PROFESSOR. No, no, Doctor, I was _not_. I-- Well, now what I want to
tell you is this. When I began to think that there was something real
about it after all, I--then, I’m sorry to say, I let myself go, and I
pursued it--all over the room.
DOCTOR. Any good?
PROFESSOR. None whatever. I knocked over a few things, that’s all. I
was picking them up just before you came in.
DOCTOR. Well, and then?
(_The_ PROFESSOR’S _eye travels toward the chest; but he is
unable to confess himself quite honestly._)
PROFESSOR. Then--it disappeared.
DOCTOR. And you haven’t seen it since?
PROFESSOR. No.
DOCTOR. Nor heard it?
PROFESSOR. I have not--. That is, _no_.
DOCTOR. Well, then, that’s all right.
PROFESSOR. I hope so. Doctor, I haven’t quite explained to you the
shock it was to me. It was that terrible moment when I thought that,
after all, there might be something in it! At that moment I saw all
my life’s work disappear. All my science, all my philosophy--gone!
Everything I had written--worth nothing!
DOCTOR. Well, well, but don’t dwell on it!
PROFESSOR. It was terrible!
DOCTOR. But it wasn’t true.
PROFESSOR. No-- But for a moment it seemed true. That is really
what--what gave me such a shock.
DOCTOR. Well, it’s over. Now, don’t think any more of it. That is the
best cure. You say you haven’t been sleepless?
PROFESSOR. No--but I shall be.
DOCTOR. Oh, no. We’ll see to that! I’ll send you the right thing.
To-night you’ll sleep like a top. (_He gets up to go._)
PROFESSOR. Thank you. Good-bye. (_The_ DOCTOR _starts to go_) You don’t
think that I’m really off my head, do you?
DOCTOR. No, no, Nerves a little bit upset, that’s all!--a little
too much work, a little too much sitting still, a little too much
indoors--and a little too much green tea. Many a little makes a mickle.
PROFESSOR. I don’t want it to occur again, Doctor.
DOCTOR. It shan’t, sir, it shan’t! Now, good-bye; I must be off!
PROFESSOR. Thank you. Good-bye. (_The_ DOCTOR _goes out. The_ PROFESSOR
_stands looking at the chest_) And to think how I saw it go in there!
(_He goes and stands by the chest; listens for a long time, then taps_)
Is anyone--?--Is anything there?--Ah! That’s all right, then!--I hope.
(_He goes back to his seat. Then his eye falls on the key; he takes
hold of it, and is about to get up again. With an effort he sits back,
letting the key go_) No, I will not!-- But suppose--suppose it were
there after all! No, no, no--. It wouldn’t do at all. Everybody would
think that I was mad-- Well, I must--I must try to get on with my work.
(_He composes himself to write. Presently there enters an attractive
little figure in a knitted cap, jersey, and skirt of bright green. This
is_ ELFRIDA. _She advances very quietly, with a roguish smile, stops
at the table and stands looking at him. Suddenly, with the tail of his
eye, the_ PROFESSOR _catches sight of her. It gives him a dreadful
start; but a look at her over the top of his glasses reassures him_)
Effie! Why, Effie, my dear, what a start you gave me!
ELFRIDA. (_Getting nearer the truth than she knows_) You thought I was
a fairy.
PROFESSOR. No, I didn’t think you were a fairy. I thought you were an
hallucination!
ELFRIDA. What’s that?
PROFESSOR. Something that’s not real, my dear.
(ELFRIDA _has sidled round to the back of his chair; and now,
from behind, she gives him an affectionate hug._)
ELFRIDA. _I’m_ real.
PROFESSOR. Thank God for that!-- Well?
ELFRIDA. Oh, Grandpapa, I’ve had such a lovely time! You got my letter?
PROFESSOR. Yes, my dear-- Oh, by the way, you’ve come just too late.
ELFRIDA. What for?
PROFESSOR. The Doctor, my dear. I wanted him to see you.
ELFRIDA. Why?
PROFESSOR. To tell me how you are.
ELFRIDA. But I’m quite well--ever so well!
PROFESSOR. I hope so, my dear, but one never knows.
ELFRIDA. _I_ do! And Grandpapa, you got my present, didn’t you?
PROFESSOR. Your present?
ELFRIDA. In my letter--What came off the tree that had fairies in it.
PROFESSOR. Oh, yes, yes. It’s somewhere about here. (_He starts to
search, then remembers_) Oh, no! It blew away:--it’s on the floor
somewhere.
ELFRIDA. And you _do_ believe what I told you--don’t you, Grandpapa?
PROFESSOR. Well--I’ve thought about it.
ELFRIDA. It was _true_-- I _saw_ them! You must believe that!
PROFESSOR. Well, I don’t know-- One isn’t sure. So you’ve had a good
time, eh?
ELFRIDA. Grandpapa-- If you could only make people _know_ there were
fairies, wouldn’t it be wonderful?
PROFESSOR. I suppose it would be, my dear.
ELFRIDA. But no one believes in them now, do they?
PROFESSOR. No, not usually.
ELFRIDA. Grandpapa, if you were ever able to find one--wouldn’t it be
grand?
PROFESSOR. Would it, my dear?
ELFRIDA. Did you ever try?
PROFESSOR. Once I did, for a short time. But if I were to, no one would
believe me.
ELFRIDA. Oh, but if you found it and showed it to them, they’d have to.
PROFESSOR. Yes, I suppose they would, my dear.
ELFRIDA. And then you’d be ever such a great person--much greater than
you are now!
PROFESSOR. But my dear, you--you don’t understand. If people were told
that Professor Braintree believed in fairies--why, they would _laugh_!
ELFRIDA. You’d laugh, too--but you could laugh longer than they would.
PROFESSOR. Eh?
ELFRIDA. Why, it would be like a miracle! People would begin to _love_
fairies again, then.
PROFESSOR. Well--perhaps. Green isn’t my favorite color.
ELFRIDA. It’s funny your saying that! The fairy _I_ saw was green.
PROFESSOR. Was it?
ELFRIDA. And it had long horns, and its mouth and eyes were just like
a young bird’s (_This almost startles the_ PROFESSOR _out of his skin.
Blinking and munching, he sits staring, while_ ELFRIDA _continues to
deal her devastating blows_) And it ran round behind the tree, and when
I got there, it was gone. If you’d been there, Grandpapa, to run round
the other way----
PROFESSOR. Run round?
ELFRIDA. And if you’d had your butterfly net--(_This gives the_
PROFESSOR _a fresh jerk_) Why, we could have caught it!
PROFESSOR. Well, I’m not so sure--? Perhaps.
ELFRIDA. But, Grandpapa, you _are_ believing what I tell you, aren’t
you?-- I saw it--_really_ I did!
PROFESSOR. I would like to believe it, my dear--It would make a great
difference to my state of health. When you saw it, didn’t it upset you?
ELFRIDA. No!
PROFESSOR. It didn’t frighten you?
ELFRIDA. No! Why?
PROFESSOR. Not even when you ran after it?
ELFRIDA. Why, no! Of course it ran, too. But it was quite nice about it.
PROFESSOR. Was it, indeed?
ELFRIDA. It made a noise at me--just like a bird--a nice bird.
PROFESSOR. Did it say “Sick, sick, sick, sick?”
ELFRIDA. No; it only went “Chewee! Chewee!”--just like that!
PROFESSOR. Then I’m _not_ mad after all!
ELFRIDA. Grandpapa, what’s the matter?
PROFESSOR. My dear--you would really _like_ to see that--that thing
again?
ELFRIDA. Why, yes!
PROFESSOR. Green, and with horns, and eyes?--Hear it again?
ELFRIDA. Yes.
PROFESSOR. Run after it again?--with a butterfly net?
ELFRIDA. And catch it? Oh, yes!
PROFESSOR. Well, my dear, there’s--there’s no accounting for tastes.
But I begin to think that I’m not so mad as I thought I was.
ELFRIDA. I never thought you were mad, Grandpapa.
PROFESSOR. Thank you, my dear. I’m glad of that-- Now, look here, you
see that chest? This is the key to it-- Now, will you go and open it?
And don’t be afraid of anything you find in it--It’s all right.
(ELFRIDA _goes and opens the chest. And while she stands for a
moment looking in, nonplussed, there is much more excitement in
the_ PROFESSOR’S _demeanor than in hers._)
ELFRIDA. But, Grandpapa, there’s nothing! Oh! (_At this cry of
discovery the strain on the_ PROFESSOR’S _feelings grows intense._
ELFRIDA _stoops and picks up something_) Why, it’s the _leaf_!--The
leaf of that tree what I sent you!-- Oh!
PROFESSOR. The leaf, you say?-- Bring it here.
ELFRIDA. And it’s all quite withered and dead! (_She brings it across
to him, and the_ PROFESSOR _looks at it with curious eyes._)
PROFESSOR. So it is, to be sure!-- Quite withered and dead. Well,
there! Put it down, my dear, leave it alone!-- And now you had better
run away. I must get on with my work.
ELFRIDA. What shall I do with it, Grandpapa?
PROFESSOR. Put it in the waste-paper basket, my dear!-- That’s right.
Now, run away!
(_And so the dead leaf drops to its repose on a bed of scrapped
science shiftings. From that fairy-funeral_ ELFRIDA _turns,
down-cast and sad, and with head bent and hands straight as
though under some deep disgrace, goes softly out of the room.
As the door closes behind her the_ PROFESSOR _gives a look into
the waste-paper basket, then heaves a sigh of relief, and goes
on with his work._)
_Curtain._