MRS. AKERS: The _results_, you mean?
MRS. LLOYD-EVANS: Oh, the baby. In these sad cases, one almost hopes
that it may not live, dreadful though it sounds to say such a thing.
MRS. AKERS: My husband tells me that in his experience, illegitimate
children are often particularly strong and healthy infants.
MRS. LLOYD-EVANS: God’s ways are not our ways.
MRS. AKERS (_to Mrs. Ballantyne_): But in this case, of course, the
child will be taken away the minute it’s born, and the mother will
probably never set eyes on it at all. It’s taken to some Institution
where they look after it, and that gives the mother a chance of living
it down. Especially when she’s so young.
MRS. LLOYD-EVANS: The grandmother said something about the baby, as she
called it, but of course I stopped that at once. They can hardly earn
enough to keep themselves, as it is, and if there was any question
of Fanny being allowed to keep the child, it would simply amount, as
I told her, to putting a premium upon immorality. Of course, if one
knew who the man was, pressure could be brought to bear on him, but I
don’t believe for an instant that it’s a case of the girl having been
seduced. She’s probably a thorough little bad lot. Quite likely she
doesn’t know who the father is. I’m told that some of these London
girls are frightfully--promiscuous.
MRS. AKERS: I don’t know how to believe that--at fifteen! I’m afraid it
may have been somebody down here, you know.
MRS. LLOYD-EVANS: Oh please don’t suggest such a thing. It’s the last
thing we want to have established. Just think of the talk! As it is,
if we don’t press the question, we can get the girl away quietly and
nothing be known about it.
MRS. BALLANTYNE: You think we shan’t get anything out of her?
MRS. LLOYD-EVANS: Nothing, nor her mother either, according to her own
account. The old grandmother began some story about an assault having
perhaps been made on the girl, and she too frightened to tell; but as
I said, if that sort of thing was new to her, a girl’s first impulse
would be to rush to her mother with the story, and if she didn’t, it
only showed that she thought nothing of it.
MRS. AKERS (_thoughtfully_): I wonder if _I_ could get anything out of
her? I’ve a very good mind to go home that way. One dreads having to
deal with this sort of sad case, but after all, it’s charity. I could
put the old grandmother into her place once and for all, as you say
she’s disposed to be tiresome, and make Fanny herself understand that
we only want to help her. After all, we’ve all read our Bible, I hope:
“Which amongst you shall cast the first stone?”
MRS. BALLANTYNE: As the mother of a girl myself, I was wondering if _I_
ought not to talk to Fanny, perhaps. Goodness knows, it’s a miserable
affair, but the world is what it is, and it’s no use _shrinking_ from
these things.
MRS. LLOYD-EVANS (_displeased_): As it was I who made this very sad and
perplexing discovery, I think I had better be the person to see the
business through. Naturally, one consults the Committee, but I can’t
help feeling that there had better be only one intermediary between the
Committee and the girl’s family. It’s more business-like, and one must
be business-like.
MRS. BALLANTYNE: Oh, certainly!
MRS. AKERS: But this isn’t an official meeting, is it? We’ve had no
notes taken, or anything. And we haven’t passed any resolution. Now, I
should like to propose that I write to-night to St. Mary Magdalene’s
Home and try and arrange to get Fanny taken in there as soon as
possible, and kept till after the birth of the child.
MRS. BALLANTYNE: I second that.
MRS. LLOYD-EVANS: Proposed and seconded. Those in favour--(_they each
lift up a hand_). Those against.... Carried unanimously, I think.
MRS. AKERS: Now, is there anything more we can do?
MRS. LLOYD-EVANS: I don’t think so. If there are any further
developments, I will let you know, of course. I mean, if one can get
any admission out of the girl, for instance. She seemed to me perfectly
stolid and bewildered, but one doesn’t want to risk upsetting her,
naturally. It would be extremely annoying if anything happened before
we can get her away.
MRS. BALLANTYNE: What did they say about her health? Is she all right?
MRS. LLOYD-EVANS: Perfectly all right. Why shouldn’t she be--a young,
healthy girl like that!
MRS. AKERS: After all, it’s nature.
MRS. LLOYD-EVANS: I don’t call it nature at all, at fifteen. I call
it _sin_. (_Rises, and goes to put on her coat. The other two remain
seated._)
MRS. BALLANTYNE (_shuddering_): Fifteen! Just think of it! My Phyllis
is only two years older. Thank heaven, I’ve been able to keep her as
innocent as a baby. She knows _nothing_--absolutely nothing.
MRS. AKERS: Innocence is such a safeguard.
MRS. BALLANTYNE: What I shall tell her about this meeting, I really
don’t know. Unfortunately, she knew where I was coming, and I shall
have to invent something to tell her in case she asks any questions
about it, as she’s certain to do. Luckily, I think she trusts me
absolutely.
MRS. AKERS: Come home to tea with me, dear Mrs. Ballantyne. It will
help to take both our minds off the whole sad subject.
MRS. BALLANTYNE: How very kind of you! I should love to. We must try
and forget all about it for the time being.
MRS. AKERS: I can’t help wondering how Fanny could have managed to
deceive her mother for so long.
MRS. BALLANTYNE: I must say, I should have thought any woman with eyes
in her head----
MRS. AKERS: Yes, and besides, why didn’t the girl, if she was a
respectable girl, go _straight_ to her mother when----
(_Mrs. Akers and Mrs. Ballantyne, lean across the table, talking busily
about Fanny’s behaviour, both at once. Meanwhile Mrs. Lloyd-Evans,
who has now got her furs on, stands as though listening to some sound
outside the door, unnoticed by the other two. She tiptoes rapidly to
the door and flings it open. Miss Miller is crouching outside, having
evidently been listening. One side of her face is scarlet where it has
been pressed to the door, the other white. She rises awkwardly as the
door opens, but not before they have all seen her._)
MRS. LLOYD-EVANS: I _thought_ so!
MISS MILLER (_wildly_): What did you think, Mrs. Lloyd-Evans? That I’ve
been listening at the door? So I have! That I’ve overheard all your
charitable plans for Fanny Smith and her illegitimate child? So I have!
MRS. AKERS: You should be ashamed of yourself.
MRS. BALLANTYNE: What’s the meaning of this?
MISS MILLER: I’ll tell you. You said just now that the world is what it
is--there’s no use in shrinking from things--shrinking from them! Ha,
ha, ha! (_she laughs hysterically_). You’re a great deal more likely to
jump at them. But if you want to have my explanation, you shall have it.
MRS. LLOYD-EVANS (_pointing to the door_): Miss Miller, leave the room.
(_Miss Miller looks at her, still laughing, then turns the key in the
door, shutting and locking it._)
MISS MILLER: I shan’t leave the room, nor you either, till you’ve heard
what I’ve got to say.
MRS. AKERS: Good heavens, she’s mad!
MRS. LLOYD-EVANS (_advancing resolutely_): Give me that key this moment
(_putting out her hand for it_).
(_Miss Miller, too quick for her, dashes to the window, throwing up the
sash, and flings out the key. During the rest of the scene she stands
with her back to the open window, while the three other women are
grouped together behind the table, at the further side of the room._)
MISS MILLER (_her voice has grown cunning, and bitterly and vehemently
ironical both at once. She gives the impression of dementia_): _I_
knew what you were going to talk about. _She_ (_pointing to Mrs.
Akers_) gave it away when she said it must be “the usual thing.” Of
course I listened, to hear what you’d do for Fanny--poor Fanny, who’s
going to bring a little baby into the world, and who’s been ill and
terrified and unhappy, all these months. And you (_to Mrs. Lloyd-Evans,
bitter mockery in her tone_) found it out, and you asked these other
kind, charitable, rich ladies to come and meet you here, so that you
could all talk it over, and make plans about Fanny. (_Suddenly and
viciously_): And oh, how you all _enjoyed_ it--didn’t you--telling each
other how painful it was, and how sad, and how you could hardly put it
into words!
(_Fiercely_): Why, you nearly scratched one another’s eyes out for the
fun of going to Fanny’s mother, and “putting the old grandmother into
her place” and putting Fanny through the Third Degree, nagging and
nagging at her to _tell_, so that you could hear more shocking details,
and come and gloat over them.
(_Mimicking_): “Oh, but we want to help her,” and “girlhood is so
_sacred_.” (_To Mrs. Ballantyne_): Yes, you said that several times,
didn’t you, you who are so thankful that your girl _trusts_ you--so
that when you cheat her and tell little lies for her own good, the poor
little fool swallows it. She won’t always swallow it, you know--she’ll
find you out one day. Just like I’ve found out, what charity means and
what’s done to girls who sin and get found out. I had to know, you see,
because--I’ve done what Fanny did----
(_The women cry out, below their breath._)
MISS MILLER: You needn’t be frightened--it isn’t anyone down here.
That’s what you’re afraid of, isn’t it--that it may all end up tamely
after all, with a hasty marriage, and nothing left to talk about!
You’d like to hustle me away, like Fanny, to somewhere that will take
your money, and make you feel all nice and glowing and charitable--and
where they’ll “take away the baby, and the mother probably never sets
eyes on it at all.” To be allowed to keep it, would “put a premium on
immorality” wouldn’t it? Ha, ha, ha! I’ve been frightened all these
weeks, but I’m not frightened any more now. Something went snap inside
my head, I think, all in a minute, while I was listening to all of
you. I’d thought of appealing to you, you see--such kind ladies, all
given over to works of charity! If you’re the _charitable_ (_laughing
wildly_) what would _other_ people say? No, no, no--I’ll not be like
Fanny, I’ve thought of a better plan than any of yours!
(_She springs on to the sill of the open window. Mrs. Akers cries “Stop
her!” and they dash forward, but the table impedes them, and Miss
Miller, still laughing, throws herself out._
_The curtain falls as Mrs. Lloyd-Evans, screaming, pulls at the locked
door, and the other two women throw themselves against the window and
look downwards._)