CAPT. G. Stupid! Of course not; but it's a matter that I'm tremendously
interested in, because if I or Jack, or I and Jack, work out some sort
of lighter saddlery and all that, it's possible that we may get it
adopted.
MRS. G. How?
CAPT. G. Sanctioned at Home, where they will make a sealed pattern--a
pattern that all the saddlers must copy--and so it will be used by all
the regiments.
MRS. G. And that interests you?
CAPT. G. It's part of my profession, y'know, and my profession is a good
deal to me. Everything in a soldier's equipment is important, and if we
can improve that equipment, so much the better for the soldiers and for
us.
MRS.G. Who's 'us'?
CAPT. G. Jack and I; only Jack's notions are too radical. What's that
big sigh for, Minnie?
MRS. G. Oh, nothing--and you've kept all this a secret from me! Why?
CAPT. G. Not a secret, exactly, dear. I didn't say anything about it to
you because I didn't think it would amuse you.
MRS. G. And am I only made to be amused?
CAPT. G. No, of course. I merely mean that it couldn't interest you.
MRS. G. It's _your_ work and--and if you'd let me, I'd count all these
things up. If they are too heavy, you know by how much they are too
heavy, and you must have a list of things made out to your scale of
lightness, and--
CAPT. G. I have got both scales somewhere in my head; but it's hard
to tell how light you can make a headstall, for instance, until you've
actually had a model made.
MRS. G. But if you read out the list, I could copy it down, and pin it
up there just above your table. Wouldn't that do?
CAPT. G. It would be awf'ly nice, dear, but it would be giving you
trouble for nothing. I can't work that way. I go by rule of thumb. I
know the present scale of weights, and the other one--the one that
I'm trying to work to--will shift and vary so much that I couldn't be
certain, even if I wrote it down.
MRS. G. I'm _so_ sorry. I thought I might help. Is there anything else
that I could be of use in?
CAPT. G. (_Looking round the room._) I can't think of anything. You're
_always_ helping me, you know.
MRS. G. Am I? How?
CAPT. G. You are you of course, and as long as you're near me--I can't
explain exactly, but it's in the air.
MRS. G. And that's why you wanted to send me away?
CAPT. G. That's only when I'm trying to do work--grubby work like this.
MRS. G. Mafflin's better, then, isn't he?
CAPT. G. (_Rashly._) Of course he is. Jack and I have been thinking
along the same groove for two or three years about this equipment. It's
our hobby, and it may really be useful some day.
MRS. G. (_After a pause._) And that's all that you have away from me?
CAPT. G. It isn't very far away from you now. Take care the oil on that
bit doesn't come off on your dress.
MRS. G. I wish--I wish so much that I could really help you. I believe I
could--if I left the room. But that's not what I mean.
CAPT. G. (_Aside._) Give me patience! I wish she would go. (_Aloud._)
I assure you you can't do anything for me, Minnie, and I must really
settle down to this. Where's my pouch?
MRS. G. (_Crossing to writing-table._) Here you are, Bear. What a mess
you keep your table in!
CAPT. G. Don't touch it. There's a method in my madness, though you
mightn't think of it.
MRS. G. (_At table._) I want to look--Do you keep accounts, Pip?
CAPT. G. (_Bending over saddlery._) Of a sort. Are you rummaging among
the Troop papers? Be careful.
MRS. G. Why? I shan't disturb anything. Good gracious! I had no idea
that you had anything to do with so many sick horses.
CAPT. G. 'Wish I hadn't, but they insist on falling sick. Minnie, if
I were you I really should not investigate those papers. You may come
across something that you won't like.
MRS. G. Why will you always treat me like a child? I know I'm not
displacing the horrid things.
CAPT. G. (_Resignedly._) Very well, then. Don't blame me if anything
happens. Play with the table and let me go on with the saddlery.
(_Slipping hand into trousers-pocket._) Oh, the deuce!
MRS. G. (_Her back to_ G.) What's that for?
CAPT. G. Nothing. (_Aside._) There's not much in it, but I wish I'd torn
it up.
MRS. G. (_Turning over contents of table._) I know you'll hate me for
this; but I do want to see what your work is like. (_A pause._) Pip,
what are 'farcy-buds'?
CAPT. G. Hah! Would you really like to know? They aren't pretty things.
MRS. G. This _Journal of Veterinary Science_ says they are of 'absorbing
interest.' Tell me.
CAPT. G. (_Aside._) It may turn her attention.
_Gives a long and designedly loathsome account of
glanders and farcy_
MRS. G. Oh, that's enough. Don't go on!
CAPT. G. But you wanted to know--Then these things suppurate and
matterate and spread--
MRS. G. Pip, you're making me sick! You're a horrid, disgusting
schoolboy.
CAPT. G. (_On his knees among the bridles._) You asked to be told. It's
not my fault if you worry me into talking about horrors.
MRS. G. Why didn't you say--No?
CAPT. G. Good Heavens, child! Have you come in here simply to bully me?
MRS. G. I bully _you?_ How could I! You're so strong. (_Hysterically._)
Strong enough to pick me up and put me outside the door and leave me
there to cry. Aren't you?
CAPT. G. It seems to me that you're an irrational little baby. Are you
quite well?
MRS. G. Do I look ill? (_Returning to table._) Who is your lady friend
with the big gray envelope and the fat monogram outside?
CAPT. G. (_Aside._) Then it wasn't locked up, confound it. (_Aloud._)
'God made her, therefore let her pass for a woman.' You remember what
farcy-buds are like?
MRS. G. (_Showing envelope._) This has nothing to do with _them._ I'm
going to open it. May I?
CAPT. G. Certainly, if you want to. I'd sooner you didn't, though. I
don't ask to look at your letters to the Deercourt girl.
MRS. G. You'd _better_ not, Sir! (_Takes letter from envelope._) Now,
may I look? If you say no, I shall cry.
CAPT. G. You've never cried in my knowledge of you, and I don't believe
you could.
MRS. G. I feel very like it to-day, Pip. Don't be hard on me. (_Reads
letter._) It begins in the middle, without any 'Dear Captain Gadsby,' or
anything. How funny!
CAPT. G. (_Aside._) No, it's not Dear Captain Gadsby, or anything, now.
How funny!
MRS. G. What a strange letter! (_Reads._) 'And so the moth has come
too near the candle at last, and has been singed into--shall I say
Respectability? I congratulate him, and hope he will be as happy as he
deserves to be.' What does that mean? Is she congratulating you about
our marriage?
CAPT. G. Yes, I suppose so.
MRS. G. (_Still reading letter._) She seems to be a particular friend of
yours.
CAPT. G. Yes. She was an excellent matron of sorts--a Mrs.
Herriott--wife of a Colonel Herriott. I used to know some of her people
at Home long ago--before I came out.
MRS. G. Some Colonels' wives are young--as young as me. I knew one who
was younger.
CAPT. G. Then it couldn't have been Mrs. Herriott. She was old enough to
have been your mother, dear.
MRS. G. I remember now. Mrs. Scargill was talking about her at the
Duffins' tennis, before you came for me, on Tuesday. Captain Mafflin
said she was a 'dear old woman.' Do you know, I think Mafflin is a very
clumsy man with his feet.
CAPT. G. (_Aside._) Good old Jack! (_Aloud._) Why, dear?
MRS. G. He had put his cup down on the ground then, and he literally
stepped into it. Some of the tea spirted over my dress--the gray one. I
meant to tell you about it before.
CAPT. G. (_Aside._) There are the makings of a strategist about Jack,
though his methods are coarse. (_Aloud._) You'd better get a new dress,
then. (_Aside._) Let us pray that that will turn her.
MRS. G. Oh, it isn't stained in the least. I only thought that I'd tell
you. (_Returning to letter._) _What_ an extraordinary person! (_Reads._)
'But need I remind you that you have taken upon yourself a charge of
wardship'--what in the world is a charge of wardship?--'which, as you
yourself know, may end in Consequences--'
CAPT. G. (_Aside._) It's safest to let 'em see everything as they come
across it; but 'seems to me that there are exceptions to the rule.
(_Aloud._) I told you that there was nothing to be gained from
rearranging my table.
MRS. G. (_Absently._) What _does_ the woman mean? She goes on talking
about Consequences--'almost inevitable Consequences' with a capital
C--for half a page. (_Flushing scarlet._) Oh, good gracious! How
abominable!
CAPT. G. (_Promptly._) Do you think so? Doesn't it show a sort of
motherly interest in us? (_Aside._) Thank Heaven, Harry always wrapped
her meaning up safely! (_Aloud._) Is it absolutely necessary to go on
with the letter, darling?
MRS. G. It's impertinent--it's simply horrid. What _right_ has this
woman to write in this way to you? She oughtn't to.
CAPT. G. When you write to the Deercourt girl, I notice that you
generally fill three or four sheets. Can't you let an old woman babble
on paper once in a way? She means well.
MRS. G. I don't care. She shouldn't write, and if she did, you ought to
have shown me her letter.
CAPT. G. Can't you understand why I kept it to myself, or must I explain
at length--as I explained the farcy-buds?
MRS. G. (_Furiously._) Pip, I _hate_ you! This is as bad as those
idiotic saddle-bags on the floor. Never mind whether it would please me
or not, you ought to have given it to me to read.
CAPT. G. It comes to the same thing. You took it yourself.
MRS. G. Yes, but if I hadn't taken it, you wouldn't have said a word.
I think this Harriet Herriott--it's like a name in a book--is an
interfering old Thing.
CAPT. G. (_Aside._) So long as you thoroughly understand that she _is_
old, I don't much care what you think. (_Aloud._) Very good, dear. Would
you like to write and tell her so? She's seven thousand miles away.
MRS. G. I don't want to have anything to do with her, but you ought to
have told me. (_Turning to last page of letter._) And she patronises
_me_, too. _I_'ve never seen her! (_Reads._) 'I do not know how the
world stands with you; in all human probability I shall never know; but
whatever I may have said before, I pray for _her_ sake more than for
yours that all may be well. I have learnt what misery means, and I dare
not wish that any one dear to you should share my knowledge.'
CAPT. G. Good God! Can't you leave that letter alone, or, at least,
can't you refrain from reading it aloud? I've been through it once. Put
it back on the desk. Do you hear me?
MRS. G. (_Irresolutely._) I sh--shan't! (_Looks at_ G'.s _eyes._) Oh,
Pip, _please!_ I didn't mean to make you angry--'Deed, I didn't. Pip,
I'm so sorry. I know I've wasted your time----
CAPT. G. (_Grimly._) You have. Now, will you be good enough to go--if
there is nothing more in my room that you are anxious to pry into?
MRS. G. (_Putting out her hands._) Oh, Pip, don't look at me like that!
I've never seen you look like that before and it hu-urts me! I'm sorry.
I oughtn't to have been here at all, and--and--and--(_sobbing_). Oh, be
good to me! Be good to me! There's only you--anywhere!
_Breaks down in long chair, hiding face in cushions._
CAPT. G. (_Aside._) She doesn't know how she flicked me on the raw.
(_Aloud, bending over chair._) I didn't mean to be harsh, dear--I didn't
really. You can stay here as long as you please, and do what you please.
Don't cry like that. You'll make yourself sick. (_Aside._) What on earth
has come over her? (_Aloud._) Darling, what's the matter with you?
MRS. G. (_Her face still hidden._) Let me go--let me go to my own room.
Only--only say you aren't angry with me.
CAPT. G. Angry with _you_, love! Of course not. I was angry with myself.
I'd lost my temper over the saddlery--Don't hide your face, Pussy. I
want to kiss it.
_Bends lower_, MRS. G. _slides right arm round his
neck. Several interludes and much sobbing._
MRS. G. (_In a whisper._) I didn't mean about the jam when I came in to
tell you----