_An elegantly furnished Drawing-room at_ Dr. HERDAL'S. _In front, on
the left, a Console-table, on which is a large round bottle full of
coloured water. On the right a stove, with a banner-screen made out of
a richly-embroidered chest-protector. On the stove, a stethoscope and
a small galvanic battery. In one corner, a hat and umbrella stand; in
another, a desk, at which stands_ SENNA BLAKDRAF, _making out the
quarterly accounts. Through a glass-door at the back is seen the
Dispensary, where_ RÜBUB KALOMEL _is seated, occupied in rolling a
pill. Both go on working in perfect silence for four minutes and a
half._
_Dr. Haustus Herdal_ (_enters through hall-door; he is elderly, with a
plain sensible countenance, but slightly weak hair and expression_). Come
here, Miss BLAKDRAF. (_Hangs up hat, and throws his mackintosh on a
divan._) Have you made out all those bills yet? [_Looks sternly at her._
_Senna_ (_in a low hesitating voice_). Almost. I have charged each patient
with three attendances daily. Even when you only dropped in for a cup of
tea and a chat. (_Passionately._) I felt I _must_--I _must_!
_Dr. Herd._ (_alters his tone, clasps her head in his hands, and
whispers_). I wish you could make out the bills for me, _always_.
_Senna_ (_in nervous exaltation_). How lovely that would be! Oh, you are so
unspeakably good to me! It is too enthralling to be here!
[_Sinks down and embraces his knees._
_Dr. Herd._ So I've understood. (_With suppressed irritation._) For
goodness' sake, let go my legs! I do _wish_ you wouldn't be so confoundedly
neurotic!
[Illustration: "For goodness' sake, let go my legs!"]
_Rübub_ (_has risen, and comes in through glass-door, breathing with
difficulty; he is a prematurely bald young man of fifty-five, with a
harelip and squints slightly_). I beg pardon, Dr. HERDAL, I see I interrupt
you. (_As SENNA rises._) I have just completed this pill. Have you looked
at it?
[_He offers it for inspection diffidently._
_Dr. Herd._ (_evasively_). It appears to be a pill of the usual dimensions.
_Rübub_ (_cast down_). All these years you have never given me one
encouraging word! _Can't_ you praise my pill?
_Dr. Herd._ (_struggles with himself_). I--I cannot. You should not attempt
to compound pills on your own account.
_Rübub_ (_breathing laboriously_). And yet there was a time when _you_,
too----
_Dr. Herd._ (_complacently_). Yes, it was certainly a pill that came as a
lucky stepping-stone--but not a pill like that!
_Rübub_ (_vehemently_). Listen! Is that your last word? _Is_ my aged mother
to pass out of this world without ever knowing whether I am competent to
construct an effective pill or not?
_Dr. Herd._ (_as if in desperation_). You had better try it upon your
mother--it will enable her to form an opinion. Only mind--I will not be
responsible for the result.
_Rübub._ I understand. Exactly as you tried _your_ pill, all those years
ago, upon Dr. RYVAL. [_He bows, and goes out._
_Dr. Herd._ (_uneasily_). He said that so strangely, SENNA. But tell me
now--when are you going to marry him?
_Senna_ (_starts--half glancing up at him_). I--I don't know. This
year--next-year--now--_never_! I cannot marry him ... I cannot--I
_cannot_--it is so utterly impossible to leave you!
_Dr. Herd._ Yes, I can understand _that_. But, my poor SENNA, hadn't you
better take a little walk?
_Senna_ (_clasps her hands gratefully_). How sweet and thoughtful you are
to me! I _will_ take a walk.
_Dr. Herd._ (_with a suppressed smile_). Do! And--h'm!--you needn't trouble
to come back. I have advertised for a male book-keeper--they are less
emotional. Good-night, my little SENNA!
_Senna_ (_softly, and quiveringly_). Good-night, Dr. HERDAL!
[_Staggers out of the hall-door, blowing kisses._
_Mrs. Herdal_ (_enters through the window, plaintively_). Quite an
acquisition for you, HAUSTUS, this Miss BLAKDRAF!
_Dr. Herd._ She's--h'm!--extremely civil and obliging. But I am parting
with her, ALINE--mainly on _your_ account.
_Mrs. Herd._ (_evades him_). Was it on my account, indeed, HAUSTUS? You
have parted with so many young persons on my account--so you tell me!
_Dr. Herd._ (_depressed_). Oh, but this is hopeless! When I have tried so
hard to bring a ray of sunlight into your desolate life! I must give RÜBUB
KALOMEL notice too--his pill is really too preposterous!
_Mrs. Herd._ (_feels gropingly for a chair, and sits down on the floor_).
Him, _too_! Ah, HAUSTUS, you will never make my home a real home for me. My
poor first husband, HALVARD SOLNESS, tried--and _he_ couldn't! When one has
had such misfortunes as I have--all the family portraits burnt, and the
silk dresses, too, and a pair of twins, and nine lovely dolls.
[_Chokes with tears._
_Dr. Herd._ (_as if to lead her away from the subject_). Yes, yes, yes,
that must have been a heavy blow for you, my poor ALINE. I can understand
that your spirits can never be really high again. And then for poor Master
Builder SOLNESS to be so taken up with that Miss WANGEL as he was--that,
too, was so wretched for you. To see him topple off the tower, as he did
that day ten years ago----
_Mrs. Herd._ Yes, that too, HAUSTUS. But I did not mind it so much--it all
seemed so perfectly natural in both of them.
_Dr. Herd._ Natural! For a girl of twenty-three to taunt a middle-aged
architect, whom she knew to be constitutionally liable to giddiness, never
to let him have any peace till he had climbed a spire as dizzy as
himself--and all for the fun of seeing him fall off--how in the world----!
_Mrs. Herd._ (_laying the table for supper with dried fish and punch_). The
younger generation have a keener sense of humour than we elder ones,
HAUSTUS, and perhaps, after all, she was only a perplexing sort of
allegory.
_Dr. Herd._ Yes, that would explain her to some extent, no doubt. But how
_he_ could be such an old fool!
_Mrs. Herd._ That Miss WANGEL was a strangely fascinating type of girl.
Why, even I myself----
_Dr. Herd._ (_sits down and takes some fish_). Fascinating? Well, goodness
knows, I couldn't see _that_ at all. (_Seriously._) Has it never struck
you, ALINE, that elderly Norwegians are so deucedly impressionable--mere
bundles of overstrained nerves, hypersensitive ganglia. Except, of course,
the Medical Profession.
_Mrs. Herd._ Yes, of course; those in that profession are not so inclined
to gangle. And when one has succeeded by such a stroke of luck as you
have----
_Dr. Herd._ (_drinks a glass of punch_). You're right enough there. If I
had not been called in to prescribe for Dr. RYVAL, who used to have the
leading practice here, I should never have stepped so wonderfully into his
shoes as I did. (_Changes to a tone of quiet chuckling merriment._) Let me
tell you a funny story, ALINE; it sounds a ludicrous thing--but all my good
fortune here was based upon a simple little pill. For if Dr. RYVAL had
never taken it----
_Mrs. Herd._ (_anxiously_). Then you _do_ think it was the pill that caused
him to----?
_Dr. Herd._ On the contrary; I am perfectly sure the pill had nothing
whatever to do with it--the inquest made it quite clear that it was really
the liniment. But don't you see, ALINE, what tortures me night and day is
the thought that it _might_ unconsciously have been the pill which----Never
to be free from _that_! To have such a thought gnawing and burning
always--always, like a moral mustard poultice! (_He takes more punch._)
_Mrs. Herd._ Yes; I suppose there is a poultice of that sort burning on
every breast--and we must never take it off either--it is our simple duty
to keep it on. I too, HAUSTUS, am haunted by a fancy that if this Miss
WANGEL were to ring at our bell now----
_Dr. Herd._ After she has been lost sight of for ten years? She is safe
enough in some Sanatorium, depend upon it. And what if she _did_ come? Do
you think, my dear good woman, that I--a sensible clear-headed general
practitioner, who have found out all I know for myself--would let her play
the deuce with me as she did with poor HALVARD? No, general practitioners
don't _do_ such things--even in Norway!
_Mrs. Herd._ Don't they indeed, HAUSTUS? (_The Surgery-bell rings loudly._)
Did you hear _that_? There she is! I will go and put on my best cap. It is
my duty to show her _that_ small attention.
_Dr. Herd._ (_laughing nervously_). Why, what on earth!----It's the
night-bell. It is most probably the new book-keeper! (Mrs. HERDAL _goes
out_; Dr. HERDAL _rises with difficulty, and opens the door_.) Goodness
gracious!--it _is_ that girl, after all!
_Hilda Wangel_ (_enters through the Dispensary door. She wears a divided
skirt, thick boots, and a Tam o'Shanter, with an eagle's wing in it.
Somewhat freckled. Carries a green tin cylinder slung round her, and a rug
in a strap. Goes straight up to_ HERDAL, _her eyes sparkling with
happiness_). How are you? I've run you down, you see! The ten years are up.
Isn't it scrumptiously thrilling, to see me like this?
_Dr. Herd._ (_politely retreating_). It is--very much so--but still I don't
in the least understand----
_Hilda_ (_measures him with a glance_). Oh, you _will_. I have come to be
of use to you. I've no luggage, and no money. Not that _that_ makes any
difference. I never _have_. And I've been allured and attracted here. You
surely know how these things come about? [_Throws her arms round him._
_Dr. Herd._ What the deuce! Miss WANGEL, you _mustn't_. I'm a married man!
There's my wife! [Mrs. HERD. _enters_.
_Hilda._ As if _that_ mattered--it's only dear, sweet Mrs. SOLNESS. _She_
doesn't mind--_do_ you, dear Mrs. SOLNESS?
_Mrs. Herd._ It does not seem to be of much _use_ minding, Miss WANGEL. I
presume you have come to stay?
_Hilda_ (_in amused surprise_). Why, of course--what else should I come
for? I _always_ come to stay, until--h'm!
[_Nods slowly, and sits down at table._
_Dr. Herd._ (_involuntarily_). She's drinking my punch! If she thinks I'm
going to stand this sort of thing, she's mistaken. I'll soon show her a
Pill-Doctor is a very different kind of person from a mere Master Builder!
[HILDA _finishes the punch with an indefinable expression in her eyes,
and_ Dr. HERDAL _looks on gloomily as the Curtain falls. End of First
Act._
* * * * *
"AMONG THE MEMORABLE BOOKS OF THE PRESENT RAINE."--Canon RAINE has just
published (_per_ LONGMANS) his _York_, as one of the series of Historic
Towns. The proofs of RAINE on _York_ of course came very moist from the
press. Is there a frontispiece to it of "RAINE poring over his own book?"
The work is highly spoken of,--so _disons_, "_Vive le Raine!_"
* * * * *
Mr. WILSON BARRETT is to appear in a play called _Pharaoh_--"What the
plague!"--Is he coming out as an Egyptian Mummer? Will the drama prove
interesting to plague-goers?
* * * * *