_SAME SCENE. TIME, 11:30 P.M. MRS. MANDOLINE DISCOVERED WITH HER
DAUGHTER._
_Mrs. M._ Nearly twelve, and JACK not in yet--on this of all days,
too! VIOLA, you will be weak, _culpably_ weak, if you don't speak to
him, very seriously, when he _does_ come in.
_Mrs. R._ (_ruefully_). I _can't_, Mother. We're not on speaking terms
just now, you know.
_Mrs. M._ Then I _shall_. Fortunately, _I_ am on speaking terms with
him--as he will find out! (_A ring._) There he is, at last! Go, my
poor darling, leave me to bring him to a sense of his disgraceful
conduct. (_Mrs. R. retires by the back drawing-room._) How shall
I begin? Ah, poor JOHN'S phonograph! How lucky _I_ remembered it!
(_Selecting a cylinder._) There, if _anything_ can pierce his hard
heart, _that_ will!
[_Winds up machine, which breaks into a merry marriage peal as JACK
enters in evening dress._
_Jack_ (_sullenly_). Now just look here, VIOLA--(_recognising Mrs.
M._) Hullo, the Mum!
_Mrs. M._ (_raising her voice above the clamour_). Mum no longer, Sir.
Do you hear those bells?
_Jack_. _Do I hear those bells?_ Am I deaf? The whole Parish can hear
them, I should think!
_Mrs. M._ I don't care if they do. I want to touch your conscience, if
I can, and I still hope--bad as you are--that when the voices of those
bells--so long silent--rung in anticipation of such a very different
future--fall upon your ear once more, they may--
_Jack_ (_with a sardonic laugh_). "So long silent!" I like that. Sorry
to disappoint you, my dear Mamma, but that phonograph, as a domestic
stimulant, was played out long ago--it has played _me_ out often
enough! Perhaps you don't know it, but really VIOLA has rather
overdone it. Whenever we have a tiff, she sets the "_Voice from Eden_"
at me; if she chooses to consider herself ill-used, I am treated to
a preserved echo of our marriage vows, and the Bishop's address; when
she is in the sulks, I get the congratulations in the vestry; and
if ever I grumble at the weekly bills, it's drowned in the "_Wedding
March_!" As for your precious bells, I can't dine with a man at the
Club without hearing the confounded things pealing out the moment
I let myself in. That infernal phonograph, which you seem to fondly
imagine will make me burst into tears, and live happy ever after, has
driven me out of the house many a time when I was willing enough to
stay at home; but to be put through one's wedding ceremony three times
a week is enough to send any fellow to the Club, or out of his mind.
I'd smash the d----d thing with pleasure, only it seems to afford VI
some consolation. I can't say I find it soothing myself.
[_Before Mr. MANDOLINE can think of a suitable reply, Mrs. R. enters
from the inner room, where she has remained till now. She is carrying
a small steel poker, which she silently places in the hand of her
astonished husband._
_Jack._ Hullo! _you_ here? What's _this_ for?
[_Staring blankly at the poker._
_Mrs. R._ (_meekly_). To--to smash the d----d thing with.
[_The marriage peal ceases abruptly, as Mrs. MANDOLINE, comparatively
reassured, discreetly leaves the couple to come to a better
understanding without further assistance._
* * * * *