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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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