+JOURNEYS END IN LOVERS' MEETING.+
SCENE--_Near Torcello._ CULCHARD _and_ PODBURY _are seated side by side
in the gondola, which is threading its way between low banks, bright
with clumps of Michaelmas daisies and pomegranate-trees laden with red
fruit. Both_ CULCHARD _and_ PODBURY _are secretly nervous and anxious
for encouragement_.
PODBURY (_humming_ "_In Old Madrid_" _with sentiment_).
La-doodle-um-La-doodle-oo: La-doodle-um-te-dumpty-loodle-oo! I think she
rather seemed to like me--those first days at Brussels, don't _you_?
CULCHARD (_absently_). Did she? I dare say. (_Whistling_ "_The
Wedding March_" _softly_.) Few-fee; di-fee-fee-few-few;
few-fiddledy-fee-fiddledy-few-few-few-fee. I fancy I'm right in my
theory, eh?
PODB. Oh, I should say so--yes. _What_ theory?
CULCH. (_annoyed_). What theory? Why, the one I've been explaining to
you for the last ten minutes!--that all this harshness of hers lately is
really, when you come to analyse it, a decidedly encouraging symptom.
PODB. But I shouldn't have said Miss Trotter was exactly _harsh_ to
me--lately, at all events.
CULCH. (_with impatience_). Miss Trotter! You! What an egoist you are,
my dear fellow! I was referring to myself and Miss Prendergast. And you
can't deny that, both at Nuremberg and Constance, she----
PODB. (_with careless optimism_). Oh, _she_'ll come round all right,
never fear. I only wish I was half as safe with Miss Trotter!
CULCH. (_mollified_). Don't be too down-hearted, my dear Podbury. I
happen to know that she likes you--she told me as much last night. Did
Miss Prendergast--er--say anything to that effect about _me_?
PODB. Well,--not exactly, old chap--not to me, at least. But I say, Miss
Trotter didn't tell you _that_? Not _really_? Hooray! Then it's all
right--she may have me after all!
CULCH. (_chillingly_). I should advise you not to be over-confident. (_A
silence follows, which endures until they reach the landing-steps at
Torcello._) They _are_ here, you see--those are evidently their
gondolas, I recognise those two cloaks. Now the best thing _we_ can do
is to separate.
PODB. (_springing out_). Right you are! (_To himself._) I'll draw the
church first and see if she's there. (_Approaches the door of Santa
Maria: a Voice within, apparently reading aloud_: "_Six balls, or rather
almonds, of purple marble veined with white are set around the edge of
the pulpit, and form its only decoration_.") Hypatia, by Jove! Narrow
shave that!
[_He goes round to back._
CULCH. (_comes up to the door_). I know I shall find her here. Lucky I
know that Torcello chapter in "The Stones" very nearly by heart!
(_Reaches threshold. A Voice within._ "_Well, I guess I'm going to climb
up and sit in that old amphitheatre there, and see how it feels_!") Good
heavens,--_Maud_! and I was as nearly as possible--I think I'll go up to
the top of the Campanile and see if I can't discover where Hypatia is.
[_He ascends the tower._
IN THE BELFRY.
PODB. (_arriving breathless, and finding_ CULCHARD _craning eagerly
forward_). Oh, so _you_ came up too? Well, can you _see_ her?
CULCH. Ssh! She's just turned the corner! (_Vexed._) She's with Miss
Trotter!... They're sitting down on the grass below!
PODB. Together? That's a nuisance! Now we shall have to wait till they
separate--sure to squabble, sooner or later.
MISS T.'S VOICE (_which is perfectly audible above_). I guess we'll give
Ruskin a rest now, Hypatia. I'm dying for a talk. I'm just as enchanted
as I can be to hear you've dismissed Mr. Podbury. And I expect you can
guess _why_.
PODB. (_in a whisper_). I say, Culchard, they're going to talk about us.
Ought we to listen, eh? Better let them know we're here?
[Illustration: "HYPATIA, BY JOVE! NARROW SHAVE THAT!"]
CULCH. I really don't see any necessity--however,--(_Whistles feebly._)
Feedy-feedy-feedle!
PODB. What is the use of fustling like that? (_Yoedels._) Lul-li-ety!
MISS P.'S V. Well, my dear Maud, I confess that I----
CULCH. It's quite impossible to make them hear down there, and it's no
fault of ours if their voices reach us occasionally. And it _does_ seem
to me, Podbury, that, in a matter which may be of vital importance to
me--to us both--it would be absurd to be over-scrupulous. But of course
you will please yourself. _I_ intend to remain where I am. [PODBURY
_reluctantly resigns himself to the situation_.
MISS T.'S V. Now, Hypatia Prendergast, don't tell _me_ you're not
interested in him! And he's more real suited to you than ever Mr.
Podbury was. Now, isn't that _so_?
CULCH. (_withdrawing his head_). Did you hear, Podbury? She's actually
pleading for me! _Isn't_ she an angel? Be quiet, now. I must hear the
answer!
MISS T.'S V. I--I don't know, really. But, Maud, I want to speak to you
about--Somebody. You can't think how he adores you, poor fellow! I have
noticed it for a long time.
POBD. (_beaming_). Culchard! You heard? She's putting in a word for me.
What a brick that girl is!
MISS T.'S V. I guess he's pretty good at concealing his feelings, then.
He's been keeping far enough away!
MISS P.'S V. That was _my_ fault. I _kept_ him by me. You see, I
believed you had quite decided to accept Mr. Culchard.
Miss T.'s V. Well, it does strike me that, considering he was adoring me
all this time, he let himself be managed tolerable easy. [PODBURY
_shakes his head in protestation_.
MISS P.'S V. Ah, but let me explain. I could only keep him quiet by
threatening to go home by myself, and dear Bob is such a devoted brother
that----
POBD. Brother! I say, Culchard, she can't be meaning _Bob_ all this
time! She _can't_! can she now?
CULCH. How on earth can _I_ tell? If it is so, you must be a
philosopher, my dear fellow, and bear it--that's all.
MISS P.'S V. That _does_ alter the case, doesn't it? And I may tell him
there's some hope for him? You mustn't judge him by what he is with his
friend, Mr. Podbury. Bob has such a _much_ stronger and finer character!
MISS T.'S V. Oh well, if he couldn't stand up more on his edge than Mr.
Podbury! Not that I mind Mr. Podbury any, there's no harm in him, but
he's too real frivolous to amount to much.
PODB. (_collapsing_). Frivolous! From _her_ too! Oh, hang it _all_!
[_He buries his head in his hands with a groan._
MISS T.'S V. Well, see here, Hypatia. I'll take your brother on trial
for a spell, to oblige you--there. I cann't say more at present. And
now--about the other. I want to know just how you feel about him.
CULCH. The _other_!--that's Me! I wish to goodness you wouldn't make all
that noise, Podbury, just when it's getting interesting!
MISS P.'S V. (_very low_). What is the good! Nothing will bring him
back--_now_!
CULCH. Nothing? How little she knows me!
MISS T.'S V. I hope you don't consider _me_ nothing. And a word from me
would bring him along pretty smart. The only question is whether I'm to
say it or not.
MISS T.'S V. (_muffled_). Dar-ling!
CULCH. I really think I might almost venture to go down now, eh,
Podbury? (_No answer._) Selfish brute! [_Indignantly._
MISS T.'S V. But mind this--if he comes back, you've got to care for him
the whole length of your boa--you won't persuade him to run in couples
with anybody else. That's why he broke away the first time--and you were
ever so mad with me because you thought I was at the bottom of it. But
it was all his pride. He's too real independent to share chances with
anybody alive.
CULCH. How thoroughly she understands me!
MISS T.'S V. And I guess Charley will grow out of the great Amurrcan
Novel in time--it's not going ever to grow out of _him_, anyway!
CULCH. (_bewildered_). Charley? I don't see why she should mention Van
Boodeler _now_!
MISS T.'S V. I like Charley ever so much, and I'm not going to have him
cavort around along with a circus of suitors under vows. So, if I
thought there was any chance of--well, say Mr. Culchard----
MISS P.'S V. (_indignant_). Maud! how _can_ you? That odious
hypocritical creature! If you knew how I despised and----!
MISS T.'S V. Well, my dear, he's pretty paltry--but we'll let him go at
that--I guess his shares have gone down considerable all round.
CULCH. Podbury, I--I--this conversation is evidently not intended
for--for other ears--I don't know whether _you_ have heard enough, _I_
shall go down!
PODB. (_with a ghastly chuckle_). Like your shares, eh, old chap? And
mine too, for that matter. Well, _I'm_ ready enough to go. Only, for
goodness' sake, let's get away without being seen!
[_They slip softly down the series of inclined planes, and out to the
steps, where they re-embark. As their gondola pushes off_, MR. TROTTER
_and_ BOB PRENDERGAST _appear from the Museum_.
MR. T. Why, land sakes! ain't that Mr. Podbury and Mr. Culchard? Hi! you
ain't ever going away? There's my darter and Miss Hypatia around
somewhere--They'll be dreadful disappointed to have missed you!
PODB. (_with an heroic attempt at cheeriness_). We--we're awfully
disappointed to have missed _them_, Mr. Trotter. Afraid we can't stop
now! Good-bye!
[CULCHARD _pulls his hat-brim over his eyes and makes a sign to the
gondoliers to get on quickly_; MR. TROTTER _comments with audible
astonishment on their departure to_ BOB, _who preserves a discreet
silence_.