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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: The Cabinet Minister + A farce in four acts + +Author: Arthur Pinero + +Release Date: October 1, 2010 [EBook #33957] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CABINET MINISTER *** + + + + +Produced by K Nordquist, Branko Collin, Louise Pattison +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by The Internet Archive/Canadian +Libraries) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<p class="center"> +<a href="#INTRODUCTORY_NOTE">INTRODUCTORY NOTE</a><br /> +<a href="#THE_CABINET_MINISTER">THE CABINET MINISTER</a><br /> +<a href="#ADVERTISEMENTS">ADVERTISEMENTS</a><br /> +<a href="#TNOTE">TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE</a><br /> +</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" height="654" width="400" title="Cover" +alt="The Cabinet Minister +[Decorative Illustration] +Arthur W. Pinero" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1><i>THE CABINET MINISTER</i></h1> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><i>THE PLAYS OF ARTHUR W. PINERO.</i></h2> + +<p class="center">IN MONTHLY VOLUMES.</p> + +<p class="center">Price <i>1s. 6d.</i>, paper; <i>2s. 6d.</i>, cloth.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="hang">1. <i><span class="u">The Times.</span> A Comedy in Four Acts.</i></p> + +<p class="hang">2. <i><span class="u">The Profligate.</span> A Play in Four Acts. +With a Portrait, and a Preface by Malcolm +C. Salaman.</i></p> + +<p class="hang">3. <i><span class="u">The Cabinet Minister.</span> A Farce in Four +Acts. With an Introductory Note by Malcolm +C. Salaman.</i></p> + +<p class="hang">4. <i><span class="u">The Hobby Horse.</span> <span class="right2">[Ready February.</span></i></p> + +<p><i>To be followed by "Lady Bountiful," "Dandy +Dick," "The Magistrate," "The Schoolmistress," "The +Weaker Sex," "Lords and Commons," "The Squire," +and "Sweet Lavender."</i></p> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h1>THE CABINET MINISTER<br /></h1> +<p class="center"><big>A FARCE<br /><br /> +In Four Acts<br /><br /> +By ARTHUR W. PINERO<br /><br /></big> +LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN<br /><br /> +MDCCCXCII<br /></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Copyright, January 1892.</span></p> + +<p class="center"><i>All rights reserved.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><i>Entered at Stationers’ Hall.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><i>Entered at the Library of Congress, Washington, U.S.A.</i><br /> +</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="INTRODUCTORY_NOTE" id="INTRODUCTORY_NOTE"></a>INTRODUCTORY NOTE</h2> + +<p>It is well known that Mr. Pinero holds decided views of +his own as to the nature and function of farce; indeed, +he claims for it a wider scope and a more comprehensive +purpose than have ever been associated with farce of the +old Adelphi type, or the more modern genus of the +Palais Royal. He has openly expressed his opinion that +farce must gradually become the modern equivalent of +comedy, since the present being an age of sentiment +rather than of manners, the comic playwright must of +necessity seek his humour in the exaggeration of sentiment. +Thus Mr. Pinero holds that farce should treat of +probable people placed in possible circumstances, but +regarded from a point of view which exaggerates their +sentiments and magnifies their foibles. In this light it +is permitted to this class of play, not only to deal with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</a></span> +ridiculous incongruities of incident and character, but to +satirise society, and to wring laughter from those possible +distresses of life which might trace their origin to fallacies +of feeling and extravagances of motive.</p> + +<p>"The Cabinet Minister" is the latest of Mr. Pinero’s +series of farces, and it may be regarded as the direct +development of ideas which he began to put into practice +when he wrote "The Magistrate." Since then these +ideas have undergone a process of gradual evolution, +which may be clearly traced through the successive +productions of "The Schoolmistress," "Dandy Dick," +and "The Cabinet Minister," in each of which it will +be seen that the author has aimed less at the exposition +of a plot than at the satirising of particular types of +character in a possible social atmosphere.</p> + +<p>"The Cabinet Minister" was written early in 1889, and +produced by Mrs. John Wood and Mr. Arthur Chudleigh +at the Court Theatre, on April 23, 1890.</p> + +<p>The following is a copy of the <span class="nowrap">Programme:—</span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="center"><big>ROYAL COURT THEATRE.</big></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Under the Management of Mrs. John Wood.</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p class="center">ON WEDNESDAY, APRIL 23rd,</p> + +<p class="center">At 8 o’clock,</p> + +<p class="center">WILL BE ACTED FOR THE FIRST TIME</p> + +<p class="center">AN ORIGINAL FARCE IN FOUR ACTS, CALLED</p> + +<p class="center"><big>THE CABINET MINISTER,</big></p> + +<p class="center"><small>BY</small></p> + +<p class="center">A. W. PINERO.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<table summary="Dramatis Personae"> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Earl of Drumdurris</span> (in the <span class="smcap">Guards</span>)</td><td style="width:40%;">Mr. <span class="smcap">Richard Saunders</span>.</td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Viscount Aberbrothock</span> (his Son)</td><td> * * * *</td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Right Hon. Sir Julian Twombley</span>, G.C.M.G., M.P. (Secretary of State for the <span class="nowrap">——</span> Department)</td><td>Mr. <span class="smcap">Arthur Cecil</span>.</td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Brooke Twombley</span> (his Son)</td><td>Mr. <span class="smcap">E. Allan Aynesworth</span>.</td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Macphail of Ballocheevin</span></td><td>Mr. <span class="smcap">Brandon Thomas</span>.</td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Mr. Joseph Lebanon</span></td><td>Mr. <span class="smcap">Weedon Grossmith</span>.</td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Valentine White</span> (Lady Twombley’s Nephew)</td><td>Mr. <span class="smcap">Herbert Waring</span>.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Mr. Mitford</span><a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> (Sir Julian’s Private Secretary)</td><td>Mr. <span class="smcap">Frank Farren</span>.</td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Munkittrick</span></td><td>Mr. <span class="smcap">John Clulow</span>.</td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Probyn</span> (A Servant)</td><td>Mr. <span class="smcap">Ernest Paton</span>.</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2"><hr style="width: 25%; margin-top:0.5em; margin-bottom:0.5em;" /></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Dowager Countess of Drumdurris</span></td><td>Miss <span class="smcap">R. G. Le Thière</span>.</td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia Vibart</span> (her Daughter)</td><td>Miss <span class="smcap">Isabel Ellissen</span>.</td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Countess of Drumdurris</span></td><td>Miss <span class="smcap">Eva Moore</span>.</td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span></td><td>Mrs. <span class="smcap">John Wood</span>.</td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Imogen</span> (her Daughter)</td><td>Miss <span class="smcap">Florence Tanner</span>.</td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Lady Macphail</span></td><td>Mrs. <span class="smcap">Edmund Phelps</span>.</td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Hon. Mrs. Gaylustre</span> (a Young Widow trading as Mauricette et Cie., 17<span class="smcap">a</span>, Plunkett Street, Mayfair) </td><td>Miss <span class="smcap">Rosina Filippi</span>.</td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Angèle</span></td><td>Miss <span class="smcap">Marianne Caldwell</span>.</td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Miss Munkittrick</span> </td><td>Miss <span class="smcap">Florence Harrington</span>.</td></tr> +</table> + +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"> +<span class="label">[A]</span></a> <i>Subsequently changed to </i><span class="smcap">Melton</span>.</p> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p class="center">ACT I.</p> + +<p class="center">DEBT.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>At </i>Sir <span class="smcap">Julian Twombley’s</span><i>, Chesterfield Gardens. May.</i></p> +<hr style="width: 35%;" /> + +<p class="center">ACT II.</p> + +<p class="center">DIFFICULTIES.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>At</i> Sir <span class="smcap">Julian’s</span><i> again. July.</i></p> + +<hr style="width: 35%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[Pg ix]</a></span></p> +<p class="center">ACT III.</p> + +<p class="center">DISASTER.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>At Drumdurris Castle, Perthshire. August.</i></p> + +<hr style="width: 35%;" /> +<p class="center">ACT IV.</p> + +<p class="center">DANCING.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>The same place. The next day.</i></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p class="center">THE SCENERY IS DESIGNED AND PAINTED BY T. W. HALL.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>The reception on the first night was of a half-hearted +character, for the play had been described simply as a +farce, and the audience found itself laughing at seemingly +serious situations which it felt should properly provoke +tears, feeling sympathetically interested in passages of +sentiment one moment, only to mock at them the next, +and, in fact, experiencing constant perplexity as to its +emotional duties. The programme certainly said “farce” +in black and white, and what could that mean but unmitigated +nonsense and laughter? Yet, here was actual drama +with a whimsical twist that was most surprising; here +were bits of pathos which were positively comic. Could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[Pg x]</a></span> +this be farce? But happily that kind of criticism is soon +forgotten whose principle is, like that of <i>Mr. Punch's</i> +navvy, “Here’s a stranger, let’s ’eave ’alf a brick at +him.” The “mixed” greeting of “The Cabinet Minister” +gave place to very enthusiastic receptions on succeeding +nights, and, in spite of the perplexity confessed in many +of the criticisms of the play, the theatre was crowded +night after night, and the fashionable and political worlds +flocked to the Court, many leading politicians being +frequent visitors.</p> + +<p>The season terminated on August 8, and the theatre +re-opened on October 11, from which time the popularity +of Mr. Pinero’s play continued as great as ever. But, +after 197 performances, Mrs. John Wood decided to +withdraw “The Cabinet Minister” on February 14, 1891, +in the very zenith of its success, while a further long run +was still to be reasonably expected. This play has not yet +been seen in the provinces, but Mr. Augustin Daly has +arranged to produce it, with his famous company, at his +theatre in New York early in the present month.</p> + +<p> <span class="smcap right">Malcolm C. Salaman.</span><br /> +<br /> +<i>January 1892.</i><br /> +</p> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_CABINET_MINISTER" id="THE_CABINET_MINISTER"></a> +<i>THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY</i></h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Right Hon. Sir Julian Twombley</span>, G.C.M.G., M.P., <i>Secretary of State for the * * * Department</i></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Brooke Twombley</span>, <i>their son</i></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Imogen</span>, <i>their daughter</i></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Dowager Countess of Drumdurris</span></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia Vibart</span>, <i>her daughter</i></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Earl of Drumdurris</span></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Countess of Drumdurris</span></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Viscount Aberbrothock</span>, <i>their son</i></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Lady Macphail</span></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Macphail of Ballocheevin</span>, <i>her son</i></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Valentine White</span>, <i>Lady Twombley’s nephew</i></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Hon. Mrs. Gaylustre</span>, <i>trading as Mauricette et Cie., 17a Plunkett Street, Mayfair</i></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Joseph Lebanon</span></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Melton</span></p> +<p><span class="smcap">The Munkittrick</span></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Miss Munkittrick</span></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Probyn</span></p> +<p><span class="smcap">Angèle</span><br /></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<p class="center"><big> +<a href="#THE_FIRST_ACT"><i>THE FIRST ACT</i></a><br /> +<br /> +DEBT<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a href="#THE_SECOND_ACT"><i>THE SECOND ACT</i></a><br /> +<br /> +DIFFICULTIES<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a href="#THE_THIRD_ACT"><i>THE THIRD ACT</i></a><br /> +<br /> +DISASTER<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a href="#THE_FOURTH_ACT"><i>THE FOURTH ACT</i></a><br /> +<br /> +DANCING<br /></big> +</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + +<h1>THE CABINET MINISTER</h1> + +<h2><a name="THE_FIRST_ACT" id="THE_FIRST_ACT"></a>THE FIRST ACT.</h2> + +<p class="spkr"><big>Debt</big></p> + +<p><i>The scene is a conservatory built and decorated in +Moorish style, in the house of the</i> <span class="smcap">Rt. Hon. Sir +Julian Twombley, M.P.</span>, <i>Chesterfield Gardens, +London. A fountain is playing, and tall palms +lend their simple elegance to the elaborate Algerian +magnificence of the place. The drawing-rooms +are just beyond the curtained entrances. It is a +May afternoon.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Brooke Twombley</span><i>, a good-looking but insipid young +man of about two-and-twenty, faultlessly dressed +for the afternoon, enters, and sits dejectedly, turning +over some papers.</i></p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>I’ve done it. Such an afternoon’s work—what! [<i>Reading.</i>] “Schedule of the Debts of Mr. Brooke +Twombley. [<i>Turning over sheet after sheet.</i>] Tradesmen. +Betting Transactions. Baccarat. Miscellaneous +Amusements. Sundries. Extras.”</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Probyn</span>, <i>a servant in powder and livery, is crossing +the conservatory, when he sees</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke</span>.]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Probyn.</p> + +<p>Oh, Mr. Brooke.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Slipping the schedule into his pocket.</i>] Eh!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Probyn.</p> + +<p>I didn’t know you were in, sir. Her ladyship told +me to give you this, Mr. Brooke—quietly.</p> + +<p>[<i>He hands</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke</span> <i>a letter which he has taken +from his pocket.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Glancing at the envelope.</i>] The Mater. Thank +you. [<i>A little cough is heard. He looks toward the +drawing-room.</i>] Is anyone there?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Probyn.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gaylustre, sir.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>The dressmaker! What does she want?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Probyn.</p> + +<p>She told Phipps, Miss Imogen’s maid, sir, that she +was anxious to see the effect of her ladyship’s and +Miss Imogen’s gowns when they get back from the +Drawing-Room.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>You should take her upstairs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Probyn.</p> + +<p>Beg your pardon, Mr. Brooke, but we’ve always +understood that when Mrs. Gaylustre calls in the +morning she’s a dressmaker, and when she calls in +the afternoon she’s a lady.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh, very well; it’s awfully confusing. [<span class="smcap">Probyn</span> +<i>goes out.</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke</span> <i>reads the letter.</i>] “My sweet child. +For heaven’s sake let me have your skeddle, or +whatever you call your list of debts, directly. I’ll +do my best to get you out of your scrape, though +<i>how</i> I can’t think. I’m desperately short of money, +and altogether—as my poor dear father used to say—things +are as blue as old Stilton. If your pa finds +out what a muddle I’m in, I fear he’ll throw up +public life and bury us in the country, and then +good-by to my dear boy’s and girl’s prospects. So if +I contrive to clear you once more, don’t do it again, +my poppet, or you’ll break the heart of your loving +mother, Kitty Twombley.” The Mater’s a brick—what! +But I wonder if she has any notion how +much it tots up to.</p> + +<p>[<i>He places the letter upon the back of a large saddle-bag +arm-chair while he takes out the schedule.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Three thousand seven hundred and fifty-six, +nought, two. What!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Probyn</span> <i>enters.</i>]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Probyn.</p> + +<p>A young man wants to see you, Mr. Brooke.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Who is it?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Probyn.</p> + +<p>No card, sir—and rather queerly dressed. Says +he has a wish to shake hands with you on the door-step.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh, I say! He mustn’t, you know—what!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Probyn.</p> + +<p>I don’t quite like the look of him, sir; gives the +name of White—Mr. Valentine White.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Why, that’s my cousin!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Probyn.</p> + +<p>Cousin, sir! I beg pardon.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Where is he?</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Brooke</span> <i>goes out quickly, followed by</i> <span class="smcap">Probyn.</span> <i>The</i> +<span class="smcap">Hon. Mrs. Gaylustre</span>, <i>an attractive, self-possessed, +mischievous-looking woman, of not more +than thirty, very fashionably dressed, enters from +the drawing-room</i>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>How very charming! Lady Twombley’s latest +fad, the Algerian conservatory. And there was a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> +time when a sprig of geranium on the window-sill +would have contented her. [<i>Looking at a photograph +of</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span> <i>upon the table.</i>] There she +is—Kitty Twombley. In one of my gowns too. +Kitty Twombley, once Kitty White, the daughter +of a poor farmer down in Cleverton. Ah, when +young Mr. Julian Twombley came canvassing Farmer +White’s vote he found you innocently scrubbing +the bricks, I suppose! And now! [<i>With a courtesy.</i>] Lady Twombley, wife of a Cabinet Minister +and Patroness Extraordinary of that deserving +young widow, Fanny Gaylustre! [<i>She sits surveying +the portraits upon the table.</i>] Ha, ha! I’ll turn you +all to account some fine day. Why shouldn’t I +finish as well as the dairy-fed daughter of a Devonshire +yokel? What on earth is wrong with my bonnet? [<i>She puts her hand up behind her head and +finds</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>’s <i>letter which</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke</span> <i>had left +on the back of the chair.</i>] Lady Twombley’s writing. [<i>Reading.</i>] “My sweet child. For heaven’s +sake let me have your skeddle——” [<i>She sits up +suddenly and devours the contents of the letter.</i>] Oh! [<i>Reading aloud.</i>] “I’m desperately short of money! +Things are as blue as old Stilton! If your pa finds +out——!” My word!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Heard speaking outside.</i>] My dear Valentine, +why shouldn’t you come in—what?</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Mrs. Gaylustre</span> <i>creeps round in front of the table and +disappears with the letter in her hand as</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke</span> +enters, dragging in <span class="smcap">Valentine White</span>, <i>a roughly-dressed, +handsome young fellow of about six-and-twenty, +bronzed and bearded.</i>]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Now, Brooke, you know I cut away from England +years ago because I couldn’t endure ceremony +of any kind.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>I’m not treating you with ceremony—what!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>[<i>Looking about him.</i>] Phew! the atmosphere’s +charged with it. That fellow with his hair powdered +nearly sent me running down the street like +a mad dog.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Where the deuce have you been for the last six or +eight years?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Where? Oh, buy a geography; call it, “Explorations +of Valentine White in Search of Freedom,” +and there you have it.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Freedom!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Blessed freedom from forms, shams, and ceremonies +of all sorts and descriptions.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Why, you left us for South Africa. Didn’t South +Africa satisfy you?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Satisfy me! I joined the expedition to Bangwaketsi. +What were the consequences?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Fever?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Worse. There’s no ceremony about fever. No, +Brooke, I was snubbed by a major in the Kalahari +Desert, because I didn’t dress for dinner.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Then we heard of you herding filthy cattle in +Mexico.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Yes, at Durango. I enjoyed that, till some +younger sons of the nobility came out and left +cards at my hut. I afterwards drove a railway +engine in Bolivia.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>By Jove, how awful—what! Wasn’t that sufficiently +beastly rough?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>My dear fellow, would you believe it—I got hold +of a stoker who was a decayed British baronet! +The affected way in which that man shovelled on +coals was unendurable. So I’ve come back, hopelessly +wise.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Serve you right for kicking at refinement and +good form and all that sort of thing. What!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>[<i>Mimicking</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke</span>.] Varnish, and veneer, and +all that sort of thing—what!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh, confound you! Well, you’ll dine here at a +quarter to eight, Val, won’t you?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Dine in Chesterfield Gardens! Thirteen courses +and eight wines! Heaven forgive you, Brooke.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Look here, you shall eat on the floor with a +wooden spoon.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Thank you—even your floors are too highly polished. +Tell Aunt Kitty and little Imogen that I +shall walk in Kensington Gardens to-morrow morning +at ten.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Little Imogen! Haw, haw!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Well?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>I think it will pretty considerably wound your +susceptibilities to hear that my sister Imogen is being +presented by the Mater this afternoon.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>[<i>In horror.</i>] Presented!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Presented at Court—Drawing-Room, you know.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>How dare they! poor little child!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Haw, haw! If you’ll wait a few minutes you’ll +see an imposing display of trains and feathers. +Some of them are coming on here after the ceremony +to drink tea, I believe.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Trains and feathers! Good gracious, Brooke, +Imogen must have grown up!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Here’s her portrait—what?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>[<i>Staring at the portrait.</i>] I am right, Brooke—she +<i>has</i> grown up!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Haw!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Eight years ago she was a romp, with a frock that +always had a tear in it, and a head like a cornfield +in the wind. Just look at this! While I’ve been +away they’ve given her a new frock and brushed +her hair. What an awful change!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Probyn</span> <i>appears at the conservatory entrance.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Probyn.</p> + +<p>Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia Vibart</span>, <i>a handsome, distinguished-looking, +and elegantly dressed girl of about +twenty, enters. She scarcely notices</i> <span class="smcap">Valentine</span>, +<i>who bows formally.</i>]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>No one has returned yet, Brooke?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Effie, don’t you recollect Mr. White?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Oh! how do you do? [<i>She shakes hands with him +in an affected manner.</i>] We are distantly related, I +remember.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Lady Euphemia, I join you in remembering the +relationship—and the distance.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Oh, I don’t mean that, Mr. White. At any rate, +we were excellent friends many years ago when our +cousin Imogen used to give us tea in her school-room. +She will be <i>too</i> rejoiced at your return.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>At the window.</i>] Hullo, I think pa has come +home.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Good-by, Lady Euphemia.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>I say, Effie, Mr. White won’t stay.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>[<i>Indifferently.</i>] What a pity!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>He has turned against civilization, you know, and +has become a sort of pleasant cannibal.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>A cannibal! That is <i>too</i> interesting. Pray remain, +Mr. White. My brother, Lord Drumdurris, is +on duty at the Palace to-day and is coming on here. +We all knew each other as children. He will be <i>too</i> +delighted.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>I recollect Lord Vibart, as he then was, very well. +He once burnt me with a red-hot poker.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Good-humouredly, I am sure. Perhaps you have +not heard that he married Lady Egidia Cardelloe, +Lord Struddock’s second daughter, about two years +ago. If you stay you will meet her also.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Ah, I am afraid I—I——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>You will find her <i>too</i> enchanting.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>No, he won’t. She’s not tattooed or anything.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>They have a little son, just five months old, who +is <i>too</i> divine.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Ah, now, if you boiled the baby it might be to +Val’s taste.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>As they have been constantly travelling, Egidia is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +only just presented to-day by my mother. You +recollect Lady Drumdurris, my mother?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Perfectly.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Poking</i> <span class="smcap">Valentine</span> <i>in the side.</i>] Old Lady Drum!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>My mother will be <i>too</i> charmed to meet you again.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Probyn</span> <i>enters.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Probyn.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke</span>.] Sir Julian is coming into the conservatory, +sir.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Pa! [<span class="smcap">Probyn</span> <i>goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Oh, dear Sir Julian! [<i>She runs out.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Look sharp, Brooke. Let me out.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Val, I’ll tell you what. Come upstairs and smoke +a cigarette in my room, and I’ll bring the Mater and +Imogen to you on the quiet when the people are +gone.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Why, Brooke, do you think that Aunt Kitty and +Imogen want a roving relative on the premises who +isn’t worth tuppence!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Bosh! Look out, here’s pa! He seems awfully +mumpish. Come on.</p> + +<p>[<i>He takes</i> <span class="smcap">Valentine</span> <i>out. Directly they are gone</i> <span class="smcap">Lady +Euphemia</span> <i>re-enters with</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Julian Twombley</span>, +<i>an aristocratic but rather weak-looking man of +about fifty-five, wearing his Ministerial uniform.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Are you pleased to get back, uncle?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Emphatically.</i>] Yes.</p> + +<p>[<i>She places him in the arm-chair. He sinks into +it with a sigh.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>How is your neuralgia?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Intense. It has been so ever since——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>[<i>Putting her smelling-bottle to his nose.</i>] Ever +since?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Ever since I took Office. Thank you.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Was it a very brilliant Drawing-Room?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>I think it must have been. I have been more +than usually trodden upon.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Did you catch a glimpse of Aunt Kitty or of any +of our people?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>I <i>heard</i> Lady Twombley. What inexhaustible +spirit she has! Euphemia, my dear, I confide in +you. But for Lady Twombley I could never endure +the badgering, the browbeating, the hackling, for +which I seem especially selected.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>It’s <i>too</i> unjust.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh, I know I am going to have a bad time in the +House to-night!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Don’t dwell upon it, uncle.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Euphemia! [<i>He jumps up almost fiercely.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Uncle Julian!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Certain members of the Opposition are going too +far. They regard me as a bull in the arena. They +goad me, they pierce me with questions. And then, +the lack of journalistic sympathy! Look here!</p> + +<p>[<i>He stealthily produces a newspaper from his +pocket.</i>]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>[<i>Reproachfully.</i>] Uncle Julian, you’ve bought a +newspaper. You promised aunt you never would.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>H’m! I would have you know, Euphemia, that I +have not absolutely broken my pledge to Lady +Twombley. I made Harris, the coachman, purchase +this. As you drive home drop it out of your carriage +window.</p> + +<p>[<i>As</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span> <i>takes the paper from him her +eyes fall upon a paragraph.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Oh! do they mean you, uncle?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Without doubt.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>[<i>Reading.</i>] “The Square Peg!”</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Hush! the servant!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span> <i>crams the paper into her pocket.</i> +<span class="smcap">Probyn</span> <i>enters, carrying a small music-easel with +some music on it and a flute in a case.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Probyn.</p> + +<p>Here, Sir Julian?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Oh, do play, uncle!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Probyn</span>.] Thank you.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>It will soothe you.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Taking the flute from</i> <span class="smcap">Probyn</span>.] My only vice, +Euphemia. [<span class="smcap">Probyn</span> <i>goes out.</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span> <i>sounds a +mournful note.</i>] This little friend has inspired +some of my most conspicuous oratorical triumphs. +It has furnished me with many a cutting rejoinder +for question time. [<i>He sounds another note.</i>] Ah, I +know I am going to have such a bad night in the +House.</p> + +<p>[<i>He plays.</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Gaylustre</span> <i>enters with</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke</span>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>[<i>To herself.</i>] That woman!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span>.] How do you do?</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span> <i>stares, inclines her head slightly, +and goes to</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke</span>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>[<i>To herself.</i>] Haughty wretch!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gaylustre!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Oh, Sir Julian, don’t, don’t stop!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>I thought I was alone with Lady Euphemia.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>I am waiting to see dear Lady Twombley. Oh, +do permit me to hear that sweet instrument!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Pray sit down!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span> <i>resumes his seat and plays a plaintive +melody.</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Gaylustre</span> <i>listens in a rapt +attitude.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke</span>.] That person is <i>too</i> odious to me.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Several people have taken her up.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Somehow, being taken up is what she suggests.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>She seems a sort of society mermaid—half a lady +and half a milliner—what? Only it bothers you to +know where the one leaves off and the other begins. +Who is she?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>In prehistoric days she was a Miss Lebanon. +Lord Bulpitt’s son, Percy Gaylustre, met her at +Nice—or somewhere.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh, yes, and he married her—or something.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Yes, and now she’s a widow—or something.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Why does the Mater encourage her?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Because Aunt Kate is <i>too</i> good-hearted and impressionable. +But, as a rule, I think Mrs. Gaylustre +makes a considerable reduction to those who ask +her to their parties. [<span class="smcap">Mrs. Gaylustre</span> <i>is bending over</i> +<span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span> <i>and turning his music.</i>] Look!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Probyn</span> <i>appears at the entrance.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Probyn.</p> + +<p>Here’s Sir Julian, my lady.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Hullo, Mater!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>, <i>a handsome, bright, good-humoured +woman, dressed magnificently in Court dress, +enters.</i> <span class="smcap">Probyn</span> <i>retires, and</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span> <i>stops +playing.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Kissing</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke</span>.] Well, Brooke, darling, have +you wanted your mother? [<i>Kissing</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span>.] Effie, how sweet you look! what a dream of a bonnet! [<i>Nods to</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Gaylustre</span>.] How d’ye do, Mrs. +Gaylustre? Why, pa! [<i>She bends over him and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +kisses him.</i>] You’re worried—you’ve been playing +your whistle.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Flute, Katherine.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I mean flute. It was my brother Bob who always +played a whistle when the crops were poor or +the lambs fell sickly.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>I had not the advantage of your brother Robert’s +acquaintance.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Where’s Imogen? Imogen!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>[<i>Outside.</i>] Mamma!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Come and show yourself to pa.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Imogen</span> <i>enters in her Court dress, a pretty girl of +about eighteen.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Effie, dear! Well, Brooke!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span>.] Look at her!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Quite charming!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Well, papa, have you nothing to say to me?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>My dear, I hesitate to address such a magnificent +creature.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>[<i>Bowing to</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span>.] Mamma, I think that +gentleman wishes to be presented to me. I have no +objection, if you consider him a person I ought to +know.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Kissing</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen</span>.] Ah, Julian, our sweet child!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Taking</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen</span>’s <i>hand.</i>] My dear.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>[<i>With dignity.</i>] I am pleased to make your acquaintance. +I’ve heard you mentioned very kindly +by my little friend, Imogen Twombley. Pray sit +down, and I’ll sit on your lap. [<span class="smcap">Imogen</span> <i>sits on</i> <span class="smcap">Sir +Julian</span>’s <i>knee and puts her arm round his neck.</i>] Oh, +papa, I have been so nervous!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>I quite sympathize. I was shockingly nervous +when <i>I</i> was presented.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>[<i>Rising hastily.</i>] Mrs. Gaylustre—I didn’t see +you.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span>.] Dear old Lady +Leeke, whose wheels we locked in the Park, said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +she had heard Imogen’s name mentioned fifty times. +Mrs. Charlie Lessingham declares nothing prettier +has been seen since her own first season. And it’s +true—that’s the best of it! I saw the child make +her courtesy; I was determined I would. I entered +the Throne Room just before her and tumbled +through anyhow, with one eye straight in front +of me and the other screwed round towards my girl. +There was a general shudder—it was at my squint.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>I trust not, Katherine.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>When I did get through they gave me my train, +as much as to say: “If this belongs to you, take it +home as soon as possible.” But there I stuck in the +doorway, not budging an inch. I didn’t care how +the officials whispered, and waved, and beckoned; +I stood my ground. And then, Julian, then my +breath nearly went from me, for I saw her coming! +Effie, it was lovely! Brooke, you would have been +proud of your sister! Her cheeks were like the +outside leaf of a Duchesse de Vallombrosa rose, and +her eyes like two dewdrops on the top of it; and +she had just enough fright in her little heart to +make her feathers tremble. Then she courtesied. +Ah, if she had stumbled I should have been by her +side in an instant—who would have blamed me? +I’m her mother!—but she didn’t. No, she floated +towards me—dipping, and dipping, and dipping, +again and again, as smoothly and gracefully as a +swan swimming backward!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span> <i>embraces</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen</span>.]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>I am <i>too</i> glad, Aunt Kitty.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Awfully satisfactory—what?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>I remember Lady Liphook’s daughter Miriam +falling and rolling over in the season of ’85.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Lor’ how sorry I feel for anybody who isn’t a +mother! But, I say, there’s a bit that wants taking +in there. [<i>Pinching up the shoulder of</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen</span>’s +<i>dress.</i>] Gaylustre, you must tell your woman Antoinette +this won’t do.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Oh, Lady Twombley—please!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Mrs. Gaylustre</span> <i>puts her handkerchief to her +eyes.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>My dear, pray forgive me! I really forgot where +we were.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>, <i>with a little sob.</i>] You +wouldn’t hurt my feelings wilfully, I know.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Not for the world. But it’s a little confusing, +mixing up business with pleasure. Imogen, let +Lady Effie and Mrs. Gaylustre hear you play your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +lovely harp, but don’t let the nasty thing hurt your +fingers. Brooke, I want to speak to you.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen</span> <i>stroll out, followed +by</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Gaylustre</span>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Mournfully.</i>] I’ll dress now, Katherine, and go +down.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Lor’, pa, don’t speak as if you were thinking of +our tomb at Kensal Green.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Competent authorities assure me there is quiet to +be found in the tomb; I anticipate nothing of that +kind where I am going to-night.</p> + +<p>[<i>He goes out.</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span> <i>watches his going, +then turns to</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke</span> <i>sharply.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Well, have you got it?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>My—er——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Your skeddle.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Brooke</span> <i>hands his schedule to</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>There’s a dear boy. [<i>She turns over the leaves, +gradually her face assumes a look of horror.</i>] “Total, +three thousand——!”</p> + +<p>[<i>She folds the schedule, puts it in her pocket, and +faces</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke</span> <i>fiercely with her hands clenched.</i>]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>You imp! [<i>She boxes his right ear soundly.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Mater!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>You villain! [<i>She boxes his left ear.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Don’t, Mater!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Three thousand pounds! Three thousand times +I wish you had never been born! I—I—— [<i>She +breaks down, puts her arms round Brooke’s neck, and +cries.</i>] Oh, Brooke, my dear, forgive your poor +mother’s vile temper. I’ve made my Brooke’s head +ache. Oh, my gracious!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Don’t fret, Mater. If you’re run rather low at +Scott’s——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Scott’s, Brooke! When I creep into that bank +now and ask for my pass-book I have to hold on to +the edge of the counter, I feel so sick and giddy.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh, very well then, Mater, I can wait. Mr. Nazareth, +of Burlington Street, will accommodate me for +a time; a couple of bills, you know, at three and +six months—what?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Speaking in a whisper.</i>] Brooky, Brooky, I’ve +thought of those dreadful things for myself.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>For yourself, Mater! Why, you can always get +the right side of pa.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Brooke! Brooky, I must tell you. Just now poor +pa has no right side.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Mater!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>It’s as much as the dear man can do to get a rattle +out of his keys. For a long time, Brooke, we’ve all +been outrunning the constable.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Really, Mater, I ought to have been consulted +before.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I know, Brooke, but I couldn’t face my boy’s +reproaches.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Pa must have been inexcusably reckless—what?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>No, it’s all my fault, every bit of it. [<i>A pretty +melody on the harp is heard.</i>] Brooke, never marry +a country-bred girl as your pa did. When he fell +in love with me I was content with three frocks a +year—think of that!—and had to twist up my +own hats. And I could have done it for ever<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +down at Cleverton, but I didn’t stand the transplanting. +Oh, I’ll never forget how the fine folks +snubbed me and sneered at me when I came to +town. Brooke, my son, I declare to goodness +that for ten long years I never saw a nose that +wasn’t turned up! And then pa got his baronetcy, +and old Lady Drumdurris gave us her forefinger to +shake, and that did it. But it was too late; I was +spoilt by that time. I had been too long fishing for +friends with dances, and dinners, and drags, and +race-parties, and all sorts of bait; and when the +time came for a few people to like me for my own +stupid, rough self I’d got into the way of scattering +sovereigns as freely as I used to sprinkle mignonette +seed in my little garden at the Yale Farm.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>All this is very painful, Mater—what?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Crying.</i>] What a silly woman I’ve been, Brooke!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>We’re all thoughtless at times.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>If I had but pulled in when pa’s Irish rents began +to dwindle!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Why didn’t you, Mater?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I don’t know, but I didn’t, I only prayed for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +better times and ordered Gillow to refurnish the +dining-room. Last season I got through eighteen +thousand pounds!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh!</p> + +<p>[<i>She twists him round, pointing to the walls of the +conservatory.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>And look! Look at this sixpenny Algerian grotto +I’ve stuck in the middle of the house. Seven +thousand four hundred and fifty this cost, not +counting the hot-water pipes.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Is it paid for?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Your dear pa transferred the money for it to my +account at Scott’s, but I’ve gone and spent it on other +things.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Mater!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh, my poor heart!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Well, Mater, any assistance I can render you in +this emergency——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Ah, I know. [<i>Seizing his hand and kissing it.</i>] My Brooke! my comfort!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Probyn.</p> + +<p>[<i>Outside.</i>] Lady Drumdurris—Dowager Lady +Drumdurris.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Egidia and Aunt Dora.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Wiping her eyes.</i>] Your aunt mustn’t see me upset. +Brooke, don’t think anything more of what +I’ve told you. I’ve tumbled into the mud before +now, but mud dries to dust and I’ve always managed +to shake it off. Dora!</p> + +<p>[<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Dowager Countess of Drumdurris</span> <i>enters—a +portly, rather formidable-looking lady of forty-five +or fifty, in Court dress and diamonds.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Well, Dora, are you tired?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>I hope I am never fatigued in doing my duty to +my family, Kate. Here is poor Egidia.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Egidia, Countess of Drumdurris</span> <i>enters—a small, +serious girl, with a great deal of presence and +dignity, also in Court dress.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>How do you do, Lady Twombley?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Why, <i>poor</i> Egidia! Aren’t you well, dear?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Egidia received a telegram from Scotland this +morning; her son has cut his first tooth, during her +absence, painfully.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh, dear!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>You also are a mother, Lady Twombley. You can +sympathize with such cares as those I am now endeavouring +to sustain.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen</span> <i>stroll in.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Your boy is five months old, isn’t he?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>Fergus is precisely five months.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Well, there are two-and-twenty more teeth to +come yet, you know.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>Yes, I am schooling myself into that conviction. +I am naturally, I hope, a woman of more than ordinary +courage.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Probyn</span> <i>appears at the entrance.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Probyn.</p> + +<p>Lord Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>[<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Earl of Drumdurris</span>, <i>a boyish-looking officer of +the Guards, in uniform, with much dignity and +reserve, enters.</i>]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>How do you do, Lady Twombley? Egidia.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Keith, you have further news from Scotland?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Another telegram.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>Ah!</p> + +<p>[<i>She puts her hand calmly in that of the</i> <span class="smcap">Dowager</span>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Tell us, my son.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Another tooth. [<span class="smcap">Egidia</span> <i>closes her eyes. The</i> +<span class="smcap">Dowager</span> <i>kisses her upon the brow.</i>] I offered Lady +Macphail and Sir Colin the use of my brougham, but +they preferred coming on here in their chariot.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Lady Macphail and Sir Colin! Coming here!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>.] I haven’t told you what +I’ve done. Keith!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>[<i>Bowing.</i>] Certainly.</p> + +<p>[<i>He joins the others, who are talking together.</i>]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>.] I have a motive. My +whole life has been one vast comprehensive motive. +Lady Macphail is the little woman to whom I introduced +you on the stairs at the Palace.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Well, but——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>I encountered her again, and delivered a message +from you begging her to come on here with Sir +Colin to drink tea.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I never——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>I know you didn’t. My motive is this. She has +just brought her boy to London.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Is he the great man in the kilt I saw holding on +to her lappets?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Yes.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>He’s thirty, if he’s an hour.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>He’s more. But he is a fine example of the grand +simplicity that exists in many Scottish families. +Proprietor of eighty thousand acres, head of a great +clan, Colin Macphail of Ballocheevin remains a child +attached to his mother.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh, I shall be very happy to——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Ah, you grasp my motive!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>No, I don’t.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>[<i>In</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>’s <i>ear.</i>] <i>Imogen.</i></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Imogen?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Imogen <i>must</i> make a match this season and marry +before the year is out.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Why?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Don’t deceive yourself, Kate Twombley. You +are aware that Julian’s position in the Ministry is +precarious?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>You think so?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Everybody thinks so. It’s my opinion they’ll +make a Jonah of him and cast him from them before +many months are over. You know what that +means?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Horrible! Julian giving up public life and set<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>tling +down in some dismal swamp as a country gentleman. +He has threatened it.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Very well then; you must assure your children’s +future before the blow falls. What could you do +for Imogen in the country?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>A vicar or a small squire.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>More likely a curate or a farmer. Will you resign +yourself to that?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Never, Dora! I never will! I’ve had to swallow +the husks of London and my chicks shall have the +barley. Julian <i>shall</i> hold on till they have made +brilliant marriages!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Ah!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>He shall! Afterwards I’ll go back to darning +stockings with a light heart.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Well spoken, Kate Twombley!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Probyn</span> <i>appears at the entrance.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Probyn.</p> + +<p>Sir Colin and Lady Macphail.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>.] You see my motive?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Yes, Dora.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Macphail</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Colin</span> <i>enter—she a simple +little old woman in Court dress, ecstatically sentimental; +he a formidable-looking bearded man +about six feet high, in full Highland costume, +bashful and awkward in manner, and keeping close +to his mother.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Macphail</span>.] I am delighted to see you +here.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>[<i>Presenting</i> <span class="smcap">Macphail</span>.] My boy. [<i>He shelters himself +behind her and bows uneasily.</i>] I have determined +to give the lad a season in this mighty city, Lady +Twombley.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Ah, he’ll enjoy himself, I’m sure.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Nay, the Macphails never enjoy themselves in the +South.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I’m very sorry; perhaps they don’t go the right +way about it.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Already Colin’s feet ache—<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>—</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Do they?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Ache to press the heather again, searching for a +sight of the red-deer in the misty chasms of Ben +Muchty, or the wild birds fluttering on the gray +shore of Loch-na-Doich.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Ah, very pretty country, I dare say.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Where would you be, Colin, at this hour at Castle +Ballocheevin? Watching the sun sink behind the +black peak of Ben-na-Vrachie? Speak, lad!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>[<i>Sadly.</i>] That is so, mother.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Do you do that every evening at home?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Aye.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Ah, a Macphail always feels like a seagull with a +broken wing in the South.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>You must take care you don’t get him run over.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Probyn.</p> + +<p>[<i>Appearing at the entrance.</i>] Tea is in the yellow +room, my lady.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Drumdurris</span>, <span class="smcap">Brooke</span>, <span class="smcap">Egidia</span>, <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span> +<i>go out.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>[<i>Introducing</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen</span>.] Lady Macphail, Sir Colin—my +niece, Imogen. Imogen, take Sir Colin to tea.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>This way, Sir Colin.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>.] You see my motive?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>[<i>Waiting for</i> <span class="smcap">Macphail</span>.] Tea is in this room, Sir +Colin.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>[<i>Looking at</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen</span>, <i>and then, appealingly, at</i> <span class="smcap">Lady +Macphail</span>.] Come, mother.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Imogen</span>, <span class="smcap">Macphail</span>, <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Macphail</span> <i>go out.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>, <i>following the others.</i>] He is +impressed!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span>, <i>in evening dress, enters with a letter in his +hand.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Katherine! Katherine!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Pa?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>I must speak to you.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>But Dora has just brought a Highland youth here.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>I can’t help it.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>What’s wrong, pa? How pale and waxy you +look!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Handing her the letter.</i>] An urgent letter from +old Mr. Mason, my solicitor, about my affairs.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh, Lor’, pa—another!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>You have it upside down.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Everything connected with our affairs <i>will</i> get +that way.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Mason is imperative.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>He insists upon your considering your pecuniary +position.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>What shall I do?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Accede to his request—consider it.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>But I am constantly considering it!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Hush, pa!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>No man’s pecuniary position has ever demanded or +received more consideration than my own. Day and +night my pecuniary position lashes my brain into +the consistency of a whipped egg.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Pa, be calm!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Kate, my pecuniary position interposes between +me and grave public questions. My very spectacles +are toned by it. It is in every blue-book, in every +page of Hansard, in the preamble of every Bill.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh, dear pa!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>It sits with me in committees, accompanies me +into the lobbies; it receives deputations, replies to +questions in the House; it forms part of the deliberations +of the Cabinet. It warps my political sympathies; +it distorts my judgment; it obscures my +eloquence, and it lames my logic! [<i>Taking the letter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +from</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>.] And Mason—asks—me—to +consider it!</p> + +<p>[<i>Leans his head on his hands. She sits on the +arm of his chair.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Tearfully.</i>] Julian, you—mustn’t—give way. +Suppose the members of the Opposition saw you +like this.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>With a groan.</i>] Oh!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Think of those persons who sit—where is it?—on +the hatchway—or below the gangway, or some +uncomfortable place. How rejoiced they’d be! [<i>Shaking him gently.</i>] Have courage, Julian—perk +up, pa dear.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>I cannot go on, Kitty.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh, don’t say that!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Mason’s letter decides me.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>To do what!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Yield to a sentiment which I have reason to believe +exists on both sides of the House—<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>—</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Resign?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Resign my place in the Ministry—ask for the +Chiltern Hundreds——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Wind up my affairs in town——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh, no!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>And seek peace in rural retirement.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>You shan’t, pa! Oh, my gracious, you wouldn’t +be so heartless!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Heartless!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Kneeling beside him.</i>] Think of my blessed chicks—my +babies. Don’t go under, Julian, till we’ve given +them the benefit of our magnificent position——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Our mag——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Wait till my Brooky—our Brooky—has won some +handsome, wealthy girl who is worthy of him. Hold +on till Imogen has made a marriage that will make<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +every true mother’s mouth water. Then I’ll settle +down with you alone, in a marsh. But don’t sink +into obscurity till the end of the year! I can do +wonders by Christmas! Give me till then, pa—give +me till then!</p> + +<p>[<i>She throws her arms round his neck.</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen</span>’s <i>harp +is heard again.</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Gaylustre</span> <i>enters.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>The wretches! how they ignore me! [<i>Seeing</i> <span class="smcap">Sir +Julian</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>.] Ah!</p> + +<p>[<i>Hiding herself behind a pillar she listens.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>But—but—but if I desperately cling to public +life a little longer I must have money.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Of course—of course you must have money. But, +Julian, you must look to me for that.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>You, Katherine!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>You must think only of your value to the country, +and—leave the rest to your wife.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Kitty, you have made some little private hoard +out of your allowance!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Sinking faintly onto the settee.</i>] Well, pa.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>How prudent! How thoughtful!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Go—go to Dora. Make my excuses. I’ll follow +you when I’ve pulled myself together.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Yes, yes. [<i>Turning.</i>] By the way, Kitty, Hopwoods +have just sent in their bill for erecting this +conservatory.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Clinging to the back of the chair.</i>] Oh!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>You remember I transferred, at your request, +seven thousand some odd pounds to your account at +Scott’s when we projected the—h’m!—pardonable +little extravagance?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Y—yes.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Hopwoods can wait till midsummer. Perhaps +you wouldn’t mind letting me have the use of the +money in the meantime?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>No, certainly not.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>A cheque any day this week—<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>—</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>All days are equally convenient.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Kitty, I <i>will</i> hold on till Christmas!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Thank you, pa—I—— [<i>She turns to him suddenly.</i>] Oh, pa, I haven’t got—I haven’t—I——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Haven’t what, Kitty?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>N—nothing. Go—go to Dora. [<i>He goes out.</i>] Oh! +where shall I turn for money? Where shall I turn? +Where shall I turn—for money? [<span class="smcap">Mrs. Gaylustre</span> +<i>advances and faces</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>.] Ah! Mrs. +Gaylustre!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Oh, Lady Twombley, I am in such distress!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Distress!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>[<i>Producing</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>’s <i>letter to</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke</span>.] I +picked up a letter in the next room. I thought it +was the note you wrote me about the plum-coloured +<i>peignoir</i> and that it had fallen from my pocket. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> +glanced at it. Oh, look! [<i>She hands the letter to</i> +<span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Gracious!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>But that is not the worst. It tells me that you +are in trouble—you, the best friend I have in the +world, my benefactress. Oh, what shall I do?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Hold your tongue about it.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Ah! why did I read it through?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Because you were a little curious, I’m afraid.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>I shan’t sleep for it.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Thank you, I can do all my own lying awake. +Mind your own concerns for the future, Gaylustre.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>It <i>is</i> my concern when I can help you.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p><i>You</i> help me?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Ah, yes. Oh, let me, Lady Twombley! I don’t +ask to be confided in, I only ask to be allowed to +bring my brother to see you—to-night—to-morrow.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Your brother?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Mr. Lebanon—my Joseph. I would trust him as +I’d trust myself. I have known him do such +things in the way of raising money upon what he +calls personal and other security——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>A money-lender?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Lady Twombley! Oh!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Does Mr. Lebanon help—people—in difficulties?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Oh, doesn’t he!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Will you see him, Lady Twombley?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Don’t ask me. Perhaps.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>To-night?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Perhaps, I tell you.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>At what time?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Half-past nine—sharp.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>[<i>To herself.</i>] Done!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span> <i>enters with</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Macphail</span>, <span class="smcap">Macphail</span>, +<i>and the</i> <span class="smcap">Dowager</span>. <span class="smcap">Brooke</span> <i>follows with</i> <span class="smcap">Drumdurris</span>, +<i>then after an interval</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span>, +<span class="smcap">Egidia</span>, <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen</span> <i>appear.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>, <i>reprovingly.</i>] My dear, Lady +Macphail and Sir Colin are going.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>.] You are neglecting them. +What can be your motive?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Macphail</span>.] I hope Sir Julian has explained——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Certainly. But I must take my boy away. He +dines at six to avoid late hours.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Imogen</span> <i>talks to</i> <span class="smcap">Macphail</span>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>[<i>Quietly to</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>.] Look! they are +talking.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Colin rises at five every morning.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Dear me, how awful!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>He loves to watch the sunrise from the jagged +summit of Ben-na-fechan.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>But there’s no Ben-na-what-you-may-call-it here.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>No. But he sits upon the roof of our lodgings in +Clarges Street. Good-bye, Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>They shake hands.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Macphail</span>.] Good-bye. You must come and +see me on one of my Tuesdays.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Aye, with my mother.</p> + +<p>[<i>He turns to</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen</span>; <i>they shake hands.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Good-bye, Sir Colin.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>.] There again! look!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Why, here’s Valentine! Valentine!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Inquiringly.</i>] Valentine?</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Brooke</span> <i>brings on</i> <span class="smcap">Valentine</span>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke</span>.] Let me go! I was trying to find +my way out.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>.] Here’s Valentine, come +back.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Valentine!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Imogen!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Oh, my dear Val! My dear old Val!</p> + +<p>[<i>She rushes to him impulsively and flings her +arms round his neck, at which the</i> <span class="smcap">Dowager</span> +<i>gives a cry of horror, and there is a general +movement of astonishment.</i>]</p> + +<p class="center"><big>END OF THE FIRST ACT.</big></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_SECOND_ACT" id="THE_SECOND_ACT"></a>THE SECOND ACT.</h2> + +<p class="spkr"><big>Difficulties.</big></p> + +<p><i>The scene is a handsomely decorated and elegantly +furnished morning-room at</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Julian Twombley</span>’s, +<i>with every evidence of luxury and refined +taste. It is a July morning.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span> <i>is playing his flute.</i> <span class="smcap">Mr. Melton</span>, <i>a good-looking, +well-dressed young man, enters carrying a +few sheets of paper.</i></p> + + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Melton.</p> + +<p>Pardon me. [<span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span>’s <i>flute gives a squeak.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh, Melton?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Melton.</p> + +<p>The arrangements for this morning are quite +complete, Sir Julian.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>The arrangements?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Melton.</p> + +<p>The arrangements for the opening of the new +street.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh, to be sure; I open the new street to-day. +Why on earth shouldn’t a new street be opened by +a policeman during the night, quietly?</p> + +<p>[<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Dowager Lady Drumdurris</span>, <i>fashionably +dressed for out-of-doors, enters.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>[<i>In a flutter.</i>] Julian, good-morning. A glorious +day for the ceremony, Mr. Melton. Is everything +arranged?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Melton.</p> + +<p>[<i>Bowing.</i>] Everything.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>I have a motive for asking. I and my family +accompany Sir Julian and Lady Twombley to lend +weight and support.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Melton.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span>.] You leave here at twelve, reaching +the new street at half-past. You speak from the +cluster of lamps by St. Jude’s Church.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Your speech will be terse, elegant, and vigorous, +I hope, Julian?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>I hope so. Have you written it, Melton? [<span class="smcap">Melton</span> +<i>hands him the sheets of paper.</i>] Thank you. The +usual thing, I suppose?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Melton.</p> + +<p>Quite, quite.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Thank you. There’s nothing like the usual thing. [<i>Referring to the speech.</i>] “By opening up these +majestic avenues London takes beer——”</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Melton.</p> + +<p>Air.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>I beg your pardon. “——takes air into her system +and keeps her place in the race with her sister cities.” +Excellent.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Who will throw the bottle?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>No one, I hope.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Melton.</p> + +<p>You are thinking of the christening of a ship, +Lady Drumdurris.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Pardon me.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Melton.</p> + +<p>I have to see Superintendent Snudden now as to +the police arrangements.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Dear me! You anticipate no pellets?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Melton.</p> + +<p>Hardly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>It’s so unfortunate it isn’t a wet day.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Julian!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>An umbrella is such a safeguard.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Melton.</p> + +<p>I’ll see that the carriage closes easily.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Thank you. And Lady Twombley might take an +extra sunshade.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Melton</span> <i>goes out. The</i> <span class="smcap">Dowager</span> <i>closes the door +carefully after him.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Reading.</i>] “I can conceive no position more +agreeable to a Minister of the Crown than that +which——”</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Julian!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Dora?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>You wonder why I am with you at this early +hour. I need hardly say I have a motive.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>I suppose so.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Knowing that you were not going down to Browning +Street this morning, and that Lady Twombley +and Imogen were to take Euphemia shopping in +Bond Street, I grasped the chance of seeing you +alone. Julian, what has happened to your wife?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>To Katherine?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>There is a shocking change.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Recently?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>It began two or three months ago. She’s not the +woman she was at the commencement of the season.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>You alarm me. In what way?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Every way. Her appearance.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>I haven’t noticed it.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Being her husband, it is natural you should not. +Her variable temperament! At one moment she +looks as if she would like to bury everybody, me especially; +the next she is laughing in a manner I +must designate as positively provincial.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Dora, you quite distress me.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>I came early for that purpose.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Thank you.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Perhaps you resent my interference.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>No, no.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>It would not deter me if you did. The grand +motive of my life is a firm, undeviating, persistent +policy of practical interference. I am a social warrior; +the moment I scent domestic carnage I hurl +myself into the <i>mêlée</i> and plant my flag. Julian, +my flag is planted in your household.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>But I am aware of nothing disquieting to Katherine’s +peace of mind.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Don’t tell me!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Two or three months ago there <i>was</i> a little difficulty——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Ah!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>But it was mine, not Katherine’s.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Yours?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Frankly, I was embarrassed for ready money.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Oh, dear!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>But Katherine, who is really of an extremely +thrifty nature, promptly placed her very considerable +savings at my disposal, and the difficulty ceased.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>It never struck me your wife was thrifty.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Nor me till that moment. Which shows how +liable the most careful observer is to error. [<i>Resuming +the study of his speech.</i>] Pray excuse me.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>[<i>To herself.</i>] Um! [<i>She goes up to the window.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Studying.</i>] “I can conceive no position more +agreeable to a Minister of the <span class="nowrap">Crown——”</span> I’ll go +upstairs, quietly. <span class="nowrap">“——than</span> that which I occupy +upon this occasion.”</p> + +<p>[<i>He moves softly toward the door. The</i> <span class="smcap">Dowager</span> +<i>turns suddenly.</i>]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Julian!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Dora?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>I don’t like your wife’s great friendship for Mrs. +Gaylustre.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Katherine finds her a bright companion.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Katherine has <i>my</i> companionship. It’s true I +can’t cut a sleeve like that lady.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>It is to be regretted that poor Mrs. Gaylustre is +forced to follow the modern fashion of increasing +her income by devices formerly practised only by +the lower middle-classes.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>She sticks pins in her bosom as though she relished +it.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>But, after all, Dora, Madame Mauricette, of Plunkett +Street, and Mrs. Gaylustre, widow of Lord Bulpitt’s +son, are two very distinct persons. Excuse +me. [<i>He continues studying his speech.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>But what was she <i>before</i> her marriage?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>You must really give me notice of that question—I +beg your pardon—I don’t know.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>This lady now walks into your house as if it were +her own!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Ah!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Your wife is positively canvassing for invitations +for her! Julian!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>I shall be unprepared with my speech!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>My family comes before everything!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Probyn</span> <i>enters.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Probyn.</p> + +<p>Lord and Lady Drumdurris are inquiring for you, +my lady.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Beg them to come here. [<span class="smcap">Probyn</span> <i>retires.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Ah, then, if you’ll allow me——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>No, Julian. This is another family matter of terrible +importance.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>My dear Dora!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Keith and Egidia approach you at this early hour +at my instigation. I have a painful motive.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh, dear me!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Egidia</span> <i>enters, dressed in fashionable walking costume, +her face pale and troubled.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>[<i>Sadly.</i>] Sir Julian.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>My dear Egidia, there is nothing amiss, I hope?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>Ah! Everything is amiss, Sir Julian.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Julian, the relations between my son and his wife +have become terribly strained.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>No, no!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>Indeed, yes!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>I have done all in my power to relieve the horrible +tension—if anything, I have made matters +worse. My hope is now centred in you. Here is +Keith.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>Ah!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Egidia</span> <i>sits upon a settee staring before her.</i> <span class="smcap">Drumdurris</span> +<i>enters, looking much worried.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Ah, mother. [<i>Grasping</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span>’s <i>hand with +feeling.</i>] Sir Julian.</p> + +<p>[<i>He and his wife look severely at one another and +draw themselves up.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>My dear Keith, what can I do for you?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Ha! Explain, mother.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Julian, my son and his wife have cordially agreed +to refer their grave differences to your judgment.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>Without binding ourselves to abide by Sir Julian’s +decision.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Naturally.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Pray tell me the cause of dispute.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>The future of their child.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>Ah, yes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>The adjustment of the career he is to follow.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>That is precisely it.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Drumdurris</span>.] Where is Fergus?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>He accompanied us.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>He is with Angèle in the next room.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>[<i>Calling at the door.</i>] Angèle! Angèle!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Angèle.</p> + +<p>[<i>Outside.</i>] Miladi?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Bring Lord Aberbrothock here.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Angèle</span> <i>a French nurse, characteristically attired, +enters, carrying a richly-dressed infant.</i> <span class="smcap">Drumdurris</span> +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Egidia</span> <i>look into its face together.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Angèle.</p> + +<p lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Figurez-vous, milord, qu’il a dormi pendant tout +le trajet! et puis quand je suis descendue de voiture, +il s’est réveillé en pleurant ... ah mais, en pleurant!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Give me Lord Aberbrothock. [<i>She takes the child +from Angèle.</i>] Wait in the next room, Angèle.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Angèle.</p> + +<p>Yes, miladi. <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">J’espère bien que Monsieur le +Vicomte ne va plus crier, car ça pourrait faire de la +peine à sa grand’maman.</span> [<span class="smcap">Angèle</span> <i>goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Now, Julian, this is the point. You see Fergus. +Politics or the Army?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>Politics.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>The Army.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Pray speak, Julian.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Er—um—perhaps it would be rather precipitate——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>I differ entirely. The child’s intelligence must be +directed into a particular channel from the beginning.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>In that I heartily concur. For instance, the question +of toys is already most urgent.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>He is without playthings at present, so his mind +is quite open.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>You appear to have no views, Julian.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>Lady Drumdurris, let Sir Julian look at the +height and character of Fergus’s brow.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Pray do. It’s a soldier’s forehead.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Julian. [<i>She hands the infant to</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Julian.</span>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Thank you. Politics or the Army? [<i>Addressing +the child in his arms.</i>] My dear Fergus, take my +advice, not, <i>not</i> politics.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>Ah!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>If you attach any trifling importance to veracity +as a habit, <i>not</i> politics. If you would care at any +time upon any subject to form your own opinions, +and having formed them, would wish to maintain +them, <i>not</i> politics. If you desire to be of the smallest +service to your fellow man, and if you would sleep +as peacefully at sixty as you now sleep at six months, +<i>not</i> politics.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>Sir Julian!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>The Army!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>Never!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>This is most distressing. [<i>Calling at the open +door.</i>] Angèle! Angèle!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Heard outside.</i>] Why, Dora!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Katherine.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span> <i>enters with</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span> +<i>in walking costumes</i>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>How good of you to come early! [<i>Kissing</i> +<span class="smcap">Egidia.</span>] Egidia, dearest! [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Drumdurris.</span>] Good-morning, +Keith. Ah! you’ve brought Fergus to see +me! The angel!</p> + +<p>[<i>With cries of delight</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley, Imogen</span>, +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span> <i>gather round</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span> +<i>and the baby</i>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>The pet!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>The mite!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>He is <i>too</i> sweet!</p> + +<p class="spkr">The Three.</p> + +<p>Oh—h—h!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Brooke</span> <i>enters</i>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Shaking hands with</i> <span class="smcap">Drumdurris.</span>] Hallo, what’s +the matter?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>[<i>With dignity.</i>] They are looking at my son.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Angèle</span> <i>has entered. She takes the infant from</i> <span class="smcap">Sir +Julian.</span>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>We’ve enjoyed a splendid hour in Bond Street—in +and out of twenty shops, eh, girls?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Yes, Aunt Kate.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Yes, mamma.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Bought all we could think of and ordered the rest.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>My dear!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Then why don’t they abolish Bond Street? It’s +the crucible of London—set your foot in it and +everything about you that’s metal dissolves.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Aunt has been <i>too</i> extravagant this morning.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Extravagant! I! Oh, no—only I dearly wish +there was no such plague as money. If the little +words “thank you” were the one universal current +coin, what anxieties, what cravings, what follies +some poor women would be spared! Why can’t +we buy choice stuffs at three-and-a-half thank-yous +a yard?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Oh, Aunt Kate!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Mamma!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>It’s nothing to laugh at. Ah, girls, if “thank +you” paid for everything, being out of breath would +be our only bankruptcy! Oh, my poor brain!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span>.] Mamma has a bad headache +to-day, papa.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>A headache! never! Girls, what is it we bought +and brought home with us? I forget.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>We didn’t buy him, mamma—we met him. You +mean Cousin Valentine.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Looking round.</i>] Of course—Valentine. Where +is he? [<i>Calling.</i>] Valentine!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Valentine</span> <i>enters very plainly dressed.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Mr. White! [<i>Bowing stiffly.</i>] How do you do?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Why, Val! What?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>We met the poor boy outside the tourists’ ticket +office in Piccadilly. He’s off again to-morrow.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Off! Where to?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Egypt.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>We shan’t see him again for another ten years, I +suppose.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Oh, mamma!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>The odd creature has heard of a congenial tribe +who reside in excavations cut in a rock. It’ll end in +my having a nephew who’s a mummy.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>[<i>Tearfully.</i>] Oh, don’t!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Katherine, this child is not well.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Yes, I am, papa—but I don’t like—the idea—of +parting—with anybody or anything—even a k-k-kitten.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Soothingly.</i>] Imogen, my dear!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Be quiet, mamma!</p> + +<p>[<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Dowager</span>, <span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span>, <span class="smcap">Egidia</span>, <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Angèle</span> +<i>with the baby go out.</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen</span> <i>runs after +them.</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span> <i>resumes the study of his +speech.</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span> <i>opens some letters +which are lying on the table.</i>]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Valentine</span>.] I never knew such a queer chap! +Come upstairs and tell us all about it—what!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Brooke</span>, <span class="smcap">Valentine</span>, <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Drumdurris</span> <i>go out.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Katherine?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>It’s all right, pa—it’s nothing. [<i>To herself.</i>] Gaylustre! [<i>Reading a letter.</i>] “I will accompany +you and dear Sir Julian to the interesting ceremony +of this morning. Pray keep me a seat in your carriage.” [<i>Crushing the letter in her hand.</i>] The demon! +The relentless demon!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>“I can conceive no position more agreeable to a +Minister of the Crown——”</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Pa, dear, Mrs. Gaylustre will go with us to the +opening of the new street.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>H’m! Katherine, are you sure that Mrs. Gaylustre +is <i>quite</i>——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh, quite.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>If I were you I should really think twice—<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>—</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh, I can’t.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Can’t think twice?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I can’t risk offending such a—dear friend.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>But, Katherine——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Understand me, pa—she will sit in our carriage.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Then understand <i>me</i>, Katherine, I will not have +my knees cramped by a lady whose social status is +equivocal.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Ah! Julian! Don’t attempt to come between me +and Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Katherine!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>You will assist her into the carriage, you will help +her to alight; when she arrives you will be charmed +to see her, when she leaves you will be a mass of +regret. You hear me!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>This is a most extraordinary friendship!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>It <i>is</i> an exceptional friendship. Pa, say you’re +delighted this great friend of mine is to be one of +us to-day.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Well, to please you, my dear, of course, I——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Yes?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>I am delighted.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Ah!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>To himself.</i>] I see—I see the change in my +wife that Dora spoke of.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Probyn</span> <i>enters with cards on a salver. At the same +moment the</i> <span class="smcap">Dowager</span> <i>enters and looks out of the +window.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>[<i>To herself.</i>] They are punctual!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Looking at the cards.</i>] Lady Macphail and Sir +Colin. Not at home. If ever a woman was out I am.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Probyn</span>.] Stop! [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>.] Kate, +what are you doing? This visit is planned by me!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Why?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>I have a motive.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh, Dora!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Probyn</span>.] Lady Twombley will see Sir Colin +and Lady Macphail here. [<span class="smcap">Probyn</span> <i>goes out</i>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Ah! then, if you’ll allow me——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>No, Julian. This is another family matter.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Another!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>These people have called to formally propose for +the hand of Imogen.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>To propose!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Last night, at the ball of the Perth Highlanders, +I danced the Strathspey and Reel with Sir Colin. In +the excitement I wrung from him an admission of his +affection.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Pa, what shall we do?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Do? The head of the Clan Macphail! Eighty +thousand acres! Julian?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>To herself.</i>] If it would provide for Imogen before +the smash!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>If Imogen is a high-minded girl she will be mad +with delight.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Will she? [<i>To herself.</i>] Ah! and will she learn +to look down on pa and me when we’re aged +paupers?</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Probyn</span> <i>enters</i>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Probyn.</p> + +<p>Sir Colin Macphail—Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Macphail</span> <i>enters, dressed simply and quaintly +in an old-fashioned silk gown, followed closely +by</i> <span class="smcap">Macphail</span>, <i>whose clothes are capacious and +clumsy, and who seems very ill at ease</i>. <span class="smcap">Probyn</span> +<i>withdraws</i>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Dear Lady Macphail—Sir Colin!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Shaking hands with</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Macphail</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Macphail</span>.] How do you do? [<i>Eyeing</i> <span class="smcap">Macphail.</span>] Oh, dear!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Shaking hands.</i>] Delighted.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Macphail</span>.] Pray sit down. You must be +fatigued with last night’s dance.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>No Macphail is ever fatigued. But the poor lad +feels like a caged eagle in the dress of the South.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I am sure it is—most becoming.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Sit, lad. [<span class="smcap">Macphail</span> <i>sits, hitching up his trousers +unhappily</i>.] You know the object of our visit, Sir +Julian?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Lady Drumdurris has hinted——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>The boy is here to pour out the passionate torrent +of his love for your child Imogen. Speak, Colin.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Macphail</span> <i>rouses himself, rises, and looks round</i>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Mother, you do it. [<i>He resumes his seat.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Ah, if we were at Castle Ballocheevin, with the +wind roaring round Ben Muchty, and the sound of +the pipers playing by the shores of Loch-na-Doich, +then you would hear Colin’s voice rise loud and high.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>As we are denied these obvious advantages, it is +almost necessary to ask you to explain—<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>—</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>The lad has met your child on but three or four +occasions.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Just three occasions and a bit, mother.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>But he loves her with a love that only a Macphail +can experience.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Of course one would like to know precisely the +kind of affection that is.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Naturally. Speak, Colin.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Macphail</span> <i>rises, embarrassed</i>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>I love her well enough.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Bravely said!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Delightful. [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Macphail</span>.] +A grand nature.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Go on, Colin.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>That’s all, mother. [<i>He resumes his seat.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>.] You have heard the lad?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Distinctly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>As we are all to meet next month as Lord Drumdurris’s +guests at Drumdurris Castle, it would be +well if this engagement were settled at once.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Without delay.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>The question, of course, is whether Imogen—h’m!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Whether Imogen can return the affection——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Which Sir Colin honours her by entertaining.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Has the lad your permission to pour into her ear +such impassioned words as he has just uttered to +us?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I think there can be no objection to <i>that</i>.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Certainly not.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>When will your daughter grant him an hour for +that purpose?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>An <i>hour</i>?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Three-quarters will be enough, mother.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Bravely said!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Charming!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>When, Julian?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>H’m! when?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>When? [<span class="smcap">Imogen</span>’s <i>voice is heard outside.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>[<i>Calling.</i>] Mamma, dear!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>When? I suggest, now. Here is Imogen.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Macphail</span> <i>rises hastily and awkwardly.</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen</span> <i>enters.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Oh, I didn’t know you had visitors. [<i>Shaking +hands with</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Colin</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Macphail</span>.] Sir Colin—Lady +Macphail.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Now, Julian, leave them together! Katherine!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Imogen, my dear.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Imogen</span> <i>comes to</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span>. <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>, +<i>the</i> <span class="smcap">Dowager</span>, <span class="smcap">Lady Macphail</span>, <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Macphail</span> +<i>talk together.</i>]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Talk to Sir Colin for a few moments while I look +through my speech.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Certainly, papa. [<span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span> <i>goes out.</i>] What +an awful task! [<i>Taking a book from the table.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>[<i>Quietly to</i> <span class="smcap">Macphail</span>.] Colin, let her hear how a +Macphail can love. [<i>Kissing him.</i>] My boy! [<i>To +the</i> <span class="smcap">Dowager</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>.] I’ll drive round +to Lady Macwhirter’s and return. Leave them! +Ah, the pipers shall play to the home-coming of a +bride at Castle Ballocheevin! [<i>She goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Come, Katherine. Think of it! To be the +mother-in-law of the head of the Clan Macphail!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Dora, what’s the use of a head with no tongue in +it?</p> + +<p>[<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Dowager</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span> <i>go out.</i> +<span class="smcap">Macphail</span> <i>looks round uneasily.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>[<i>To himself.</i>] Where’s mother?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>[<i>To herself.</i>] Oh, why do they leave us! [<i>To</i> +<span class="smcap">Macphail</span>.] Were you at the dance of the Perth +Highlanders last night, Sir Colin?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Aye, I was.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Did you dance much?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Aye, I did.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>[<i>To herself.</i>] He must make the next remark.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>[<i>Nerving himself and rising suddenly.</i>] Miss +Twombley!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Sir Colin!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>I—I just wish you had been there.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Do you? Why?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Because—because—because I’m thinking there +was room for more people.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Oh, of course. [<i>She goes to the window and looks +out.</i>] Lady Macphail is just driving away.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>No!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Yes, there she goes.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Macphail</span> <i>goes hastily to the window and looks +out.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>[<i>To himself.</i>] Oh! Mother!</p> + +<p>[<i>He goes out quickly unnoticed by</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen</span>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>She has turned the corner, Sir Colin. Did you +see her? Why, where is he?</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Valentine</span> <i>enters. She does not see him.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Good-bye, Imogen. [<i>She turns to him.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Ah! [<i>Falteringly.</i>] Why will you go away, Val?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>You know my craze. Everything in this country +is so stuck-up.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Mamma’s not—stuck-up, as you call it.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Her gowns frighten me. My first recollection of +anything is Aunt Kitty in a print-skirt at a wash-tub.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Hush! don’t, Val!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>There now! you’re horrified!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>One doesn’t wish everybody to know.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Then that’s being stuck-up, Imogen.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Then we differ.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Of course. Everybody does differ from me in +this stuck-up country. Wish me good-bye.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>[<i>Looking away.</i>] I presume my brother Brooke +is stuck-up also?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Well, he appears to have fallen into the starch after +that wash of Aunt Kitty’s.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Indeed. And papa?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Oh, of course, he’s ironed out by the House of +Commons.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>How very rude! [<i>Laying her hand on his arm.</i>] And am I—altered, Val?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Altered! The change is heart-breaking!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Oh, how cruel!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Altered! Where are the tiny tea-things with +which you once played at making tea in your old +school-room? Where is the hoop you used to trundle +in Portman Square—the skipping-rope Brooke +and I turned for you till our arms nearly dropped +from our shoulders? Where are the marbles I gave +you—the top I taught you to spin? I say, where +are these things and the jolly little girl who delighted +in them?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>[<i>With much dignity.</i>] I think you’re so violent +that it isn’t safe to speak to you. But I’ll ask you +one question.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Pray do.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Where is the good-tempered, curly-headed boy +for whom I used to make the tea; the boy who +taught me, very patiently, how to play the marbles +and to spin the top?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>You see him.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Oh, no. No, Val, no.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Imogen! You don’t mean, at any rate, that I’m +stuck-up?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>No, indeed, I think you’re shockingly stuck-down. [<i>He turns away, hanging his head. She comes to +him.</i>] There, now I’ve made you ashamed of yourself.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>No, you haven’t!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Then I will do so. Remain here. I will return +in a moment. Don’t stir! [<i>She runs out.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Shall I run away? Ah, if she only knew how ardently +I wish that she had changed still more—how +I wish that she had grown quite unlovable or I had +forgotten how to love her! It’s hopeless; I <i>will</i> +run away.</p> + +<p>[<i>He opens the door and the</i> <span class="smcap">Dowager</span> <i>peeps in.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>May I come in?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Eh? Oh, certainly.</p> + +<p>[<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Dowager</span> <i>enters.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>[<i>To herself.</i>] What has become of them? [<i>To</i> +<span class="smcap">Valentine</span>.] Pardon me, have you seen my niece, +Imogen?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>She has just left this room.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>With Sir Colin Macphail?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Oh, no.</p> + +<p>[<i>A cab whistle is heard.</i> <span class="smcap">Valentine</span> <i>looks out of +the window.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>[<i>To herself.</i>] Where is he? I shan’t sleep till I +know it is settled.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Here’s Sir Colin—hailing a cab.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Ah! Something must have happened! [<i>She goes +hastily towards the door;</i> <span class="smcap">Valentine</span> <i>is in her way.</i>] Let me pass, please! I have a motive!</p> + +<p>[<i>She goes out as</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen</span> <i>enters by another door carrying +a large old-fashioned box.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Valentine.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Why, what have you there?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>A modern young lady’s jewel casket. Open it, +please. [<i>Kneeling, he opens the box.</i>]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>[<i>Looking into the box.</i>] Imogen! The tea-things! +I recognize them!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>You see, I’ve never parted with my playthings, +Val.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>[<i>Dragging out a large, faded, once gaudy doll.</i>] And +here’s Rosa! I helped to cut out Rosa’s mantle. +Battered old Rosa!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>[<i>Taking the doll from him.</i>] Don’t! Old she may +be, but her sex should protect her from insult.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>And here are my marbles! and the top! Ah, ah! +the skipping-rope! Imogen—perhaps—I—I’ve +done you an injustice.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Do you think so?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>I feared fashion had put your bright little nature +into tight corsets—but—I see—I see——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>[<i>Replacing the toys in the box.</i>] You see, Val.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>I see you have some affection for the time when +you were not Miss Twombley, but only—little +Jenny.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Ah!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Not that these old dumb things prove much.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Oh, Val!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>They prove their own existence—not the existence +of little Jenny.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>[<i>Crying.</i>] How unjust you are!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Perhaps. But your words and actions are so unlike.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>[<i>Wiping her eyes upon the doll’s frock.</i>] No, no.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>I fancy we are children again when I hear you; +but when I see your prim figure and stately walk I +miss the little girl whose hair never submitted to a +ribbon or a hairpin——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Oh!</p> + +<p>[<i>Impulsively she lets down her hair and disorders +it wildly.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>[<i>Not observing her.</i>] I miss the little Jenny with +a tumbled frock, [<i>She quickly disarranges her bow +and sash.</i>] the thoughtless romp who was generally +minus one shoe!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>[<i>Fiercely.</i>] Valentine!</p> + +<p>[<i>She takes off a shoe and flings it away.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Jenny!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Now! play! play marbles!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>What!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Play marbles!</p> + +<p>[<i>They go down upon their knees, she deliberately +arranges the marbles for the game, he staring +at her blankly.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>My mark—play.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>I beg your pardon, Jenny—I’ve been all wrong.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>You have indeed, Val. Play. [<i>He plays seriously.</i>] Not within a mile of it.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>My eye is quite out.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>My turn.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>By Jupiter, you’re still a crack at it!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Am I? Then which of us has changed—you or +I? [<i>She lays her hand on his.</i>] Val, don’t go away +and live in a rock.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>What am I to do? I’m poor, Jenny, and I suppose +I’m crazy.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Any sort of horrid life would suit you, wouldn’t +it?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>I suppose it would.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Then ask Lord Drumdurris to make you a bailiff +or a head gamekeeper at Drumdurris.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Not rough enough.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Why, you could get dreadfully dirty and wet +through there every day.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>That’s true.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>And, Val, we’re all going up to Drumdurris next +month.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Are you?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Yes, and if you like, I—I’ll bring the marbles.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Brooke</span> <i>enters.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Imogen! Oh, I say! what?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Do you ever play marbles now, Brooke?</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Drumdurris</span> <i>enters.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Marbles, no! Billiards.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Valentine</span> <i>collects the marbles, and puts them +into the box.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Drumdurris</span>.] Keith! Oh, Keith, do me a +favour!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Certainly.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Offer my poor cousin, Mr. White, some post in or +about Drumdurris Castle.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>What kind of post?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Some wretched, inferior position in which he +needn’t be very polite.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>What will he say if I propose such a thing?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>He’ll be extremely rude, I think. But, oh, I +shall be so grateful, Keith.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span> <i>enters.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Imogen! Child, what has happened to your +head?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>I—I’ve been playing marbles, mamma.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Not on your head?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>No, mamma, upon the floor.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>With Sir Colin?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Certainly not, mamma; I don’t know Sir Colin +nearly well enough to sit with him upon the floor. +[<i>Putting up her hair.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Darling, has Sir Colin made any remark of an interesting +nature?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>No—he stammered a little, and, while my back +was turned, he ran away after his mammy.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>To herself.</i>] I knew it! Why didn’t we lock him +in till he had provided for my poor child’s future?</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Probyn</span> <i>enters.</i>]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Probyn.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gaylustre is here, my lady.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Oh, that person!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Imogen</span> <i>snatches up the box of playthings and hurries +out.</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Gaylustre</span> <i>enters.</i> <span class="smcap">Probyn</span> <i>retires.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>[<i>To everybody.</i>] How d’ye do? How d’ye do? +Lord Drumdurris, charmed to see you. How are +you, Brooke?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>To himself.</i>] Brooke! Impudence!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>You look bilious, Kate.</p> + +<p>[<i>She kisses</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>, <i>who sinks on to the +settee.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Drumdurris</span>.] It’s too bad of the Mater! +Fancy a fellow making a chum of his tailor—what?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Mr. White, may I speak to you?</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Brooke</span>, <span class="smcap">Drumdurris</span>, <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Valentine</span> <i>go out.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>[<i>Examining the flute.</i>] Pa has been tootling +again, Kate—we must buy him a drum.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Ah—h—h—h!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Hullo! What’s the matter?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>As if you didn’t know! Oh, those awful bits of +paper!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Still worrying about those little Bills of yours +which my brother Joseph holds, eh?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Those Bills! Why doesn’t the ink fade that’s on +them, or the house burn that holds ’em?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Impossible. Joseph and I have been taught to +believe that there is a special Providence watching +over all Bills of Exchange. Come, don’t fume—Bill +Number One doesn’t fall due till next month.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh, Gaylustre, I shan’t be able to meet it.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Shan’t you? Well, I dare say Jo and I will renew—if +you make much of us and pet us. Meanwhile, +don’t think of the Bills.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Think of ’em! I eat them—they’re on every +<i>ménu</i>; I drink them—they label the champagne. +My pillows are stuffed with them, for I hear their +rustle when I turn my restless head. Small as those +strips of blue are, they paper every wall of my +home!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>I should drive out, then, as much as possible.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>When I do the sky is blue!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>[<i>Carelessly taking up a newspaper.</i>] At what time +do we leave here?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Sir Julian and I start at twelve.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>See that I’m not squeezed up in the carriage. I +don’t play at sardines in this gown.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Talking of sardines, I shall lunch here to-day, <i>en +famille</i>.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Gaylustre! you fiend! I—I can’t stand it.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Don’t quite see how you’re going to get out of it.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>It’s true I owe that brother of yours thousands.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Well, we <i>have</i> kept your establishment going for +some time.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>But I don’t owe <i>you</i> as much as a linen button!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Jo and I are one.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>No! I’ll never believe that a man—even a +money-lender—would dance a set of devilish quadrilles +on a lady when she’s down, as you’re doing.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Ha, ha!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I saw your brother on that one fatal night. Common +person that he is, he must have a heart under +his vulgar waistcoat.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Be careful! Don’t insult my Jo!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I compliment him! I will appeal to him to protect +me from your claws, Gaylustre!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Oh, you will, will you?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I will.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Very well then—do it! Kate Twombley, go to +that door and call my brother Jo!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>What!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Do it!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>What—do you—mean?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Open that door and call Jo!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>No, no! [<i>She opens the door and looks out.</i>] You are only frightening me!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Call—Mr. Lebanon!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Mr. Lebanon!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>[<i>Outside.</i>] Heah!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span> <i>utters a cry of horror as</i> <span class="smcap">Mr. Joseph +Lebanon</span> <i>enters—a smartly dressed, unctuous, +middle-aged person, of a most pronounced common +Semitic type, with a bland manner and a contented +smile.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Lady Twombley, delighted to find myself in your +elegant ’ouse. Most <i>recherché</i>.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>How do you come here?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Fan brought me.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>How dare she?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>’Ow dare she? H’m! Fan, I ’ope and trust not +a coolness between you and Lady T.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span> <i>sinks into a chair.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>She was dying to see you—there’s no pleasing +her.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Dyin’ to see me! Flattered—flattered. [<i>He sits in +close proximity to</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>.] Deah Lady T, +you and I and nobody by, eh? Excuse my humour. +’Ow can I ’ave the honour of servin’ you? Don’t +’esitate, Lady T, don’t ’esitate.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I only wanted—to beg you—to rid me of that +viper.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>That’s going a little too far!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>There <i>is</i> a coolness—a triflin’, temporary coolness. +Fan, be reasonable—Lady T, be forgivin’. Kiss and +be friends.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I know that you’ve got me—what’s the expression?—on +something or another.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>I ’ope “toast” is not the word you requiah, Lady +Twombley?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh, yes, on toast.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Oh, Lady T.! Lady T.!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I know that if I can’t meet those awful Bills you +can drag my name into the papers, and set all London +grinning for a month.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Oh! Oh, Fan, is that my way of doin’ business?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>If you’re a nice, honest man—as you look—you’ll +take her away, and never, either of you, show your +ugl—show your faces here again.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Ah, Lady T., now we come to the aim and object +of the mornin’ call which I have the ’appiness of +making on you. Fan, you haven’t explained to Lady +T. You really must cut in.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>I shan’t. Explain yourself.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lebanon</span> <i>rises, replacing his chair.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>My dear Lady T., the long and the short of it is +that Fan and I have considerable social ambition.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>You too! Not <i>you</i>!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>And why not? Fanny, cut in!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Go on, Jo dear.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Lady Twombley, it has been the desiah of Fan +and self, ever since that period of our lives which I +may describe as our checkered child’ood, to reach +the top of the social tree.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Hah!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Lady Twombley, you’ll pardon my remarking that +you are a little trying. I say, Fan and I desiah to +reach the top of the social tree, where the cocoanuts +are. Excuse my humour. Fan’s had a whirl or two +in the circles of fashion.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>She! A hanger-on to the skirts of Society!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>And very good skirts too when she makes ’em.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Jo, drop that.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Excuse my humour, Fan. As for me, from those +early boy’ood’s days when I made temporary ad<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>vances +of ha’pence to my sister Fanny, promptly and +without inquiry, I have devoted myself to finance.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Finance!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>But now, Lady T—to use a poetic figure—I am +prepared to cut an eight on the frozen lake of +gentility.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Man!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>I ignore the innuendo. Lady Twombley, I am +aware that for a successful <i>entrée</i> into Society I +requiah a—ha—a substantial guarantee. I ’ave, +therefore, the honour and the ’appiness to put myself +under your sheltering and I ’ope sympathetic wing.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>You—you will drive me mad! You won’t dare to +call here, to contaminate my bell-handle, to send up +your hideous name!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Oh, Fan, I really can’t! This is descendin’ to a +mere wrangle. Pray cut in.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>No, Lady Twombley, as the Season is drawing to +a close, Joseph certainly does not intend to attach +himself to your London establishment.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Not for Joseph—excuse my humour.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>But he and I do mean to take our flight from +town with the rest of the swallows. [<i>Pointing to a +paragraph in the journal she still carries.</i>] Look here, +we saw this paragraph in the paper yesterday. +Read it.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span> <i>knocks the paper to the ground.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Insolent!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Jo, pet—read it.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Fanny, this is really most trying. [<i>Picking up the +paper and reading.</i>] “There are already signs of an +exodus from town. Among the first of the notabilities +to turn their faces northward are Sir +Julian and Lady Twombley, who will spend the +autumn at Drumdurris Castle as the guests of +their nephew, Lord Drumdurris.”</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>What is this to you?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>What’s that to us!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Fan, what’s that to us! Lady Twombley, we entertain +a not unreasonable desiah to spend <i>our</i> autumn +at Drumdurris Castle.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>In the kitchen?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Oh, Fan, I really can’t! You must cut in again.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>As the guests of Lord Drumdurris.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Never!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Bill Number One falls due next month when you +are at Drumdurris Castle!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>No, no! Fan, do <i>not</i> mix up business with friendship. +You know my rule.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Get us to Drumdurris and we renew!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Oh, Fanny, how plainly you put it! Don’t!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Never!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Mr. Melton</span> <i>enters.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Melton.</p> + +<p>The carriages are here, Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I—I’ll come.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Drumdurris</span> <i>enters talking to</i> <span class="smcap">Valentine</span>. <span class="smcap">Imogen</span>, +<span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span>, <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke</span> <i>follow; then</i> <span class="smcap">Egidia</span> +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Angèle</span> <i>with the infant.</i>]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>.] Introduce me!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Never!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>.] Introduce him!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I will not!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Lady Twombley!</p> + +<p>[<i>He produces his pocketbook, opens it, and gives +her a glimpse of the Bills.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>The Bills! Oh!</p> + +<p>[<i>She makes a futile snatch at the pocketbook.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Lady Twombley, introduce me!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span> <i>enters, intent upon his speech, the MS. of +which he carries in his hand.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>To himself.</i>] “I can conceive no position more +agreeable to a Minister of the Crown——” [<i>Seeing</i> +<span class="smcap">Lebanon</span>.] Eh?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>[<i>Whispering to</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>.] Now!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Julian, Lord Drumdurris, Brooke, let me introduce +to you—Mr. Lebanon.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>[<i>Triumphantly to herself.</i>] Ah!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>[<i>Triumphantly to himself.</i>] Ah! [<span class="smcap">Lebanon</span> <i>grasps</i> +<span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span>’s <i>hand warmly.</i>] De-lighted to find +myself in your elegant ’ouse. Most <i>recherché</i>. [<i>Shaking +hands with all the others.</i>] You all know my +sister Fan. Elegant ’ouse this. Most <i>recherché</i>.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Mrs. Gaylustre</span> <i>runs to</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span> <i>and taking +a flower from her dress fastens it in his coat.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>[<i>Outside.</i>] Katherine!</p> + +<p>[<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Dowager</span> <i>enters with her arm through</i> <span class="smcap">Macphail</span>’s, +<span class="smcap">Lady Macphail</span> <i>following.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>I’ve found the truant. He had a motive.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>[<i>Quietly to</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Gaylustre</span>.] Who’s the Judy?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Lebanon</span>.] Old Lady Drum.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Ah! [<i>Turning to the</i> <span class="smcap">Dowager</span> <i>and seizing her +hand.</i>] De-lighted! ’Ope to have the pleashah of +meetin’ you up North.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Katherine!</p> + +<p>[<i>There is a general expression of astonishment, +and</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span> <i>sinks upon the settee.</i>]</p> + + +<p class="center"><big>END OF THE SECOND ACT.</big></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_THIRD_ACT" id="THE_THIRD_ACT"></a>THE THIRD ACT.</h2> + +<p class="spkr"><big>Disaster.</big></p> + +<p><i>The scene is the inner hall at Drumdurris Castle, +Perthshire, leading on one side to the outer hall, +and on the other to the picture gallery. It is +solidly and comfortably furnished, and a fire is +burning in the grate of the large oaken fireplace. +It is an afternoon in August.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Imogen</span> <i>is sitting at the table reading over a letter she +has written.</i></p> + + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>“Dear Mr. White.” I shall never call him Valentine +again, except in my thoughts. [<i>Reading.</i>] “Dear Mr. White, I am sorry to hear that you are +discontented with your recent appointment to the +Deputy-Assistant-Head-Gamekeepership on the +Drumdurris estate, and that you consider it a sinecure +fit only for a debilitated peer.” Now for it. [<i>Resuming.</i>] “Permit me to take this opportunity of +informing you that I have at length consented to an +engagement between myself and Sir Colin Macphail +of Ballocheevin.” Oh, how awful it looks in ink! [<i>Resuming.</i>] “As it is becoming that I should support +such a position with dignity I would prefer +not encountering your dislike to ‘stuck-up people’ +by ever seeing you again.” Oh, Val. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span>“I therefore +suggest that you obtain a nastier appointment +than that of Deputy-Assistant-Head-Gamekeeper at +Drumdurris without delay.” That will do—beautifully. [<i>In tears.</i>] Oh, Val, why have you never +spoken? I know you are poor, but I would have +gone away with you and lived cheerfully and economically +in that rock if you had but asked me. +Why, why have you never asked me?</p> + +<p>[<i>She sits on a footstool looking into the fire.</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke</span>, +<i>in shooting dress, strolls in with</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span>. +<i>They do not see </i><span class="smcap">Imogen</span>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Coolly.</i>] Well, then, Effie, I suppose I may regard +our engagement as a fixture—what? I needn’t +say you’ll find me an excellent husband.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Thanks, awfully. But perhaps you had better +mention the subject to me again at some other +time.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Well, I shall be rather busy for the next week or +two.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Oh, quite as you please. [<i>Giving him her hand.</i>] But you are really <i>too</i> impetuous.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Not at all. [<i>About to kiss her.</i>] You’ll permit me, +naturally?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>[<i>Languidly turning her cheek toward him.</i>] Of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> +course. Be careful of my hair—it will not be +dressed again before lunch.</p> + +<p>[<i>He kisses her cheek cautiously.</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen</span> <i>rises +without seeing them</i>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke</span>.] Somebody.</p> + +<p>[<i>They stroll away in opposite directions</i>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>After all, as he has never been a lover, why +shouldn’t I see him and mention my engagement in +a calm, cool, ladylike way? [<i>Tearing up the letter +passionately.</i>] I must see him once more—in a +calm, cool, ladylike way. I’ll write just a line asking +him to come to me this morning.</p> + +<p>[<i>As she sits to write</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke</span> +<i>stroll in again and meet each other</i>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke</span>.] Good-morning.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span>.] Good-morning.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Why, it’s Imogen! Oh, let me congratulate you. [<i>Kissing her.</i>] The news is too delightful.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Thank you.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Accept my congratulations also. Splendid fellow, +Macphail; not one of those men who talk the top of +your head off.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>[<i>Writing.</i>] No, not quite. Brooke, dear, will +you give Mr. White a little note from me?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Certainly. By the bye, while I think of it, you’ll +be glad to hear that Effie has honored me by consenting +to—er—marry me—what!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Effie!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>How your mind does run on that subject, Brooke!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>[<i>Throwing her arms round</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia’s</span> <i>neck.</i>] What happy people, both of you!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>My hair!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>[<i>Kissing</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke.</span>] A thousand congratulations, +my dear, clever, old brother!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>The bother with mamma will be too wearying.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Why a bother?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>About my pecuniary position, don’t you know. +You’ll hardly credit it, but I haven’t the least idea +what pa intends to do for me.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>But it doesn’t matter about that, so that you are +deeply attached to each other.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Oh, Imogen, that’s <i>too</i> ridiculous!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Quite absurd—what!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Besides, if you want money you can work.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh, it’s no good everybody working. It’s this +stupid all-round desire to work that throws so many +men out of employment. I’ll look for Valentine. [<span class="smcap">Imogen</span> <i>gives him her note.</i>] He’s sure to be about. +We’re going to shoot over Claigrossie Moor this +morning. [<i>He goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>So you’ve made up your mind at last?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>No; other people have made it up for me.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Mamma?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Yes, Aunt Dora is the principal person who has +rendered my life a burden to me.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Oh, Imogen!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>It’s true. Every hour of the livelong day Aunt +Dora has goaded me on to this desirable, detestable +match; even at night she has stalked into my +room with a lighted candle, startling me out of my +beauty sleep, to tell me she will never rest till I am +Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Imogen, it’s <i>too</i> kind of mamma to take this interest +in you.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Interest! It’s torture. And at last she threatened +that if I married anybody else she would expire +in great pain and appear to me constantly, a +ghost, in her night-gown. Well, you’ve seen Aunt +Dora in her night-gown—you can guess my feelings.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>And that decided you.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>I went to mamma and asked her advice.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>I guess what that was.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Mamma’s expression was that she’d give the heels +off her best shoes to see me provided for. And so, +late last night, while my maid Phipps was washing +my head, I gasped out a soapy sort of yes.</p> + +<p>[<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Dowager</span> <i>enters.</i>]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Where is Imogen?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Here, mamma.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>[<i>Embracing</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen.</span>] My favorite niece! I have +just learned your decision over the breakfast-table. +I was eating cold grouse at the moment; I thought +I should have choked.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>I hope you are satisfied, aunt.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Thoroughly. I feel now that I shall die, a great +many years hence, a contented woman. Effie.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Yes, mamma?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Don’t think you’re neglected, child. I cannot +provide for everybody at once.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>No, mamma.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>But having completely settled Imogen, I shall +commence the adjustment of your future after lunch.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Macphail</span> <i>enters.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Ah!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Dear Lady Macphail! What glorious news!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>[<i>Rapturously, with her hand upraised.</i>] Now let +the worn banner of the Macphail be run up on the +crumbling tower of Castle Ballocheevin!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Certainly—by all means.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Now let the roar of the pipes startle the eaglets on +the summit of black Ben-Muchty!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>I hope such arrangements will be made.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Let the shriek of the wild birds resound on the +shores of Loch-na-Doich!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>[<i>Bringing</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen</span> <i>forward</i>.] But you haven’t seen +Imogen yet.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>[<i>Embracing her.</i>] Child! Ah, when Colin learns +your answer to his suit you shall listen to such words +as none but a Macphail can utter to his betrothed.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Doesn’t he know?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Not yet. He went out early to watch the sun +gild the gray peak of Ben-Auchter.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span> <i>enters, looking very troubled.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Mamma. [<span class="smcap">Lady Macphail</span>, <i>the</i> <span class="smcap">Dowager</span>, <i>and</i> +<span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span> <i>talk together.</i>] Mamma, everybody +has congratulated me. Have you nothing to say?</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span> <i>places her hand fondly on</i> +<span class="smcap">Imogen</span>’s <i>head.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>In a sepulchral voice.</i>] Did Phipps dry your head +thoroughly last night?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Yes, mamma.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Then all’s well, I suppose. [<span class="smcap">Sir Julian’s</span> <i>flute is +heard. To herself.</i>] The first Bill—the first Bill due +next week.</p> + +<p>[<i>She sits staring at the fire as</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span> <i>enters, +playing the flute.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Papa.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Imogen, my dear, amidst severe official worries<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> +I must not omit to join in the general pæan of rejoicing.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Thank you, papa.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Sir Colin may lack that inexhaustible flow of +anecdote with which I have often been credited.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>He may, papa.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>But I confess I respect a man who will sit for +hours without saying anything. I wish there were +more like him in the House.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Julian, let the newspapers have the details of +Imogen’s engagement without delay.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Oh, no, aunt! Not yet.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Imogen, if I may use such an expression—fall-lall! +Suffice it, I have a motive.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>But why the papers?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>It is our duty to our friends. Do you think if +anything serious happened to me, my friends +wouldn’t like to hear of it without delay? Julian! [<span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span> <i>writes</i>.] Besides, it will be current talk +at the dance to-morrow night.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>The dance! Aye! To-morrow night they shall +see a Macphail lead the Strathspey with the girl who +is to be his bride!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>No, indeed they won’t!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>What!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>I can’t make myself so supremely ridiculous.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Ridiculous!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Oh, Imogen!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Imogen!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Imogen!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>My dear!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Macphail</span> <i>closes her eyes.</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span> +<i>and the</i> <span class="smcap">Dowager</span> <i>take her hands.</i>]</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Sir Julian Twombley</span> and <span class="smcap">Dowager</span>.</p> + +<p>My dear Lady Macphail!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Here is Sir Colin!</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Dowager</span> and <span class="smcap">Sir Julian Twombley</span>.</p> + +<p>Ah!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>My boy!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Why, he is with Mrs. Gaylustre!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>That woman!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>That woman!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>That woman!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>That woman!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Macphail</span> <i>enters with</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Gaylustre</span>, <i>he in Highland +dress, she wearing a showy costume of tweed tartan +with a Scotch bonnet.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Colin, lad!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Eh, mother?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Dear Sir Colin gave me his arm to the top of Ben-Auchter.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Dowager</span> and <span class="smcap">Lady Macphail.</span></p> + +<p>To the top of Ben-Auchter!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>[<i>With an anxious glance at</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Gaylustre.</span>] Just +to see the sun rise.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>[<i>Quietly to</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Julian.</span>] Julian, that’s scandalous!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>I thought you always witnessed the sun rise alone, +Colin.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>As a rule, mother.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>[<i>To herself.</i>] That woman has a motive.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>[<i>Pointing to</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen.</span>] My son, look—here is Imogen.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen.</span>] Good-morning.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Colin, lad, don’t you guess?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>No, mother.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>[<i>Rapturously.</i>] Now let the worn banner of the +Macphail be run up on the crumbling tower of Castle +Ballocheevin!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>[<i>Vacantly.</i>] For what reason, mother?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Now let the shriek of the wild birds sound on the +shores of Loch-na-Doich!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Why?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>[<i>Embracing</i> <span class="smcap">Macphail.</span>] Imogen is to be your +bride.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>[<i>Blankly.</i>] Oh!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span>, <i>the</i> <span class="smcap">Dowager</span>, <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span> +<i>congratulate him.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Most gratified!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>I have a mother’s yearnings toward you.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>We are <i>too</i> rejoiced!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>[<i>To herself.</i>] They’ve hooked him!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>[<i>Bringing</i> <span class="smcap">Macphail</span> <i>down.</i>] Hush! Speak to her, +Colin, lad. Let her hear how a Macphail greets the +woman of his choice.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Macphail</span> <i>joins</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span>, <i>the</i> <span class="smcap">Dowager</span>, +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span>, <i>while they all watch</i> <span class="smcap">Macphail</span> +<i>as he approaches</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen.</span>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Listen!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen.</span>] Er—I’m very much obliged to ye.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Bravely spoken!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>A grand nature!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Thank you, Sir Colin. [<i>She joins the others.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Macphail</span>, <i>seizing his hand.</i>] May your life be +very, very blissful!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>[<i>Uneasily, withdrawing his hand.</i>] Mother’s looking. + [<i>He joins the rest.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>[<i>To herself.</i>] They’ve hooked my Scotch salmon; +but they haven’t landed him yet! [<i>Intercepting</i> +<span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span> <i>as she advances towards the group.</i>] Kate!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Reptile!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>I’m not at all satisfied with the way things are +going on here.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Aren’t you? I think things are beautifully smooth.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>I’m pretty comfortable at Drumdurris myself, +thank you; but I’m getting extremely anxious about +Joseph.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>So am I.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>I’m afraid Joseph isn’t enjoying his little holiday +at all. Did you observe him at dinner last night?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Who could help it? The man eats enough for +six.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>He’s obliged to, his holiday being so brief. But +these fine folks treat him as contemptuously as if he +were a snail in a cabbage.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Then why does he talk with the leg of a grouse +sticking out of the side of his mouth? Why does +he drink people’s health across the table and call +the men-servants “old chaps?”</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Dear Jo! There’s nothing classy about him.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Drumdurris</span>, <i>in shooting dress, enters, carrying a +light wooden box.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Why does he swallow his knife and build pyramids +with his bread; and tell long stories with no +meaning at all or else with two?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Well, you must take Jo as Heaven made him. +So you’d better make things smooth for him with +Lord Drumdurris. If not—<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>—</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>If not?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>If not, Jo might, after all, decline to renew.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>And then there would be the devil to pay, +wouldn’t there?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>As far as I can see there are two devils to pay +already.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Ha, ha! Here’s Drumdurris. Remember.</p> + +<p>[<i>After talking to the others</i>, <span class="smcap">Drumdurris</span> <i>approaches</i> +<span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>, <i>bowing stiffly to</i> +<span class="smcap">Mrs. Gaylustre</span>, <i>who shakes her fist behind his +back,</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span> <i>gives a small nervous +shriek.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Aunt?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>With her hand to her heart.</i>] Spasms.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>[<i>Smiling sweetly at</i> <span class="smcap">Drumdurris.</span>] Delightful +morning.</p> + +<p>[<i>She takes up a newspaper.</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Lady +Euphemia</span> <i>stroll out.</i>]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Drumdurris.</span>] Keith, dear, I want to say a +word to you about—dear Mr. Lebanon.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Ah! Aunt!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Have patience, Keith!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Patience!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>When I begged you to entertain him at Drumdurris +I didn’t deceive you. I distinctly told you +he was one of nature’s noblemen.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>I would do much to please you, Aunt Kate, but +this individual and his sister——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>You must follow the democratic tendencies of the +age, Keith. The peer must go hand in hand with +the pig.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Yes, but let it be the companionable, clubable +pig. Oh, I have just left him at the breakfast-table.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Is he making a tolerable breakfast this morning?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>He seems to be making every breakfast in Great +Britain.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I see him at it.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>He consumes enough coffee to put a fire out.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Yes; and he swoops down on a cold bird like a +vulture.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>It’s hideous to see him hurl himself at an omelette.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I know; and with eggs he’s a conjurer. What’s +he engaged on now?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>When I left him he was an unrecognizable mass +of marmalade. He must go!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Don’t disregard the sacred laws of hospitality!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>I must. At another time I might endure him, +but now when I am utterly crushed by my own +agonizing trouble—— Hark!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>What’s the matter?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>My son.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Angèle</span> <i>appears with the infant.</i>]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Angèle.</p> + +<p>[<i>Mysteriously.</i>] Is it alright, milord?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Hush! [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley.</span>] Is Egidia there?</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span> <i>re-enter.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>No.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span> <i>joins</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Lady +Euphemia.</span>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Angèle.</span>] All right. [<i>Fondly to the infant.</i>] My soldier boy! [<span class="smcap">Angèle</span> <i>advances to</i> <span class="smcap">Drumdurris.</span> +<i>He produces a small toy gun and a little drum from a +box he carries and hands them to</i> <span class="smcap">Angèle.</span>] Don’t let +Lady Drumdurris discover these.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Angèle.</p> + +<p>No.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Above all, let the drum be muffled.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Angèle.</p> + +<p>Yees, milord.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Egidia</span> <i>enters.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>I expect some small cannon by the evening post. +Go.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Egidia</span> <i>comes between</i> <span class="smcap">Angèle</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Drumdurris</span>, +<i>the</i> <span class="smcap">Dowager</span> <i>following.</i>]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Ah!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Angèle.</p> + +<p>Oh, miladi!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>I am right, then.</p> + +<p>[<i>She takes the toys from</i> <span class="smcap">Angèle</span> <i>and points to +the door.</i> <span class="smcap">Angèle</span> <i>withdraws with the infant.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Keith—Egidia! Don’t disagree here!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Drumdurris.</span>] I was loth to credit you with +such treachery.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Name some convenient hour to disagree this +afternoon. I will willingly be present.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>I have long suspected this conspiracy to anticipate +my son’s mature judgment. Keith, there is a +gulf between us which can never be bridged over.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Egidia</span> <i>joins the others.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Mother, my life is wasted.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Valentine</span>, <i>roughly dressed in cords and gaiters, +enters, followed by</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke.</span>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Are you ready, Lord Drumdurris?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>We are waiting, I presume, for Mr. Lebanon.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>I’ll go and stir him up. Ugh! What!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Brooke</span> <i>goes out</i>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>You’ll not join us, Sir Julian?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>I daren’t. Melton has arrived from town with a +mass of papers for my signature. [<i>Quietly to</i> <span class="smcap">Drumdurris</span>.] The Rajputana Canal Question is wearing +me out.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>[<i>Whispering to</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen</span>.] I have your note. I’ll +return in a few minutes.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>[<i>Outside.</i>] Shootin’, my dear sir! When I was in +the South ’Ampstead Artillery I could have shown +you what shootin’ was.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>There’s Jo. [<i>She goes out to meet</i> <span class="smcap">Lebanon</span>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">All.</p> + +<p>[<i>With various expressions of disgust.</i>] Ugh! that +man!</p> + +<p>[<i>All gather into groups, as</i> <span class="smcap">Lebanon</span>, <i>looking very +ridiculous in Highland costume, enters, followed +by</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke.</span>]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>[<i>Slapping</i> <span class="smcap">Macphail</span> <i>on the back.</i>] Mac, dear old +boy, ’aven’t seen you this morning. [<span class="smcap">Macphail</span> <i>turns +away distrustfully.</i>] Lady Mac, I ’ear delightful +whispers.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Sir?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>An approachin’ ’appy event. We’re like the +doves—we’re pairin’ off, hey; we’re pairin’ off? [<span class="smcap">Lady Macphail</span> <i>stares at him and turns away. He +wipes his forehead anxiously.</i>] It’s a little difficult to +keep up a long conversation with ’em. They’re not +what I should term Rattlers. [<i>Eyeing</i> <span class="smcap">Egidia</span>.] The +fair ’ostess. Ahem! We missed you at the breakfast-table, +Lady Drum. Can’t congratulate you on your +peck—excuse my humour.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Egidia</span> <i>stares at him and joins</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Macphail</span>.] [<i>To himself.</i>] They’re a chatty lot; I must say +they’re a chatty lot. I wish Fanny would stick by me +and cut in occasionally. There’s Lady T. <i>She</i> can’t +ride the ’igh ’orse, at any rate. Lady T.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Mr. Lebanon?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>You didn’t honour me with my game of crib last +night.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I—I had a headache.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Never ’ad a ’eadache in my life—don’t know ’ow +it’s spelt.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>It’s spelt with an H.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span>, <i>offering her flowers from his +coat.</i>] Lady Effie, my floral offering.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span> <i>catches up her skirts and sweeps +past him.</i>]</p> + +<p>[<i>To himself.</i>] Chatty, hey? Chatty? [<i>He comes +face to face with the</i> <span class="smcap">Dowager</span>, <i>who glares at him.</i>] Hah! H’m! [<i>Offering her the flowers.</i>] I—ah—had +these picked for you, by Jove, I did. A present +from Joseph.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>What, sir!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>[<i>Replacing the flowers in his coat.</i>] Excuse my +humour. [<i>Wiping his brow again.</i>] Chatty! I do +wish Fan would cut in and help me. [<i>Slaps</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span> +<i>on the shoulder.</i>] Twombley, old fellow.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Sir!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Not comin’ out with us to-day, hey?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>No.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Gettin’ past it, I suppose?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>I am kept indoors by pressure of work, Mr. +Lebanon.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Oh, of course, the Rajputana Canal Question, hey? +I’m a big shareholder in the Rajputana Railway, yer +know. I say, tell me——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>I cannot discuss official matters with you.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span> <i>turns from him.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>[<i>To himself as he sits down.</i>] Chatty! Chatty! +I know what this’ll end in. It’ll end in my standin’ +on my dignity. Where’s Fanny? [<i>Addressing the +others.</i>] Talkin’ about shootin’, I’ll tell you an +amusin’ little story.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span> <i>and others sotto voce.</i>] No, no!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>It’s all about myself.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Whispering to the others.</i>] Good-bye. We’re off.</p> + +<p>[<i>There is a general movement, the ladies and</i> <span class="smcap">Sir +Julian</span> <i>saying good-bye to the shooters, unnoticed +by</i> <span class="smcap">Lebanon</span>, <i>who has his back to them.</i>]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>I was spendin’ a day or two down in Essex with +my old friend, Captain Bolter, South ’Ampstead +Artillery. Dear old Tom—great favourite with the +gals. Excuse my humour.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>, <span class="smcap">Imogen</span>, <span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia Vibart</span>, +<span class="smcap">Sir Julian Twombley</span>, <span class="smcap">Lady Macphail</span>, +and <span class="smcap">Dowager</span>.</p> + +<p>[<i>Quietly to the shooters.</i>] Good-bye.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>It was wild-fowl Tom and I were after. We were +lyin’ in a ditch waitin’ for the ducks to drift in with +the tide. [<i>As</i> <span class="smcap">Lebanon</span> <i>continues his story all the +others gradually and quietly disperse.</i>] I counted fifty-seven +birds through my glass. So said I to Tom, +“Tom, I’m in dooced good form, my boy.” “Devil +you are!” said Tom. “And I lay you a pony to a +penny that fifteen of those birds fall to my gun.” +“Done!” said Tom. [<i>He is now alone in the room.</i>] Well, to make a short story a long one—excuse my +humour—Tom sneezed. Up I got. So did the +ducks. And then what the dooce d’ye think +’appened? I say, what the dooce d’ye think—— [<i>Discovering that he is alone.</i>] Well, I’m—— Chatty, +ain’t they? Chatty!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Mrs. Gaylustre</span> <i>enters.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Jo! why aren’t you with the shooters?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Why! They hooked it while I was tellin ’em the +tale of Tom Bolter and the ducks.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Never mind, my pet.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>It’s rude—that’s what it is—it’s dooced rude.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Come along, we’ll walk on to the moor.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>What, are you going too, Fan?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Yes, dear. Your poor Fanny has a little bit of +fun on.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Oh, Fan, if I only ’ad your confidence, your push. +But the rudeness of these people is gettin’ on my +nerves.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Why, Joseph!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>I feel a little ’urt, Fan—a little ’urt.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Valentine</span> <i>enters.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Mr. Lebanon!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Hi! Where are they?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Just starting in the drag. Be quick.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Gaylustre</span>.] Come on! They shall +hear about Tom Bolter and the ducks before I’ve +done with ’em. Come on!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Mrs. Gaylustre</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Lebanon</span> <i>hurry out.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>[<i>Outside.</i>] Hi! Hi!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>That fellow was born to hail an omnibus.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Imogen</span> <i>appears.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>[<i>Not seeing</i> <span class="smcap">Valentine</span>.] Will he be long? [<i>She +encounters him.</i>] Oh! You are not neglecting +your duties, I hope, Valentine?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>I shall follow the others in the cart. Your note +was marked “urgent.”</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Was it?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>[<i>Showing her letter.</i>] “Urgent.”</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>What a thoughtless habit it is to mark all one’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> +letters “urgent.” All I wanted to say to you is +this—but it isn’t urgent.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>No, no—I understand that.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>I merely had a foolish desire to be the first to +acquaint you of my—undeserved happiness.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>What happiness don’t you deserve?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>The happiness of becoming Lady Colin Macphail, +Valentine.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Oh. Is that—all?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>That’s all—just at present.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Hah! You’ll be a fine lady now, past recovery.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>I shall endeavour to adequately fill the station of +life to which fate has called me.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>All that sweet simplicity of yours in London was +purely an assumption, I suppose?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Things are—what they appear.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>But you have your heart’s desire at last, I presume?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>I—I presume I have.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>[<i>Burying his head in his hands.</i>] Oh!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>What are you going to do next?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Japan.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Nice part of Japan?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>The murderous districts.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Oh! Then you don’t propose to—return alive?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Not according to my present arrangements.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>You—you had better follow the shooters to +Claigrossie now.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Certainly.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>I am glad to have had this gossip over our pros<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>pects. +We—we both seem to be doing well. Good-morning.</p> + +<p>[<i>She offers her hand, which he takes ungraciously.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Good-morning.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>You haven’t congratulated me yet—in the usual +way.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Will you be happy with—him?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>I think—partially.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>But you’re not going to partially marry Sir Colin. +How dare you do this?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>He was the first to ask me, Val.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>The first to ask you! You don’t mean to suggest +that any other man would have done!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>No—not <i>any</i> other.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p><i>Some</i> other?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>It’s too late now—but yes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>A poor man?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Val!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Would <i>I</i> have stood the remotest chance?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>It’s too late now.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Would I? Would I?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>No. Nor any other nineteenth century savage.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Savage!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Mr. White, it is very much too late now; but +why, when you returned to England, didn’t you +wear uncomfortable clothes like other gentlemen, +and a very high collar, and varnished boots, like +other gentlemen?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Why? Because I cannot be false to my principles.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>People say that principles which deal too much +with the outside of things are nothing but affectations.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Imogen!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>If a man has a good heart he should have a good +hat.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Imogen—Jenny! If I had ever come to you—in +a good hat——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>If you had, then when mamma urged me to marry +perhaps she would not have blamed me for——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>For what?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>For liking some pleasant-looking gentleman who +laughed at harmless follies instead of scolding them.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>And now?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Now! Now—it is too late.</p> + +<p>[<i>She falls into his arms; he embraces her.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>[<i>Outside.</i>] Hi, hi! Come here! hi!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Ah!</p> + +<p>[<i>She breaks from</i> <span class="smcap">Valentine</span> <i>and runs out, as</i> <span class="smcap">Lebanon</span> +<i>enters, very pale and upset.</i>]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>[<i>Clinging to <span class="smcap">Valentine</span>.</i>] Old fellow!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>What’s the matter with you?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Gurrrh! You—you’re wanted!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span> <i>enters.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Good gracious!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Something has happened, I’m afraid.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Valentine</span> <i>goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Lebanon</span>.] You’re ill!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>I’m upset.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Too much breakfast!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>No. I—I’ve peppered Macphail.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Peppered him! Can’t you take your mind off +eating?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>You don’t understand. I was in the wagonette, +tellin’ ’em the story of Tom Bolter and those beastly +ducks. I got ’old of a beastly gun and just as I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> +was demonstrating how I shot the fifteen beastly +birds——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>It went off!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Well! Don’t make such a fuss about it!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Ah! and it was pointed at Sir Colin!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Pointed at him! No! His legs were stuck right +in the way.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Heavens!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Be quiet! Make light of it—make light of it, like +I do!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Now, now I hope you’re content!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>No, I’m not. I wouldn’t have had this ’appen +for ’alf a sovereign. This ’Ighland ’oliday of mine +is gettin’ on my nerves.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Your nerves!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Yes, Lady T. Imagine what it must mean to +a shy man to spend a rollickin’ August with a lot<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> +of people whose chief occupation is staring at the +tips of their own aquiline noses.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Hysterically.</i>] Ha, ha, ha!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Imagine what it must be to a shy man to find himself +always leading the conversation, instead of following +it with a sparkling comment or two, as I’m +in the ’abit of doin’ in my own circle. Think of me +starting every topic and arguing on it till my +throat’s sore; making every joke and roaring at it +till I get blood to the head. Sometimes when I’m +in the middle of a long story and not a soul listening +I feel so lonely I—I could almost cry.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Then out of your own sufferings why can’t you +find some compassion for mine?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>It’s pathetic—that’s what my position is—it’s +dooced pathetic.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>In mercy’s name why don’t you retire quietly to +your room and pack?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>What! Throw up the sponge?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>You needn’t throw up your sponge—<i>pack</i> your +sponge.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>I understand, Lady T—hook it!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>“Hook it” is a harsh way of putting it. Bring +your visit to a close. Think of what you are losing +here! Think of Margate, where I feel you must +have many dear friends!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>I—I’ve half a mind to.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Ha! Bless you, Mr. Lebanon, bless you! I’ll +fetch you a Bradshaw.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Stop! I forgot the hop.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>The hop?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>There’s a ball here to-morrow night.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>For heaven’s sake, don’t wait for the hop.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>I had half-a-dozen lessons in the Scotch Reel before +I left town.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>And you would risk the Reel on half-a-dozen lessons! +Madman!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Half-a-dozen lessons at store prices. Dash it all, +you wouldn’t ’ave me waste ’em!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Hopeless!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span> <i>enters unobserved by Lebanon or</i> +<span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Look ’ere, Lady T! I’m sorry to disappoint a +lady, but it ain’t Mr. Joseph Lebanon’s principle to +do something for nothing.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>No. If you lent a lady your arm you’d do it at +interest.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>I’m not alludin’ to our pleasant financial relationship, +Lady T. What I infer is that if after the +forthcoming hop I drag myself away from my sorrowin’ +friends at Drumdurris I expect a—ah—a solatium. +[<span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span> <i>remains watching and listening.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>A what?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Lady T, my pride has been wounded in this ’ouse—my +self-respect has been ’urt.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Ha, ha, ha! Pardon me, I’m hysterical.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>If you could ’eal my feelings by rendering me a +service——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>To be rid of you?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Oh, Lady T, ’ow plainly you put it! Well, yes.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Try me. [<span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span> <i>disappears suddenly.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>’Ush! Thought I ’eard somebody. Lady T, you +are aware that Mr. Joseph Lebanon’s position in +the financial world is an eminent one.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I wasn’t aware of it.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Take it from me, Lady T, take it from me. But +that distinguished position might be advanced by +the success of some delicate little financial operations +which I’m on the brink of, Lady Twombley, on the +brink of. Lady T, if I could know twenty-four +hours in advance of the prying newspapers the decision +of the Government on the Rajputana Canal +Question it would go far to ’eal the wound my self-respect +has received in this <i>recherché</i> ’Ighland ’ome. +You follow me, Lady T?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I suppose you mean that when the decision of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> +the Government is known in the City something or +other will go up and something or other will go +down on the Stock Exchange? Is that it?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>That’s it, Lady T, that’s it! And some fellers will +make fortunes! Oh, Lady T!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>But why do you bother a poor woman with a +headache——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Because without the gentle guidance of tender-hearted +woman I can’t find out whether the Government +is going to grant the concession for the cutting +of the Rajputana Canal. Oh, Lady Twombley, +let me ’ave five minutes alone with Sir Julian’s +papers in Sir Julian’s room.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Mr. Lebanon!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Two minutes! A stroll round. I’ll go in with a +duster and tidy up.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Or give me a glimpse of some of the documents +Mr. Melton brought with him in that box yesterday.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I want some fresh air!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Wait! If you’ll do this for me I’ll clear out of +Drumdurris with Fanny on Thursday morning.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Ah, no!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>And I’ll hand you back your acceptances—every-one +of ’em—I will—on my word of honour as a +gentleman!</p> + +<p>[<i>She seizes him by the throat and shakes him +violently.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>How dare you! How dare you tempt me!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>[<i>Arranging his hair and moustache with his pocket +comb and mirror.</i>] Oh, ladies are trying in business—they +are dooced trying.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>You—you wretch! Do you think I haven’t endured +enough for the past three months without +this? Oh, pa, what will you say to your Kitty when +you know the disgrace she’s brought on you! Oh, +my chicks, my chicks, my blessed chicks!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Lady Twombley, my pride has been wounded, +my self-respect has been ’urt in this <i>recherché</i> ’Ighland +’ome for, I ’ope, the last time. I shall retire +from the hop early to-morrow night and hook it—bring +my visit to a close—on Thursday morning.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Thank you.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Next week the first bit of paper bearin’ the honoured +name of woman falls doo.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>I repeat the word, d-u-e, doo.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Mr. Lebanon!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Our interview has been a distressin’ one, Lady +Twombley. It is over.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Mr. Lebanon! Mr. Lebanon! [<i>He turns his chair +from her. To herself.</i>] It’s all up with me. I—I’ll +go and find pa, and tell him. There’s no help +for it—I’ll tell him. Mr. Lebanon! For the last +time—have compassion on a poor fool of a woman! [<i>He turns away.</i>] Oh! I’ll go to pa’s room and—tell +him. [<i>She goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>That’s one way to the old gentleman’s room. [<i>He +opens the door and listens.</i>] Ah! what’s the latest +quotation for lovely woman’s weakness?</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Valentine</span> <i>enters with</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Gaylustre</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Macphail</span>, +<i>who looks very scared, has a handkerchief +bound round his knee, and leans on</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Gaylustre’s</span> +<i>arm. She supports him to a chair.</i>]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Colin</span>.] Lean on your poor broken-hearted +friend.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>[<i>To himself.</i>] Oh, the dooce!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>I’ll find Lady Macphail. [<i>He goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>[<i>Whispering to</i> <span class="smcap">Lebanon</span>.] Get out of sight!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>[<i>Quietly to her.</i>] Can’t. I must wait here—I’ve +got an important little affair on.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>So have I. Leave us!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Oh, my goodness, how selfish you are, Fanny!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Selfish! you’ll ruin my prospects in life! Brute!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Vixen!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Bah!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Bah!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lebanon</span> <i>goes out.</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Gaylustre</span> <i>throws herself +on her knees beside</i> <span class="smcap">Macphail</span>.]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>How do you feel now?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Well, its tingling.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Tingling! You bear it like a hero.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>I appreciate the compliment, but I’m thinking I’m +only a bit singed.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Ah, but why, why do you indulge in these reckless +sports?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>I was merely sitting in the drag looking at the +sky.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Sitting in the drag looking at the sky! How +foolhardy!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Whereupon your brother, without a word of warning, +blazed away at my knee.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Ah, don’t describe it! Suppose you had had your +head on your knee!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>[<i>Outside.</i>] Take me to Colin!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>My mother!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>[<i>To herself.</i>] Drat your mother.</p> + +<p>[<i>She stands with her handkerchief to her eyes.</i> <span class="smcap">Lady +Macphail</span> <i>enters with</i> <span class="smcap">Egidia</span>, <i>the</i> <span class="smcap">Dowager</span>, +<span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span>, <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Valentine</span>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>Sir Colin!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>[<i>Sitting at writing-table.</i>] I’ll telegraph to Sir +George McHarness, the surgeon.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Now let the wail of the lament waken the echoes +of black Ben-Muchty!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>[<i>Rising from the chair.</i>] It’s not at all necessary, +mother.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>He can stand!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>[<i>Writing.</i>] “Bring—chloroform—and knives.”</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Ah, Colin, lad, why did we ever quit the gray +shores of Loch-na-Doich?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>I’ll go upstairs and bathe my knee, mother.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Macphail</span> <i>leads him.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>He can walk!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Madam, a Macphail can always walk under any +circumstances.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>[<i>Reading the telegram she has written.</i>] “If—in—doubt—amputate.”</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Macphail</span>, <span class="smcap">Macphail</span>, <span class="smcap">Valentine</span>, <span class="smcap">Lady +Euphemia</span>, <span class="smcap">Egidia</span>, <i>and the</i> <span class="smcap">Dowager</span> <i>go out.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>[<i>Weeping till the others are out of sight</i>.] Joseph +will die of remorse! [<i>Calling.</i>] The coast is clear, +Joseph. Jo!</p> + +<p>[<i>As she goes out</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span> <i>enters in great agitation, +clutching an important-looking document.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Kitty, what have you done! Kitty, what have +you done!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lebanon</span> <i>enters.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Lady T! Thought so! [<i>Seeing the paper.</i>] Oh +my goodness, what has she got there?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I must—I must find Julian! Oh!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>[<i>Snatching the paper from her.</i>] Excuse me!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Ah! give me back that paper!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Lady T, oh, Lady T!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Following him round the table.</i>] Give me back that +paper! Dear, sweet Mr. Lebanon!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>[<i>Reading the paper.</i>] Ha!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Ah! don’t read it!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>My friend Sir Julian’s own writing! The Rajputana +Canal is a blessed fact! Lady Twombley, +I forget my wounded pride, I forgive the blow to +my self-respect. You have won a place in Jo Lebanon’s +heart.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Give me back that paper and forget it!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>[<i>Returning the paper.</i>] Give it you back? Delighted. +Forget it? Oh, Lady T, Lady T.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Devil!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Lady Twombley, Joseph Lebanon is, above all +things, a man of honour. [<i>Handing Bills to</i> <span class="smcap">Lady +Twombley</span>.] Lovely woman’s Acceptances.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I won’t take them. I won’t buy them back at +such a price.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Natural delicacy. [<i>Laying the Bills on the table.</i>] You can pick ’em up when I’m gone.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh, what a wicked woman I am!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>I can get out of these beastly clothes, drive to +Strachlachan Junction, and wire to town before +feedin’ time. The city is on the eve of a financial +earthquake! Joseph’s name will be a ’ouse’old word +from Mile End to Kensington! Lady Twombley, we +meet at the hop to-morrow night for the last time—in +Society. [<i>Boisterously.</i>] Whoop! Dash Society! [<i>He performs a few steps of a Highland dance.</i>] Excuse +my humour. [<i>He goes out.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>The Bills! The Bills! They mustn’t lie there.</p> + +<p>[<i>As she goes to the table</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span>, <i>looking very +white and dishevelled, enters, and, standing +opposite to her, takes up the Bills and presents +them to her.</i>]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Pa!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Lady Twombley!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh, my gracious!</p> + +<p>[<i>She drops on her hands and knees at</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Julian’s</span> +<i>feet.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>You’ve found me out, pa! You’ve found me +out!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>I have found you out.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>How did you manage it?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>By degrading myself to the position of an eavesdropper.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>That’s pretty mean, pa—ain’t it?</p> + +<p>[<i>Seeing that he is examining the Bills she puts up +her hands and seizes them.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Ah! Don’t tot ’em up! Don’t tot ’em up!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Katherine, when I first saw you, three-and-twenty +years ago, you were standing over a tub in the tiled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> +yard of your father’s farm wringing out your little +sister’s pinafores.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Weeping.</i>] Oh-h-h!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Could I have looked forward I should have +known that you would one day wring my feelings +as you do now.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Pa, I’ve fallen into the hands of the unscrupulous.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Woman!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh, don’t call me that, pa!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>The unscrupulous! You have lost the right to +ever again use that serviceable word.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>What do you mean?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>How do you come by those Bills?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Julian, you know! [<i>Going toward him on her +knees frantically.</i>] Ah, don’t stare like that! [<i>Putting +her arms round him.</i>] Husband! Dear husband, +you are glaring like an idiot! Listen! [<i>She +shakes him violently.</i>] Listen! When that reptile +tempted me I ran upstairs intending to tell you all.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> +I did. Oh, pa, don’t stare at nothing! I knocked +at your door; there was a drumming in my ears, +and I fancied your voice answered me telling me to +enter. Oh, try winking, pa, try winking! Your +room was empty—left unguarded, the door unlocked. +I entered. Wink, pa; for mercy’s sake, wink! I +sank into a chair to wait for your coming, [<i>Taking +the written paper from her pocket.</i>] and there, on +your table, right before my eyes, I saw this thing +like a white ghost.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>A memorandum in my writing that the concession +for the Rajputana Canal is to be granted.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Yes, yes. I tried to forget it was there. But +the chairs and tables seemed to dance before me +and every object in the room had a voice crying +out, “Kitty, you silly woman, get back your Bills +from that demon who is plaguing you!” I put my +fingers in my ears and then the voices were shut up +in my brain, and still they shrieked, “Kitty, get +back your Bills! Get back your Bills!” I snatched +up this paper and ran from the room. Even then if +I had met you, Julian, I should have been safe; but +whenever Old Nick wants to play the deuce with a +married lady he begins by taking her husband for a +stroll, and so I fell into Lebanon’s clutches—and I—I—I’m +done for! [<i>She sinks into a chair.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Katherine, those Bills must be returned to the +creature, Lebanon.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Yes. And—and—pa, dear, you’ll never speak +kindly to me after this, will you?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>I trust I shall be invariably polite to you, Katherine.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh-h-h! We shall be whitewashed in the Bankruptcy +Court eventually, I suppose?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>All in good time, Katherine.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>And then—what then?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Then we must hope for a cottage, and a small +garden where we can grow our own vegetables and +learn wisdom.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Our—own—vegetables. And years hence, pa, +sometimes when I am sitting over my knitting, +you’ll forget the past, and play your flute again, and +be happy?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Katherine! [<i>He takes his flute from his pocket +and breaks it into pieces across his knee.</i>] Never, +never again, Katherine. [<i>As he is leaving her.</i>] One +pang of remorse I can spare you, Katherine.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Don’t!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>You believe you have betrayed a solemn secret +of the Government to that unprincipled money-lender.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Of course.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>That you have <i>not</i> done.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Pa!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>No, Katherine. Overhearing his shameful proposition, +and fearing your weakness, I had time to +hasten to my room, conceal all important papers, +and scribble the memorandum you abstracted.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Why, then——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>That writing records the exact reverse of the +truth.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>And—and Joseph?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>In the language of the vulgar—Mr. Lebanon is +sold. [<i>He goes out.</i>]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Julian! Ah! [<i>Staring at the paper.</i>] The exact +reverse of the truth! Then the Rajputana Canal—— +Julian, why should you be first blackened +and then whitewashed because of your vagabond +wife? A cottage—our our own vegetables! Never! +Why shouldn’t <i>I</i> have <i>my</i> delicate little financial +operations in the City? Oh, my gracious!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Drumdurris</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke</span> <i>enter.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Hullo, Mater—what!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Brooke! Keith! You boys must drive me over +to Strachlachan Junction. I must telegraph to +London backwards and forwards all day. Keith, put +me into communication with your Stockbroker in +town!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Aunt!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Silence! I’m on the brink of some delicate little +financial operations! [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke</span>.] Get out the +cart!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>The drag’s outside.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Come on!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lebanon</span> <i>enters hastily.</i>]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Hi, Drumdurris! Let me ’ave a carriage to go to +Strachlachan Junction. I want to wire to town.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Do you? So do we. We’ll give you a lift. +Come on! [<i>They all hurry out.</i>]</p> + +<p class="center"><big>END OF THE THIRD ACT.</big></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_FOURTH_ACT" id="THE_FOURTH_ACT"></a>THE FOURTH ACT.</h2> + +<p class="spkr"><big>Dancing.</big></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>The scene is still the inner hall of Drumdurris +Castle, now brilliantly lighted and florally decorated, +the evening after the events of the previous +act.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Waltz-music is heard, then a slight scream, and</i> <span class="smcap">Lebanon</span>, +<i>in full Highland costume, enters hastily.</i></p> + + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>I wouldn’t ’ave ’ad it ’appen for ’alf a sovereign.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">The Munkittrick</span>, <i>a fiery old gentleman in Highland +dress, enters.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">The Munkittrick.</p> + +<p>Sir, I am most indignant!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>I’ve explained. I felt myself goin’ and I caught +at what came nearest.</p> + +<p class="spkr">The Munkittrick.</p> + +<p>My daughter came nearest.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>I know. Don’t make such a fuss about it! Do +remember we’re at a ball!</p> + +<p class="spkr">The Munkittrick.</p> + +<p>Miss Munkittrick is torn to ribbons.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>All right. Make light of it—make light of it, like +I do.</p> + +<p class="spkr">The Munkittrick.</p> + +<p>Ah-h-h!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Drumdurris</span>, <i>in Highland dress, enters with</i> <span class="smcap">Miss +Munkittrick</span>, <i>who is much discomposed, and</i> +<span class="smcap">Egidia</span>, <i>who is soothing her.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Munkittrick</span>.] My dear sir!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Miss Munkittrick.</p> + +<p>Papa!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>Oh, Flora, Flora!</p> + +<p class="spkr">The Munkittrick.</p> + +<p>Lord Drumdurris!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Let it blow over. We’re all forgettin’ we’re at a +ball.</p> + +<p class="spkr">The Munkittrick.</p> + +<p>Miss Munkittrick has been rolled upon the floor.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>She was passin’ at the time—I didn’t select her. +Don’t be so conceited!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lebanon</span> <i>continues to explain</i>. <span class="smcap">Munkittrick</span> <i>is indignant</i>; +<span class="smcap">Drumdurris</span> <i>endeavors to soothe him</i>. +<span class="smcap">Brooke</span> <i>enters carrying a satin shoe, which he +presents to</i> <span class="smcap">Miss Munkittrick</span>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Awfully sorry—what? [<span class="smcap">Brooke</span> <i>hurries out</i>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Miss Munkittrick.</p> + +<p>Where is papa?</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Imogen</span> <i>enters, carrying an aigrette</i>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Oh, Miss Munkittrick, what a shocking mishap!</p> + +<p>[<i>They fasten the aigrette in</i> <span class="smcap">Miss Munkittrick’s</span> <i>hair</i>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Miss Munkittrick.</p> + +<p>Have you seen my papa?</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span>, <i>carrying a sash, hurries in as</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen</span> +<i>goes off</i>. <span class="smcap">Miss Munkittrick</span> <i>rises</i>; <span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span> +<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Egidia</span> <i>adjust the sash hastily</i>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>[<i>Adjusting the sash.</i>] My dear Flora, this is <i>too</i> unfortunate!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Brooke</span> <i>re-enters with another shoe</i>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>The other—what! [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span>.] There +are some more pieces—come and help.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Brooke</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span> <i>hurry out</i>.]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Miss Munkittrick.</p> + +<p>I want my papa! [<i>Seeing</i> <span class="smcap">Munkittrick.</span>] Ah!</p> + +<p class="spkr">The Munkittrick.</p> + +<p>[<i>Giving her his arm.</i>] Flora, we’ll go home.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Miss Munkittrick.</p> + +<p>Papa, I’m not nearly <i>all</i>.</p> + +<p>[<i>Her aigrette is very much on one side, her sash +is trailing, and she limps away carrying one +slipper.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>Pray don’t think of going!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Let it blow over!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>My dear sir!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Oh, very well, you’re losing the best of the ball.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">The Munkittrick</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Miss Munkittrick</span> <i>go out, followed +by</i> <span class="smcap">Egidia</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Drumdurris.</span> <span class="smcap">Imogen</span>, +<span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span>, <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke</span> <i>enter hastily, each +carrying a fragment of</i> <span class="smcap">Miss Munkittrick</span>’s <i>dress.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>[<i>Taking the remnants.</i>] Allow me—allow me—my +affair.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Imogen</span>, <span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span>, <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke</span> <i>go out.</i> +<span class="smcap">Lebanon</span> <i>crams the pieces of</i> <span class="smcap">Miss Munkittrick’s</span> +<i>dress under a chair cushion.</i>]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Let it blow over. Where’s my partner?</p> + +<p>[<i>He goes out.</i> <span class="smcap">Macphail</span> <i>enters with</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Gaylustre</span> +<i>upon his arm.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Staying out is infinitely preferable to dancing, is +it not, dear Sir Colin?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Aye. I hate dancing.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>But your dear mother says you resemble some +beautiful wild thing when you dance the Strathspey.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>That’s because I hate it; the Strathspey’s enough +to make a lad wild.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Witty boy!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Eh, do you think I’m naturally quick?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Quick?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Quick in my understanding?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>I’m sure of it.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Eh, I’m glad you think I’m quick.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Why?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Because Ballocheevin—that’s our place, you understand—Ballocheevin +is enough to soften a lad’s +brain.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Then why hide your light at Ballocheevin?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Well, the Macphails have lived there since eleven +hundred and two.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>How romantic!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>So mother’s just got out of the way of moving.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Charming attachment to an old home.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Aye, it’s old. It hasn’t been papered and done +up since Robert Bruce stayed with us.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Robert Bruce!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Aye—just from a Saturday till Monday, I’m thinking.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>There must be a legend attached to every stone +of Ballocheevin.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Aye, it’s interesting—but it requires papering. +I am so tired of Ballocheevin.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>But you love the rugged country, the vast overwhelming +hills, and the placid lochs?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Mother’s been telling you that.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Isn’t it true?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Eh, I am just weary of my native scenery.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>But what about the misty chasms of Ben-Muchty?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>That’s an awfully damp place. That’s where I +caught my bad cold.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>And the gray shore of Loch-na-Doich? Your +mother says you adore it.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Eh, I am sick of Loch-na-Doich.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>And your feet don’t ache to press the heather?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>It’s when they’re <i>on</i> the heather my feet ache. +It’s poor walking, heather.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Then you don’t watch the sun rise from the jagged +summit of Ben-na-fechan?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>[<i>Cunningly.</i>] Eh, but I do though, every day when +I’m at home.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>But why?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>To get away from mother.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Poor boy!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>[<i>Reflectively.</i>] I’ve been thinking——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Yes?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>That you’d better let go my arm now.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Sir Colin!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>I’ve no personal objection, you understand; but +mother’s always looking for me.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>How thoughtless I am! [<i>He walks away.</i>] Sir +Colin!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Aye?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Your mother is driving you to contract this marriage +with Miss Twombley.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Well, mother’s just making the arrangements.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Your great heart hasn’t gone out to her! Unhappiness +must ensue! Your bright career will be +dimmed!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Will be <i>what?</i></p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Dimmed. What did you think I said? Oh, Sir +Colin, don’t carry this unsuitable bride to Ballocheevin!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Well, it’s a serious step; but I’ve been thinking it +would be another in the house.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>You don’t want another in the house. You need +a strong, self-reliant wife who will take you out of +the house.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Eh?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>A woman, loving but firm, tender but enterprising, +who will bear you from your dilapidated home +and plunge you into the vortex of some great city. [<i>Suddenly.</i>] Have you ever been to Paris?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>No.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>I know every inch of it!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Madam!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Oh, what have I said! Sir Colin, you have +guessed my secret!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Macphail</span> <i>produces his ball-programme from his +stocking and refers to it.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>I’m engaged to Miss Kilbouie for this waltz, if +you’ll excuse me.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>[<i>Holding out her hand to him.</i>] Colin.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>I’m thinking mother will be wondering——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>[<i>To herself.</i>] Drat your moth—— [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Macphail.</span>] Never mind dear Lady Macphail for a moment. +Colin, since you have discovered my love for you I +will make no further reservation——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>But mother——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>[<i>Under her breath.</i>] Drat your—— [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Macphail.</span>] Colin, I will be to you the wife you have +described.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>I’m extremely obliged to ye—but——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Hush, bold boy! [<i>She gives him a card.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>You know my cruel brother takes me back to +town to-morrow. Here is my address so that you +may write to me constantly, devotedly.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>[<i>Reading the card.</i>] “Mauricette & Cie., Court +Dressmakers——”</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>[<i>Snatching the card from him.</i>] That’s a wrong +’un—I mean, that’s a mistake. [<i>Giving another.</i>] There. Hide it away, dear one—nearest your heart.</p> + +<p>[<i>He slips it into his stocking.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Oh!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>And now, as I start in the morning at nine-forty-five, +sharp, on the tick, we must say farewell. +Oh, this parting is too cruel. Colin!</p> + +<p>[<i>She falls against him.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Here’s my mother! [<i>He throws her off.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>[<i>Under her breath.</i>] Drat your mother!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Macphail</span> <i>enters.</i>]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Madam. [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Macphail</span>.] Why do you leave the +ball-room, my lad?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>I’ve been just watching the moonlight on Loch +Auchentoshan.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>I am proud to see this devotion to Loch Auchentoshan, +but to-night you have other duties almost +equally important. After this paltry waltz we lose +ourselves in the wild pleasures of our native dance.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>The Strathspey? [<i>He takes</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Gaylustre’s</span> +<i>card from his stocking.</i>] Oh! [<i>Hides it and produces +his ball-programme from his other stocking.</i>] The Strathspey.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Come, lad. They have yet to see the Macphail +lead the Strathspey with his betrothed.</p> + +<p>[<i>They go out together.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Yes, and they shall ultimately see the Macphail +writing love-letters to Fanny—love-letters with a +promise of marriage in ’em. I’ll consult a solicitor +directly I reach town and be ready to marry or to +sue him. Oh, Fanny, Fanny, ungrateful girl, what +a lot you have to be thankful for!</p> + +<p>[<i>She runs out and</i> <span class="smcap">Angèle</span> <i>peeps in</i>.]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Angèle.</p> + +<p>Milord! Miladi! [<i>She enters.</i>] I must find +miladi! Miladi!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span> <i>enters.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>No news from Reeves & Shuckleback, the Stockbrokers. +The waiting for it will finish me!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Angèle.</p> + +<p>Oh, Miladi Twombley.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Turning to her sharply.</i>] Ah!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Angèle.</p> + +<p>Tell me, vere is milord?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>What! Has a messenger come from Strachlachan +with a telegram for Lord Drumdurris? Speak?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Angèle.</p> + +<p>I do not know.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Angèle.</p> + +<p>But, oh, miladi, I ’ave been a vicked girl!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I dare say you have—that’s your business.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Angèle.</p> + +<p>Miladi, ze leetle Lord Aberbrothock is indispose.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>The baby?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Angèle.</p> + +<p>Yees. To please milord, and contrary to miladi’s +ordares, I put Lord Aberbrothock to bed wiz his +gun.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I know—I’m a mother—the child has swallowed +the paint!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Angèle.</p> + +<p>Ah, yees!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Send a groom to Strachlachan for Dr. M’Gubbie.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Angèle.</p> + +<p>Yees, miladi.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Angèle!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Angèle.</p> + +<p>Miladi?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Tell the man to inquire at Strachlachan for telegrams +for the Castle.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Angèle.</p> + +<p>Yees, miladi. [<span class="smcap">Angèle</span> <i>runs out.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh, for a telegram from Reeves & Shuckleback! +My diamonds, my double row of pearls for a telegram +from Reeves & Shuckleback!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Egidia</span> <i>enters with</i> <span class="smcap">Angèle</span>, <i>followed by</i> <span class="smcap">Drumdurris.</span>]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>Lady Twombley!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Has Keith had a telegram?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>A telegram—no. My son is ill!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh, I know—he has nibbled his gun.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>His gun!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Angèle.</p> + +<p>Yees, miladi.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>Ah! The Army! [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Drumdurris.</span>] So you +have gained your own ends after all, Keith, and my +boy has fallen.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Egidia</span> <i>goes out, followed by</i> <span class="smcap">Angèle.</span> <span class="smcap">Drumdurris</span> +<i>sinks into a chair.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Keith.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Don’t speak to me, please, aunt.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I must. Reeves & Shuckleback are strangely +silent.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Let them remain so—I care not.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>You don’t care! Surely you are anxious to know +whether you have been instrumental in saving me +from—from growing my own vegetables?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Growing your own——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Surely you want to know whether you have made +me a wealthy woman or have ruined yourself in the +effort?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Ruined myself!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Keith, dear, I am afraid I haven’t done what is +strictly regular, but when you put me into communication +with your Stockbrokers I carried on my +delicate little financial operations with them in your +name.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Aunt Kate!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Keith, you’re annoyed!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>May I ask what delicate little financial operations?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I’ve speculated on the strength of my private<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> +knowledge of the decision of the Government on +the Rajputana Canal Question—I mean <i>you</i> have +speculated.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Aunt Twombley, how dare you do such a thing?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>How dare I! Boy—for you are little more—boy, +you wouldn’t have a Cabinet Minister’s wife take +advantage of her confidential acquaintance with her +husband’s official affairs to advance her own interests! +Oh, Keith!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>But you’ve done it!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>No, I haven’t. Don’t be so dull, <i>you’ve</i> done it.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>And if your delicate little financial operations——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>If they come off, you have made what you men call +a pile, Keith. All through your blundering aunty +you will have made a pile.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Which I hand over to you, Aunt Kate?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I shall borrow it, Keith, dear—may I?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>And if—pardon the question—if your delicate little +financial operations——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Don’t come off?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Certainly; if they don’t come off, what then?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Then through your reckless speculation you will +have impoverished your estate for the rest of your +life!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Aunt!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Egidia</span> <i>enters.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>Keith!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Tell me.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>Fergus has taken a turn for the better.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Egidia, how can I look you in the face?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>Cannot we read a lesson from this dreadful occurrence?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>To reconcile our views?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>Finally. You see now how unfitted our son is to +a soldier’s life.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Yes, I have been wrong. Happily it is not too +late to remould his character. We must return to +the ball-room.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>First come with me and peep into the nursery.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>By all means—the nursery.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Together.</p> + +<p>The nursery.</p> + +<p>[<i>They go out as the</i> <span class="smcap">Dowager</span> <i>enters.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Katherine!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Dora?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>I am beside myself! Have you heard the news?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>News? Telegrams for Keith?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>I know nothing about telegrams. I’ve just overheard +Julian talking solemnly to Brooke. Do you +know what your husband intends to do?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Grow his own vegetables.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Bother his vegetables! He resigns his place in +the Ministry.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>The same thing. [<i>To herself.</i>] Ah, why can’t he +wait!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span> <i>enters with</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke.</span>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Katherine, I have been telling Brooke of the +change in his prospects.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>I say, Mater, such a blow—what!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Pa, why can’t you wait?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Wait—for what, Katherine?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Wait till the boy can patch up his future with a +wealthy wife, of course.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Really, Dora, I don’t think it would be absolutely +fair——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Fair! People’s actions are like their heads of +hair—they can be dyed flaxen. [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Brooke.</span>] Boy,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> +why do you let the grass grow under your pumps +in this way?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>I haven’t let the grass grow, Aunt Dora. I—ah—I +have the happiness to be engaged—what!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Engaged!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Bless my soul!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>In mercy’s name, to whom?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>To Effie.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Julian Twombley.</span></p> + +<p>Euphemia!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Euphemia! Why, how dare you conspire to entrap +a child of mine into a moneyless marriage?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>My dear Dora, you yourself suggested——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>If I may be guilty of such an expression—fall-lall!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>But, aunt——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Hold your tongue, sir! Ah, I believe you all have +abominable motives!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>To herself.</i>] The telegram! The telegram! +Why is there no telegram?</p> + +<p>[<i>The music of the Strathspey is heard.</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen</span> <i>enters +with</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia.</span>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Euphemia!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span> <i>joins the others.</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen</span> <i>goes to</i> +<span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span> <i>in agitation.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Mamma! The Strathspey!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>What of it?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>I’m engaged to dance it with Sir Colin. Oh, +mamma, I don’t love him!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Child, you loved him the other night while your +head was being washed.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>I didn’t see clearly then—the egg-julep was +in my eyes. But now Lady Macphail is running +after me, from one room to another, because she +declares I must fulfil the destiny of a Macphail’s +betrothed and lead the Strathspey by his side. But +I won’t dance a deception before a room full of +people!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Imogen, there is nothing for you but this marriage +or contemptible, cleanly poverty.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Poverty!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Child, you are young to be told these things—but +what do you think is likely to happen to pa and me?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Mamma, keep nothing from me.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>In all probability we shall grow our own vegetables.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Oh! What for?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p><i>For</i> dinner. And, oh, Imogen, have pity on your +mother! I can face contemptible, cleanly poverty +with pa alone, but if I see my innocent chicks sharing +our miseries every cabbage in our garden will +grow up with a broken heart!</p> + +<p>[<i>She embraces</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen.</span> <span class="smcap">Lady Macphail</span> <i>enters with</i> +<span class="smcap">Macphail.</span>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Miss Twombley, Lord Drumdurris’s guests are +politely waiting till you are pleased to lead the +Strathspey with the Macphail.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Miss Twombley.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>[<i>Quietly to</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley.</span>] Mamma!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>To herself.</i>] No telegram from town. [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen.</span>] Imogen, you had better not lose your dance.</p> + +<p>[<i>With a slight courtesy to</i> <span class="smcap">Macphail</span>, <span class="smcap">Imogen</span> <i>gives +him her arm as</i> <span class="smcap">Valentine</span> <i>enters, trimmed, +shaven, and in immaculate evening dress.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Brooke Twombley.</p> + +<p>Why, Val!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Euphemia Vibart.</p> + +<p>Mr. White!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Imogen!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>[<i>Leaving</i> <span class="smcap">Macphail.</span>] Valentine!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Valentine White!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Imogen, am I too late?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Too late?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>For the honor of dancing with you to-night?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>You—you are in time, Valentine.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>For which dance?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>This dance.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Mother!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>The child’s mad!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Stop the Strathspey! Stop the Strathspey!</p> + +<p>[<i>She hurries out, followed by</i> <span class="smcap">Macphail.</span>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Mr. White, really you shouldn’t, you know.</p> + +<p>[<i>The music ceases.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Valentine White.</p> + +<p>Sir Julian, Lady Twombley, with your permission +I shall go no further to avoid the shams of life. I +have found one cool resting-place in this world +where there is reality and sincerity. [<i>With</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen’s</span> +<i>hands in his.</i>] And I have found it in an advanced +state of civilization.</p> + +<p>[<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Dowager</span> <i>pulls</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen</span> <i>away.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>I positively must beg——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen.</span>] Child, at this moment I feel grateful +that I am your aunt, with all an aunt’s privileges. +[<i>She shakes her.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Mamma!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>Seizing</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen.</span>] My chick, your mother has +privileges also. Bless you and Valentine. [<i>Kissing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> +her.</i>] There! Dora, if you shake my girl again I—I’ll +slap you!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>Ah! Julian!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Drumdurris</span> <i>appears with a telegram.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>Aunt!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>What’s that?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>From Reeves & Shuckleback!</p> + +<p>[<i>She snatches the telegram from him.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Everybody.</p> + +<p>What’s the matter?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Julian, look at your wife! Brooke, Imogen, come +to your mother! No more worries by day and bad +dreams at night! No poverty—no cottage—no—no +vegetables! I—I am a rich woman!</p> + +<p>[<i>She falls back fainting into</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Julian’s</span> <i>arms as they +all surround her. At the same moment</i> <span class="smcap">Lebanon</span> +<i>rushes in with</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Gaylustre.</span> <i>He has a telegram +in his hand; his aspect is wild, his face +white.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Lady Twombley! Where is she? Lady Twombley!</p> + +<p>[<i>As</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span> <i>is assisted to a chair</i> <span class="smcap">Lebanon</span> +<i>falls into another.</i>]<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Mamma!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Joseph!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Imogen.</p> + +<p>Ah!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Ah!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Be quiet! Lady Twombley is ill!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Ill! Look at Joseph! My only brother!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Keith, explain this telegram or my brain will give +way.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Dowager.</p> + +<p>No, no—tell me. My brain is stronger than Sir +Julian’s.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span> <i>and the</i> <span class="smcap">Dowager</span> <i>apart.</i>] Mother—Sir +Julian——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>I want a word or two with my friend, Lady T.</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Mrs. Gaylustre</span> <i>arranges his chair so that he faces</i> +<span class="smcap">Lady Twombley.</span> <i>She and</i> <span class="smcap">Lebanon</span> <i>stare at each other.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Oh!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Ah!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Lady T.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Hullo?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>I’ve ’ad a wire.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>So have I.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>From Moss & Emanuel, my brokers.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Mine is from Reeves & Shuckleback.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Oh, I see—<i>your</i> brokers. You’ve done me, Lady +T.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Don’t mention it.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>You’re a knowing one.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I’m sure I’m very gratified to hear you say so.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>The Bills! Give me the Bills you swindled me +out of!</p> + +<p>[<i>He advances violently, but</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Gaylustre</span> <i>holds +him back.</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span> <i>hands the Bills +to</i> <span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span>.]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Jo!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Mr. Lebanon, the Bills, sir. [<i>Giving them.</i>]</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lebanon</span> <i>snaps his fingers demonstratively in</i> +<span class="smcap">Sir Julian’s</span> <i>face.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mr. Joseph Lebanon.</p> + +<p>Drum., thank you for your <i>recherché</i> hospitality. +Carriage to the station in the morning, if you +please. [<i>Kissing his hands.</i>] Ladies—— [<i>Breaking +down.</i>] Oh, Fanny, take me to bed!</p> + +<p>[<i>He goes out.</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Gaylustre</span> <i>is about to follow, +when</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Macphail</span> <i>enters with</i> <span class="smcap">Macphail.</span>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Madam! My boy—my poor lad—has told me of +your behaviour.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>My behaviour! He loves me!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Macphail.</p> + +<p>Colin!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>I thought I’d just better mention the affair to +mother.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Of course; conceal nothing from your parent.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>And mother agrees with me——</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Yes?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>That it would be just a risky matter to correspond +with a widow lady.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Oh!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>[<i>Producing</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Gaylustre</span>’s <i>card from his stocking.</i>] So I’m thinking I sha’n’t require this address.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Mrs. Gaylustre.</p> + +<p>Ah! [<i>She slaps his face violently and runs out.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Everybody.</p> + +<p>Oh!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Macphail.</p> + +<p>Mother!</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Macphail</span> <i>embraces him. The music of the +Strathspey is heard again.</i>]</p> + +<p>[<span class="smcap">Egidia</span> <i>enters.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Egidia.</p> + +<p>The Strathspey. Come into the ball-room. What +has happened?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>I can’t enter the ball-room again to-night!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Earl of Drumdurris.</p> + +<p>But you must dance the Strathspey.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Must I? Dance then! [<i>They take their places for +the dance.</i>] Pa! Valentine, Imogen! Brooke, Effie! +Keith, Egidia! Lady Macphail, Sir Colin! Dance! +Dance with foolish, thoughtless, weak-headed Kitty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> +Twombley for the last time, for to-morrow she becomes +a sober, wise, happy, and contented woman! +Dance!</p> + +<p>[<i>They dance the Strathspey and Reel</i>—<span class="smcap">Sir Julian</span> +<i>with</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span>, <span class="smcap">Drumdurris</span> <i>with</i> +<span class="smcap">Egidia</span>, <span class="smcap">Brooke</span> <i>with</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Euphemia</span>, <span class="smcap">Valentine</span> +<i>with</i> <span class="smcap">Imogen</span>, <span class="smcap">Lady Macphail</span> <i>with</i> <span class="smcap">Macphail</span>. +<i>The</i> <span class="smcap">Dowager</span> <i>sits apart gloomily.</i>]</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Twombley</span> <i>while dancing.</i>] You’ve been +indiscreet again, Kitty.</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Finally, Julian, finally!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>No more extravagance?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Never! Never!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>And you resign yourself to a peaceful, rural life?</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Oh!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Sir Julian Twombley.</p> + +<p>Promise me—promise me!</p> + +<p class="spkr">Lady Twombley.</p> + +<p>Ha, ha! Dance, pa, dance!</p> + +<p class="center"><big>THE END.</big></p> + +<hr style="width:65%" /> + +<h2><a name="ADVERTISEMENTS" id="ADVERTISEMENTS"></a><span class="blackletter">A Selection</span><br /> +<br /><small>FROM</small><br /> +<br /><i>MR. WM. HEINEMANN’S LIST</i></h2> +<p class="center">January 1892.</p> +<hr style="width:35%" /> + +<h3 class="blackletter center">The Crown Copyright Series.</h3> + +<p><i>The changed conditions of publishing in the English-speaking +countries, brought about by the American Copyright +Legislation of 1891, have made it possible—without +doing injustice to the authors—to issue new and original +works of fiction in a form immediately accessible to the +large class of readers who are unwilling to be permanently +and entirely beholden to the Circulating Libraries. Mr. +Heinemann has therefore made arrangements with a +number of the first and most popular authors of to-day,</i></p> + +<p class="center"> +<big><i>ENGLISH, AMERICAN, AND COLONIAL,</i></big><br /> +</p> + +<p><i>which will enable him to issue new and original works of +theirs in a Series to be known as the <big>CROWN COPYRIGHT +SERIES</big> at a uniform price of <big>FIVE +SHILLINGS</big> per volume.</i></p> + +<p><i>These novels will not pass through an expensive two or +three volume edition, but they will be obtainable at the +Circulating Libraries as well as at all Booksellers and +Bookstalls.</i></p> + +<p><i>The following volumes are now ready</i>:—</p> + +<p><big>ACCORDING TO ST. JOHN.</big> By <span class="smcap">Amélie +Rives</span>, Author of “The Quick or the Dead,” &c.</p> + +<p><big>THE PENANCE OF PORTIA JAMES.</big> +By “<span class="smcap">Tasma</span>,” Author of “Uncle Piper of Piper’s Hill,” &c.</p> + +<p><big>INCONSEQUENT LIVES.</big> A Village Chronicle, +Shewing how certain Folk set out for El Dorado, +What they Attempted, and What they Attained. By <span class="smcap">J. H. +Pearce</span>, Author of “Esther Pentreath,” &c.</p> + +<p><big>A QUESTION OF TASTE.</big> By <span class="smcap">Maarten +Maartens</span>, Author of “The Sin of Joost Avelingh,” &c.<br /> <span class="right">[<i>In the Press.</i></span></p> + + +<h3 class="blackletter">Heinemann’s 3s. 6d. Novels.</h3> + + +<p><big>UNCLE PIPER OF PIPER’S HILL.</big> By +“<span class="smcap">Tasma</span>,” Author of “The Penance of Portia James,” &c.</p> + +<p><big>A MARKED MAN.</big> Some Episodes in his Life. +By <span class="smcap">Ada Cambridge</span>.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Pall Mall</i>.—“Contains one of the best written stories of a +<i>mésalliance</i> that is to be found in modern fiction.”</p></blockquote> + +<p><big>IN THE VALLEY.</big> By <span class="smcap">Harold Frederic</span>. +Illustrated.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Athenæum</i>.—“A novel deserving to be read.”</p></blockquote> + +<p><big>THE THREE MISS KINGS.</big> By <span class="smcap">Ada +Cambridge</span>.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>British Weekly</i>.—“A novel to be bought and kept for re-reading +on languid summer afternoons or stormy winter +evenings.”</p></blockquote> + +<p><big>PRETTY MISS SMITH.</big> By <span class="smcap">Florence +Warden</span>.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Punch</i>.—“Since the ’House on the Marsh,’ I have not read +a more exciting tale.”</p></blockquote> + +<p><big>A ROMANCE OF THE CAPE FRONTIER.</big> +By <span class="smcap">Bertram Mitford</span>.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Observer</i>.—“A rattling tale—genial, healthy, and spirited.”</p></blockquote> + +<p><big>THE BONDMAN.</big> By <span class="smcap">Hall Caine</span>.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Academy</i>—“A splendid novel.”</p></blockquote> + +<p><big>A VERY STRANGE FAMILY.</big> By <span class="smcap">F. W. +Robinson</span>.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Glasgow Herald</i>.—“Delightful reading from start to finish.”</p></blockquote> + +<p><big>A MODERN MARRIAGE.</big> By the <span class="smcap">Marquise +Clara Lanza</span>.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Queen</i>.—“A powerful story.”</p></blockquote> + +<p><big>LOS CERRITOS.</big> A Romance of the Modern +Time. By <span class="smcap">Gertrude Franklin Atherton</span>.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Athenæum</i>.—“A decidedly charming romance.”</p></blockquote> + +<p><big>DAUGHTERS OF MEN.</big> By <span class="smcap">Hannah Lynch</span>, +Author of “The Prince of the Glades,” &c. <span class="right">[<i>Shortly.</i></span></p> + + +<h3 class="blackletter">New Works of Fiction.</h3> + + +<p><big>THE SCAPEGOAT.</big> By <span class="smcap">Hall Caine</span>, Author +of “The Bondman.” Fourth Edition. In Two Vols.</p> + +<p><big>MAMMON.</big> By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Alexander</span>, Author of +“The Wooing O’t,” &c. In Three Vols.</p> + +<p><big>MEA CULPA.</big> A Woman’s Last Word. By +<span class="smcap">Henry Harland</span> (Sidney Luska), Author of “As it was +Written.” In Three Volumes, crown 8vo.</p> + +<p><big>COME FORTH!</big> A Story of the Time of Christ. +By <span class="smcap">Elizabeth Stuart Phelps</span> and <span class="smcap">Herbert D. Ward</span>. +In One Volume, imperial 16mo, 7s. 6d.</p> + +<p><big>THE MASTER OF THE MAGICIANS.</big> A +Novel. By <span class="smcap">Elizabeth Stuart Phelps</span> and <span class="smcap">Herbert +D. Ward</span>. In One Volume, imperial 16mo, 7s. 6d.</p> + +<p><big>THE MOMENT AFTER.</big> A Tale of the +Unseen. By <span class="smcap">Robert Buchanan</span>. Popular Edition, +crown 8vo, 1s.</p> + + +<h4><i>In Preparation.</i></h4> + +<p><big>WOMAN AND THE MAN.</big> By <span class="smcap">Robert +Buchanan</span>. In Two Vols.</p> + +<p><big>LITTLE JOHANNES.</big> A Fairy Tale. By +<span class="smcap">F. van Eeden</span>. Translated from the Dutch, by <span class="smcap">Clara +Bell</span>, with an Introduction by <span class="smcap">Andrew Lang</span>, and Illustrations. +In One Volume.</p> + +<p><big>THE TOWER OF TADDEO.</big> By <span class="smcap">Ouida</span>, +Author of “Two Little Wooden Shoes,” &c.</p> + +<p><big>ORIOLE’S DAUGHTER.</big> By <span class="smcap">Jessie Fothergill</span>, +Author of “The First Violin,” &c. In Three Vols.</p> + +<p><big>COME LIVE WITH ME AND BE MY +LOVE.</big> By <span class="smcap">Robert Buchanan</span>.</p> + +<p><big>THE WHITE FEATHER.</big> By “<span class="smcap">Tasma</span>.” In +Three Vols.</p> + +<p><big>NOT ALL IN VAIN.</big> By <span class="smcap">Ada Cambridge</span>, +Author of “A Marked Man,” &c.</p> + +<p><big>A BATTLE AND A BOY.</big> By <span class="smcap">Blanche +Willis Howard</span>, Author of “Guenn,” &c.</p> + + +<h3 class="blackletter">Miscellaneous.</h3> + +<p class="hang"><big>THE WORD OF THE LORD UPON THE +WATERS.</big> Sermons read by the Emperor of Germany +while on his Voyages to the Land of the Midnight Sun. +Composed by Dr. <span class="smcap">Richter</span>. Small 4to, cloth, <i>2s. 6d.</i>, +postage <i>4d.</i></p> + +<p class="hang"><big>THE LITTLE MANX NATION.</big> By <span class="smcap">Hall +Caine</span>, Author of “The Bondman.” Crown 8vo, cloth, +<i>3s. 6d.</i>; paper, <i>2s. 6d.</i></p> + +<p class="hang"><big>GIRLS AND WOMEN.</big> By E. <span class="smcap">Chester</span>. +Pott 8vo, <i>2s. 6d.</i>, or gilt extra, <i>3s. 6d.</i></p> + +<p class="hang"><big>GOSSIP IN A LIBRARY.</big> By <span class="smcap">Edmund Gosse</span>. +Crown 8vo, bevelled boards, <i>7s. 6d.</i></p> + +<p class="hang"><span class="smcap">Contents</span>: Camden’s Britannia. A Mirror for Magistrates. +A Poet in Prison. Death’s Duel. Gerard’s Herbal. Pharamond. +A Volume of Old Plays. A Censor of Poets. Lady +Winchilsea’s Poems. Amasia. Love and Business. What +Ann Lang read. Cats. Smart’s Poems. Pompey the Little. +John Buncle. Beau Nash. The Diary of a Lover of Literature. +Peter Bell and his Tormentors. The Fancy. Ultra-crepidarius. +The Duke of Rutland’s Poems. Ionica. The Shaving +of Shagpat.</p> + +<p class="hang"><big>WOMAN—THROUGH A MAN’S EYE-GLASS.</big> +By <span class="smcap">Malcolm C. Salaman</span>. With Illustrations +by <span class="smcap">Dudley Hardy</span>. [<i>In the Press.</i></p> + +<p class="hang"><big>THE WORKS OF HEINRICH HEINE.</big> +Translated by <span class="smcap">Charles G. Leland</span>, F.R.L.S., M.A. +Volume I.—Florentine Nights, Schnabelewopski. The +Rabbi of Bacharach, and Shakespeare’s Maidens and +Women. Volumes II. and III., Pictures of Travel. In +Two Volumes. Volume IV., The Book of Songs. Volumes +V. and VI., Germany. In Two Volumes. Crown 8vo, <i>5s.</i> +each.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p class="center"><i>21 BEDFORD STREET, LONDON, W.C.</i></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/back_cover.jpg" title="Back Cover Logo" alt="" width="100" height="88" /> +</div> + +<div class="tnote"> +<h2><a name="TNOTE" id="TNOTE"></a>Transcriber’s Note.</h2> + +<p>The use of both “Lady T.” and “Lady T”; “good-by” and “good-bye” is as +per the original.</p> + +<p class="hang">Typographic errors have been corrected as follows:<br /> +On page 135: “[<i>Outside.</i>] Hi, hi! Come here! hi!”—had “Ouiside”.<br /> +Punctuation errors and mismatched brackets have been corrected without note.</p> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Cabinet Minister, by Arthur Pinero + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CABINET MINISTER *** + +***** This file should be named 33957-h.htm or 33957-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/9/5/33957/ + +Produced by K Nordquist, Branko Collin, Louise Pattison +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by The Internet Archive/Canadian +Libraries) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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