
+
+Author: Clyde Fitch
+
+Editor: Montrose J. Moses
+
+Release Date: June 2, 2008 [EBook #25531]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOTH AND THE FLAME ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Starner, Diane Monico, and The Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE MOTH AND THE FLAME
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: CLYDE FITCH]
+
+
+
+
+CLYDE FITCH
+
+(1865-1909)
+
+
+Clyde Fitch brought a vivacity to the American stage that no other
+American playwright has thus far succeeded in emulating. The total
+impression of his work leads one to believe that he also brought to
+the American stage a style which was at the same time literary and
+distinctly his own. His personality was interesting and lovable,
+quickly responsive to a variety of human nature. No play of his was
+ever wholly worthless, because of that personal equation which lent
+youth and spontaneity to much of his dialogue. When he attained
+popular fame, he threw off his dramas--whether original or adapted
+from the French and German--with a rapidity and ease that did much to
+create a false impression as to his haste and casualness. But Fitch,
+though a nervously quick worker, was never careless. He pondered his
+dramas long, he carried his characters in mind for years, he almost
+memorized his dialogue before he set it down on paper. And if he wrote
+in his little note-books with the same staccato speed that an artist
+sketches, it was merely because he saw the picture vividly, and
+because the preliminaries had been done beforehand.
+
+The present Editor was privileged to know Fitch as a friend. And to be
+taken into the magic circle was to be given freely of that personal
+equation which made his plays so personal. This association was begun
+over a negative criticism of a play. An invitation followed to come
+and talk it over in his Fortieth Street study, the same room
+which--decorations, furniture, books and all--was bequeathed to
+Amherst College, and practically reproduces there the Fitchean
+flavour.
+
+I have seen Clyde Fitch on many diverse occasions. Through incisive
+comment on people, contemporary manners, and plays, which was let drop
+in conversation, I was able to estimate the natural tendency of
+Fitch's mind. His interest was never concerned solely with dominant
+characters; he was quick rather to sense the idiosyncrasies of the
+average person. His observation was caught by the seemingly
+unimportant, but no less identifying peculiarities of the middle
+class. Besides which, his irony was never more happy than when aimed
+against that social set which he knew, and good-humouredly satirized.
+
+To know Clyde Fitch intimately--no matter for how short a while--was
+to be put in possession of his real self. From early years, he showed
+the same tendencies which later developed more fully, but were not
+different. Success gave him the money to gratify his tastes for
+_objets d'art_, which he used to calculate closely to satisfy in the
+days when "Beau Brummell" and "Frédéric Lemaître" gave hint of his
+dramatic talent. He was a man of deep sentiment, shown to his friends
+by the countless graceful acts as host, and shown to his players. As
+soon as a Fitch play began to be a commodity, coveted by the
+theatrical manager, he nearly always had personal control of its
+production, and could dictate who should be in his casts. No dramatist
+has left behind him more profoundly pleasing memories of artistic
+association than Clyde Fitch. The names of his plays form a roster of
+stage associations--the identification of "Beau Brummell" with Richard
+Mansfield; of "Nathan Hale" with N. C. Goodwin; of "Barbara Frietchie"
+with Julia Marlowe; of "The Climbers" with Amelia Bingham; of "The
+Stubbornness of Geraldine" with Mary Mannering; of "The Truth" and
+"The Girl With Green Eyes" with Clara Bloodgood--to mention a few
+instances. Those who recall happy hours spent with Fitch at his
+country homes--either at "Quiet Corner," Greenwich, Connecticut, or at
+"The Other House," Katonah, New York, have vivid memory of his
+pervasive cordiality. His players, likewise, those whose identifying
+talent caught his fancy, had the same care and attention paid them in
+his playwriting. Sometimes, it may be, this graciousness of his made
+him cut his cloth to suit the figure. "Beau Brummell" was the very
+mold and fashion of Mansfield: but that was _Brummell's_ fault and
+Mansfield's genius, to which was added the adaptability of Fitch. But
+there are no seams or patches to "Captain Jinks of the Horse
+Marines"--its freshness caught the freshness of Ethel Barrymore, and
+Fitch was confident of the blend. His eye was unerring as to stage
+effect, and he would go to all ends of trouble, partly for sentiment,
+partly for accuracy, and always for novelty, to create the desired
+results. Did he not, with his own hands, wire the apple-blossoms for
+the orchard scene in "Lovers' Lane?" Was he not careful to get the
+right colour for the dawn in "Nathan Hale," and the Southern evening
+atmosphere in "Barbara Frietchie?" And in such a play as "Girls," did
+he not delight in the accessories, like the clatter of the steam-pipe
+radiator, for particular New York environment which he knew so
+graphically how to portray?
+
+That was the boy--the Peter Pan quality--in Clyde Fitch; it was not
+his love for the trivial, for he could be serious in the midst of it.
+His temperament in playwriting was as variable as Spring weather--it
+was extravagant in its responsiveness to the momentary mood. He would
+suggest a whole play in one scene; a real flash of philosophy or of
+psychology would be lost in the midst of a slight play on words for
+the sake of a laugh. One finds that often the case in "A Happy
+Marriage." He was never more at home than when squeezing all the human
+traits and humour out of a given situation, which was subsidiary to
+the plot, yet in atmosphere complete in itself. The _Hunter's_
+drawing-room just after the funeral, in "The Climbers;" the church
+scene in "The Moth and the Flame," which for jocularity and small
+points is the equal of Langdon Mitchell's wedding scene in "The New
+York Idea," though not so sharply incisive in its satire; the deck on
+board ship in "The Stubbornness of Geraldine" (so beautifully
+burlesqued by Weber and Fields as "The Stickiness of Gelatine"); and
+_Mr. Roland's_ rooms in _Mrs. Crespigny's_ flat, which almost upset,
+in its humourous bad taste, the tragedy of "The Truth"--these are
+instances of his unusual vein. One finds it is by these fine points,
+these obvious clevernesses that Fitch paved the way to popular
+success. But there was far more to him than this--there was the
+literary sense which gave one the feeling of reality in his plays--not
+alone because of novelty or familiarity of scene, but because of the
+uttered word.
+
+Human foibles and frailties were, therefore, his specialty. Out of his
+vast product of playwriting, one remembers stories and scenes, rather
+than personages; one recalls characteristics rather than characters;
+one treasures quick interplay of words rather than the close reason
+for such. Because of that, some are right in attributing to him a
+feminine quickness of observation, or rather a minute observation for
+the feminine. That is why he determined, in "The City," to dispel the
+illusion that he could not write a man's play, or draw masculine
+characters. Yet was not _Sam Coast_, in "Her Own Way," almost the
+equal of _Georgiana Carley_?
+
+I recall, one midnight--the week before Mr. Fitch sailed on his last
+trip to Europe--he read me "The City," two acts of which were in
+their final shape, the third in process of completion. There used to
+be a superstition among the managers to the effect that if you ever
+wished to consider a play by Fitch, he must be kept from reading it
+himself; for if he did, you would accept it on the spot. All the
+horror of that powerful arraignment of city life, and the equally
+powerful criticism of country life, was brought out on this evening we
+were together, and I was able to see just where, as a stage director,
+Clyde Fitch must have been the mainstay at rehearsals. He never lived
+to give the final touches to his manuscript of "The City,"--touches
+which always meant so much to him; he was dead by the time rehearsals
+were called, and there slipped from the performance some of the
+significant atmosphere he described to me.
+
+There comes vividly to my mind his questions after the reading--trying
+out his effects on me, so to speak. Rapidly he reviewed the work on
+the third act he had planned for the morrow, consulting with me as
+though suddenly I had become a collaborator. In such a way he must
+have planned with Mansfield over _Brummell_; thus he may have worked
+with Julia Marlowe, telling her some of the romantic incidents he had
+drawn from his mother's own Maryland love story for "Barbara
+Frietchie." In the same naïve spirit, he consulted, by letter, with
+Arthur Byron for his "stardom" in "Major André"--which waned so soon
+after the first night.
+
+Everything about the room that evening he read "The City" bore
+evidence of the playwright's personality. The paintings and
+bric-à-brac, the books--mostly biography and letters--the tapestries
+which seemed to blend with the bowls of flowers and furniture of
+French design, the windows looking out on lawns, gardens, and a pond
+with swans upon it, the moonlight on the Cupids that kept guard at
+intervals along the top of a snakelike stone fence--and Fitch, vital,
+happy in his work, happy in his friends, happy in life, as he had
+planned to live it in the years to come. And death waiting him across
+the water!
+
+"Beau Brummell" began Clyde Fitch's career as a dramatist. It was
+produced at the New York Madison Square Theatre, May 17, 1890. At that
+time he had not evinced any determination to be a dramatist--but was
+writing juvenile sketches for _The Churchman_, afterwards gathered in
+a charming volume called "The Knighting of the Twins, and Ten Other
+Tales" (1891). Previous to this, he had attempted "A Wave of Life"--a
+novel whose chief value is autobiographic. Then he showed his clever
+facility at dialogue in a collection of "Six Conversations and Some
+Correspondence;" also in "The Smart Set." But, after the success of
+"Brummell," followed by "Frédéric Lemaître" (December 1, 1890) for
+Henry Miller, a dramatic season hardly passed that Fitch was not
+represented on the bill-boards by two or three comedies. It was very
+rarely that he rewrote his dramas under new titles; it was unusual for
+him to use over again material previously exploited. Exceptions to
+this were in the cases of "The Harvest," a one-act sketch given by the
+New York Theatre of Arts and Letters (January 26, 1893), afterwards
+(April 11, 1898) included as an act of "The Moth and the Flame;"
+"Mistress Betty" (October 15, 1895), for Mme. Modjeska, afterwards
+revamped as "The Toast of the Town" (November 27, 1905) for Viola
+Allen. Interest in the period of Beau Brummell stretched over into
+"The Last of the Dandies" for Beerbohm Tree. But otherwise the bulk of
+his work came each season as a Fitch novelty. He often played against
+himself, the popularity of one play killing the chances of the other.
+For instance, when "Lovers' Lane" opened in New York, there were also
+running "Captain Jinks of the Horse Marines," "Barbara Frietchie" and
+"The Climbers." When "The Cowboy and the Lady" was given in
+Philadelphia, "Nathan Hale" beat it in box-office receipts, and Fitch
+wrote to a friend: "If any play is going to beat it, I'd rather it was
+one of mine, eh?"
+
+By the time he was ready to write "The Moth and the Flame," Fitch had
+won distinction with a variety of picturesque pieces, like "His Grace
+de Grammont," for Otis Skinner, and "Nathan Hale," for Goodwin and
+Maxine Elliott. It may be said to have come just when his vivacity was
+on the increase, for touches in it gave foretaste of his later society
+dramas, and showed his planning, in the manner of the French, for
+excellent theatrical effect. He was to become more expert in the use
+of materials, but no whit less clever in his expansion of "small talk"
+and society shallowness.
+
+"The Harvest" is an early example of Fitch's method of workmanship. It
+was carefully planned and quickly written; in fact, it was set down on
+paper while Fitch was on the four o'clock train between New York and
+Boston; his motive was to show the dangerous power and fascination of
+a clever, dissipated, attractive man-of-the-world on a young girl,
+who, in her innocence, does not understand the warnings given her on
+all sides. The idea grew in his mind, and this growth resulted in "The
+Moth and the Flame," which entered more fully into the "fast" life of
+a man about town, and the dangerous ignorance of the society girl.
+Fitch loved to sketch the smart woman, like _Mrs. Lorrimer_, who, as
+someone has said, is frivolously constituted, but sharply witty and
+with some depth of heart. The fancy-dress party scene is
+autobiographic, he having attended such an occasion at Carroll
+Beckwith's studio, in New York. In technique, this scene is comparable
+with the one of similar gaiety in "Lord and Lady Algy"--both having an
+undercurrent of serious strain. The tragedy motive is relieved at
+almost calculated times by comedy, which shows that Fitch held to the
+old dramatic theory of comic relief. Often this was irritating,
+discounting the mood he was trying to maintain. He was not as skilful
+in the use of these varying elements as Pinero, with whom he might be
+compared--not for strength of characterization, for fullness of story
+or for the sheer art of interest, but for creative vitality and
+variety, as well as for literary feeling in the use of materials. But
+more important than all these was his desire to be true to the
+materials he had selected. On this subject he always had much to say,
+and his comments about Truth in the theatre comprise an enlightening
+exposition of his dramatic theory. This it is well to examine. In
+1901, he adapted, from the French, "Sapho"--to the production of which
+was attached some unpleasant notoriety--and "The Marriage Game." And
+of these he wrote (in _Harper's Weekly_), in response to current
+criticism, as follows:
+
+    It is only fair to myself and to my work done on the two
+    plays to say that my intention and desire in both instances
+    were to be faithful to the French original, and to have the
+    outcome a resultant moral--to the good. To put it mildly, I
+    do not seem to have created that impression exactly in the
+    minds of the public. From their verdict and yours I have
+    picked myself up, pulled myself together, and realized my
+    failure. I had thought I was taking a building from one
+    country and rebuilding it in another with the same stones,
+    but I discovered I had apparently pulled down one structure
+    and raised no other. Believe me, no one regretted this more
+    than I. But I think I have finally learned my lesson. I have
+    learned another thing that I can't do, and I have added it to
+    the list of things I sha'n't try to do. What I _am_ trying to
+    do is to reflect life of all kinds as I see it. To write,
+    first, plays that will interest and mean something; and,
+    after that, amuse. I would rather entertain everybody than
+    one body. And always and in any case with a result to the
+    good. I am trying especially to reflect our own life of the
+    present, and to get into the heart of the pictures made by
+    the past. To do this I do not consider any detail too small,
+    so long as it is not boring. Nor any method wrong which I
+    feel to be true. I am naturally not always believed in, and I
+    do not always make myself clear. Sometimes I think I am
+    misunderstood through laziness. To give one instance, of one
+    or the other: in a recent play of mine, 'The Climbers',
+    something which I meant to be psychologically true was taken
+    to be a theatrical trick. A man who was dishonest in
+    business, but who loved his wife with the really strong love
+    that such weak natures are capable of, is asked to look that
+    wife in the face and, before a group of angry friends and
+    relatives, confess the extent of his crime, his disgrace! I
+    felt, and I still feel, the man couldn't look into his wife's
+    eyes and say the whole ugly truth. And doubly he couldn't
+    with the to him cruel environment of the outraged circle
+    holding back the sympathy of his wife from him. He would feel
+    and cry out to her, 'Let me tell you alone, if I must tell
+    it, and _in the dark, in the dark_!' when he could not see
+    the heart-breaking shame grow upon her face, nor see his own
+    guilty face reflected in her eyes. The end of this sentence
+    he would reiterate, grasping it, too, on the impulse, as a
+    means to put off the ordeal. 'In the dark,--later in the
+    dark', he would tell her everything. But there is no time to
+    be lost if a public scandal is to be averted. The worst must
+    be known at once. The chief friend of them all is there. It
+    is he who is to fight hardest to save them. He knows the
+    house well, and besides he has seen that very evening, after
+    dinner, the lights turned on by the servant with the electric
+    lever. He stands beside this lever. He quickly seizes the
+    last sentence of the cornered guilty man, and, before the
+    latter can think or retract, cries: 'Tell it in the dark,
+    then!' and plunges the room in darkness. The natural impulse
+    of that defaulter under those circumstances would be to blurt
+    out with it; at least so I believe. Such was his vacillating,
+    impulsive nature. And for the same reason the attempt to
+    escape in the dark, which was silly, futile! It was another
+    sudden impulse; had it been otherwise, he was far too
+    sensible to have tried it. I developed that scene by taking
+    the place mentally, or trying to, of each one of the persons
+    engaged in it. I did not start with the so-called 'dark
+    scene'. I had no idea I was going to do what I did until I
+    reached the moment in my writing when it had to be done--at
+    least done that way or not at all. As it occurred to me, so
+    it would have occurred to the friend in the play. And so it
+    did! And knowing this evolution of the scene, I cannot think
+    myself that it was 'a theatrical trick'. In all cases I try
+    to paint my personages from the inside instead of the out,
+    and to cling to human nature as both my starting-point and my
+    goal. This is what I want to do and am trying to do--in a
+    sentence--to tell the Truth in the Theatre. I am trying
+    honestly, and my heart is in it. That's all, except that I am
+    glad of your belief in me.
+
+This frankness and sincerity were typical of Fitch's correspondence
+with everyone who took him seriously. He went to every pains to
+explain himself, and no man more gratefully acknowledged earnest
+attention. It was his quickness to detect in others the spark of
+creative appreciation that made him answer letters to perfect
+strangers, giving them advice as to playwriting. "I like the tone of
+that man's note," he once said to me. "I'll send for him; he may be a
+good actor."
+
+It was not often that he wrote on the theory of his work. There is an
+essay by him, published in 1904, and called "The Play and the Public."
+It is often quoted. But a good thing bears constant repetition, and
+the following sounds Fitch's conviction on a fundamental belief:
+
+    I feel myself very strongly the particular value--a value
+    which, rightly or wrongly, I can't help feeling
+    inestimable--in a modern play of reflecting absolutely and
+    truthfully the life and environment about us; every class,
+    every kind, every emotion, every motive, every occupation,
+    every business, every idleness! Never was life so varied, so
+    complex; what a choice, then! Take what strikes you most, in
+    the hope it will interest others. Take what suits you most to
+    do--what perhaps you can do best--and then do it better. Be
+    truthful, and then nothing can be too big, nothing should be
+    too small, so long as it is here, and _there_! Apart from the
+    question of literature, apart from the question of art,
+    reflect the real thing with true observation and with sincere
+    feeling for what it is and what it represents, and that is
+    art and literature in a modern play. If you inculcate an idea
+    in your play, so much the better for your play and for
+    you--and for your audience. In fact, there is small hope for
+    your play _as_ a play if you haven't some small idea in it
+    somewhere and somehow, even if it is hidden--it is sometimes
+    better for you if it is hidden, but it must of course be
+    integral. Some ideas are mechanical. Then they are no good.
+    These are the ideas for which the author does all the work,
+    instead of letting the ideas do the work for him. One should
+    write what one sees, but observe under the surface. It is a
+    mistake to look at the reflection of the sky in the water of
+    theatrical convention. Instead, look up and into the sky of
+    real life itself.
+
+All sound advice, and a compressed manual of dramatic technique for
+the beginner! But Fitch had the darting eye of a migratory interest.
+He often didn't "follow through," as they say in golf. With the
+result that he is often scored for insufficient motivation. But my
+knowledge of him makes me realize he felt and saw deeper than his
+epigrammatic style indicated. His technique was therefore often
+threadbare in spots,--not of that even mesh which makes of Pinero such
+an exceptional designer. I would put Fitch's "Captain Jinks of the
+Horse Marines" above Edward Sheldon's "Romance" for the faithful
+reproduction of early New York atmosphere. I would put it by the side
+of Pinero's "Trelawney of the 'Wells'." But there is no play of
+Fitch's which, for strength, I would hold beside "The Thunderbolt." In
+his feminine analyses, too, he did not probe as deep as Pinero.
+
+Within a few months of his death, Fitch was asked to deliver an
+address on the theatre at Harvard and at Yale. He enlarged his
+magazine article on "The Play and the Public" for that purpose. It is
+now easily accessible, included in the fourth volume of the Memorial
+Edition of his plays. It was found among his many papers and
+unfinished manuscripts. There is no recent playwright whose "Life and
+Letters" are more worthy of preservation. I have looked through most
+of the materials; have seen letters descriptive of his childhood in
+Schenectady, New York, (he was born, May 2, 1865 in Elmira); have read
+accounts of his student days at Amherst, where vagaries of dress used
+to stir his associates to student pranks; have relished an illustrated
+diary he kept while tutoring in his early years of struggle, his
+father refusing to countenance playwriting instead of architecture.
+These early years were filled with the same vivacity, affection and
+sympathy which later made him such a rare friend. It bears repeating
+what has been often said before--he had a genius for friendship, and
+an equal genius for losing those he did not want.
+
+Such a biography as should be written of his picturesque popularity as
+a playwright would mostly be autobiographic. For a letter from Fitch
+had rare flavour, more personal than his plays but of the same
+Fitchean quality. It would, as well, be a personal record of the
+stage, and would set at rest many myths that have floated around his
+name--such as William Winter wilfully circulated about "Beau
+Brummell."[A]
+
+"The Moth and the Flame" is here reproduced because it has never
+before been issued, and should be made available to the student of
+American Drama. To say that it is typically Fitchean does not mean
+that, in technique or in characterization, it is his best. But it is
+confession that whatever he wrote bore that incommunicable touch which
+gives him a unique position--a position no American playwright thus
+far has been able to usurp.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote A: Since this was written, it has been announced that a
+volume, "Clyde Fitch and his Letters," is being prepared by the
+Editors of the "Memorial Edition" of Fitch's plays.]
+
+
+
+
+LYCEUM THEATRE.                            12th Season.
+
+NEW YORK THEATRE CO.,                        PROPRIETORS
+
+DANIEL FROHMAN,                                 MANAGER
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+WEEK COMMENCING MONDAY EVENING, APRIL 11, 1898.
+
+Evenings at 8.30. Thursday and Saturday Matinees, at 2.15.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+DANIEL FROHMAN takes pleasure in presenting
+
+=THE KELCEY-SHANNON=
+COMPANY,
+
+_Herbert Kelcey, Effie Shannon, Wm. J. LeMoyne, Sarah Cowell
+LeMoyne_ and their organization, under the management of
+
+SAMUEL F. KINGSTON, presenting
+
+=THE MOTH AND THE FLAME=
+
+an Original Play, in Three Acts.
+
+By CLYDE FITCH.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+CAST OF CHARACTERS.
+
+EDWARD FLETCHER                              Mr. KELCEY
+MR. DAWSON                           Mr. WM. J. LeMOYNE
+MR. WOLTON                             Mr. E. W. THOMAS
+DOUGLAS RHODES                          Mr. BRUCE McRAE
+JOHNSTONE                                Mr. EDWARD SEE
+FANSHAW                              Mr. DAVID TORRENCE
+TRIMMINS                          Mr. EDW. H. WILKINSON
+CLERGYMAN                          Mr. SYLVESTER DEEHAN
+HOWES                                   Mr. EDWIN JAMES
+  MARION WOLTON                            Miss SHANNON
+  MRS. LORRIMER               Mrs. SARAH COWELL LeMOYNE
+  MRS. WOLTON                       Mrs. ISABEL WALDRON
+  JEANNETTE GROSS                  Miss ELEANOR MORETTI
+  ETHEL                                Miss LEILA ELLIS
+  KITTY                              Miss EDNA PHILLIPS
+  GERTRUDE                          Miss ETHEL KINGSTON
+  BLANCHE                              Miss MARY HANSON
+  BESSY                                 Miss MAMIE DUNN
+  MRS. FLETCHER, SR.                Mrs. FRANCES FERREN
+  MAID                                Miss EMMA JANVIER
+
+Guests, Bridesmaids, etc., by Pupils of the Stanhope-Wheatcroft School.
+
+Produced under the stage direction of the Author.
+
+Costumes for Act I. from special designs executed by Maurice Herrmann.
+
+Programme continued on second page following.
+
+
+
+
+ACT I.--
+
+        _Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence Wolton
+                   At Home
+        Tuesday Evening, January ----
+              at Ten O'clock._
+
+_Children's Costumes
+    de rigueur._               _---- East 69th Street._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+ACT II.--_One year later_--
+
+            _Mrs. Lawrence Wolton
+     requests the honor of your presence
+       at the Marriage of her Daughter,
+                   Marion,
+                     to
+        Mr. Edward Houghton Fletcher,
+          Thursday, February 10th,
+              at Five o'clock,
+       St. Hubert's Chapel, New York._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+ACT III.--THE FOLLOWING DAY.
+
+
+
+
+THE MOTH AND THE FLAME
+
+_By_ CLYDE FITCH
+
+COPYRIGHT, 1908
+
+ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
+
+BY CLYDE FITCH AND ALICE KAUSER
+
+Copyright, 1919, by E. P. Dutton & Company, Alice Kauser, and Frank E.
+Whitman and Bernard M. L. Ernst, as Executors of the Estate of Alice
+M. Fitch, deceased.
+
+
+[The Editor wishes to record here, in memoriam, his grateful
+appreciation of the desire shown by the late Mrs. Fitch to have in the
+present Collection a hitherto unpublished play by her son, Clyde
+Fitch. Through her courtesy, "The Moth and the Flame" is here
+included.]
+
+
+
+
+CAST OF CHARACTERS
+
+EDWARD FLETCHER
+MR DAWSON
+MR WOLTON
+DOUGLAS RHODES
+JOHNSTONE
+FANSHAW
+TRIMMINS
+CLERGYMAN
+HOWES
+MARION WOLTON
+MRS. LORRIMER
+MRS. WOLTON
+JEANETTE GROSS
+ETHEL
+KITTY
+GERTRUDE
+BLANCHE
+MAID
+MRS. FLETCHER
+
+_Guests, Bridesmaids, Choristers, Servants and others_.
+
+
+
+
+ACT I.
+
+
+    SCENE. _The First Act takes place in the_ WOLTON'S _house
+    during a large fancy ball. All the guests are in children's
+    costumes--that being insisted upon in the invitations. The
+    stage represents a reception-room; the end of a conservatory,
+    or ball-room, being seen through a large archway. In the
+    upper right hand corner of the stage is a small stage built
+    with curtains and foot-lights, for an amateur vaudeville
+    performance, which is taking place._
+
+    _At rise of curtain the room is filled with guests in
+    costume, on chairs before improvised stage, and the curtain
+    of stage is just falling, as one of the Lady Guests--who,
+    dressed (and blacked) as a small Darky Girl, has been singing
+    a popular negro ballad ("Warmest Baby.") The mimic curtain
+    rises again, owing to the applause of the mimic audience. The
+    chorus of song is repeated and the curtain again falls to
+    applause. There is a general movement among guests--with
+    laughter and conversation._
+
+    DISCOVERED. MARION WOLTON, _dressed in Empire Child's gown,
+    is sitting in one of the third row of chairs next the
+    foot-lights. Up to now her back is partly turned toward the
+    audience._ KITTY RAND, _dressed in short skirts, is just
+    behind her_.
+
+FANSHAW. [_Leaning over to_ MARION.] I think, Marion, this was really
+a most amusing idea of yours, having us all come as children.
+
+    _Enter_ DOUGLAS RHODES, _in white sailor costume. He meets_
+    MRS. WOLTON _who enters. They talk._
+
+MARION. [_To_ KITTY.] Your costume, Kitty, is charming.
+
+KITTY. [_With a ball on rubber cord._] My dear, I'm sure I look a
+sight. I feel as if it were bathing hour at Narragansett.
+
+MARION. Here's Bessie. How splendid she was. [_Rises._] [_Enter_
+BESSIE. _She laughs as she is greeted by shouts of laughter and
+applause by guests. She joins_ MARION, _who shakes her hand_.] You
+were too funny, Bessie. [_A guest rises and offers seat to_ BESSIE.
+_She accepts it and sits._
+
+JOHNSTONE. [_Monkey; white kilt suit._] [_To_ BESSIE _as she sits_.]
+Yes. Isn't this an awfully lovely party? [_To_ FANSHAW.] Here,
+Fanshaw, it's your turn.
+
+GUESTS _and_ ALL. Yes, come on Fanshaw, etc. [FANSHAW _exits_.
+
+RHODES _comes from_ MRS. WOLTON, _nodding pleasantly to guests as he
+passes round behind them, to_ MARION. _He shakes her hand._
+
+MARION. Why so late, Douglas?
+
+DOUGLAS. I was dining with Mrs. Lorrimer; but I hope you've saved me a
+seat by you. [BLANCHE _exits, ready for stage_.
+
+MARION. I'm sorry, but I haven't. There's the curtain.
+
+   _She sits and_ DOUGLAS _takes a place back of guests, shaking
+   hands with_ TRIMMINS _as he does so. Mimic curtain rises,
+   music begins, all interrupt with "Sh-h."_ FANSHAW _enters on
+   mimic stage, dressed as Little Lord Fauntleroy, and sings.
+   Mimic curtain falls to applause. Curtain is raised. Black
+   rag-baby thrown to him during song._ FANSHAW _enters, bows,
+   and, as he does so_, BLANCHE _throws a small bouquet of
+   flowers to him. This he catches and makes entrance upon stage
+   by jumping over mimic foot-lights. He is congratulated and
+   thanked by_ MARION _and resumes his seat_.
+
+   _Music begins. All interrupt again with "Sh-h." Curtain is
+   raised, and enter_ ETHEL, _dressed as a child of 1840, in
+   white and green. She comes forward and sings_ ("_Henrietta_"),
+   _with orchestral accompaniment, a flute obligato being a
+   feature of the latter, which, every little while, indulges in
+   loud variations, entirely drowning the singer's voice, much to
+   her annoyance, and the only half-suppressed amusement of the
+   guests. As she reaches the chorus all_ (_at_ MARION'S
+   _suggestion_) _join in with her and finish the song_. MARION
+   _rises, giving the signal that the entertainment is over.
+   Servants come in and take away most of the chairs, leaving one
+   in centre of stage and three up toward the left centre. All
+   rise and form groups; those of guests near the door move into
+   ball-room and off._ ETHEL _enters, and_ MARION _at once greets
+   her_, KITTY _and_ JOHNSTONE _joining them_.
+
+MARION. Thank you ever so much.
+
+JOHNSTONE. Yes, indeed. Isn't this an awfully lovely party.
+
+ETHEL. [_With large hoople and stick; quickly, much put out_.] My dear
+Marion, I could choke that flute player.
+
+MARION. Don't be selfish, Ethel; the man wanted to be heard. [_Goes up
+to_ DOUGLAS.
+
+ETHEL. If I were a witch, I'd curse him with asthma. Mr. Johnstone, go
+and curse him for me.
+
+JOHNSTONE. With pleasure.
+
+ETHEL. Just give him a piece of my mind. [_Enter_ GIRL.
+
+JOHNSTONE. [_Flatteringly._] He doesn't deserve such a gift. But isn't
+this a lovely party? Will you excuse me? [_He goes up stage to_
+BLANCHE, _offers his arm, which she takes, and they exit._ KITTY _and_
+ETHEL _watch_ BLANCHE _and_ JOHNSTONE, _amused._
+
+KITTY. [_To_ ETHEL.] Just look at Blanche. Do you suppose she's going
+to--
+
+ETHEL. She's going to with all her might and main, if he will only ask
+her.
+
+KITTY. A large if-- [_Laughing._ FANSHAW _and_ GERTRUDE _join_ ETHEL
+_and_ KITTY _down stage._
+
+FANSHAW. Looks as if Johnny were getting pretty stuck on Blanche,
+doesn't it? [_Goes to_ KITTY. TRIMMINS _moves up centre._
+
+ETHEL. Yes, or just the other way round. [_All laugh._
+
+GERTRUDE. Who are you dancing the cotillon with, Ethel?
+
+ETHEL. Don't know. I've promised two men, but I haven't made up my
+mind who I'll dance with yet.
+
+FANSHAW. A nice person to engage for a partner. [_Calling._] Trimmins!
+
+ETHEL. Sh-h! He's one of the men I've promised.
+
+FANSHAW. [_Laughing._] Never mind. I'm the other. [_All laugh._
+GERTRUDE _says_, "Oh, Ethel!" GERTRUDE _goes toward_ MARION, ETHEL _and_
+KITTY _at same time._ MARION _exits._
+
+FANSHAW. [_To_ TRIMMINS.] Who are you dancing the cotillon with,
+Trimmins?
+
+TRIMMINS. Ethel Stevens!
+
+FANSHAW. Who?
+
+TRIMMINS. Ethel Stevens!
+
+FANSHAW. I'll bet a fiver you're not. She's dancing with me.
+
+TRIMMINS. [_Very pleased._] Delighted! I owe you the five with joy.
+[_Rushes_ FANSHAW _out of the way. Crossing to_ GERTRUDE.] Will you
+give me the pleasure? [DOUGLAS _out at back, exits._] Thank you.
+[_Offers his arm, which_ GERTRUDE _takes, and they go out at back._
+
+FANSHAW. Well!
+
+MARION. Are you going to stand perfectly still and be robbed in that
+manner? [_Laughing._
+
+FANSHAW. Well, but what am I-- [_Interrupted by one of the girl
+guests, who says_, "I'm here!"] Oh, so you are. [_Puts his arm in
+hers, and they run off together._
+
+ETHEL. Marion, isn't Mr. Ned Fletcher coming to-night?
+
+MARION. Yes. [_Exit._
+
+KITTY. I'm so glad; he's quite the most amusing man in town this
+winter. [_Sitting on chair which servant left._
+
+ETHEL. And so many people won't ask him to their houses, you know.
+Mamma won't.
+
+KITTY. Well, you know, your mother's a ridiculous person; she asks
+lots of awfully fast men!
+
+ETHEL. Yes, but they are all relatives.
+
+KITTY. [_Putting arm around_ ETHEL, _pricks her finger._] I don't
+believe Net Fletcher is as bad as people hint. He's too good looking.
+[_Fixing dress._
+
+ETHEL. And I don't care whether he's bad or not, he's charming enough
+to make up for it. Besides, I suppose all men are bad.
+
+KITTY. Oh--I don't know.
+
+ETHEL. I mean all nice men.
+
+KITTY. Where has Mr. Fletcher been before this winter?
+
+ETHEL. My dear, he's one of those men who live all over the
+place--most of the time in Europe--but he's been here always off and
+on--and in Newport and in Lenox he has yachts and things, don't you
+know! [_Exits down right._
+
+MARION. [_Enters._] Girls, will you go into the ball-room, till the
+men get the tables ready here? [_She speaks aside to one of the
+servants, and exits. Servants bring on small table and place it with
+bottles, lunch, etc., a broken glass covered with napkins to fall on
+stage. Place seven chairs about table. Exit._
+
+ETHEL. _Of course._ [_To_ KITTY, _crossing to her._] Do you notice how
+she won't talk about Fletcher and won't listen to any one else either?
+
+KITTY. My dear, she's heels over head.
+
+ETHEL. Poor Douglas Rhodes! [_Half smiling, in part satire._
+
+KITTY. Serves him right for hanging around her all his life! Why
+didn't he flirt with one of us girls for a time, if only to make her
+jealous! [ETHEL _sees_ DOUGLAS _enter, and tries to warn_ KITTY. ETHEL
+_gives_ KITTY _a violent pull of the arm to warn her to stop speaking
+of_ DOUGLAS.
+
+ETHEL. [_To_ DOUGLAS.] You can't stay here; we're driven out.
+
+KITTY. Come, help us make fun of the other people.
+
+DOUGLAS. In a few minutes. I must give you a chance to make fun of me!
+
+KITTY. Oh, we've been doing that for years! [_ETHEL blows DOUGLAS'
+whistle which he has suspended from neck, pulling it out of his
+pocket. ETHEL and KITTY smile coquettishly at DOUGLAS and exit into
+ball-room, arm in arm. Distant music off stage. DOUGLAS follows up
+centre. A pause. Enter MARION. DOUGLAS, up stage, looks admiringly at
+her, and smiles. Then, smiling and putting himself into a boyish
+attitude, he says boyishly._
+
+DOUGLAS. Hello, Molly!
+
+MARION. [_Smiling back, catching his mood, speaks girlishly._] Hello,
+Dug! It does take one back to old days, doesn't it!
+
+DOUGLAS. That was what I was thinking of, Marion, the days of
+dancing-school. How good you were to always be my partner, even though
+I couldn't reverse without treading on your toes!
+
+MARION. [_Smiling._] You were a bad dancer--and death to slippers.
+
+DOUGLAS. And the children's parties, with the old games, "Post
+Office," "Copenhagen," "Kiss in the Ring."
+
+MARION. [_Smiling mischievously._] You were good enough at "Kiss in
+the Ring" to make up for your not reversing.
+
+DOUGLAS. [_With real sentiment, crosses to her._] Do you remember it
+all as well as I do?
+
+MARION. [_Realizing his sentiment, and trying to change their mood,
+but pleasantly._] Of course I do! We were great friends then, as we
+are now, and as I hope we always will be, Douglas.
+
+DOUGLAS. But if we played the old games again, would it be the same?
+
+MARION. No, no, things are never the same.
+
+DOUGLAS. But would you let me choose you always? Would you pretend not
+to see me coming, so I could slap your hands on the Copenhagen rope
+and take my reward? If we played "Post Office," would _I_ have all my
+letters from _your_ lips! Would you mind if, in "bow to the wittiest,
+kneel to the prettiest, and kiss the one you loved best," I choose you
+again, openly, for all three? Would you give me _all_ your dances?
+
+MARION. [_More serious, though still smiling kindly, sweetly._] That's
+just it, Douglas! You can reverse now, and there are so many other
+girls wanting partners!
+
+DOUGLAS. But-- [_Interrupted._
+
+MARION. Besides, after all, we're only children _outside_ to-night;
+our _hearts_ have come of age!
+
+DOUGLAS. Yes, Marion, but, boy's and man's, my heart's the same. I
+want the same partner I did then, only I want her for the game of
+life!
+
+MARION. I am so sorry!
+
+DOUGLAS. Sorry? Then you won't let your hands lie on the rope for me
+any more?
+
+MARION. I am very fond of you, Douglas, and I always was, but-- [_She
+hesitates._
+
+DOUGLAS. [_A little bitterly, disappointed._] I know what you mean. I
+was all right for dancing-school, but life is a more serious
+matter-- [_MARION goes to chair and sits down._] I know I'm not like
+you, Marion--I know what an intellectual woman you are, and what an
+ordinary sort of fellow I am. But I _love_ you! and I hoped-- [_He
+breaks off and continues with his first idea._] You went to a woman's
+college, and I _only_ to a _man's_--You made a study of sociology--I,
+[_Smiling._] principally of athletics. I know I never read books, and
+you seem to read everything. But I love you. You have your clubs for
+working girls, your charities; I know the busy, helpful life you lead.
+You have so much in it, I was in hopes that what room was left for a
+_husband_ was so little, even _I_ could fill it. And somehow or other
+I've always taken it for granted you more or less understood, and
+were--willing.
+
+MARION. I was--once--
+
+DOUGLAS. You were?
+
+MARION. There was no one in the world I liked so much to be with as
+you, and I think I, too, believed my happiness was in your hands, and
+that some day we would decide together it was so. But I lately-- [_She
+hesitates._
+
+DOUGLAS. Some one else?
+
+MARION. I don't like you one bit less, Douglas, only-- [_Rises._
+
+DOUGLAS. Only you liked some one else more! I was afraid so. I've
+heard whispers and guesses--
+
+MARION. Don't let it make any difference with _us_, Douglas!
+
+DOUGLAS. You love him?
+
+MARION. Yes.
+
+DOUGLAS. Very much?
+
+MARION. You see, every one is against him, and I feel that I have a
+chance to save him.
+
+DOUGLAS. You believe in him?
+
+MARION. [_Shortly._] Yes.
+
+DOUGLAS. Would you believe anything against him?
+
+MARION. [_On the defensive, indignant._] _No!_
+
+DOUGLAS. If some one told you of something dishonourable this man had
+done?
+
+MARION. I would suspect the motive of the person who told me. Do you
+think I haven't heard plenty of gossip against him? Every girl I know
+has done her best to take away his character, and _begged me to
+introduce him to her_ in the same breath.
+
+DOUGLAS. And if I spoke against him?
+
+MARION. [_Leaning on back of chair._] I know I couldn't help it, after
+what you have told me; I should have to feel you might be influenced
+by jealousy.
+
+DOUGLAS. To _unjustly_ accuse a man?
+
+MARION. Oh, Douglas, no, of course you would believe what you said,
+but I wouldn't trust your judgment. Don't I know every one is down on
+him. Even you men; are all the men in New York so proud of their past
+lives--not to mention the _present_ of several I know?--Well, if men
+turn a cold shoulder, then we women must give him our hands.
+
+DOUGLAS. You girls don't understand.
+
+MARION. Oh, girls understand a good deal nowadays. Society and some of
+the newspapers attend to that. He doesn't pretend to be a saint to
+me--I find him perfectly frank--and I am afraid he has been rather
+fast! But I don't believe he is capable of an outright dishonourable
+action, and nothing would make me believe it!
+
+DOUGLAS. No proof?
+
+MARION. Only the proof of my own eyes. When I see him do something
+contemptible, then I'll believe _half_ the stories I hear of him!
+[_Moving a little up centre._
+
+DOUGLAS. I see you _do_ love him.
+
+MARION. I do, though you are the only person I have confessed it
+to,--not even to him--and forgive me, [_Down a little._] but I never
+liked you less than I do now when you have spoken against him. [_Up to
+arch._
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Following her._] No, tell me you will forget it, and keep
+me the same old friend, and I'll promise not to speak against him to
+you again.
+
+MARION. [_Smiling._] Very well-- [_They shake hands._] Why, I want you
+two to be the best of friends--you _must_ be--
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Also smiling._] Oh, I don't promise that--I haven't given
+you up yet, and I sha'n't until--
+
+MARION. [_Smiling._] When--?
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Smiling._] Until I see you going into the church to be
+married.
+
+MARION. You'll say nothing more against Ned?
+
+DOUGLAS. Not to you. [_Moving down, right centre._
+
+MARION. Oh, but you will to others? [_Follows._
+
+DOUGLAS. I will say what I have to say to--_him._
+
+MARION. To _him?_
+
+    _Enter_ MRS. WOLTON _and_ FLETCHER. FLETCHER _is dressed in
+    dark sailor clothes._
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Marion, here's another little boy. [MARION _turns and
+greets_ FLETCHER, _going to him._ DOUGLAS _and_ FLETCHER _see each
+other and say_ "Good evening" _pleasantly._
+
+MARION. It's too bad you missed the vaudeville.
+
+FLETCHER. Did _you_ do anything. [MARION _laughs and exits with_
+FLETCHER.
+
+   DOUGLAS _turns around quickly, annoyed, to speak to_ MRS.
+   WOLTON, _but, in his quick turning and in his movement of
+   annoyance, keeping his eyes on_ MARION _and_ FLETCHER, _he has
+   struck glasses and a bottle on the little supper-table beside
+   them. They crash on the floor. He and_ MRS. WOLTON _both
+   start._
+
+DOUGLAS. Oh! Mrs. Wolton, forgive me; how clumsy! [_Starts to pick
+up._
+
+MRS. WOLTON. No, never mind. [_As_ SERVANT _enters_.] Here is
+Howes-- [_To_ SERVANT.] Howes, see to this, please, at once.
+
+SERVANT. Yes, m'm. Please, Mr. Dawson is here to see Mr. Wolton.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Mr. Dawson, my brother! Why, he's in Boston, Howes.
+
+SERVANT. Beg pardon, m'm, but he must have returned to-day. Most
+important, he says, m'm. Where shall I show him? The ladies and
+gentlemen are playing "Blind Man's Buff" in Mr. Wolton's room.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. This is the quietest place. Show Mr. Dawson in here.
+Where is Mr. Wolton?
+
+SERVANT. [_Trying not to smile._] He's blind-folded, m'm!
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_Smiling._] Tell him.
+
+SERVANT. Yes, m'm. [_Exits._
+
+DOUGLAS. Shall we join the game?
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Yes, come, I will take Mr. Wolton's place! I haven't
+played Blind Man's Buff for-- [_She calculates a moment, and then
+speaks amusedly._] Good gracious!--_never mind how many years_!!
+
+DOUGLAS. Oh, not so many as all that, I am sure! [_They go out at
+back._
+
+    _Enter_ SERVANT _with_ DAWSON _in cutaway coat and vest and
+    usual trousers._ SERVANT _at once begins to pick up the
+    debris made by_ DOUGLAS.
+
+DAWSON. What's going on here, Howes?
+
+SERVANT. A children's party, sir.
+
+DAWSON. A what?
+
+SERVANT. A children's party, sir.
+
+DAWSON. Who are the children?
+
+SERVANT. Mr. Wolton and Miss Wolton, sir, and her friends. Mr.
+Wolton's playing games now, sir, but he said he would join you in a
+minute.
+
+DAWSON. [_Out loud, involuntarily, but speaking to himself--very
+seriously, almost tragically._] Playing games! My God!
+
+SERVANT. Yes, sir--one don't know what rich folks'll do next, sir.
+_We're_ in hopes, in the kitchen, they'll take to pretending they're
+the servants, sir, and turn us loose in the ball-room. [_Smiling.
+Exits._
+
+DAWSON. [_Who hardly hears_ SERVANT.] Playing games, with ruin and
+disgrace staring him in the face. [_Enter_ MR. WOLTON.
+
+MR. WOLTON. [_Flushed and gay--an elderly man in knickerbockers and
+evening coat, a sort of English Court costume. The handkerchief, which
+was tied around his eyes in the game, has slipped, and lies about his
+neck._] Well, Fred, what's the good news?
+
+DAWSON. The worst there could be!
+
+MR. WOLTON. [_Half whispers._] What do you mean!!
+
+DAWSON. [_Dragging off the Blind Man's Buff handkerchief from_
+WOLTON'S _neck_.] What do you mean by going in for all this
+tomfoolery, to-night, with ruin and disgrace ready for you in the
+morning?
+
+MR. WOLTON. So soon--?
+
+DAWSON. How much longer did you think you could stave it off?
+
+MR. WOLTON. [_Sinks exhausted into a chair._] I didn't know.
+
+DAWSON. Why didn't you tell me your credit was as exhausted in Boston
+as here? [_Taking chair from table, and sitting right of_ WOLTON.
+
+MR. WOLTON. I thought, with you doing the negotiating, it mightn't be!
+
+DAWSON. Well, it is; do you hear me, you haven't any such thing as
+_credit there_ nor _here!_ nor anywhere, for aught I know! To-morrow
+is the last day of grace. Your sister-in-law has to pay this money?
+
+MR. WOLTON. Yes.
+
+DAWSON. What did you let her buy that house for?
+
+MR. WOLTON. [_Testily._] How could I help it! My brother didn't
+appoint me her guardian! He simply left her money in trust in my
+hands!
+
+DAWSON. "In trust in your hands!" [_Laughs cruelly._
+
+MR. WOLTON. Don't do that!
+
+DAWSON. And you speculated with it, and lost every cent!
+
+MR. WOLTON. Yes.
+
+DAWSON. What a scoundrel you are! [WOLTON _squirms miserably in his
+chair._ DAWSON _adds quietly_.] And yet I don't suppose there's at
+this moment a more popular man in New York, socially, than you.
+
+MR. WOLTON. No, I don't believe there is!--but a damned lot of good it
+does me!
+
+DAWSON. Will your sister-in-law accept her ruin quietly?
+
+MR. WOLTON. No, she's never liked me; she'll take pleasure in exposing
+me!
+
+DAWSON. But for your _wife_ and _child's_ sake!
+
+MR. WOLTON. You know very well she _hates them_! They have never taken
+her up; she wasn't possible, socially. [DAWSON _laughs again
+bitterly_.] _Don't_ do that!
+
+DAWSON. Well, then, after ruining yourself and your brother's wife,
+you must ruin your _own_!
+
+MR. WOLTON. [_Alarmed, uneasy_.] What do you mean?
+
+DAWSON. I mean that my sister's own money is enough to pay for your
+sister's silence. Don't you understand? Your sister mustn't know, of
+course, that you've stolen her fortune. Instead, your wife must be
+told,--poor Laura--and for her daughter's sake, she must consent to
+beggar herself. Her bonds will about meet the payment of the house
+to-morrow--they must be sold the first thing--I will see to it.----
+[_As he speaks, he is looking_ WOLTON _straight in the face. Something
+in_ WOLTON'S _face grows upon him with conviction as he speaks his
+last few words. He breaks off suddenly_.] What! you've taken hers,
+too! [_He leans over_ WOLTON _in the chair, his hands on his
+shoulders, close to his neck, in a rage. Rises._] You've beggared _my
+sister_, your wife and child! You-- [_Interrupted._
+
+MR. WOLTON. [_With a big effort, rises, throwing off_ DAWSON'S
+_hands_.] Sh!--For God's sake, lower your voice! You'll be heard!
+
+DAWSON. [_With a change of tone, but speaking with utter contempt_.]
+By a couple hundred fools! To-morrow _thousands_ will hear of your
+dirty dishonour!! [_Going toward right a little_.
+
+MR. WOLTON. [_To_ DAWSON.] But _you_, you have money--won't you come
+to my rescue?
+
+DAWSON. I couldn't if I would. You have borrowed half a fortune of me
+already. What I have left must go to take care of my sister and niece.
+Do you think I'd support _you_! No, the _State_ will do that.
+
+MR. WOLTON. That!! You'd let me go to--?
+
+DAWSON. You'll get twenty years at least!
+
+MR. WOLTON. You won't help me _escape_!
+
+DAWSON. No.
+
+MR. WOLTON. But Laura? she loves me, and Marion. _They_ will suffer
+for me; I may be weakly dishonourable, but I've always loved them, and
+they me. Besides, any public dishonour which comes to my name must
+touch theirs too.
+
+DAWSON. I'm not so sure about that--I think there is material for a
+divorce here.
+
+MR. WOLTON. A divorce! My God, must I lose everything! Show a little
+pity, Fred! Remember the old days at school; was I a bad boy? We were
+chums for years, you know it!--You were my best man when I married
+Laura, and you were the gayest at the wedding! It's only been this
+curse of gambling with the stocks that has driven me to the
+devil,--that and my cursed luck.
+
+DAWSON. _Luck_ has nothing to do with _honour_.
+
+MR. WOLTON. You don't know--oftener than you think, it has everything!
+[_Enter_ SERVANT.
+
+SERVANT. Supper is ready, sir. Can we have this room?
+
+DAWSON. Yes, Howes, I'm going!
+
+SERVANT. Thank you, sir. [_Exits._
+
+MR. WOLTON. Give me a word of hope, Fred!--something! What are you
+going to do?
+
+DAWSON. Nothing till to-morrow morning.
+
+MR. WOLTON. And that's all you have to say?
+
+DAWSON. All. [_The two men stand looking at each other a moment in a
+sort of grim embarrassment, then_ DAWSON _exits. Music. It must be
+evident to the audience, though not to the hysterically excited_
+WOLTON, _that_ DAWSON _has a little, a very little, pity, but doesn't
+wish to show it,--at any rate not yet_. WOLTON, _who has stood a
+moment lost in thought, an expression of despair in his face, shudders
+and comes to himself. He looks around to see that he is alone. He
+grasps his forehead tight a moment in his right hand, drops his hand,
+and with compressed lips nods his head determinedly. He is standing by
+one of the smaller supper-tables; he looks down at it and takes up a
+silver knife at one of the places, feels its dull edge, and throws it
+down sneering. A_ SERVANT _appears_.
+
+MR. WOLTON. Howes?
+
+SERVANT. [_Coming into the room and going to_ WOLTON.] Yes, sir.
+
+MR. WOLTON. I am going up to my room. [_With a motion of his head,
+indicating upstairs._] I am not feeling well. If my absence should be
+noticed, explain to Mrs. Wolton, but do not disturb me--do you
+understand?
+
+SERVANT. Yes, sir.
+
+MR. WOLTON. _On no account am I to be disturbed._ No one is to come to
+me until _after_ the party is entirely over. _Don't make any mistake
+about that._
+
+SERVANT. No, sir.
+
+   WOLTON, _who is half way between centre and door right, turns
+   for a moment, looking about the room. He is seized with a
+   nervous twitching of his muscles. He clenches his fists,
+   grinds his teeth to control himself, and, bowing his head,
+   goes from the room by door_. KITTY _and_ JOHNSTONE _appear in
+   ball-room doorway, at exit of_ WOLTON.
+
+KITTY. [_Looking into room on stage._] Here's a dear table, all by
+itself. [_Speaks as she appears in the doorway. The two turn and look
+off right at_ ETHEL _and_ FANSHAW _who are following them slowly_.
+
+JOHNSTONE. Come along, Fanshaw, here's a lovely, quiet table, where we
+can say just what we like about everybody! [_They stand in doorway a
+moment, looking off right, waiting for the other couple with their
+backs to_ WOLTON _and room_. ETHEL _and_ FANSHAW _join the first
+couple, and all come forward, speaking. The following speeches are
+made as they come forward to table_.
+
+JOHNSTONE. [_To_ FANSHAW _and_ ETHEL.] How you dawdle.
+
+ETHEL. Jack Wright tore my lace.
+
+FANSHAW. Trying to kiss her in Copenhagen. [_They are about the
+table._ JOHNSTONE _at once sits down first in the chair the_ SERVANT
+_was holding for one of the ladies_. SERVANT _then opens a bottle of
+champagne and pours in the glasses_.
+
+JOHNSTONE. [_Sitting._] Come on.
+
+KITTY. Look at him!
+
+ETHEL. What a rude little beast you are, Johnny!
+
+FANSHAW. Get up! [_Pushing him._
+
+JOHNSTONE. Well, you girls dawdle so! [KITTY _and_ ETHEL _sit. Enter_
+MRS. LORRIMER _from ball-room, dressed as a Watteau Shepherdess. She
+is greeted by a chorus of four. Carries lamb and crook._
+
+ETHEL, KITTY, JOHNSTONE, FANSHAW. Oh, look at Mrs. Lorrimer!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Pirouettes once around, and makes a bob curtsy._]
+Good evening. [_Laughing._] Well, I don't want to throw bouquets at
+myself, but I don't think it's bad.
+
+ETHEL _and_ KITTY. You're splendid!
+
+JOHNSTONE. Love---- [_Sits._]
+
+KITTY. Get Mrs. Lorrimer a chair. [_They all move to make more room
+for her, and_ FANSHAW _gets an extra chair from arch_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. I'm afraid I'm a fifth spoke in your wheel! [_She sits.
+A_ SERVANT _passes them bouillon which they take and eat._
+
+ETHEL. Don't be foolish; girls at a ball nowadays can't expect to have
+a man apiece. [JOHNSTONE _lights a cigarette and smokes. A_ SERVANT
+_in ball-room is seen taking away the bouillon cups, while a second
+passes Bouches à la Reine there._ FANSHAW _sits above_ ETHEL _left of
+table, after taking lamb and crook from_ MRS. LORRIMER _and placing
+them down left corner_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. How is the party?
+
+JOHNSTONE. Awfully lovely party!
+
+KITTY. A tearing success!
+
+ETHEL. You ought to have seen the vaudeville!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. How did your stunt go, Ethel?
+
+FANSHAW. Great.
+
+ETHEL. Oh, my dear, a brute of a flute player ruined it. I felt like
+thirty cents.
+
+FANSHAW. No one could spend much more money on a party than old Wolton
+is doing to-night.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Does Marion show her age in a child's dress?
+
+KITTY. She looks charmingly, but then Marion isn't so old.
+
+ETHEL. Perhaps not so old as she usually looks.
+
+JOHNSTONE. Aren't you a Kitty cat?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Why doesn't she paint a little?
+
+JOHNSTONE. What!
+
+KITTY. _Marion?_ Paint! Her _face_!
+
+ETHEL. My dear, she'd die first! [_All laugh, saying_ "Marion".
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Grandiloquently._] Not that I approve of painting!
+[_Music stops._
+
+ALL. [_Laughing._] Oh, no!
+
+ETHEL. Nor I!
+
+ALL. [_Laughing._] Oh, no!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Who's here?
+
+JOHNSTONE. Everybody.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Anyone I can marry?
+
+KITTY. Oh, Mrs. Lorrimer, do be decent. You haven't been divorced a
+year yet.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. My dear, divorce isn't like death--you don't have to go
+into mourning! Besides, that's what I want to get married for! I find
+I've a perfect passion for divorce! Just like men have it for drink.
+The more I get the more I want! [_Laugh._] I've only had two divorces,
+and I want another!
+
+JOHNSTONE. You must be damned careful--I beg your pardon--
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Oh, don't apologize, I say it myself!--careful about
+what?
+
+JOHNSTONE. What sort of _husband you choose_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Exactly! None of your _ideal_ men for me! I want a man
+with a bad record! [_Laugh._] Plenty of proof concealed about his
+person, or not buried too deep in his past for me and my lawyer to
+ferret out. I've a perfect duck of a lawyer! He made up every bit of
+evidence about my last husband; that won me my case, and, my dears, it
+just _happened_ to turn out to be true! [_Laugh._
+
+ETHEL. Speaking of records, who do you think is here to-night?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. _Ned_ Fletcher--!!
+
+KITTY. Yes.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Girls--I'll tell you a secret--
+
+JOHNSTONE. I don't want to hear it. [_Takes a chair left centre, sits
+and lights cigarette._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. I'm crazy about him! Where is he? [_Glancing over her
+shoulder._
+
+KITTY. You've no chance; he's going to marry Marion, if she'll have
+him.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. What a shame! And will she?
+
+ETHEL. She's mad about him!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. The moth and the flame! What a pity! because he'd be
+simply ideal for me! Why, do you know I hear that he-- [_Stops
+suddenly, looking at_ JOHNSTONE _and_ FANSHAW.
+
+JOHNSTONE. What do you hear? I'm in this.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. I forgot Johnny and Mr. Fanshaw--there are certain
+things you mustn't talk about before innocent little boys!
+
+FANSHAW. You couldn't tell _us anything about Ned Fletcher_!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Laughing._] I don't want to! But I thought Marion was
+always going to marry Douglas Rhodes.
+
+KITTY. Oh, that's all off now. It's Ned Fletcher or nothing with
+Marion.
+
+ETHEL. [_Laughing_.] I believe she thinks she's going to reform him!
+[_All laugh._
+
+KITTY. There's one thing, he isn't after Marion's money.
+
+ETHEL. Is he so rich?
+
+JOHNSTONE. Oh, rotten! [KITTY _slaps_ JOHNSTONE.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Very well, do you know what I shall do? I shall take
+Douglas.
+
+ETHEL. [_Hastily._] Yes, catch his heart on the rebound; they say it's
+easier that way!
+
+JOHNSTONE. That's one on you, Mrs. Lorrimer. [_Party gag._]
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Oh, I'm not so very old, and have had two splendid
+husbands already. I don't think I have to bother about the easiest
+way.
+
+JOHNSTONE. Philopene, Ethel? That's one on _you_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Has it been your method, my dear, because if so I can't
+congratulate you on the result. You must look out for a stronger
+rebound next time! Try a divorced man; I hear they come back with a
+terrific force! I'll be generous; try one of mine. [_All laugh. As
+they stop laughing there is the sound of something heavy falling in
+the room above. The chandelier trembles slightly, the lustres sound.
+All four lift their heads and listen a moment. A short pause._
+
+KITTY. What was that!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. The servants probably, upstairs! [_Enter_ MARION _from
+ball-room, smiling at the table of people as she passes_.
+
+JOHNSTONE. [_As she comes._] Here's Miss Wolton.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. My dear Marion, pardon me for not rising, but I assure
+you I look much better sitting down! [MARION _stops by_ MRS. LORRIMER.
+
+JOHNSTONE. Not at all, Mrs. Lorrimer, they're awfully lovely!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Well, I'm sure they don't compare with yours.
+
+JOHNSTONE. Oh, I don't know, there are others. [MARION _goes down
+centre_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Marion, is Mr. Dawson here?
+
+MARION. No, he's in Boston.--Why?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Oh, nothing, only he's an unmarried man, so I thought
+I'd ask. [SERVANT _in ball-room takes away plates, and second_ SERVANT
+_passes ices_.
+
+MARION. [_To_ MRS. LORRIMER.] Why are you so late, Emily? [_Back to_
+MRS. LORRIMER.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. My little girl was seedy, and I couldn't get away until
+I saw her asleep comfortably. It's an awful care for a young woman, my
+dear, having a _posthumous_ child!
+
+MARION. A what?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. A _posthumous_ child!
+
+MARION. [_Laughing._] _How do you mean, Emily?_
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Why, born after it's father's divorce!
+
+MARION. Are you girls going to have coffee?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. No.
+
+ETHEL. Nor I.
+
+MARION. Very well, then; join us for another game-- [_She makes a
+movement of starting._] Unless you men want to smoke. In that case,
+take your coffee in the library, where you'll find cigarettes and
+other smoking materials.
+
+JOHNSTONE. [_Who has a cigarette in his mouth, and has been smoking
+all through the supper._] I say! Oughtn't I to have smoked here?
+
+MARION. [_Smiling._] No! [_She starts to go out through ball-room._
+
+JOHNSTONE. I beg your pardon. Well, any way it's an awfully lovely
+party.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Marion, is it true you're going to be divorced--I mean
+married?
+
+MARION. [_By doorway._] Married? I hope so, some day. [_Smiling, exits
+into ball-room._ JOHNSTONE _is eating ice_. MRS. LORRIMER _crosses to
+him_. KITTY _in front of table_. ETHEL _takes up lamb_. FANSHAW
+_exits._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Haven't you finished your ice, Johnny?
+
+JOHNSTONE. No. I like to squash mine all up, and eat it soft.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Johnny, who made your bow?
+
+JOHNSTONE. Mother. [KITTY _drives_ JOHNNY _out of room by hitting him
+with her ball_. MRS. LORRIMER _crosses to_ ETHEL _and takes lamb_.
+
+ETHEL. [_Who has looked back over her shoulder into the ball-room,
+goes up to arch_.] Mr. Fletcher has joined Marion.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Oh, that's why Marion wished us to hurry! She wanted
+this room for herself and Fletcher!
+
+ETHEL. _Probably._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Let's go--as if we were gone for good, and then stroll
+back _casually_ in a few minutes, and see how we find them!
+
+KITTY. Isn't that eavesdropping?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Don't be absurd! There isn't any such thing as
+eavesdropping nowadays. Everybody listens to everything they can, and
+everyone more or less knows they're being listened to.
+
+KITTY. But what good will it do?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Why, if we--come back and catch them with his arm
+around her, we can take it for granted they are engaged.
+
+ETHEL. I don't think that follows. I'm sure if I were engaged to every
+man I let-- [_She stops quickly. All laugh._
+
+KITTY. [_Laughing._] You gave yourself away that time, Ethel! [_They
+move out by door into ball-room. As they do so_, SERVANT _enters from
+right, and_ MARION _enters, meeting girls and_ MRS. LORRIMER.
+
+MARION. Going to dance?--
+
+GIRLS. Yes.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. No, play games. Kissing games. [_All laugh and
+exeunt._
+
+MARION. Oh, Mrs. Lorrimer! [_Enter_ FLETCHER.
+
+FLETCHER. Why did you run away?
+
+MARION. I was afraid if I didn't the servants would never get this
+room ready.
+
+FLETCHER. Have you a partner?
+
+MARION. No.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Pleased to be with her and yet embarrassed._] May I--will
+you--that is--won't you dance with me?
+
+MARION. Yes.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Near her._] I wonder why I feel so diffident with you. I
+think I never was diffident before! [_Smiling._
+
+MARION. [_Smiling._] No, you haven't that reputation.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Smiling apologetically, but humourously._] Dear me, I hope
+you don't know what my reputation isn't--or _is_.
+
+MARION. [_Seriously._] I don't judge a man by his reputation.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Involuntarily half under his breath, humourously._] Thank
+heaven! [MARION _looks at him, hearing him. There is a pause. She
+waits willingly for him to speak, hoping he will._] I've been a very
+bad fellow.
+
+MARION. Some of the best men in the world have begun that way.
+
+FLETCHER. They probably had some one to help--to believe in them.
+
+MARION. And haven't you?
+
+FLETCHER. Will you believe in me enough to-- [_Looks off in ball-room
+up a little_; MARION _follows. He loses his control and speaks
+passionately._] Don't you understand,--I love you-- [_He embraces her;
+she allows him. The embrace lasts a moment._] You can be my salvation!
+Will you be?
+
+MARION. [_In his arms, looking up at him._] I will--if I can--
+
+FLETCHER. [_Whose eyes never quite look into_ MARION'S, _loosening the
+embrace._] You will marry me?
+
+MARION. Yes. [_Kisses him, then quickly moves down right._
+
+FLETCHER. [_Following her. Not looking at her._] People say I'm a
+blackguard!
+
+MARION. People say a great many things that aren't true. What can a
+man do with all the world against him! "People" can force him into
+being as bad as they say he is.
+
+FLETCHER. Then you won't believe them.
+
+MARION. No, not if you deny what they say. [_He holds out his hand;
+she takes it. At this moment_, MRS. LORRIMER _and_ ETHEL _appear in
+ball-room, ostentatiously counting the chairs and making small
+calculation about the cotillion, but really watching slyly_ MARION
+_and_ FLETCHER. MARION _sees it and speaks to_ FLETCHER _quickly under
+her breath._] Don't move! Don't drop my hand, but shake it as if we'd
+been making a bet, and follow my lead! [_Aloud._] It's settled then!
+You take my bet?
+
+FLETCHER. [_Shaking her hand and then dropping it casually._ A box of
+cigars, against a box of gloves! [_Sotto voce._] What is it?
+
+MARION [_Sotto voce._] Mrs. Lorrimer in the next room watching us.
+[_Speaks in low voce satirically to_ FLETCHER _as if she were speaking
+to_ MRS. LORRIMER.] Oh, no, Emily! I am going to marry Mr. Fletcher,
+but _I_ intend to be the one to announce that fact, and not you. [MRS.
+LORRIMER _and_ ETHEL _turn. They see_ MARION _and_ FLETCHER _and
+pretend surprise; they remain in the ball-room._]
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_With trumpet._] Oh! Marion! are _you_ here?
+
+MARION. Ahem! [_With a quick, amused side glance to_ FLETCHER.] We've
+been watching you for some time; what was the matter with the chairs?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER [_Embarrassed._] Nothing--we were merely choosing
+places!
+
+ETHEL. They lead from the other end, don't they? [_Joining_ FLETCHER.
+
+MARION. Yes, you know Kitty is leading for me. [_Enter_ DOUGLAS. _He
+joins them._] Who are you dancing with, Douglas?
+
+DOUGLAS. No one; I'm stagging it.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER You don't mean to say, Marion, you have more men than
+women to-night!
+
+MARION. [_With mock pride._] Who says I don't know how to give a
+party?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER [_To_ DOUGLAS.] Damn it! I wish I hadn't said I'd dance
+with little Johnny, or I'd come to your rescue. [DOUGLAS, _secretly
+amused, bows his thanks._ ETHEL _and_ MARION _exchange an amused
+glance._
+
+ETHEL. [_To_ MARION.] Douglas ought to give Johnny a vote of thanks.
+
+MARION. Come, they are taking their places. [_A movement of all to go
+off._ DOUGLAS _touches_ FLETCHER _on the arm._
+
+DOUGLAS. [_To_ FLETCHER.] May I speak to you just a moment?
+
+FLETCHER. Certainly-- [_All go but_ MARION.] Excuse me one moment,
+Miss Wolton,--Rhodes wants a word with me. [MARION _starts slightly,
+and, turning quickly, looks questioningly at_ DOUGLAS. _He answers her
+gaze seriously and unflinchingly. She turns to_ FLETCHER.
+
+MARION. [_To_ FLETCHER.] No--I won't excuse you. [_Assuming a more or
+less coquettish air._] You must come with me at once. [FLETCHER _looks
+surprised, but moves as if to obey her_.
+
+DOUGLAS. But why won't you trust Mr. Fletcher with me? [FLETCHER
+_laughs amused_.
+
+MARION. [_Nonplussed for a moment; then she changes her mind._] I was
+only jesting. [_To_ FLETCHER.] But you won't-- [_To_ DOUGLAS, _looking
+at him meaningly and seriously._] --keep us waiting long, will you? I
+warn you, Mr. Fletcher, I shall let them begin without us. [_Exits
+through ball-room as_ FLETCHER _quickly kisses her hand._ DOUGLAS
+_waits till they are quite alone._ FLETCHER _moves down right_.
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Following. Quietly._] Are you going to ask Miss Wolton to
+marry you?
+
+FLETCHER. I am not.
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Momentary surprise--doubt, then relief--a sigh._] In that
+case I've nothing more to say; let's join the others. [_Both make a
+move to go._
+
+FLETCHER. [_Who cannot resist saying it._] You see, Rhodes, I _have_
+asked her already.
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Stops and, turning, faces_ FLETCHER, _whose back is toward
+audience._]
+
+FLETCHER. [_Turning leisurely._] About fifteen minutes ago--but I
+can't see what business it is of yours.
+
+DOUGLAS. I love her.
+
+FLETCHER. That's no news to anybody!
+
+DOUGLAS. And I don't intend she shall marry a-- [_He stops. Short
+pause._
+
+FLETCHER. What? Why don't you finish?
+
+DOUGLAS. [_More quietly._] A man like you.
+
+FLETCHER. Oh, I'm not so very unique; lots of girls run the risk of
+marrying a man like me!
+
+DOUGLAS. I suppose you told her she is more to you than any one in the
+world.
+
+FLETCHER. No. "Men like me" don't talk that rot. I put my arms around
+her-- [_Stops, interrupted by the movement of_ DOUGLAS, _expressive of
+rage, controlled instantaneously; he clenches his fists. Finishes with
+a half-smile at_ DOUGLAS.] And told her I loved her.
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Suppressed anger._] You _couldn't_ say she was more than
+any one else to you, because it would have been a lie!
+
+FLETCHER. [_Smiling._] You flatter me. [_Crosses to left._
+
+DOUGLAS. The one that is _most_ to _you_ is YOUR CHILD. [FLETCHER
+_starts; is surprised_.] You can't deny the child--
+
+FLETCHER. I "can!" I can deny anything.
+
+DOUGLAS. The lie could be proved to your face. In May, 1893, at Lenox,
+a young kindergarten teacher,--you blackguard, you!
+
+FLETCHER. [_A little angry._] Who told you that story?
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Sneers._] I'm not the only man who knows it! That sort of
+thing never lies buried!
+
+FLETCHER. The girl's all right now!
+
+DOUGLAS. Oh, I know, you sent her abroad, and pay for the child. Well,
+that's the mother's lookout, and not mine. But I don't believe she's
+the only case. One has only to look at your life now.--It was
+fortunate for you this winter that Mrs. Clipton's divorce trial didn't
+come off.
+
+FLETCHER. [_A little more angry. Back to_ DOUGLAS.] Still, what has
+all this to do with you, and I'll deny it all besides, if I feel like
+it, or need to.
+
+DOUGLAS. You know you're not fit to marry Marion Wolton!
+
+FLETCHER. I know I love her.
+
+DOUGLAS. For how long?
+
+FLETCHER. I can't say, but neither can you.--And besides, _she loves
+me_!
+
+DOUGLAS. Would she if she knew you?
+
+FLETCHER. [_Smilingly._] Oh, come, Rhodes, drop it! I don't care a
+damn what I have done. I'm going to marry her! I haven't made any
+bones about myself. I've told her I've been a bad lot!
+
+DOUGLAS. Oh, yes, I know, you've confessed probably to having been
+"fast;" that nearly always appeals to a woman, heaven knows why; I
+suppose it's the instinct for reformation in them. But how much of
+your life does that word "fast" convey to a pure girl like Marion?
+
+FLETCHER. [_Smiling._] Quite enough! [_Serious._] But if she did know
+all there was to be known, Love forgives a great deal.
+
+DOUGLAS. But not _everything_. There are certain things Marion would
+never accept. She would refuse to take the place that was the right of
+another.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Down to him._] Oh, that's your point, is it! Well, hunt
+out Jeannette Gros if you can; it'll do you no good! [_Crosses._
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Follows quickly. Angry._] You can't prove that, because
+it's _not true_!
+
+FLETCHER. [_Facing_ DOUGLAS. _Angry too._] I'll prove she had other
+lovers before me. Good God, man, you don't know what Marion Wolton's
+love means to me! I've never loved like this before! Why, if it were
+possible for me to treat her as I have--the other, I _couldn't_. I
+want to marry Marion Wolton--I _want_ to make _her my wife!_ and I
+_will!_ I've had all there can be got out of my old life, and I'm sick
+of it. Here's my chance at a new life, and do you think I'm going to
+give it up? No! [_Forgetting and raising his voice._] Do you hear me,
+No!!
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Softly._] Not so loud!
+
+FLETCHER. [_Lowered voice._] No! I'll fight for it with my last
+breath.
+
+DOUGLAS. Then I say again, you're a blackguard!
+
+FLETCHER. [_Laughs, turns back to audience._] What do you want to do,
+fight? You know we can't here. I give you liberty to say to her all
+you can against me.
+
+DOUGLAS. She won't believe me.
+
+FLETCHER. Exactly--she loves me--
+
+DOUGLAS. But there is one other I can tell the truth to, who may
+believe me.
+
+FLETCHER. Look out you don't make yourself ridiculous, going
+about--the jilted lover, trying to take away the character of the
+accepted man! [_Leisurely following him a little._
+
+DOUGLAS. I don't have to do any "going about!" You are well enough
+known in our world to keep most of our doors closed against you. Few
+people are as blind as the Woltons, and I will open _his_ eyes!
+
+FLETCHER. You'll tell her father?
+
+DOUGLAS. He is the one person she would listen to, and he can verify
+what I say.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Change of tone, showing he fears this._] Damn it! I mean
+to be a decent man.
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Goes close to him and looks straight in his face._] Then go
+to Jeannette Gros and marry her!
+
+FLETCHER. [_Angry again._] Go to H--. [_Change of tone._] You think if
+I'm out of the way you'll get her?
+
+DOUGLAS. She's told me she doesn't love me, and she proved to me that
+she won't believe the truth of you without extraordinary proof. There
+is only one person in the world who could naturally interfere and give
+her anything like that proof, and that's her father; and I shall tell
+him to-night, before I leave this house, before you can announce your
+engagement!
+
+FLETCHER. With Miss Wolton's permission, I will announce our
+engagement to-night, in spite of you, and her father. [_Music stops.
+Enter_ MRS. LORRIMER, _with a favour, lamb and trumpet_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Oh, here you men are! If you think this is going to be
+allowed, you are very much mistaken! What do men think we ask them to
+parties for? Eh? Anyway, a cotillion is a leap-year dance; on such an
+occasion you are our natural prey! Come, sir! [_Pretending to blow
+trumpet._
+
+DOUGLAS. No. [_Smiling apologetically._] Postpone my pleasure till a
+little later in the evening, will you? Don't be angry with me; I want
+to have a few words with Mr. Wolton,--then I'll come and give _all_ my
+favours to you!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. That sounds attractive; I'll let you off. [_Makes lamby
+squeak. Smiling, turns to_ FLETCHER.] But I won't let you off.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Smiling._] _Don't_, please! I'm very happy to be your
+_consolation_ prize. [_Takes lamb. Music._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. I'm a dangerous woman to make that remark to. You'd
+better be careful, or I might take you literally at your word.
+
+FLETCHER. Oh, if you only would! [_Pulls lamb's head._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. What a charming speech. [_She and_ FLETCHER _go into
+ball-room and off._ FLETCHER _makes lamb squeak_. MRS. WOLTON, _her
+arms full of a set of gay favours, crosses the ball-room_; DOUGLAS
+_sees her and takes a step or two towards her, then waits till she has
+finished speaking to the girl_. MRS. WOLTON _turns, and_ DOUGLAS
+_addresses her_.
+
+DOUGLAS. Mrs. Wolton, is Mr. Wolton in the ball-room?
+
+MRS. WOLTON. No, I think he's in the smoking-room.--Aren't you going
+to dance? [_Coming into room._
+
+DOUGLAS. Not just yet--later-- [_Half bows apologetically. At the same
+moment, the music swells and the procession of dancers, in couples,
+dance in five or six couples into the front room, the line curving
+away to right to suggest that there are very many more couples in the
+ball-room out of sight. As they dance, they are laughing and
+talking--the first couple turns, the other couples making bridges
+under which the first couple goes, and passes into ball-room and off,
+followed by each couple the same. Music softens._ MRS. WOLTON _has
+drawn to one side, when the dancers came in. In this dance, scarfs are
+used by dancers._
+
+DOUGLAS. Mr. Wolton there?
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_Mildly surprised._] He?
+
+DOUGLAS. I want to see Mr. Wolton very much to-night--_now_. It is a
+matter of the greatest importance. [_Enter_ SERVANT _from ball-room._
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Where is Mr. Wolton, Howes?
+
+SERVANT. He has gone to his bedroom, m'm. [_Crosses behind_ MRS.
+WOLTON.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_Surprised, but not too much so._] What?
+
+SERVANT. He said he was on no account to be disturbed until the party
+was over.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_A little anxious._] Was he ill?
+
+SERVANT. He didn't appear so, m'm.
+
+DOUGLAS. [_To_ MRS. WOLTON.] Was he feeling ill to-night?
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_With a relieved voice, showing no anxiety._] No, not at
+all. He was in splendid spirits. Probably he was bored and thought he
+would be quieter upstairs.
+
+DOUGLAS. I don't want to be offensive, but I must, if possible, see
+him to-night.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_Speaking very casually._] Howes, you might go and say
+to Mr. Wolton, Mr. Rhodes wants to speak to him about something very
+urgent. [_To_ DOUGLAS.] If he doesn't want to come down stairs again,
+he can send for you to come up.
+
+SERVANT. Beg pardon, m'm, but he was so very strong with me that I
+shouldn't under any circumstances go to him, I don't quite like
+to-- [_He hesitates, embarrassed at having not to obey_ MRS. WOLTON'S
+_request at once._
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Really, he made such a point of it! Oh, very well then,
+you needn't go, Howes. [_With a nod of dismissal._ SERVANT _exits into
+ball-room and off_.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_Lowers her voice so that_ HOWES _sha'n't hear her, as
+he goes._] Mr. Wolton is rather hard on the servants if they fail to
+obey his orders to the letter. I'll go myself and see if he won't see
+you. [_Enter_ MARION _from ball-room, as her mother starts._
+
+MARION. Mother, where are you going with the favours?
+
+MRS. WOLTON. To your father for a moment.
+
+MARION. But you can't; we need them. [_Crosses. Music stops._] I'll go
+for you. [MRS. WOLTON _exits centre as_ MARION _exits right_. FANSHAW
+_appears from ball-room, enters_.
+
+FANSHAW. Come on, Rhodes, we need your help. [_Seizing_ DOUGLAS.
+
+DOUGLAS. How long will it take?
+
+FANSHAW. Oh, only a couple of minutes. [RHODES _and_ FANSHAW _exeunt,
+followed by_ MRS. WOLTON.
+
+TRIMMINS. [_Off stage._] Mrs. Lorrimer! Mrs. Lorrimer! [_Enters._] Oh,
+Mrs. Lorrimer, won't you dance through with me? [TRIMMINS _does this_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Do excuse me. [_Adds a little sotto voce and
+coaxingly._] And as a favour to me, go and take out poor Susie
+Woodruff. You know it's only "snap the whip" figure, so it won't make
+much difference to you if she is a bit heavy. [TRIMMINS _makes a bored
+grimace, and goes up stage_. MRS. LORRIMER _catches him_.] Yes, to
+please me! It isn't as if it were a waltz and you had to get her
+around all by yourself!
+
+TRIMMINS. [_Smiling._] Very well, to please you! But Susan Woodruff,
+she's the limit. [_Doubles up his arm and feels his muscles meaningly,
+and exits._ MARION _enters tragically. White, frightened, she staggers
+quickly into the room and, stopping for a second, gasps in a horrified
+whisper._
+
+MARION. Mother! [_Crosses to arch._] Mother!! [_Music, "Won't You Come
+And Play With Me." Singing heard._ MARION _turns, frightened, goes
+down. Her mother comes to her. They meet._
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_Frightened, puzzled._] What is it? What's the matter?
+
+MARION. [_For a moment, can't speak. She opens her lips, but the words
+refuse to come. Then she manages to gasp out:_] Father!
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Your father--what? [_Starts and looks at her
+questioningly, frightened, as the music swells, and is joined in by
+the voices of the dancers._
+
+MARION. He is dead!
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Dead!! [_She makes a movement towards door._ MARION
+_stops her_.
+
+MARION. It's too horrible!--he has killed himself-- [_Adds the latter
+in lower tone, almost fainting. The dancers appear in the ball-room,
+hand in hand in single file, led by_ FANSHAW, _and dance wildly
+in--all singing "Won't You Come And Play With Me." They make a big
+circle about_ MARION _and_ MRS. WOLTON, _dancing out through the
+ball-room, the music and singing becoming fainter as they disappear.
+The two women are left alone. Re-enter_ DOUGLAS _from ball-room._
+
+DOUGLAS. May I go up? [_He sees the condition of_ MRS. WOLTON _and the
+expression of_ MARION.] Is your mother ill?
+
+MARION. Help me take her to--my room--I will tell you. [_Dancers cross
+as they exit. Music changes to waltz. All go out._ MRS. LORRIMER, _on
+end, drops their hands._ MRS. WOLTON _and_ MARION _shudder as they go
+out_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Where is Mr. Rhodes?
+
+FANSHAW. He was here a moment ago. [_Enter_ SERVANT. _He has his
+overcoat on and carries his hat._ MRS. LORRIMER _turns_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Have you seen Mr. Rhodes?
+
+SERVANT. He is just coming, m'm.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Looking at_ SERVANT _and seeing something in his face
+and manner._ SERVANT _crosses hurriedly_.] Is there anything the
+matter? Where is Mrs. Wolton? [DOUGLAS _enters before_ SERVANT _can
+answer_. MRS. LORRIMER _at once turns to him, ignoring_ SERVANT, _who,
+on a run, bows slightly and exits_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_To_ DOUGLAS.] What's the matter?
+
+DOUGLAS. A most terrible thing has happened.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. What?
+
+DOUGLAS. You must help me to get rid of all the guests!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. To get rid-- [_Interrupted._
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Interrupting._] Mr. Wolton has committed suicide.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Starts and shudders; speaks very rapidly._] Mr.--how
+awful! What are you going to do? You can't tell the people now. What
+in the world did the man mean by not waiting till the party was over!
+If it isn't like you men! Your own comfort before anybody
+else's.--Well--the only thing is to pretend it hasn't happened at
+all--make some excuse for Marion and her mother--the guests needn't
+know anything about it,--and finish the party!
+
+DOUGLAS. Mrs. Lorrimer! Impossible!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. It would be sort of uncomfortable for us who know,
+[_She adds sincerely._] --and the poor Woltons, of course,--it is awful
+for them.
+
+DOUGLAS. I thought if you spoke to Fanshaw and stopped the cotillion
+and told a few of the guests-- [_Interrupted._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Aghast._] What! The truth?
+
+DOUGLAS. No, say Mr. Wolton has been taken suddenly and most
+dangerously ill--
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_To_ DOUGLAS.] Very well, I'll do what I can.
+
+DOUGLAS. Stop! [_Music stops._ DOUGLAS _goes to doorway into ball-room
+and draws the heavy portières, shutting out the ball-room._ MARION
+_enters_.
+
+MARION. [_To_ DOUGLAS, _who stays at curtains._] They are going?
+
+DOUGLAS. Yes.
+
+MARION. They know?
+
+DOUGLAS. Not the truth!
+
+MARION. Thank you.
+
+DOUGLAS. Mrs. Lorrimer is arranging it. [FOOTMAN _off stage calls_
+"43." _The numbers are repeated in another voice and farther away. A
+moment's pause._
+
+DOUGLAS. I wish I could comfort you.
+
+MARION. [_Smiling strainedly at him._] Thank you. [FOOTMAN _calls_
+"56!--56!--89!" "32!--32!--61!" DOUGLAS _holds back the portière into
+ball-room_.
+
+MARION. I'd better go back to mother. How good you are to us--believe
+me, I appreciate it all, Douglas, _all_. [_Enter_ DAWSON _hurriedly.
+Shows excitement and emotion. At the same moment enter_ FLETCHER _from
+ball-room at back. The two men speak the word_ "Marion" _at the same
+time, and turning, see each other._ DAWSON _also observes the presence
+of_ DOUGLAS.] Uncle Fred! [_Crosses to him._ FOOTMAN _calls_ "115!"]
+[_To_ DAWSON.] You know!
+
+FLETCHER. [_Gently, persuasively joining her._] Why didn't you send
+for me at once?
+
+DAWSON. Gentlemen, you will forgive me if I thank you both and say the
+guests are leaving. The family would like to be alone.
+
+DOUGLAS. I understand, but if I can be of any use?
+
+DAWSON. Thank you.
+
+DOUGLAS. Shall we go, Fletcher?
+
+FLETCHER. Good-night, Rhodes. [_Politely._] My place is here; it is my
+privilege to stay by Miss Wolton. [DAWSON _looks up, surprised_.
+RHODES _looks angry_. FLETCHER _continues, to_ MARION.] May I speak?
+[MARION _bows her head in assent_.] Mr. Dawson, your niece has
+promised to-night to be my wife. At such a terrible moment as this, I
+claim the right of membership of the family, to be with you and help
+all I can. You will accept my offices? [_Holding out his hand._
+
+DAWSON. [_Shaking his hand._] Certainly. You have won a wife in a
+thousand. But you may be called on to do more perhaps than you
+imagine.
+
+FLETCHER. I am entirely at your service.
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Near doorway back, to all. At curtains, leaves curtains
+open._] Good-night! [_All turn slightly._ DOUGLAS _bows and exits_.
+FLETCHER _going to_ MARION.
+
+DAWSON. [_Watching them._] Thank God! His money will save them!
+[SERVANT _enters; speaks softly to_ DAWSON.
+
+SERVANT. Mr. Dawson! [DAWSON _starts, nods to_ SERVANT, _who holds
+door open_.
+
+DAWSON. I'm coming. [_Slowly, seriously, meaningly._] Fletcher, I want
+a long talk with you to-night before you go.
+
+FLETCHER. Very well, sir. [DAWSON _sighs heavily and exits_. SERVANT
+_leaves door open. The two_, MARION _and_ FLETCHER, _hear the door
+shut behind them, and make a movement; they realize they are alone. A
+heavy front door slams. Lights out. There is silence. Taking_ MARION
+_in his arms._] My poor little girl!--My poor little girl!--Cry, for
+God's sake, cry!
+
+MARION. [_With an outburst._] Oh, it is so horrible! [_She sobs loud
+and hysterically in_ FLETCHER'S _arms, her own arms about his
+neck._]--so--horrible--
+
+
+CURTAIN.
+
+
+
+
+ACT II.
+
+
+    SCENE. _A church. At left are the steps leading to the
+    chancel and the chancel rails. Beyond the rails are palms,
+    grouped, which conceal the altar. Past the chancel, up stage,
+    is the exit into the choir. Down stage is the exit to the
+    vestry and robing-room. To right of centre begin the pews of
+    the church on each side of a broad centre aisle. The stage is
+    set a little diagonally so that the aisle runs from upper
+    right toward centre stage. This will make a row or two more
+    pews above the aisle than below it. White satin ribbons are
+    stretched above the aisle on each side, across the entrances
+    to the pews; this ribbon the ushers lift aside as they seat
+    the guests. The exit right is made by the centre aisle._
+
+    DISCOVERED. _Three ushers_, JOHNSTONE, FANSHAW _and_
+    TRIMMINS. JOHNSTONE _is sitting in the first pew_, FANSHAW
+    _standing outside and leaning over its front, talking to_
+    JOHNSTONE. TRIMMINS _is leaning with his back against the
+    side of the first pew across the aisle up stage. They are
+    dressed in long frock coats, with buttonholes of white
+    orchids. They are engaged in putting on white kid gloves._
+
+FANSHAW. Is Fletcher in the vestry yet?
+
+JOHNSTONE. Heavens, no! How long do you want him to hang around? But
+he won't be late; he's serious this time.
+
+TRIMMINS. I'm glad to hear it, because he's going to marry a splendid
+girl. [_A short pause._] I hope to goodness he really loves her.
+
+JOHNSTONE. Oh, he does, I'm sure. I'll bet you, if you like; will you
+put up a silk hat on it? [_Rises._
+
+FANSHAW. Yes, I'll take you!
+
+JOHNSTONE. All right. [_Exit from pew. Holding out his hand which_
+FANSHAW _takes, and they shake._] Done!
+
+FANSHAW. And I hope I'll lose. And if I were he, I'd tremble in my
+boots with a past like his, and the present getting so conspicuously
+favourable.
+
+JOHNSTONE. Oh, I don't believe in your boomerang pasts!
+
+FANSHAW. And I don't believe Fletcher can have one single memory of
+his own which he wouldn't rather forget since he has come to care for
+Marion Wolton. [_Crosses to pew._ JOHNSTONE _crosses_.
+
+TRIMMINS. Yes, but don't you think a fellow can sow his wild oats and
+be done with them, and become a good man and an honest citizen.
+
+FANSHAW. Of course I do, else, good Lord, where'd I be! We can't all
+be ideal chaps like Douglas Rhodes. But there are oats and _oats_, and
+Fletcher's are--oats!
+
+JOHNSTONE. Well, he's sorry for them. [_Crosses to pew. As_ DOUGLAS
+RHODES _enters_, TRIMMINS _exits._ RHODES _is also dressed as an usher
+and comes up the aisle in time to hear_ JOHNSTONE'S _speech, as he
+joins them._
+
+DOUGLAS. Who's sorry for what?
+
+JOHNSTONE. Fletcher for--for--for--everything!
+
+DOUGLAS. Hum-- [_He goes up left._
+
+FANSHAW. If he's _honestly_ sorry, he's no business marrying Marion
+Wolton.
+
+JOHNSTONE. Why not?
+
+FANSHAW. He has a debt to be paid. He can't wash his hands of the kind
+of things he's done; if he were in earnest in regretting his old life,
+he would do something to make up for it.
+
+JOHNSTONE. Well, isn't he? He's going to marry a nice girl and settle
+down.
+
+FANSHAW. If he were in earnest he'd marry, instead, one of at least
+two girls I know of--not this one.
+
+JOHNSTONE. Oh, come, there's no reason why he should do a quixotic
+thing like that, he has a future before him.
+
+FANSHAW. He has their futures before him.
+
+JOHNSTONE. Don't preach. Why should he be dragged down--
+
+FANSHAW. [_Interrupting._] To where he dragged them?
+
+JOHNSTONE. Exactly; Fletcher's no fool. And then there's Mr. Dawson.
+He swears by Fletcher now; they're regular pals.
+
+FANSHAW. Ever since Mr. Wolton's death. I don't understand it.
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Coming down left._] Yes, Dawson really believes in
+Fletcher--well, perhaps he's right. There must be some good in
+everybody, and perhaps Fletcher is just beginning to come to the top.
+Let's hope so.
+
+JOHNSTONE. Hang it, fellows, brace up anyway. This isn't a funeral,
+you know. Hello, there's the organ. [_Organ music begins, and
+selections appropriate and usual on such occasions continue
+uninterruptedly._] The people will be coming now. [_He exits._] _Two
+other ushers make a movement, throwing off a certain lazy, nonchalant
+manner, and getting themselves into more dignified readiness for their
+duties._
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Rises, crosses to left._] I tell you, Fanshaw, this is a
+hard day for me.
+
+FANSHAW. But I'm glad you decided to come. It would have made all
+sorts of gossip if you hadn't.
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Sighs._] Yes. Anyway, as it's got to be now, we must all
+make the best of it.
+
+FANSHAW. No one besides me dreams your life is still wrapped up in
+Marion Wolton.
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Embarrassed, but pleasantly. With a half laugh._] And I
+suppose that ought to be some consolation, but I don't know as it is.
+However, I shall never be able to thank you enough for the comfort
+you've been. A man must have some one to talk to. And it isn't every
+fellow who can have a friend like you.
+
+FANSHAW. [_Embarrassed, but pleased._] Shut up! Here's Fletcher's
+mother; she came on from Richmond yesterday. [_He goes down aisle to
+meet her._] And behind are those girls they want put into the front
+pews. [FANSHAW _and_ DOUGLAS _exeunt. At the same moment that the two
+disappear_, MRS. FLETCHER _appears on the arm of the third usher_,
+TRIMMINS.
+
+MRS. FLETCHER. [_To_ TRIMMINS, _as he shows her into the first pew
+left._] You know Mrs. Wolton, of course?
+
+TRIMMINS. The bride's mother? [_Bows in affirmative._
+
+MRS. FLETCHER. When she comes, won't you show her in here with me,
+please? [TRIMMINS _bows and exits_. MRS. FLETCHER _sits, then kneels a
+moment, and then reseats herself with a touch to the trimming of the
+waist of her gown somewhere. Enter_ FANSHAW _with_ MRS. LORRIMER,
+JOHNSTONE _with_ KITTY, _and_ TRIMMINS _with_ ETHEL; _ladies outside.
+Ushers exeunt as soon as guests are seated._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_On being shown into the first pew down stage._] Is
+this the farthest front you can seat us? [_In a dissatisfied tone._
+
+FANSHAW. [_Goes off right._] This is the _front_ pew.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Laughing._] Of course, so it is. How silly of me!
+[_She passes to the end of the pew nearest to the audience._
+
+KITTY. [_As she follows into the pew, to_ JOHNSTONE.] Are we late?
+
+JOHNSTONE. [_Off left._] No, you're awfully early. [TRIMMINS _off
+right_.
+
+ETHEL. [_Following into pew._] Oh, I say, girls. Isn't that a shame,
+we're early. [_The three women are standing in the pew; they all turn
+around to glance back into the church, which is supposed to be filling
+with guests, every once in a while some one being seated by an usher
+in one of the pews visible to the audience. After a glance round, the
+three sit down._] What do you think of Douglas Rhodes being an usher?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Oh, my dear, it doesn't take these men long to get over
+a hopeless passion!
+
+KITTY. If he is over it.
+
+GERTRUDE. Of course he's over it, or he wouldn't be here, would he?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Every time I've tried to make love to him, he has
+seemed to me awfully in love with her still. [_Laugh. Enter guests._
+
+KITTY. I was wondering this morning where in the world Marion met Mr.
+Fletcher?
+
+ETHEL. Perhaps it was at that Christian thing-a-may-gig she's
+interested in.
+
+KITTY. You mean the Young Men's Christian Association?
+
+ETHEL. Yes, I'd bet on it's being the Young Men's. [_Laughs._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Oh, my dear, you know he isn't that sort of a man at
+all. He's much more my style!
+
+KITTY. Well, you know none of us ever met him till he began to go to
+the Woltons. [_Enter ushers and guests. A new selection is started on
+the organ and all half rise and turn, but turn back again at once into
+their places complacently._
+
+ETHEL. I think Marion's been getting to be a perfect stick anyway,
+these last few years, with all the plain covered books she reads and
+all her "university settlement" stuff in the slums, and her
+working-girls' clubs and things. But that makes it all the funnier for
+her to marry a man she's really not known very long, don't you think
+so?
+
+GERTRUDE. Where did he come from anyway?
+
+ETHEL. Everywhere--which you know is as good as nowhere. He's that
+sort of a man.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Oh, no, his family comes from Virginia. And he's a
+Harvard man. [_Enter_ TRIMMINS _with guest to pew._] Was in the
+fastest set there, so he must have some position! [_Laughs._
+
+ETHEL. And he's rich.
+
+KITTY. But Marion wouldn't marry for money.
+
+ETHEL. Then why is she marrying him?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. I don't know. I think she must be in love with him.
+
+ETHEL. [_With a laugh._] Ha! And then everyone says she's so sensible!
+[_Door slams. Another different selection is started on the organ and
+a door is shut off stage. The three women all half rise and turn
+again._
+
+KITTY. Here they come!
+
+GERTRUDE. No, not yet. [_The three sit again with a murmur of
+disappointment._
+
+GERTRUDE. Well. I only hope Marion will be happy,--she's taught so
+many others how to enjoy the best of life.
+
+ETHEL. I don't see how you can sympathize with her in her
+philanthropic fads! I believe in being charitable, but there's a right
+and a wrong way!
+
+KITTY. [_Quietly._] Yes, I don't suppose there's a fashionable
+subscription list in town that hasn't your name on it.
+
+ETHEL. _Not one!_ And as near the top as I can get.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Leaning over to speak to_ ETHEL.] I agree with you! I
+went down to one of Marion's working women's evening meetings--and,
+really, I was bored to death.
+
+ETHEL. Isn't the church trimmed horribly; looks as if they did it
+themselves. It would be just like Marion to have some silly sentiment
+about it. [_Organ stops._
+
+KITTY. [_Strongly._] I like Marion for her sentiment. I only hope she
+isn't marrying Fletcher because of it, in the hope that she will make
+his life, and perhaps have to spoil her own.
+
+BLANCHE. [_Leaning over and speaking to the three women in front._]
+Doesn't the church look lovely!
+
+ETHEL. [_Who said it looked horridly._] Perfectly lovely!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Girls, who is that doddy looking creature?
+
+ALL. [_Turning and looking back into the church._] Where?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. On the left-hand side of the aisle with a last winter's
+coat, don't you see, with the huge sleeves!
+
+ETHEL. Oh, yes, with the cheap fur trimming and the mangy muff--who is
+it?
+
+BLANCHE. Oh, that! It's one of the groom's country relatives.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. She looks it. The kind that gets cards _only_ to the
+church. [_All laugh. They rise again, excitedly, showing an increase
+of excitement over the first time they rose, and looking back._
+
+ETHEL. Are they coming?
+
+BLANCHE. No-- [_General murmur of disappointment._] It's the bride's
+mother. [_All sit again._ MRS. WOLTON _enters on the arm of_ DOUGLAS.
+_She is very handsomely dressed in black velvet and white lace. She is
+shown into the pew with_ MRS. FLETCHER. _They exchange greetings._
+DOUGLAS _exits, at the same time the_ CLERGYMAN _enters behind the
+chancel rail and goes back behind the palms, &c. Meanwhile the
+following dialogue is taking place._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Leaning over._] You mean how it doesn't.
+
+KITTY. [_Half turning to look back._] Susie Printly's Baltimore cousin
+has just come in--do you think she's a beauty?
+
+ETHEL. You mean that _awfully_ blonde girl.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Laughingly._] Yes, that's she. Fifty cents the small
+bottle, seventy-five the larger size! [_All three laugh. Short pause._
+
+ETHEL. I suppose you've heard she's engaged?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. No, to whom?
+
+ETHEL. Oh, only an American. [_Pause._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Weddings always give me a homesick feeling. I like them
+so.
+
+KITTY. Well, you've had your share of them, you know.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Not at all. I've only been married _twice_. Do you know
+who I have my eyes on now?
+
+KITTY. No, who is it?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. _Mr. Dawson!_
+
+ETHEL. What?
+
+KITTY. You're serious ... to marry him.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Yes! Everyone will tell you he's one of the best men in
+the world.
+
+ETHEL. But my dear, that's a change for you! How'll you ever get him
+into the divorce court?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Nonsense! I don't want to. Haven't you heard ... my
+house in Dakota's for sale. I don't belong to the Divorce Club any
+more ... the membership is getting entirely too mixed! [_They look
+back into the church at the people._ MRS. WOLTON _leans over to_ MRS.
+FLETCHER.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. I am so nervous I could almost cry out! Oh, I shall be so
+relieved ... really, I can't tell you ... when the ceremony's over.
+[_Organ. Wedding march._ FLETCHER _and his groomsman enter in front of
+the chancel rails. Guests all rise, showing excitement and turning
+half-way face off the stage, looking down the centre aisle._ MRS.
+WOLTON _and_ MRS. FLETCHER _stand facing the altar._ MRS. FLETCHER
+_takes_ MRS. WOLTON'S _arm affectionately and holds it tight in
+friendly sympathy. The faint sound is heard of boys' and men's voices
+singing with the organ the wedding hymn. All watch off the stage, as
+if following the slow movement of a procession coming up the aisle.
+Meanwhile the following dialogue occurs._
+
+ETHEL. The Trimmins boys are the second ushers.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Which is the one you were engaged to?
+
+ETHEL. I forget, I've flirted with them both so long, but I think it's
+the right hand one! [_The head of the wedding procession appears. The
+choristers singing, followed by the six ushers_, DOUGLAS _and_ FANSHAW
+_leading, followed by four bridesmaids. The bride enters, leaning on
+the arm of_ MR. DAWSON; _the choristers exit, and continue singing off
+stage softly until time indicated for them to stop. The bridesmaids
+and ushers take their places, grouped properly about the chancel
+steps._ MARION _stands at the centre of chancel rail, where she is
+joined by_ FLETCHER, _the groomsmen standing to one side of him._
+DAWSON _stands on the opposite side of_ MARION. _The_ CLERGYMAN _has
+come forward and stands facing them on the other side of the chancel
+railing. The guests open their prayer-books with a flutter of the
+leaves._ MARION _gives bouquet to_ DAWSON. _Music stops for a
+moment._]
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Look! do you see how charming Mr. Dawson appears by the
+chancel rails. I never saw him in a more becoming place, and if it's a
+_possible_ thing I shall make a rendezvous to _meet_ him there one
+day! [_Music begins again softly, and accompanies the service. At
+first it is heard quite distinctly while the_ CLERGYMAN _is going
+through, unheard, the first part of the marriage ceremony. A short
+pause in the dialogue._
+
+ETHEL. [_Whispers to_ KITTY _and_ MRS. LORRIMER.] How composed she is.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Whispering back._] One would think she was a widow! I
+couldn't do better myself! [_A short pause in the dialogue._ CLERGYMAN
+_looks up and raises his voice a little, addressing the congregation
+in the church ... but not too loud so as to be too evident._
+
+CLERGYMAN. "If any man ... [_A door is shut heavily off stage. At
+sound of door slam_, DOUGLAS _exits and returns after_ JEANNETTE'S
+_entrance, going directly to_ MRS. WOLTON, _who seems overcome._] can
+show just cause why these two persons should not lawfully be joined
+together ... [_A commotion among the guests, who turn away from the
+altar, to look back into the church._] ... let him now speak. [DOUGLAS
+_goes top of aisle, to block the passage._] or else hereafter forever
+hold his peace...."
+
+JEANNETTE _enters, going to the foot of the chancel steps, cries_
+"Stop!" _She is a young and attractive looking woman, fashionably, but
+quietly dressed. All in the church are stunned. The groom, turning,
+sees her, and starts, but controls himself, glaring at_ JEANNETTE.
+MARION _gazes in terror and horror at her; her bouquet drops unnoticed
+by her_. MRS. WOLTON _starts to leave her pew, but is held back and
+persuaded by MRS. FLETCHER to remain quietly where she is._ MR. DAWSON
+_steps down one step toward_ JEANNETTE.
+
+DAWSON. [_To_ JEANNETTE.] Who are you?
+
+JEANNETTE. [_With a gesture toward_ FLETCHER.] _Ask him!_
+
+DAWSON. What right have you to interrupt this ceremony?
+
+JEANNETTE. [_With a gesture as before._] _Ask him!_
+
+FLETCHER. She has no right! [JEANNETTE _makes an exclamation of denial
+aloud_.
+
+MARION. Swear that, Ned, swear it to me before this altar.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Hesitates a moment._] I swear it.
+
+MARION. [_To_ CLERGYMAN.] Go on with the ceremony. [DAWSON _steps back
+to his place. The_ CLERGYMAN _takes up his prayer-book._ JEANNETTE
+_comes up one of the chancel steps_.
+
+JEANNETTE. Stop!
+
+FLETCHER. Is there no one here to put this woman out? [_He speaks to
+the groomsman._ DAWSON _speaks to_ FANSHAW, _who exits, and
+immediately after the music ceases. Meanwhile the following dialogue._
+
+KITTY. Isn't this perfectly awful! I'm going! [_Going._
+
+ETHEL. I'm not. I'm going to stay.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. There may be something we can do. [KITTY _and_ GERTRUDE
+_exeunt with several of the other guests._
+
+CLERGYMAN. [_To_ JEANNETTE.] Can you show any reason why this marriage
+should not ... [_Interrupted._
+
+JEANNETTE. [_Interrupting._] I can.
+
+CLERGYMAN. Then do so.
+
+JEANNETTE. I will. [_She exits quickly._ MRS. WOLTON _goes to the two
+bridesmaids up stage, who at the same time are joined by the two
+bridesmaids down stage. Guests go out._
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_As she goes._] Henry! [DAWSON _joins them._] Take them
+into the choir-rooms, please. [_She motions off stage._ DAWSON _with
+bouquet exits. Maids exeunt. As they go_, MRS. WOLTON _and_ DOUGLAS
+_meet and speak. The_ CLERGYMAN _has been speaking to_ MARION. _Ushers
+urge guests to leave and exeunt with guests after_ JEANNETTE
+_returns._
+
+FLETCHER. [_To_ CLERGYMAN.] I say that woman _cannot stop_ this
+ceremony. Go on!
+
+MARION. [_To_ CLERGYMAN.] You heard him give me his word ... go on.
+
+CLERGYMAN. I am very sorry, but the church does not allow me to. I
+must give her the chance to prove herself. [FLETCHER _speaks to his
+groomsman_, JOHNSTONE, _who exits into vestry. At the same time_
+JEANNETTE _re-enters, bringing by the hand a small child_, EDWARD,
+_with her. She leads him straight to the foot of the chancel steps,
+and, pointing to_ FLETCHER, _speaks. All through the rest of this
+scene, the child keeps hold of the skirts of the mother ... standing
+close to her side._
+
+JEANNETTE. This is that man's child ... and mine. [MRS. LORRIMER
+_exits; also_ ETHEL. _Re-enter_ DAWSON _without bouquet._ FLETCHER
+_speaks to the_ CLERGYMAN. MRS. FLETCHER _leaves the pew and joins_
+MRS. WOLTON. DOUGLAS _joins_ MRS. LORRIMER, _and all the guests and
+ushers leave the church quietly._ MARION _starts to go to_ MRS.
+WOLTON.
+
+MARION. Mother!
+
+JEANNETTE. [_Turning and facing_ MARION.] Ah!... you go to _her_, in
+what must be the greatest sorrow of your life ... well, so will he ...
+[_With her arms around the child._] come to me when he begins to
+understand, and _that's_ why I am here.
+
+FLETCHER. [_To_ CLERGYMAN.] Ask her for proofs! She won't have them!
+It is a question of her word or mine, and surely there can be no such
+question, when the woman is that sort of thing! [_Turns to_ MARION.]
+Marion! [_The_ CLERGYMAN _goes to_ JEANNETTE, _up stage, with whom he
+talks._ MARION _joins_ FLETCHER, _and they come down the steps, but
+she does not look at him._ MRS. WOLTON _starts to go to_ MARION.
+FLETCHER _stops her._
+
+FLETCHER. [_To_ MRS. WOLTON.] No. I wish to speak to Marion alone.
+[MRS. WOLTON _and_ MRS. FLETCHER _speak together up stage._ MRS.
+WOLTON, _turning back, faints._ DAWSON _and_ MRS. FLETCHER _take her
+out._
+
+FLETCHER. [_To_ MARION.] Do you despise me?
+
+MARION. I can't ... I love you.
+
+FLETCHER. I didn't deceive you, did I? You will remember I confessed
+that before we met my life had not been fit to be lived in the same
+world with you.
+
+MARION. I know, but I didn't imagine anything so bad as this.
+
+FLETCHER. Yes, I realize that now, as it is only since I have known
+you that I have realized how low I was. Yet, Marion, this sort of
+thing exists all around us; I am not the only one ... [_Interrupted._
+
+MARION. [_Interrupting._] _Don't_--don't try to excuse it.
+
+FLETCHER. At any rate ... it was before I knew you.
+
+MARION. [_Looking up in his face for the first time, slowly._] Since
+you've known me have you been good and honest?
+
+FLETCHER. [_Without any hesitation, looks back at her, honestly._]
+Yes. [_They hold this position for a moment._ CLERGYMAN _leaves_
+JEANNETTE. _She speaks after him, following._
+
+JEANNETTE. This is not _legal_ proof, you say?
+
+CLERGYMAN. It is not sufficient.
+
+JEANNETTE. But it's moral proof. [MARION _turns and goes back to her
+place ... motions_ FLETCHER _to follow. He does so but almost
+timidly._ CLERGYMAN _turns from_ JEANNETTE.] Listen! So long as he
+remains as he is, there's a chance that the world won't always be able
+to fling my boy's shame in his face. And I tell you, sir, the agony
+she would suffer now is nothing ... _nothing_ to what her life with
+him would be. And think what it is to ... [_Her emotion racks her._]
+watch your child, your own flesh and blood, day and night, all its
+life, terror-stricken ... [_She controls her emotions._] lest you find
+some trace of his father in him!
+
+MARION. [_Turns to_ CLERGYMAN.] We are waiting.
+
+CLERGYMAN. But ... [_Interrupted._
+
+MARION. [_Interrupting._] I love him; I am not willing to give him up
+for that woman!
+
+CLERGYMAN. But she swears a compact of marriage was made.
+
+MARION. Has she proofs? [FLETCHER _glares at_ JEANNETTE; _his muscles
+grow rigid_.
+
+CLERGYMAN. _No._ [FLETCHER _relaxes_.
+
+MARION. Very well,--I have his word against hers,--that is enough.
+
+CLERGYMAN. [_To_ FLETCHER.] But I believe you do not deny the child?
+
+FLETCHER. [_Tentatively._] Yes ... yes, I _do_ deny it.
+
+MARION. [_Quickly._] This man's past, sir, is not yours, nor mine. But
+his present does belong to me, and his future shall be mine too, to
+_make_, not _hers to mar_.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Impatient._] Come! We've lost enough time, let's finish
+this. [CLERGYMAN _goes to his proper place behind the chancel rails_.
+
+JEANNETTE. [_Coming up one of the chancel steps._] You shall not go on
+with this marriage.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Half angry._] She has shown what she is by the way she has
+chosen to stop it.
+
+JEANNETTE. That's a cowardly lie! And it was only when I saw by the
+papers that my letters had been useless that I decided to humiliate
+myself in this way. Do you think I would so degrade my womanhood for
+the sake of anything on God's earth, but _one_ ... my child? [_To_
+MARION.] Do you think I could do anything but loathe _him_!... [_With
+a gesture toward_ FLETCHER.
+
+MARION. But I love him.
+
+JEANNETTE. So did I _once_. And now I'd save you if I could from all I
+know you'll have to suffer. Once you're his, he'll tire of you....
+
+MARION. [_Interrupting._] You forget one thing ... he is going to
+place a wedding-ring on my hand.
+
+JEANNETTE. Well, look at that! [_She rips her glove off violently, and
+shows a wedding-ring._] He placed it there! and said he'd take me to a
+church and make our compact binding.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Who has started, frightened, at first, has controlled
+himself and speaks with intense quiet._] This woman's from the
+streets. She's up to all the tricks.
+
+JEANNETTE. [_Outraged._] How dare you! I am not what he calls me! I
+swear that here in this holy place. _He_ dragged me through the
+streets, and any dirt upon my skirts _his_ feet have left there.
+
+FLETCHER. Be silent. [_To_ CLERGYMAN.] If you will not finish the
+service, we will find some one who will.
+
+MARION. [_To_ CLERGYMAN.] No, I will not leave here till we are
+married. I will not insult the man I have chosen for my husband by
+doubting his word for hers. I won't believe he made her what she is.
+
+FLETCHER. Marion!
+
+MARION. Ned! [_To_ CLERGYMAN.] Go on! Go on with the ceremony!
+
+JEANNETTE. You shall not go on! He's done his best to make me what he
+says I am ... and God knows he might have succeeded ... [_Emotion._]
+but for my boy's sake I fought the fight for honour ... [_Completely
+controlling her emotion._] The day he tricked me ... [_With a look of
+scorn at_ FLETCHER.] I stood before him as pure a woman as you stand
+now, and since he left me, there has never been an hour when I
+couldn't look straight into my child's eyes, not one minute I couldn't
+feel his two arms about my neck without a shudder.
+
+FLETCHER. [_More angry._] I won't stand this!
+
+JEANNETTE. [_To_ MARION, _continuing in the same key and tone as her
+former speech ... and pleadingly._] _Don't_ make vows that will take
+away this innocent boy's name.
+
+MARION. You must answer to your child for his name and honour.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Enraged, to_ JEANNETTE.] If you don't go now I'll ...
+[_Stops himself._
+
+JEANNETTE. Before God, yours, [_To_ MARION.] mine, ... [_Clasping her
+hands on her breast._] and _his_ God [_With a look of scornful warning
+at_ FLETCHER.], that man is _his_ father, and _my_ husband.
+
+FLETCHER. [_In a fearful rage._] You lie! [_Enter_ MRS. WOLTON _and_
+MRS. FLETCHER.
+
+MARION. [_Surprised ... pained._] Sh-h ... go on.
+
+JEANNETTE. [_Coming between_ MARION _and_ FLETCHER, _she cries out ...
+a wild, heart-broken, desperate cry._] No! you shall not write Bastard
+on the forehead of _my child_!
+
+FLETCHER. [_Beside himself._] By God! [_He strikes_ JEANNETTE _a blow
+... which sounds...._ MARION _cries out and recoils. The two mothers
+step forward with exclamations of fright and anger._ DAWSON _comes
+from the choir, brought by the sound of the cry, and goes to_ MARION.
+JEANNETTE _falls when struck. The child clings with both arms about
+its mother's waist._
+
+MARION. [_After a moment, drawing in a long breath, to_ FLETCHER.]
+Coward! [_Her uncle takes a step forward to her ... he carries her
+wedding bouquet. She seizes it from him and dashes it at the feet of_
+FLETCHER, _and then, throwing back her head with an expression of
+scorn, turns from him, takes the arm of her uncle with determination,
+and goes down the chancel steps out of the church._ FLETCHER _stands
+crestfallen._ MRS. WOLTON _and_ MRS. FLETCHER _look at each other,
+horrified, speechless._
+
+CURTAIN.
+
+
+
+
+ACT III.
+
+    SCENE. _The library at the_ WOLTONS. _A handsomely and
+    luxuriously furnished room, somewhat disarranged by the
+    preparations for the wedding. It is here that the wedding
+    presents are displayed; along the two sides and partly across
+    the end are placed long and narrow improvised tables,
+    covered with all sorts of gifts--silver, glass, &c. &c. There
+    are five piano lamps grouped together at the upper corner of
+    table. There are faded flowers about._
+
+    TIME. _The following day._
+
+    DISCOVERED. MRS. LORRIMER _at left of table, a maid and man
+    servant are busy wrapping up and addressing some of the
+    wedding presents._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Who has just finished writing an address on a
+parcel._] This is one to go by express, Howes.
+
+SERVANT. [_Taking it._] Yes, m'm. [_Placing it to one side where are
+others tied up and addressed._] Beg pardon, m'm, but it's a great pity
+Miss Marion should lose a husband and all the wedding presents as
+well.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Oh, it isn't always a pity, Howes, to lose a
+husband--it's very often a very good thing. [MAID _gives_ MRS.
+LORRIMER _another parcel to address, which she does--copying from a
+card which the maid gives her with the parcel. Maid exits._
+
+SERVANT. [_Giving_ MRS. LORRIMER _a visiting card._] This is the
+address, m'm--still, if you'll excuse me for saying so, Mrs.
+Lorrimer--if it was me, I'd keep the presents just by way of a kind of
+consolation. [_She and the_ SERVANT _tie up another box._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Addressing._] Ah, but you see their associations
+would be painful. I have had two husbands and I have each time moved
+out of the house I occupied with each on the day after losing him.
+
+SERVANT. You know what trouble is, m'm, to have lost two husbands.
+Grippe, m'm? [_Giving her another parcel._ HOWES _to table up stage._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Not exactly. Another kind of epidemic. The law, Howes.
+[HOWES _gives parcel._ MRS. LORRIMER _addresses it from a visiting
+card. Enter_ MAID _with_ ETHEL _and_ FANSHAW.
+
+MAID. I will tell Miss Wolton. [_Exit._ FANSHAW, ETHEL _and_ MRS.
+LORRIMER _greet each other._
+
+FANSHAW. How do you do? [_Shakes hands._ MRS. LORRIMER _motions with
+her head a dismissal to the_ SERVANT, _and he gets boxes and goes
+out._
+
+ETHEL. [_Goes to sofa and sits._] Do you think Marion will see us?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. I don't know, I'm sure. She is with her mother.
+
+ETHEL. You don't mean--
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Yes, but she isn't a bit like she was yesterday. She's
+crying like a child, poor thing,--what she's gone through!
+
+FANSHAW. Have you seen the papers? [_Has large bundle of them._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. No.
+
+FANSHAW. It's in all of them, and some have big pictures.
+
+ETHEL. Yes, my dear, with all of us in. Marion in a low-necked dress.
+You're a sight, but my picture's rather good.
+
+FANSHAW. [_Who has gotten papers from coat-tail pocket._] Perhaps
+you'd like to see them.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. No, no; put them away quick. I'll see them home. I take
+every blessed paper. [FANSHAW _up to table where he puts hat and
+papers_.
+
+ETHEL. What are you doing--sending back wedding presents? [_Crosses._
+
+FANSHAW. Oh, I say, is that necessary?
+
+ETHEL. I don't believe I would; there are lots of things she's been
+dying to have.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. My dear Ethel!
+
+FANSHAW. Yes, why couldn't she--er--forget--er--overlook--er--any old
+thing with some of them--I mean those she wants? [_Turns up, looking
+at presents on table._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Well, there are some things I should think she'd be
+glad to send back. After all, twelve dozen oyster forks are too many
+for a small family like a newly married couple.
+
+ETHEL. How many sugar spoons did she get?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Thirteen, which to say the least, is an unlucky
+number ... [_Rises, puts arm about_ ETHEL _and comes left._] and
+there's that bankrupt stock of piano lamps. [_Crosses to sofa; sits on
+sofa with_ ETHEL. FANSHAW _comes down._
+
+ETHEL. [_Half laughing._] That's true! By the way, have you sent back
+Mrs. Bayley's presents yet?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Yes, why?
+
+ETHEL. Go on, tell her, Fanshaw. [_Rises and goes to centre._ MRS.
+LORRIMER _and_ FANSHAW _sit on sofa._
+
+FANSHAW. [_Laughing._] Oh, it's nothing, only I sent it to Mrs. Bayley
+myself three Christmases ago as a philopene. I suppose she thought I
+wouldn't remember, but she forgot both our initials are marked on the
+bottom.
+
+ETHEL. [_At table, examining presents. Laughing._] Yes, my dear, and
+Marion found them. People really ought to be more careful.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Think of a woman with all Mrs. Bayley's
+money-- [_Interrupted._
+
+ETHEL. My dear, it is the rich who do these sort of things. Every year
+all my second-hand Christmas cards and calendars come from my
+wealthiest friends! And there's that thing-- [_Lifting a vase._] Isn't
+it hideous? I don't know who sent it but-- [_Interrupted._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. _I_ do.
+
+ETHEL. [_Innocently._] Who?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. I did.
+
+ETHEL. Good gracious. [_Laughs._] I assure you I haven't any taste.
+[ETHEL _down centre._ FANSHAW _rises_.
+
+FANSHAW. No, not a bit. [_Goes back of sofa and up to table._ ETHEL
+_up stage by table._
+
+ETHEL. How many presents did Marion get, anyway? [_Looking among the
+things on the table._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. I don't know. [_Satirically._] I didn't count them.
+
+ETHEL. I don't believe she got very many--Marion has always taken up
+so many poor people. I'm sure I never can tell what she sees in them!
+[ETHEL _crosses right of table_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Oh, yes, Ethel, I know how you choose your friends. The
+other day I heard you were running after the Lloyds--that settles it,
+I said--they are either going to have a box at the Opera this year, or
+give a series of dinners, or a big ball. Ethel knows what she's about.
+
+FANSHAW. Exactly--Ethel knows her business, but you left out one
+thing--they have the best cook in town, too.
+
+ETHEL. [_Taking up a box with a large silver fish knife in it._] Who
+gave her this fish knife?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. The Conrads, didn't they.... [ETHEL _bursts out
+laughing_.
+
+ETHEL. Ha! ha! ha! If that isn't appropriate! You know the old man
+Conrad made all his money out of imitation sardines!
+
+FANSHAW. And very bad imitations, too.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Well, if I could make as much as Conrad, I'd be willing
+to imitate codfish!
+
+ETHEL. [_Takes up a small box at which she has been looking._] Here's
+my present. I might as well take it home with me and save you the
+trouble. [_Puts it in her pocket. She looks at silver hand-glass._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Dryly._] Thank you! Was that your present in a
+Tiffany box--a small diamond pin?
+
+ETHEL. Yes, wasn't it sweet?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Rather. I saw those pins marked down at Wanamaker's
+Christmas time.
+
+ETHEL. For heaven's sake, don't tell Marion. [_Re-enter_ MAID.
+
+MAID. Mrs. Wolton will be down at once, madam-- [MAID _exits at back._
+FANSHAW _crosses to table_.
+
+ETHEL. [_Who goes back to_ MRS. LORRIMER.] Wasn't it awful
+yesterday--in the church! [_Crosses._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_With a sigh._] Awful. [_Rises and crosses to centre._
+
+ETHEL. [_Kneeling, with one knee on the sofa._] Still, I will say one
+thing, I've always been dying to have it happen.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Ethel! What a little beast you are.
+
+FANSHAW. Oh, she didn't mean to Marion particularly. Did you, Ethel?
+
+ETHEL. No; if I had my choice I'd rather see it happen to Kitty; she's
+always pretending she's so sincere and all that.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Marion is well rid of a man like Fletcher.
+
+ETHEL. Oh, I don't know--I believe I'd take him to-morrow if he asked
+me.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Well, I wish he would--it would serve you just right.
+
+FANSHAW. Oh, but you couldn't, to-morrow, even if he did ask you--you
+forget.
+
+ETHEL. Oh, of course I did. My dear, I meant to tell you when I came
+in that I'm announcing my engagement to-day.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Good gracious, to whom?
+
+ETHEL. To Mr. Fanshaw.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Good heavens. Allow me to condole-- [_Crosses to_
+FANSHAW.] I mean congratulate you. And so you're going to be married!
+[ETHEL _crosses. They shake hands._
+
+ETHEL. Oh, no, only engaged for a little while,--just for fun. [MRS.
+WOLTON _enters_.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Good morning, Ethel. I'm going to ask you to excuse
+Marion. She isn't seeing _any_ one this morning.
+
+ETHEL. I understand--of course--give her my love and tell her not to
+mind--every one's on her side and,--she looked perfectly lovely. Tell
+her she had the prettiest wedding dress anyway of the season. [_She
+goes to kiss_ MRS. WOLTON, _who draws back. Both_ MRS. WOLTON _and_
+MRS. LORRIMER _are aghast at the flippant manner of_ ETHEL. ETHEL
+_raises her eyebrows, shrugs her shoulders._] Good-bye, good-bye. Come
+along, Fanshaw. [_Exit._
+
+FANSHAW. [_Crossing to_ MRS. WOLTON.] Oh, Mrs. Wolton, don't mind
+Ethel. She doesn't mean what she sounds like. She never does mean what
+she sounds like. Besides, she's a little rattled this morning. You see
+she's engaged again.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Engaged?
+
+FANSHAW. Yes, not to Johnny. I'm it. [ETHEL _re-enters_.
+
+ETHEL. Come along, Fanshaw.
+
+FANSHAW. All right, I'm coming. [_Takes up hat and papers._ ETHEL
+_motions for him to leave papers--he does so and exits with_ ETHEL.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. How is Marion?
+
+MRS. WOLTON. In the same extraordinary frame of mind--I'm afraid
+she'll be ill.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. You mean, so composed?
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Yes, so hard--she hasn't shed a tear--the only person
+she's at all human with is that poor creature upstairs. And you know
+she's sent for _him_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Surprised._] She's going to see him?
+
+MRS. WOLTON. She insists upon doing so.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. I wonder why? I never want to see any of my husbands
+again-- [_Crosses to_ MRS. WOLTON.] after they've once disappointed
+me.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. I suspect--I don't know--Marion refuses to talk about it,
+but her sending for this Mrs.--er--Miss--er--dear me, I don't know
+what to call her--but you know who I mean--I think Marion has an idea
+she can help her to--er-- [_She hesitates._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. You don't mean to marry Fletcher? [MRS. WOLTON _nods
+her head. Incredulously._] She still wants to?
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Anything for her child's future.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Very seriously reflecting._] Well, I can understand
+that. [_She rouses herself and finishes in her old manner._] But, my
+dear, I can sympathize with her, too, poor thing. I know what's before
+her--you see, both mine were brutes.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_Rises and crosses to_ MRS. LORRIMER.] Will you mind if
+I say something very frank to you?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Tentatively._] Well--frank things are always
+disagreeable.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Anyway, I am going to run the risk. You know you are
+considered--rather--er--
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. I suppose you want to say heartless?
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Oh, no!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Well--then frivolous--
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Yes--perhaps--and--a few other things--but you aren't.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Yes, I am.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. No, you're not.--These qualities are all only on the
+surface. [_Both sit on sofa._] They are the rouge and powder of your
+character--underneath, I believe you are plain and sincere.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Laughing._] I'm not so mad about being plain, but
+sincere I would like to be.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. It's your wretched luck in your married life that has
+made you what you are!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Sincerely, with much feeling, and almost breaking
+down._] You're right. It was a case of hardening my heart and laughing
+in the world's face, or--or having it laugh in mine perhaps.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. What you need now as you did in the beginning is a good
+husband--like mine was.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Good men don't grow on bushes, and besides, good men
+don't seem to care about me.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. I know just the man, and I believe he's been in love with
+you for years, though he may not know it himself! [MRS. LORRIMER
+_looks at her questioningly._ MRS. WOLTON _goes to her and, putting
+her arm around her neck, whispers in her ear._] I want you for a
+_sister_-in-law.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Embarrassed, pleased._] Mrs. Wolton!
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Call me "Laura," and I shall feel as if matters had
+progressed a little. [_Enter_ DAWSON--_suddenly and unceremoniously.
+Both women start slightly and exchange a quick, covert, meaning
+glance. Rise._
+
+DAWSON. Ah, Laura--I attended to that for you at once. Has she come?
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Yes, she's upstairs.
+
+DAWSON. Good. [MRS. LORRIMER _coughs_.] Mrs. Lorrimer-- [_Shaking her
+hand._] I have followed you here--they told me at your house.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_Rather hopefully._] You want to see Mrs. Lorrimer?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Very quickly, aside to_ MRS. WOLTON _with humour._]
+Say "Emily"--that may help a little, too!
+
+MRS. WOLTON. You want to see Emily?
+
+DAWSON. [_A momentary surprise at the name._] Emily, sweet
+name--er--yes, if you will allow me, alone. [_Goes right, takes out
+handkerchief, and mops brow._
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Alone!--very well! [_Aside to_ MRS. LORRIMER.] I'd no
+idea it would come so soon. It must be _that_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Blushing._] No, no, it's something else-- [_Believing
+though that it is._
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_Still aside._] One thing delights me, you're as much in
+love as he is-- [_Aloud._] Good-bye, _Emily_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Aloud, with emphasis._] Good-by, _Laura_! [MRS.
+WOLTON _exits_.
+
+DAWSON. Mrs. Lorrimer-- [_Crosses centre._] I want to speak to you on
+a matter of the greatest privacy.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Yes. [_Very quietly._
+
+DAWSON. You are the only woman in the world who can help me.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Seriously._] I consider that a true compliment, Mr.
+Dawson.
+
+DAWSON. I hesitate because I do not know if I have the right to ask
+you to share my secret with me.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. As far as I am concerned, I _give_ you that right.
+
+DAWSON. You will help me at no matter what inconvenience to yourself?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Yes--but I may not--er--consider it an "inconvenience"
+to myself. [_Smiling._
+
+DAWSON. Very well then--the terrible trouble of yesterday is not the
+only calamity that may happen to my sister and her daughter.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Rising--surprised, disappointed, but still affected
+seriously by his serious manner._] It is of them you wish to speak to
+me?
+
+DAWSON. Yes.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. It is for them you wish my help?
+
+DAWSON. Yes.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_With one sigh, dismisses her disappointment and holds
+out her hand--crosses to right of table._] It is yours for the asking.
+
+DAWSON. Thank you! [_Presses her hand._] Mr. Wolton killed himself to
+escape being convicted of a crime. [_Sits left of table._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Withdraws her hand slowly from his, and whispers in
+tremulous surprise and horror._] What!!!
+
+DAWSON. He had misappropriated funds entrusted to his care,--exposure
+became inevitable--you know the rest.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. But Marion, Mrs. Wolton?
+
+DAWSON. They know nothing!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Nothing! [_Looks puzzled._] But how--
+
+DAWSON. The night of the catastrophe, Fletcher announced his
+engagement to Marion, and claimed his right to bear a share of the
+family's trouble. I took him at his word by asking him to come to the
+rescue of his future wife's name and honour with--money!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. And he did!
+
+DAWSON. Yes--willingly! He was splendid that night.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. That's why you suddenly became his champion!
+
+DAWSON. Yes, I couldn't believe the tales against him, when he had
+proved his love for Marion by such a big act of generosity.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. He knows everything?
+
+DAWSON. Everything, that same night.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. And he has never breathed a word?
+
+DAWSON. That was only natural up to yesterday, but
+now-- [_Interrupted._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. He doesn't threaten to tell?
+
+DAWSON. He does, unless Marion marries him. He's mad about her. The
+good in him has loved her up to now; now it's the devil in him. He's
+not the same man!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. And what do you want me to do?
+
+DAWSON. Advise me.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. _I._ Advise _you_?
+
+DAWSON. Yes. Shall we tell Marion?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. About her father?
+
+DAWSON. Yes.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. No, no! Not if we can help it!
+
+DAWSON. But-- [_Interrupted._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. And Fletcher must be paid every cent he gave.
+
+DAWSON. Not easily done. Of course you will understand I have nothing;
+what I had went at the first, and I shall need all my income now for
+Laura and Marion.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. You will borrow this money in your name.
+
+DAWSON. I have no security. [_A moment's pause; both think--rise._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Do you carry a life insurance? [_Crosses left._
+
+DAWSON. Yes, quite a heavy one.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Why not borrow on your life insurance this sum?
+
+DAWSON. [_Pleased._] Of course, of course! What a fool I've been not
+to think of that! How clever you are! But again, it must be borrowed
+privately for many reasons. [_Again a moment's pause, while both
+think._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Showing decision and determination._] I think I know
+some one.
+
+DAWSON. Who?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Don't ask me till I've seen him and found out--I will
+go now-- [_Crossing up centre._]--at once, and make a beginning, and
+you must go to Fletcher and keep him from coming here.
+
+DAWSON. That won't be necessary, for surely Marion wouldn't see him.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. On the contrary she has _sent_ for him!
+
+DAWSON. [_Astonished._] She isn't still in love with him! I'll go to
+him and say I've come to talk business; I think that's the best way to
+put it.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Yes, and now, go right away!
+
+DAWSON. [_With a world of appreciation and sentiment in his voice and
+manner._] _Without thanking you?_
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Yes, please, because I don't want you to thank me in a
+hurry--I want you to take a good long time over it. [_A moment's
+pause; they look at each other._ DAWSON _seizes her hand, half
+shamefacedly, and kisses it. He starts for hat, which he placed on
+table as he entered._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Drawing him back--half shyly._] Oh--answer me just
+one question....
+
+DAWSON. A dozen.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. What have you--a nice man--I mean--a man like you....
+[_Interrupted._
+
+DAWSON. [_Interrupting._] What kind of a man?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. A "nice" man--you _are_ a nice man, aren't you?
+[_Smiling sweetly and rather archly at him._
+
+DAWSON. [_Embarrassed._] Well--I--I'm afraid I shall have to leave the
+answer with you--am I?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Yes, I think you are--and why have you never married?
+
+DAWSON. Well, you see, _some_ people marry so often, some others of us
+don't marry at all, just to strike a sort of balance!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Laughing._] That's mean of you to say to me! Come,
+answer my question honestly.
+
+DAWSON. Well, I've only known one woman in the world who wouldn't bore
+me.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. There are such things as happy marriages, aren't there?
+
+DAWSON. I should like to risk one, only-- [_He hesitates and stops._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. This "one woman in the world?"
+
+DAWSON. Oh, she's absurd, impossible!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Why?...
+
+DAWSON. She wants to divorce all her husbands.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Well, but don't give her a chance!
+
+DAWSON. Eh, what?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Don't give her a chance--any reason.
+
+DAWSON. By George! I never thought of that.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Delighted._] You stupid!
+
+DAWSON. [_Delighted._] Don't you know who I mean?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Very self-consciously._] No--how should I?
+
+DAWSON. Can't you guess?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. I don't want to guess, I want to know for _certain_.
+
+DAWSON. You are "the only woman in the world!" [_He bows low before
+her, his right arm bent, his hand on his chest._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Takes his arm._] Well, I am ready to run the risk if
+you are. [MRS. LORRIMER _and_ DAWSON _cross right._] But now we
+mustn't lose any more time--take a cable-car; I will, it'll be quicker
+than a cab. Perhaps you won't approve of cable-cars for me, though.
+They are the most emotional mode of convenience I've ever tried.--This
+morning, in two curves I sat in three men's laps!
+
+DAWSON. _Ah._ [_Laughing._] Don't let those curves get to be a habit,
+or I'll sue the company for alienating your affections.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Laughing._] Come! [_Takes his arm again and they
+meet_ MARION, _who enters._
+
+MARION. [_As she comes._] Tired out, Emily? [DAWSON _goes up stage to
+door_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Tired! I never felt so rested in all my life! I haven't
+tied up very many. [_With a look and gesture toward the table of
+presents._] I've been interrupted--and now you must excuse me for a
+little while, but I'll come back and do some more.
+
+DAWSON. I'll go at once-- [_To_ MARION.] --an errand for Emily--Mrs.
+Lorrimer. [_Emphasis on the name and a meaning look._] Good-bye--
+[_Going. Both women say_ "Good-bye," _but_ MRS. LORRIMER _follows
+him._ MARION'S _back is turned._ MRS. LORRIMER _quickly gives_ DAWSON
+_a large bunch of violets she carries in exchange for a small rose-bud
+he wears in his buttonhole. He cannot get it into his coat. There is
+amused confusion._ MARION _turns and_ DAWSON _quickly exits._ MRS.
+LORRIMER _down left of table._
+
+MARION. [_Right of table._] It's like the death of someone, isn't it?
+This is the death of my marriage, and these gifts are its clothes.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Has--er--she gone?
+
+MARION. No--she's waiting up in my room.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. What for?
+
+MARION. [_Quietly._] I mean to make him marry her if I can, here,
+to-day.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Doubtfully._] Do you think you can?
+
+MARION. If he loves me, I think so. I shall ask him to prove his love
+by doing the one honourable, honest thing there is for him to do. [_To
+sofa._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. You believe in this woman?
+
+MARION. He has practically acknowledged that what she says is true.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Tenderly._] And _you_, dear, and your love--
+[_Crosses to_ MARION. _Interrupted._
+
+MARION. _My_ love--for _him_. [_Sits on sofa_.] The blow he struck
+Jeannette fell on my heart and killed my love. A man who would strike
+a woman will do most anything,--and think where he did it, and _why_?
+Because she was pleading and fighting for the rights of his child!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. I am glad, dear, you can take it so calmly.
+
+MARION. [_Calmly._] Oh, no, it isn't exactly that--I am reasonable; I
+see I've escaped a great misery and I'm grateful-- [_Enter_ SERVANT.]
+But I suffer terribly, for the moment I close my eyes, I see only the
+dreadful scene of yesterday.
+
+SERVANT. Mr. Fletcher, ma'am.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Oh! He's missed him!
+
+MARION. What? [_Rises._] Who's missed who?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Nothing. Nobody!
+
+MARION. [_To_ SERVANT.] Show him in, Howes. [SERVANT _bows slightly
+and exits_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Quickly._] Let me go the other way. [_Reaches door._
+
+MARION. You're coming back?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Yes. [_Kisses_ MARION.
+
+MARION. What a sweet rose that is. [_Touching_ DAWSON'S _rose in_ MRS.
+LORRIMER'S _dress._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Yes, it's the loveliest rose I've ever seen. [_Exit
+quickly as_ FLETCHER _enters._
+
+FLETCHER. [_Speaking seriously but pleasantly, evidently expecting
+that everything is to be made all right between them._] Thank you for
+sending for me, but I would have come without your message!
+
+MARION. [_Looks at him, surprised at his tone. Speaks quietly._]
+Jeannette is upstairs waiting.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Starts; his whole manner changes; he realizes now that he
+has to fight for what he wants and against what he doesn't want._]
+Why?
+
+MARION. I've promised her you shall marry her, if I can make you.
+
+FLETCHER. You can't. No, no, Marion. [_Pleading._] You won't throw me
+over for yesterday. I lost my temper, I know, and I'm sorry for it,
+but I love you-- [_Interrupted._
+
+MARION. [_Interrupting._] Prove it by doing what I ask.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Angry._] Never! [_Goes right._
+
+MARION. [_Follows him._] If you make the reparation there is in your
+power, it would save you from being utterly contemptible in my eyes!
+
+FLETCHER. _You_ say that!!!
+
+MARION. Yes,--will you do what I ask?
+
+FLETCHER. [_Angry._] No!
+
+MARION. [_Angry._] Then I do _right_ to despise you!
+
+FLETCHER. No, because it is _my love_ for _you_ that keeps me back.
+[MARION _laughs a bitter, satirical laugh_.] I will marry only _you_.
+
+MARION. Me! Ha! [_Laughs again._
+
+FLETCHER. [_Angrily--close to her._] And I _will_ marry you.
+
+MARION. No, you'll not! [_Faces him._
+
+FLETCHER. I will _force_ you to marry me.
+
+MARION. How dare you to take that tone with me.
+
+FLETCHER. I dare more than that.
+
+MARION. [_Goes to bell._] Take care, or I'll have the servants turn
+you out of the house! [FLETCHER _laughs an ironical laugh._] _Will_
+you marry Jeannette Gros!
+
+FLETCHER. [_More angry._] No! [_He follows her._] And I won't leave
+this house, either. [_Takes her hand._
+
+MARION. Don't touch me!
+
+FLETCHER. I won't leave the house because it's _mine_. And so will
+_you_ be!
+
+MARION. No!
+
+FLETCHER. Yes, you will, because I'll buy you with your father's
+reputation!
+
+MARION. With what!
+
+FLETCHER. With your father's good name.
+
+MARION. You--scoundrel.
+
+FLETCHER. We are well mated, for you are the daughter of one! [MARION
+_immediately touches the bell, which is heard ringing in the
+distance_.] You had better dismiss the servant when he comes; I am
+sure you would rather he didn't hear all I have to say.
+
+MARION. [_Almost under her breath._] _You_ cannot injure my father!
+
+FLETCHER. Ask your uncle, Mr. Dawson! [MARION _looks up questioningly,
+as if she suddenly remembered something._ SERVANT _enters_.
+
+MARION. Ask Mrs. Wolton to please come here at once.
+
+SERVANT. Yes, m'm. [_Crosses room and exits._
+
+FLETCHER. You remember the night of your fancy-dress ball and your
+father's--death-- [_He pauses_--MARION _doesn't answer, but looks
+troubled._] He took his life to save it from being--disgraced, because
+he was a _thief_!
+
+MARION. Stop! [_She draws herself up and looks_ FLETCHER _in the face.
+He stops. She goes to door left and opens it. He goes right. Enter_
+MRS. WOLTON, _a little frightened._ MARION _takes her hand and leads
+her down stage._ MRS. WOLTON _sees_ FLETCHER, _but does not bow._
+FLETCHER _bows._ MARION _takes_ MRS. WOLTON'S _hand and the two women
+stand, facing_ FLETCHER _who stands._
+
+MARION. You repeat, if you dare, the vile slander of my father!
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Your father?
+
+FLETCHER. All that I said is true, and more!
+
+MRS. WOLTON. What is true? What did he say? [_A pause._ FLETCHER
+_remains doggedly silent._
+
+MARION. Ah! You daren't repeat it before my mother! [FLETCHER
+_sneers_.] You know she would prove the lie in your face! Did you
+think you would frighten me into marrying you! Do you think a man with
+a reputation like yours, could injure the reputation of a man like my
+father, loved by everyone!
+
+FLETCHER. And who cheated those very people who loved him--that's only
+what _I_ did. He was no better than I-- [MRS. WOLTON _makes a movement
+and an effort to interrupt him_.
+
+MARION. [_To_ MRS. WOLTON.] Let him finish, mother. [_Holding her
+back._
+
+FLETCHER. He left you both beggars, and robbed his own sister besides.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. _It is not true!_
+
+MARION. [_Not believing him._] How is it, then, that we have
+everything, everything we could wish for! How is it we have lived in
+our old home, lived our old life, if we were beggars!
+
+FLETCHER. How?--thanks to _my_ money, _I've_ paid for it all! [MARION
+_opens her lips to speak, but cannot; a short pause_.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. You! [MARION _stops her with her hand on her arm._ MARION
+_and_ MRS. WOLTON _cross to sofa._
+
+FLETCHER. [_Quietly._] It is true! This is _my_ house you're in! [_A
+pause--the two women are stunned, speechless, unable to comprehend and
+believe, yet unable to contradict. Re-enter_ DAWSON.
+
+FLETCHER. Ah! [_Relieved, as_ DAWSON _is his proof._ DAWSON, _looking
+from one person to the other, realizes the situation. He looks a
+little frightened at the two women. An awkward moment's pause._]
+Question _him_ if you doubt my word.
+
+MARION. My father! Is what he says true? [_The women are afraid to
+question._
+
+DAWSON. [_To_ FLETCHER.] Have you told them?
+
+FLETCHER. The truth? _Yes!_
+
+DAWSON. [_To_ FLETCHER.] Your reason?
+
+FLETCHER. I didn't come here to do it; she made me angry. She drove me
+to it.
+
+MARION. [_In a hard, tuneless voice._] He says my father was not
+honest--is that _true_?
+
+DAWSON. [_Answers with difficulty._] Yes. [_A sob comes into_ MARION'S
+_throat and she almost breaks down, but she at once controls herself._
+
+MARION. He says _his_ money has been supporting us since--since--
+
+DAWSON. [_To_ FLETCHER.] A _manly_ way to put it!
+
+FLETCHER. [_Crosses left. Bursting out again._] I wanted you to feel
+an obligation to me--I don't want to lose you.--You loved me
+yesterday; if you were once bound to me, you'd love me again--you
+can't change like that over night.
+
+MARION. If yesterday had left any love in my heart for you, you would
+have destroyed it by what you have done to-day.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_Who has gained control of herself._] But I don't
+understand how it was his money--
+
+DAWSON. [_Interrupts._] At the time of your husband's death a large
+sum of money was needed to keep his wrong-doing from being made
+public. I took Fletcher into my confidence, and he lent us this sum.
+
+MARION. You should have _told_ me.
+
+DAWSON. I wanted to save you.
+
+MARION. No! no! It was placing me in a terribly false position. It was
+placing all of us! Well, _I_ take the debt now on _my_ shoulders!
+Between us three we will manage to pay it up in time--I am ready to
+give up the rest of my life to it. [_Crosses to_ FLETCHER.] Don't be
+afraid, you will be paid!
+
+FLETCHER. And you still persist in your refusal to marry me?
+
+MARION. Yes! Yes! Yes!! A thousand times now more than ever.
+
+FLETCHER. And do you think all those years you are trying to scrape up
+the money, I'll hold my tongue? I don't care about the money, I only
+care about you.--If I can't have you, do you think I'm going to accept
+the disgrace you helped heap upon me yesterday? Not I, if I know it!
+Throw me over, and I'll make public your father's record--every
+dishonest bit of it! [_Strikes table._
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_Cries out._] No! No! [_Crosses to_ DAWSON.
+
+DAWSON. You dare threaten?
+
+MARION. No, no! He can't mean it.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_Taking_ DAWSON'S _arm._] No, no! He wouldn't bring this
+disgrace upon us! What good would it do him?
+
+FLETCHER. Then persuade her to marry me.
+
+DAWSON. No. Rather the disgrace!
+
+MARION. [_To_ FLETCHER.] I never thought I would humble myself before
+you, but I do, now, and I beg you, for the love you say you have for
+me, spare the name of a man, who at least never harmed you! Don't
+dishonour my father's memory. Isn't it enough revenge for you that my
+mother and I know it! [_With tears._ FLETCHER _is a little affected,
+but_ DAWSON _does not see this, and interrupts. He pulls_ MARION _away
+from before_ FLETCHER.
+
+DAWSON. No--I won't have you pleading to him! [_Places her to left
+and_ Marion _puts arms about her mother._
+
+FLETCHER. I know who I have to thank for all this--Rhodes!
+
+MARION. There is no need to mention his name. [_Arms about her
+mother._
+
+FLETCHER. Isn't there! It was he who brought Jeannette here--it was he
+we both have to thank for yesterday's ordeal.
+
+MARION. [_To_ DAWSON, _half-heartedly._] What? [_She places_ MRS.
+WOLTON _on sofa._
+
+FLETCHER. You didn't believe me when I told you of your father! But
+this is as true as that was. And the night you promised to marry me,
+Rhodes threatened to do this very thing.
+
+MARION. It isn't possible! He wouldn't have submitted me to
+yesterday's humiliation!
+
+FLETCHER. How else could she--living quietly in a little town in
+Switzerland--know of our affairs here?
+
+DAWSON. I confess Rhodes tried to prejudice me, but I was too much
+impressed with Fletcher's generosity.
+
+FLETCHER. That money was nothing. I'd do it all over again to-morrow
+if Marion would only marry me.
+
+MARION. Douglas tried to influence me, too.
+
+FLETCHER. He wants you himself, that's why!
+
+MARION. [_In despair._] Then I have no one--no friend to believe in!
+Not even you, Uncle Fred, for you should have told me about my father
+in the beginning.
+
+FLETCHER. [_To_ MARION.] You have me!
+
+MARION. Oh! Can't I make you understand, _you_ least of all! [SERVANT
+_enters and announces_--"Mrs. Lorrimer--Mr. Rhodes." _Those on the
+stage look up surprised._
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Oh! this is more than I will bear! Mr. Rhodes, I must beg
+you to excuse us.
+
+DOUGLAS. To excuse you?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. I have brought Mr. Rhodes-- [_Interrupted._
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Then, I must ask you to take him away if he is unwilling
+to leave without you!
+
+DAWSON. No, Laura, wait-- [_Interrupted._
+
+MARION. Mother is right. It should have been enough for Mr. Rhodes to
+have witnessed our humiliation yesterday. It is adding another insult
+for him to come here to-day.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Marion, you don't know what you're saying--
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Stops_ MRS. LORRIMER.] No! Miss Wolton is doubtless
+right-- [_Movement from_ MARION.] You did not tell me Mr. Fletcher was
+here, or I shouldn't have been persuaded to come. I prefer to go--
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. No, not without my telling why you came.
+
+DOUGLAS. No, I must ask you to keep the reason entirely to
+yourself--and Mr. Dawson. [_Starts to go._
+
+DAWSON. [_Stops him._] Not yet. I understand now why you have come
+with Mrs. Lorrimer. It is not fair that your reason for coming should
+not be known.
+
+FLETCHER. We know it; Miss Wolton has sufficiently explained. His
+presence here at this moment is only another insult.
+
+DOUGLAS. Oh, you wish me to go? [MRS. LORRIMER _begins to cross back
+of_ DOUGLAS _to right of table._] That puts another colour on the
+matter. I am at a loss to imagine how Mrs. Wolton could accuse me of
+the sentiments she did. I will stay and wait for an explanation from
+her.
+
+MARION. I will give it to you if you will excuse me for a moment.
+[_Going._
+
+DAWSON. [_Meeting her._] What are you going to do?
+
+MARION. Bring her here--she is in my room----
+
+FLETCHER. [_Uneasy._] Jeannette!
+
+MARION. [_Ignoring_ FLETCHER, _speaks to_ DAWSON _in reply to_
+FLETCHER'S _question._] She will tell us who brought her to New York,
+and that will answer--Mr. Rhodes. [_She exits._
+
+FLETCHER. [_To_ DAWSON.] I refuse to remain to see this woman. [_Takes
+his hat._
+
+DAWSON. I have no wish to detain you--but kindly give your address
+that I may communicate with you.
+
+FLETCHER. My bankers you know,--that is all that is necessary, as I
+shall very likely sail--what day is this?
+
+DAWSON. Friday.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Bitterly._] Oh, yes, of course, my wedding-day was on
+Thursday! I think I shall sail in to-morrow's steamer. [MARION
+_re-enters. Sees_ FLETCHER _going, her voice stops him_.
+
+MARION. You are going--wait. This gentleman has asked me a question,
+which I think you can answer for me, by answering a question of mine
+to you. How did you know of my marriage to--of my marriage of
+yesterday?
+
+JEANNETTE. From a friend who wrote me and sent me the newspapers.
+
+MARION. [_Meaningly._] A man or woman friend?
+
+JEANNETTE. A woman!
+
+MARION. [_Starts--it is the first shock of doubt she has had._]
+Douglas Rhodes had nothing to do with your appearance yesterday in the
+church?
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Astonished--hurt._] _You thought that?_
+
+JEANNETTE. Oh, no, Miss Wolton, he had nothing in the world to do with
+it.
+
+MARION. [_Stands up as if shot, her face full of shame and
+grief--turns slowly toward_ DOUGLAS, _bows her head, half whispers._]
+I beg your pardon.
+
+DAWSON. [_To_ FLETCHER.] You see you were wrong, Mr. Fletcher.
+
+FLETCHER. Possibly. Good-bye.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. And our secret, my husband's-- [_Hesitates, searching for
+a word--does not finish._
+
+FLETCHER. Oh, I was only trying to bully your daughter into marrying
+me--a drowning man, you know--I thought I could make her love me again
+if I once had a good chance--that's all. Well--I've bought lots of
+pleasure at the cost of other people's; now I'm going to pay my debt,
+I suppose, with some misery on my own account, but--well,--I sha'n't
+disturb Wolton's memory. [MRS. WOLTON _whispers aloud to herself
+involuntarily--_ "Thank God!" FLETCHER _continues speech._] Because,
+because-- [_A sob comes in his throat._] I can't help it, I still love
+his daughter. [_After a long look at_ MARION, _exits._ MARION _has
+turned from_ DOUGLAS _and listened to the end of_ FLETCHER'S _speech.
+As he goes_, JEANNETTE _involuntarily seizes_ MARION'S _hand._ MARION
+_frees herself from_ JEANNETTE _with an encouraging look at her, and
+follows_ FLETCHER _out._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Well, bad as he is, there is something about that man
+that takes right hold of me. [_To_ DAWSON.] It's lucky I've fallen in
+love with you, or I might have had one more inning in the divorce
+club.
+
+DAWSON. I'm only afraid there's a little danger of you trying it
+again, anyway.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. With _you_? Oh, no! The day we are married I'm going to
+begin writing letters to the newspapers in favour of abolishing the
+institution.
+
+MARION. [_Enters._ JEANNETTE _goes to her quickly, calm and
+hopefully._] Go to him, he is waiting. [JEANNETTE _gives an
+exclamation of emotional relief and joy._] Be tactful; he wants to
+sail on to-morrow's steamer--don't ... [_Interrupted._
+
+JEANNETTE. I understand--he shall sail alone, if he will only leave
+his name behind for my boy.
+
+MARION. That he will do--he said so. [_As_ MARION _turns_, JEANNETTE
+_takes her hand and leaves the room._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Crosses to_ MARION.] Now, Marion, I want you to know
+why Douglas came.
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Rises, comes center._] Please-- [_He shakes his head._
+
+DAWSON. But she _must_ know some time.
+
+DOUGLAS. Not before me.
+
+DAWSON. Have you forgotten, Marion, our debt to Fletcher?
+
+MARION. [_Realizes what it is. To_ DOUGLAS.] _You_ would--Oh no,
+rather leave the debt with him to repay.
+
+DOUGLAS. Why?
+
+MARION. Because I owe you now more than I can ever repay, for the
+wonderful friendship you have given me all my life! I haven't the
+right to accept anything more from you.
+
+DOUGLAS. Let me be the judge of that--
+
+MARION. Still, after all that's gone by, you don't hate me?
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Forgetting himself._] Hate you? No. I-- [MARION _crosses to
+sofa, sits._ MRS. LORRIMER, _as he begins to speak, has touched_
+DAWSON'S _arm meaningly._ DAWSON _moves quickly and softly to_
+DOUGLAS, _and, with a quiet, soft, firm touch on his arm, stops him
+before he can say "I love you."_
+
+DAWSON. [_Aside to_ DOUGLAS.] Wait--trust to me who love you both, and
+wait.
+
+DOUGLAS. [_To_ MARION.] You'll leave the debt with me?
+
+MARION. Yes! [MRS. LORRIMER, MRS. WOLTON _and_ DAWSON _all exchange
+happy, hopeful glances._ DOUGLAS _and_ MARION _look at each other._
+
+CURTAIN.
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Transcriber's Notes
+
+Pages 533, 536: Variations in spelling Jeannette Gros (Jeannette
+Gross and Jeanette Gross) in the Cast of Characters lists have been
+retained to match the original book.
+
+Page 540: speakes changed to speaks. (She speakes aside to one)
+
+Page 548: Punctuation missing in original. Added ! after "something."
+(MR. WOLTON. Give me a word of hope, Fred!--something What are you
+going to do?)
+
+Page 549: Period added to end of sentence after "corner." (and placing
+them down left corner)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Representative Plays by American
+Dramatists: 1856-1911: The Moth and the Flame, by Clyde Fitch
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+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of Representative Plays by American Dramatists: 1856-1911: The Moth And The Flame, by Clyde Fitch.
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+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Representative Plays by American
+Dramatists: 1856-1911: The Moth and the Flame, by Clyde Fitch
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Representative Plays by American Dramatists: 1856-1911: The Moth and the Flame
+
+Author: Clyde Fitch
+
+Editor: Montrose J. Moses
+
+Release Date: June 2, 2008 [EBook #25531]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOTH AND THE FLAME ***
+
+
+
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+Produced by David Starner, Diane Monico, and The Online
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+</pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+<h1>THE MOTH AND THE FLAME</h1>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p class="figcenter" style="width: 375px;"><a name="Illustration_Clyde_Fitch" id="Illustration_Clyde_Fitch"></a>
+<img src="images/image001.png" width="375" height="580" alt="Clyde Fitch" title="Clyde Fitch" />
+<span class="caption">Clyde Fitch</span>
+</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_523" id="Page_523">[Pg 523]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CLYDE_FITCH" id="CLYDE_FITCH"></a>CLYDE FITCH</h2>
+
+<p class="center">(1865-1909)</p>
+
+
+<p>Clyde Fitch brought a vivacity to the American stage that no
+other American playwright has thus far succeeded in emulating.
+The total impression of his work leads one to believe that he also
+brought to the American stage a style which was at the same
+time literary and distinctly his own. His personality was interesting
+and lovable, quickly responsive to a variety of human
+nature. No play of his was ever wholly worthless, because of that
+personal equation which lent youth and spontaneity to much of
+his dialogue. When he attained popular fame, he threw off his
+dramas&mdash;whether original or adapted from the French and
+German&mdash;with a rapidity and ease that did much to create a
+false impression as to his haste and casualness. But Fitch,
+though a nervously quick worker, was never careless. He pondered
+his dramas long, he carried his characters in mind for
+years, he almost memorized his dialogue before he set it down on
+paper. And if he wrote in his little note-books with the same
+staccato speed that an artist sketches, it was merely because he
+saw the picture vividly, and because the preliminaries had been
+done beforehand.</p>
+
+<p>The present Editor was privileged to know Fitch as a friend.
+And to be taken into the magic circle was to be given freely of
+that personal equation which made his plays so personal. This
+association was begun over a negative criticism of a play. An
+invitation followed to come and talk it over in his Fortieth Street
+study, the same room which&mdash;decorations, furniture, books and
+all&mdash;was bequeathed to Amherst College, and practically reproduces
+there the Fitchean flavour.</p>
+
+<p>I have seen Clyde Fitch on many diverse occasions. Through
+incisive comment on people, contemporary manners, and plays,
+which was let drop in conversation, I was able to estimate the
+natural tendency of Fitch's mind. His interest was never concerned
+solely with dominant characters; he was quick rather to
+sense the idiosyncrasies of the average person. His observation
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_524" id="Page_524">[Pg 524]</a></span>was caught by the seemingly unimportant, but no less identifying
+peculiarities of the middle class. Besides which, his irony was
+never more happy than when aimed against that social set which
+he knew, and good-humouredly satirized.</p>
+
+<p>To know Clyde Fitch intimately&mdash;no matter for how short a
+while&mdash;was to be put in possession of his real self. From early
+years, he showed the same tendencies which later developed more
+fully, but were not different. Success gave him the money to
+gratify his tastes for <i>objets d'art</i>, which he used to calculate closely
+to satisfy in the days when "Beau Brummell" and "Fr&eacute;d&eacute;ric
+Lema&icirc;tre" gave hint of his dramatic talent. He was a man of
+deep sentiment, shown to his friends by the countless graceful
+acts as host, and shown to his players. As soon as a Fitch play
+began to be a commodity, coveted by the theatrical manager, he
+nearly always had personal control of its production, and could
+dictate who should be in his casts. No dramatist has left behind
+him more profoundly pleasing memories of artistic association
+than Clyde Fitch. The names of his plays form a roster of stage
+associations&mdash;the identification of "Beau Brummell" with Richard
+Mansfield; of "Nathan Hale" with N. C. Goodwin; of "Barbara
+Frietchie" with Julia Marlowe; of "The Climbers" with Amelia
+Bingham; of "The Stubbornness of Geraldine" with Mary Mannering;
+of "The Truth" and "The Girl With Green Eyes" with
+Clara Bloodgood&mdash;to mention a few instances. Those who recall
+happy hours spent with Fitch at his country homes&mdash;either at
+"Quiet Corner," Greenwich, Connecticut, or at "The Other
+House," Katonah, New York, have vivid memory of his pervasive
+cordiality. His players, likewise, those whose identifying
+talent caught his fancy, had the same care and attention paid
+them in his playwriting. Sometimes, it may be, this graciousness
+of his made him cut his cloth to suit the figure. "Beau
+Brummell" was the very mold and fashion of Mansfield: but that
+was <i>Brummell's</i> fault and Mansfield's genius, to which was
+added the adaptability of Fitch. But there are no seams or
+patches to "Captain Jinks of the Horse Marines"&mdash;its freshness
+caught the freshness of Ethel Barrymore, and Fitch was confident
+of the blend. His eye was unerring as to stage effect, and
+he would go to all ends of trouble, partly for sentiment, partly
+for accuracy, and always for novelty, to create the desired results.
+Did he not, with his own hands, wire the apple-blossoms for the
+orchard scene in "Lovers' Lane?" Was he not careful to get the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_525" id="Page_525">[Pg 525]</a></span>right colour for the dawn in "Nathan Hale," and the Southern
+evening atmosphere in "Barbara Frietchie?" And in such a play
+as "Girls," did he not delight in the accessories, like the clatter
+of the steam-pipe radiator, for particular New York environment
+which he knew so graphically how to portray?</p>
+
+<p>That was the boy&mdash;the Peter Pan quality&mdash;in Clyde Fitch; it
+was not his love for the trivial, for he could be serious in the
+midst of it. His temperament in playwriting was as variable as
+Spring weather&mdash;it was extravagant in its responsiveness to the
+momentary mood. He would suggest a whole play in one
+scene; a real flash of philosophy or of psychology would be lost
+in the midst of a slight play on words for the sake of a laugh. One
+finds that often the case in "A Happy Marriage." He was
+never more at home than when squeezing all the human traits
+and humour out of a given situation, which was subsidiary to the
+plot, yet in atmosphere complete in itself. The <i>Hunter's</i> drawing-room
+just after the funeral, in "The Climbers;" the church scene
+in "The Moth and the Flame," which for jocularity and small
+points is the equal of Langdon Mitchell's wedding scene in "The
+New York Idea," though not so sharply incisive in its satire; the
+deck on board ship in "The Stubbornness of Geraldine" (so
+beautifully burlesqued by Weber and Fields as "The Stickiness of
+Gelatine"); and <i>Mr. Roland's</i> rooms in <i>Mrs. Crespigny's</i> flat,
+which almost upset, in its humourous bad taste, the tragedy of
+"The Truth"&mdash;these are instances of his unusual vein. One finds
+it is by these fine points, these obvious clevernesses that Fitch
+paved the way to popular success. But there was far more to
+him than this&mdash;there was the literary sense which gave one the
+feeling of reality in his plays&mdash;not alone because of novelty or
+familiarity of scene, but because of the uttered word.</p>
+
+<p>Human foibles and frailties were, therefore, his specialty. Out
+of his vast product of playwriting, one remembers stories and
+scenes, rather than personages; one recalls characteristics rather
+than characters; one treasures quick interplay of words rather
+than the close reason for such. Because of that, some are right
+in attributing to him a feminine quickness of observation, or
+rather a minute observation for the feminine. That is why he
+determined, in "The City," to dispel the illusion that he could
+not write a man's play, or draw masculine characters. Yet was not
+<i>Sam Coast</i>, in "Her Own Way," almost the equal of <i>Georgiana Carley</i>?</p>
+
+<p>I recall, one midnight&mdash;the week before Mr. Fitch sailed on his
+last trip to Europe&mdash;he read me "The City," two acts of which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_526" id="Page_526">[Pg 526]</a></span>
+were in their final shape, the third in process of completion.
+There used to be a superstition among the managers to the effect
+that if you ever wished to consider a play by Fitch, he must
+be kept from reading it himself; for if he did, you would accept
+it on the spot. All the horror of that powerful arraignment of
+city life, and the equally powerful criticism of country life, was
+brought out on this evening we were together, and I was able to
+see just where, as a stage director, Clyde Fitch must have been
+the mainstay at rehearsals. He never lived to give the final
+touches to his manuscript of "The City,"&mdash;touches which always
+meant so much to him; he was dead by the time rehearsals were
+called, and there slipped from the performance some of the
+significant atmosphere he described to me.</p>
+
+<p>There comes vividly to my mind his questions after the reading&mdash;trying
+out his effects on me, so to speak. Rapidly he reviewed
+the work on the third act he had planned for the morrow, consulting
+with me as though suddenly I had become a collaborator.
+In such a way he must have planned with Mansfield over <i>Brummell</i>;
+thus he may have worked with Julia Marlowe, telling her
+some of the romantic incidents he had drawn from his mother's
+own Maryland love story for "Barbara Frietchie." In the same
+na&iuml;ve spirit, he consulted, by letter, with Arthur Byron for his
+"stardom" in "Major Andr&eacute;"&mdash;which waned so soon after the
+first night.</p>
+
+<p>Everything about the room that evening he read "The City"
+bore evidence of the playwright's personality. The paintings
+and bric-&agrave;-brac, the books&mdash;mostly biography and letters&mdash;the
+tapestries which seemed to blend with the bowls of flowers and
+furniture of French design, the windows looking out on lawns,
+gardens, and a pond with swans upon it, the moonlight on the
+Cupids that kept guard at intervals along the top of a snakelike
+stone fence&mdash;and Fitch, vital, happy in his work, happy in his
+friends, happy in life, as he had planned to live it in the years to
+come. And death waiting him across the water!</p>
+
+<p>"Beau Brummell" began Clyde Fitch's career as a dramatist.
+It was produced at the New York Madison Square Theatre, May
+17, 1890. At that time he had not evinced any determination to
+be a dramatist&mdash;but was writing juvenile sketches for <i>The
+Churchman</i>, afterwards gathered in a charming volume called "The
+Knighting of the Twins, and Ten Other Tales" (1891). Previous
+to this, he had attempted "A Wave of Life"&mdash;a novel whose chief<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_527" id="Page_527">[Pg 527]</a></span>
+value is autobiographic. Then he showed his clever facility at
+dialogue in a collection of "Six Conversations and Some Correspondence;"
+also in "The Smart Set." But, after the success of
+"Brummell," followed by "Fr&eacute;d&eacute;ric Lema&icirc;tre" (December 1,
+1890) for Henry Miller, a dramatic season hardly passed that
+Fitch was not represented on the bill-boards by two or three
+comedies. It was very rarely that he rewrote his dramas under
+new titles; it was unusual for him to use over again material
+previously exploited. Exceptions to this were in the cases of
+"The Harvest," a one-act sketch given by the New York Theatre
+of Arts and Letters (January 26, 1893), afterwards (April 11,
+1898) included as an act of "The Moth and the Flame;" "Mistress
+Betty" (October 15, 1895), for Mme. Modjeska, afterwards
+revamped as "The Toast of the Town" (November 27, 1905) for
+Viola Allen. Interest in the period of Beau Brummell stretched
+over into "The Last of the Dandies" for Beerbohm Tree. But
+otherwise the bulk of his work came each season as a Fitch
+novelty. He often played against himself, the popularity of one
+play killing the chances of the other. For instance, when "Lovers'
+Lane" opened in New York, there were also running "Captain
+Jinks of the Horse Marines," "Barbara Frietchie" and "The
+Climbers." When "The Cowboy and the Lady" was given in
+Philadelphia, "Nathan Hale" beat it in box-office receipts, and
+Fitch wrote to a friend: "If any play is going to beat it, I'd rather
+it was one of mine, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>By the time he was ready to write "The Moth and the Flame,"
+Fitch had won distinction with a variety of picturesque pieces,
+like "His Grace de Grammont," for Otis Skinner, and "Nathan
+Hale," for Goodwin and Maxine Elliott. It may be said to have
+come just when his vivacity was on the increase, for touches in
+it gave foretaste of his later society dramas, and showed his planning,
+in the manner of the French, for excellent theatrical effect.
+He was to become more expert in the use of materials, but no
+whit less clever in his expansion of "small talk" and society
+shallowness.</p>
+
+<p>"The Harvest" is an early example of Fitch's method of workmanship.
+It was carefully planned and quickly written; in
+fact, it was set down on paper while Fitch was on the four o'clock
+train between New York and Boston; his motive was to show
+the dangerous power and fascination of a clever, dissipated,
+attractive man-of-the-world on a young girl, who, in her innocence,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_528" id="Page_528">[Pg 528]</a></span>
+does not understand the warnings given her on all sides.
+The idea grew in his mind, and this growth resulted in "The Moth
+and the Flame," which entered more fully into the "fast" life of a
+man about town, and the dangerous ignorance of the society
+girl. Fitch loved to sketch the smart woman, like <i>Mrs. Lorrimer</i>,
+who, as someone has said, is frivolously constituted, but sharply
+witty and with some depth of heart. The fancy-dress party
+scene is autobiographic, he having attended such an occasion at
+Carroll Beckwith's studio, in New York. In technique, this
+scene is comparable with the one of similar gaiety in "Lord and
+Lady Algy"&mdash;both having an undercurrent of serious strain.
+The tragedy motive is relieved at almost calculated times by
+comedy, which shows that Fitch held to the old dramatic theory
+of comic relief. Often this was irritating, discounting the mood
+he was trying to maintain. He was not as skilful in the use of
+these varying elements as Pinero, with whom he might be
+compared&mdash;not for strength of characterization, for fullness of
+story or for the sheer art of interest, but for creative vitality and
+variety, as well as for literary feeling in the use of materials. But
+more important than all these was his desire to be true to the
+materials he had selected. On this subject he always had much
+to say, and his comments about Truth in the theatre comprise an
+enlightening exposition of his dramatic theory. This it is well to
+examine. In 1901, he adapted, from the French, "Sapho"&mdash;to the
+production of which was attached some unpleasant notoriety&mdash;and
+"The Marriage Game." And of these he wrote (in <i>Harper's
+Weekly</i>), in response to current criticism, as follows:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>It is only fair to myself and to my work done on the two plays to
+say that my intention and desire in both instances were to be faithful
+to the French original, and to have the outcome a resultant moral&mdash;to
+the good. To put it mildly, I do not seem to have created that
+impression exactly in the minds of the public. From their verdict
+and yours I have picked myself up, pulled myself together, and realized
+my failure. I had thought I was taking a building from one
+country and rebuilding it in another with the same stones, but I
+discovered I had apparently pulled down one structure and raised no
+other. Believe me, no one regretted this more than I. But I think
+I have finally learned my lesson. I have learned another thing that
+I can't do, and I have added it to the list of things I sha'n't try to do.
+What I <i>am</i> trying to do is to reflect life of all kinds as I see it. To
+write, first, plays that will interest and mean something; and, after
+that, amuse. I would rather entertain everybody than one body.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_529" id="Page_529">[Pg 529]</a></span>
+And always and in any case with a result to the good. I am trying
+especially to reflect our own life of the present, and to get into the
+heart of the pictures made by the past. To do this I do not consider
+any detail too small, so long as it is not boring. Nor any method
+wrong which I feel to be true. I am naturally not always believed
+in, and I do not always make myself clear. Sometimes I think I am
+misunderstood through laziness. To give one instance, of one or the
+other: in a recent play of mine, 'The Climbers', something which I
+meant to be psychologically true was taken to be a theatrical trick.
+A man who was dishonest in business, but who loved his wife with
+the really strong love that such weak natures are capable of, is asked
+to look that wife in the face and, before a group of angry friends and
+relatives, confess the extent of his crime, his disgrace! I felt, and I
+still feel, the man couldn't look into his wife's eyes and say the
+whole ugly truth. And doubly he couldn't with the to him cruel
+environment of the outraged circle holding back the sympathy of his
+wife from him. He would feel and cry out to her, 'Let me tell you
+alone, if I must tell it, and <i>in the dark, in the dark</i>!' when he could
+not see the heart-breaking shame grow upon her face, nor see his
+own guilty face reflected in her eyes. The end of this sentence he
+would reiterate, grasping it, too, on the impulse, as a means to put
+off the ordeal. 'In the dark,&mdash;later in the dark', he would tell her
+everything. But there is no time to be lost if a public scandal is to be
+averted. The worst must be known at once. The chief friend of
+them all is there. It is he who is to fight hardest to save them. He
+knows the house well, and besides he has seen that very evening, after
+dinner, the lights turned on by the servant with the electric lever. He
+stands beside this lever. He quickly seizes the last sentence of the
+cornered guilty man, and, before the latter can think or retract, cries:
+'Tell it in the dark, then!' and plunges the room in darkness. The
+natural impulse of that defaulter under those circumstances would
+be to blurt out with it; at least so I believe. Such was his vacillating,
+impulsive nature. And for the same reason the attempt to escape
+in the dark, which was silly, futile! It was another sudden impulse;
+had it been otherwise, he was far too sensible to have tried it. I
+developed that scene by taking the place mentally, or trying to, of
+each one of the persons engaged in it. I did not start with the so-called
+'dark scene'. I had no idea I was going to do what I did until
+I reached the moment in my writing when it had to be done&mdash;at least
+done that way or not at all. As it occurred to me, so it would have
+occurred to the friend in the play. And so it did! And knowing this
+evolution of the scene, I cannot think myself that it was 'a theatrical
+trick'. In all cases I try to paint my personages from the inside
+instead of the out, and to cling to human nature as both my starting-point
+and my goal. This is what I want to do and am trying<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_530" id="Page_530">[Pg 530]</a></span>
+to do&mdash;in a sentence&mdash;to tell the Truth in the Theatre. I am trying
+honestly, and my heart is in it. That's all, except that I am glad of
+your belief in me.</p></div>
+
+<p>This frankness and sincerity were typical of Fitch's correspondence
+with everyone who took him seriously. He went to every
+pains to explain himself, and no man more gratefully acknowledged
+earnest attention. It was his quickness to detect in others
+the spark of creative appreciation that made him answer letters
+to perfect strangers, giving them advice as to playwriting. "I like
+the tone of that man's note," he once said to me. "I'll send for
+him; he may be a good actor."</p>
+
+<p>It was not often that he wrote on the theory of his work. There
+is an essay by him, published in 1904, and called "The Play and
+the Public." It is often quoted. But a good thing bears constant
+repetition, and the following sounds Fitch's conviction on a
+fundamental belief:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>I feel myself very strongly the particular value&mdash;a value which,
+rightly or wrongly, I can't help feeling inestimable&mdash;in a modern
+play of reflecting absolutely and truthfully the life and environment
+about us; every class, every kind, every emotion, every motive,
+every occupation, every business, every idleness! Never was life so
+varied, so complex; what a choice, then! Take what strikes you
+most, in the hope it will interest others. Take what suits you most
+to do&mdash;what perhaps you can do best&mdash;and then do it better. Be
+truthful, and then nothing can be too big, nothing should be too
+small, so long as it is here, and <i>there</i>! Apart from the question of
+literature, apart from the question of art, reflect the real thing with
+true observation and with sincere feeling for what it is and what it
+represents, and that is art and literature in a modern play. If you
+inculcate an idea in your play, so much the better for your play and
+for you&mdash;and for your audience. In fact, there is small hope for your
+play <i>as</i> a play if you haven't some small idea in it somewhere and
+somehow, even if it is hidden&mdash;it is sometimes better for you if it is
+hidden, but it must of course be integral. Some ideas are mechanical.
+Then they are no good. These are the ideas for which the author does
+all the work, instead of letting the ideas do the work for him. One
+should write what one sees, but observe under the surface. It is a
+mistake to look at the reflection of the sky in the water of theatrical
+convention. Instead, look up and into the sky of real life
+itself.</p></div>
+
+<p>All sound advice, and a compressed manual of dramatic technique
+for the beginner! But Fitch had the darting eye of a
+migratory interest. He often didn't "follow through," as they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_531" id="Page_531">[Pg 531]</a></span>
+say in golf. With the result that he is often scored for insufficient
+motivation. But my knowledge of him makes me realize he felt
+and saw deeper than his epigrammatic style indicated. His
+technique was therefore often threadbare in spots,&mdash;not of that
+even mesh which makes of Pinero such an exceptional designer.
+I would put Fitch's "Captain Jinks of the Horse Marines" above
+Edward Sheldon's "Romance" for the faithful reproduction of
+early New York atmosphere. I would put it by the side of
+Pinero's "Trelawney of the 'Wells'." But there is no play of
+Fitch's which, for strength, I would hold beside "The Thunderbolt."
+In his feminine analyses, too, he did not probe as deep as
+Pinero.</p>
+
+<p>Within a few months of his death, Fitch was asked to deliver
+an address on the theatre at Harvard and at Yale. He enlarged
+his magazine article on "The Play and the Public" for that
+purpose. It is now easily accessible, included in the fourth volume
+of the Memorial Edition of his plays. It was found among
+his many papers and unfinished manuscripts. There is no
+recent playwright whose "Life and Letters" are more worthy of
+preservation. I have looked through most of the materials;
+have seen letters descriptive of his childhood in Schenectady,
+New York, (he was born, May 2, 1865 in Elmira); have read
+accounts of his student days at Amherst, where vagaries of dress
+used to stir his associates to student pranks; have relished an
+illustrated diary he kept while tutoring in his early years of
+struggle, his father refusing to countenance playwriting instead
+of architecture. These early years were filled with the same vivacity,
+affection and sympathy which later made him such a rare
+friend. It bears repeating what has been often said before&mdash;he
+had a genius for friendship, and an equal genius for losing those
+he did not want.</p>
+
+<p>Such a biography as should be written of his picturesque popularity
+as a playwright would mostly be autobiographic. For a
+letter from Fitch had rare flavour, more personal than his plays
+but of the same Fitchean quality. It would, as well, be a personal
+record of the stage, and would set at rest many myths that have
+floated around his name&mdash;such as William Winter wilfully circulated
+about "Beau Brummell."<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_532" id="Page_532">[Pg 532]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"The Moth and the Flame" is here reproduced because it has
+never before been issued, and should be made available to the
+student of American Drama. To say that it is typically Fitchean
+does not mean that, in technique or in characterization, it is his
+best. But it is confession that whatever he wrote bore that
+incommunicable touch which gives him a unique position&mdash;a
+position no American playwright thus far has been able to usurp.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Since this was written, it has been announced that a volume, "Clyde Fitch
+and his Letters," is being prepared by the Editors of the "Memorial Edition" of
+Fitch's plays.</p></div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_533" id="Page_533">[Pg 533]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>LYCEUM THEATRE.</h2>                            <p><span class="left">&nbsp;</span><span class="right">  12th Season.</span><br />
+</p>
+<p><span class="left">NEW YORK THEATRE CO.,</span>         <span class="right">PROPRIETORS</span><br />
+
+<span class="left">DANIEL FROHMAN,</span>         <span class="right">MANAGER</span><br /></p>
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+
+<p class="center">WEEK COMMENCING MONDAY EVENING, APRIL 11, 1898.</p>
+
+<p><span class="left">Evenings at 8.30.</span> <span class="right">Thursday and Saturday Matinees, at 2.15.</span><br /></p>
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+
+<p class="center">DANIEL FROHMAN takes pleasure in presenting</p>
+
+<h2>THE KELCEY-SHANNON</h2>
+<h4>COMPANY,</h4>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Herbert Kelcey, Effie Shannon, Wm. J. LeMoyne, Sarah Cowell<br />
+LeMoyne</i> and their organization, under the management of<br />
+<br />
+SAMUEL F. KINGSTON, presenting<br />
+</p>
+<h2>THE MOTH AND THE FLAME</h2>
+
+<p class="center">an Original Play, in Three Acts.</p>
+
+<p class="center">By CLYDE FITCH.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 25%;' />
+
+<h4>CAST OF CHARACTERS.</h4>
+
+<p><span class="left">EDWARD FLETCHER</span> <span class="right">Mr. KELCEY</span><br />
+<span class="left">MR. DAWSON</span> <span class="right">Mr. WM. J. L<small>E</small>MOYNE</span><br />
+<span class="left">MR. WOLTON</span> <span class="right">Mr. E. W. THOMAS</span><br />
+<span class="left">DOUGLAS RHODES</span> <span class="right">Mr. BRUCE M<small>C</small>RAE</span><br />
+<span class="left">JOHNSTONE</span> <span class="right">Mr. EDWARD SEE</span><br />
+<span class="left">FANSHAW</span> <span class="right">Mr. DAVID TORRENCE</span><br />
+<span class="left">TRIMMINS</span> <span class="right">Mr. EDW. H. WILKINSON</span><br />
+<span class="left">CLERGYMAN</span> <span class="right">Mr. SYLVESTER DEEHAN</span><br />
+<span class="left">HOWES</span> <span class="right">Mr. EDWIN JAMES</span><br />
+<span class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;MARION WOLTON</span> <span class="right">Miss SHANNON</span><br />
+<span class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;MRS. LORRIMER</span> <span class="right">Mrs. SARAH COWELL L<small>E</small>MOYNE</span><br />
+<span class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;MRS. WOLTON</span> <span class="right">Mrs. ISABEL WALDRON</span><br />
+<span class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;JEANNETTE GROSS</span> <span class="right">Miss ELEANOR MORETTI</span><br />
+<span class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;ETHEL</span> <span class="right">Miss LEILA ELLIS</span><br />
+<span class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;KITTY</span> <span class="right">Miss EDNA PHILLIPS</span><br />
+<span class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;GERTRUDE</span> <span class="right">Miss ETHEL KINGSTON</span><br />
+<span class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;BLANCHE</span> <span class="right">Miss MARY HANSON</span><br />
+<span class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;BESSY</span> <span class="right">Miss MAMIE DUNN</span><br />
+<span class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;MRS. FLETCHER, S<small>R</small>.</span> <span class="right">Mrs. FRANCES FERREN</span><br />
+<span class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;MAID</span> <span class="right">Miss EMMA JANVIER</span><br />
+</p>
+<p class="center">Guests, Bridesmaids, etc., by Pupils of the Stanhope-Wheatcroft School.<br />
+<br />
+Produced under the stage direction of the Author.<br />
+<br />
+Costumes for Act I. from special designs executed by Maurice Herrmann.<br />
+<br />
+Programme continued on second page following.<br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_534" id="Page_534">[Pg 534]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="programme">
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#ACT_I">ACT I.</a>&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='center'><i>Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence Wolton</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='center'><i>At Home</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='center'><i>Tuesday Evening, January</i> &mdash;&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='center'><i>at Ten O'clock</i>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><i>Children's Costumes</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>&nbsp;&nbsp;<i>de rigueur.</i></td><td align='center'>&nbsp;</td><td align='right'><i>&mdash;&mdash; East 69th Street.</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>&nbsp;</td><td align='center'>&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#ACT_II">ACT II.</a>&mdash;One year later&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>&nbsp;</td><td align='center'><i>Mrs. Lawrence Wolton</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>&nbsp;</td><td align='center'><i>requests the honor of your presence</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>&nbsp;</td><td align='center'><i>at the Marriage of her Daughter,</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>&nbsp;</td><td align='center'><i>Marion,</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>&nbsp;</td><td align='center'><i>to</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>&nbsp;</td><td align='center'><i>Mr. Edward Houghton Fletcher,</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>&nbsp;</td><td align='center'><i>Thursday, February 10th,</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>&nbsp;</td><td align='center'><i>at Five o'clock,</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>&nbsp;</td><td align='center'><i>St. Hubert's Chapel, New York.</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>&nbsp;</td><td align='center'>&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#ACT_III">ACT III.</a>&mdash;THE FOLLOWING DAY.</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_535" id="Page_535">[Pg 535]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_MOTH_AND_THE_FLAME" id="THE_MOTH_AND_THE_FLAME"></a>THE MOTH AND THE FLAME</h2>
+
+<h3><i>By</i> <span class="smcap">Clyde Fitch</span></h3>
+
+<p class="center"><small>COPYRIGHT, 1908</small></p>
+
+<p class="center"><small>ALL RIGHTS RESERVED</small></p>
+
+<p class="center"><small>BY CLYDE FITCH AND ALICE KAUSER</small></p>
+
+<p><small>Copyright, 1919, by E. P. Dutton &amp; Company, Alice Kauser, and Frank E. Whitman
+and Bernard M. L. Ernst, as Executors of the Estate of Alice M. Fitch,
+deceased.</small></p>
+
+
+<p>[The Editor wishes to record here, in memoriam, his grateful
+appreciation of the desire shown by the late Mrs. Fitch to have
+in the present Collection a hitherto unpublished play by her son,
+Clyde Fitch. Through her courtesy, "The Moth and the Flame" is
+here included.]</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_536" id="Page_536">[Pg 536]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CAST OF CHARACTERS</h2>
+
+<p class="center">
+<span class="smcap">Edward Fletcher</span><br />
+<span class="smcap">Mr Dawson</span><br />
+<span class="smcap">Mr Wolton</span><br />
+<span class="smcap">Douglas Rhodes</span><br />
+<span class="smcap">Johnstone</span><br />
+<span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span><br />
+<span class="smcap">Trimmins</span><br />
+<span class="smcap">Clergyman</span><br />
+<span class="smcap">Howes</span><br />
+<span class="smcap">Marion Wolton</span><br />
+<span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span><br />
+<span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span><br />
+<span class="smcap">Jeanette Gross</span><br />
+<span class="smcap">Ethel</span><br />
+<span class="smcap">Kitty</span><br />
+<span class="smcap">Gertrude</span><br />
+<span class="smcap">Blanche</span><br />
+<span class="smcap">Maid</span><br />
+<span class="smcap">Mrs. Fletcher</span><br />
+<br />
+<i>Guests, Bridesmaids, Choristers, Servants and others</i>.<br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_537" id="Page_537">[Pg 537]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="ACT_I" id="ACT_I"></a>ACT I.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Scene</span>. <i>The First Act takes place in the</i> <span class="smcap">Wolton's</span> <i>house during a
+large fancy ball. All the guests are in children's costumes&mdash;that
+being insisted upon in the invitations. The stage represents a
+reception-room; the end of a conservatory, or ball-room, being
+seen through a large archway. In the upper right hand corner
+of the stage is a small stage built with curtains and foot-lights, for
+an amateur vaudeville performance, which is taking place.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>At rise of curtain the room is filled with guests in costume, on chairs
+before improvised stage, and the curtain of stage is just falling, as
+one of the Lady Guests&mdash;who, dressed (and blacked) as a small
+Darky Girl, has been singing a popular negro ballad ("Warmest
+Baby.") The mimic curtain rises again, owing to the applause of
+the mimic audience. The chorus of song is repeated and the
+curtain again falls to applause. There is a general movement
+among guests&mdash;with laughter and conversation.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Discovered</span>. <span class="smcap">Marion Wolton</span>, <i>dressed in Empire Child's gown,
+is sitting in one of the third row of chairs next the foot-lights.
+Up to now her back is partly turned toward the audience.</i> <span class="smcap">Kitty
+Rand</span>, <i>dressed in short skirts, is just behind her</i>.</p></div>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> [<i>Leaning over to</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>.] I think, Marion, this was
+really a most amusing idea of yours, having us all come as children.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas Rhodes</span>, <i>in white sailor costume. He meets</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs.
+Wolton</span> <i>who enters. They talk.</i></p></div>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Kitty</span>.] Your costume, Kitty, is charming.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> [<i>With a ball on rubber cord.</i>] My dear, I'm sure I look
+a sight. I feel as if it were bathing hour at Narragansett.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Here's Bessie. How splendid she was. [<i>Rises.</i>]
+[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Bessie</span>. <i>She laughs as she is greeted by shouts of laughter
+and applause by guests. She joins</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>, <i>who shakes her hand</i>.]
+You were too funny, Bessie. [<i>A guest rises and offers seat to</i>
+<span class="smcap">Bessie</span>. <i>She accepts it and sits.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> [<i>Monkey; white kilt suit.</i>] [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Bessie</span> <i>as she
+sits</i>.] Yes. Isn't this an awfully lovely party? [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span>.]
+Here, Fanshaw, it's your turn.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_538" id="Page_538">[Pg 538]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Guests</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">All</span>. Yes, come on Fanshaw, etc. [<span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span>
+<i>exits</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Rhodes</span> <i>comes from</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span>, <i>nodding pleasantly to guests
+as he passes round behind them, to</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>. <i>He shakes her hand.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Why so late, Douglas?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> I was dining with Mrs. Lorrimer; but I hope
+you've saved me a seat by you. [<span class="smcap">Blanche</span> <i>exits, ready for stage</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> I'm sorry, but I haven't. There's the curtain.</p>
+
+<p><i>She sits and</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span> <i>takes a place back of guests, shaking hands
+with</i> <span class="smcap">Trimmins</span> <i>as he does so. Mimic curtain rises, music begins,
+all interrupt with "Sh-h."</i> <span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span> <i>enters on mimic stage,
+dressed as Little Lord Fauntleroy, and sings. Mimic curtain
+falls to applause. Curtain is raised. Black rag-baby thrown to
+him during song.</i> <span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span> <i>enters, bows, and, as he does so,</i>
+<span class="smcap">Blanche</span> <i>throws a small bouquet of flowers to him. This he
+catches and makes entrance upon stage by jumping over mimic
+foot-lights. He is congratulated and thanked by</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>and
+resumes his seat</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Music begins. All interrupt again with "Sh-h." Curtain is
+raised, and enter</i> <span class="smcap">Ethel</span>, <i>dressed as a child of 1840, in white and
+green. She comes forward and sings</i> ("<i>Henrietta</i>"), <i>with orchestral
+accompaniment, a flute obligato being a feature of the latter,
+which, every little while, indulges in loud variations, entirely
+drowning the singer's voice, much to her annoyance, and the only
+half-suppressed amusement of the guests. As she reaches the
+chorus all</i> (<i>at</i> <span class="smcap">Marion's</span> <i>suggestion</i>) <i>join in with her and finish
+the song</i>. <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>rises, giving the signal that the entertainment
+is over. Servants come in and take away most of the chairs, leaving
+one in centre of stage and three up toward the left centre. All rise
+and form groups; those of guests near the door move into ball-room
+and off.</i> <span class="smcap">Ethel</span> <i>enters, and</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>at once greets her,</i> <span class="smcap">Kitty</span> <i>and</i>
+<span class="smcap">Johnstone</span> <i>joining them</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Thank you ever so much.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> Yes, indeed. Isn't this an awfully lovely party.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> [<i>With large hoople and stick; quickly, much put out</i>.]
+My dear Marion, I could choke that flute player.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Don't be selfish, Ethel; the man wanted to be
+heard. [<i>Goes up to</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span>.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_539" id="Page_539">[Pg 539]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> If I were a witch, I'd curse him with asthma. Mr.
+Johnstone, go and curse him for me.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> With pleasure.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Just give him a piece of my mind. [<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Girl</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> [<i>Flatteringly.</i>] He doesn't deserve such a gift. But isn't this a lovely party? Will you excuse me? [<i>He goes
+up stage to</i> <span class="smcap">Blanche</span>, <i>offers his arm, which she takes, and they exit.</i>
+<span class="smcap">Kitty</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Ethel</span> <i>watch</i> <span class="smcap">Blanche</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Johnstone</span>, <i>amused.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Ethel.</span>] Just look at Blanche. Do you suppose she's going to&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> She's going to with all her might and main, if he
+will only ask her.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> A large if&mdash; [<i>Laughing.</i> <span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Gertrude</span>
+<i>join</i> <span class="smcap">Ethel</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Kitty</span> <i>down stage.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> Looks as if Johnny were getting pretty stuck on
+Blanche, doesn't it? [<i>Goes to</i> <span class="smcap">Kitty</span>. <span class="smcap">Trimmins</span> <i>moves up centre.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Yes, or just the other way round. [<i>All laugh.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Gertrude.</span> Who are you dancing the cotillon with, Ethel?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Don't know. I've promised two men, but I haven't
+made up my mind who I'll dance with yet.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> A nice person to engage for a partner. [<i>Calling.</i>]
+Trimmins!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Sh-h! He's one of the men I've promised.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> [<i>Laughing.</i>] Never mind. I'm the other. [<i>All
+laugh.</i> <span class="smcap">Gertrude</span> <i>says</i>, "Oh, Ethel!" <span class="smcap">Gertrude</span> <i>goes toward</i>
+<span class="smcap">Marion, Ethel</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Kitty</span> <i>at same time.</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>exits.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Trimmins</span>.] Who are you dancing the cotillon
+with, Trimmins?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Trimmins.</span> Ethel Stevens!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> Who?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Trimmins.</span> Ethel Stevens!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> I'll bet a fiver you're not. She's dancing with me.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Trimmins.</span> [<i>Very pleased.</i>] Delighted! I owe you the five
+with joy. [<i>Rushes</i> <span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span> <i>out of the way. Crossing to</i> <span class="smcap">Gertrude</span>.]
+Will you give me the pleasure? [<span class="smcap">Douglas</span> <i>out at back,
+exits.</i>] Thank you. [<i>Offers his arm, which</i> <span class="smcap">Gertrude</span> <i>takes, and
+they go out at back.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> Well!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Are you going to stand perfectly still and be robbed
+in that manner? [<i>Laughing.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_540" id="Page_540">[Pg 540]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> Well, but what am I&mdash; [<i>Interrupted by one
+of the girl guests, who says</i>, "I'm here!"] Oh, so you are. [<i>Puts his
+arm in hers, and they run off together.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Marion, isn't Mr. Ned Fletcher coming to-night?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Yes. [<i>Exit.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> I'm so glad; he's quite the most amusing man in
+town this winter. [<i>Sitting on chair which servant left.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> And so many people won't ask him to their houses,
+you know. Mamma won't.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> Well, you know, your mother's a ridiculous person;
+she asks lots of awfully fast men!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Yes, but they are all relatives.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> [<i>Putting arm around</i> <span class="smcap">Ethel</span>, <i>pricks her finger.</i>] I
+don't believe Net Fletcher is as bad as people hint. He's too
+good looking. [<i>Fixing dress.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> And I don't care whether he's bad or not, he's
+charming enough to make up for it. Besides, I suppose all
+men are bad.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> Oh&mdash;I don't know.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> I mean all nice men.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> Where has Mr. Fletcher been before this winter?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> My dear, he's one of those men who live all over the
+place&mdash;most of the time in Europe&mdash;but he's been here always
+off and on&mdash;and in Newport and in Lenox he has yachts and
+things, don't you know! [<i>Exits down right.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Enters.</i>] Girls, will you go into the ball-room,
+till the men get the tables ready here? [<i>She speaks aside to
+one of the servants, and exits. Servants bring on small table and
+place it with bottles, lunch, etc., a broken glass covered with napkins
+to fall on stage. Place seven chairs about table. Exit.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> <i>Of course.</i> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Kitty</span>, <i>crossing to her.</i>] Do you
+notice how she won't talk about Fletcher and won't listen to
+any one else either?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> My dear, she's heels over head.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Poor Douglas Rhodes! [<i>Half smiling, in part satire.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> Serves him right for hanging around her all his life!
+Why didn't he flirt with one of us girls for a time, if only to make
+her jealous! [<span class="smcap">Ethel</span> <i>sees</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span> <i>enter, and tries to warn</i> <span class="smcap">Kitty</span>.
+<span class="smcap">Ethel</span> <i>gives</i> <span class="smcap">Kitty</span> <i>a violent pull of the arm to warn her to stop
+speaking of</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span>.] You can't stay here; we're driven out.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_541" id="Page_541">[Pg 541]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> Come, help us make fun of the other people.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> In a few minutes. I must give you a chance to
+make fun of me!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> Oh, we've been doing that for years! [<span class="smcap">Ethel</span> <i>blows</i>
+<span class="smcap">Douglas'</span> <i>whistle which he has suspended from neck, pulling
+it out of his pocket.</i> <span class="smcap">Ethel</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Kitty</span> <i>smile coquettishly at</i>
+<span class="smcap">Douglas</span> <i>and exit into ball-room, arm in arm. Distant music off
+stage.</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span> <i>follows up centre. A pause. Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Marion.</span>
+<span class="smcap">Douglas</span>, <i>up stage, looks admiringly at her, and smiles. Then,
+smiling and putting himself into a boyish attitude, he says boyishly.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Hello, Molly!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Smiling back, catching his mood, speaks girlishly.</i>]
+Hello, Dug! It does take one back to old days, doesn't it!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> That was what I was thinking of, Marion, the days
+of dancing-school. How good you were to always be my partner,
+even though I couldn't reverse without treading on your toes!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Smiling.</i>] You were a bad dancer&mdash;and death to
+slippers.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> And the children's parties, with the old games,
+"Post Office," "Copenhagen," "Kiss in the Ring."</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Smiling mischievously.</i>] You were good enough at
+"Kiss in the Ring" to make up for your not reversing.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> [<i>With real sentiment, crosses to her.</i>] Do you remember
+it all as well as I do?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Realizing his sentiment, and trying to change their
+mood, but pleasantly.</i>] Of course I do! We were great friends
+then, as we are now, and as I hope we always will be, Douglas.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> But if we played the old games again, would it be
+the same?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> No, no, things are never the same.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> But would you let me choose you always? Would
+you pretend not to see me coming, so I could slap your hands on
+the Copenhagen rope and take my reward? If we played "Post
+Office," would <i>I</i> have all my letters from <i>your</i> lips! Would
+you mind if, in "bow to the wittiest, kneel to the prettiest, and kiss
+the one you loved best," I choose you again, openly, for all three?
+Would you give me <i>all</i> your dances?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>More serious, though still smiling kindly, sweetly.</i>]
+That's just it, Douglas! You can reverse now, and there are
+so many other girls wanting partners!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> But&mdash; [<i>Interrupted.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_542" id="Page_542">[Pg 542]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Besides, after all, we're only children <i>outside</i> to-night;
+our <i>hearts</i> have come of age!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Yes, Marion, but, boy's and man's, my heart's the
+same. I want the same partner I did then, only I want her
+for the game of life!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> I am so sorry!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Sorry? Then you won't let your hands lie on the
+rope for me any more?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> I am very fond of you, Douglas, and I always
+was, but&mdash; [<i>She hesitates.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> [<i>A little bitterly, disappointed.</i>] I know what
+you mean. I was all right for dancing-school, but life is a more
+serious matter&mdash; [<span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>goes to chair and sits down.</i>] I
+know I'm not like you, Marion&mdash;I know what an intellectual
+woman you are, and what an ordinary sort of fellow I am. But I
+<i>love</i> you! and I hoped&mdash; [<i>He breaks off and continues with his
+first idea.</i>] You went to a woman's college, and I <i>only</i> to a <i>man's</i>&mdash;You
+made a study of sociology&mdash;I, [<i>Smiling.</i>] principally of athletics.
+I know I never read books, and you seem to read everything.
+But I love you. You have your clubs for working girls,
+your charities; I know the busy, helpful life you lead. You have
+so much in it, I was in hopes that what room was left for a <i>husband</i>
+was so little, even <i>I</i> could fill it. And somehow or other I've
+always taken it for granted you more or less understood, and
+were&mdash;willing.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> I was&mdash;once&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> You were?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> There was no one in the world I liked so much to
+be with as you, and I think I, too, believed my happiness was
+in your hands, and that some day we would decide together it was
+so. But I lately&mdash; [<i>She hesitates.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Some one else?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> I don't like you one bit less, Douglas, only&mdash; [<i>Rises.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Only you liked some one else more! I was afraid
+so. I've heard whispers and guesses&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Don't let it make any difference with <i>us</i>, Douglas!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> You love him?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Yes.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Very much?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> You see, every one is against him, and I feel that
+I have a chance to save him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_543" id="Page_543">[Pg 543]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> You believe in him?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Shortly.</i>] Yes.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Would you believe anything against him?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>On the defensive, indignant.</i>] <i>No!</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> If some one told you of something dishonourable
+this man had done?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> I would suspect the motive of the person who told
+me. Do you think I haven't heard plenty of gossip against
+him? Every girl I know has done her best to take away his
+character, and <i>begged me to introduce him to her</i> in the same
+breath.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> And if I spoke against him?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Leaning on back of chair.</i>] I know I couldn't
+help it, after what you have told me; I should have to feel
+you might be influenced by jealousy.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> To <i>unjustly</i> accuse a man?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Oh, Douglas, no, of course you would believe what
+you said, but I wouldn't trust your judgment. Don't I know
+every one is down on him. Even you men; are all the men in
+New York so proud of their past lives&mdash;not to mention the
+<i>present</i> of several I know?&mdash;Well, if men turn a cold shoulder,
+then we women must give him our hands.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> You girls don't understand.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Oh, girls understand a good deal nowadays. Society
+and some of the newspapers attend to that. He doesn't pretend
+to be a saint to me&mdash;I find him perfectly frank&mdash;and I am afraid
+he has been rather fast! But I don't believe he is capable of an
+outright dishonourable action, and nothing would make me believe it!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> No proof?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Only the proof of my own eyes. When I see him
+do something contemptible, then I'll believe <i>half</i> the stories
+I hear of him! [<i>Moving a little up centre.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> I see you <i>do</i> love him.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> I do, though you are the only person I have confessed
+it to,&mdash;not even to him&mdash;and forgive me, [<i>Down a little.</i>]
+but I never liked you less than I do now when you have spoken
+against him. [<i>Up to arch.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> [<i>Following her.</i>] No, tell me you will forget it, and
+keep me the same old friend, and I'll promise not to speak against
+him to you again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_544" id="Page_544">[Pg 544]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Smiling.</i>] Very well&mdash; [<i>They shake hands.</i>] Why,
+I want you two to be the best of friends&mdash;you <i>must</i> be&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> [<i>Also smiling.</i>] Oh, I don't promise that&mdash;I haven't
+given you up yet, and I sha'n't until&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Smiling.</i>] When&mdash;?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> [<i>Smiling.</i>] Until I see you going into the church
+to be married.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> You'll say nothing more against Ned?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Not to you. [<i>Moving down, right centre.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Oh, but you will to others? [<i>Follows.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> I will say what I have to say to&mdash;<i>him.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> To <i>him?</i></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>. <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span> <i>is dressed in
+dark sailor clothes.</i></p></div>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> Marion, here's another little boy. [<span class="smcap">Marion</span>
+<i>turns and greets</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>, <i>going to him.</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>
+<i>see each other and say</i> "Good evening" <i>pleasantly.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> It's too bad you missed the vaudeville.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> Did <i>you</i> do anything. [<span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>laughs and exits
+with</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas</span> <i>turns around quickly, annoyed, to speak to</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span>,
+<i>but, in his quick turning and in his movement of annoyance, keeping
+his eyes on</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>, <i>he has struck glasses and
+a bottle on the little supper-table beside them. They crash on the
+floor. He and</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span> <i>both start.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Oh! Mrs. Wolton, forgive me; how clumsy!
+[<i>Starts to pick up.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> No, never mind. [<i>As</i> <span class="smcap">Servant</span> <i>enters</i>.] Here
+is Howes&mdash; [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Servant</span>.] Howes, see to this, please, at once.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> Yes, m'm. Please, Mr. Dawson is here to see Mr.
+Wolton.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> Mr. Dawson, my brother! Why, he's in Boston,
+Howes.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> Beg pardon, m'm, but he must have returned to-day.
+Most important, he says, m'm. Where shall I show him?
+The ladies and gentlemen are playing "Blind Man's Buff"
+in Mr. Wolton's room.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> This is the quietest place. Show Mr. Dawson in
+here. Where is Mr. Wolton?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_545" id="Page_545">[Pg 545]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> [<i>Trying not to smile.</i>] He's blind-folded, m'm!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> [<i>Smiling.</i>] Tell him.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> Yes, m'm. [<i>Exits.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Shall we join the game?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> Yes, come, I will take Mr. Wolton's place! I
+haven't played Blind Man's Buff for&mdash; [<i>She calculates a
+moment, and then speaks amusedly.</i>] Good gracious!&mdash;<i>never
+mind how many years</i>!!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Oh, not so many as all that, I am sure! [<i>They go
+out at back.</i></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Servant</span> <i>with</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span> <i>in cutaway coat and vest and usual
+trousers.</i> <span class="smcap">Servant</span> <i>at once begins to pick up the debris made by</i>
+<span class="smcap">Douglas</span>.</p></div>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> What's going on here, Howes?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> A children's party, sir.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> A what?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> A children's party, sir.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Who are the children?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> Mr. Wolton and Miss Wolton, sir, and her friends.
+Mr. Wolton's playing games now, sir, but he said he would join
+you in a minute.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> [<i>Out loud, involuntarily, but speaking to himself&mdash;very
+seriously, almost tragically.</i>] Playing games! My God!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> Yes, sir&mdash;one don't know what rich folks'll do
+next, sir. <i>We're</i> in hopes, in the kitchen, they'll take to pretending
+they're the servants, sir, and turn us loose in the ball-room. [<i>Smiling. Exits.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> [<i>Who hardly hears</i> <span class="smcap">Servant</span>.] Playing games, with
+ruin and disgrace staring him in the face. [<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Mr. Wolton</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Wolton.</span> [<i>Flushed and gay&mdash;an elderly man in knickerbockers
+and evening coat, a sort of English Court costume. The
+handkerchief, which was tied around his eyes in the game, has
+slipped, and lies about his neck.</i>] Well, Fred, what's the good
+news?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> The worst there could be!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Wolton.</span> [<i>Half whispers.</i>] What do you mean!!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> [<i>Dragging off the Blind Man's Buff handkerchief from</i>
+<span class="smcap">Wolton's</span> <i>neck</i>.] What do you mean by going in for all this
+tomfoolery, to-night, with ruin and disgrace ready for you in the
+morning?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_546" id="Page_546">[Pg 546]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Wolton.</span> So soon&mdash;?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> How much longer did you think you could stave it
+off?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Wolton.</span> [<i>Sinks exhausted into a chair.</i>] I didn't know.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Why didn't you tell me your credit was as exhausted
+in Boston as here? [<i>Taking chair from table, and sitting right of</i>
+<span class="smcap">Wolton</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Wolton.</span> I thought, with you doing the negotiating, it
+mightn't be!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Well, it is; do you hear me, you haven't any such
+thing as <i>credit there</i> nor <i>here!</i> nor anywhere, for aught I know!
+To-morrow is the last day of grace. Your sister-in-law has to pay
+this money?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Wolton.</span> Yes.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> What did you let her buy that house for?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Wolton.</span> [<i>Testily.</i>] How could I help it! My brother
+didn't appoint me her guardian! He simply left her money in
+trust in my hands!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> "In trust in your hands!" [<i>Laughs cruelly.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Wolton.</span> Don't do that!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> And you speculated with it, and lost every cent!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Wolton.</span> Yes.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> What a scoundrel you are! [<span class="smcap">Wolton</span> <i>squirms
+miserably in his chair.</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span> <i>adds quietly</i>.] And yet I don't
+suppose there's at this moment a more popular man in New
+York, socially, than you.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Wolton.</span> No, I don't believe there is!&mdash;but a damned lot
+of good it does me!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Will your sister-in-law accept her ruin quietly?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Wolton.</span> No, she's never liked me; she'll take pleasure in
+exposing me!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> But for your <i>wife</i> and <i>child's</i> sake!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Wolton.</span> You know very well she <i>hates them</i>! They have
+never taken her up; she wasn't possible, socially. [<span class="smcap">Dawson</span>
+<i>laughs again bitterly</i>.] <i>Don't</i> do that!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Well, then, after ruining yourself and your brother's
+wife, you must ruin your <i>own</i>!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Wolton.</span> [<i>Alarmed, uneasy</i>.] What do you mean?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> I mean that my sister's own money is enough to
+pay for your sister's silence. Don't you understand? Your
+sister mustn't know, of course, that you've stolen her fortune.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_547" id="Page_547">[Pg 547]</a></span>
+Instead, your wife must be told,&mdash;poor Laura&mdash;and for her
+daughter's sake, she must consent to beggar herself. Her bonds
+will about meet the payment of the house to-morrow&mdash;they must
+be sold the first thing&mdash;I will see to it.&mdash;&mdash; [<i>As he speaks, he is
+looking</i> <span class="smcap">Wolton</span> <i>straight in the face. Something in</i> <span class="smcap">Wolton's</span> <i>face
+grows upon him with conviction as he speaks his last few words.
+He breaks off suddenly</i>.] What! you've taken hers, too! [<i>He
+leans over</i> <span class="smcap">Wolton</span> <i>in the chair, his hands on his shoulders, close
+to his neck, in a rage. Rises.</i>] You've beggared <i>my sister</i>, your
+wife and child! You&mdash; [<i>Interrupted.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Wolton.</span> [<i>With a big effort, rises, throwing off</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson's</span> <i>hands</i>.]
+Sh!&mdash;For God's sake, lower your voice! You'll be heard!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> [<i>With a change of tone, but speaking with utter contempt</i>.]
+By a couple hundred fools! To-morrow <i>thousands</i> will
+hear of your dirty dishonour!! [<i>Going toward right a little</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Wolton.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span>.] But <i>you</i>, you have money&mdash;won't
+you come to my rescue?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> I couldn't if I would. You have borrowed half a
+fortune of me already. What I have left must go to take care
+of my sister and niece. Do you think I'd support <i>you</i>! No,
+the <i>State</i> will do that.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Wolton.</span> That!! You'd let me go to&mdash;?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> You'll get twenty years at least!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Wolton.</span> You won't help me <i>escape</i>!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> No.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Wolton.</span> But Laura? she loves me, and Marion. <i>They</i>
+will suffer for me; I may be weakly dishonourable, but I've
+always loved them, and they me. Besides, any public dishonour
+which comes to my name must touch theirs too.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> I'm not so sure about that&mdash;I think there is material
+for a divorce here.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Wolton.</span> A divorce! My God, must I lose everything!
+Show a little pity, Fred! Remember the old days at school;
+was I a bad boy? We were chums for years, you know it!&mdash;You
+were my best man when I married Laura, and you were
+the gayest at the wedding! It's only been this curse of gambling
+with the stocks that has driven me to the devil,&mdash;that and my
+cursed luck.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> <i>Luck</i> has nothing to do with <i>honour</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Wolton.</span> You don't know&mdash;oftener than you think, it has
+everything! [<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Servant</span>.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_548" id="Page_548">[Pg 548]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> Supper is ready, sir. Can we have this room?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Yes, Howes, I'm going!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> Thank you, sir. [<i>Exits.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Wolton.</span> Give me a word of hope, Fred!&mdash;something!
+What are you going to do?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Nothing till to-morrow morning.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Wolton.</span> And that's all you have to say?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> All. [<i>The two men stand looking at each other a
+moment in a sort of grim embarrassment, then</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span> <i>exits.
+Music. It must be evident to the audience, though not to the hysterically
+excited</i> <span class="smcap">Wolton</span>, <i>that</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span> <i>has a little, a very little,
+pity, but doesn't wish to show it,&mdash;at any rate not yet</i>. <span class="smcap">Wolton</span>, <i>who
+has stood a moment lost in thought, an expression of despair in his
+face, shudders and comes to himself. He looks around to see that
+he is alone. He grasps his forehead tight a moment in his right
+hand, drops his hand, and with compressed lips nods his head
+determinedly. He is standing by one of the smaller supper-tables;
+he looks down at it and takes up a silver knife at one of the places,
+feels its dull edge, and throws it down sneering. A</i> <span class="smcap">Servant</span>
+<i>appears</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Wolton.</span> Howes?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> [<i>Coming into the room and going to</i> <span class="smcap">Wolton</span>.] Yes, sir.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Wolton.</span> I am going up to my room. [<i>With a motion of his
+head, indicating upstairs.</i>] I am not feeling well. If my absence
+should be noticed, explain to Mrs. Wolton, but do not disturb
+me&mdash;do you understand?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> Yes, sir.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Wolton.</span> <i>On no account am I to be disturbed.</i> No one is to
+come to me until <i>after</i> the party is entirely over. <i>Don't make
+any mistake about that.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> No, sir.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Wolton</span>, <i>who is half way between centre and door right, turns for
+a moment, looking about the room. He is seized with a nervous
+twitching of his muscles. He clenches his fists, grinds his teeth
+to control himself, and, bowing his head, goes from the room by
+door</i>. <span class="smcap">Kitty</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Johnstone</span> <i>appear in ball-room doorway, at
+exit of</i> <span class="smcap">Wolton</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> [<i>Looking into room on stage.</i>] Here's a dear table, all
+by itself. [<i>Speaks as she appears in the doorway. The two turn and
+look off right at</i> <span class="smcap">Ethel</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span> <i>who are following them slowly</i>.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_549" id="Page_549">[Pg 549]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> Come along, Fanshaw, here's a lovely, quiet
+table, where we can say just what we like about everybody!
+[<i>They stand in doorway a moment, looking off right, waiting for the
+other couple with their backs to</i> <span class="smcap">Wolton</span> <i>and room</i>. <span class="smcap">Ethel</span> <i>and</i>
+<span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span> <i>join the first couple, and all come forward, speaking.
+The following speeches are made as they come forward to table</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Ethel</span>.] How you dawdle.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Jack Wright tore my lace.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> Trying to kiss her in Copenhagen. [<i>They are about
+the table.</i> <span class="smcap">Johnstone</span> <i>at once sits down first in the chair the</i>
+<span class="smcap">Servant</span> <i>was holding for one of the ladies</i>. <span class="smcap">Servant</span> <i>then opens a
+bottle of champagne and pours in the glasses</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> [<i>Sitting.</i>] Come on.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> Look at him!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> What a rude little beast you are, Johnny!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> Get up! [<i>Pushing him.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> Well, you girls dawdle so! [<span class="smcap">Kitty</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Ethel</span>
+<i>sit. Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span> <i>from ball-room, dressed as a Watteau
+Shepherdess. She is greeted by a chorus of four. Carries lamb and
+crook.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel</span>, <span class="smcap">Kitty</span>, <span class="smcap">Johnstone</span>, <span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span>. Oh, look at Mrs.
+Lorrimer!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Pirouettes once around, and makes a bob
+curtsy.</i>] Good evening. [<i>Laughing.</i>] Well, I don't want to
+throw bouquets at myself, but I don't think it's bad.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Kitty</span>. You're splendid!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> Love&mdash;&mdash; [<i>Sits.</i>]</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> Get Mrs. Lorrimer a chair. [<i>They all move to make
+more room for her, and</i> <span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span> <i>gets an extra chair from arch</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> I'm afraid I'm a fifth spoke in your wheel!
+[<i>She sits. A</i> <span class="smcap">Servant</span> <i>passes them bouillon which they take and eat.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Don't be foolish; girls at a ball nowadays can't expect
+to have a man apiece. [<span class="smcap">Johnstone</span> <i>lights a cigarette and
+smokes. A</i> <span class="smcap">Servant</span> <i>in ball-room is seen taking away the bouillon
+cups, while a second passes Bouches &agrave; la Reine there.</i> <span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span>
+<i>sits above</i> <span class="smcap">Ethel</span> <i>left of table, after taking lamb and crook from</i>
+<span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span> <i>and placing them down left corner</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> How is the party?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> Awfully lovely party!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> A tearing success!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> You ought to have seen the vaudeville!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_550" id="Page_550">[Pg 550]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> How did your stunt go, Ethel?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> Great.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Oh, my dear, a brute of a flute player ruined it. I
+felt like thirty cents.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> No one could spend much more money on a
+party than old Wolton is doing to-night.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Does Marion show her age in a child's dress?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> She looks charmingly, but then Marion isn't so old.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Perhaps not so old as she usually looks.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> Aren't you a Kitty cat?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Why doesn't she paint a little?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> What!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> <i>Marion?</i> Paint! Her <i>face</i>!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> My dear, she'd die first! [<i>All laugh, saying</i> "Marion".</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Grandiloquently.</i>] Not that I approve of
+painting! [<i>Music stops.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">All.</span> [<i>Laughing.</i>] Oh, no!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Nor I!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">All.</span> [<i>Laughing.</i>] Oh, no!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Who's here?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> Everybody.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Anyone I can marry?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> Oh, Mrs. Lorrimer, do be decent. You haven't been
+divorced a year yet.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> My dear, divorce isn't like death&mdash;you don't
+have to go into mourning! Besides, that's what I want to get
+married for! I find I've a perfect passion for divorce! Just
+like men have it for drink. The more I get the more I want!
+[<i>Laugh.</i>] I've only had two divorces, and I want another!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> You must be damned careful&mdash;I beg your
+pardon&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Oh, don't apologize, I say it myself!&mdash;careful
+about what?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> What sort of <i>husband you choose</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Exactly! None of your <i>ideal</i> men for me! I
+want a man with a bad record! [<i>Laugh.</i>] Plenty of proof concealed
+about his person, or not buried too deep in his past for
+me and my lawyer to ferret out. I've a perfect duck of a lawyer!
+He made up every bit of evidence about my last husband; that
+won me my case, and, my dears, it just <i>happened</i> to turn out to
+be true! [<i>Laugh.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_551" id="Page_551">[Pg 551]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Speaking of records, who do you think is here to-night?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> <i>Ned</i> Fletcher&mdash;!!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> Yes.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Girls&mdash;I'll tell you a secret&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> I don't want to hear it. [<i>Takes a chair left centre,
+sits and lights cigarette.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> I'm crazy about him! Where is he? [<i>Glancing
+over her shoulder.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> You've no chance; he's going to marry Marion, if
+she'll have him.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> What a shame! And will she?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> She's mad about him!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> The moth and the flame! What a pity! because
+he'd be simply ideal for me! Why, do you know I hear
+that he&mdash; [<i>Stops suddenly, looking at</i> <span class="smcap">Johnstone</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> What do you hear? I'm in this.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> I forgot Johnny and Mr. Fanshaw&mdash;there
+are certain things you mustn't talk about before innocent little
+boys!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> You couldn't tell <i>us anything about Ned Fletcher</i>!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Laughing.</i>] I don't want to! But I thought
+Marion was always going to marry Douglas Rhodes.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> Oh, that's all off now. It's Ned Fletcher or nothing
+with Marion.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> [<i>Laughing</i>.] I believe she thinks she's going to reform
+him! [<i>All laugh.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> There's one thing, he isn't after Marion's money.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Is he so rich?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> Oh, rotten! [<span class="smcap">Kitty</span> <i>slaps</i> <span class="smcap">Johnstone</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Very well, do you know what I shall do? I
+shall take Douglas.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> [<i>Hastily.</i>] Yes, catch his heart on the rebound;
+they say it's easier that way!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> That's one on you, Mrs. Lorrimer. [<i>Party gag.</i>]</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Oh, I'm not so very old, and have had two
+splendid husbands already. I don't think I have to bother about
+the easiest way.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> Philopene, Ethel? That's one on <i>you</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Has it been your method, my dear, because
+if so I can't congratulate you on the result. You must look out
+for a stronger rebound next time! Try a divorced man; I hear<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_552" id="Page_552">[Pg 552]</a></span>
+they come back with a terrific force! I'll be generous; try
+one of mine. [<i>All laugh. As they stop laughing there is the sound
+of something heavy falling in the room above. The chandelier trembles
+slightly, the lustres sound. All four lift their heads and listen a
+moment. A short pause.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> What was that!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> The servants probably, upstairs! [<i>Enter</i>
+<span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>from ball-room, smiling at the table of people as she passes</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> [<i>As she comes.</i>] Here's Miss Wolton.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> My dear Marion, pardon me for not rising,
+but I assure you I look much better sitting down! [<span class="smcap">Marion</span>
+<i>stops by</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> Not at all, Mrs. Lorrimer, they're awfully lovely!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Well, I'm sure they don't compare with yours.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> Oh, I don't know, there are others. [<span class="smcap">Marion</span>
+<i>goes down centre</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Marion, is Mr. Dawson here?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> No, he's in Boston.&mdash;Why?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Oh, nothing, only he's an unmarried man, so I
+thought I'd ask. [<span class="smcap">Servant</span> <i>in ball-room takes away plates, and
+second</i> <span class="smcap">Servant</span> <i>passes ices</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span>.] Why are you so late, Emily?
+[<i>Back to</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> My little girl was seedy, and I couldn't get
+away until I saw her asleep comfortably. It's an awful care for a
+young woman, my dear, having a <i>posthumous</i> child!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> A what?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> A <i>posthumous</i> child!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Laughing.</i>] <i>How do you mean, Emily?</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Why, born after it's father's divorce!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Are you girls going to have coffee?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> No.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Nor I.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Very well, then; join us for another game&mdash; [<i>She
+makes a movement of starting.</i>] Unless you men want to
+smoke. In that case, take your coffee in the library, where you'll
+find cigarettes and other smoking materials.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> [<i>Who has a cigarette in his mouth, and has been
+smoking all through the supper.</i>] I say! Oughtn't I to have
+smoked here?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_553" id="Page_553">[Pg 553]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Smiling.</i>] No! [<i>She starts to go out through ball-room.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> I beg your pardon. Well, any way it's an awfully
+lovely party.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Marion, is it true you're going to be divorced&mdash;I
+mean married?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>By doorway.</i>] Married? I hope so, some day.
+[<i>Smiling, exits into ball-room.</i> <span class="smcap">Johnstone</span> <i>is eating ice</i>. <span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span> <i>crosses to him</i>. <span class="smcap">Kitty</span> <i>in front of table</i>. <span class="smcap">Ethel</span> <i>takes
+up lamb</i>. <span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span> <i>exits.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Haven't you finished your ice, Johnny?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> No. I like to squash mine all up, and eat it soft.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Johnny, who made your bow?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> Mother. [<span class="smcap">Kitty</span> <i>drives</i> <span class="smcap">Johnny</span> <i>out of room by
+hitting him with her ball</i>. <span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span> <i>crosses to</i> <span class="smcap">Ethel</span> <i>and takes lamb</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> [<i>Who has looked back over her shoulder into the ball-room,
+goes up to arch</i>.] Mr. Fletcher has joined Marion.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Oh, that's why Marion wished us to hurry!
+She wanted this room for herself and Fletcher!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> <i>Probably.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Let's go&mdash;as if we were gone for good, and
+then stroll back <i>casually</i> in a few minutes, and see how we find
+them!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> Isn't that eavesdropping?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Don't be absurd! There isn't any such thing
+as eavesdropping nowadays. Everybody listens to everything they
+can, and everyone more or less knows they're being listened to.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> But what good will it do?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Why, if we&mdash;come back and catch them with
+his arm around her, we can take it for granted they are engaged.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> I don't think that follows. I'm sure if I were engaged
+to every man I let&mdash; [<i>She stops quickly. All laugh.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> [<i>Laughing.</i>] You gave yourself away that time,
+Ethel! [<i>They move out by door into ball-room. As they do so,</i>
+<span class="smcap">Servant</span> <i>enters from right, and</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>enters, meeting girls and</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Going to dance?&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Girls.</span> Yes.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> No, play games. Kissing games. [<i>All laugh
+and exeunt.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_554" id="Page_554">[Pg 554]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Oh, Mrs. Lorrimer! [<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> Why did you run away?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> I was afraid if I didn't the servants would never
+get this room ready.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> Have you a partner?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> No.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Pleased to be with her and yet embarrassed.</i>] May I&mdash;will
+you&mdash;that is&mdash;won't you dance with me?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Yes.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Near her.</i>] I wonder why I feel so diffident with
+you. I think I never was diffident before! [<i>Smiling.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Smiling.</i>] No, you haven't that reputation.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Smiling apologetically, but humourously.</i>] Dear
+me, I hope you don't know what my reputation isn't&mdash;or <i>is</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Seriously.</i>] I don't judge a man by his reputation.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Involuntarily half under his breath, humourously.</i>]
+Thank heaven! [<span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>looks at him, hearing him. There is
+a pause. She waits willingly for him to speak, hoping he will.</i>]
+I've been a very bad fellow.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Some of the best men in the world have begun that way.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> They probably had some one to help&mdash;to believe
+in them.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> And haven't you?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> Will you believe in me enough to&mdash; [<i>Looks off in
+ball-room up a little</i>; <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>follows. He loses his control and
+speaks passionately.</i>] Don't you understand,&mdash;I love you&mdash; [<i>He
+embraces her; she allows him. The embrace lasts a moment.</i>]
+You can be my salvation! Will you be?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>In his arms, looking up at him.</i>] I will&mdash;if I can&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Whose eyes never quite look into</i> <span class="smcap">Marion's</span>, <i>loosening
+the embrace.</i>] You will marry me?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Yes. [<i>Kisses him, then quickly moves down right.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Following her. Not looking at her.</i>] People say I'm a blackguard!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> People say a great many things that aren't true.
+What can a man do with all the world against him! "People"
+can force him into being as bad as they say he is.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> Then you won't believe them.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> No, not if you deny what they say. [<i>He holds out
+his hand; she takes it. At this moment</i>, <span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span> <i>and</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_555" id="Page_555">[Pg 555]</a></span>
+<span class="smcap">Ethel</span> <i>appear in ball-room, ostentatiously counting the chairs and making small calculation about the cotillion, but really watching slyly</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>. <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>sees it and speaks to</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>
+<i>quickly under her breath.</i>] Don't move! Don't drop my hand,
+but shake it as if we'd been making a bet, and follow my lead!
+[<i>Aloud.</i>] It's settled then! You take my bet?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Shaking her hand and then dropping it casually.</i> A box of cigars, against a box of gloves! [<i>Sotto voce.</i>] What is it?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion</span> [<i>Sotto voce.</i>] Mrs. Lorrimer in the next room watching us. [<i>Speaks in low voce satirically to</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span> <i>as if she were
+speaking to</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span>.] Oh, no, Emily! I am going to
+marry Mr. Fletcher, but <i>I</i> intend to be the one to announce that
+fact, and not you. [<span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Ethel</span> <i>turn. They see</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span> <i>and pretend surprise; they remain in the ball-room.</i>]</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>With trumpet.</i>] Oh! Marion! are <i>you</i> here?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Ahem! [<i>With a quick, amused side glance to</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>.]
+We've been watching you for some time; what was the matter
+with the chairs?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span> [<i>Embarrassed.</i>] Nothing&mdash;we were merely
+choosing places!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> They lead from the other end, don't they? [<i>Joining</i>
+<span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Yes, you know Kitty is leading for me. [<i>Enter</i>
+<span class="smcap">Douglas</span>. <i>He joins them.</i>] Who are you dancing with, Douglas?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> No one; I'm stagging it.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span> You don't mean to say, Marion, you have
+more men than women to-night!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>With mock pride.</i>] Who says I don't know how to give a party?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span>.] Damn it! I wish I hadn't
+said I'd dance with little Johnny, or I'd come to your rescue.
+[<span class="smcap">Douglas</span>, <i>secretly amused, bows his thanks.</i> <span class="smcap">Ethel</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>exchange an amused glance.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>.] Douglas ought to give Johnny a vote
+of thanks.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Come, they are taking their places. [<i>A movement
+of all to go off.</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span> <i>touches</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span> <i>on the arm.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>.] May I speak to you just a moment?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_556" id="Page_556">[Pg 556]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> Certainly&mdash; [<i>All go but</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>.] Excuse me
+one moment, Miss Wolton,&mdash;Rhodes wants a word with me.
+[<span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>starts slightly, and, turning quickly, looks questioningly
+at</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span>. <i>He answers her gaze seriously and unflinchingly.
+She turns to</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>.] No&mdash;I won't excuse you. [<i>Assuming
+a more or less coquettish air.</i>] You must come with me at once.
+[<span class="smcap">Fletcher</span> <i>looks surprised, but moves as if to obey her</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> But why won't you trust Mr. Fletcher with me?
+[<span class="smcap">Fletcher</span> <i>laughs amused</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Nonplussed for a moment; then she changes her
+mind.</i>] I was only jesting. [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>.] But you won't&mdash; [<i>To</i>
+<span class="smcap">Douglas</span>, <i>looking at him meaningly and seriously.</i>] &mdash;keep us
+waiting long, will you? I warn you, Mr. Fletcher, I shall let them
+begin without us. [<i>Exits through ball-room as</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span> <i>quickly
+kisses her hand.</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span> <i>waits till they are quite alone.</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span> <i>moves down right</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> [<i>Following. Quietly.</i>] Are you going to ask Miss
+Wolton to marry you?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> I am not.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> [<i>Momentary surprise&mdash;doubt, then relief&mdash;a sigh.</i>]
+In that case I've nothing more to say; let's join the others.
+[<i>Both make a move to go.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Who cannot resist saying it.</i>] You see, Rhodes,
+I <i>have</i> asked her already.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> [<i>Stops and, turning, faces</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>, <i>whose back is
+toward audience.</i>]</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Turning leisurely.</i>] About fifteen minutes ago&mdash;but
+I can't see what business it is of yours.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> I love her.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> That's no news to anybody!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> And I don't intend she shall marry a&mdash; [<i>He stops.
+Short pause.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> What? Why don't you finish?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> [<i>More quietly.</i>] A man like you.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> Oh, I'm not so very unique; lots of girls run
+the risk of marrying a man like me!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> I suppose you told her she is more to you than any
+one in the world.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> No. "Men like me" don't talk that rot. I put
+my arms around her&mdash; [<i>Stops, interrupted by the movement<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_557" id="Page_557">[Pg 557]</a></span>
+of</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span>, <i>expressive of rage, controlled instantaneously; he
+clenches his fists. Finishes with a half-smile at</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span>.] And
+told her I loved her.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> [<i>Suppressed anger.</i>] You <i>couldn't</i> say she was more
+than any one else to you, because it would have been a lie!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Smiling.</i>] You flatter me. [<i>Crosses to left.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> The one that is <i>most</i> to <i>you</i> is <span class="smcap">your child</span>. [<span class="smcap">Fletcher</span> <i>starts; is surprised</i>.] You can't deny the child&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> I "can!" I can deny anything.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> The lie could be proved to your face. In May,
+1893, at Lenox, a young kindergarten teacher,&mdash;you blackguard,
+you!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>A little angry.</i>] Who told you that story?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> [<i>Sneers.</i>] I'm not the only man who knows it!
+That sort of thing never lies buried!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> The girl's all right now!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Oh, I know, you sent her abroad, and pay for
+the child. Well, that's the mother's lookout, and not mine.
+But I don't believe she's the only case. One has only to look
+at your life now.&mdash;It was fortunate for you this winter that
+Mrs. Clipton's divorce trial didn't come off.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>A little more angry. Back to</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span>.] Still,
+what has all this to do with you, and I'll deny it all besides,
+if I feel like it, or need to.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> You know you're not fit to marry Marion Wolton!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> I know I love her.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> For how long?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> I can't say, but neither can you.&mdash;And besides,
+<i>she loves me</i>!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Would she if she knew you?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Smilingly.</i>] Oh, come, Rhodes, drop it! I
+don't care a damn what I have done. I'm going to marry her!
+I haven't made any bones about myself. I've told her I've
+been a bad lot!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Oh, yes, I know, you've confessed probably to
+having been "fast;" that nearly always appeals to a woman,
+heaven knows why; I suppose it's the instinct for reformation
+in them. But how much of your life does that word "fast"
+convey to a pure girl like Marion?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Smiling.</i>] Quite enough! [<i>Serious.</i>] But if she
+did know all there was to be known, Love forgives a great deal.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_558" id="Page_558">[Pg 558]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> But not <i>everything</i>. There are certain things
+Marion would never accept. She would refuse to take the
+place that was the right of another.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Down to him.</i>] Oh, that's your point, is it!
+Well, hunt out Jeannette Gros if you can; it'll do you no good!
+[<i>Crosses.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> [<i>Follows quickly. Angry.</i>] You can't prove that,
+because it's <i>not true</i>!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Facing</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span>. <i>Angry too.</i>] I'll prove she
+had other lovers before me. Good God, man, you don't know
+what Marion Wolton's love means to me! I've never loved
+like this before! Why, if it were possible for me to treat her
+as I have&mdash;the other, I <i>couldn't</i>. I want to marry Marion
+Wolton&mdash;I <i>want</i> to make <i>her my wife!</i> and I <i>will!</i> I've had
+all there can be got out of my old life, and I'm sick of it. Here's
+my chance at a new life, and do you think I'm going to give it
+up? No! [<i>Forgetting and raising his voice.</i>] Do you hear me,
+No!!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> [<i>Softly.</i>] Not so loud!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Lowered voice.</i>] No! I'll fight for it with my last
+breath.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Then I say again, you're a blackguard!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Laughs, turns back to audience.</i>] What do you
+want to do, fight? You know we can't here. I give you liberty
+to say to her all you can against me.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> She won't believe me.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> Exactly&mdash;she loves me&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> But there is one other I can tell the truth to, who
+may believe me.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> Look out you don't make yourself ridiculous,
+going about&mdash;the jilted lover, trying to take away the character
+of the accepted man! [<i>Leisurely following him a little.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> I don't have to do any "going about!" You are
+well enough known in our world to keep most of our doors
+closed against you. Few people are as blind as the Woltons,
+and I will open <i>his</i> eyes!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> You'll tell her father?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> He is the one person she would listen to, and he
+can verify what I say.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Change of tone, showing he fears this.</i>] Damn it! I mean to be a decent man.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_559" id="Page_559">[Pg 559]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> [<i>Goes close to him and looks straight in his face.</i>] Then go to Jeannette Gros and marry her!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Angry again.</i>] Go to H&mdash;. [<i>Change of tone.</i>]
+You think if I'm out of the way you'll get her?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> She's told me she doesn't love me, and she proved
+to me that she won't believe the truth of you without extraordinary
+proof. There is only one person in the world who could
+naturally interfere and give her anything like that proof, and
+that's her father; and I shall tell him to-night, before I leave
+this house, before you can announce your engagement!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> With Miss Wolton's permission, I will announce
+our engagement to-night, in spite of you, and her father. [<i>Music
+stops. Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span>, <i>with a favour, lamb and trumpet</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Oh, here you men are! If you think this is
+going to be allowed, you are very much mistaken! What do
+men think we ask them to parties for? Eh? Anyway, a cotillion
+is a leap-year dance; on such an occasion you are our natural
+prey! Come, sir! [<i>Pretending to blow trumpet.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> No. [<i>Smiling apologetically.</i>] Postpone my
+pleasure till a little later in the evening, will you? Don't be
+angry with me; I want to have a few words with Mr. Wolton,&mdash;then
+I'll come and give <i>all</i> my favours to you!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> That sounds attractive; I'll let you off.
+[<i>Makes lamby squeak. Smiling, turns to</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>.] But I won't
+let you off.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Smiling.</i>] <i>Don't</i>, please! I'm very happy to be
+your <i>consolation</i> prize. [<i>Takes lamb. Music.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> I'm a dangerous woman to make that remark
+to. You'd better be careful, or I might take you literally at your
+word.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> Oh, if you only would! [<i>Pulls lamb's head.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> What a charming speech. [<i>She and</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>
+<i>go into ball-room and off.</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span> <i>makes lamb squeak</i>.
+<span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span>, <i>her arms full of a set of gay favours, crosses the
+ball-room</i>; <span class="smcap">Douglas</span> <i>sees her and takes a step or two towards her,
+then waits till she has finished speaking to the girl</i>. <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span>
+<i>turns, and</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span> <i>addresses her</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Mrs. Wolton, is Mr. Wolton in the ball-room?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> No, I think he's in the smoking-room.&mdash;Aren't
+you going to dance? [<i>Coming into room.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_560" id="Page_560">[Pg 560]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Not just yet&mdash;later&mdash; [<i>Half bows apologetically.
+At the same moment, the music swells and the procession of dancers,
+in couples, dance in five or six couples into the front room, the line
+curving away to right to suggest that there are very many more couples
+in the ball-room out of sight. As they dance, they are laughing and
+talking&mdash;the first couple turns, the other couples making bridges
+under which the first couple goes, and passes into ball-room and off,
+followed by each couple the same. Music softens.</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span>
+<i>has drawn to one side, when the dancers came in. In this dance,
+scarfs are used by dancers.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Mr. Wolton there?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> [<i>Mildly surprised.</i>] He?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> I want to see Mr. Wolton very much to-night&mdash;<i>now</i>.
+It is a matter of the greatest importance. [<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Servant</span>
+<i>from ball-room.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> Where is Mr. Wolton, Howes?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> He has gone to his bedroom, m'm. [<i>Crosses behind</i>
+<span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> [<i>Surprised, but not too much so.</i>] What?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> He said he was on no account to be disturbed
+until the party was over.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> [<i>A little anxious.</i>] Was he ill?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> He didn't appear so, m'm.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span>.] Was he feeling ill to-night?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> [<i>With a relieved voice, showing no anxiety.</i>] No,
+not at all. He was in splendid spirits. Probably he was bored
+and thought he would be quieter upstairs.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> I don't want to be offensive, but I must, if possible,
+see him to-night.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> [<i>Speaking very casually.</i>] Howes, you might go
+and say to Mr. Wolton, Mr. Rhodes wants to speak to him
+about something very urgent. [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span>.] If he doesn't
+want to come down stairs again, he can send for you to come up.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> Beg pardon, m'm, but he was so very strong with
+me that I shouldn't under any circumstances go to him, I don't
+quite like to&mdash; [<i>He hesitates, embarrassed at having not to obey</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton's</span> <i>request at once.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> Really, he made such a point of it! Oh, very
+well then, you needn't go, Howes. [<i>With a nod of dismissal.</i>
+<span class="smcap">Servant</span> <i>exits into ball-room and off</i>.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_561" id="Page_561">[Pg 561]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> [<i>Lowers her voice so that</i> <span class="smcap">Howes</span> <i>sha'n't hear her,
+as he goes.</i>] Mr. Wolton is rather hard on the servants if they
+fail to obey his orders to the letter. I'll go myself and see if he
+won't see you. [<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>from ball-room, as her mother
+starts.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Mother, where are you going with the favours?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> To your father for a moment.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> But you can't; we need them. [<i>Crosses. Music stops.</i>]
+I'll go for you. [<span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span> <i>exits centre as</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>exits right</i>.
+<span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span> <i>appears from ball-room, enters</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> Come on, Rhodes, we need your help. [<i>Seizing</i>
+<span class="smcap">Douglas</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> How long will it take?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> Oh, only a couple of minutes. [<span class="smcap">Rhodes</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span> <i>exeunt, followed by</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Trimmins.</span> [<i>Off stage.</i>] Mrs. Lorrimer! Mrs. Lorrimer! [<i>Enters.</i>]
+Oh, Mrs. Lorrimer, won't you dance through with me?
+[<span class="smcap">Trimmins</span> <i>does this</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Do excuse me. [<i>Adds a little sotto voce and
+coaxingly.</i>] And as a favour to me, go and take out poor Susie
+Woodruff. You know it's only "snap the whip" figure, so
+it won't make much difference to you if she is a bit heavy.
+[<span class="smcap">Trimmins</span> <i>makes a bored grimace, and goes up stage</i>. <span class="smcap">Mrs.
+Lorrimer</span> <i>catches him</i>.] Yes, to please me! It isn't as if it were a
+waltz and you had to get her around all by yourself!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Trimmins.</span> [<i>Smiling.</i>] Very well, to please you! But Susan
+Woodruff, she's the limit. [<i>Doubles up his arm and feels his
+muscles meaningly, and exits.</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>enters tragically. White,
+frightened, she staggers quickly into the room and, stopping for a
+second, gasps in a horrified whisper.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Mother! [<i>Crosses to arch.</i>] Mother!! [<i>Music, "Won't
+You Come And Play With Me." Singing heard.</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>turns,
+frightened, goes down. Her mother comes to her. They meet.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> [<i>Frightened, puzzled.</i>] What is it? What's the matter?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>For a moment, can't speak. She opens her lips, but
+the words refuse to come. Then she manages to gasp out:</i>]
+Father!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> Your father&mdash;what? [<i>Starts and looks at her
+questioningly, frightened, as the music swells, and is joined in by
+the voices of the dancers.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_562" id="Page_562">[Pg 562]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> He is dead!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> Dead!! [<i>She makes a movement towards door.</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>stops her</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> It's too horrible!&mdash;he has killed himself&mdash; [<i>Adds
+the latter in lower tone, almost fainting. The dancers appear in the
+ball-room, hand in hand in single file, led by</i> <span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span>, <i>and dance
+wildly in&mdash;all singing "Won't You Come And Play With Me."
+They make a big circle about</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span>, <i>dancing out through the ball-room, the music and singing becoming fainter
+as they disappear. The two women are left alone. Re-enter</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span>
+<i>from ball-room.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> May I go up? [<i>He sees the condition of</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span> <i>and the expression of</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>.] Is your mother ill?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Help me take her to&mdash;my room&mdash;I will tell you.
+[<i>Dancers cross as they exit. Music changes to waltz. All go out.</i>
+<span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span>, <i>on end, drops their hands.</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>shudder as they go out</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Where is Mr. Rhodes?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> He was here a moment ago. [<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Servant</span>.
+<i>He has his overcoat on and carries his hat.</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span> <i>turns</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Have you seen Mr. Rhodes?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> He is just coming, m'm.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Looking at</i> <span class="smcap">Servant</span> <i>and seeing something in
+his face and manner.</i> <span class="smcap">Servant</span> <i>crosses hurriedly</i>.] Is there anything
+the matter? Where is Mrs. Wolton? [<span class="smcap">Douglas</span> <i>enters
+before</i> <span class="smcap">Servant</span> <i>can answer</i>. <span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span> <i>at once turns to him,
+ignoring</i> <span class="smcap">Servant</span>, <i>who, on a run, bows slightly and exits</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span>.] What's the matter?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> A most terrible thing has happened.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> What?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> You must help me to get rid of all the guests!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> To get rid&mdash; [<i>Interrupted.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> [<i>Interrupting.</i>] Mr. Wolton has committed suicide.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Starts and shudders; speaks very rapidly.</i>]
+Mr.&mdash;how awful! What are you going to do? You can't tell the
+people now. What in the world did the man mean by not waiting
+till the party was over! If it isn't like you men! Your own
+comfort before anybody else's.&mdash;Well&mdash;the only thing is to
+pretend it hasn't happened at all&mdash;make some excuse for Marion
+and her mother&mdash;the guests needn't know anything about it,&mdash;and
+finish the party!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_563" id="Page_563">[Pg 563]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Mrs. Lorrimer! Impossible!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> It would be sort of uncomfortable for us who
+know, [<i>She adds sincerely.</i>] &mdash;and the poor Woltons, of course,&mdash;it
+is awful for them.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> I thought if you spoke to Fanshaw and stopped
+the cotillion and told a few of the guests&mdash; [<i>Interrupted.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Aghast.</i>] What! The truth?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> No, say Mr. Wolton has been taken suddenly and
+most dangerously ill&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span>.] Very well, I'll do what I can.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Stop! [<i>Music stops.</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span> <i>goes to doorway into
+ball-room and draws the heavy porti&egrave;res, shutting out the ball-room.</i>
+<span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>enters</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span>, <i>who stays at curtains.</i>] They are going?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Yes.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> They know?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Not the truth!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Thank you.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Mrs. Lorrimer is arranging it. [<span class="smcap">Footman</span> <i>off stage
+calls</i> "43." <i>The numbers are repeated in another voice and farther
+away. A moment's pause.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> I wish I could comfort you.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Smiling strainedly at him.</i>] Thank you. [<span class="smcap">Footman</span>
+<i>calls</i> "56!&mdash;56!&mdash;89!" "32!&mdash;32!&mdash;61!" <span class="smcap">Douglas</span> <i>holds back the
+porti&egrave;re into ball-room</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> I'd better go back to mother. How good you are
+to us&mdash;believe me, I appreciate it all, Douglas, <i>all</i>. [<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span> <i>hurriedly. Shows excitement and emotion. At the same moment
+enter</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span> <i>from ball-room at back. The two men speak the
+word</i> "Marion" <i>at the same time, and turning, see each other.</i>
+<span class="smcap">Dawson</span> <i>also observes the presence of</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span>.] Uncle Fred!
+[<i>Crosses to him.</i> <span class="smcap">Footman</span> <i>calls</i> "115!"] [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span>.] You know!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Gently, persuasively joining her.</i>] Why didn't
+you send for me at once?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Gentlemen, you will forgive me if I thank you
+both and say the guests are leaving. The family would like
+to be alone.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> I understand, but if I can be of any use?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Thank you.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_564" id="Page_564">[Pg 564]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Shall we go, Fletcher?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> Good-night, Rhodes. [<i>Politely.</i>] My place is
+here; it is my privilege to stay by Miss Wolton. [<span class="smcap">Dawson</span> <i>looks
+up, surprised</i>. <span class="smcap">Rhodes</span> <i>looks angry</i>. <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span> <i>continues, to</i>
+<span class="smcap">Marion</span>.] May I speak? [<span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>bows her head in assent</i>.] Mr.
+Dawson, your niece has promised to-night to be my wife. At such
+a terrible moment as this, I claim the right of membership of the
+family, to be with you and help all I can. You will accept my
+offices? [<i>Holding out his hand.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> [<i>Shaking his hand.</i>] Certainly. You have won a
+wife in a thousand. But you may be called on to do more perhaps
+than you imagine.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> I am entirely at your service.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> [<i>Near doorway back, to all. At curtains, leaves curtains
+open.</i>] Good-night! [<i>All turn slightly.</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span> <i>bows and exits</i>.
+<span class="smcap">Fletcher</span> <i>going to</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> [<i>Watching them.</i>] Thank God! His money will
+save them! [<span class="smcap">Servant</span> <i>enters; speaks softly to</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> Mr. Dawson! [<span class="smcap">Dawson</span> <i>starts, nods to</i> <span class="smcap">Servant</span>,
+<i>who holds door open</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> I'm coming. [<i>Slowly, seriously, meaningly.</i>] Fletcher,
+I want a long talk with you to-night before you go.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> Very well, sir. [<span class="smcap">Dawson</span> <i>sighs heavily and exits</i>.
+<span class="smcap">Servant</span> <i>leaves door open. The two,</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>, <i>hear
+the door shut behind them, and make a movement; they realize they
+are alone. A heavy front door slams. Lights out. There is silence.
+Taking</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>in his arms.</i>] My poor little girl!&mdash;My poor little
+girl!&mdash;Cry, for God's sake, cry!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>With an outburst.</i>] Oh, it is so horrible! [<i>She
+sobs loud and hysterically in</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher's</span> <i>arms, her own arms about
+his neck.</i>] &mdash;so&mdash;horrible&mdash;</p>
+
+
+<p class="center">
+<span class="smcap">Curtain</span>.<br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="ACT_II" id="ACT_II"></a>ACT II.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Scene.</span> <i>A church. At left are the steps leading to the chancel and the
+chancel rails. Beyond the rails are palms, grouped, which
+conceal the altar. Past the chancel, up stage, is the exit into the
+choir. Down stage is the exit to the vestry and robing-room. To
+right of centre begin the pews of the church on each side of a broad
+centre aisle. The stage is set a little diagonally so that the aisle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_565" id="Page_565">[Pg 565]</a></span>
+runs from upper right toward centre stage. This will make a
+row or two more pews above the aisle than below it. White satin
+ribbons are stretched above the aisle on each side, across the entrances
+to the pews; this ribbon the ushers lift aside as they seat
+the guests. The exit right is made by the centre aisle.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Discovered.</span> <i>Three ushers,</i> <span class="smcap">Johnstone</span>, <span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Trimmins</span>.
+<span class="smcap">Johnstone</span> <i>is sitting in the first pew</i>, <span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span> <i>standing
+outside and leaning over its front, talking to</i> <span class="smcap">Johnstone</span>. <span class="smcap">Trimmins</span>
+<i>is leaning with his back against the side of the first pew across
+the aisle up stage. They are dressed in long frock coats, with
+buttonholes of white orchids. They are engaged in putting on
+white kid gloves.</i></p></div>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> Is Fletcher in the vestry yet?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> Heavens, no! How long do you want him to hang
+around? But he won't be late; he's serious this time.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Trimmins.</span> I'm glad to hear it, because he's going to marry a
+splendid girl. [<i>A short pause.</i>] I hope to goodness he really
+loves her.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> Oh, he does, I'm sure. I'll bet you, if you like;
+will you put up a silk hat on it? [<i>Rises.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> Yes, I'll take you!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> All right. [<i>Exit from pew. Holding out his hand
+which</i> <span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span> <i>takes, and they shake.</i>] Done!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> And I hope I'll lose. And if I were he, I'd tremble
+in my boots with a past like his, and the present getting so
+conspicuously favourable.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> Oh, I don't believe in your boomerang pasts!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> And I don't believe Fletcher can have one single
+memory of his own which he wouldn't rather forget since he
+has come to care for Marion Wolton. [<i>Crosses to pew.</i> <span class="smcap">Johnstone</span>
+<i>crosses</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Trimmins.</span> Yes, but don't you think a fellow can sow his
+wild oats and be done with them, and become a good man and
+an honest citizen.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> Of course I do, else, good Lord, where'd I be!
+We can't all be ideal chaps like Douglas Rhodes. But there
+are oats and <i>oats</i>, and Fletcher's are&mdash;oats!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> Well, he's sorry for them. [<i>Crosses to pew. As</i>
+<span class="smcap">Douglas Rhodes</span> <i>enters,</i> <span class="smcap">Trimmins</span> <i>exits.</i> <span class="smcap">Rhodes</span> <i>is also dressed
+as an usher and comes up the aisle in time to hear</i> <span class="smcap">Johnstone's</span>
+<i>speech, as he joins them.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_566" id="Page_566">[Pg 566]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Who's sorry for what?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> Fletcher for&mdash;for&mdash;for&mdash;everything!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Hum&mdash; [<i>He goes up left.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> If he's <i>honestly</i> sorry, he's no business marrying
+Marion Wolton.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> Why not?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> He has a debt to be paid. He can't wash his
+hands of the kind of things he's done; if he were in earnest in
+regretting his old life, he would do something to make up for it.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> Well, isn't he? He's going to marry a nice girl
+and settle down.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> If he were in earnest he'd marry, instead, one of at
+least two girls I know of&mdash;not this one.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> Oh, come, there's no reason why he should do
+a quixotic thing like that, he has a future before him.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> He has their futures before him.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> Don't preach. Why should he be dragged
+down&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> [<i>Interrupting.</i>] To where he dragged them?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> Exactly; Fletcher's no fool. And then there's
+Mr. Dawson. He swears by Fletcher now; they're regular
+pals.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> Ever since Mr. Wolton's death. I don't understand
+it.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> [<i>Coming down left.</i>] Yes, Dawson really believes
+in Fletcher&mdash;well, perhaps he's right. There must be some good
+in everybody, and perhaps Fletcher is just beginning to come
+to the top. Let's hope so.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> Hang it, fellows, brace up anyway. This isn't
+a funeral, you know. Hello, there's the organ. [<i>Organ music
+begins, and selections appropriate and usual on such occasions continue
+uninterruptedly.</i>] The people will be coming now. [<i>He exits.</i>]
+<i>Two other ushers make a movement, throwing off a certain lazy,
+nonchalant manner, and getting themselves into more dignified
+readiness for their duties.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> [<i>Rises, crosses to left.</i>] I tell you, Fanshaw, this is
+a hard day for me.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> But I'm glad you decided to come. It would
+have made all sorts of gossip if you hadn't.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> [<i>Sighs.</i>] Yes. Anyway, as it's got to be now, we
+must all make the best of it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_567" id="Page_567">[Pg 567]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> No one besides me dreams your life is still wrapped
+up in Marion Wolton.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> [<i>Embarrassed, but pleasantly. With a half laugh.</i>]
+And I suppose that ought to be some consolation, but I don't
+know as it is. However, I shall never be able to thank you
+enough for the comfort you've been. A man must have some one
+to talk to. And it isn't every fellow who can have a friend like
+you.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> [<i>Embarrassed, but pleased.</i>] Shut up! Here's Fletcher's
+mother; she came on from Richmond yesterday. [<i>He goes
+down aisle to meet her.</i>] And behind are those girls they want put
+into the front pews. [<span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span> <i>exeunt. At the
+same moment that the two disappear,</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fletcher</span> <i>appears on
+the arm of the third usher,</i> <span class="smcap">Trimmins</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fletcher.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Trimmins</span>, <i>as he shows her into the first
+pew left.</i>] You know Mrs. Wolton, of course?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Trimmins.</span> The bride's mother? [<i>Bows in affirmative.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fletcher.</span> When she comes, won't you show her in
+here with me, please? [<span class="smcap">Trimmins</span> <i>bows and exits</i>. <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fletcher</span>
+<i>sits, then kneels a moment, and then reseats herself with a touch to
+the trimming of the waist of her gown somewhere. Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span>
+<i>with</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span>, <span class="smcap">Johnstone</span> <i>with</i> <span class="smcap">Kitty</span>, <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Trimmins</span> <i>with</i>
+<span class="smcap">Ethel</span>; <i>ladies outside. Ushers exeunt as soon as guests are seated.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>On being shown into the first pew down stage.</i>]
+Is this the farthest front you can seat us? [<i>In a dissatisfied tone.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> [<i>Goes off right.</i>] This is the <i>front</i> pew.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Laughing.</i>] Of course, so it is. How silly of
+me! [<i>She passes to the end of the pew nearest to the audience.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> [<i>As she follows into the pew, to</i> <span class="smcap">Johnstone</span>.] Are we
+late?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Johnstone.</span> [<i>Off left.</i>] No, you're awfully early. [<span class="smcap">Trimmins</span>
+<i>off right</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> [<i>Following into pew.</i>] Oh, I say, girls. Isn't that
+a shame, we're early. [<i>The three women are standing in the
+pew; they all turn around to glance back into the church, which
+is supposed to be filling with guests, every once in a while some
+one being seated by an usher in one of the pews visible to the audience.
+After a glance round, the three sit down.</i>] What do you think
+of Douglas Rhodes being an usher?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Oh, my dear, it doesn't take these men long
+to get over a hopeless passion!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_568" id="Page_568">[Pg 568]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> If he is over it.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Gertrude.</span> Of course he's over it, or he wouldn't be here,
+would he?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Every time I've tried to make love to him, he
+has seemed to me awfully in love with her still. [<i>Laugh. Enter guests.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> I was wondering this morning where in the world
+Marion met Mr. Fletcher?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Perhaps it was at that Christian thing-a-may-gig
+she's interested in.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> You mean the Young Men's Christian Association?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Yes, I'd bet on it's being the Young Men's. [<i>Laughs.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Oh, my dear, you know he isn't that sort of a
+man at all. He's much more my style!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> Well, you know none of us ever met him till he began
+to go to the Woltons. [<i>Enter ushers and guests. A new selection
+is started on the organ and all half rise and turn, but turn back
+again at once into their places complacently.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> I think Marion's been getting to be a perfect stick
+anyway, these last few years, with all the plain covered books
+she reads and all her "university settlement" stuff in the slums,
+and her working-girls' clubs and things. But that makes it all
+the funnier for her to marry a man she's really not known very
+long, don't you think so?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Gertrude.</span> Where did he come from anyway?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Everywhere&mdash;which you know is as good as nowhere.
+He's that sort of a man.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Oh, no, his family comes from Virginia. And
+he's a Harvard man. [<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Trimmins</span> <i>with guest to pew.</i>] Was
+in the fastest set there, so he must have some position! [<i>Laughs.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> And he's rich.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> But Marion wouldn't marry for money.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Then why is she marrying him?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> I don't know. I think she must be in love
+with him.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> [<i>With a laugh.</i>] Ha! And then everyone says she's
+so sensible! [<i>Door slams. Another different selection is started on
+the organ and a door is shut off stage. The three women all half
+rise and turn again.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> Here they come!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Gertrude.</span> No, not yet. [<i>The three sit again with a murmur of
+disappointment.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_569" id="Page_569">[Pg 569]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Gertrude.</span> Well. I only hope Marion will be happy,&mdash;she's
+taught so many others how to enjoy the best of life.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> I don't see how you can sympathize with her in her
+philanthropic fads! I believe in being charitable, but there's
+a right and a wrong way!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> [<i>Quietly.</i>] Yes, I don't suppose there's a fashionable
+subscription list in town that hasn't your name on it.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> <i>Not one!</i> And as near the top as I can get.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Leaning over to speak to</i> <span class="smcap">Ethel</span>.] I agree with
+you! I went down to one of Marion's working women's evening
+meetings&mdash;and, really, I was bored to death.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Isn't the church trimmed horribly; looks as if they
+did it themselves. It would be just like Marion to have some
+silly sentiment about it. [<i>Organ stops.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> [<i>Strongly.</i>] I like Marion for her sentiment. I only
+hope she isn't marrying Fletcher because of it, in the hope
+that she will make his life, and perhaps have to spoil her own.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Blanche.</span> [<i>Leaning over and speaking to the three women
+in front.</i>] Doesn't the church look lovely!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> [<i>Who said it looked horridly.</i>] Perfectly lovely!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Girls, who is that doddy looking creature?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">All.</span> [<i>Turning and looking back into the church.</i>] Where?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> On the left-hand side of the aisle with a last
+winter's coat, don't you see, with the huge sleeves!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Oh, yes, with the cheap fur trimming and the mangy
+muff&mdash;who is it?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Blanche.</span> Oh, that! It's one of the groom's country relatives.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> She looks it. The kind that gets cards <i>only</i>
+to the church. [<i>All laugh. They rise again, excitedly, showing an
+increase of excitement over the first time they rose, and looking back.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Are they coming?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Blanche.</span> No&mdash; [<i>General murmur of disappointment.</i>] It's
+the bride's mother. [<i>All sit again.</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span> <i>enters on the
+arm of</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span>. <i>She is very handsomely dressed in black velvet
+and white lace. She is shown into the pew with</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fletcher</span>.
+<i>They exchange greetings.</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span> <i>exits, at the same time the</i>
+<span class="smcap">Clergyman</span> <i>enters behind the chancel rail and goes back behind the
+palms, &amp;c. Meanwhile the following dialogue is taking place.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Leaning over.</i>] You mean how it doesn't.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> [<i>Half turning to look back.</i>] Susie Printly's Baltimore
+cousin has just come in&mdash;do you think she's a beauty?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_570" id="Page_570">[Pg 570]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> You mean that <i>awfully</i> blonde girl.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Laughingly.</i>] Yes, that's she. Fifty cents the
+small bottle, seventy-five the larger size! [<i>All three laugh. Short
+pause.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> I suppose you've heard she's engaged?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> No, to whom?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Oh, only an American. [<i>Pause.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Weddings always give me a homesick feeling.
+I like them so.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> Well, you've had your share of them, you know.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Not at all. I've only been married <i>twice</i>.
+Do you know who I have my eyes on now?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> No, who is it?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> <i>Mr. Dawson!</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> What?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> You're serious ... to marry him.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Yes! Everyone will tell you he's one of the
+best men in the world.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> But my dear, that's a change for you! How'll you
+ever get him into the divorce court?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Nonsense! I don't want to. Haven't you
+heard ... my house in Dakota's for sale. I don't belong to
+the Divorce Club any more ... the membership is getting
+entirely too mixed! [<i>They look back into the church at the people.</i>
+<span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span> <i>leans over to</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fletcher</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> I am so nervous I could almost cry out! Oh, I
+shall be so relieved ... really, I can't tell you ... when
+the ceremony's over. [<i>Organ. Wedding march.</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span> <i>and
+his groomsman enter in front of the chancel rails. Guests all rise,
+showing excitement and turning half-way face off the stage, looking
+down the centre aisle.</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fletcher</span> <i>stand
+facing the altar.</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fletcher</span> <i>takes</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton's</span> <i>arm
+affectionately and holds it tight in friendly sympathy. The faint
+sound is heard of boys' and men's voices singing with the organ the
+wedding hymn. All watch off the stage, as if following the slow
+movement of a procession coming up the aisle. Meanwhile the following
+dialogue occurs.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> The Trimmins boys are the second ushers.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Which is the one you were engaged to?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> I forget, I've flirted with them both so long, but I
+think it's the right hand one! [<i>The head of the wedding procession<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_571" id="Page_571">[Pg 571]</a></span>
+appears. The choristers singing, followed by the six
+ushers,</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span> <i>leading, followed by four bridesmaids.
+The bride enters, leaning on the arm of</i> <span class="smcap">Mr. Dawson</span>; <i>the
+choristers exit, and continue singing off stage softly until time indicated
+for them to stop. The bridesmaids and ushers take their
+places, grouped properly about the chancel steps.</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>stands
+at the centre of chancel rail, where she is joined by</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>, <i>the
+groomsmen standing to one side of him.</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span> <i>stands on the
+opposite side of</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>. <i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Clergyman</span> <i>has come forward and
+stands facing them on the other side of the chancel railing. The
+guests open their prayer-books with a flutter of the leaves.</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>
+<i>gives bouquet to</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span>. <i>Music stops for a moment.</i>]</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Look! do you see how charming Mr.
+Dawson appears by the chancel rails. I never saw him in a more
+becoming place, and if it's a <i>possible</i> thing I shall make a rendezvous
+to <i>meet</i> him there one day! [<i>Music begins again softly, and
+accompanies the service. At first it is heard quite distinctly while the</i> <span class="smcap">Clergyman</span> <i>is going through, unheard, the first part of the marriage
+ceremony. A short pause in the dialogue.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> [<i>Whispers to</i> <span class="smcap">Kitty</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span>.] How composed she is.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Whispering back.</i>] One would think she was
+a widow! I couldn't do better myself! [<i>A short pause in the
+dialogue.</i> <span class="smcap">Clergyman</span> <i>looks up and raises his voice a little, addressing
+the congregation in the church ... but not too loud so as to be too evident.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Clergyman.</span> "If any man ... [<i>A door is shut heavily off
+stage. At sound of door slam,</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span> <i>exits and returns after</i>
+<span class="smcap">Jeannette's</span> <i>entrance, going directly to</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span>, <i>who seems
+overcome.</i>] can show just cause why these two persons should not
+lawfully be joined together ... [<i>A commotion among the
+guests, who turn away from the altar, to look back into the church.</i>] ... let
+him now speak. [<span class="smcap">Douglas</span> <i>goes top of aisle, to
+block the passage.</i>] or else hereafter forever hold his
+peace...."</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Jeannette</span> <i>enters, going to the foot of the chancel steps, cries</i>
+"Stop!" <i>She is a young and attractive looking woman, fashionably,
+but quietly dressed. All in the church are stunned. The groom,
+turning, sees her, and starts, but controls himself, glaring at</i> <span class="smcap">Jeannette</span>.
+<span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>gazes in terror and horror at her; her bouquet
+drops unnoticed by her</i>. <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span> <i>starts to leave her pew, but is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_572" id="Page_572">[Pg 572]</a></span>
+held back and persuaded by</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fletcher</span> <i>to remain quietly
+where she is.</i> <span class="smcap">Mr. Dawson</span> <i>steps down one step toward</i> <span class="smcap">Jeannette</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Jeannette</span>.] Who are you?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Jeannette.</span> [<i>With a gesture toward</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>.] <i>Ask him!</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> What right have you to interrupt this ceremony?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Jeannette.</span> [<i>With a gesture as before.</i>] <i>Ask him!</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> She has no right! [<span class="smcap">Jeannette</span> <i>makes an exclamation
+of denial aloud</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Swear that, Ned, swear it to me before this altar.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Hesitates a moment.</i>] I swear it.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Clergyman</span>.] Go on with the ceremony.
+[<span class="smcap">Dawson</span> <i>steps back to his place. The</i> <span class="smcap">Clergyman</span> <i>takes up his
+prayer-book.</i> <span class="smcap">Jeannette</span> <i>comes up one of the chancel steps</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Jeannette.</span> Stop!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> Is there no one here to put this woman out? [<i>He
+speaks to the groomsman.</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span> <i>speaks to</i> <span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span>, <i>who exits, and
+immediately after the music ceases. Meanwhile the following dialogue.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kitty.</span> Isn't this perfectly awful! I'm going! [<i>Going.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> I'm not. I'm going to stay.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> There may be something we can do. [<span class="smcap">Kitty</span>
+<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Gertrude</span> <i>exeunt with several of the other guests.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Clergyman.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Jeannette</span>.] Can you show any reason why
+this marriage should not ... [<i>Interrupted.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Jeannette.</span> [<i>Interrupting.</i>] I can.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Clergyman.</span> Then do so.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Jeannette.</span> I will. [<i>She exits quickly.</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span> <i>goes
+to the two bridesmaids up stage, who at the same time are joined by
+the two bridesmaids down stage. Guests go out.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> [<i>As she goes.</i>] Henry! [<span class="smcap">Dawson</span> <i>joins them.</i>]
+Take them into the choir-rooms, please. [<i>She motions off stage.</i>
+<span class="smcap">Dawson</span> <i>with bouquet exits. Maids exeunt. As they go,</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs.
+Wolton</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span> <i>meet and speak. The</i> <span class="smcap">Clergyman</span> <i>has
+been speaking to</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>. <i>Ushers urge guests to leave and exeunt
+with guests after</i> <span class="smcap">Jeannette</span> <i>returns.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Clergyman</span>.] I say that woman <i>cannot stop</i>
+this ceremony. Go on!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Clergyman</span>.] You heard him give me his word ... go on.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Clergyman.</span> I am very sorry, but the church does not allow
+me to. I must give her the chance to prove herself. [<span class="smcap">Fletcher</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_573" id="Page_573">[Pg 573]</a></span>
+<i>speaks to his groomsman,</i> <span class="smcap">Johnstone</span>, <i>who exits into vestry. At the
+same time</i> <span class="smcap">Jeannette</span> <i>re-enters, bringing by the hand a small
+child,</i> <span class="smcap">Edward</span>, <i>with her. She leads him straight to the foot of the
+chancel steps, and, pointing to</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>, <i>speaks. All through the
+rest of this scene, the child keeps hold of the skirts of the mother ... standing
+close to her side.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Jeannette.</span> This is that man's child ... and mine. [<span class="smcap">Mrs.
+Lorrimer</span> <i>exits; also</i> <span class="smcap">Ethel</span>. <i>Re-enter</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span> <i>without bouquet.</i>
+<span class="smcap">Fletcher</span> <i>speaks to the</i> <span class="smcap">Clergyman</span>. <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fletcher</span> <i>leaves the
+pew and joins</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span>. <span class="smcap">Douglas</span> <i>joins</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span>,
+<i>and all the guests and ushers leave the church quietly.</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>
+<i>starts to go to</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Mother!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Jeannette.</span> [<i>Turning and facing</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>.] Ah!... you
+go to <i>her</i>, in what must be the greatest sorrow of your life ... well,
+so will he ... [<i>With her arms around the child.</i>] come to
+me when he begins to understand, and <i>that's</i> why I am here.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Clergyman</span>.] Ask her for proofs! She won't
+have them! It is a question of her word or mine, and surely
+there can be no such question, when the woman is that sort of
+thing! [<i>Turns to</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>.] Marion! [<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Clergyman</span> <i>goes to</i>
+<span class="smcap">Jeannette</span>, <i>up stage, with whom he talks.</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>joins</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>,
+<i>and they come down the steps, but she does not look at him.</i>
+<span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span> <i>starts to go to</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>. <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span> <i>stops her.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span>.] No. I wish to speak to
+Marion alone. [<span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fletcher</span> <i>speak together
+up stage.</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span>, <i>turning back, faints.</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fletcher</span> <i>take her out.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>.] Do you despise me?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> I can't ... I love you.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> I didn't deceive you, did I? You will remember
+I confessed that before we met my life had not been fit to be
+lived in the same world with you.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> I know, but I didn't imagine anything so bad as this.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> Yes, I realize that now, as it is only since I have
+known you that I have realized how low I was. Yet, Marion,
+this sort of thing exists all around us; I am not the only one ... [<i>Interrupted.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Interrupting.</i>] <i>Don't</i>&mdash;don't try to excuse it.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> At any rate ... it was before I knew you.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_574" id="Page_574">[Pg 574]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Looking up in his face for the first time, slowly.</i>]
+Since you've known me have you been good and honest?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Without any hesitation, looks back at her, honestly.</i>]
+Yes. [<i>They hold this position for a moment.</i> <span class="smcap">Clergyman</span> <i>leaves</i> <span class="smcap">Jeannette</span>. <i>She speaks after him, following.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Jeannette.</span> This is not <i>legal</i> proof, you say?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Clergyman.</span> It is not sufficient.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Jeannette.</span> But it's moral proof. [<span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>turns and goes
+back to her place ... motions</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span> <i>to follow. He does so
+but almost timidly.</i> <span class="smcap">Clergyman</span> <i>turns from</i> <span class="smcap">Jeannette</span>.] Listen!
+So long as he remains as he is, there's a chance that the world
+won't always be able to fling my boy's shame in his face. And
+I tell you, sir, the agony she would suffer now is nothing ... <i>nothing</i>
+to what her life with him would be. And think what
+it is to ... [<i>Her emotion racks her.</i>] watch your child, your
+own flesh and blood, day and night, all its life, terror-stricken ... [<i>She
+controls her emotions.</i>] lest you find some trace of
+his father in him!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Turns to</i> <span class="smcap">Clergyman</span>.] We are waiting.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Clergyman.</span> But ... [<i>Interrupted.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Interrupting.</i>] I love him; I am not willing to
+give him up for that woman!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Clergyman.</span> But she swears a compact of marriage was made.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Has she proofs? [<span class="smcap">Fletcher</span> <i>glares at</i> <span class="smcap">Jeannette</span>; <i>his muscles grow rigid</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Clergyman.</span> <i>No.</i> [<span class="smcap">Fletcher</span> <i>relaxes</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Very well,&mdash;I have his word against hers,&mdash;that is
+enough.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Clergyman.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>.] But I believe you do not deny
+the child?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Tentatively.</i>] Yes ... yes, I <i>do</i> deny it.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Quickly.</i>] This man's past, sir, is not yours, nor
+mine. But his present does belong to me, and his future shall
+be mine too, to <i>make</i>, not <i>hers to mar</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Impatient.</i>] Come! We've lost enough time,
+let's finish this. [<span class="smcap">Clergyman</span> <i>goes to his proper place behind the
+chancel rails</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Jeannette.</span> [<i>Coming up one of the chancel steps.</i>] You shall
+not go on with this marriage.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Half angry.</i>] She has shown what she is by the
+way she has chosen to stop it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_575" id="Page_575">[Pg 575]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Jeannette.</span> That's a cowardly lie! And it was only when I saw
+by the papers that my letters had been useless that I decided
+to humiliate myself in this way. Do you think I would so
+degrade my womanhood for the sake of anything on God's
+earth, but <i>one</i> ... my child? [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>.] Do you think I
+could do anything but loathe <i>him</i>!... [<i>With a gesture toward</i>
+<span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> But I love him.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Jeannette.</span> So did I <i>once</i>. And now I'd save you if I could
+from all I know you'll have to suffer. Once you're his, he'll tire
+of you....</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Interrupting.</i>] You forget one thing ... he is
+going to place a wedding-ring on my hand.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Jeannette.</span> Well, look at that! [<i>She rips her glove off violently,
+and shows a wedding-ring.</i>] He placed it there! and said
+he'd take me to a church and make our compact binding.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Who has started, frightened, at first, has controlled
+himself and speaks with intense quiet.</i>] This woman's from the
+streets. She's up to all the tricks.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Jeannette.</span> [<i>Outraged.</i>] How dare you! I am not what he
+calls me! I swear that here in this holy place. <i>He</i> dragged me
+through the streets, and any dirt upon my skirts <i>his</i> feet have
+left there.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> Be silent. [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Clergyman</span>.] If you will not finish
+the service, we will find some one who will.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Clergyman</span>.] No, I will not leave here till we
+are married. I will not insult the man I have chosen for my
+husband by doubting his word for hers. I won't believe he
+made her what she is.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> Marion!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Ned! [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Clergyman</span>.] Go on! Go on with the
+ceremony!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Jeannette.</span> You shall not go on! He's done his best to make
+me what he says I am ... and God knows he might have
+succeeded ... [<i>Emotion.</i>] but for my boy's sake I fought the
+fight for honour ... [<i>Completely controlling her emotion.</i>]
+The day he tricked me ... [<i>With a look of scorn at</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>.]
+I stood before him as pure a woman as you stand now, and
+since he left me, there has never been an hour when I couldn't
+look straight into my child's eyes, not one minute I couldn't
+feel his two arms about my neck without a shudder.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_576" id="Page_576">[Pg 576]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>More angry.</i>] I won't stand this!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Jeannette.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>, <i>continuing in the same key and tone
+as her former speech ... and pleadingly.</i>] <i>Don't</i> make vows
+that will take away this innocent boy's name.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> You must answer to your child for his name and
+honour.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Enraged, to</i> <span class="smcap">Jeannette</span>.] If you don't go now
+I'll ... [<i>Stops himself.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Jeannette.</span> Before God, yours, [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>.] mine, ...
+[<i>Clasping her hands on her breast.</i>] and <i>his</i> God [<i>With a look of
+scornful warning at</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>.], that man is <i>his</i> father, and <i>my</i>
+husband.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>In a fearful rage.</i>] You lie! [<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fletcher</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Surprised ... pained.</i>] Sh-h ... go on.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Jeannette.</span> [<i>Coming between</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>, <i>she
+cries out ... a wild, heart-broken, desperate cry.</i>] No! you shall
+not write Bastard on the forehead of <i>my child</i>!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Beside himself.</i>] By God! [<i>He strikes</i> <span class="smcap">Jeannette</span>
+<i>a blow ... which sounds....</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>cries out and
+recoils. The two mothers step forward with exclamations of fright
+and anger.</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span> <i>comes from the choir, brought by the sound of
+the cry, and goes to</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>. <span class="smcap">Jeannette</span> <i>falls when struck. The
+child clings with both arms about its mother's waist.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>After a moment, drawing in a long breath, to</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>.] Coward! [<i>Her uncle takes a step forward to her ... he
+carries her wedding bouquet. She seizes it from him and dashes it
+at the feet of</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>, <i>and then, throwing back her head with
+an expression of scorn, turns from him, takes the arm of her uncle
+with determination, and goes down the chancel steps out of the church.</i>
+<span class="smcap">Fletcher</span> <i>stands crestfallen.</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fletcher</span>
+<i>look at each other, horrified, speechless.</i></p>
+
+<p class="center">
+<span class="smcap">Curtain</span>.<br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="ACT_III" id="ACT_III"></a>ACT III.</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Scene.</span> <i>The library at the</i> <span class="smcap">Woltons</span>. <i>A handsomely and luxuriously
+furnished room, somewhat disarranged by the preparations
+for the wedding. It is here that the wedding presents are
+displayed; along the two sides and partly across the end are placed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_577" id="Page_577">[Pg 577]</a></span>
+long and narrow improvised tables, covered with all sorts of gifts&mdash;silver,
+glass, &amp;c. &amp;c. There are five piano lamps grouped together
+at the upper corner of table. There are faded flowers about.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Time.</span> <i>The following day.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Discovered. Mrs. Lorrimer</span> <i>at left of table, a maid and man
+servant are busy wrapping up and addressing some of the wedding
+presents.</i></p></div>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Who has just finished writing an address on a
+parcel.</i>] This is one to go by express, Howes.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> [<i>Taking it.</i>] Yes, m'm. [<i>Placing it to one side
+where are others tied up and addressed.</i>] Beg pardon, m'm,
+but it's a great pity Miss Marion should lose a husband and
+all the wedding presents as well.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Oh, it isn't always a pity, Howes, to lose a
+husband&mdash;it's very often a very good thing. [<span class="smcap">Maid</span> <i>gives</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span> <i>another parcel to address, which she does&mdash;copying from
+a card which the maid gives her with the parcel. Maid exits.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> [<i>Giving</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span> <i>a visiting card.</i>] This is
+the address, m'm&mdash;still, if you'll excuse me for saying so, Mrs.
+Lorrimer&mdash;if it was me, I'd keep the presents just by way of
+a kind of consolation. [<i>She and the</i> <span class="smcap">Servant</span> <i>tie up another box.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Addressing.</i>] Ah, but you see their associations
+would be painful. I have had two husbands and I have
+each time moved out of the house I occupied with each on the
+day after losing him.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> You know what trouble is, m'm, to have lost two
+husbands. Grippe, m'm? [<i>Giving her another parcel.</i> <span class="smcap">Howes</span>
+<i>to table up stage.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Not exactly. Another kind of epidemic.
+The law, Howes. [<span class="smcap">Howes</span> <i>gives parcel.</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span> <i>addresses
+it from a visiting card. Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Maid</span> <i>with</i> <span class="smcap">Ethel</span> <i>and</i>
+<span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Maid.</span> I will tell Miss Wolton. [<i>Exit.</i> <span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span>, <span class="smcap">Ethel</span> <i>and</i>
+<span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span> <i>greet each other.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> How do you do? [<i>Shakes hands.</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span> <i>motions with her head a dismissal to the</i> <span class="smcap">Servant</span>, <i>and he gets boxes and goes out.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> [<i>Goes to sofa and sits.</i>] Do you think Marion will see us?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_578" id="Page_578">[Pg 578]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> I don't know, I'm sure. She is with her
+mother.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> You don't mean&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Yes, but she isn't a bit like she was yesterday.
+She's crying like a child, poor thing,&mdash;what she's gone
+through!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> Have you seen the papers? [<i>Has large bundle of
+them.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> No.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> It's in all of them, and some have big
+pictures.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Yes, my dear, with all of us in. Marion in a low-necked
+dress. You're a sight, but my picture's rather good.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> [<i>Who has gotten papers from coat-tail pocket.</i>]
+Perhaps you'd like to see them.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> No, no; put them away quick. I'll see them
+home. I take every blessed paper. [<span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span> <i>up to table where
+he puts hat and papers</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> What are you doing&mdash;sending back wedding presents?
+[<i>Crosses.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> Oh, I say, is that necessary?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> I don't believe I would; there are lots of things she's
+been dying to have.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> My dear Ethel!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> Yes, why couldn't she&mdash;er&mdash;forget&mdash;er&mdash;overlook&mdash;er&mdash;any
+old thing with some of them&mdash;I mean those she
+wants? [<i>Turns up, looking at presents on table.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Well, there are some things I should think
+she'd be glad to send back. After all, twelve dozen oyster
+forks are too many for a small family like a newly married
+couple.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> How many sugar spoons did she get?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Thirteen, which to say the least, is an unlucky
+number ... [<i>Rises, puts arm about</i> <span class="smcap">Ethel</span> <i>and comes
+left.</i>] and there's that bankrupt stock of piano lamps. [<i>Crosses to
+sofa; sits on sofa with</i> <span class="smcap">Ethel</span>. <span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span> <i>comes down.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> [<i>Half laughing.</i>] That's true! By the way, have
+you sent back Mrs. Bayley's presents yet?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Yes, why?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Go on, tell her, Fanshaw. [<i>Rises and goes to centre.</i>
+<span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span> <i>sit on sofa.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_579" id="Page_579">[Pg 579]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> [<i>Laughing.</i>] Oh, it's nothing, only I sent it to
+Mrs. Bayley myself three Christmases ago as a philopene. I
+suppose she thought I wouldn't remember, but she forgot both
+our initials are marked on the bottom.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> [<i>At table, examining presents. Laughing.</i>] Yes, my
+dear, and Marion found them. People really ought to be more
+careful.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Think of a woman with all Mrs. Bayley's
+money&mdash; [<i>Interrupted.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> My dear, it is the rich who do these sort of things.
+Every year all my second-hand Christmas cards and calendars
+come from my wealthiest friends! And there's that thing&mdash; [<i>Lifting
+a vase.</i>] Isn't it hideous? I don't know who sent it
+but&mdash; [<i>Interrupted.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> <i>I</i> do.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> [<i>Innocently.</i>] Who?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> I did.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Good gracious. [<i>Laughs.</i>] I assure you I haven't
+any taste. [<span class="smcap">Ethel</span> <i>down centre.</i> <span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span> <i>rises</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> No, not a bit. [<i>Goes back of sofa and up to table.</i>
+<span class="smcap">Ethel</span> <i>up stage by table.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> How many presents did Marion get, anyway? [<i>Looking
+among the things on the table.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> I don't know. [<i>Satirically.</i>] I didn't count
+them.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> I don't believe she got very many&mdash;Marion has always
+taken up so many poor people. I'm sure I never can tell what
+she sees in them! [<span class="smcap">Ethel</span> <i>crosses right of table</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Oh, yes, Ethel, I know how you choose your
+friends. The other day I heard you were running after the
+Lloyds&mdash;that settles it, I said&mdash;they are either going to have a
+box at the Opera this year, or give a series of dinners, or a big ball.
+Ethel knows what she's about.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> Exactly&mdash;Ethel knows her business, but you left
+out one thing&mdash;they have the best cook in town, too.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> [<i>Taking up a box with a large silver fish knife in it.</i>]
+Who gave her this fish knife?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> The Conrads, didn't they.... [<span class="smcap">Ethel</span>
+<i>bursts out laughing</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Ha! ha! ha! If that isn't appropriate! You know
+the old man Conrad made all his money out of imitation sardines!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_580" id="Page_580">[Pg 580]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> And very bad imitations, too.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Well, if I could make as much as Conrad, I'd
+be willing to imitate codfish!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> [<i>Takes up a small box at which she has been looking.</i>]
+Here's my present. I might as well take it home with me and
+save you the trouble. [<i>Puts it in her pocket. She looks at silver
+hand-glass.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Dryly.</i>] Thank you! Was that your present
+in a Tiffany box&mdash;a small diamond pin?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Yes, wasn't it sweet?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Rather. I saw those pins marked down at
+Wanamaker's Christmas time.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> For heaven's sake, don't tell Marion. [<i>Re-enter</i>
+<span class="smcap">Maid</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Maid.</span> Mrs. Wolton will be down at once, madam&mdash; [<span class="smcap">Maid</span>
+<i>exits at back.</i> <span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span> <i>crosses to table</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> [<i>Who goes back to</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span>.] Wasn't it awful
+yesterday&mdash;in the church! [<i>Crosses.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>With a sigh.</i>] Awful. [<i>Rises and crosses to
+centre.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> [<i>Kneeling, with one knee on the sofa.</i>] Still, I will say
+one thing, I've always been dying to have it happen.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Ethel! What a little beast you are.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> Oh, she didn't mean to Marion particularly. Did
+you, Ethel?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> No; if I had my choice I'd rather see it happen to
+Kitty; she's always pretending she's so sincere and all that.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Marion is well rid of a man like Fletcher.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Oh, I don't know&mdash;I believe I'd take him to-morrow
+if he asked me.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Well, I wish he would&mdash;it would serve you
+just right.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> Oh, but you couldn't, to-morrow, even if he did
+ask you&mdash;you forget.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Oh, of course I did. My dear, I meant to tell you
+when I came in that I'm announcing my engagement to-day.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Good gracious, to whom?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> To Mr. Fanshaw.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Good heavens. Allow me to condole&mdash; [<i>Crosses
+to</i> <span class="smcap">Fanshaw</span>.] I mean congratulate you. And so you're
+going to be married! [<span class="smcap">Ethel</span> <i>crosses. They shake hands.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_581" id="Page_581">[Pg 581]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Oh, no, only engaged for a little while,&mdash;just for fun.
+[<span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span> <i>enters</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> Good morning, Ethel. I'm going to ask you
+to excuse Marion. She isn't seeing <i>any</i> one this morning.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> I understand&mdash;of course&mdash;give her my love and tell
+her not to mind&mdash;every one's on her side and,&mdash;she looked perfectly
+lovely. Tell her she had the prettiest wedding dress anyway
+of the season. [<i>She goes to kiss</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span>, <i>who draws back.
+Both</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span> <i>are aghast at the flippant
+manner of</i> <span class="smcap">Ethel</span>. <span class="smcap">Ethel</span> <i>raises her eyebrows, shrugs her
+shoulders.</i>] Good-bye, good-bye. Come along, Fanshaw.
+[<i>Exit.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> [<i>Crossing to</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span>.] Oh, Mrs. Wolton,
+don't mind Ethel. She doesn't mean what she sounds like. She
+never does mean what she sounds like. Besides, she's a little
+rattled this morning. You see she's engaged again.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> Engaged?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> Yes, not to Johnny. I'm it. [<span class="smcap">Ethel</span> <i>re-enters</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Ethel.</span> Come along, Fanshaw.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fanshaw.</span> All right, I'm coming. [<i>Takes up hat and papers.</i>
+<span class="smcap">Ethel</span> <i>motions for him to leave papers&mdash;he does so and exits
+with</i> <span class="smcap">Ethel</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> How is Marion?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> In the same extraordinary frame of mind&mdash;I'm
+afraid she'll be ill.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> You mean, so composed?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> Yes, so hard&mdash;she hasn't shed a tear&mdash;the only
+person she's at all human with is that poor creature upstairs.
+And you know she's sent for <i>him</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Surprised.</i>] She's going to see him?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> She insists upon doing so.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> I wonder why? I never want to see any of
+my husbands again&mdash; [<i>Crosses to</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span>.] after they've
+once disappointed me.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> I suspect&mdash;I don't know&mdash;Marion refuses to
+talk about it, but her sending for this Mrs.&mdash;er&mdash;Miss&mdash;er&mdash;dear
+me, I don't know what to call her&mdash;but you know who I mean&mdash;I
+think Marion has an idea she can help her to&mdash;er&mdash; [<i>She hesitates.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> You don't mean to marry Fletcher? [<span class="smcap">Mrs.
+Wolton</span> <i>nods her head. Incredulously.</i>] She still wants to?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_582" id="Page_582">[Pg 582]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> Anything for her child's future.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Very seriously reflecting.</i>] Well, I can understand
+that. [<i>She rouses herself and finishes in her old manner.</i>]
+But, my dear, I can sympathize with her, too, poor thing. I
+know what's before her&mdash;you see, both mine were brutes.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> [<i>Rises and crosses to</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span>.] Will
+you mind if I say something very frank to you?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Tentatively.</i>] Well&mdash;frank things are always
+disagreeable.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> Anyway, I am going to run the risk. You know
+you are considered&mdash;rather&mdash;er&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> I suppose you want to say heartless?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> Oh, no!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Well&mdash;then frivolous&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> Yes&mdash;perhaps&mdash;and&mdash;a few other things&mdash;but
+you aren't.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Yes, I am.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> No, you're not.&mdash;These qualities are all only
+on the surface. [<i>Both sit on sofa.</i>] They are the rouge and
+powder of your character&mdash;underneath, I believe you are plain
+and sincere.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Laughing.</i>] I'm not so mad about being
+plain, but sincere I would like to be.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> It's your wretched luck in your married life
+that has made you what you are!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Sincerely, with much feeling, and almost
+breaking down.</i>] You're right. It was a case of hardening my
+heart and laughing in the world's face, or&mdash;or having it laugh in
+mine perhaps.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> What you need now as you did in the beginning
+is a good husband&mdash;like mine was.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Good men don't grow on bushes, and besides,
+good men don't seem to care about me.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> I know just the man, and I believe he's been in
+love with you for years, though he may not know it himself!
+[<span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span> <i>looks at her questioningly.</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span> <i>goes
+to her and, putting her arm around her neck, whispers in her ear.</i>]
+I want you for a <i>sister</i>-in-law.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Embarrassed, pleased.</i>] Mrs. Wolton!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> Call me "Laura," and I shall feel as if matters
+had progressed a little. [<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span>&mdash;<i>suddenly and unceremoniously.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_583" id="Page_583">[Pg 583]</a></span>
+Both women start slightly and exchange a quick,
+covert, meaning glance. Rise.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Ah, Laura&mdash;I attended to that for you at once.
+Has she come?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> Yes, she's upstairs.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Good. [<span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span> <i>coughs</i>.] Mrs. Lorrimer&mdash; [<i>Shaking
+her hand.</i>] I have followed you here&mdash;they told me
+at your house.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> [<i>Rather hopefully.</i>] You want to see Mrs.
+Lorrimer?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Very quickly, aside to</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span> <i>with humour.</i>] Say "Emily"&mdash;that may help a little, too!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> You want to see Emily?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> [<i>A momentary surprise at the name.</i>] Emily, sweet
+name&mdash;er&mdash;yes, if you will allow me, alone. [<i>Goes right, takes
+out handkerchief, and mops brow.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> Alone!&mdash;very well! [<i>Aside to</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span>.]
+I'd no idea it would come so soon. It must be <i>that</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Blushing.</i>] No, no, it's something else&mdash; [<i>Believing though that it is.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> [<i>Still aside.</i>] One thing delights me, you're as
+much in love as he is&mdash; [<i>Aloud.</i>] Good-bye, <i>Emily</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Aloud, with emphasis.</i>] Good-by, <i>Laura</i>!
+[<span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span> <i>exits</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Mrs. Lorrimer&mdash; [<i>Crosses centre.</i>] I want to
+speak to you on a matter of the greatest privacy.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Yes. [<i>Very quietly.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> You are the only woman in the world who can
+help me.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Seriously.</i>] I consider that a true compliment,
+Mr. Dawson.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> I hesitate because I do not know if I have the
+right to ask you to share my secret with me.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> As far as I am concerned, I <i>give</i> you that right.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> You will help me at no matter what inconvenience
+to yourself?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Yes&mdash;but I may not&mdash;er&mdash;consider it an
+"inconvenience" to myself. [<i>Smiling.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Very well then&mdash;the terrible trouble of yesterday
+is not the only calamity that may happen to my sister and
+her daughter.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_584" id="Page_584">[Pg 584]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Rising&mdash;surprised, disappointed, but still
+affected seriously by his serious manner.</i>] It is of them you wish
+to speak to me?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Yes.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> It is for them you wish my help?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Yes.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>With one sigh, dismisses her disappointment
+and holds out her hand&mdash;crosses to right of table.</i>] It is yours for
+the asking.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Thank you! [<i>Presses her hand.</i>] Mr. Wolton
+killed himself to escape being convicted of a crime. [<i>Sits left
+of table.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Withdraws her hand slowly from his, and
+whispers in tremulous surprise and horror.</i>] What!!!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> He had misappropriated funds entrusted to his
+care,&mdash;exposure became inevitable&mdash;you know the rest.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> But Marion, Mrs. Wolton?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> They know nothing!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Nothing! [<i>Looks puzzled.</i>] But how&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> The night of the catastrophe, Fletcher announced
+his engagement to Marion, and claimed his right to bear a
+share of the family's trouble. I took him at his word by asking
+him to come to the rescue of his future wife's name and honour
+with&mdash;money!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> And he did!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Yes&mdash;willingly! He was splendid that night.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> That's why you suddenly became his champion!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Yes, I couldn't believe the tales against him, when
+he had proved his love for Marion by such a big act of
+generosity.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> He knows everything?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Everything, that same night.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> And he has never breathed a word?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> That was only natural up to yesterday, but now&mdash; [<i>Interrupted.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> He doesn't threaten to tell?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> He does, unless Marion marries him. He's mad
+about her. The good in him has loved her up to now; now
+it's the devil in him. He's not the same man!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> And what do you want me to do?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_585" id="Page_585">[Pg 585]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Advise me.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> <i>I.</i> Advise <i>you</i>?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Yes. Shall we tell Marion?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> About her father?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Yes.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> No, no! Not if we can help it!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> But&mdash; [<i>Interrupted.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> And Fletcher must be paid every cent he
+gave.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Not easily done. Of course you will understand
+I have nothing; what I had went at the first, and I shall need
+all my income now for Laura and Marion.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> You will borrow this money in your name.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> I have no security. [<i>A moment's pause; both think&mdash;rise.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Do you carry a life insurance? [<i>Crosses left.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Yes, quite a heavy one.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Why not borrow on your life insurance this
+sum?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> [<i>Pleased.</i>] Of course, of course! What a fool I've
+been not to think of that! How clever you are! But again,
+it must be borrowed privately for many reasons. [<i>Again a
+moment's pause, while both think.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Showing decision and determination.</i>] I
+think I know some one.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Who?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Don't ask me till I've seen him and found
+out&mdash;I will go now&mdash; [<i>Crossing up centre.</i>] &mdash;at once, and make a
+beginning, and you must go to Fletcher and keep him from coming
+here.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> That won't be necessary, for surely Marion wouldn't
+see him.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> On the contrary she has <i>sent</i> for him!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> [<i>Astonished.</i>] She isn't still in love with him! I'll
+go to him and say I've come to talk business; I think that's
+the best way to put it.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Yes, and now, go right away!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> [<i>With a world of appreciation and sentiment in his
+voice and manner.</i>] <i>Without thanking you?</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Yes, please, because I don't want you to
+thank me in a hurry&mdash;I want you to take a good long time over<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_586" id="Page_586">[Pg 586]</a></span>
+it. [<i>A moment's pause; they look at each other.</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span> <i>seizes
+her hand, half shamefacedly, and kisses it. He starts for hat, which
+he placed on table as he entered.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Drawing him back&mdash;half shyly.</i>] Oh&mdash;answer
+me just one question....</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> A dozen.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> What have you&mdash;a nice man&mdash;I mean&mdash;a
+man like you.... [<i>Interrupted.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> [<i>Interrupting.</i>] What kind of a man?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> A "nice" man&mdash;you <i>are</i> a nice man, aren't
+you? [<i>Smiling sweetly and rather archly at him.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> [<i>Embarrassed.</i>] Well&mdash;I&mdash;I'm afraid I shall have
+to leave the answer with you&mdash;am I?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Yes, I think you are&mdash;and why have you
+never married?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Well, you see, <i>some</i> people marry so often, some
+others of us don't marry at all, just to strike a sort of balance!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Laughing.</i>] That's mean of you to say to
+me! Come, answer my question honestly.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Well, I've only known one woman in the world who
+wouldn't bore me.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> There are such things as happy marriages,
+aren't there?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> I should like to risk one, only&mdash; [<i>He hesitates and
+stops.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> This "one woman in the world?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Oh, she's absurd, impossible!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Why?...</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> She wants to divorce all her husbands.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Well, but don't give her a chance!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Eh, what?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Don't give her a chance&mdash;any reason.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> By George! I never thought of that.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Delighted.</i>] You stupid!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> [<i>Delighted.</i>] Don't you know who I mean?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Very self-consciously.</i>] No&mdash;how should I?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Can't you guess?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> I don't want to guess, I want to know for
+<i>certain</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> You are "the only woman in the world!" [<i>He bows
+low before her, his right arm bent, his hand on his chest.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_587" id="Page_587">[Pg 587]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Takes his arm.</i>] Well, I am ready to run the
+risk if you are. [<span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span> <i>cross right.</i>] But
+now we mustn't lose any more time&mdash;take a cable-car; I will, it'll
+be quicker than a cab. Perhaps you won't approve of cable-cars
+for me, though. They are the most emotional mode of convenience
+I've ever tried.&mdash;This morning, in two curves I sat in three
+men's laps!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> <i>Ah.</i> [<i>Laughing.</i>] Don't let those curves get to
+be a habit, or I'll sue the company for alienating your affections.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Laughing.</i>] Come! [<i>Takes his arm again
+and they meet</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>, <i>who enters.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>As she comes.</i>] Tired out, Emily? [<span class="smcap">Dawson</span> <i>goes
+up stage to door</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Tired! I never felt so rested in all my life!
+I haven't tied up very many. [<i>With a look and gesture toward the
+table of presents.</i>] I've been interrupted&mdash;and now you must
+excuse me for a little while, but I'll come back and do some more.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> I'll go at once&mdash; [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>.] &mdash;an errand for
+Emily&mdash;Mrs. Lorrimer. [<i>Emphasis on the name and a meaning
+look.</i>] Good-bye&mdash; [<i>Going. Both women say</i> "Good-bye," <i>but</i>
+<span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span> <i>follows him.</i> <span class="smcap">Marion's</span> <i>back is turned.</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs.
+Lorrimer</span> <i>quickly gives</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span> <i>a large bunch of violets she carries
+in exchange for a small rose-bud he wears in his buttonhole. He
+cannot get it into his coat. There is amused confusion.</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>
+<i>turns and</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span> <i>quickly exits.</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span> <i>down left of
+table.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Right of table.</i>] It's like the death of someone, isn't
+it? This is the death of my marriage, and these gifts are its
+clothes.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Has&mdash;er&mdash;she gone?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> No&mdash;she's waiting up in my room.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> What for?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Quietly.</i>] I mean to make him marry her if I can,
+here, to-day.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Doubtfully.</i>] Do you think you can?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> If he loves me, I think so. I shall ask him to prove
+his love by doing the one honourable, honest thing there is for
+him to do. [<i>To sofa.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> You believe in this woman?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> He has practically acknowledged that what she says
+is true.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_588" id="Page_588">[Pg 588]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Tenderly.</i>] And <i>you</i>, dear, and your love&mdash; [<i>Crosses
+to</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>. <i>Interrupted.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> <i>My</i> love&mdash;for <i>him</i>. [<i>Sits on sofa</i>.] The blow he
+struck Jeannette fell on my heart and killed my love. A man
+who would strike a woman will do most anything,&mdash;and think
+where he did it, and <i>why</i>? Because she was pleading and fighting
+for the rights of his child!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> I am glad, dear, you can take it so calmly.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Calmly.</i>] Oh, no, it isn't exactly that&mdash;I am
+reasonable; I see I've escaped a great misery and I'm grateful&mdash; [<i>Enter</i>
+<span class="smcap">Servant</span>.] But I suffer terribly, for the moment I
+close my eyes, I see only the dreadful scene of yesterday.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> Mr. Fletcher, ma'am.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Oh! He's missed him!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> What? [<i>Rises.</i>] Who's missed who?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Nothing. Nobody!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Servant</span>.] Show him in, Howes. [<span class="smcap">Servant</span>
+<i>bows slightly and exits</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Quickly.</i>] Let me go the other way. [<i>Reaches
+door.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> You're coming back?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Yes. [<i>Kisses</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> What a sweet rose that is. [<i>Touching</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson's</span>
+<i>rose in</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer's</span> <i>dress.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Yes, it's the loveliest rose I've ever seen.
+[<i>Exit quickly as</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span> <i>enters.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Speaking seriously but pleasantly, evidently expecting
+that everything is to be made all right between them.</i>] Thank
+you for sending for me, but I would have come without your
+message!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Looks at him, surprised at his tone. Speaks quietly.</i>]
+Jeannette is upstairs waiting.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Starts; his whole manner changes; he realizes now
+that he has to fight for what he wants and against what he doesn't
+want.</i>] Why?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> I've promised her you shall marry her, if I can
+make you.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> You can't. No, no, Marion. [<i>Pleading.</i>] You
+won't throw me over for yesterday. I lost my temper, I know,
+and I'm sorry for it, but I love you&mdash; [<i>Interrupted.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Interrupting.</i>] Prove it by doing what I ask.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_589" id="Page_589">[Pg 589]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Angry.</i>] Never! [<i>Goes right.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Follows him.</i>] If you make the reparation there is
+in your power, it would save you from being utterly contemptible
+in my eyes!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> <i>You</i> say that!!!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Yes,&mdash;will you do what I ask?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Angry.</i>] No!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Angry.</i>] Then I do <i>right</i> to despise you!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> No, because it is <i>my love</i> for <i>you</i> that keeps me
+back. [<span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>laughs a bitter, satirical laugh</i>.] I will marry
+only <i>you</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Me! Ha! [<i>Laughs again.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Angrily&mdash;close to her.</i>] And I <i>will</i> marry you.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> No, you'll not! [<i>Faces him.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> I will <i>force</i> you to marry me.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> How dare you to take that tone with me.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> I dare more than that.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Goes to bell.</i>] Take care, or I'll have the servants
+turn you out of the house! [<span class="smcap">Fletcher</span> <i>laughs an ironical laugh.</i>]
+<i>Will</i> you marry Jeannette Gros!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>More angry.</i>] No! [<i>He follows her.</i>] And I
+won't leave this house, either. [<i>Takes her hand.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Don't touch me!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> I won't leave the house because it's <i>mine</i>. And
+so will <i>you</i> be!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> No!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> Yes, you will, because I'll buy you with your
+father's reputation!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> With what!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> With your father's good name.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> You&mdash;scoundrel.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> We are well mated, for you are the daughter
+of one! [<span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>immediately touches the bell, which is heard
+ringing in the distance</i>.] You had better dismiss the servant when he
+comes; I am sure you would rather he didn't hear all I have to say.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Almost under her breath.</i>] <i>You</i> cannot injure my
+father!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> Ask your uncle, Mr. Dawson! [<span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>looks
+up questioningly, as if she suddenly remembered something.</i>
+<span class="smcap">Servant</span> <i>enters</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Ask Mrs. Wolton to please come here at once.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_590" id="Page_590">[Pg 590]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> Yes, m'm. [<i>Crosses room and exits.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> You remember the night of your fancy-dress ball
+and your father's&mdash;death&mdash; [<i>He pauses</i>&mdash;<span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>doesn't
+answer, but looks troubled.</i>] He took his life to save it from
+being&mdash;disgraced, because he was a <i>thief</i>!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Stop! [<i>She draws herself up and looks</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>
+<i>in the face. He stops. She goes to door left and opens it. He
+goes right. Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span>, <i>a little frightened.</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>
+<i>takes her hand and leads her down stage.</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span> <i>sees</i>
+<span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>, <i>but does not bow.</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span> <i>bows.</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>takes</i>
+<span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton's</span> <i>hand and the two women stand, facing</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>
+<i>who stands.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> You repeat, if you dare, the vile slander of my
+father!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> Your father?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> All that I said is true, and more!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> What is true? What did he say? [<i>A pause.</i>
+<span class="smcap">Fletcher</span> <i>remains doggedly silent.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Ah! You daren't repeat it before my mother!
+[<span class="smcap">Fletcher</span> <i>sneers</i>.] You know she would prove the lie in your
+face! Did you think you would frighten me into marrying you!
+Do you think a man with a reputation like yours, could injure
+the reputation of a man like my father, loved by everyone!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> And who cheated those very people who loved
+him&mdash;that's only what <i>I</i> did. He was no better than I&mdash; [<span class="smcap">Mrs.
+Wolton</span> <i>makes a movement and an effort to interrupt him</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span>.] Let him finish, mother.
+[<i>Holding her back.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> He left you both beggars, and robbed his own
+sister besides.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> <i>It is not true!</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Not believing him.</i>] How is it, then, that we have
+everything, everything we could wish for! How is it we have
+lived in our old home, lived our old life, if we were beggars!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> How?&mdash;thanks to <i>my</i> money, <i>I've</i> paid for it all!
+[<span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>opens her lips to speak, but cannot; a short pause</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> You! [<span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>stops her with her hand on her
+arm.</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span> <i>cross to sofa.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Quietly.</i>] It is true! This is <i>my</i> house you're
+in! [<i>A pause&mdash;the two women are stunned, speechless, unable to
+comprehend and believe, yet unable to contradict. Re-enter</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span>.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_591" id="Page_591">[Pg 591]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> Ah! [<i>Relieved, as</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span> <i>is his proof.</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span>,
+<i>looking from one person to the other, realizes the situation. He looks
+a little frightened at the two women. An awkward moment's pause.</i>]
+Question <i>him</i> if you doubt my word.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> My father! Is what he says true? [<i>The women are
+afraid to question.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>.] Have you told them?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> The truth? <i>Yes!</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>.] Your reason?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> I didn't come here to do it; she made me angry.
+She drove me to it.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>In a hard, tuneless voice.</i>] He says my father was
+not honest&mdash;is that <i>true</i>?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> [<i>Answers with difficulty.</i>] Yes. [<i>A sob comes into</i>
+<span class="smcap">Marion's</span> <i>throat and she almost breaks down, but she at once
+controls herself.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> He says <i>his</i> money has been supporting us since&mdash;since&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>.] A <i>manly</i> way to put it!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Crosses left. Bursting out again.</i>] I wanted you
+to feel an obligation to me&mdash;I don't want to lose you.&mdash;You
+loved me yesterday; if you were once bound to me, you'd love
+me again&mdash;you can't change like that over night.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> If yesterday had left any love in my heart for
+you, you would have destroyed it by what you have done to-day.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> [<i>Who has gained control of herself.</i>] But I don't
+understand how it was his money&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> [<i>Interrupts.</i>] At the time of your husband's death
+a large sum of money was needed to keep his wrong-doing
+from being made public. I took Fletcher into my confidence,
+and he lent us this sum.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> You should have <i>told</i> me.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> I wanted to save you.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> No! no! It was placing me in a terribly false position.
+It was placing all of us! Well, <i>I</i> take the debt now on
+<i>my</i> shoulders! Between us three we will manage to pay it up
+in time&mdash;I am ready to give up the rest of my life to it. [<i>Crosses
+to</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>.] Don't be afraid, you will be paid!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> And you still persist in your refusal to marry me?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Yes! Yes! Yes!! A thousand times now more than
+ever.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_592" id="Page_592">[Pg 592]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> And do you think all those years you are trying
+to scrape up the money, I'll hold my tongue? I don't care
+about the money, I only care about you.&mdash;If I can't have you,
+do you think I'm going to accept the disgrace you helped heap
+upon me yesterday? Not I, if I know it! Throw me over,
+and I'll make public your father's record&mdash;every dishonest bit
+of it! [<i>Strikes table.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> [<i>Cries out.</i>] No! No! [<i>Crosses to</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> You dare threaten?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> No, no! He can't mean it.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> [<i>Taking</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson's</span> <i>arm.</i>] No, no! He wouldn't
+bring this disgrace upon us! What good would it do him?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> Then persuade her to marry me.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> No. Rather the disgrace!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>.] I never thought I would humble
+myself before you, but I do, now, and I beg you, for the love you
+say you have for me, spare the name of a man, who at least
+never harmed you! Don't dishonour my father's memory. Isn't
+it enough revenge for you that my mother and I know it! [<i>With
+tears.</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span> <i>is a little affected, but</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span> <i>does not see this,
+and interrupts. He pulls</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>away from before</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> No&mdash;I won't have you pleading to him! [<i>Places
+her to left and</i> Marion <i>puts arms about her mother.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> I know who I have to thank for all this&mdash;Rhodes!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> There is no need to mention his name. [<i>Arms
+about her mother.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> Isn't there! It was he who brought Jeannette
+here&mdash;it was he we both have to thank for yesterday's ordeal.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span>, <i>half-heartedly.</i>] What? [<i>She places</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span> <i>on sofa.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> You didn't believe me when I told you of your
+father! But this is as true as that was. And the night you
+promised to marry me, Rhodes threatened to do this very thing.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> It isn't possible! He wouldn't have submitted me
+to yesterday's humiliation!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> How else could she&mdash;living quietly in a little
+town in Switzerland&mdash;know of our affairs here?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> I confess Rhodes tried to prejudice me, but I was
+too much impressed with Fletcher's generosity.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> That money was nothing. I'd do it all over again
+to-morrow if Marion would only marry me.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_593" id="Page_593">[Pg 593]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Douglas tried to influence me, too.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> He wants you himself, that's why!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>In despair.</i>] Then I have no one&mdash;no friend to
+believe in! Not even you, Uncle Fred, for you should have
+told me about my father in the beginning.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>.] You have me!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Oh! Can't I make you understand, <i>you</i> least of
+all! [<span class="smcap">Servant</span> <i>enters and announces</i>&mdash;"Mrs. Lorrimer&mdash;Mr. Rhodes." <i>Those on the stage look up surprised.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> Oh! this is more than I will bear! Mr. Rhodes,
+I must beg you to excuse us.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> To excuse you?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> I have brought Mr. Rhodes&mdash; [<i>Interrupted.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> Then, I must ask you to take him away if he is
+unwilling to leave without you!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> No, Laura, wait&mdash; [<i>Interrupted.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Mother is right. It should have been enough for
+Mr. Rhodes to have witnessed our humiliation yesterday. It is
+adding another insult for him to come here to-day.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Marion, you don't know what you're
+saying&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> [<i>Stops</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span>.] No! Miss Wolton is
+doubtless right&mdash; [<i>Movement from</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>.] You did not
+tell me Mr. Fletcher was here, or I shouldn't have been persuaded
+to come. I prefer to go&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> No, not without my telling why you came.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> No, I must ask you to keep the reason entirely
+to yourself&mdash;and Mr. Dawson. [<i>Starts to go.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> [<i>Stops him.</i>] Not yet. I understand now why you
+have come with Mrs. Lorrimer. It is not fair that your reason
+for coming should not be known.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> We know it; Miss Wolton has sufficiently explained.
+His presence here at this moment is only another insult.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Oh, you wish me to go? [<span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span> <i>begins to
+cross back of</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span> <i>to right of table.</i>] That puts another colour
+on the matter. I am at a loss to imagine how Mrs. Wolton
+could accuse me of the sentiments she did. I will stay and
+wait for an explanation from her.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> I will give it to you if you will excuse me for a
+moment. [<i>Going.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_594" id="Page_594">[Pg 594]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> [<i>Meeting her.</i>] What are you going to do?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Bring her here&mdash;she is in my room&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Uneasy.</i>] Jeannette!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Ignoring</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>, <i>speaks to</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span> <i>in reply to</i>
+<span class="smcap">Fletcher's</span> <i>question.</i>] She will tell us who brought her to New
+York, and that will answer&mdash;Mr. Rhodes. [<i>She exits.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span>.] I refuse to remain to see this
+woman. [<i>Takes his hat.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> I have no wish to detain you&mdash;but kindly give your
+address that I may communicate with you.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> My bankers you know,&mdash;that is all that is necessary,
+as I shall very likely sail&mdash;what day is this?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Friday.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> [<i>Bitterly.</i>] Oh, yes, of course, my wedding-day
+was on Thursday! I think I shall sail in to-morrow's steamer.
+[<span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>re-enters. Sees</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span> <i>going, her voice stops him</i>.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> You are going&mdash;wait. This gentleman has asked
+me a question, which I think you can answer for me, by answering
+a question of mine to you. How did you know of my marriage
+to&mdash;of my marriage of yesterday?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Jeannette.</span> From a friend who wrote me and sent me the
+newspapers.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Meaningly.</i>] A man or woman friend?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Jeannette.</span> A woman!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Starts&mdash;it is the first shock of doubt she has had.</i>]
+Douglas Rhodes had nothing to do with your appearance yesterday
+in the church?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> [<i>Astonished&mdash;hurt.</i>] <i>You thought that?</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Jeannette.</span> Oh, no, Miss Wolton, he had nothing in the world
+to do with it.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Stands up as if shot, her face full of shame and
+grief&mdash;turns slowly toward</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span>, <i>bows her head, half whispers.</i>]
+I beg your pardon.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span>.] You see you were wrong, Mr.
+Fletcher.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> Possibly. Good-bye.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton.</span> And our secret, my husband's&mdash; [<i>Hesitates,
+searching for a word&mdash;does not finish.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fletcher.</span> Oh, I was only trying to bully your daughter into
+marrying me&mdash;a drowning man, you know&mdash;I thought I could
+make her love me again if I once had a good chance&mdash;that's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_595" id="Page_595">[Pg 595]</a></span>
+all. Well&mdash;I've bought lots of pleasure at the cost of other
+people's; now I'm going to pay my debt, I suppose, with some
+misery on my own account, but&mdash;well,&mdash;I sha'n't disturb Wolton's
+memory. [<span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span> <i>whispers aloud to herself involuntarily&mdash;</i> "Thank
+God!" <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span> <i>continues speech.</i>] Because,
+because&mdash; [<i>A sob comes in his throat.</i>] I can't help it, I
+still love his daughter. [<i>After a long look at</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>, <i>exits.</i>
+<span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>has turned from</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span> <i>and listened to the end of</i>
+<span class="smcap">Fletcher's</span> <i>speech. As he goes</i>, <span class="smcap">Jeannette</span> <i>involuntarily seizes</i>
+<span class="smcap">Marion's</span> <i>hand.</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>frees herself from</i> <span class="smcap">Jeannette</span> <i>with an
+encouraging look at her, and follows</i> <span class="smcap">Fletcher</span> <i>out.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> Well, bad as he is, there is something about
+that man that takes right hold of me. [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span>.] It's lucky
+I've fallen in love with you, or I might have had one more
+inning in the divorce club.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> I'm only afraid there's a little danger of you trying
+it again, anyway.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> With <i>you</i>? Oh, no! The day we are married
+I'm going to begin writing letters to the newspapers in favour of
+abolishing the institution.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Enters.</i> <span class="smcap">Jeannette</span> <i>goes to her quickly, calm and
+hopefully.</i>] Go to him, he is waiting. [<span class="smcap">Jeannette</span> <i>gives an
+exclamation of emotional relief and joy.</i>] Be tactful; he wants to
+sail on to-morrow's steamer&mdash;don't ... [<i>Interrupted.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Jeannette.</span> I understand&mdash;he shall sail alone, if he will only
+leave his name behind for my boy.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> That he will do&mdash;he said so. [<i>As</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>turns</i>,
+<span class="smcap">Jeannette</span> <i>takes her hand and leaves the room.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer.</span> [<i>Crosses to</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>.] Now, Marion, I want
+you to know why Douglas came.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> [<i>Rises, comes center.</i>] Please&mdash; [<i>He shakes his
+head.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> But she <i>must</i> know some time.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Not before me.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> Have you forgotten, Marion, our debt to Fletcher?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> [<i>Realizes what it is. To</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span>.] <i>You</i> would&mdash;Oh
+no, rather leave the debt with him to repay.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Why?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Because I owe you now more than I can ever repay,
+for the wonderful friendship you have given me all my
+life! I haven't the right to accept anything more from you.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_596" id="Page_596">[Pg 596]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> Let me be the judge of that&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Still, after all that's gone by, you don't hate me?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> [<i>Forgetting himself.</i>] Hate you? No. I&mdash; [<span class="smcap">Marion</span>
+<i>crosses to sofa, sits.</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span>, <i>as he begins to
+speak, has touched</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson's</span> <i>arm meaningly.</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span> <i>moves
+quickly and softly to</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span>, <i>and, with a quiet, soft, firm touch on
+his arm, stops him before he can say "I love you."</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dawson.</span> [<i>Aside to</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span>.] Wait&mdash;trust to me who love
+you both, and wait.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Douglas.</span> [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span>.] You'll leave the debt with me?</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Marion.</span> Yes! [<span class="smcap">Mrs. Lorrimer</span>, <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wolton</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Dawson</span>
+<i>all exchange happy, hopeful glances.</i> <span class="smcap">Douglas</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Marion</span> <i>look at
+each other.</i></p>
+
+<p class="center">
+<span class="smcap">Curtain</span>.<br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+
+<h4>Transcriber's Notes</h4>
+
+<p>Pages <a href="#Page_533">533</a>, <a href="#Page_536">536</a>: Variations in spelling Jeannette Gros (Jeannette
+Gross and Jeanette Gross) in the Cast of Characters lists have been
+retained to match the original book.
+</p>
+
+<p>Page <a href="#Page_540">540</a>: speakes changed to speaks.<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(She speakes aside to one)</span><br /></p>
+
+<p>Page <a href="#Page_548">548</a>: Punctuation missing in original. Added ! after "something."<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(MR. WOLTON. Give me a word of hope, Fred!&mdash;something What are you</span><br />
+going to do?)</p>
+
+<p>Page <a href="#Page_549">549</a>: Period added to end of sentence after "corner."<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(and placing them down left corner)</span><br /></p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Representative Plays by American
+Dramatists: 1856-1911: The Moth and the Flame, by Clyde Fitch
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+</body>
+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Representative Plays by American
+Dramatists: 1856-1911: The Moth and the Flame, by Clyde Fitch
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Representative Plays by American Dramatists: 1856-1911: The Moth and the Flame
+
+Author: Clyde Fitch
+
+Editor: Montrose J. Moses
+
+Release Date: June 2, 2008 [EBook #25531]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOTH AND THE FLAME ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Starner, Diane Monico, and The Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE MOTH AND THE FLAME
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: CLYDE FITCH]
+
+
+
+
+CLYDE FITCH
+
+(1865-1909)
+
+
+Clyde Fitch brought a vivacity to the American stage that no other
+American playwright has thus far succeeded in emulating. The total
+impression of his work leads one to believe that he also brought to
+the American stage a style which was at the same time literary and
+distinctly his own. His personality was interesting and lovable,
+quickly responsive to a variety of human nature. No play of his was
+ever wholly worthless, because of that personal equation which lent
+youth and spontaneity to much of his dialogue. When he attained
+popular fame, he threw off his dramas--whether original or adapted
+from the French and German--with a rapidity and ease that did much to
+create a false impression as to his haste and casualness. But Fitch,
+though a nervously quick worker, was never careless. He pondered his
+dramas long, he carried his characters in mind for years, he almost
+memorized his dialogue before he set it down on paper. And if he wrote
+in his little note-books with the same staccato speed that an artist
+sketches, it was merely because he saw the picture vividly, and
+because the preliminaries had been done beforehand.
+
+The present Editor was privileged to know Fitch as a friend. And to be
+taken into the magic circle was to be given freely of that personal
+equation which made his plays so personal. This association was begun
+over a negative criticism of a play. An invitation followed to come
+and talk it over in his Fortieth Street study, the same room
+which--decorations, furniture, books and all--was bequeathed to
+Amherst College, and practically reproduces there the Fitchean
+flavour.
+
+I have seen Clyde Fitch on many diverse occasions. Through incisive
+comment on people, contemporary manners, and plays, which was let drop
+in conversation, I was able to estimate the natural tendency of
+Fitch's mind. His interest was never concerned solely with dominant
+characters; he was quick rather to sense the idiosyncrasies of the
+average person. His observation was caught by the seemingly
+unimportant, but no less identifying peculiarities of the middle
+class. Besides which, his irony was never more happy than when aimed
+against that social set which he knew, and good-humouredly satirized.
+
+To know Clyde Fitch intimately--no matter for how short a while--was
+to be put in possession of his real self. From early years, he showed
+the same tendencies which later developed more fully, but were not
+different. Success gave him the money to gratify his tastes for
+_objets d'art_, which he used to calculate closely to satisfy in the
+days when "Beau Brummell" and "Frederic Lemaitre" gave hint of his
+dramatic talent. He was a man of deep sentiment, shown to his friends
+by the countless graceful acts as host, and shown to his players. As
+soon as a Fitch play began to be a commodity, coveted by the
+theatrical manager, he nearly always had personal control of its
+production, and could dictate who should be in his casts. No dramatist
+has left behind him more profoundly pleasing memories of artistic
+association than Clyde Fitch. The names of his plays form a roster of
+stage associations--the identification of "Beau Brummell" with Richard
+Mansfield; of "Nathan Hale" with N. C. Goodwin; of "Barbara Frietchie"
+with Julia Marlowe; of "The Climbers" with Amelia Bingham; of "The
+Stubbornness of Geraldine" with Mary Mannering; of "The Truth" and
+"The Girl With Green Eyes" with Clara Bloodgood--to mention a few
+instances. Those who recall happy hours spent with Fitch at his
+country homes--either at "Quiet Corner," Greenwich, Connecticut, or at
+"The Other House," Katonah, New York, have vivid memory of his
+pervasive cordiality. His players, likewise, those whose identifying
+talent caught his fancy, had the same care and attention paid them in
+his playwriting. Sometimes, it may be, this graciousness of his made
+him cut his cloth to suit the figure. "Beau Brummell" was the very
+mold and fashion of Mansfield: but that was _Brummell's_ fault and
+Mansfield's genius, to which was added the adaptability of Fitch. But
+there are no seams or patches to "Captain Jinks of the Horse
+Marines"--its freshness caught the freshness of Ethel Barrymore, and
+Fitch was confident of the blend. His eye was unerring as to stage
+effect, and he would go to all ends of trouble, partly for sentiment,
+partly for accuracy, and always for novelty, to create the desired
+results. Did he not, with his own hands, wire the apple-blossoms for
+the orchard scene in "Lovers' Lane?" Was he not careful to get the
+right colour for the dawn in "Nathan Hale," and the Southern evening
+atmosphere in "Barbara Frietchie?" And in such a play as "Girls," did
+he not delight in the accessories, like the clatter of the steam-pipe
+radiator, for particular New York environment which he knew so
+graphically how to portray?
+
+That was the boy--the Peter Pan quality--in Clyde Fitch; it was not
+his love for the trivial, for he could be serious in the midst of it.
+His temperament in playwriting was as variable as Spring weather--it
+was extravagant in its responsiveness to the momentary mood. He would
+suggest a whole play in one scene; a real flash of philosophy or of
+psychology would be lost in the midst of a slight play on words for
+the sake of a laugh. One finds that often the case in "A Happy
+Marriage." He was never more at home than when squeezing all the human
+traits and humour out of a given situation, which was subsidiary to
+the plot, yet in atmosphere complete in itself. The _Hunter's_
+drawing-room just after the funeral, in "The Climbers;" the church
+scene in "The Moth and the Flame," which for jocularity and small
+points is the equal of Langdon Mitchell's wedding scene in "The New
+York Idea," though not so sharply incisive in its satire; the deck on
+board ship in "The Stubbornness of Geraldine" (so beautifully
+burlesqued by Weber and Fields as "The Stickiness of Gelatine"); and
+_Mr. Roland's_ rooms in _Mrs. Crespigny's_ flat, which almost upset,
+in its humourous bad taste, the tragedy of "The Truth"--these are
+instances of his unusual vein. One finds it is by these fine points,
+these obvious clevernesses that Fitch paved the way to popular
+success. But there was far more to him than this--there was the
+literary sense which gave one the feeling of reality in his plays--not
+alone because of novelty or familiarity of scene, but because of the
+uttered word.
+
+Human foibles and frailties were, therefore, his specialty. Out of his
+vast product of playwriting, one remembers stories and scenes, rather
+than personages; one recalls characteristics rather than characters;
+one treasures quick interplay of words rather than the close reason
+for such. Because of that, some are right in attributing to him a
+feminine quickness of observation, or rather a minute observation for
+the feminine. That is why he determined, in "The City," to dispel the
+illusion that he could not write a man's play, or draw masculine
+characters. Yet was not _Sam Coast_, in "Her Own Way," almost the
+equal of _Georgiana Carley_?
+
+I recall, one midnight--the week before Mr. Fitch sailed on his last
+trip to Europe--he read me "The City," two acts of which were in
+their final shape, the third in process of completion. There used to
+be a superstition among the managers to the effect that if you ever
+wished to consider a play by Fitch, he must be kept from reading it
+himself; for if he did, you would accept it on the spot. All the
+horror of that powerful arraignment of city life, and the equally
+powerful criticism of country life, was brought out on this evening we
+were together, and I was able to see just where, as a stage director,
+Clyde Fitch must have been the mainstay at rehearsals. He never lived
+to give the final touches to his manuscript of "The City,"--touches
+which always meant so much to him; he was dead by the time rehearsals
+were called, and there slipped from the performance some of the
+significant atmosphere he described to me.
+
+There comes vividly to my mind his questions after the reading--trying
+out his effects on me, so to speak. Rapidly he reviewed the work on
+the third act he had planned for the morrow, consulting with me as
+though suddenly I had become a collaborator. In such a way he must
+have planned with Mansfield over _Brummell_; thus he may have worked
+with Julia Marlowe, telling her some of the romantic incidents he had
+drawn from his mother's own Maryland love story for "Barbara
+Frietchie." In the same naive spirit, he consulted, by letter, with
+Arthur Byron for his "stardom" in "Major Andre"--which waned so soon
+after the first night.
+
+Everything about the room that evening he read "The City" bore
+evidence of the playwright's personality. The paintings and
+bric-a-brac, the books--mostly biography and letters--the tapestries
+which seemed to blend with the bowls of flowers and furniture of
+French design, the windows looking out on lawns, gardens, and a pond
+with swans upon it, the moonlight on the Cupids that kept guard at
+intervals along the top of a snakelike stone fence--and Fitch, vital,
+happy in his work, happy in his friends, happy in life, as he had
+planned to live it in the years to come. And death waiting him across
+the water!
+
+"Beau Brummell" began Clyde Fitch's career as a dramatist. It was
+produced at the New York Madison Square Theatre, May 17, 1890. At that
+time he had not evinced any determination to be a dramatist--but was
+writing juvenile sketches for _The Churchman_, afterwards gathered in
+a charming volume called "The Knighting of the Twins, and Ten Other
+Tales" (1891). Previous to this, he had attempted "A Wave of Life"--a
+novel whose chief value is autobiographic. Then he showed his clever
+facility at dialogue in a collection of "Six Conversations and Some
+Correspondence;" also in "The Smart Set." But, after the success of
+"Brummell," followed by "Frederic Lemaitre" (December 1, 1890) for
+Henry Miller, a dramatic season hardly passed that Fitch was not
+represented on the bill-boards by two or three comedies. It was very
+rarely that he rewrote his dramas under new titles; it was unusual for
+him to use over again material previously exploited. Exceptions to
+this were in the cases of "The Harvest," a one-act sketch given by the
+New York Theatre of Arts and Letters (January 26, 1893), afterwards
+(April 11, 1898) included as an act of "The Moth and the Flame;"
+"Mistress Betty" (October 15, 1895), for Mme. Modjeska, afterwards
+revamped as "The Toast of the Town" (November 27, 1905) for Viola
+Allen. Interest in the period of Beau Brummell stretched over into
+"The Last of the Dandies" for Beerbohm Tree. But otherwise the bulk of
+his work came each season as a Fitch novelty. He often played against
+himself, the popularity of one play killing the chances of the other.
+For instance, when "Lovers' Lane" opened in New York, there were also
+running "Captain Jinks of the Horse Marines," "Barbara Frietchie" and
+"The Climbers." When "The Cowboy and the Lady" was given in
+Philadelphia, "Nathan Hale" beat it in box-office receipts, and Fitch
+wrote to a friend: "If any play is going to beat it, I'd rather it was
+one of mine, eh?"
+
+By the time he was ready to write "The Moth and the Flame," Fitch had
+won distinction with a variety of picturesque pieces, like "His Grace
+de Grammont," for Otis Skinner, and "Nathan Hale," for Goodwin and
+Maxine Elliott. It may be said to have come just when his vivacity was
+on the increase, for touches in it gave foretaste of his later society
+dramas, and showed his planning, in the manner of the French, for
+excellent theatrical effect. He was to become more expert in the use
+of materials, but no whit less clever in his expansion of "small talk"
+and society shallowness.
+
+"The Harvest" is an early example of Fitch's method of workmanship. It
+was carefully planned and quickly written; in fact, it was set down on
+paper while Fitch was on the four o'clock train between New York and
+Boston; his motive was to show the dangerous power and fascination of
+a clever, dissipated, attractive man-of-the-world on a young girl,
+who, in her innocence, does not understand the warnings given her on
+all sides. The idea grew in his mind, and this growth resulted in "The
+Moth and the Flame," which entered more fully into the "fast" life of
+a man about town, and the dangerous ignorance of the society girl.
+Fitch loved to sketch the smart woman, like _Mrs. Lorrimer_, who, as
+someone has said, is frivolously constituted, but sharply witty and
+with some depth of heart. The fancy-dress party scene is
+autobiographic, he having attended such an occasion at Carroll
+Beckwith's studio, in New York. In technique, this scene is comparable
+with the one of similar gaiety in "Lord and Lady Algy"--both having an
+undercurrent of serious strain. The tragedy motive is relieved at
+almost calculated times by comedy, which shows that Fitch held to the
+old dramatic theory of comic relief. Often this was irritating,
+discounting the mood he was trying to maintain. He was not as skilful
+in the use of these varying elements as Pinero, with whom he might be
+compared--not for strength of characterization, for fullness of story
+or for the sheer art of interest, but for creative vitality and
+variety, as well as for literary feeling in the use of materials. But
+more important than all these was his desire to be true to the
+materials he had selected. On this subject he always had much to say,
+and his comments about Truth in the theatre comprise an enlightening
+exposition of his dramatic theory. This it is well to examine. In
+1901, he adapted, from the French, "Sapho"--to the production of which
+was attached some unpleasant notoriety--and "The Marriage Game." And
+of these he wrote (in _Harper's Weekly_), in response to current
+criticism, as follows:
+
+    It is only fair to myself and to my work done on the two
+    plays to say that my intention and desire in both instances
+    were to be faithful to the French original, and to have the
+    outcome a resultant moral--to the good. To put it mildly, I
+    do not seem to have created that impression exactly in the
+    minds of the public. From their verdict and yours I have
+    picked myself up, pulled myself together, and realized my
+    failure. I had thought I was taking a building from one
+    country and rebuilding it in another with the same stones,
+    but I discovered I had apparently pulled down one structure
+    and raised no other. Believe me, no one regretted this more
+    than I. But I think I have finally learned my lesson. I have
+    learned another thing that I can't do, and I have added it to
+    the list of things I sha'n't try to do. What I _am_ trying to
+    do is to reflect life of all kinds as I see it. To write,
+    first, plays that will interest and mean something; and,
+    after that, amuse. I would rather entertain everybody than
+    one body. And always and in any case with a result to the
+    good. I am trying especially to reflect our own life of the
+    present, and to get into the heart of the pictures made by
+    the past. To do this I do not consider any detail too small,
+    so long as it is not boring. Nor any method wrong which I
+    feel to be true. I am naturally not always believed in, and I
+    do not always make myself clear. Sometimes I think I am
+    misunderstood through laziness. To give one instance, of one
+    or the other: in a recent play of mine, 'The Climbers',
+    something which I meant to be psychologically true was taken
+    to be a theatrical trick. A man who was dishonest in
+    business, but who loved his wife with the really strong love
+    that such weak natures are capable of, is asked to look that
+    wife in the face and, before a group of angry friends and
+    relatives, confess the extent of his crime, his disgrace! I
+    felt, and I still feel, the man couldn't look into his wife's
+    eyes and say the whole ugly truth. And doubly he couldn't
+    with the to him cruel environment of the outraged circle
+    holding back the sympathy of his wife from him. He would feel
+    and cry out to her, 'Let me tell you alone, if I must tell
+    it, and _in the dark, in the dark_!' when he could not see
+    the heart-breaking shame grow upon her face, nor see his own
+    guilty face reflected in her eyes. The end of this sentence
+    he would reiterate, grasping it, too, on the impulse, as a
+    means to put off the ordeal. 'In the dark,--later in the
+    dark', he would tell her everything. But there is no time to
+    be lost if a public scandal is to be averted. The worst must
+    be known at once. The chief friend of them all is there. It
+    is he who is to fight hardest to save them. He knows the
+    house well, and besides he has seen that very evening, after
+    dinner, the lights turned on by the servant with the electric
+    lever. He stands beside this lever. He quickly seizes the
+    last sentence of the cornered guilty man, and, before the
+    latter can think or retract, cries: 'Tell it in the dark,
+    then!' and plunges the room in darkness. The natural impulse
+    of that defaulter under those circumstances would be to blurt
+    out with it; at least so I believe. Such was his vacillating,
+    impulsive nature. And for the same reason the attempt to
+    escape in the dark, which was silly, futile! It was another
+    sudden impulse; had it been otherwise, he was far too
+    sensible to have tried it. I developed that scene by taking
+    the place mentally, or trying to, of each one of the persons
+    engaged in it. I did not start with the so-called 'dark
+    scene'. I had no idea I was going to do what I did until I
+    reached the moment in my writing when it had to be done--at
+    least done that way or not at all. As it occurred to me, so
+    it would have occurred to the friend in the play. And so it
+    did! And knowing this evolution of the scene, I cannot think
+    myself that it was 'a theatrical trick'. In all cases I try
+    to paint my personages from the inside instead of the out,
+    and to cling to human nature as both my starting-point and my
+    goal. This is what I want to do and am trying to do--in a
+    sentence--to tell the Truth in the Theatre. I am trying
+    honestly, and my heart is in it. That's all, except that I am
+    glad of your belief in me.
+
+This frankness and sincerity were typical of Fitch's correspondence
+with everyone who took him seriously. He went to every pains to
+explain himself, and no man more gratefully acknowledged earnest
+attention. It was his quickness to detect in others the spark of
+creative appreciation that made him answer letters to perfect
+strangers, giving them advice as to playwriting. "I like the tone of
+that man's note," he once said to me. "I'll send for him; he may be a
+good actor."
+
+It was not often that he wrote on the theory of his work. There is an
+essay by him, published in 1904, and called "The Play and the Public."
+It is often quoted. But a good thing bears constant repetition, and
+the following sounds Fitch's conviction on a fundamental belief:
+
+    I feel myself very strongly the particular value--a value
+    which, rightly or wrongly, I can't help feeling
+    inestimable--in a modern play of reflecting absolutely and
+    truthfully the life and environment about us; every class,
+    every kind, every emotion, every motive, every occupation,
+    every business, every idleness! Never was life so varied, so
+    complex; what a choice, then! Take what strikes you most, in
+    the hope it will interest others. Take what suits you most to
+    do--what perhaps you can do best--and then do it better. Be
+    truthful, and then nothing can be too big, nothing should be
+    too small, so long as it is here, and _there_! Apart from the
+    question of literature, apart from the question of art,
+    reflect the real thing with true observation and with sincere
+    feeling for what it is and what it represents, and that is
+    art and literature in a modern play. If you inculcate an idea
+    in your play, so much the better for your play and for
+    you--and for your audience. In fact, there is small hope for
+    your play _as_ a play if you haven't some small idea in it
+    somewhere and somehow, even if it is hidden--it is sometimes
+    better for you if it is hidden, but it must of course be
+    integral. Some ideas are mechanical. Then they are no good.
+    These are the ideas for which the author does all the work,
+    instead of letting the ideas do the work for him. One should
+    write what one sees, but observe under the surface. It is a
+    mistake to look at the reflection of the sky in the water of
+    theatrical convention. Instead, look up and into the sky of
+    real life itself.
+
+All sound advice, and a compressed manual of dramatic technique for
+the beginner! But Fitch had the darting eye of a migratory interest.
+He often didn't "follow through," as they say in golf. With the
+result that he is often scored for insufficient motivation. But my
+knowledge of him makes me realize he felt and saw deeper than his
+epigrammatic style indicated. His technique was therefore often
+threadbare in spots,--not of that even mesh which makes of Pinero such
+an exceptional designer. I would put Fitch's "Captain Jinks of the
+Horse Marines" above Edward Sheldon's "Romance" for the faithful
+reproduction of early New York atmosphere. I would put it by the side
+of Pinero's "Trelawney of the 'Wells'." But there is no play of
+Fitch's which, for strength, I would hold beside "The Thunderbolt." In
+his feminine analyses, too, he did not probe as deep as Pinero.
+
+Within a few months of his death, Fitch was asked to deliver an
+address on the theatre at Harvard and at Yale. He enlarged his
+magazine article on "The Play and the Public" for that purpose. It is
+now easily accessible, included in the fourth volume of the Memorial
+Edition of his plays. It was found among his many papers and
+unfinished manuscripts. There is no recent playwright whose "Life and
+Letters" are more worthy of preservation. I have looked through most
+of the materials; have seen letters descriptive of his childhood in
+Schenectady, New York, (he was born, May 2, 1865 in Elmira); have read
+accounts of his student days at Amherst, where vagaries of dress used
+to stir his associates to student pranks; have relished an illustrated
+diary he kept while tutoring in his early years of struggle, his
+father refusing to countenance playwriting instead of architecture.
+These early years were filled with the same vivacity, affection and
+sympathy which later made him such a rare friend. It bears repeating
+what has been often said before--he had a genius for friendship, and
+an equal genius for losing those he did not want.
+
+Such a biography as should be written of his picturesque popularity as
+a playwright would mostly be autobiographic. For a letter from Fitch
+had rare flavour, more personal than his plays but of the same
+Fitchean quality. It would, as well, be a personal record of the
+stage, and would set at rest many myths that have floated around his
+name--such as William Winter wilfully circulated about "Beau
+Brummell."[A]
+
+"The Moth and the Flame" is here reproduced because it has never
+before been issued, and should be made available to the student of
+American Drama. To say that it is typically Fitchean does not mean
+that, in technique or in characterization, it is his best. But it is
+confession that whatever he wrote bore that incommunicable touch which
+gives him a unique position--a position no American playwright thus
+far has been able to usurp.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote A: Since this was written, it has been announced that a
+volume, "Clyde Fitch and his Letters," is being prepared by the
+Editors of the "Memorial Edition" of Fitch's plays.]
+
+
+
+
+LYCEUM THEATRE.                            12th Season.
+
+NEW YORK THEATRE CO.,                        PROPRIETORS
+
+DANIEL FROHMAN,                                 MANAGER
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+WEEK COMMENCING MONDAY EVENING, APRIL 11, 1898.
+
+Evenings at 8.30. Thursday and Saturday Matinees, at 2.15.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+DANIEL FROHMAN takes pleasure in presenting
+
+=THE KELCEY-SHANNON=
+COMPANY,
+
+_Herbert Kelcey, Effie Shannon, Wm. J. LeMoyne, Sarah Cowell
+LeMoyne_ and their organization, under the management of
+
+SAMUEL F. KINGSTON, presenting
+
+=THE MOTH AND THE FLAME=
+
+an Original Play, in Three Acts.
+
+By CLYDE FITCH.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+CAST OF CHARACTERS.
+
+EDWARD FLETCHER                              Mr. KELCEY
+MR. DAWSON                           Mr. WM. J. LeMOYNE
+MR. WOLTON                             Mr. E. W. THOMAS
+DOUGLAS RHODES                          Mr. BRUCE McRAE
+JOHNSTONE                                Mr. EDWARD SEE
+FANSHAW                              Mr. DAVID TORRENCE
+TRIMMINS                          Mr. EDW. H. WILKINSON
+CLERGYMAN                          Mr. SYLVESTER DEEHAN
+HOWES                                   Mr. EDWIN JAMES
+  MARION WOLTON                            Miss SHANNON
+  MRS. LORRIMER               Mrs. SARAH COWELL LeMOYNE
+  MRS. WOLTON                       Mrs. ISABEL WALDRON
+  JEANNETTE GROSS                  Miss ELEANOR MORETTI
+  ETHEL                                Miss LEILA ELLIS
+  KITTY                              Miss EDNA PHILLIPS
+  GERTRUDE                          Miss ETHEL KINGSTON
+  BLANCHE                              Miss MARY HANSON
+  BESSY                                 Miss MAMIE DUNN
+  MRS. FLETCHER, SR.                Mrs. FRANCES FERREN
+  MAID                                Miss EMMA JANVIER
+
+Guests, Bridesmaids, etc., by Pupils of the Stanhope-Wheatcroft School.
+
+Produced under the stage direction of the Author.
+
+Costumes for Act I. from special designs executed by Maurice Herrmann.
+
+Programme continued on second page following.
+
+
+
+
+ACT I.--
+
+        _Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence Wolton
+                   At Home
+        Tuesday Evening, January ----
+              at Ten O'clock._
+
+_Children's Costumes
+    de rigueur._               _---- East 69th Street._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+ACT II.--_One year later_--
+
+            _Mrs. Lawrence Wolton
+     requests the honor of your presence
+       at the Marriage of her Daughter,
+                   Marion,
+                     to
+        Mr. Edward Houghton Fletcher,
+          Thursday, February 10th,
+              at Five o'clock,
+       St. Hubert's Chapel, New York._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+ACT III.--THE FOLLOWING DAY.
+
+
+
+
+THE MOTH AND THE FLAME
+
+_By_ CLYDE FITCH
+
+COPYRIGHT, 1908
+
+ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
+
+BY CLYDE FITCH AND ALICE KAUSER
+
+Copyright, 1919, by E. P. Dutton & Company, Alice Kauser, and Frank E.
+Whitman and Bernard M. L. Ernst, as Executors of the Estate of Alice
+M. Fitch, deceased.
+
+
+[The Editor wishes to record here, in memoriam, his grateful
+appreciation of the desire shown by the late Mrs. Fitch to have in the
+present Collection a hitherto unpublished play by her son, Clyde
+Fitch. Through her courtesy, "The Moth and the Flame" is here
+included.]
+
+
+
+
+CAST OF CHARACTERS
+
+EDWARD FLETCHER
+MR DAWSON
+MR WOLTON
+DOUGLAS RHODES
+JOHNSTONE
+FANSHAW
+TRIMMINS
+CLERGYMAN
+HOWES
+MARION WOLTON
+MRS. LORRIMER
+MRS. WOLTON
+JEANETTE GROSS
+ETHEL
+KITTY
+GERTRUDE
+BLANCHE
+MAID
+MRS. FLETCHER
+
+_Guests, Bridesmaids, Choristers, Servants and others_.
+
+
+
+
+ACT I.
+
+
+    SCENE. _The First Act takes place in the_ WOLTON'S _house
+    during a large fancy ball. All the guests are in children's
+    costumes--that being insisted upon in the invitations. The
+    stage represents a reception-room; the end of a conservatory,
+    or ball-room, being seen through a large archway. In the
+    upper right hand corner of the stage is a small stage built
+    with curtains and foot-lights, for an amateur vaudeville
+    performance, which is taking place._
+
+    _At rise of curtain the room is filled with guests in
+    costume, on chairs before improvised stage, and the curtain
+    of stage is just falling, as one of the Lady Guests--who,
+    dressed (and blacked) as a small Darky Girl, has been singing
+    a popular negro ballad ("Warmest Baby.") The mimic curtain
+    rises again, owing to the applause of the mimic audience. The
+    chorus of song is repeated and the curtain again falls to
+    applause. There is a general movement among guests--with
+    laughter and conversation._
+
+    DISCOVERED. MARION WOLTON, _dressed in Empire Child's gown,
+    is sitting in one of the third row of chairs next the
+    foot-lights. Up to now her back is partly turned toward the
+    audience._ KITTY RAND, _dressed in short skirts, is just
+    behind her_.
+
+FANSHAW. [_Leaning over to_ MARION.] I think, Marion, this was really
+a most amusing idea of yours, having us all come as children.
+
+    _Enter_ DOUGLAS RHODES, _in white sailor costume. He meets_
+    MRS. WOLTON _who enters. They talk._
+
+MARION. [_To_ KITTY.] Your costume, Kitty, is charming.
+
+KITTY. [_With a ball on rubber cord._] My dear, I'm sure I look a
+sight. I feel as if it were bathing hour at Narragansett.
+
+MARION. Here's Bessie. How splendid she was. [_Rises._] [_Enter_
+BESSIE. _She laughs as she is greeted by shouts of laughter and
+applause by guests. She joins_ MARION, _who shakes her hand_.] You
+were too funny, Bessie. [_A guest rises and offers seat to_ BESSIE.
+_She accepts it and sits._
+
+JOHNSTONE. [_Monkey; white kilt suit._] [_To_ BESSIE _as she sits_.]
+Yes. Isn't this an awfully lovely party? [_To_ FANSHAW.] Here,
+Fanshaw, it's your turn.
+
+GUESTS _and_ ALL. Yes, come on Fanshaw, etc. [FANSHAW _exits_.
+
+RHODES _comes from_ MRS. WOLTON, _nodding pleasantly to guests as he
+passes round behind them, to_ MARION. _He shakes her hand._
+
+MARION. Why so late, Douglas?
+
+DOUGLAS. I was dining with Mrs. Lorrimer; but I hope you've saved me a
+seat by you. [BLANCHE _exits, ready for stage_.
+
+MARION. I'm sorry, but I haven't. There's the curtain.
+
+   _She sits and_ DOUGLAS _takes a place back of guests, shaking
+   hands with_ TRIMMINS _as he does so. Mimic curtain rises,
+   music begins, all interrupt with "Sh-h."_ FANSHAW _enters on
+   mimic stage, dressed as Little Lord Fauntleroy, and sings.
+   Mimic curtain falls to applause. Curtain is raised. Black
+   rag-baby thrown to him during song._ FANSHAW _enters, bows,
+   and, as he does so_, BLANCHE _throws a small bouquet of
+   flowers to him. This he catches and makes entrance upon stage
+   by jumping over mimic foot-lights. He is congratulated and
+   thanked by_ MARION _and resumes his seat_.
+
+   _Music begins. All interrupt again with "Sh-h." Curtain is
+   raised, and enter_ ETHEL, _dressed as a child of 1840, in
+   white and green. She comes forward and sings_ ("_Henrietta_"),
+   _with orchestral accompaniment, a flute obligato being a
+   feature of the latter, which, every little while, indulges in
+   loud variations, entirely drowning the singer's voice, much to
+   her annoyance, and the only half-suppressed amusement of the
+   guests. As she reaches the chorus all_ (_at_ MARION'S
+   _suggestion_) _join in with her and finish the song_. MARION
+   _rises, giving the signal that the entertainment is over.
+   Servants come in and take away most of the chairs, leaving one
+   in centre of stage and three up toward the left centre. All
+   rise and form groups; those of guests near the door move into
+   ball-room and off._ ETHEL _enters, and_ MARION _at once greets
+   her_, KITTY _and_ JOHNSTONE _joining them_.
+
+MARION. Thank you ever so much.
+
+JOHNSTONE. Yes, indeed. Isn't this an awfully lovely party.
+
+ETHEL. [_With large hoople and stick; quickly, much put out_.] My dear
+Marion, I could choke that flute player.
+
+MARION. Don't be selfish, Ethel; the man wanted to be heard. [_Goes up
+to_ DOUGLAS.
+
+ETHEL. If I were a witch, I'd curse him with asthma. Mr. Johnstone, go
+and curse him for me.
+
+JOHNSTONE. With pleasure.
+
+ETHEL. Just give him a piece of my mind. [_Enter_ GIRL.
+
+JOHNSTONE. [_Flatteringly._] He doesn't deserve such a gift. But isn't
+this a lovely party? Will you excuse me? [_He goes up stage to_
+BLANCHE, _offers his arm, which she takes, and they exit._ KITTY _and_
+ETHEL _watch_ BLANCHE _and_ JOHNSTONE, _amused._
+
+KITTY. [_To_ ETHEL.] Just look at Blanche. Do you suppose she's going
+to--
+
+ETHEL. She's going to with all her might and main, if he will only ask
+her.
+
+KITTY. A large if-- [_Laughing._ FANSHAW _and_ GERTRUDE _join_ ETHEL
+_and_ KITTY _down stage._
+
+FANSHAW. Looks as if Johnny were getting pretty stuck on Blanche,
+doesn't it? [_Goes to_ KITTY. TRIMMINS _moves up centre._
+
+ETHEL. Yes, or just the other way round. [_All laugh._
+
+GERTRUDE. Who are you dancing the cotillon with, Ethel?
+
+ETHEL. Don't know. I've promised two men, but I haven't made up my
+mind who I'll dance with yet.
+
+FANSHAW. A nice person to engage for a partner. [_Calling._] Trimmins!
+
+ETHEL. Sh-h! He's one of the men I've promised.
+
+FANSHAW. [_Laughing._] Never mind. I'm the other. [_All laugh._
+GERTRUDE _says_, "Oh, Ethel!" GERTRUDE _goes toward_ MARION, ETHEL _and_
+KITTY _at same time._ MARION _exits._
+
+FANSHAW. [_To_ TRIMMINS.] Who are you dancing the cotillon with,
+Trimmins?
+
+TRIMMINS. Ethel Stevens!
+
+FANSHAW. Who?
+
+TRIMMINS. Ethel Stevens!
+
+FANSHAW. I'll bet a fiver you're not. She's dancing with me.
+
+TRIMMINS. [_Very pleased._] Delighted! I owe you the five with joy.
+[_Rushes_ FANSHAW _out of the way. Crossing to_ GERTRUDE.] Will you
+give me the pleasure? [DOUGLAS _out at back, exits._] Thank you.
+[_Offers his arm, which_ GERTRUDE _takes, and they go out at back._
+
+FANSHAW. Well!
+
+MARION. Are you going to stand perfectly still and be robbed in that
+manner? [_Laughing._
+
+FANSHAW. Well, but what am I-- [_Interrupted by one of the girl
+guests, who says_, "I'm here!"] Oh, so you are. [_Puts his arm in
+hers, and they run off together._
+
+ETHEL. Marion, isn't Mr. Ned Fletcher coming to-night?
+
+MARION. Yes. [_Exit._
+
+KITTY. I'm so glad; he's quite the most amusing man in town this
+winter. [_Sitting on chair which servant left._
+
+ETHEL. And so many people won't ask him to their houses, you know.
+Mamma won't.
+
+KITTY. Well, you know, your mother's a ridiculous person; she asks
+lots of awfully fast men!
+
+ETHEL. Yes, but they are all relatives.
+
+KITTY. [_Putting arm around_ ETHEL, _pricks her finger._] I don't
+believe Net Fletcher is as bad as people hint. He's too good looking.
+[_Fixing dress._
+
+ETHEL. And I don't care whether he's bad or not, he's charming enough
+to make up for it. Besides, I suppose all men are bad.
+
+KITTY. Oh--I don't know.
+
+ETHEL. I mean all nice men.
+
+KITTY. Where has Mr. Fletcher been before this winter?
+
+ETHEL. My dear, he's one of those men who live all over the
+place--most of the time in Europe--but he's been here always off and
+on--and in Newport and in Lenox he has yachts and things, don't you
+know! [_Exits down right._
+
+MARION. [_Enters._] Girls, will you go into the ball-room, till the
+men get the tables ready here? [_She speaks aside to one of the
+servants, and exits. Servants bring on small table and place it with
+bottles, lunch, etc., a broken glass covered with napkins to fall on
+stage. Place seven chairs about table. Exit._
+
+ETHEL. _Of course._ [_To_ KITTY, _crossing to her._] Do you notice how
+she won't talk about Fletcher and won't listen to any one else either?
+
+KITTY. My dear, she's heels over head.
+
+ETHEL. Poor Douglas Rhodes! [_Half smiling, in part satire._
+
+KITTY. Serves him right for hanging around her all his life! Why
+didn't he flirt with one of us girls for a time, if only to make her
+jealous! [ETHEL _sees_ DOUGLAS _enter, and tries to warn_ KITTY. ETHEL
+_gives_ KITTY _a violent pull of the arm to warn her to stop speaking
+of_ DOUGLAS.
+
+ETHEL. [_To_ DOUGLAS.] You can't stay here; we're driven out.
+
+KITTY. Come, help us make fun of the other people.
+
+DOUGLAS. In a few minutes. I must give you a chance to make fun of me!
+
+KITTY. Oh, we've been doing that for years! [_ETHEL blows DOUGLAS'
+whistle which he has suspended from neck, pulling it out of his
+pocket. ETHEL and KITTY smile coquettishly at DOUGLAS and exit into
+ball-room, arm in arm. Distant music off stage. DOUGLAS follows up
+centre. A pause. Enter MARION. DOUGLAS, up stage, looks admiringly at
+her, and smiles. Then, smiling and putting himself into a boyish
+attitude, he says boyishly._
+
+DOUGLAS. Hello, Molly!
+
+MARION. [_Smiling back, catching his mood, speaks girlishly._] Hello,
+Dug! It does take one back to old days, doesn't it!
+
+DOUGLAS. That was what I was thinking of, Marion, the days of
+dancing-school. How good you were to always be my partner, even though
+I couldn't reverse without treading on your toes!
+
+MARION. [_Smiling._] You were a bad dancer--and death to slippers.
+
+DOUGLAS. And the children's parties, with the old games, "Post
+Office," "Copenhagen," "Kiss in the Ring."
+
+MARION. [_Smiling mischievously._] You were good enough at "Kiss in
+the Ring" to make up for your not reversing.
+
+DOUGLAS. [_With real sentiment, crosses to her._] Do you remember it
+all as well as I do?
+
+MARION. [_Realizing his sentiment, and trying to change their mood,
+but pleasantly._] Of course I do! We were great friends then, as we
+are now, and as I hope we always will be, Douglas.
+
+DOUGLAS. But if we played the old games again, would it be the same?
+
+MARION. No, no, things are never the same.
+
+DOUGLAS. But would you let me choose you always? Would you pretend not
+to see me coming, so I could slap your hands on the Copenhagen rope
+and take my reward? If we played "Post Office," would _I_ have all my
+letters from _your_ lips! Would you mind if, in "bow to the wittiest,
+kneel to the prettiest, and kiss the one you loved best," I choose you
+again, openly, for all three? Would you give me _all_ your dances?
+
+MARION. [_More serious, though still smiling kindly, sweetly._] That's
+just it, Douglas! You can reverse now, and there are so many other
+girls wanting partners!
+
+DOUGLAS. But-- [_Interrupted._
+
+MARION. Besides, after all, we're only children _outside_ to-night;
+our _hearts_ have come of age!
+
+DOUGLAS. Yes, Marion, but, boy's and man's, my heart's the same. I
+want the same partner I did then, only I want her for the game of
+life!
+
+MARION. I am so sorry!
+
+DOUGLAS. Sorry? Then you won't let your hands lie on the rope for me
+any more?
+
+MARION. I am very fond of you, Douglas, and I always was, but-- [_She
+hesitates._
+
+DOUGLAS. [_A little bitterly, disappointed._] I know what you mean. I
+was all right for dancing-school, but life is a more serious
+matter-- [_MARION goes to chair and sits down._] I know I'm not like
+you, Marion--I know what an intellectual woman you are, and what an
+ordinary sort of fellow I am. But I _love_ you! and I hoped-- [_He
+breaks off and continues with his first idea._] You went to a woman's
+college, and I _only_ to a _man's_--You made a study of sociology--I,
+[_Smiling._] principally of athletics. I know I never read books, and
+you seem to read everything. But I love you. You have your clubs for
+working girls, your charities; I know the busy, helpful life you lead.
+You have so much in it, I was in hopes that what room was left for a
+_husband_ was so little, even _I_ could fill it. And somehow or other
+I've always taken it for granted you more or less understood, and
+were--willing.
+
+MARION. I was--once--
+
+DOUGLAS. You were?
+
+MARION. There was no one in the world I liked so much to be with as
+you, and I think I, too, believed my happiness was in your hands, and
+that some day we would decide together it was so. But I lately-- [_She
+hesitates._
+
+DOUGLAS. Some one else?
+
+MARION. I don't like you one bit less, Douglas, only-- [_Rises._
+
+DOUGLAS. Only you liked some one else more! I was afraid so. I've
+heard whispers and guesses--
+
+MARION. Don't let it make any difference with _us_, Douglas!
+
+DOUGLAS. You love him?
+
+MARION. Yes.
+
+DOUGLAS. Very much?
+
+MARION. You see, every one is against him, and I feel that I have a
+chance to save him.
+
+DOUGLAS. You believe in him?
+
+MARION. [_Shortly._] Yes.
+
+DOUGLAS. Would you believe anything against him?
+
+MARION. [_On the defensive, indignant._] _No!_
+
+DOUGLAS. If some one told you of something dishonourable this man had
+done?
+
+MARION. I would suspect the motive of the person who told me. Do you
+think I haven't heard plenty of gossip against him? Every girl I know
+has done her best to take away his character, and _begged me to
+introduce him to her_ in the same breath.
+
+DOUGLAS. And if I spoke against him?
+
+MARION. [_Leaning on back of chair._] I know I couldn't help it, after
+what you have told me; I should have to feel you might be influenced
+by jealousy.
+
+DOUGLAS. To _unjustly_ accuse a man?
+
+MARION. Oh, Douglas, no, of course you would believe what you said,
+but I wouldn't trust your judgment. Don't I know every one is down on
+him. Even you men; are all the men in New York so proud of their past
+lives--not to mention the _present_ of several I know?--Well, if men
+turn a cold shoulder, then we women must give him our hands.
+
+DOUGLAS. You girls don't understand.
+
+MARION. Oh, girls understand a good deal nowadays. Society and some of
+the newspapers attend to that. He doesn't pretend to be a saint to
+me--I find him perfectly frank--and I am afraid he has been rather
+fast! But I don't believe he is capable of an outright dishonourable
+action, and nothing would make me believe it!
+
+DOUGLAS. No proof?
+
+MARION. Only the proof of my own eyes. When I see him do something
+contemptible, then I'll believe _half_ the stories I hear of him!
+[_Moving a little up centre._
+
+DOUGLAS. I see you _do_ love him.
+
+MARION. I do, though you are the only person I have confessed it
+to,--not even to him--and forgive me, [_Down a little._] but I never
+liked you less than I do now when you have spoken against him. [_Up to
+arch._
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Following her._] No, tell me you will forget it, and keep
+me the same old friend, and I'll promise not to speak against him to
+you again.
+
+MARION. [_Smiling._] Very well-- [_They shake hands._] Why, I want you
+two to be the best of friends--you _must_ be--
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Also smiling._] Oh, I don't promise that--I haven't given
+you up yet, and I sha'n't until--
+
+MARION. [_Smiling._] When--?
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Smiling._] Until I see you going into the church to be
+married.
+
+MARION. You'll say nothing more against Ned?
+
+DOUGLAS. Not to you. [_Moving down, right centre._
+
+MARION. Oh, but you will to others? [_Follows._
+
+DOUGLAS. I will say what I have to say to--_him._
+
+MARION. To _him?_
+
+    _Enter_ MRS. WOLTON _and_ FLETCHER. FLETCHER _is dressed in
+    dark sailor clothes._
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Marion, here's another little boy. [MARION _turns and
+greets_ FLETCHER, _going to him._ DOUGLAS _and_ FLETCHER _see each
+other and say_ "Good evening" _pleasantly._
+
+MARION. It's too bad you missed the vaudeville.
+
+FLETCHER. Did _you_ do anything. [MARION _laughs and exits with_
+FLETCHER.
+
+   DOUGLAS _turns around quickly, annoyed, to speak to_ MRS.
+   WOLTON, _but, in his quick turning and in his movement of
+   annoyance, keeping his eyes on_ MARION _and_ FLETCHER, _he has
+   struck glasses and a bottle on the little supper-table beside
+   them. They crash on the floor. He and_ MRS. WOLTON _both
+   start._
+
+DOUGLAS. Oh! Mrs. Wolton, forgive me; how clumsy! [_Starts to pick
+up._
+
+MRS. WOLTON. No, never mind. [_As_ SERVANT _enters_.] Here is
+Howes-- [_To_ SERVANT.] Howes, see to this, please, at once.
+
+SERVANT. Yes, m'm. Please, Mr. Dawson is here to see Mr. Wolton.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Mr. Dawson, my brother! Why, he's in Boston, Howes.
+
+SERVANT. Beg pardon, m'm, but he must have returned to-day. Most
+important, he says, m'm. Where shall I show him? The ladies and
+gentlemen are playing "Blind Man's Buff" in Mr. Wolton's room.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. This is the quietest place. Show Mr. Dawson in here.
+Where is Mr. Wolton?
+
+SERVANT. [_Trying not to smile._] He's blind-folded, m'm!
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_Smiling._] Tell him.
+
+SERVANT. Yes, m'm. [_Exits._
+
+DOUGLAS. Shall we join the game?
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Yes, come, I will take Mr. Wolton's place! I haven't
+played Blind Man's Buff for-- [_She calculates a moment, and then
+speaks amusedly._] Good gracious!--_never mind how many years_!!
+
+DOUGLAS. Oh, not so many as all that, I am sure! [_They go out at
+back._
+
+    _Enter_ SERVANT _with_ DAWSON _in cutaway coat and vest and
+    usual trousers._ SERVANT _at once begins to pick up the
+    debris made by_ DOUGLAS.
+
+DAWSON. What's going on here, Howes?
+
+SERVANT. A children's party, sir.
+
+DAWSON. A what?
+
+SERVANT. A children's party, sir.
+
+DAWSON. Who are the children?
+
+SERVANT. Mr. Wolton and Miss Wolton, sir, and her friends. Mr.
+Wolton's playing games now, sir, but he said he would join you in a
+minute.
+
+DAWSON. [_Out loud, involuntarily, but speaking to himself--very
+seriously, almost tragically._] Playing games! My God!
+
+SERVANT. Yes, sir--one don't know what rich folks'll do next, sir.
+_We're_ in hopes, in the kitchen, they'll take to pretending they're
+the servants, sir, and turn us loose in the ball-room. [_Smiling.
+Exits._
+
+DAWSON. [_Who hardly hears_ SERVANT.] Playing games, with ruin and
+disgrace staring him in the face. [_Enter_ MR. WOLTON.
+
+MR. WOLTON. [_Flushed and gay--an elderly man in knickerbockers and
+evening coat, a sort of English Court costume. The handkerchief, which
+was tied around his eyes in the game, has slipped, and lies about his
+neck._] Well, Fred, what's the good news?
+
+DAWSON. The worst there could be!
+
+MR. WOLTON. [_Half whispers._] What do you mean!!
+
+DAWSON. [_Dragging off the Blind Man's Buff handkerchief from_
+WOLTON'S _neck_.] What do you mean by going in for all this
+tomfoolery, to-night, with ruin and disgrace ready for you in the
+morning?
+
+MR. WOLTON. So soon--?
+
+DAWSON. How much longer did you think you could stave it off?
+
+MR. WOLTON. [_Sinks exhausted into a chair._] I didn't know.
+
+DAWSON. Why didn't you tell me your credit was as exhausted in Boston
+as here? [_Taking chair from table, and sitting right of_ WOLTON.
+
+MR. WOLTON. I thought, with you doing the negotiating, it mightn't be!
+
+DAWSON. Well, it is; do you hear me, you haven't any such thing as
+_credit there_ nor _here!_ nor anywhere, for aught I know! To-morrow
+is the last day of grace. Your sister-in-law has to pay this money?
+
+MR. WOLTON. Yes.
+
+DAWSON. What did you let her buy that house for?
+
+MR. WOLTON. [_Testily._] How could I help it! My brother didn't
+appoint me her guardian! He simply left her money in trust in my
+hands!
+
+DAWSON. "In trust in your hands!" [_Laughs cruelly._
+
+MR. WOLTON. Don't do that!
+
+DAWSON. And you speculated with it, and lost every cent!
+
+MR. WOLTON. Yes.
+
+DAWSON. What a scoundrel you are! [WOLTON _squirms miserably in his
+chair._ DAWSON _adds quietly_.] And yet I don't suppose there's at
+this moment a more popular man in New York, socially, than you.
+
+MR. WOLTON. No, I don't believe there is!--but a damned lot of good it
+does me!
+
+DAWSON. Will your sister-in-law accept her ruin quietly?
+
+MR. WOLTON. No, she's never liked me; she'll take pleasure in exposing
+me!
+
+DAWSON. But for your _wife_ and _child's_ sake!
+
+MR. WOLTON. You know very well she _hates them_! They have never taken
+her up; she wasn't possible, socially. [DAWSON _laughs again
+bitterly_.] _Don't_ do that!
+
+DAWSON. Well, then, after ruining yourself and your brother's wife,
+you must ruin your _own_!
+
+MR. WOLTON. [_Alarmed, uneasy_.] What do you mean?
+
+DAWSON. I mean that my sister's own money is enough to pay for your
+sister's silence. Don't you understand? Your sister mustn't know, of
+course, that you've stolen her fortune. Instead, your wife must be
+told,--poor Laura--and for her daughter's sake, she must consent to
+beggar herself. Her bonds will about meet the payment of the house
+to-morrow--they must be sold the first thing--I will see to it.----
+[_As he speaks, he is looking_ WOLTON _straight in the face. Something
+in_ WOLTON'S _face grows upon him with conviction as he speaks his
+last few words. He breaks off suddenly_.] What! you've taken hers,
+too! [_He leans over_ WOLTON _in the chair, his hands on his
+shoulders, close to his neck, in a rage. Rises._] You've beggared _my
+sister_, your wife and child! You-- [_Interrupted._
+
+MR. WOLTON. [_With a big effort, rises, throwing off_ DAWSON'S
+_hands_.] Sh!--For God's sake, lower your voice! You'll be heard!
+
+DAWSON. [_With a change of tone, but speaking with utter contempt_.]
+By a couple hundred fools! To-morrow _thousands_ will hear of your
+dirty dishonour!! [_Going toward right a little_.
+
+MR. WOLTON. [_To_ DAWSON.] But _you_, you have money--won't you come
+to my rescue?
+
+DAWSON. I couldn't if I would. You have borrowed half a fortune of me
+already. What I have left must go to take care of my sister and niece.
+Do you think I'd support _you_! No, the _State_ will do that.
+
+MR. WOLTON. That!! You'd let me go to--?
+
+DAWSON. You'll get twenty years at least!
+
+MR. WOLTON. You won't help me _escape_!
+
+DAWSON. No.
+
+MR. WOLTON. But Laura? she loves me, and Marion. _They_ will suffer
+for me; I may be weakly dishonourable, but I've always loved them, and
+they me. Besides, any public dishonour which comes to my name must
+touch theirs too.
+
+DAWSON. I'm not so sure about that--I think there is material for a
+divorce here.
+
+MR. WOLTON. A divorce! My God, must I lose everything! Show a little
+pity, Fred! Remember the old days at school; was I a bad boy? We were
+chums for years, you know it!--You were my best man when I married
+Laura, and you were the gayest at the wedding! It's only been this
+curse of gambling with the stocks that has driven me to the
+devil,--that and my cursed luck.
+
+DAWSON. _Luck_ has nothing to do with _honour_.
+
+MR. WOLTON. You don't know--oftener than you think, it has everything!
+[_Enter_ SERVANT.
+
+SERVANT. Supper is ready, sir. Can we have this room?
+
+DAWSON. Yes, Howes, I'm going!
+
+SERVANT. Thank you, sir. [_Exits._
+
+MR. WOLTON. Give me a word of hope, Fred!--something! What are you
+going to do?
+
+DAWSON. Nothing till to-morrow morning.
+
+MR. WOLTON. And that's all you have to say?
+
+DAWSON. All. [_The two men stand looking at each other a moment in a
+sort of grim embarrassment, then_ DAWSON _exits. Music. It must be
+evident to the audience, though not to the hysterically excited_
+WOLTON, _that_ DAWSON _has a little, a very little, pity, but doesn't
+wish to show it,--at any rate not yet_. WOLTON, _who has stood a
+moment lost in thought, an expression of despair in his face, shudders
+and comes to himself. He looks around to see that he is alone. He
+grasps his forehead tight a moment in his right hand, drops his hand,
+and with compressed lips nods his head determinedly. He is standing by
+one of the smaller supper-tables; he looks down at it and takes up a
+silver knife at one of the places, feels its dull edge, and throws it
+down sneering. A_ SERVANT _appears_.
+
+MR. WOLTON. Howes?
+
+SERVANT. [_Coming into the room and going to_ WOLTON.] Yes, sir.
+
+MR. WOLTON. I am going up to my room. [_With a motion of his head,
+indicating upstairs._] I am not feeling well. If my absence should be
+noticed, explain to Mrs. Wolton, but do not disturb me--do you
+understand?
+
+SERVANT. Yes, sir.
+
+MR. WOLTON. _On no account am I to be disturbed._ No one is to come to
+me until _after_ the party is entirely over. _Don't make any mistake
+about that._
+
+SERVANT. No, sir.
+
+   WOLTON, _who is half way between centre and door right, turns
+   for a moment, looking about the room. He is seized with a
+   nervous twitching of his muscles. He clenches his fists,
+   grinds his teeth to control himself, and, bowing his head,
+   goes from the room by door_. KITTY _and_ JOHNSTONE _appear in
+   ball-room doorway, at exit of_ WOLTON.
+
+KITTY. [_Looking into room on stage._] Here's a dear table, all by
+itself. [_Speaks as she appears in the doorway. The two turn and look
+off right at_ ETHEL _and_ FANSHAW _who are following them slowly_.
+
+JOHNSTONE. Come along, Fanshaw, here's a lovely, quiet table, where we
+can say just what we like about everybody! [_They stand in doorway a
+moment, looking off right, waiting for the other couple with their
+backs to_ WOLTON _and room_. ETHEL _and_ FANSHAW _join the first
+couple, and all come forward, speaking. The following speeches are
+made as they come forward to table_.
+
+JOHNSTONE. [_To_ FANSHAW _and_ ETHEL.] How you dawdle.
+
+ETHEL. Jack Wright tore my lace.
+
+FANSHAW. Trying to kiss her in Copenhagen. [_They are about the
+table._ JOHNSTONE _at once sits down first in the chair the_ SERVANT
+_was holding for one of the ladies_. SERVANT _then opens a bottle of
+champagne and pours in the glasses_.
+
+JOHNSTONE. [_Sitting._] Come on.
+
+KITTY. Look at him!
+
+ETHEL. What a rude little beast you are, Johnny!
+
+FANSHAW. Get up! [_Pushing him._
+
+JOHNSTONE. Well, you girls dawdle so! [KITTY _and_ ETHEL _sit. Enter_
+MRS. LORRIMER _from ball-room, dressed as a Watteau Shepherdess. She
+is greeted by a chorus of four. Carries lamb and crook._
+
+ETHEL, KITTY, JOHNSTONE, FANSHAW. Oh, look at Mrs. Lorrimer!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Pirouettes once around, and makes a bob curtsy._]
+Good evening. [_Laughing._] Well, I don't want to throw bouquets at
+myself, but I don't think it's bad.
+
+ETHEL _and_ KITTY. You're splendid!
+
+JOHNSTONE. Love---- [_Sits._]
+
+KITTY. Get Mrs. Lorrimer a chair. [_They all move to make more room
+for her, and_ FANSHAW _gets an extra chair from arch_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. I'm afraid I'm a fifth spoke in your wheel! [_She sits.
+A_ SERVANT _passes them bouillon which they take and eat._
+
+ETHEL. Don't be foolish; girls at a ball nowadays can't expect to have
+a man apiece. [JOHNSTONE _lights a cigarette and smokes. A_ SERVANT
+_in ball-room is seen taking away the bouillon cups, while a second
+passes Bouches a la Reine there._ FANSHAW _sits above_ ETHEL _left of
+table, after taking lamb and crook from_ MRS. LORRIMER _and placing
+them down left corner_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. How is the party?
+
+JOHNSTONE. Awfully lovely party!
+
+KITTY. A tearing success!
+
+ETHEL. You ought to have seen the vaudeville!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. How did your stunt go, Ethel?
+
+FANSHAW. Great.
+
+ETHEL. Oh, my dear, a brute of a flute player ruined it. I felt like
+thirty cents.
+
+FANSHAW. No one could spend much more money on a party than old Wolton
+is doing to-night.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Does Marion show her age in a child's dress?
+
+KITTY. She looks charmingly, but then Marion isn't so old.
+
+ETHEL. Perhaps not so old as she usually looks.
+
+JOHNSTONE. Aren't you a Kitty cat?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Why doesn't she paint a little?
+
+JOHNSTONE. What!
+
+KITTY. _Marion?_ Paint! Her _face_!
+
+ETHEL. My dear, she'd die first! [_All laugh, saying_ "Marion".
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Grandiloquently._] Not that I approve of painting!
+[_Music stops._
+
+ALL. [_Laughing._] Oh, no!
+
+ETHEL. Nor I!
+
+ALL. [_Laughing._] Oh, no!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Who's here?
+
+JOHNSTONE. Everybody.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Anyone I can marry?
+
+KITTY. Oh, Mrs. Lorrimer, do be decent. You haven't been divorced a
+year yet.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. My dear, divorce isn't like death--you don't have to go
+into mourning! Besides, that's what I want to get married for! I find
+I've a perfect passion for divorce! Just like men have it for drink.
+The more I get the more I want! [_Laugh._] I've only had two divorces,
+and I want another!
+
+JOHNSTONE. You must be damned careful--I beg your pardon--
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Oh, don't apologize, I say it myself!--careful about
+what?
+
+JOHNSTONE. What sort of _husband you choose_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Exactly! None of your _ideal_ men for me! I want a man
+with a bad record! [_Laugh._] Plenty of proof concealed about his
+person, or not buried too deep in his past for me and my lawyer to
+ferret out. I've a perfect duck of a lawyer! He made up every bit of
+evidence about my last husband; that won me my case, and, my dears, it
+just _happened_ to turn out to be true! [_Laugh._
+
+ETHEL. Speaking of records, who do you think is here to-night?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. _Ned_ Fletcher--!!
+
+KITTY. Yes.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Girls--I'll tell you a secret--
+
+JOHNSTONE. I don't want to hear it. [_Takes a chair left centre, sits
+and lights cigarette._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. I'm crazy about him! Where is he? [_Glancing over her
+shoulder._
+
+KITTY. You've no chance; he's going to marry Marion, if she'll have
+him.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. What a shame! And will she?
+
+ETHEL. She's mad about him!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. The moth and the flame! What a pity! because he'd be
+simply ideal for me! Why, do you know I hear that he-- [_Stops
+suddenly, looking at_ JOHNSTONE _and_ FANSHAW.
+
+JOHNSTONE. What do you hear? I'm in this.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. I forgot Johnny and Mr. Fanshaw--there are certain
+things you mustn't talk about before innocent little boys!
+
+FANSHAW. You couldn't tell _us anything about Ned Fletcher_!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Laughing._] I don't want to! But I thought Marion was
+always going to marry Douglas Rhodes.
+
+KITTY. Oh, that's all off now. It's Ned Fletcher or nothing with
+Marion.
+
+ETHEL. [_Laughing_.] I believe she thinks she's going to reform him!
+[_All laugh._
+
+KITTY. There's one thing, he isn't after Marion's money.
+
+ETHEL. Is he so rich?
+
+JOHNSTONE. Oh, rotten! [KITTY _slaps_ JOHNSTONE.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Very well, do you know what I shall do? I shall take
+Douglas.
+
+ETHEL. [_Hastily._] Yes, catch his heart on the rebound; they say it's
+easier that way!
+
+JOHNSTONE. That's one on you, Mrs. Lorrimer. [_Party gag._]
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Oh, I'm not so very old, and have had two splendid
+husbands already. I don't think I have to bother about the easiest
+way.
+
+JOHNSTONE. Philopene, Ethel? That's one on _you_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Has it been your method, my dear, because if so I can't
+congratulate you on the result. You must look out for a stronger
+rebound next time! Try a divorced man; I hear they come back with a
+terrific force! I'll be generous; try one of mine. [_All laugh. As
+they stop laughing there is the sound of something heavy falling in
+the room above. The chandelier trembles slightly, the lustres sound.
+All four lift their heads and listen a moment. A short pause._
+
+KITTY. What was that!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. The servants probably, upstairs! [_Enter_ MARION _from
+ball-room, smiling at the table of people as she passes_.
+
+JOHNSTONE. [_As she comes._] Here's Miss Wolton.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. My dear Marion, pardon me for not rising, but I assure
+you I look much better sitting down! [MARION _stops by_ MRS. LORRIMER.
+
+JOHNSTONE. Not at all, Mrs. Lorrimer, they're awfully lovely!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Well, I'm sure they don't compare with yours.
+
+JOHNSTONE. Oh, I don't know, there are others. [MARION _goes down
+centre_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Marion, is Mr. Dawson here?
+
+MARION. No, he's in Boston.--Why?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Oh, nothing, only he's an unmarried man, so I thought
+I'd ask. [SERVANT _in ball-room takes away plates, and second_ SERVANT
+_passes ices_.
+
+MARION. [_To_ MRS. LORRIMER.] Why are you so late, Emily? [_Back to_
+MRS. LORRIMER.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. My little girl was seedy, and I couldn't get away until
+I saw her asleep comfortably. It's an awful care for a young woman, my
+dear, having a _posthumous_ child!
+
+MARION. A what?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. A _posthumous_ child!
+
+MARION. [_Laughing._] _How do you mean, Emily?_
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Why, born after it's father's divorce!
+
+MARION. Are you girls going to have coffee?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. No.
+
+ETHEL. Nor I.
+
+MARION. Very well, then; join us for another game-- [_She makes a
+movement of starting._] Unless you men want to smoke. In that case,
+take your coffee in the library, where you'll find cigarettes and
+other smoking materials.
+
+JOHNSTONE. [_Who has a cigarette in his mouth, and has been smoking
+all through the supper._] I say! Oughtn't I to have smoked here?
+
+MARION. [_Smiling._] No! [_She starts to go out through ball-room._
+
+JOHNSTONE. I beg your pardon. Well, any way it's an awfully lovely
+party.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Marion, is it true you're going to be divorced--I mean
+married?
+
+MARION. [_By doorway._] Married? I hope so, some day. [_Smiling, exits
+into ball-room._ JOHNSTONE _is eating ice_. MRS. LORRIMER _crosses to
+him_. KITTY _in front of table_. ETHEL _takes up lamb_. FANSHAW
+_exits._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Haven't you finished your ice, Johnny?
+
+JOHNSTONE. No. I like to squash mine all up, and eat it soft.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Johnny, who made your bow?
+
+JOHNSTONE. Mother. [KITTY _drives_ JOHNNY _out of room by hitting him
+with her ball_. MRS. LORRIMER _crosses to_ ETHEL _and takes lamb_.
+
+ETHEL. [_Who has looked back over her shoulder into the ball-room,
+goes up to arch_.] Mr. Fletcher has joined Marion.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Oh, that's why Marion wished us to hurry! She wanted
+this room for herself and Fletcher!
+
+ETHEL. _Probably._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Let's go--as if we were gone for good, and then stroll
+back _casually_ in a few minutes, and see how we find them!
+
+KITTY. Isn't that eavesdropping?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Don't be absurd! There isn't any such thing as
+eavesdropping nowadays. Everybody listens to everything they can, and
+everyone more or less knows they're being listened to.
+
+KITTY. But what good will it do?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Why, if we--come back and catch them with his arm
+around her, we can take it for granted they are engaged.
+
+ETHEL. I don't think that follows. I'm sure if I were engaged to every
+man I let-- [_She stops quickly. All laugh._
+
+KITTY. [_Laughing._] You gave yourself away that time, Ethel! [_They
+move out by door into ball-room. As they do so_, SERVANT _enters from
+right, and_ MARION _enters, meeting girls and_ MRS. LORRIMER.
+
+MARION. Going to dance?--
+
+GIRLS. Yes.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. No, play games. Kissing games. [_All laugh and
+exeunt._
+
+MARION. Oh, Mrs. Lorrimer! [_Enter_ FLETCHER.
+
+FLETCHER. Why did you run away?
+
+MARION. I was afraid if I didn't the servants would never get this
+room ready.
+
+FLETCHER. Have you a partner?
+
+MARION. No.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Pleased to be with her and yet embarrassed._] May I--will
+you--that is--won't you dance with me?
+
+MARION. Yes.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Near her._] I wonder why I feel so diffident with you. I
+think I never was diffident before! [_Smiling._
+
+MARION. [_Smiling._] No, you haven't that reputation.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Smiling apologetically, but humourously._] Dear me, I hope
+you don't know what my reputation isn't--or _is_.
+
+MARION. [_Seriously._] I don't judge a man by his reputation.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Involuntarily half under his breath, humourously._] Thank
+heaven! [MARION _looks at him, hearing him. There is a pause. She
+waits willingly for him to speak, hoping he will._] I've been a very
+bad fellow.
+
+MARION. Some of the best men in the world have begun that way.
+
+FLETCHER. They probably had some one to help--to believe in them.
+
+MARION. And haven't you?
+
+FLETCHER. Will you believe in me enough to-- [_Looks off in ball-room
+up a little_; MARION _follows. He loses his control and speaks
+passionately._] Don't you understand,--I love you-- [_He embraces her;
+she allows him. The embrace lasts a moment._] You can be my salvation!
+Will you be?
+
+MARION. [_In his arms, looking up at him._] I will--if I can--
+
+FLETCHER. [_Whose eyes never quite look into_ MARION'S, _loosening the
+embrace._] You will marry me?
+
+MARION. Yes. [_Kisses him, then quickly moves down right._
+
+FLETCHER. [_Following her. Not looking at her._] People say I'm a
+blackguard!
+
+MARION. People say a great many things that aren't true. What can a
+man do with all the world against him! "People" can force him into
+being as bad as they say he is.
+
+FLETCHER. Then you won't believe them.
+
+MARION. No, not if you deny what they say. [_He holds out his hand;
+she takes it. At this moment_, MRS. LORRIMER _and_ ETHEL _appear in
+ball-room, ostentatiously counting the chairs and making small
+calculation about the cotillion, but really watching slyly_ MARION
+_and_ FLETCHER. MARION _sees it and speaks to_ FLETCHER _quickly under
+her breath._] Don't move! Don't drop my hand, but shake it as if we'd
+been making a bet, and follow my lead! [_Aloud._] It's settled then!
+You take my bet?
+
+FLETCHER. [_Shaking her hand and then dropping it casually._ A box of
+cigars, against a box of gloves! [_Sotto voce._] What is it?
+
+MARION [_Sotto voce._] Mrs. Lorrimer in the next room watching us.
+[_Speaks in low voce satirically to_ FLETCHER _as if she were speaking
+to_ MRS. LORRIMER.] Oh, no, Emily! I am going to marry Mr. Fletcher,
+but _I_ intend to be the one to announce that fact, and not you. [MRS.
+LORRIMER _and_ ETHEL _turn. They see_ MARION _and_ FLETCHER _and
+pretend surprise; they remain in the ball-room._]
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_With trumpet._] Oh! Marion! are _you_ here?
+
+MARION. Ahem! [_With a quick, amused side glance to_ FLETCHER.] We've
+been watching you for some time; what was the matter with the chairs?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER [_Embarrassed._] Nothing--we were merely choosing
+places!
+
+ETHEL. They lead from the other end, don't they? [_Joining_ FLETCHER.
+
+MARION. Yes, you know Kitty is leading for me. [_Enter_ DOUGLAS. _He
+joins them._] Who are you dancing with, Douglas?
+
+DOUGLAS. No one; I'm stagging it.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER You don't mean to say, Marion, you have more men than
+women to-night!
+
+MARION. [_With mock pride._] Who says I don't know how to give a
+party?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER [_To_ DOUGLAS.] Damn it! I wish I hadn't said I'd dance
+with little Johnny, or I'd come to your rescue. [DOUGLAS, _secretly
+amused, bows his thanks._ ETHEL _and_ MARION _exchange an amused
+glance._
+
+ETHEL. [_To_ MARION.] Douglas ought to give Johnny a vote of thanks.
+
+MARION. Come, they are taking their places. [_A movement of all to go
+off._ DOUGLAS _touches_ FLETCHER _on the arm._
+
+DOUGLAS. [_To_ FLETCHER.] May I speak to you just a moment?
+
+FLETCHER. Certainly-- [_All go but_ MARION.] Excuse me one moment,
+Miss Wolton,--Rhodes wants a word with me. [MARION _starts slightly,
+and, turning quickly, looks questioningly at_ DOUGLAS. _He answers her
+gaze seriously and unflinchingly. She turns to_ FLETCHER.
+
+MARION. [_To_ FLETCHER.] No--I won't excuse you. [_Assuming a more or
+less coquettish air._] You must come with me at once. [FLETCHER _looks
+surprised, but moves as if to obey her_.
+
+DOUGLAS. But why won't you trust Mr. Fletcher with me? [FLETCHER
+_laughs amused_.
+
+MARION. [_Nonplussed for a moment; then she changes her mind._] I was
+only jesting. [_To_ FLETCHER.] But you won't-- [_To_ DOUGLAS, _looking
+at him meaningly and seriously._] --keep us waiting long, will you? I
+warn you, Mr. Fletcher, I shall let them begin without us. [_Exits
+through ball-room as_ FLETCHER _quickly kisses her hand._ DOUGLAS
+_waits till they are quite alone._ FLETCHER _moves down right_.
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Following. Quietly._] Are you going to ask Miss Wolton to
+marry you?
+
+FLETCHER. I am not.
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Momentary surprise--doubt, then relief--a sigh._] In that
+case I've nothing more to say; let's join the others. [_Both make a
+move to go._
+
+FLETCHER. [_Who cannot resist saying it._] You see, Rhodes, I _have_
+asked her already.
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Stops and, turning, faces_ FLETCHER, _whose back is toward
+audience._]
+
+FLETCHER. [_Turning leisurely._] About fifteen minutes ago--but I
+can't see what business it is of yours.
+
+DOUGLAS. I love her.
+
+FLETCHER. That's no news to anybody!
+
+DOUGLAS. And I don't intend she shall marry a-- [_He stops. Short
+pause._
+
+FLETCHER. What? Why don't you finish?
+
+DOUGLAS. [_More quietly._] A man like you.
+
+FLETCHER. Oh, I'm not so very unique; lots of girls run the risk of
+marrying a man like me!
+
+DOUGLAS. I suppose you told her she is more to you than any one in the
+world.
+
+FLETCHER. No. "Men like me" don't talk that rot. I put my arms around
+her-- [_Stops, interrupted by the movement of_ DOUGLAS, _expressive of
+rage, controlled instantaneously; he clenches his fists. Finishes with
+a half-smile at_ DOUGLAS.] And told her I loved her.
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Suppressed anger._] You _couldn't_ say she was more than
+any one else to you, because it would have been a lie!
+
+FLETCHER. [_Smiling._] You flatter me. [_Crosses to left._
+
+DOUGLAS. The one that is _most_ to _you_ is YOUR CHILD. [FLETCHER
+_starts; is surprised_.] You can't deny the child--
+
+FLETCHER. I "can!" I can deny anything.
+
+DOUGLAS. The lie could be proved to your face. In May, 1893, at Lenox,
+a young kindergarten teacher,--you blackguard, you!
+
+FLETCHER. [_A little angry._] Who told you that story?
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Sneers._] I'm not the only man who knows it! That sort of
+thing never lies buried!
+
+FLETCHER. The girl's all right now!
+
+DOUGLAS. Oh, I know, you sent her abroad, and pay for the child. Well,
+that's the mother's lookout, and not mine. But I don't believe she's
+the only case. One has only to look at your life now.--It was
+fortunate for you this winter that Mrs. Clipton's divorce trial didn't
+come off.
+
+FLETCHER. [_A little more angry. Back to_ DOUGLAS.] Still, what has
+all this to do with you, and I'll deny it all besides, if I feel like
+it, or need to.
+
+DOUGLAS. You know you're not fit to marry Marion Wolton!
+
+FLETCHER. I know I love her.
+
+DOUGLAS. For how long?
+
+FLETCHER. I can't say, but neither can you.--And besides, _she loves
+me_!
+
+DOUGLAS. Would she if she knew you?
+
+FLETCHER. [_Smilingly._] Oh, come, Rhodes, drop it! I don't care a
+damn what I have done. I'm going to marry her! I haven't made any
+bones about myself. I've told her I've been a bad lot!
+
+DOUGLAS. Oh, yes, I know, you've confessed probably to having been
+"fast;" that nearly always appeals to a woman, heaven knows why; I
+suppose it's the instinct for reformation in them. But how much of
+your life does that word "fast" convey to a pure girl like Marion?
+
+FLETCHER. [_Smiling._] Quite enough! [_Serious._] But if she did know
+all there was to be known, Love forgives a great deal.
+
+DOUGLAS. But not _everything_. There are certain things Marion would
+never accept. She would refuse to take the place that was the right of
+another.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Down to him._] Oh, that's your point, is it! Well, hunt
+out Jeannette Gros if you can; it'll do you no good! [_Crosses._
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Follows quickly. Angry._] You can't prove that, because
+it's _not true_!
+
+FLETCHER. [_Facing_ DOUGLAS. _Angry too._] I'll prove she had other
+lovers before me. Good God, man, you don't know what Marion Wolton's
+love means to me! I've never loved like this before! Why, if it were
+possible for me to treat her as I have--the other, I _couldn't_. I
+want to marry Marion Wolton--I _want_ to make _her my wife!_ and I
+_will!_ I've had all there can be got out of my old life, and I'm sick
+of it. Here's my chance at a new life, and do you think I'm going to
+give it up? No! [_Forgetting and raising his voice._] Do you hear me,
+No!!
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Softly._] Not so loud!
+
+FLETCHER. [_Lowered voice._] No! I'll fight for it with my last
+breath.
+
+DOUGLAS. Then I say again, you're a blackguard!
+
+FLETCHER. [_Laughs, turns back to audience._] What do you want to do,
+fight? You know we can't here. I give you liberty to say to her all
+you can against me.
+
+DOUGLAS. She won't believe me.
+
+FLETCHER. Exactly--she loves me--
+
+DOUGLAS. But there is one other I can tell the truth to, who may
+believe me.
+
+FLETCHER. Look out you don't make yourself ridiculous, going
+about--the jilted lover, trying to take away the character of the
+accepted man! [_Leisurely following him a little._
+
+DOUGLAS. I don't have to do any "going about!" You are well enough
+known in our world to keep most of our doors closed against you. Few
+people are as blind as the Woltons, and I will open _his_ eyes!
+
+FLETCHER. You'll tell her father?
+
+DOUGLAS. He is the one person she would listen to, and he can verify
+what I say.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Change of tone, showing he fears this._] Damn it! I mean
+to be a decent man.
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Goes close to him and looks straight in his face._] Then go
+to Jeannette Gros and marry her!
+
+FLETCHER. [_Angry again._] Go to H--. [_Change of tone._] You think if
+I'm out of the way you'll get her?
+
+DOUGLAS. She's told me she doesn't love me, and she proved to me that
+she won't believe the truth of you without extraordinary proof. There
+is only one person in the world who could naturally interfere and give
+her anything like that proof, and that's her father; and I shall tell
+him to-night, before I leave this house, before you can announce your
+engagement!
+
+FLETCHER. With Miss Wolton's permission, I will announce our
+engagement to-night, in spite of you, and her father. [_Music stops.
+Enter_ MRS. LORRIMER, _with a favour, lamb and trumpet_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Oh, here you men are! If you think this is going to be
+allowed, you are very much mistaken! What do men think we ask them to
+parties for? Eh? Anyway, a cotillion is a leap-year dance; on such an
+occasion you are our natural prey! Come, sir! [_Pretending to blow
+trumpet._
+
+DOUGLAS. No. [_Smiling apologetically._] Postpone my pleasure till a
+little later in the evening, will you? Don't be angry with me; I want
+to have a few words with Mr. Wolton,--then I'll come and give _all_ my
+favours to you!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. That sounds attractive; I'll let you off. [_Makes lamby
+squeak. Smiling, turns to_ FLETCHER.] But I won't let you off.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Smiling._] _Don't_, please! I'm very happy to be your
+_consolation_ prize. [_Takes lamb. Music._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. I'm a dangerous woman to make that remark to. You'd
+better be careful, or I might take you literally at your word.
+
+FLETCHER. Oh, if you only would! [_Pulls lamb's head._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. What a charming speech. [_She and_ FLETCHER _go into
+ball-room and off._ FLETCHER _makes lamb squeak_. MRS. WOLTON, _her
+arms full of a set of gay favours, crosses the ball-room_; DOUGLAS
+_sees her and takes a step or two towards her, then waits till she has
+finished speaking to the girl_. MRS. WOLTON _turns, and_ DOUGLAS
+_addresses her_.
+
+DOUGLAS. Mrs. Wolton, is Mr. Wolton in the ball-room?
+
+MRS. WOLTON. No, I think he's in the smoking-room.--Aren't you going
+to dance? [_Coming into room._
+
+DOUGLAS. Not just yet--later-- [_Half bows apologetically. At the same
+moment, the music swells and the procession of dancers, in couples,
+dance in five or six couples into the front room, the line curving
+away to right to suggest that there are very many more couples in the
+ball-room out of sight. As they dance, they are laughing and
+talking--the first couple turns, the other couples making bridges
+under which the first couple goes, and passes into ball-room and off,
+followed by each couple the same. Music softens._ MRS. WOLTON _has
+drawn to one side, when the dancers came in. In this dance, scarfs are
+used by dancers._
+
+DOUGLAS. Mr. Wolton there?
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_Mildly surprised._] He?
+
+DOUGLAS. I want to see Mr. Wolton very much to-night--_now_. It is a
+matter of the greatest importance. [_Enter_ SERVANT _from ball-room._
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Where is Mr. Wolton, Howes?
+
+SERVANT. He has gone to his bedroom, m'm. [_Crosses behind_ MRS.
+WOLTON.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_Surprised, but not too much so._] What?
+
+SERVANT. He said he was on no account to be disturbed until the party
+was over.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_A little anxious._] Was he ill?
+
+SERVANT. He didn't appear so, m'm.
+
+DOUGLAS. [_To_ MRS. WOLTON.] Was he feeling ill to-night?
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_With a relieved voice, showing no anxiety._] No, not at
+all. He was in splendid spirits. Probably he was bored and thought he
+would be quieter upstairs.
+
+DOUGLAS. I don't want to be offensive, but I must, if possible, see
+him to-night.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_Speaking very casually._] Howes, you might go and say
+to Mr. Wolton, Mr. Rhodes wants to speak to him about something very
+urgent. [_To_ DOUGLAS.] If he doesn't want to come down stairs again,
+he can send for you to come up.
+
+SERVANT. Beg pardon, m'm, but he was so very strong with me that I
+shouldn't under any circumstances go to him, I don't quite like
+to-- [_He hesitates, embarrassed at having not to obey_ MRS. WOLTON'S
+_request at once._
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Really, he made such a point of it! Oh, very well then,
+you needn't go, Howes. [_With a nod of dismissal._ SERVANT _exits into
+ball-room and off_.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_Lowers her voice so that_ HOWES _sha'n't hear her, as
+he goes._] Mr. Wolton is rather hard on the servants if they fail to
+obey his orders to the letter. I'll go myself and see if he won't see
+you. [_Enter_ MARION _from ball-room, as her mother starts._
+
+MARION. Mother, where are you going with the favours?
+
+MRS. WOLTON. To your father for a moment.
+
+MARION. But you can't; we need them. [_Crosses. Music stops._] I'll go
+for you. [MRS. WOLTON _exits centre as_ MARION _exits right_. FANSHAW
+_appears from ball-room, enters_.
+
+FANSHAW. Come on, Rhodes, we need your help. [_Seizing_ DOUGLAS.
+
+DOUGLAS. How long will it take?
+
+FANSHAW. Oh, only a couple of minutes. [RHODES _and_ FANSHAW _exeunt,
+followed by_ MRS. WOLTON.
+
+TRIMMINS. [_Off stage._] Mrs. Lorrimer! Mrs. Lorrimer! [_Enters._] Oh,
+Mrs. Lorrimer, won't you dance through with me? [TRIMMINS _does this_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Do excuse me. [_Adds a little sotto voce and
+coaxingly._] And as a favour to me, go and take out poor Susie
+Woodruff. You know it's only "snap the whip" figure, so it won't make
+much difference to you if she is a bit heavy. [TRIMMINS _makes a bored
+grimace, and goes up stage_. MRS. LORRIMER _catches him_.] Yes, to
+please me! It isn't as if it were a waltz and you had to get her
+around all by yourself!
+
+TRIMMINS. [_Smiling._] Very well, to please you! But Susan Woodruff,
+she's the limit. [_Doubles up his arm and feels his muscles meaningly,
+and exits._ MARION _enters tragically. White, frightened, she staggers
+quickly into the room and, stopping for a second, gasps in a horrified
+whisper._
+
+MARION. Mother! [_Crosses to arch._] Mother!! [_Music, "Won't You Come
+And Play With Me." Singing heard._ MARION _turns, frightened, goes
+down. Her mother comes to her. They meet._
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_Frightened, puzzled._] What is it? What's the matter?
+
+MARION. [_For a moment, can't speak. She opens her lips, but the words
+refuse to come. Then she manages to gasp out:_] Father!
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Your father--what? [_Starts and looks at her
+questioningly, frightened, as the music swells, and is joined in by
+the voices of the dancers._
+
+MARION. He is dead!
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Dead!! [_She makes a movement towards door._ MARION
+_stops her_.
+
+MARION. It's too horrible!--he has killed himself-- [_Adds the latter
+in lower tone, almost fainting. The dancers appear in the ball-room,
+hand in hand in single file, led by_ FANSHAW, _and dance wildly
+in--all singing "Won't You Come And Play With Me." They make a big
+circle about_ MARION _and_ MRS. WOLTON, _dancing out through the
+ball-room, the music and singing becoming fainter as they disappear.
+The two women are left alone. Re-enter_ DOUGLAS _from ball-room._
+
+DOUGLAS. May I go up? [_He sees the condition of_ MRS. WOLTON _and the
+expression of_ MARION.] Is your mother ill?
+
+MARION. Help me take her to--my room--I will tell you. [_Dancers cross
+as they exit. Music changes to waltz. All go out._ MRS. LORRIMER, _on
+end, drops their hands._ MRS. WOLTON _and_ MARION _shudder as they go
+out_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Where is Mr. Rhodes?
+
+FANSHAW. He was here a moment ago. [_Enter_ SERVANT. _He has his
+overcoat on and carries his hat._ MRS. LORRIMER _turns_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Have you seen Mr. Rhodes?
+
+SERVANT. He is just coming, m'm.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Looking at_ SERVANT _and seeing something in his face
+and manner._ SERVANT _crosses hurriedly_.] Is there anything the
+matter? Where is Mrs. Wolton? [DOUGLAS _enters before_ SERVANT _can
+answer_. MRS. LORRIMER _at once turns to him, ignoring_ SERVANT, _who,
+on a run, bows slightly and exits_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_To_ DOUGLAS.] What's the matter?
+
+DOUGLAS. A most terrible thing has happened.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. What?
+
+DOUGLAS. You must help me to get rid of all the guests!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. To get rid-- [_Interrupted._
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Interrupting._] Mr. Wolton has committed suicide.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Starts and shudders; speaks very rapidly._] Mr.--how
+awful! What are you going to do? You can't tell the people now. What
+in the world did the man mean by not waiting till the party was over!
+If it isn't like you men! Your own comfort before anybody
+else's.--Well--the only thing is to pretend it hasn't happened at
+all--make some excuse for Marion and her mother--the guests needn't
+know anything about it,--and finish the party!
+
+DOUGLAS. Mrs. Lorrimer! Impossible!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. It would be sort of uncomfortable for us who know,
+[_She adds sincerely._] --and the poor Woltons, of course,--it is awful
+for them.
+
+DOUGLAS. I thought if you spoke to Fanshaw and stopped the cotillion
+and told a few of the guests-- [_Interrupted._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Aghast._] What! The truth?
+
+DOUGLAS. No, say Mr. Wolton has been taken suddenly and most
+dangerously ill--
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_To_ DOUGLAS.] Very well, I'll do what I can.
+
+DOUGLAS. Stop! [_Music stops._ DOUGLAS _goes to doorway into ball-room
+and draws the heavy portieres, shutting out the ball-room._ MARION
+_enters_.
+
+MARION. [_To_ DOUGLAS, _who stays at curtains._] They are going?
+
+DOUGLAS. Yes.
+
+MARION. They know?
+
+DOUGLAS. Not the truth!
+
+MARION. Thank you.
+
+DOUGLAS. Mrs. Lorrimer is arranging it. [FOOTMAN _off stage calls_
+"43." _The numbers are repeated in another voice and farther away. A
+moment's pause._
+
+DOUGLAS. I wish I could comfort you.
+
+MARION. [_Smiling strainedly at him._] Thank you. [FOOTMAN _calls_
+"56!--56!--89!" "32!--32!--61!" DOUGLAS _holds back the portiere into
+ball-room_.
+
+MARION. I'd better go back to mother. How good you are to us--believe
+me, I appreciate it all, Douglas, _all_. [_Enter_ DAWSON _hurriedly.
+Shows excitement and emotion. At the same moment enter_ FLETCHER _from
+ball-room at back. The two men speak the word_ "Marion" _at the same
+time, and turning, see each other._ DAWSON _also observes the presence
+of_ DOUGLAS.] Uncle Fred! [_Crosses to him._ FOOTMAN _calls_ "115!"]
+[_To_ DAWSON.] You know!
+
+FLETCHER. [_Gently, persuasively joining her._] Why didn't you send
+for me at once?
+
+DAWSON. Gentlemen, you will forgive me if I thank you both and say the
+guests are leaving. The family would like to be alone.
+
+DOUGLAS. I understand, but if I can be of any use?
+
+DAWSON. Thank you.
+
+DOUGLAS. Shall we go, Fletcher?
+
+FLETCHER. Good-night, Rhodes. [_Politely._] My place is here; it is my
+privilege to stay by Miss Wolton. [DAWSON _looks up, surprised_.
+RHODES _looks angry_. FLETCHER _continues, to_ MARION.] May I speak?
+[MARION _bows her head in assent_.] Mr. Dawson, your niece has
+promised to-night to be my wife. At such a terrible moment as this, I
+claim the right of membership of the family, to be with you and help
+all I can. You will accept my offices? [_Holding out his hand._
+
+DAWSON. [_Shaking his hand._] Certainly. You have won a wife in a
+thousand. But you may be called on to do more perhaps than you
+imagine.
+
+FLETCHER. I am entirely at your service.
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Near doorway back, to all. At curtains, leaves curtains
+open._] Good-night! [_All turn slightly._ DOUGLAS _bows and exits_.
+FLETCHER _going to_ MARION.
+
+DAWSON. [_Watching them._] Thank God! His money will save them!
+[SERVANT _enters; speaks softly to_ DAWSON.
+
+SERVANT. Mr. Dawson! [DAWSON _starts, nods to_ SERVANT, _who holds
+door open_.
+
+DAWSON. I'm coming. [_Slowly, seriously, meaningly._] Fletcher, I want
+a long talk with you to-night before you go.
+
+FLETCHER. Very well, sir. [DAWSON _sighs heavily and exits_. SERVANT
+_leaves door open. The two_, MARION _and_ FLETCHER, _hear the door
+shut behind them, and make a movement; they realize they are alone. A
+heavy front door slams. Lights out. There is silence. Taking_ MARION
+_in his arms._] My poor little girl!--My poor little girl!--Cry, for
+God's sake, cry!
+
+MARION. [_With an outburst._] Oh, it is so horrible! [_She sobs loud
+and hysterically in_ FLETCHER'S _arms, her own arms about his
+neck._]--so--horrible--
+
+
+CURTAIN.
+
+
+
+
+ACT II.
+
+
+    SCENE. _A church. At left are the steps leading to the
+    chancel and the chancel rails. Beyond the rails are palms,
+    grouped, which conceal the altar. Past the chancel, up stage,
+    is the exit into the choir. Down stage is the exit to the
+    vestry and robing-room. To right of centre begin the pews of
+    the church on each side of a broad centre aisle. The stage is
+    set a little diagonally so that the aisle runs from upper
+    right toward centre stage. This will make a row or two more
+    pews above the aisle than below it. White satin ribbons are
+    stretched above the aisle on each side, across the entrances
+    to the pews; this ribbon the ushers lift aside as they seat
+    the guests. The exit right is made by the centre aisle._
+
+    DISCOVERED. _Three ushers_, JOHNSTONE, FANSHAW _and_
+    TRIMMINS. JOHNSTONE _is sitting in the first pew_, FANSHAW
+    _standing outside and leaning over its front, talking to_
+    JOHNSTONE. TRIMMINS _is leaning with his back against the
+    side of the first pew across the aisle up stage. They are
+    dressed in long frock coats, with buttonholes of white
+    orchids. They are engaged in putting on white kid gloves._
+
+FANSHAW. Is Fletcher in the vestry yet?
+
+JOHNSTONE. Heavens, no! How long do you want him to hang around? But
+he won't be late; he's serious this time.
+
+TRIMMINS. I'm glad to hear it, because he's going to marry a splendid
+girl. [_A short pause._] I hope to goodness he really loves her.
+
+JOHNSTONE. Oh, he does, I'm sure. I'll bet you, if you like; will you
+put up a silk hat on it? [_Rises._
+
+FANSHAW. Yes, I'll take you!
+
+JOHNSTONE. All right. [_Exit from pew. Holding out his hand which_
+FANSHAW _takes, and they shake._] Done!
+
+FANSHAW. And I hope I'll lose. And if I were he, I'd tremble in my
+boots with a past like his, and the present getting so conspicuously
+favourable.
+
+JOHNSTONE. Oh, I don't believe in your boomerang pasts!
+
+FANSHAW. And I don't believe Fletcher can have one single memory of
+his own which he wouldn't rather forget since he has come to care for
+Marion Wolton. [_Crosses to pew._ JOHNSTONE _crosses_.
+
+TRIMMINS. Yes, but don't you think a fellow can sow his wild oats and
+be done with them, and become a good man and an honest citizen.
+
+FANSHAW. Of course I do, else, good Lord, where'd I be! We can't all
+be ideal chaps like Douglas Rhodes. But there are oats and _oats_, and
+Fletcher's are--oats!
+
+JOHNSTONE. Well, he's sorry for them. [_Crosses to pew. As_ DOUGLAS
+RHODES _enters_, TRIMMINS _exits._ RHODES _is also dressed as an usher
+and comes up the aisle in time to hear_ JOHNSTONE'S _speech, as he
+joins them._
+
+DOUGLAS. Who's sorry for what?
+
+JOHNSTONE. Fletcher for--for--for--everything!
+
+DOUGLAS. Hum-- [_He goes up left._
+
+FANSHAW. If he's _honestly_ sorry, he's no business marrying Marion
+Wolton.
+
+JOHNSTONE. Why not?
+
+FANSHAW. He has a debt to be paid. He can't wash his hands of the kind
+of things he's done; if he were in earnest in regretting his old life,
+he would do something to make up for it.
+
+JOHNSTONE. Well, isn't he? He's going to marry a nice girl and settle
+down.
+
+FANSHAW. If he were in earnest he'd marry, instead, one of at least
+two girls I know of--not this one.
+
+JOHNSTONE. Oh, come, there's no reason why he should do a quixotic
+thing like that, he has a future before him.
+
+FANSHAW. He has their futures before him.
+
+JOHNSTONE. Don't preach. Why should he be dragged down--
+
+FANSHAW. [_Interrupting._] To where he dragged them?
+
+JOHNSTONE. Exactly; Fletcher's no fool. And then there's Mr. Dawson.
+He swears by Fletcher now; they're regular pals.
+
+FANSHAW. Ever since Mr. Wolton's death. I don't understand it.
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Coming down left._] Yes, Dawson really believes in
+Fletcher--well, perhaps he's right. There must be some good in
+everybody, and perhaps Fletcher is just beginning to come to the top.
+Let's hope so.
+
+JOHNSTONE. Hang it, fellows, brace up anyway. This isn't a funeral,
+you know. Hello, there's the organ. [_Organ music begins, and
+selections appropriate and usual on such occasions continue
+uninterruptedly._] The people will be coming now. [_He exits._] _Two
+other ushers make a movement, throwing off a certain lazy, nonchalant
+manner, and getting themselves into more dignified readiness for their
+duties._
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Rises, crosses to left._] I tell you, Fanshaw, this is a
+hard day for me.
+
+FANSHAW. But I'm glad you decided to come. It would have made all
+sorts of gossip if you hadn't.
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Sighs._] Yes. Anyway, as it's got to be now, we must all
+make the best of it.
+
+FANSHAW. No one besides me dreams your life is still wrapped up in
+Marion Wolton.
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Embarrassed, but pleasantly. With a half laugh._] And I
+suppose that ought to be some consolation, but I don't know as it is.
+However, I shall never be able to thank you enough for the comfort
+you've been. A man must have some one to talk to. And it isn't every
+fellow who can have a friend like you.
+
+FANSHAW. [_Embarrassed, but pleased._] Shut up! Here's Fletcher's
+mother; she came on from Richmond yesterday. [_He goes down aisle to
+meet her._] And behind are those girls they want put into the front
+pews. [FANSHAW _and_ DOUGLAS _exeunt. At the same moment that the two
+disappear_, MRS. FLETCHER _appears on the arm of the third usher_,
+TRIMMINS.
+
+MRS. FLETCHER. [_To_ TRIMMINS, _as he shows her into the first pew
+left._] You know Mrs. Wolton, of course?
+
+TRIMMINS. The bride's mother? [_Bows in affirmative._
+
+MRS. FLETCHER. When she comes, won't you show her in here with me,
+please? [TRIMMINS _bows and exits_. MRS. FLETCHER _sits, then kneels a
+moment, and then reseats herself with a touch to the trimming of the
+waist of her gown somewhere. Enter_ FANSHAW _with_ MRS. LORRIMER,
+JOHNSTONE _with_ KITTY, _and_ TRIMMINS _with_ ETHEL; _ladies outside.
+Ushers exeunt as soon as guests are seated._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_On being shown into the first pew down stage._] Is
+this the farthest front you can seat us? [_In a dissatisfied tone._
+
+FANSHAW. [_Goes off right._] This is the _front_ pew.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Laughing._] Of course, so it is. How silly of me!
+[_She passes to the end of the pew nearest to the audience._
+
+KITTY. [_As she follows into the pew, to_ JOHNSTONE.] Are we late?
+
+JOHNSTONE. [_Off left._] No, you're awfully early. [TRIMMINS _off
+right_.
+
+ETHEL. [_Following into pew._] Oh, I say, girls. Isn't that a shame,
+we're early. [_The three women are standing in the pew; they all turn
+around to glance back into the church, which is supposed to be filling
+with guests, every once in a while some one being seated by an usher
+in one of the pews visible to the audience. After a glance round, the
+three sit down._] What do you think of Douglas Rhodes being an usher?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Oh, my dear, it doesn't take these men long to get over
+a hopeless passion!
+
+KITTY. If he is over it.
+
+GERTRUDE. Of course he's over it, or he wouldn't be here, would he?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Every time I've tried to make love to him, he has
+seemed to me awfully in love with her still. [_Laugh. Enter guests._
+
+KITTY. I was wondering this morning where in the world Marion met Mr.
+Fletcher?
+
+ETHEL. Perhaps it was at that Christian thing-a-may-gig she's
+interested in.
+
+KITTY. You mean the Young Men's Christian Association?
+
+ETHEL. Yes, I'd bet on it's being the Young Men's. [_Laughs._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Oh, my dear, you know he isn't that sort of a man at
+all. He's much more my style!
+
+KITTY. Well, you know none of us ever met him till he began to go to
+the Woltons. [_Enter ushers and guests. A new selection is started on
+the organ and all half rise and turn, but turn back again at once into
+their places complacently._
+
+ETHEL. I think Marion's been getting to be a perfect stick anyway,
+these last few years, with all the plain covered books she reads and
+all her "university settlement" stuff in the slums, and her
+working-girls' clubs and things. But that makes it all the funnier for
+her to marry a man she's really not known very long, don't you think
+so?
+
+GERTRUDE. Where did he come from anyway?
+
+ETHEL. Everywhere--which you know is as good as nowhere. He's that
+sort of a man.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Oh, no, his family comes from Virginia. And he's a
+Harvard man. [_Enter_ TRIMMINS _with guest to pew._] Was in the
+fastest set there, so he must have some position! [_Laughs._
+
+ETHEL. And he's rich.
+
+KITTY. But Marion wouldn't marry for money.
+
+ETHEL. Then why is she marrying him?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. I don't know. I think she must be in love with him.
+
+ETHEL. [_With a laugh._] Ha! And then everyone says she's so sensible!
+[_Door slams. Another different selection is started on the organ and
+a door is shut off stage. The three women all half rise and turn
+again._
+
+KITTY. Here they come!
+
+GERTRUDE. No, not yet. [_The three sit again with a murmur of
+disappointment._
+
+GERTRUDE. Well. I only hope Marion will be happy,--she's taught so
+many others how to enjoy the best of life.
+
+ETHEL. I don't see how you can sympathize with her in her
+philanthropic fads! I believe in being charitable, but there's a right
+and a wrong way!
+
+KITTY. [_Quietly._] Yes, I don't suppose there's a fashionable
+subscription list in town that hasn't your name on it.
+
+ETHEL. _Not one!_ And as near the top as I can get.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Leaning over to speak to_ ETHEL.] I agree with you! I
+went down to one of Marion's working women's evening meetings--and,
+really, I was bored to death.
+
+ETHEL. Isn't the church trimmed horribly; looks as if they did it
+themselves. It would be just like Marion to have some silly sentiment
+about it. [_Organ stops._
+
+KITTY. [_Strongly._] I like Marion for her sentiment. I only hope she
+isn't marrying Fletcher because of it, in the hope that she will make
+his life, and perhaps have to spoil her own.
+
+BLANCHE. [_Leaning over and speaking to the three women in front._]
+Doesn't the church look lovely!
+
+ETHEL. [_Who said it looked horridly._] Perfectly lovely!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Girls, who is that doddy looking creature?
+
+ALL. [_Turning and looking back into the church._] Where?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. On the left-hand side of the aisle with a last winter's
+coat, don't you see, with the huge sleeves!
+
+ETHEL. Oh, yes, with the cheap fur trimming and the mangy muff--who is
+it?
+
+BLANCHE. Oh, that! It's one of the groom's country relatives.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. She looks it. The kind that gets cards _only_ to the
+church. [_All laugh. They rise again, excitedly, showing an increase
+of excitement over the first time they rose, and looking back._
+
+ETHEL. Are they coming?
+
+BLANCHE. No-- [_General murmur of disappointment._] It's the bride's
+mother. [_All sit again._ MRS. WOLTON _enters on the arm of_ DOUGLAS.
+_She is very handsomely dressed in black velvet and white lace. She is
+shown into the pew with_ MRS. FLETCHER. _They exchange greetings._
+DOUGLAS _exits, at the same time the_ CLERGYMAN _enters behind the
+chancel rail and goes back behind the palms, &c. Meanwhile the
+following dialogue is taking place._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Leaning over._] You mean how it doesn't.
+
+KITTY. [_Half turning to look back._] Susie Printly's Baltimore cousin
+has just come in--do you think she's a beauty?
+
+ETHEL. You mean that _awfully_ blonde girl.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Laughingly._] Yes, that's she. Fifty cents the small
+bottle, seventy-five the larger size! [_All three laugh. Short pause._
+
+ETHEL. I suppose you've heard she's engaged?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. No, to whom?
+
+ETHEL. Oh, only an American. [_Pause._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Weddings always give me a homesick feeling. I like them
+so.
+
+KITTY. Well, you've had your share of them, you know.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Not at all. I've only been married _twice_. Do you know
+who I have my eyes on now?
+
+KITTY. No, who is it?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. _Mr. Dawson!_
+
+ETHEL. What?
+
+KITTY. You're serious ... to marry him.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Yes! Everyone will tell you he's one of the best men in
+the world.
+
+ETHEL. But my dear, that's a change for you! How'll you ever get him
+into the divorce court?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Nonsense! I don't want to. Haven't you heard ... my
+house in Dakota's for sale. I don't belong to the Divorce Club any
+more ... the membership is getting entirely too mixed! [_They look
+back into the church at the people._ MRS. WOLTON _leans over to_ MRS.
+FLETCHER.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. I am so nervous I could almost cry out! Oh, I shall be so
+relieved ... really, I can't tell you ... when the ceremony's over.
+[_Organ. Wedding march._ FLETCHER _and his groomsman enter in front of
+the chancel rails. Guests all rise, showing excitement and turning
+half-way face off the stage, looking down the centre aisle._ MRS.
+WOLTON _and_ MRS. FLETCHER _stand facing the altar._ MRS. FLETCHER
+_takes_ MRS. WOLTON'S _arm affectionately and holds it tight in
+friendly sympathy. The faint sound is heard of boys' and men's voices
+singing with the organ the wedding hymn. All watch off the stage, as
+if following the slow movement of a procession coming up the aisle.
+Meanwhile the following dialogue occurs._
+
+ETHEL. The Trimmins boys are the second ushers.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Which is the one you were engaged to?
+
+ETHEL. I forget, I've flirted with them both so long, but I think it's
+the right hand one! [_The head of the wedding procession appears. The
+choristers singing, followed by the six ushers_, DOUGLAS _and_ FANSHAW
+_leading, followed by four bridesmaids. The bride enters, leaning on
+the arm of_ MR. DAWSON; _the choristers exit, and continue singing off
+stage softly until time indicated for them to stop. The bridesmaids
+and ushers take their places, grouped properly about the chancel
+steps._ MARION _stands at the centre of chancel rail, where she is
+joined by_ FLETCHER, _the groomsmen standing to one side of him._
+DAWSON _stands on the opposite side of_ MARION. _The_ CLERGYMAN _has
+come forward and stands facing them on the other side of the chancel
+railing. The guests open their prayer-books with a flutter of the
+leaves._ MARION _gives bouquet to_ DAWSON. _Music stops for a
+moment._]
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Look! do you see how charming Mr. Dawson appears by the
+chancel rails. I never saw him in a more becoming place, and if it's a
+_possible_ thing I shall make a rendezvous to _meet_ him there one
+day! [_Music begins again softly, and accompanies the service. At
+first it is heard quite distinctly while the_ CLERGYMAN _is going
+through, unheard, the first part of the marriage ceremony. A short
+pause in the dialogue._
+
+ETHEL. [_Whispers to_ KITTY _and_ MRS. LORRIMER.] How composed she is.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Whispering back._] One would think she was a widow! I
+couldn't do better myself! [_A short pause in the dialogue._ CLERGYMAN
+_looks up and raises his voice a little, addressing the congregation
+in the church ... but not too loud so as to be too evident._
+
+CLERGYMAN. "If any man ... [_A door is shut heavily off stage. At
+sound of door slam_, DOUGLAS _exits and returns after_ JEANNETTE'S
+_entrance, going directly to_ MRS. WOLTON, _who seems overcome._] can
+show just cause why these two persons should not lawfully be joined
+together ... [_A commotion among the guests, who turn away from the
+altar, to look back into the church._] ... let him now speak. [DOUGLAS
+_goes top of aisle, to block the passage._] or else hereafter forever
+hold his peace...."
+
+JEANNETTE _enters, going to the foot of the chancel steps, cries_
+"Stop!" _She is a young and attractive looking woman, fashionably, but
+quietly dressed. All in the church are stunned. The groom, turning,
+sees her, and starts, but controls himself, glaring at_ JEANNETTE.
+MARION _gazes in terror and horror at her; her bouquet drops unnoticed
+by her_. MRS. WOLTON _starts to leave her pew, but is held back and
+persuaded by MRS. FLETCHER to remain quietly where she is._ MR. DAWSON
+_steps down one step toward_ JEANNETTE.
+
+DAWSON. [_To_ JEANNETTE.] Who are you?
+
+JEANNETTE. [_With a gesture toward_ FLETCHER.] _Ask him!_
+
+DAWSON. What right have you to interrupt this ceremony?
+
+JEANNETTE. [_With a gesture as before._] _Ask him!_
+
+FLETCHER. She has no right! [JEANNETTE _makes an exclamation of denial
+aloud_.
+
+MARION. Swear that, Ned, swear it to me before this altar.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Hesitates a moment._] I swear it.
+
+MARION. [_To_ CLERGYMAN.] Go on with the ceremony. [DAWSON _steps back
+to his place. The_ CLERGYMAN _takes up his prayer-book._ JEANNETTE
+_comes up one of the chancel steps_.
+
+JEANNETTE. Stop!
+
+FLETCHER. Is there no one here to put this woman out? [_He speaks to
+the groomsman._ DAWSON _speaks to_ FANSHAW, _who exits, and
+immediately after the music ceases. Meanwhile the following dialogue._
+
+KITTY. Isn't this perfectly awful! I'm going! [_Going._
+
+ETHEL. I'm not. I'm going to stay.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. There may be something we can do. [KITTY _and_ GERTRUDE
+_exeunt with several of the other guests._
+
+CLERGYMAN. [_To_ JEANNETTE.] Can you show any reason why this marriage
+should not ... [_Interrupted._
+
+JEANNETTE. [_Interrupting._] I can.
+
+CLERGYMAN. Then do so.
+
+JEANNETTE. I will. [_She exits quickly._ MRS. WOLTON _goes to the two
+bridesmaids up stage, who at the same time are joined by the two
+bridesmaids down stage. Guests go out._
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_As she goes._] Henry! [DAWSON _joins them._] Take them
+into the choir-rooms, please. [_She motions off stage._ DAWSON _with
+bouquet exits. Maids exeunt. As they go_, MRS. WOLTON _and_ DOUGLAS
+_meet and speak. The_ CLERGYMAN _has been speaking to_ MARION. _Ushers
+urge guests to leave and exeunt with guests after_ JEANNETTE
+_returns._
+
+FLETCHER. [_To_ CLERGYMAN.] I say that woman _cannot stop_ this
+ceremony. Go on!
+
+MARION. [_To_ CLERGYMAN.] You heard him give me his word ... go on.
+
+CLERGYMAN. I am very sorry, but the church does not allow me to. I
+must give her the chance to prove herself. [FLETCHER _speaks to his
+groomsman_, JOHNSTONE, _who exits into vestry. At the same time_
+JEANNETTE _re-enters, bringing by the hand a small child_, EDWARD,
+_with her. She leads him straight to the foot of the chancel steps,
+and, pointing to_ FLETCHER, _speaks. All through the rest of this
+scene, the child keeps hold of the skirts of the mother ... standing
+close to her side._
+
+JEANNETTE. This is that man's child ... and mine. [MRS. LORRIMER
+_exits; also_ ETHEL. _Re-enter_ DAWSON _without bouquet._ FLETCHER
+_speaks to the_ CLERGYMAN. MRS. FLETCHER _leaves the pew and joins_
+MRS. WOLTON. DOUGLAS _joins_ MRS. LORRIMER, _and all the guests and
+ushers leave the church quietly._ MARION _starts to go to_ MRS.
+WOLTON.
+
+MARION. Mother!
+
+JEANNETTE. [_Turning and facing_ MARION.] Ah!... you go to _her_, in
+what must be the greatest sorrow of your life ... well, so will he ...
+[_With her arms around the child._] come to me when he begins to
+understand, and _that's_ why I am here.
+
+FLETCHER. [_To_ CLERGYMAN.] Ask her for proofs! She won't have them!
+It is a question of her word or mine, and surely there can be no such
+question, when the woman is that sort of thing! [_Turns to_ MARION.]
+Marion! [_The_ CLERGYMAN _goes to_ JEANNETTE, _up stage, with whom he
+talks._ MARION _joins_ FLETCHER, _and they come down the steps, but
+she does not look at him._ MRS. WOLTON _starts to go to_ MARION.
+FLETCHER _stops her._
+
+FLETCHER. [_To_ MRS. WOLTON.] No. I wish to speak to Marion alone.
+[MRS. WOLTON _and_ MRS. FLETCHER _speak together up stage._ MRS.
+WOLTON, _turning back, faints._ DAWSON _and_ MRS. FLETCHER _take her
+out._
+
+FLETCHER. [_To_ MARION.] Do you despise me?
+
+MARION. I can't ... I love you.
+
+FLETCHER. I didn't deceive you, did I? You will remember I confessed
+that before we met my life had not been fit to be lived in the same
+world with you.
+
+MARION. I know, but I didn't imagine anything so bad as this.
+
+FLETCHER. Yes, I realize that now, as it is only since I have known
+you that I have realized how low I was. Yet, Marion, this sort of
+thing exists all around us; I am not the only one ... [_Interrupted._
+
+MARION. [_Interrupting._] _Don't_--don't try to excuse it.
+
+FLETCHER. At any rate ... it was before I knew you.
+
+MARION. [_Looking up in his face for the first time, slowly._] Since
+you've known me have you been good and honest?
+
+FLETCHER. [_Without any hesitation, looks back at her, honestly._]
+Yes. [_They hold this position for a moment._ CLERGYMAN _leaves_
+JEANNETTE. _She speaks after him, following._
+
+JEANNETTE. This is not _legal_ proof, you say?
+
+CLERGYMAN. It is not sufficient.
+
+JEANNETTE. But it's moral proof. [MARION _turns and goes back to her
+place ... motions_ FLETCHER _to follow. He does so but almost
+timidly._ CLERGYMAN _turns from_ JEANNETTE.] Listen! So long as he
+remains as he is, there's a chance that the world won't always be able
+to fling my boy's shame in his face. And I tell you, sir, the agony
+she would suffer now is nothing ... _nothing_ to what her life with
+him would be. And think what it is to ... [_Her emotion racks her._]
+watch your child, your own flesh and blood, day and night, all its
+life, terror-stricken ... [_She controls her emotions._] lest you find
+some trace of his father in him!
+
+MARION. [_Turns to_ CLERGYMAN.] We are waiting.
+
+CLERGYMAN. But ... [_Interrupted._
+
+MARION. [_Interrupting._] I love him; I am not willing to give him up
+for that woman!
+
+CLERGYMAN. But she swears a compact of marriage was made.
+
+MARION. Has she proofs? [FLETCHER _glares at_ JEANNETTE; _his muscles
+grow rigid_.
+
+CLERGYMAN. _No._ [FLETCHER _relaxes_.
+
+MARION. Very well,--I have his word against hers,--that is enough.
+
+CLERGYMAN. [_To_ FLETCHER.] But I believe you do not deny the child?
+
+FLETCHER. [_Tentatively._] Yes ... yes, I _do_ deny it.
+
+MARION. [_Quickly._] This man's past, sir, is not yours, nor mine. But
+his present does belong to me, and his future shall be mine too, to
+_make_, not _hers to mar_.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Impatient._] Come! We've lost enough time, let's finish
+this. [CLERGYMAN _goes to his proper place behind the chancel rails_.
+
+JEANNETTE. [_Coming up one of the chancel steps._] You shall not go on
+with this marriage.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Half angry._] She has shown what she is by the way she has
+chosen to stop it.
+
+JEANNETTE. That's a cowardly lie! And it was only when I saw by the
+papers that my letters had been useless that I decided to humiliate
+myself in this way. Do you think I would so degrade my womanhood for
+the sake of anything on God's earth, but _one_ ... my child? [_To_
+MARION.] Do you think I could do anything but loathe _him_!... [_With
+a gesture toward_ FLETCHER.
+
+MARION. But I love him.
+
+JEANNETTE. So did I _once_. And now I'd save you if I could from all I
+know you'll have to suffer. Once you're his, he'll tire of you....
+
+MARION. [_Interrupting._] You forget one thing ... he is going to
+place a wedding-ring on my hand.
+
+JEANNETTE. Well, look at that! [_She rips her glove off violently, and
+shows a wedding-ring._] He placed it there! and said he'd take me to a
+church and make our compact binding.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Who has started, frightened, at first, has controlled
+himself and speaks with intense quiet._] This woman's from the
+streets. She's up to all the tricks.
+
+JEANNETTE. [_Outraged._] How dare you! I am not what he calls me! I
+swear that here in this holy place. _He_ dragged me through the
+streets, and any dirt upon my skirts _his_ feet have left there.
+
+FLETCHER. Be silent. [_To_ CLERGYMAN.] If you will not finish the
+service, we will find some one who will.
+
+MARION. [_To_ CLERGYMAN.] No, I will not leave here till we are
+married. I will not insult the man I have chosen for my husband by
+doubting his word for hers. I won't believe he made her what she is.
+
+FLETCHER. Marion!
+
+MARION. Ned! [_To_ CLERGYMAN.] Go on! Go on with the ceremony!
+
+JEANNETTE. You shall not go on! He's done his best to make me what he
+says I am ... and God knows he might have succeeded ... [_Emotion._]
+but for my boy's sake I fought the fight for honour ... [_Completely
+controlling her emotion._] The day he tricked me ... [_With a look of
+scorn at_ FLETCHER.] I stood before him as pure a woman as you stand
+now, and since he left me, there has never been an hour when I
+couldn't look straight into my child's eyes, not one minute I couldn't
+feel his two arms about my neck without a shudder.
+
+FLETCHER. [_More angry._] I won't stand this!
+
+JEANNETTE. [_To_ MARION, _continuing in the same key and tone as her
+former speech ... and pleadingly._] _Don't_ make vows that will take
+away this innocent boy's name.
+
+MARION. You must answer to your child for his name and honour.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Enraged, to_ JEANNETTE.] If you don't go now I'll ...
+[_Stops himself._
+
+JEANNETTE. Before God, yours, [_To_ MARION.] mine, ... [_Clasping her
+hands on her breast._] and _his_ God [_With a look of scornful warning
+at_ FLETCHER.], that man is _his_ father, and _my_ husband.
+
+FLETCHER. [_In a fearful rage._] You lie! [_Enter_ MRS. WOLTON _and_
+MRS. FLETCHER.
+
+MARION. [_Surprised ... pained._] Sh-h ... go on.
+
+JEANNETTE. [_Coming between_ MARION _and_ FLETCHER, _she cries out ...
+a wild, heart-broken, desperate cry._] No! you shall not write Bastard
+on the forehead of _my child_!
+
+FLETCHER. [_Beside himself._] By God! [_He strikes_ JEANNETTE _a blow
+... which sounds...._ MARION _cries out and recoils. The two mothers
+step forward with exclamations of fright and anger._ DAWSON _comes
+from the choir, brought by the sound of the cry, and goes to_ MARION.
+JEANNETTE _falls when struck. The child clings with both arms about
+its mother's waist._
+
+MARION. [_After a moment, drawing in a long breath, to_ FLETCHER.]
+Coward! [_Her uncle takes a step forward to her ... he carries her
+wedding bouquet. She seizes it from him and dashes it at the feet of_
+FLETCHER, _and then, throwing back her head with an expression of
+scorn, turns from him, takes the arm of her uncle with determination,
+and goes down the chancel steps out of the church._ FLETCHER _stands
+crestfallen._ MRS. WOLTON _and_ MRS. FLETCHER _look at each other,
+horrified, speechless._
+
+CURTAIN.
+
+
+
+
+ACT III.
+
+    SCENE. _The library at the_ WOLTONS. _A handsomely and
+    luxuriously furnished room, somewhat disarranged by the
+    preparations for the wedding. It is here that the wedding
+    presents are displayed; along the two sides and partly across
+    the end are placed long and narrow improvised tables,
+    covered with all sorts of gifts--silver, glass, &c. &c. There
+    are five piano lamps grouped together at the upper corner of
+    table. There are faded flowers about._
+
+    TIME. _The following day._
+
+    DISCOVERED. MRS. LORRIMER _at left of table, a maid and man
+    servant are busy wrapping up and addressing some of the
+    wedding presents._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Who has just finished writing an address on a
+parcel._] This is one to go by express, Howes.
+
+SERVANT. [_Taking it._] Yes, m'm. [_Placing it to one side where are
+others tied up and addressed._] Beg pardon, m'm, but it's a great pity
+Miss Marion should lose a husband and all the wedding presents as
+well.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Oh, it isn't always a pity, Howes, to lose a
+husband--it's very often a very good thing. [MAID _gives_ MRS.
+LORRIMER _another parcel to address, which she does--copying from a
+card which the maid gives her with the parcel. Maid exits._
+
+SERVANT. [_Giving_ MRS. LORRIMER _a visiting card._] This is the
+address, m'm--still, if you'll excuse me for saying so, Mrs.
+Lorrimer--if it was me, I'd keep the presents just by way of a kind of
+consolation. [_She and the_ SERVANT _tie up another box._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Addressing._] Ah, but you see their associations
+would be painful. I have had two husbands and I have each time moved
+out of the house I occupied with each on the day after losing him.
+
+SERVANT. You know what trouble is, m'm, to have lost two husbands.
+Grippe, m'm? [_Giving her another parcel._ HOWES _to table up stage._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Not exactly. Another kind of epidemic. The law, Howes.
+[HOWES _gives parcel._ MRS. LORRIMER _addresses it from a visiting
+card. Enter_ MAID _with_ ETHEL _and_ FANSHAW.
+
+MAID. I will tell Miss Wolton. [_Exit._ FANSHAW, ETHEL _and_ MRS.
+LORRIMER _greet each other._
+
+FANSHAW. How do you do? [_Shakes hands._ MRS. LORRIMER _motions with
+her head a dismissal to the_ SERVANT, _and he gets boxes and goes
+out._
+
+ETHEL. [_Goes to sofa and sits._] Do you think Marion will see us?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. I don't know, I'm sure. She is with her mother.
+
+ETHEL. You don't mean--
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Yes, but she isn't a bit like she was yesterday. She's
+crying like a child, poor thing,--what she's gone through!
+
+FANSHAW. Have you seen the papers? [_Has large bundle of them._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. No.
+
+FANSHAW. It's in all of them, and some have big pictures.
+
+ETHEL. Yes, my dear, with all of us in. Marion in a low-necked dress.
+You're a sight, but my picture's rather good.
+
+FANSHAW. [_Who has gotten papers from coat-tail pocket._] Perhaps
+you'd like to see them.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. No, no; put them away quick. I'll see them home. I take
+every blessed paper. [FANSHAW _up to table where he puts hat and
+papers_.
+
+ETHEL. What are you doing--sending back wedding presents? [_Crosses._
+
+FANSHAW. Oh, I say, is that necessary?
+
+ETHEL. I don't believe I would; there are lots of things she's been
+dying to have.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. My dear Ethel!
+
+FANSHAW. Yes, why couldn't she--er--forget--er--overlook--er--any old
+thing with some of them--I mean those she wants? [_Turns up, looking
+at presents on table._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Well, there are some things I should think she'd be
+glad to send back. After all, twelve dozen oyster forks are too many
+for a small family like a newly married couple.
+
+ETHEL. How many sugar spoons did she get?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Thirteen, which to say the least, is an unlucky
+number ... [_Rises, puts arm about_ ETHEL _and comes left._] and
+there's that bankrupt stock of piano lamps. [_Crosses to sofa; sits on
+sofa with_ ETHEL. FANSHAW _comes down._
+
+ETHEL. [_Half laughing._] That's true! By the way, have you sent back
+Mrs. Bayley's presents yet?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Yes, why?
+
+ETHEL. Go on, tell her, Fanshaw. [_Rises and goes to centre._ MRS.
+LORRIMER _and_ FANSHAW _sit on sofa._
+
+FANSHAW. [_Laughing._] Oh, it's nothing, only I sent it to Mrs. Bayley
+myself three Christmases ago as a philopene. I suppose she thought I
+wouldn't remember, but she forgot both our initials are marked on the
+bottom.
+
+ETHEL. [_At table, examining presents. Laughing._] Yes, my dear, and
+Marion found them. People really ought to be more careful.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Think of a woman with all Mrs. Bayley's
+money-- [_Interrupted._
+
+ETHEL. My dear, it is the rich who do these sort of things. Every year
+all my second-hand Christmas cards and calendars come from my
+wealthiest friends! And there's that thing-- [_Lifting a vase._] Isn't
+it hideous? I don't know who sent it but-- [_Interrupted._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. _I_ do.
+
+ETHEL. [_Innocently._] Who?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. I did.
+
+ETHEL. Good gracious. [_Laughs._] I assure you I haven't any taste.
+[ETHEL _down centre._ FANSHAW _rises_.
+
+FANSHAW. No, not a bit. [_Goes back of sofa and up to table._ ETHEL
+_up stage by table._
+
+ETHEL. How many presents did Marion get, anyway? [_Looking among the
+things on the table._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. I don't know. [_Satirically._] I didn't count them.
+
+ETHEL. I don't believe she got very many--Marion has always taken up
+so many poor people. I'm sure I never can tell what she sees in them!
+[ETHEL _crosses right of table_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Oh, yes, Ethel, I know how you choose your friends. The
+other day I heard you were running after the Lloyds--that settles it,
+I said--they are either going to have a box at the Opera this year, or
+give a series of dinners, or a big ball. Ethel knows what she's about.
+
+FANSHAW. Exactly--Ethel knows her business, but you left out one
+thing--they have the best cook in town, too.
+
+ETHEL. [_Taking up a box with a large silver fish knife in it._] Who
+gave her this fish knife?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. The Conrads, didn't they.... [ETHEL _bursts out
+laughing_.
+
+ETHEL. Ha! ha! ha! If that isn't appropriate! You know the old man
+Conrad made all his money out of imitation sardines!
+
+FANSHAW. And very bad imitations, too.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Well, if I could make as much as Conrad, I'd be willing
+to imitate codfish!
+
+ETHEL. [_Takes up a small box at which she has been looking._] Here's
+my present. I might as well take it home with me and save you the
+trouble. [_Puts it in her pocket. She looks at silver hand-glass._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Dryly._] Thank you! Was that your present in a
+Tiffany box--a small diamond pin?
+
+ETHEL. Yes, wasn't it sweet?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Rather. I saw those pins marked down at Wanamaker's
+Christmas time.
+
+ETHEL. For heaven's sake, don't tell Marion. [_Re-enter_ MAID.
+
+MAID. Mrs. Wolton will be down at once, madam-- [MAID _exits at back._
+FANSHAW _crosses to table_.
+
+ETHEL. [_Who goes back to_ MRS. LORRIMER.] Wasn't it awful
+yesterday--in the church! [_Crosses._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_With a sigh._] Awful. [_Rises and crosses to centre._
+
+ETHEL. [_Kneeling, with one knee on the sofa._] Still, I will say one
+thing, I've always been dying to have it happen.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Ethel! What a little beast you are.
+
+FANSHAW. Oh, she didn't mean to Marion particularly. Did you, Ethel?
+
+ETHEL. No; if I had my choice I'd rather see it happen to Kitty; she's
+always pretending she's so sincere and all that.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Marion is well rid of a man like Fletcher.
+
+ETHEL. Oh, I don't know--I believe I'd take him to-morrow if he asked
+me.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Well, I wish he would--it would serve you just right.
+
+FANSHAW. Oh, but you couldn't, to-morrow, even if he did ask you--you
+forget.
+
+ETHEL. Oh, of course I did. My dear, I meant to tell you when I came
+in that I'm announcing my engagement to-day.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Good gracious, to whom?
+
+ETHEL. To Mr. Fanshaw.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Good heavens. Allow me to condole-- [_Crosses to_
+FANSHAW.] I mean congratulate you. And so you're going to be married!
+[ETHEL _crosses. They shake hands._
+
+ETHEL. Oh, no, only engaged for a little while,--just for fun. [MRS.
+WOLTON _enters_.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Good morning, Ethel. I'm going to ask you to excuse
+Marion. She isn't seeing _any_ one this morning.
+
+ETHEL. I understand--of course--give her my love and tell her not to
+mind--every one's on her side and,--she looked perfectly lovely. Tell
+her she had the prettiest wedding dress anyway of the season. [_She
+goes to kiss_ MRS. WOLTON, _who draws back. Both_ MRS. WOLTON _and_
+MRS. LORRIMER _are aghast at the flippant manner of_ ETHEL. ETHEL
+_raises her eyebrows, shrugs her shoulders._] Good-bye, good-bye. Come
+along, Fanshaw. [_Exit._
+
+FANSHAW. [_Crossing to_ MRS. WOLTON.] Oh, Mrs. Wolton, don't mind
+Ethel. She doesn't mean what she sounds like. She never does mean what
+she sounds like. Besides, she's a little rattled this morning. You see
+she's engaged again.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Engaged?
+
+FANSHAW. Yes, not to Johnny. I'm it. [ETHEL _re-enters_.
+
+ETHEL. Come along, Fanshaw.
+
+FANSHAW. All right, I'm coming. [_Takes up hat and papers._ ETHEL
+_motions for him to leave papers--he does so and exits with_ ETHEL.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. How is Marion?
+
+MRS. WOLTON. In the same extraordinary frame of mind--I'm afraid
+she'll be ill.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. You mean, so composed?
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Yes, so hard--she hasn't shed a tear--the only person
+she's at all human with is that poor creature upstairs. And you know
+she's sent for _him_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Surprised._] She's going to see him?
+
+MRS. WOLTON. She insists upon doing so.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. I wonder why? I never want to see any of my husbands
+again-- [_Crosses to_ MRS. WOLTON.] after they've once disappointed
+me.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. I suspect--I don't know--Marion refuses to talk about it,
+but her sending for this Mrs.--er--Miss--er--dear me, I don't know
+what to call her--but you know who I mean--I think Marion has an idea
+she can help her to--er-- [_She hesitates._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. You don't mean to marry Fletcher? [MRS. WOLTON _nods
+her head. Incredulously._] She still wants to?
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Anything for her child's future.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Very seriously reflecting._] Well, I can understand
+that. [_She rouses herself and finishes in her old manner._] But, my
+dear, I can sympathize with her, too, poor thing. I know what's before
+her--you see, both mine were brutes.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_Rises and crosses to_ MRS. LORRIMER.] Will you mind if
+I say something very frank to you?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Tentatively._] Well--frank things are always
+disagreeable.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Anyway, I am going to run the risk. You know you are
+considered--rather--er--
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. I suppose you want to say heartless?
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Oh, no!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Well--then frivolous--
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Yes--perhaps--and--a few other things--but you aren't.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Yes, I am.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. No, you're not.--These qualities are all only on the
+surface. [_Both sit on sofa._] They are the rouge and powder of your
+character--underneath, I believe you are plain and sincere.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Laughing._] I'm not so mad about being plain, but
+sincere I would like to be.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. It's your wretched luck in your married life that has
+made you what you are!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Sincerely, with much feeling, and almost breaking
+down._] You're right. It was a case of hardening my heart and laughing
+in the world's face, or--or having it laugh in mine perhaps.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. What you need now as you did in the beginning is a good
+husband--like mine was.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Good men don't grow on bushes, and besides, good men
+don't seem to care about me.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. I know just the man, and I believe he's been in love with
+you for years, though he may not know it himself! [MRS. LORRIMER
+_looks at her questioningly._ MRS. WOLTON _goes to her and, putting
+her arm around her neck, whispers in her ear._] I want you for a
+_sister_-in-law.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Embarrassed, pleased._] Mrs. Wolton!
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Call me "Laura," and I shall feel as if matters had
+progressed a little. [_Enter_ DAWSON--_suddenly and unceremoniously.
+Both women start slightly and exchange a quick, covert, meaning
+glance. Rise._
+
+DAWSON. Ah, Laura--I attended to that for you at once. Has she come?
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Yes, she's upstairs.
+
+DAWSON. Good. [MRS. LORRIMER _coughs_.] Mrs. Lorrimer-- [_Shaking her
+hand._] I have followed you here--they told me at your house.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_Rather hopefully._] You want to see Mrs. Lorrimer?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Very quickly, aside to_ MRS. WOLTON _with humour._]
+Say "Emily"--that may help a little, too!
+
+MRS. WOLTON. You want to see Emily?
+
+DAWSON. [_A momentary surprise at the name._] Emily, sweet
+name--er--yes, if you will allow me, alone. [_Goes right, takes out
+handkerchief, and mops brow._
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Alone!--very well! [_Aside to_ MRS. LORRIMER.] I'd no
+idea it would come so soon. It must be _that_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Blushing._] No, no, it's something else-- [_Believing
+though that it is._
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_Still aside._] One thing delights me, you're as much in
+love as he is-- [_Aloud._] Good-bye, _Emily_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Aloud, with emphasis._] Good-by, _Laura_! [MRS.
+WOLTON _exits_.
+
+DAWSON. Mrs. Lorrimer-- [_Crosses centre._] I want to speak to you on
+a matter of the greatest privacy.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Yes. [_Very quietly._
+
+DAWSON. You are the only woman in the world who can help me.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Seriously._] I consider that a true compliment, Mr.
+Dawson.
+
+DAWSON. I hesitate because I do not know if I have the right to ask
+you to share my secret with me.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. As far as I am concerned, I _give_ you that right.
+
+DAWSON. You will help me at no matter what inconvenience to yourself?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Yes--but I may not--er--consider it an "inconvenience"
+to myself. [_Smiling._
+
+DAWSON. Very well then--the terrible trouble of yesterday is not the
+only calamity that may happen to my sister and her daughter.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Rising--surprised, disappointed, but still affected
+seriously by his serious manner._] It is of them you wish to speak to
+me?
+
+DAWSON. Yes.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. It is for them you wish my help?
+
+DAWSON. Yes.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_With one sigh, dismisses her disappointment and holds
+out her hand--crosses to right of table._] It is yours for the asking.
+
+DAWSON. Thank you! [_Presses her hand._] Mr. Wolton killed himself to
+escape being convicted of a crime. [_Sits left of table._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Withdraws her hand slowly from his, and whispers in
+tremulous surprise and horror._] What!!!
+
+DAWSON. He had misappropriated funds entrusted to his care,--exposure
+became inevitable--you know the rest.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. But Marion, Mrs. Wolton?
+
+DAWSON. They know nothing!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Nothing! [_Looks puzzled._] But how--
+
+DAWSON. The night of the catastrophe, Fletcher announced his
+engagement to Marion, and claimed his right to bear a share of the
+family's trouble. I took him at his word by asking him to come to the
+rescue of his future wife's name and honour with--money!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. And he did!
+
+DAWSON. Yes--willingly! He was splendid that night.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. That's why you suddenly became his champion!
+
+DAWSON. Yes, I couldn't believe the tales against him, when he had
+proved his love for Marion by such a big act of generosity.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. He knows everything?
+
+DAWSON. Everything, that same night.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. And he has never breathed a word?
+
+DAWSON. That was only natural up to yesterday, but
+now-- [_Interrupted._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. He doesn't threaten to tell?
+
+DAWSON. He does, unless Marion marries him. He's mad about her. The
+good in him has loved her up to now; now it's the devil in him. He's
+not the same man!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. And what do you want me to do?
+
+DAWSON. Advise me.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. _I._ Advise _you_?
+
+DAWSON. Yes. Shall we tell Marion?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. About her father?
+
+DAWSON. Yes.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. No, no! Not if we can help it!
+
+DAWSON. But-- [_Interrupted._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. And Fletcher must be paid every cent he gave.
+
+DAWSON. Not easily done. Of course you will understand I have nothing;
+what I had went at the first, and I shall need all my income now for
+Laura and Marion.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. You will borrow this money in your name.
+
+DAWSON. I have no security. [_A moment's pause; both think--rise._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Do you carry a life insurance? [_Crosses left._
+
+DAWSON. Yes, quite a heavy one.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Why not borrow on your life insurance this sum?
+
+DAWSON. [_Pleased._] Of course, of course! What a fool I've been not
+to think of that! How clever you are! But again, it must be borrowed
+privately for many reasons. [_Again a moment's pause, while both
+think._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Showing decision and determination._] I think I know
+some one.
+
+DAWSON. Who?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Don't ask me till I've seen him and found out--I will
+go now-- [_Crossing up centre._]--at once, and make a beginning, and
+you must go to Fletcher and keep him from coming here.
+
+DAWSON. That won't be necessary, for surely Marion wouldn't see him.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. On the contrary she has _sent_ for him!
+
+DAWSON. [_Astonished._] She isn't still in love with him! I'll go to
+him and say I've come to talk business; I think that's the best way to
+put it.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Yes, and now, go right away!
+
+DAWSON. [_With a world of appreciation and sentiment in his voice and
+manner._] _Without thanking you?_
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Yes, please, because I don't want you to thank me in a
+hurry--I want you to take a good long time over it. [_A moment's
+pause; they look at each other._ DAWSON _seizes her hand, half
+shamefacedly, and kisses it. He starts for hat, which he placed on
+table as he entered._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Drawing him back--half shyly._] Oh--answer me just
+one question....
+
+DAWSON. A dozen.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. What have you--a nice man--I mean--a man like you....
+[_Interrupted._
+
+DAWSON. [_Interrupting._] What kind of a man?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. A "nice" man--you _are_ a nice man, aren't you?
+[_Smiling sweetly and rather archly at him._
+
+DAWSON. [_Embarrassed._] Well--I--I'm afraid I shall have to leave the
+answer with you--am I?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Yes, I think you are--and why have you never married?
+
+DAWSON. Well, you see, _some_ people marry so often, some others of us
+don't marry at all, just to strike a sort of balance!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Laughing._] That's mean of you to say to me! Come,
+answer my question honestly.
+
+DAWSON. Well, I've only known one woman in the world who wouldn't bore
+me.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. There are such things as happy marriages, aren't there?
+
+DAWSON. I should like to risk one, only-- [_He hesitates and stops._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. This "one woman in the world?"
+
+DAWSON. Oh, she's absurd, impossible!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Why?...
+
+DAWSON. She wants to divorce all her husbands.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Well, but don't give her a chance!
+
+DAWSON. Eh, what?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Don't give her a chance--any reason.
+
+DAWSON. By George! I never thought of that.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Delighted._] You stupid!
+
+DAWSON. [_Delighted._] Don't you know who I mean?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Very self-consciously._] No--how should I?
+
+DAWSON. Can't you guess?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. I don't want to guess, I want to know for _certain_.
+
+DAWSON. You are "the only woman in the world!" [_He bows low before
+her, his right arm bent, his hand on his chest._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Takes his arm._] Well, I am ready to run the risk if
+you are. [MRS. LORRIMER _and_ DAWSON _cross right._] But now we
+mustn't lose any more time--take a cable-car; I will, it'll be quicker
+than a cab. Perhaps you won't approve of cable-cars for me, though.
+They are the most emotional mode of convenience I've ever tried.--This
+morning, in two curves I sat in three men's laps!
+
+DAWSON. _Ah._ [_Laughing._] Don't let those curves get to be a habit,
+or I'll sue the company for alienating your affections.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Laughing._] Come! [_Takes his arm again and they
+meet_ MARION, _who enters._
+
+MARION. [_As she comes._] Tired out, Emily? [DAWSON _goes up stage to
+door_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Tired! I never felt so rested in all my life! I haven't
+tied up very many. [_With a look and gesture toward the table of
+presents._] I've been interrupted--and now you must excuse me for a
+little while, but I'll come back and do some more.
+
+DAWSON. I'll go at once-- [_To_ MARION.] --an errand for Emily--Mrs.
+Lorrimer. [_Emphasis on the name and a meaning look._] Good-bye--
+[_Going. Both women say_ "Good-bye," _but_ MRS. LORRIMER _follows
+him._ MARION'S _back is turned._ MRS. LORRIMER _quickly gives_ DAWSON
+_a large bunch of violets she carries in exchange for a small rose-bud
+he wears in his buttonhole. He cannot get it into his coat. There is
+amused confusion._ MARION _turns and_ DAWSON _quickly exits._ MRS.
+LORRIMER _down left of table._
+
+MARION. [_Right of table._] It's like the death of someone, isn't it?
+This is the death of my marriage, and these gifts are its clothes.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Has--er--she gone?
+
+MARION. No--she's waiting up in my room.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. What for?
+
+MARION. [_Quietly._] I mean to make him marry her if I can, here,
+to-day.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Doubtfully._] Do you think you can?
+
+MARION. If he loves me, I think so. I shall ask him to prove his love
+by doing the one honourable, honest thing there is for him to do. [_To
+sofa._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. You believe in this woman?
+
+MARION. He has practically acknowledged that what she says is true.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Tenderly._] And _you_, dear, and your love--
+[_Crosses to_ MARION. _Interrupted._
+
+MARION. _My_ love--for _him_. [_Sits on sofa_.] The blow he struck
+Jeannette fell on my heart and killed my love. A man who would strike
+a woman will do most anything,--and think where he did it, and _why_?
+Because she was pleading and fighting for the rights of his child!
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. I am glad, dear, you can take it so calmly.
+
+MARION. [_Calmly._] Oh, no, it isn't exactly that--I am reasonable; I
+see I've escaped a great misery and I'm grateful-- [_Enter_ SERVANT.]
+But I suffer terribly, for the moment I close my eyes, I see only the
+dreadful scene of yesterday.
+
+SERVANT. Mr. Fletcher, ma'am.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Oh! He's missed him!
+
+MARION. What? [_Rises._] Who's missed who?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Nothing. Nobody!
+
+MARION. [_To_ SERVANT.] Show him in, Howes. [SERVANT _bows slightly
+and exits_.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Quickly._] Let me go the other way. [_Reaches door._
+
+MARION. You're coming back?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Yes. [_Kisses_ MARION.
+
+MARION. What a sweet rose that is. [_Touching_ DAWSON'S _rose in_ MRS.
+LORRIMER'S _dress._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Yes, it's the loveliest rose I've ever seen. [_Exit
+quickly as_ FLETCHER _enters._
+
+FLETCHER. [_Speaking seriously but pleasantly, evidently expecting
+that everything is to be made all right between them._] Thank you for
+sending for me, but I would have come without your message!
+
+MARION. [_Looks at him, surprised at his tone. Speaks quietly._]
+Jeannette is upstairs waiting.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Starts; his whole manner changes; he realizes now that he
+has to fight for what he wants and against what he doesn't want._]
+Why?
+
+MARION. I've promised her you shall marry her, if I can make you.
+
+FLETCHER. You can't. No, no, Marion. [_Pleading._] You won't throw me
+over for yesterday. I lost my temper, I know, and I'm sorry for it,
+but I love you-- [_Interrupted._
+
+MARION. [_Interrupting._] Prove it by doing what I ask.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Angry._] Never! [_Goes right._
+
+MARION. [_Follows him._] If you make the reparation there is in your
+power, it would save you from being utterly contemptible in my eyes!
+
+FLETCHER. _You_ say that!!!
+
+MARION. Yes,--will you do what I ask?
+
+FLETCHER. [_Angry._] No!
+
+MARION. [_Angry._] Then I do _right_ to despise you!
+
+FLETCHER. No, because it is _my love_ for _you_ that keeps me back.
+[MARION _laughs a bitter, satirical laugh_.] I will marry only _you_.
+
+MARION. Me! Ha! [_Laughs again._
+
+FLETCHER. [_Angrily--close to her._] And I _will_ marry you.
+
+MARION. No, you'll not! [_Faces him._
+
+FLETCHER. I will _force_ you to marry me.
+
+MARION. How dare you to take that tone with me.
+
+FLETCHER. I dare more than that.
+
+MARION. [_Goes to bell._] Take care, or I'll have the servants turn
+you out of the house! [FLETCHER _laughs an ironical laugh._] _Will_
+you marry Jeannette Gros!
+
+FLETCHER. [_More angry._] No! [_He follows her._] And I won't leave
+this house, either. [_Takes her hand._
+
+MARION. Don't touch me!
+
+FLETCHER. I won't leave the house because it's _mine_. And so will
+_you_ be!
+
+MARION. No!
+
+FLETCHER. Yes, you will, because I'll buy you with your father's
+reputation!
+
+MARION. With what!
+
+FLETCHER. With your father's good name.
+
+MARION. You--scoundrel.
+
+FLETCHER. We are well mated, for you are the daughter of one! [MARION
+_immediately touches the bell, which is heard ringing in the
+distance_.] You had better dismiss the servant when he comes; I am
+sure you would rather he didn't hear all I have to say.
+
+MARION. [_Almost under her breath._] _You_ cannot injure my father!
+
+FLETCHER. Ask your uncle, Mr. Dawson! [MARION _looks up questioningly,
+as if she suddenly remembered something._ SERVANT _enters_.
+
+MARION. Ask Mrs. Wolton to please come here at once.
+
+SERVANT. Yes, m'm. [_Crosses room and exits._
+
+FLETCHER. You remember the night of your fancy-dress ball and your
+father's--death-- [_He pauses_--MARION _doesn't answer, but looks
+troubled._] He took his life to save it from being--disgraced, because
+he was a _thief_!
+
+MARION. Stop! [_She draws herself up and looks_ FLETCHER _in the face.
+He stops. She goes to door left and opens it. He goes right. Enter_
+MRS. WOLTON, _a little frightened._ MARION _takes her hand and leads
+her down stage._ MRS. WOLTON _sees_ FLETCHER, _but does not bow._
+FLETCHER _bows._ MARION _takes_ MRS. WOLTON'S _hand and the two women
+stand, facing_ FLETCHER _who stands._
+
+MARION. You repeat, if you dare, the vile slander of my father!
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Your father?
+
+FLETCHER. All that I said is true, and more!
+
+MRS. WOLTON. What is true? What did he say? [_A pause._ FLETCHER
+_remains doggedly silent._
+
+MARION. Ah! You daren't repeat it before my mother! [FLETCHER
+_sneers_.] You know she would prove the lie in your face! Did you
+think you would frighten me into marrying you! Do you think a man with
+a reputation like yours, could injure the reputation of a man like my
+father, loved by everyone!
+
+FLETCHER. And who cheated those very people who loved him--that's only
+what _I_ did. He was no better than I-- [MRS. WOLTON _makes a movement
+and an effort to interrupt him_.
+
+MARION. [_To_ MRS. WOLTON.] Let him finish, mother. [_Holding her
+back._
+
+FLETCHER. He left you both beggars, and robbed his own sister besides.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. _It is not true!_
+
+MARION. [_Not believing him._] How is it, then, that we have
+everything, everything we could wish for! How is it we have lived in
+our old home, lived our old life, if we were beggars!
+
+FLETCHER. How?--thanks to _my_ money, _I've_ paid for it all! [MARION
+_opens her lips to speak, but cannot; a short pause_.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. You! [MARION _stops her with her hand on her arm._ MARION
+_and_ MRS. WOLTON _cross to sofa._
+
+FLETCHER. [_Quietly._] It is true! This is _my_ house you're in! [_A
+pause--the two women are stunned, speechless, unable to comprehend and
+believe, yet unable to contradict. Re-enter_ DAWSON.
+
+FLETCHER. Ah! [_Relieved, as_ DAWSON _is his proof._ DAWSON, _looking
+from one person to the other, realizes the situation. He looks a
+little frightened at the two women. An awkward moment's pause._]
+Question _him_ if you doubt my word.
+
+MARION. My father! Is what he says true? [_The women are afraid to
+question._
+
+DAWSON. [_To_ FLETCHER.] Have you told them?
+
+FLETCHER. The truth? _Yes!_
+
+DAWSON. [_To_ FLETCHER.] Your reason?
+
+FLETCHER. I didn't come here to do it; she made me angry. She drove me
+to it.
+
+MARION. [_In a hard, tuneless voice._] He says my father was not
+honest--is that _true_?
+
+DAWSON. [_Answers with difficulty._] Yes. [_A sob comes into_ MARION'S
+_throat and she almost breaks down, but she at once controls herself._
+
+MARION. He says _his_ money has been supporting us since--since--
+
+DAWSON. [_To_ FLETCHER.] A _manly_ way to put it!
+
+FLETCHER. [_Crosses left. Bursting out again._] I wanted you to feel
+an obligation to me--I don't want to lose you.--You loved me
+yesterday; if you were once bound to me, you'd love me again--you
+can't change like that over night.
+
+MARION. If yesterday had left any love in my heart for you, you would
+have destroyed it by what you have done to-day.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_Who has gained control of herself._] But I don't
+understand how it was his money--
+
+DAWSON. [_Interrupts._] At the time of your husband's death a large
+sum of money was needed to keep his wrong-doing from being made
+public. I took Fletcher into my confidence, and he lent us this sum.
+
+MARION. You should have _told_ me.
+
+DAWSON. I wanted to save you.
+
+MARION. No! no! It was placing me in a terribly false position. It was
+placing all of us! Well, _I_ take the debt now on _my_ shoulders!
+Between us three we will manage to pay it up in time--I am ready to
+give up the rest of my life to it. [_Crosses to_ FLETCHER.] Don't be
+afraid, you will be paid!
+
+FLETCHER. And you still persist in your refusal to marry me?
+
+MARION. Yes! Yes! Yes!! A thousand times now more than ever.
+
+FLETCHER. And do you think all those years you are trying to scrape up
+the money, I'll hold my tongue? I don't care about the money, I only
+care about you.--If I can't have you, do you think I'm going to accept
+the disgrace you helped heap upon me yesterday? Not I, if I know it!
+Throw me over, and I'll make public your father's record--every
+dishonest bit of it! [_Strikes table._
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_Cries out._] No! No! [_Crosses to_ DAWSON.
+
+DAWSON. You dare threaten?
+
+MARION. No, no! He can't mean it.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. [_Taking_ DAWSON'S _arm._] No, no! He wouldn't bring this
+disgrace upon us! What good would it do him?
+
+FLETCHER. Then persuade her to marry me.
+
+DAWSON. No. Rather the disgrace!
+
+MARION. [_To_ FLETCHER.] I never thought I would humble myself before
+you, but I do, now, and I beg you, for the love you say you have for
+me, spare the name of a man, who at least never harmed you! Don't
+dishonour my father's memory. Isn't it enough revenge for you that my
+mother and I know it! [_With tears._ FLETCHER _is a little affected,
+but_ DAWSON _does not see this, and interrupts. He pulls_ MARION _away
+from before_ FLETCHER.
+
+DAWSON. No--I won't have you pleading to him! [_Places her to left
+and_ Marion _puts arms about her mother._
+
+FLETCHER. I know who I have to thank for all this--Rhodes!
+
+MARION. There is no need to mention his name. [_Arms about her
+mother._
+
+FLETCHER. Isn't there! It was he who brought Jeannette here--it was he
+we both have to thank for yesterday's ordeal.
+
+MARION. [_To_ DAWSON, _half-heartedly._] What? [_She places_ MRS.
+WOLTON _on sofa._
+
+FLETCHER. You didn't believe me when I told you of your father! But
+this is as true as that was. And the night you promised to marry me,
+Rhodes threatened to do this very thing.
+
+MARION. It isn't possible! He wouldn't have submitted me to
+yesterday's humiliation!
+
+FLETCHER. How else could she--living quietly in a little town in
+Switzerland--know of our affairs here?
+
+DAWSON. I confess Rhodes tried to prejudice me, but I was too much
+impressed with Fletcher's generosity.
+
+FLETCHER. That money was nothing. I'd do it all over again to-morrow
+if Marion would only marry me.
+
+MARION. Douglas tried to influence me, too.
+
+FLETCHER. He wants you himself, that's why!
+
+MARION. [_In despair._] Then I have no one--no friend to believe in!
+Not even you, Uncle Fred, for you should have told me about my father
+in the beginning.
+
+FLETCHER. [_To_ MARION.] You have me!
+
+MARION. Oh! Can't I make you understand, _you_ least of all! [SERVANT
+_enters and announces_--"Mrs. Lorrimer--Mr. Rhodes." _Those on the
+stage look up surprised._
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Oh! this is more than I will bear! Mr. Rhodes, I must beg
+you to excuse us.
+
+DOUGLAS. To excuse you?
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. I have brought Mr. Rhodes-- [_Interrupted._
+
+MRS. WOLTON. Then, I must ask you to take him away if he is unwilling
+to leave without you!
+
+DAWSON. No, Laura, wait-- [_Interrupted._
+
+MARION. Mother is right. It should have been enough for Mr. Rhodes to
+have witnessed our humiliation yesterday. It is adding another insult
+for him to come here to-day.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Marion, you don't know what you're saying--
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Stops_ MRS. LORRIMER.] No! Miss Wolton is doubtless
+right-- [_Movement from_ MARION.] You did not tell me Mr. Fletcher was
+here, or I shouldn't have been persuaded to come. I prefer to go--
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. No, not without my telling why you came.
+
+DOUGLAS. No, I must ask you to keep the reason entirely to
+yourself--and Mr. Dawson. [_Starts to go._
+
+DAWSON. [_Stops him._] Not yet. I understand now why you have come
+with Mrs. Lorrimer. It is not fair that your reason for coming should
+not be known.
+
+FLETCHER. We know it; Miss Wolton has sufficiently explained. His
+presence here at this moment is only another insult.
+
+DOUGLAS. Oh, you wish me to go? [MRS. LORRIMER _begins to cross back
+of_ DOUGLAS _to right of table._] That puts another colour on the
+matter. I am at a loss to imagine how Mrs. Wolton could accuse me of
+the sentiments she did. I will stay and wait for an explanation from
+her.
+
+MARION. I will give it to you if you will excuse me for a moment.
+[_Going._
+
+DAWSON. [_Meeting her._] What are you going to do?
+
+MARION. Bring her here--she is in my room----
+
+FLETCHER. [_Uneasy._] Jeannette!
+
+MARION. [_Ignoring_ FLETCHER, _speaks to_ DAWSON _in reply to_
+FLETCHER'S _question._] She will tell us who brought her to New York,
+and that will answer--Mr. Rhodes. [_She exits._
+
+FLETCHER. [_To_ DAWSON.] I refuse to remain to see this woman. [_Takes
+his hat._
+
+DAWSON. I have no wish to detain you--but kindly give your address
+that I may communicate with you.
+
+FLETCHER. My bankers you know,--that is all that is necessary, as I
+shall very likely sail--what day is this?
+
+DAWSON. Friday.
+
+FLETCHER. [_Bitterly._] Oh, yes, of course, my wedding-day was on
+Thursday! I think I shall sail in to-morrow's steamer. [MARION
+_re-enters. Sees_ FLETCHER _going, her voice stops him_.
+
+MARION. You are going--wait. This gentleman has asked me a question,
+which I think you can answer for me, by answering a question of mine
+to you. How did you know of my marriage to--of my marriage of
+yesterday?
+
+JEANNETTE. From a friend who wrote me and sent me the newspapers.
+
+MARION. [_Meaningly._] A man or woman friend?
+
+JEANNETTE. A woman!
+
+MARION. [_Starts--it is the first shock of doubt she has had._]
+Douglas Rhodes had nothing to do with your appearance yesterday in the
+church?
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Astonished--hurt._] _You thought that?_
+
+JEANNETTE. Oh, no, Miss Wolton, he had nothing in the world to do with
+it.
+
+MARION. [_Stands up as if shot, her face full of shame and
+grief--turns slowly toward_ DOUGLAS, _bows her head, half whispers._]
+I beg your pardon.
+
+DAWSON. [_To_ FLETCHER.] You see you were wrong, Mr. Fletcher.
+
+FLETCHER. Possibly. Good-bye.
+
+MRS. WOLTON. And our secret, my husband's-- [_Hesitates, searching for
+a word--does not finish._
+
+FLETCHER. Oh, I was only trying to bully your daughter into marrying
+me--a drowning man, you know--I thought I could make her love me again
+if I once had a good chance--that's all. Well--I've bought lots of
+pleasure at the cost of other people's; now I'm going to pay my debt,
+I suppose, with some misery on my own account, but--well,--I sha'n't
+disturb Wolton's memory. [MRS. WOLTON _whispers aloud to herself
+involuntarily--_ "Thank God!" FLETCHER _continues speech._] Because,
+because-- [_A sob comes in his throat._] I can't help it, I still love
+his daughter. [_After a long look at_ MARION, _exits._ MARION _has
+turned from_ DOUGLAS _and listened to the end of_ FLETCHER'S _speech.
+As he goes_, JEANNETTE _involuntarily seizes_ MARION'S _hand._ MARION
+_frees herself from_ JEANNETTE _with an encouraging look at her, and
+follows_ FLETCHER _out._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. Well, bad as he is, there is something about that man
+that takes right hold of me. [_To_ DAWSON.] It's lucky I've fallen in
+love with you, or I might have had one more inning in the divorce
+club.
+
+DAWSON. I'm only afraid there's a little danger of you trying it
+again, anyway.
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. With _you_? Oh, no! The day we are married I'm going to
+begin writing letters to the newspapers in favour of abolishing the
+institution.
+
+MARION. [_Enters._ JEANNETTE _goes to her quickly, calm and
+hopefully._] Go to him, he is waiting. [JEANNETTE _gives an
+exclamation of emotional relief and joy._] Be tactful; he wants to
+sail on to-morrow's steamer--don't ... [_Interrupted._
+
+JEANNETTE. I understand--he shall sail alone, if he will only leave
+his name behind for my boy.
+
+MARION. That he will do--he said so. [_As_ MARION _turns_, JEANNETTE
+_takes her hand and leaves the room._
+
+MRS. LORRIMER. [_Crosses to_ MARION.] Now, Marion, I want you to know
+why Douglas came.
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Rises, comes center._] Please-- [_He shakes his head._
+
+DAWSON. But she _must_ know some time.
+
+DOUGLAS. Not before me.
+
+DAWSON. Have you forgotten, Marion, our debt to Fletcher?
+
+MARION. [_Realizes what it is. To_ DOUGLAS.] _You_ would--Oh no,
+rather leave the debt with him to repay.
+
+DOUGLAS. Why?
+
+MARION. Because I owe you now more than I can ever repay, for the
+wonderful friendship you have given me all my life! I haven't the
+right to accept anything more from you.
+
+DOUGLAS. Let me be the judge of that--
+
+MARION. Still, after all that's gone by, you don't hate me?
+
+DOUGLAS. [_Forgetting himself._] Hate you? No. I-- [MARION _crosses to
+sofa, sits._ MRS. LORRIMER, _as he begins to speak, has touched_
+DAWSON'S _arm meaningly._ DAWSON _moves quickly and softly to_
+DOUGLAS, _and, with a quiet, soft, firm touch on his arm, stops him
+before he can say "I love you."_
+
+DAWSON. [_Aside to_ DOUGLAS.] Wait--trust to me who love you both, and
+wait.
+
+DOUGLAS. [_To_ MARION.] You'll leave the debt with me?
+
+MARION. Yes! [MRS. LORRIMER, MRS. WOLTON _and_ DAWSON _all exchange
+happy, hopeful glances._ DOUGLAS _and_ MARION _look at each other._
+
+CURTAIN.
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Transcriber's Notes
+
+Pages 533, 536: Variations in spelling Jeannette Gros (Jeannette
+Gross and Jeanette Gross) in the Cast of Characters lists have been
+retained to match the original book.
+
+Page 540: speakes changed to speaks. (She speakes aside to one)
+
+Page 548: Punctuation missing in original. Added ! after "something."
+(MR. WOLTON. Give me a word of hope, Fred!--something What are you
+going to do?)
+
+Page 549: Period added to end of sentence after "corner." (and placing
+them down left corner)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Representative Plays by American
+Dramatists: 1856-1911: The Moth and the Flame, by Clyde Fitch
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