Scene.--Library in Mr. Grovenor's House. Desk, R., Books, etc. Jennie
discovered arranging Books at Desk. Chairs R. and L.
Jen. Now I wonder what it all means? Let me see. (Counts on fingers.)
Mr. Grovenor is cross all the time, Mrs. Grovenor is frightened all the
time, Miss Alice is nervous all the time, Miss Kate is sober all the
time, and Mr. Eugene is drunk--I mean jolly--all the time. Dr.
Endicott don't come here any more, Eyeglass Doughlass is here all the
time, there is a sighing seamstress up-stairs, and Jim--but I know what
the matter is with Jim--_he_ is in love with _me_, _that's_ what ails
_him_. But what ails everybody else is more than I can tell.
(Enter Mr. Grovenor, L. U. E.)
Mr. G. (going to desk). That will do, Jennie, that will do.
Jen. Very well, sir. (Aside.) What a scowl he has on him! I do
believe I should be tempted to marry Jim, if it wasn't for the awful
example before me. (Exit, L. U. E.)
Mr. G. (sitting at desk, R.). Nothing but debts, debts. What a fool a
man is to get married and saddle himself with an expensive family!
Well, there is one consolation, my girls will be off my hands some time.
Not a bad bargain will the man make who gets Kate. It's a pity, a great
pity she isn't a boy. A very different son she would have been to me
from the one I have. If I had time to spare from money matters, Eugene
would give me great anxiety. Here is that note of Brown's due next
week; how am I to meet it? But it must be done or my credit is lost!
Jen. (outside). This way, sir; you will find him in the library.
Doug. (outside). Aw--pwecisely. (Enter Doughlass, L. U. E.) Aw--good
morning, sir. I twust you are well to-day.
Mr. G. (rising). Not quite well, I am sorry to say. Will you be
seated?
Doug. (sitting L.). Aw--thank you, but you seem vewy busy.
Mr. G. We business men are always busy. (Sits, R.)
Doug. Aw, pwecisely. I will not twespass long on your valuable time.
To pwoceed to business at once, I came to ask--aw--for your daughter's
hand.
Mr. G. Indeed! Have you my daughter's consent?
Doug. Aw--not exactly, but I weally do not think there will be any
twouble about that. (Aside.) Does he think _any_ woman would wefuse
_me_?
Mr. G. I was not aware matters had gone so far. But I have two
daughters. Do you mean my eldest or--
Doug. Aw--no, no, your youngest. (Aside.) Does he take me for a
woman's wights convention?
Mr. G. If my daughter is agreeable, then, you have my full consent.
(Aside.) How little he knows what an expensive luxury he is about to
indulge in.
Doug. (rising). Aw--thank you, I thought it was best to see you first,
you know, and now I will not twespass on your valuable time any longer.
Good morning.
Mr. G. (rising and shaking hands with him). Good morning, and I wish
you success. (Exit Doughlass, L. U. E.) Ay, that I do with all my
heart. One burden less. Oh, if that note was only paid! (Exit into
anteroom, R. 1 E.)
(Enter Doughlass, L. U. E.)
Doug. I beg pardon, but I believe I left my glove--aw--the old man has
gone. Well, no matter, I'll just find my glove and depart. (Looks for
glove.)
(Enter Jennie, L. U. E.)
Jen. If you please, sir--oh!
Doug. (aside, looking at her through eye-glass). Always thought she was
devilish pwetty. (Aloud) Aw--do not be afwaid, my dear.
Jen. (coming down L.). Afraid of _you_? Oh, no, indeed, sir!
Doug. Aw--that is wight. Let me see, what is your name, my dear?
Jen. Jennie, sir. (Aside.) Oh, what a fool he is!
Doug. Jennie--aw--vewy pwetty name, Jennie.
Jen. Do you think so, sir? It _must_ be if you do.
Doug. Aw--yes, and a vewy pwetty girl owns it, too.
(Enter Jim, L. U. E. Stops up stage listening.)
Jen. You don't say so!
Doug. (getting closer to her). Aw--didn't you know you were a vewy
pwetty girl, Jennie?
Jen. (imitating). Aw--weally, sir!
Doug. You little wogue, I have a good mind to snatch a--
(Jim comes down C. and throws him over to R.)
Jim (C.). You have, have you?
Doug. (R.). You vulgaw fellow, how dare you lay your hands on a
gentleman!
Jim. Because you forgot to be a gentleman, sir, that's how, and I'll do
it every time, too, so you needn't try to come any of them games here.
Jen. (L.). Ain't you ashamed of yourself, Jim? Suppose the gentleman
did say I was pretty, what then? There was no occasion for you to show
your superiority, and it's entirely out of place. (Aside.) Just as if
I should have allowed that jackanapes to kiss me! What stupid things
these men are!
Jim. He had no business to do it. He had no business to be so near
you; I won't stand by and see it done.
Doug. Weally, this is a most extraordinary thing! Look here, fellow--
(Going towards him.)
Jim. Don't call me fellow, sir. (Crossing to L.)
(Enter Dr. Endicott, L. U. E.)
Dr. E. (coming down R. C.). Oh, Mr. Doughlass, you here?
Doug. Aw--yes, happy to see you. (Aside.) Good gwacious! It will
never do to have him catch me in a wow with the coachman. (Aloud.)
Aw--I was about leaving. Here, my good fellow. (Gives money to Jim
and exit L. U. E.)
Jim (looks at money, then throws it after him). There, sir! You will
find money is not a plaster for everything.
Jen. Ain't you ashamed of yourself, Jim! Is this the way you show
your superiority, I'd like to know?
Dr. E. (C.). What does all this mean?
Jim. Excuse me, sir, it's nothing but a little quarrel that Jennie and
I were having. Nothing uncommon, sir. She is like all women, the
better a man likes her the worse he gets treated.
Jen. Do not listen to him, please, doctor. It's all a bit of nonsense,
anyway. If that last you said is true, Jim, all I have got to say is
that it shows a great weakness in the sex. (Exit, L. U. E.)
Jim. There you hear her, sir?
Dr. E. Your sweetheart is a little wilful, I fear.
Jim. Sh! don't let her hear you say that, for she ain't my sweetheart,
you know. That is, she won't acknowledge it. It's me who am a dangling
and a dangling after her, and she is laughing at me, or berating me for
it all the time. Oh, sir! it is an awful thing to be in love. Why,
sir, if this goes on much longer, I shan't have flesh enough left to
keep my bones together with.
Dr. E. Then why do you not insist on either yes or no from her and
abide by it.
Jim. _Insist_, did you say, sir? _Insist_? Why, sir, I have to get
down on my marrow bones, sir, and then she ain't satisfied!
Dr. E. But what does she wish you to do?
Jim. I'll tell you what she wants, sir. She wants me to give up the
dignity of my sex.
Dr. E. (surprised). I fear I do not quite understand.
Jim. She wants me to acknowledge that I am a fool, sir; nothing will
content her but my admitting I am a perfect fool.
Dr. E. That is very strange.
Jim. You see, she thinks it her duty to sit down on me! just to show
she ain't inferior, you know.
Dr. E. I am afraid she and you also have gone to the two extremes of an
idea. Now I do not believe you would wish to exercise any undue
authority over her.
Jim. Authority? over Jennie? No, indeed, sir, and to tell you the
truth, I don't believe there is any fellow alive who _could_ do it and
live.
Dr. E. I have more faith in Jennie than to believe she would really
like a man who was inferior to herself. I think she adopts that tone
as a safeguard because she has a misgiving that the masculine instinct
is to assert itself over the feminine. But if you give her to
understand that as far as you are concerned she is wrong, I think there
will be no trouble.
Jim. Thank you, sir, I'll try. I suppose a man and a woman _are_ two
halves, equal halves, but I have a feeling that Jennie won't be content
with half; she will want two thirds at least. (Exit, L. U. E.)
Dr. E. Poor fellow, I trust his Jennie will not be obdurate. As he
says, it is an awful thing to be in love. Love! Is it a blessing or a
curse? A week ago, and for me it meant happiness, and now--ah, Kate,
what is it that stands between us? I can obtain no explanation from
her; she refuses to see me alone. Is it what a man who has less faith
in the sex than I would call a woman's caprice? No! Kate is a noble,
a true woman, nothing can make me doubt that! "I must honor as well
as love the man I marry." What can she have meant? What have I done?
I am groping in the darkness, but I will find my way into the light yet!
(Enter Mr. Grovenor, R. 1 E.)
Mr. G. Ah, my dear doctor, you are a stranger indeed. I sent for you
to-day, as I am feeling far from well. I have had a great mental strain
of late and I fear it has been too much for me.
Dr. E. I can truly believe it. I am grieved to see you looking so ill.
Mr. G. My head troubles me sadly.
Dr. E. You need rest.
Mr. G. Rest! Rest is impossible for me.
Dr. E. Cannot your son--
Mr. G. Eugene! no! He is good for nothing except to sing comic songs
at champagne suppers and talk soft nonsense to equally soft girls. No.
I regret to say Eugene is not a son of whom I can be proud, or who is
willing to be useful to me.
Dr. E. But your daughter Kate. I am positive she could be of great
assistance to you if you would allow her.
Mr. G. What! a woman meddling in my business matters? Absurd!
Dr. E. I am sorry I cannot agree with you. I know Miss Grovenor has
business ability, energy, and brains; what more do you want?
Mr. G. But she is a woman and that settles the matter. Let us not
discuss this point. And now can you not give me something that will
stop this burning in my head?
Dr. E. I will try, but I fear, without rest, medicine will do you
little good.
(Enter Kate, L. U. E.)
Kate (coming down C.). Father, I--Dr. Endicott!
Dr. E. (L.). Kate!
Kate. I thought my father was alone; excuse my intrusion. (Aside.) It
is hard to remember how dishonorable he was when I see him as now. But
I must.
Dr. E. Do not go, I was about leaving. May I ask to be favored with an
interview, at any time possible to you?
Kate. I regret to be obliged to say no to your request.
Mr. G. Why, what do you mean, Kate?
Kate. What I say, father.
Dr. E. I appeal to your sense of justice. Is it right to refuse me all
explanation?
Kate. Can you say you _need_ one?
Dr. E. I can.
Kate (aside). His eyes meet mine unfalteringly. Can there have been a
mistake? But no, that is impossible. (Aloud.) As you will. I will
see you to-morrow at this hour.
Dr. E. I thank you. Pardon me, Mr. Grovenor, but as this is a matter
that concerns me very nearly I could do no otherwise than speak in your
presence--my only opportunity. I will send the medicine for you very
soon. To-morrow at this hour, Kate, I hope to clear up all your doubts.
(Exit, L. U. E. Kate looks after him.)
Mr. G. What cursed nonsense is all this?
Kate. Nothing, father, only Dr. Endicott asked me to be his wife.
Mr. G. The devil he did.
Kate. And I refused.
Mr. G. What! refused? why, you are a bigger fool than most women!
Kate. Thank you, father. But in a matter like that, you must allow
even a woman has the right to choose.
Mr. G. And are you expecting a prince, that the doctor, a fine,
handsome man, is not good enough for you? It is not every one who would
want you, with your unfeminine ideas!
Kate. Well, father, I think I can manage to exist unmarried.
Mr. G. Exist? on what? I have no property to leave you.
Kate. Then at least I shall escape taxation without representation.
Mr. G. There you go again with your crazy ideas! I declare I have no
patience with you. What was that he meant about an explanation?
Kate. That I am not at liberty to tell, as it is a secret that concerns
others.
Mr. G. A secret? Ah, well, it will come out soon enough, then. No
woman yet ever kept a secret.
Kate. We shall see.
Mr. G. Well, Kate, I will not deny you have always been a good girl; I
believe you never teased me for money in your life, but you were a fool
to refuse the doctor. However, there is no accounting for a woman's
whims, and you may think better of it.
Kate. Let us dismiss that subject. I came here, father, to beg you to
let me help you. I know you are ill and need rest. I know you are
oppressed by many cares, while I--I have absolutely nothing to fill my
time. I feel I could help you. Forget I am a woman, if need be, and
let me try.
Mr. G. I know you mean right, child, but if I should agree to your
proposition, you would be more bother than you were worth; don't you
see you would, you goose?
Kate. At first I might until I learned your way. But that would not be
long; at least let me try.
Mr. G. Well, some time when I have plenty of time, perhaps, I will see!
(Sits at desk, R.)
Kate. You only say that to get rid of me. Is there no way I can induce
you?
Mr. G. No, no. Now do not annoy me any more. (Writes busily.)
(Enter Mrs. Grovenor, L. U. E.)
Mrs. G. (L.). Ah, Kate, you here? I would like to speak to your father
alone a moment, my dear.
Kate. Very well, mother. (Aside.) Poor father so worn and harassed.
I know I could lighten his labors. Why is he so obstinate? (Exit
L. U. E.)
Mr. G. (without looking at her). Well, Mrs. Grovenor, what is
it--money? You can't have it.
Mrs. G. Not for myself. But Eugene is in great distress. He says he
must have five hundred dollars at once, and goes on in a way that is
frightful.
Mr. G. (looking over shoulder). Five hundred dollars! Do you see that
note, due next week and not a cent raised to pay it with? Do you see
these bills? Go back and teach your son to earn his money.
Mrs. G. (putting handkerchief to eyes). Oh, would I not if I could!
But alas! I am helpless and Eugene is going to ruin!
Mr. G. (writing). There, do not snivel. You have an easy time enough.
So spare a man at least your everlasting whimpering!
Mrs. G. An easy time? Bound, fettered, helpless, is that easy?
Mr. G. (turning in his chair and staring at her). You are in an
extraordinary mood to-day, Mrs. Grovenor! Bound, fettered--clothed,
fed, given all the luxuries of life without lifting your own white
hands, you mean. Helpless? To raise five hundred dollars to pay
Eugene's--gambling--debts--doubtless. Who has been talking such stuff
to you? Kate?
Mrs. G. Sneer if you will, but it is true that of Kate I have learned
to think upon things I never did before, and to believe that, had I been
differently educated, had my life been broadened instead of narrowed,
had I been taught to be independent, and to make my matrimonial choice
from love alone, I might have been a better mother to my daughters, and
guided the steps of my son away from ruin and dishonor. (Exit,
L. U. E.)
Mr. G. (staring after her). Have all the women gone crazy? I have been
married twenty-five years and I never knew my wife to speak in that way
before. It's all Kate's fault! I must forbid this radical talk or my
household will be utterly demoralized. But she was right in saying that
Eugene is going to ruin. This constant struggle with money matters has
given me no time to attend to my son, and now, what shall be done?
(Rises and walks back and forth.)
(Enter Eugene, L. U. E.)
Eug. Father!
Mr. G. Ah! have you come to tell me what you mean by your disgraceful
conduct, sir?
Eug. Disgraceful conduct? You are talking in enigmas to me; I'm all
right. I have been a little jolly sometimes, to be sure, but that is no
more than all the boys are. You had your fun when you were young, I
suppose, so why shouldn't I?
Mr. G. How dare you, boy, insinuate that I--
Eug. Ah! come, come, father, you know you wasn't a milk-sop any more
than I am. It's all very well for the girls, but it won't do for us
men, you know. So, now, let me have that five hundred, that's a good
old dad.
Mr. G. Five hundred dollars! Do you know that I am on the verge of
ruin?
Eug. The deuce you are!
Mr. G. Nothing but a steady hand will save me. While I am struggling
with all my might--sick enough to be in bed--to pull through, you all,
not content with being dead weights on my shoulders, run into
extravagance and profligacy. (Takes bill from desk.) The bill for my
daughter Alice's last ball dress is here, $500. Here are two of your
champagne bills, $100. I tell you this must be stopped. Your
debauchery must be stopped. You have not the strength of mind to go
through profligacy and come out solvent; if you had Kate's brains you
might, but you have not; so I tell you this must be stopped, or you will
have the pleasure of sowing the remainder of your wild oats in a
pauper's back yard, if you do not fill a drunkard's grave! (Exit,
R. 1 E.)
Eug. By Jove! He means it every word! I never saw him so worked up
before! And to say I, a man, had not so much strength of mind as Kate,
he must be crazy! But what a fix I am in! I never dreamed but I could
get the money without any trouble before the time to take up the note
came, and if I cannot--great heavens! what I did was a crime, a State
prison offence! State prison? Bah! the idea is absurd, I shall get the
money some way. I will not think of it. It annoys me, too, to have
Lizzie under the same roof. I have avoided her so far, but--oh! I will
go and get a glass of whiskey and forget it all.
(Enter Lizzie, L. U. E. She gives a startled exclamation.)
Eug. Lizzie!
Liz. You!
Eug. What are you doing here?
Liz. (up L.). I came to look for Miss Kate; they said she was in the
library. Heaven knows I would not have come had I known you were here!
Eug. Now, Lizzie, what is the use of making such a fuss about nothing?
Because we had a jolly little flirtation once, it is no reason why we
should go into heroics now, is it? Come, let us be friends, Lizzie.
Liz. (coming down L.). Friends with you, who broke my heart?
Eug. Nonsense! broken hearts went out of fashion years ago. There,
forgive me, Lizzie, but what _is_ the use of taking things so seriously?
Life was never made to be taken seriously.
Liz. Perhaps not for you, but for those who have hearts life is indeed
serious.
Eug. I know it's a way women have to make themselves miserable, if they
can. Now be sensible. Suppose we were awful spoons once; it was very
pleasant while it lasted, but, of course, it could not last forever.
Liz. And why?
Eug. Why? Do summer flirtations ever last? Certainly not.
Liz. But you said you never could be happy without me, that some day I
should be your wife.
Eug. By Jove! was I so far gone as all that? Well, I did like you
amazingly, Lizzie, but, of course, that was mere talk.
Liz. (looking at him earnestly and moving towards him). You did not
mean it when you asked me to be your wife?
Eug. Of course not, and I did not suppose you thought I did.
Liz. (C.). And you call yourself a man, you who thus trifled with the
heart of an innocent girl who loved you! Then if you are a type of a
man, I thank heaven _I_ am a woman.
Eug. Now, Lizzie, don't get mad. I did not mean any harm, 'pon my word
I didn't. (Aside.) By Jove, I believe I did treat the little girl
confounded mean.
Liz. I loved not _you_, but the man I dreamed you were. _You_ I
despise.
Eug. Lizzie, I am sorry it ever happened. You see, I am a thoughtless
kind of a fellow. I--I--have done a great many things I ought not.
(Tries to take her hand.)
Liz. (C., repulsing him). Then cultivate a different disposition in
amends for the past and to save yourself from ruin, to which
thoughtlessness is too often a guide. (Goes up R.)
Eug. (L.). 'Pon my word, I--I believe I will try.
(Enter Mr. Grovenor, R. 1 E., hastily, with paper clutched in his hand.)
Mr. G. This--this is a forgery, and you, Eugene, do you--do you
know--was it--can it have been you?
Eug. (L., aside). Heaven! that note to-day! I thought it was
to-morrow. What shall I do?
Mr. G. (C.). Answer and contradict if you can the guilt I see in your
face.
Eug. Father, forgive me. It was a debt of honor and I hoped to be able
to pay the note before it came due. I--
Mr. G. Then it was you, my son. My curse upon you, ungrateful and
miserable son. Go--to a prison. I will have no mercy on you.
(Lizzie screams and comes down R.)
Eug. Oh! a prison! (Staggers to R., and falls into chair. Lizzie
leans over him.)
Mr. G. Yes, a prison, and rot there. You have ruined me; do you hear,
ruined me! What have I done that I should be the father of a son like
this? A forger and a--(Staggers.) Ah, my head! how it burns! What
was I saying? Mercy! I will have no mercy! Where is Kate? (Rings bell
over desk furiously.) Yes, ruined! ruined!
(Enter Mrs. Grovenor and Alice, L. U. E.)
Alice (L. C.). Father, what is the matter?
Mrs. G. (L.). What can I do? Are you ill? Speak to me.
Mr. G. (raving). Yes, you have ruined me. (Enter Kate, L. U. E.) Who
will pay these bills? I am ill, dying, dishonored; no one will
straighten out my affairs. My son--no. I have no son. I--who will,
who can help, save me? (Falls, C. Kate comes down L. C., kneels and
puts her arms around him.)
Kate. Your _daughter_, father! (Slow music.)
TABLEAU.
Eugene in chair. Lizzie bending over him, R. Mr. Grovenor on floor.
Kate kneeling beside him, C. Alice weeping, with arms around her
mother, L.