me a new frock. (_Looking at her hands._) Oh, dear! I wish it were gloves.
MICHAEL.
(_With fascinated eyes._) A dozen pair....
CLARE.
All right—five and three-quarters. Now then—pins.
MICHAEL.
Pins?
CLARE.
Yes, pins. Look alive!
MICHAEL.
(_Going._) I’ll be back in a moment.
CLARE.
No, stay here. Your tie-pin will do for one. I’ve a safety-pin here
(_fiddling at her waist_), and another somewhere in my collar.... Bring a
cushion here.
MICHAEL.
A cushion?...
CLARE.
(_Still searching for her pins._) Yes—a cushion. (_In a dazed way he
fetches one from LADY PATRICIA’S chair._) Put it down.
MICHAEL.
The cushion?...
(_He stands helplessly holding the cushion, then puts it
back, on the chair._)
CLARE.
Don’t play the giddy goat, Mike! Put the cushion on the ground.
MICHAEL.
Oh, yes—yes, of course.
(_He places it at her feet._)
CLARE.
Kneel down.
MICHAEL.
Eh?
CLARE.
Kneel on the cushion. I want to spare your old joints.
MICHAEL.
Oh....
(_He kneels with a mirthless laugh._)
CLARE.
Now we’ll see if you’re worth your keep. Here are two safety-pins. Make
that tear look respectable.
MICHAEL.
But——
CLARE.
If these safety-pins aren’t enough, use your tie-pin.
MICHAEL.
(_Setting to work._) Very well.
CLARE.
I shall want you afterwards to fasten up the hooks behind.... (_A
pause._) How are you getting on?
MICHAEL.
All right, thanks.
(_He works at her skirt for a moment in silence._)
CLARE.
(_Abruptly._) What’s that boy like?
MICHAEL.
What boy?
CLARE.
Bill O’Farrel.
MICHAEL.
He’s given you a fair specimen of himself in the silly prank he played
just now.
CLARE.
Oh, that seemed to me rather a sporting thing to do.
MICHAEL.
A sporting thing!
CLARE.
Yes. To make an utter ass of himself, and then carry it off with a string
of lies. How are you getting on?
MICHAEL.
(_Surveying his handiwork._) I think that looks better.
CLARE.
It’ll have to do, anyhow.... Now for the hooks. (_MICHAEL sets to work
at the back of her dress._) Begin at the top. I daresay some of the eyes
have got torn. I gave the dress an awful wrench on the tree. Do the best
you can.... Oh, don’t fumble about like that!
(_MICHAEL’S hands tremble as he works. A pause._)
MICHAEL.
(_In a low voice._) Clare....
CLARE.
Well?
MICHAEL.
I love you....
(_A long pause. He stares with breathless expectation at
the back of her head. She looks straight before her._)
CLARE.
Have you finished all the hooks?
MICHAEL.
The hooks?... I—I beg your pardon.... (_He goes on with his work for a
time in silence._) Are you angry with me?
CLARE.
I don’t know.
MICHAEL.
You must have known for some time that I loved you.
CLARE.
(_Turning on him._) Then why do you always annoy me by making love to—to
your wife when I’m there? (_MICHAEL still kneels on the cushion, looking
up at her with abject eyes._) Why don’t you speak?
MICHAEL.
Clare——
CLARE.
(_With a sudden burst of laughter._) Oh, get up from that cushion!
You don’t know what a fool you look! (_MICHAEL gets up with a pained
expression and stands staring tragically before him. A pause. She speaks
in a gentler voice._) Well, Mike?
MICHAEL.
Since I have spoken so much and done you wrong and Patricia wrong, I must
tell you all and throw myself on your mercy.... When I married Patricia
I sincerely believed I loved her. She seemed to me a kindred spirit—with
her sensitive, beautiful nature. I found out too late that love depends
as often on mutual difference as mutual sympathy. My love for her never
went deeper than the intellect. Oh, the tragedy of it! She is such a
fair, white soul, and so worthy of my whole love!...
CLARE.
If you don’t love her, why do you pretend to?
MICHAEL.
Can’t you see—can’t you see I have no alternative? Patricia’s love for
me is unearthly in its depth and intensity. She worships me, little as
I deserve it. If for one moment she thought my love had slackened, that
moment would be her last. You don’t know how sensitive she is.... Do you
suppose, Clare, I enjoy playing this dreadful game? But I must—it is my
duty. I have sworn to love and cherish her.
CLARE.
(_After a pause, going up to him._) Michael, how long have you loved me?
MICHAEL.
Almost since first I met you, you wild thing! You soul of youth and
incarnation of the morning!
(_He looks longingly down at her._)
CLARE.
Oh, you poor old thing! (_She looks up sideways at him._) Mike, you may
if you like.
MICHAEL.
Clare....
(_He hesitates._)
CLARE.
Get it over soon. (_He bends down and kisses her reverently, then turns
away from her with tragic eyes._) Didn’t you like it?...
MICHAEL.
But the wrong I am doing you, and the wrong I am doing Patricia....
CLARE.
But if Patricia doesn’t know and I don’t mind, I don’t see where the
wrong comes in.... Do you?
MICHAEL.
(_Taking her hands._) Do you love me, Clare?
CLARE.
I don’t know.... Yes, I think I do. You’re such a solemn old donkey!...
Michael, if I love you, will it really make you a happier man?
MICHAEL.
Happier? Oh, my dear, with the knowledge of your love I should be able to
endure anything!
CLARE.
Even Patricia?
MICHAEL.
Hush, Clare, hush!... Patricia’s is a pure and delicate soul. It is I who
am unworthy, since I cannot return her wonderful love.... Little girl,
do you understand that this love of yours may bring much suffering into
your life? I can never, by word or deed, change my attitude towards
Patricia—never! She must never know that I do not love her.... And what
of us? Our love must stand alone in the world. It must be something
wholly pure and noble and self-sacrificing—the love that asks for
nothing, that hopes for nothing—the love of the angels that neither marry
nor are given in marriage.... Do you realise all this?
CLARE.
Yes.... You see, Mike, I always believe in platonic love.
MICHAEL.
(_A little doubtfully._) Platonic....
CLARE.
Well, platonic lovers _do_ kiss each other now and then ... don’t they?
MICHAEL.
(_Solemnly._) I believe they do.
CLARE.
And, Mike....
MICHAEL.
Well?
CLARE.
I don’t want you to give me that frock.
MICHAEL.
But——
CLARE.
Or the gloves.
MICHAEL.
But why not, Clare? I don’t understand....
CLARE.
Don’t you, old boy? Neither do I. But I’d much rather you didn’t—now.
MICHAEL.
Surely, dear——
(_LADY PATRICIA’S voice is heard speaking beneath._)
CLARE.
Hush!... And I’m going home now. Don’t try to prevent me, like a good
chap. And I want to walk back alone.
(_LADY PATRICIA emerges speaking to BALDWIN, who follows
her._)
LADY PATRICIA.
We’ve come just at the wonderful moment, Baldwin. All the west is a
ritual of gold. (_She has a wrap over her of a wonderful sunset hue and a
white lily in her hand._) Here’s poor Baldwin deeply grieved because he’s
shooed away every time he gets to work!
MICHAEL.
He didn’t seem to be doing anything particular, dearest, when I sent him
away.
LADY PATRICIA.
But, Michael——
(_BALDWIN, with his shears and saws, crosses to the right
and examines the sunset._)
CLARE.
Don’t you remember he was keeping a h’eye on the sun?
LADY PATRICIA.
But, Clare! What a dreadful state you’re in!
CLARE.
I know. Your trees are shockingly dirty. You really ought to get Baldwin
to scrub them with soap and water!... Lady Patricia, I hope you won’t
think me very rude if I run away. I had quite forgotten it was father’s
sermon night when I accepted Mr. Cosway’s invitation to dinner. I always
help him with his sermons.
LADY PATRICIA.
You, my dear child!
CLARE.
I verify the quotations and prune the adjectives.... Then you’ll forgive
me?
LADY PATRICIA.
Sweet girl! (_She strokes CLARE’S unwilling face._) I’m very sorry,
because I’m going to do such a wicked and decadent thing at dinner. You
see this lily? So virginal and nun-like! I am going to put her into a
glassful of wine and make her tipsy.
CLARE.
Oh!...
LADY PATRICIA.
You must come some other evening. We are both so very fond of you.
CLARE.
Good-bye. Good-bye, Mr. Cosway.
MICHAEL.
Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?
CLARE.
Quite, thanks. Good-bye.
(_She goes out._)
LADY PATRICIA.
She seems to be in a chastened frame of mind.
MICHAEL.
Perhaps she’s not quite well.
LADY PATRICIA.
(_Holding out her hands to him._) Michael....
MICHAEL.
(_Taking her hands._) Dearest!
LADY PATRICIA.
It will be just—just you and I!
MICHAEL.
You and I, Patricia!
LADY PATRICIA.
You needn’t stay, Baldwin.
BALDWIN.
(_Who is still staring into the sunset._) Beg pardon, mum?
LADY PATRICIA.
You needn’t stay.
BALDWIN.
But if you’ll excuse my sayin’ so, mum, the sun——
LADY PATRICIA.
Another time, Baldwin.
BALDWIN.
Yes, ’m.
(_He goes out slowly._)
LADY PATRICIA.
Just you and I, Michael.... Kiss me.
MICHAEL.
(_Kissing her._) Just you and I.
LADY PATRICIA.
You and I and the sunset....
(END OF THE FIRST ACT.)
THE SECOND ACT
SCENE:—_The same, except for an extra ladder which LADY PATRICIA has had
built up to the platform on the left. It is a beautiful night in early
June. The full moon spreads a network of shadows on the platform, and a
few large stars twinkle through the leaves. Suspended from the branches
by pieces of silken string attached to nails driven into the trunk of
the tree are several elaborate Chinese lanterns. Empty coffee-cups and
liqueur glasses stand on two small tables in the background. There are
one or two chairs about in addition to LADY PATRICIA’S deck-chair._
(_When the curtain rises, BALDWIN is seen slowly entering
on the left. He has a bundle of small candles in his hand.
He looks anxiously from lantern to lantern. Suddenly one
of them goes out._)
BALDWIN.
Ho! (_He unfastens the string from the nail and lowers the lantern
with deliberation, muttering._) Them little lanterns do burn uncommon
quick.... Whoa! (_Fixes fresh candle in the lantern._) Uncommon quick
... drat ’em.... (_Pulls up the lantern._) Whoa!
(_While he fastens the string on to the nail LADY
PATRICIA’S voice is heard singing divinely in the
distance. BALDWIN listens for a moment. The singing
ceases. He shakes his head gloomily, glances into the
tree, and another lantern goes out._)
Ho!... (_He lowers the lantern._) Whoa.... (_Fixing the fresh candle._)
They do burn oncommon quick—drat ’em.... (_Pulls up the lantern._)
Whoa....
(_After fixing the string, he retires slowly into the
shadowy background and stands motionless, staring from
lantern to lantern. Suddenly BILL O’FARREL enters
hurriedly by the ladder in the centre. He is in evening
dress. He does not see BALDWIN, who merely glances at him
and then resumes his upward scrutiny. BILL throws himself
into LADY PATRICIA’S deck-chair._)
BILL.
Whew.... safe! (_He lights a cigarette._)
(_Suddenly close beneath LADY PATRICIA’S voice is heard
singing with desultory beauty. BILL springs to his feet._)
Damn!
(_He tiptoes cautiously to the edge of the platform and
peeps over. The bird-like snatches of song grow nearer._)
Damn!
(_He crosses softly and quickly to the ladder on the left,
and with a scared look over his shoulder, disappears just
as LADY PATRICIA, in a gown of shimmering wonder, emerges
by the ladder in the centre. She stops singing and looks
around._)
LADY PATRICIA.
(_Flutingly._) Bill.... Bill.... (_She perceives the shadowy figure of
BALDWIN and makes a quick movement with outstretched arms towards it._)
Ah, my dear!
BALDWIN.
Beg pardon, m’lady?
LADY PATRICIA.
Oh!... Baldwin! How amusing!... I was looking for—Mr. Cosway. Has he been
here?
BALDWIN.
Yes’m.
LADY PATRICIA.
Oh, when?
BALDWIN.
’E took corfee ’ere with your ladyship, mum, and ’is Very Reverence, and
the young lady and Mrs. O’Farrel and Mr. O’Farrel.
LADY PATRICIA.
Sometimes, Baldwin, I wonder whether your amazing futility may not be a
conscious pose.
BALDWIN.
Beg pardon, mum?
LADY PATRICIA.
Oh, never mind....
(_She goes out on the left, humming sweetly. BALDWIN
retires to the background and resumes his lantern watch.
CLARE enters by the central ladder quickly in breathless
condition and drops into the deck-chair. BALDWIN,
unperceived, glances at her, then looks up at the lanterns
again._)
CLARE.
Safe! (_With a sigh of relief she lights a cigarette._)
(_Suddenly MICHAEL’S voice is heard beneath calling
softly._)
MICHAEL.
Clare—Clare....
CLARE.
Damn! (_She springs to her feet, crosses quickly to the left, and
descends as MICHAEL’S head emerges up the central ladder._)
MICHAEL.
Clare.... (_Looks around and perceives the vague form of BALDWIN._)
Clare, my—— Oh! I was looking for Lady Patricia. Have you seen her,
Baldwin?
BALDWIN.
Yessir.
MICHAEL.
Oh.... Has she been here?
BALDWIN.
Yessir.
MICHAEL.
When?
BALDWIN.
Beg pardon, sir?
MICHAEL.
(_Impatiently._) When was Lady Patricia here?
BALDWIN.
Well, sir, it may ’a been two minutes ago, sir, or it may ’a been——
MICHAEL.
Thank you.
(_He goes out on the left, while BALDWIN continues_:)
BALDWIN.
Or it may ’a been three. ’Er ladyship were looking for you, sir. She arst
me, sir—— (_Perceiving the vanity of continuing his reminiscences he
looks up and a lantern goes out._) Ho! (_Lowers the lantern._) Whoa!...
(_Enter ELLIS up the central ladder, carrying a tray with
whisky-and-soda._)
ELLIS.
Good evening, Mr. Baldwin.
BALDWIN.
Them candles do burn oncommon quick.... You was sayin’, Mr. Ellis?
ELLIS.
I said good evening.
BALDWIN.
Whoa!... (_Fixes the string._) Good evening to you.
ELLIS.
(_Clearing coffee-cups, &c., and setting the whisky-and-soda._) It beats
me what the company are up to to-night. After dinner they all went
for a stroll down to the pond. ’Er ladyship wanted to see—(_imitates
PATRICIA_)—“the great moon-flower’s reflection among the lilies.” Then
they seem to ’ave separated. The old people are behaving themselves quite
rational—playing bézique in the drawing-room. The others are playing the
tomfool or ’ide-and-seek or something o’ the sort.
BALDWIN.
’Iding-seek? Are they now! That minds me as ’ow I onct played ’iding-seek
with Mrs. Baldwin as was my first wife—she weren’t my wife then—an’ found
’er—(_he chuckles_)—and found ’er—(_chuckles_)—in the middle of the
bed!...
(_ELLIS guffaws._)
A rose bed it wer’. “Maidens’ blush” they was, jest fur all the world
same as ’er purty face. So I gives her sutting wot to blush for. That I
did. Dang it! Yus, I did.
ELLIS.
You seem to ’ave lived your life, Mr. Baldwin.
BALDWIN.
I ’ave that. I’ve ’ad thirteen, an’ two of ’em by me first wife.
Thirteen’s an onlucky number I’ve ’eard tell. But I ain’t suspicious.
ELLIS.
Su-per-stitious is what you mean, I take it?
BALDWIN.
If I says suspicious I means it.
ELLIS.
Well, please yourself, Mr. Baldwin, please yourself. My motter’s “Live
an’ let live.” Yes, as I was saying, it’s a queer game of ’ide-and-seek
they’re playing at. I saw young O’Farrel just now by the yew-trees. ’E
caught sight of ’er ladyship comin’ up the path, and dived into the
shadder like a frightened rabbit. Bit queer considering ’ow thick they
are. I just stood aside to see if anything was going to ’appen. Then ’oo
should come along but the master! They must have caught sight of each
other at the same time. She gave a sorter jump an’ stood still. ’E cut
and ’urried into the bushes. Then she turned and ’urried back the way
she’d come. What d’yer say to that?
BALDWIN.
What do I say?
ELLIS.
Bit queer, ain’t it?
BALDWIN.
Chronic! Why, a minute or two back ’er ladyship was up ’ere an’ says,
“I’m looking for Mr. Cosway.” And arfter she’s gorne, ’e comes up ’ere
an’ says, “I’m lookin’ for ’er ladyship,” ’e says.
ELLIS.
Well, I give it up!
(_LADY PATRICIA is heard singing in the distance._)
There, she’s at it again!
(_BILL enters up the central ladder unperceived by the
others. He stands in the background. They all listen to
the singing in silence until it ceases._)
She can sing, an’ no error!
BALDWIN.
Minds me of an ole cat as used to yeowl night after night in the rubub
beds.
ELLIS.
Good Lord, Mr. Baldwin, ’ow d’you make that out?
BALDWIN.
Course it ain’t the same. ’Er ladyship’s voice is a rare treat to
’ear, an’ a cat’s ain’t. But there’s somethin’ in ’em both as seems to
be callin’ for somethin’ else. ’Twas jest afore Mrs. Baldwin ’ad ’er
seventh. An’ yer’d ’ardly b’lieve me, Mr. Ellis, that cat ’ad kittens
same day as Mrs. Baldwin.
(_With a smothered laugh BILL comes forward. ELLIS hastily
picks up the tray with the cups, &c._)
BILL.
Ah, whisky-and-soda, Ellis. That’s good!
ELLIS.
Yes, sir.
(_He goes out by the centre._)
BILL.
(_Helping himself to whisky-and-soda._) Well, Baldwin, what are you up
to? Keeping an eye on the sun so as to lop off the branches?
BALDWIN.
No, sir.... I was jest watching them lanterns.
BILL.
Yes. They’re very pretty.
BALDWIN.
They do burn uncommon quick.
BILL.
Well, they’re made of paper, you know.
BALDWIN.
Yessir.... It was the candles I was alludin’ of, sir. They do burn—— (_A
lantern goes out._) Ho!
(_He fiddles about with the string, BILL watching him with
a smile. Suddenly halfway up the central ladder you hear
the voice of LADY PATRICIA sweetly humming. BILL throws a
wild glance around him._)
BILL.
Don’t give me away, Baldwin.
(_He darts into the summer-house at the back and locks the
door._)
BALDWIN.
’Iding-seek!... (_Lowering the lantern._) Whoa!...
(_LADY PATRICIA enters._)
LADY PATRICIA.
Bill?... (_Looks around._) Who were you talking to just now, Baldwin?
BALDWIN.
Mr. O’Farrel, mum.
LADY PATRICIA.
Yes; I thought so—but I don’t see him.
BALDWIN.
No, mum.
LADY PATRICIA.
Where is he?
BALDWIN.
’E’s gorne, m’lady.
LADY PATRICIA.
Gone?
BALDWIN.
Yes’m. You gave yerself away, mum, you did. D’rectly ’e ’eard your
ladyship’s voice ’e was gorne, mum.
LADY PATRICIA.
(_Amazed._) I gave myself away? Directly he heard my voice he was gone?
BALDWIN.
’Twas like as when you come up ’ere before a-lookin’ for the master. Mr.
O’Farrel, ’e was ’ere then, mum. ’E ’eard you, an’ ’e jest ran.
LADY PATRICIA.
Mr. O’Farrel heard me and he ran?
BALDWIN.
Yes’m. An’ if you’ll h’excuse my sayin’ so, mum, it ain’t gumptious to
sing when playin’ ’iding-seek.
LADY PATRICIA.
Playing hide-and-seek?...
BALDWIN.
Yes’m.
LADY PATRICIA.
Hide-and-seek! What on earth are you talking about? I really am afraid,
Baldwin, the full moon must have deprived you of your few remaining wits.
Do you seriously mean to tell me that Mr. O’Farrel ran away twice because
he heard me coming?
BALDWIN.
Yes’m.
LADY PATRICIA.
(_After a dumbfounded pause_) Where did he go to?
BALDWIN.
(_Knowingly._) Beggin’ yer pardon, mum, I really couldn’t tell yer that.
LADY PATRICIA.
You——
(_CLARE enters on the left unperceived, and slips
cautiously behind the trunk._)
BALDWIN.
I arst you, mum, would it be playin’ fair on the young gentleman?
LADY PATRICIA.
(_Edging rather nervously away from him._) I think you had better go home
now, Baldwin. I am afraid you are not quite well. Tell Mrs. Baldwin to
come and see me to-morrow.
BALDWIN.
Yes’m.
(_LADY PATRICIA goes out on the left, throwing a nervous
look back at BALDWIN, who nods his head triumphantly and
pulls up the lantern. CLARE emerges from behind the trunk
and tiptoes towards him._)
BALDWIN.
Whoa!
CLARE.
S-sh!
BALDWIN.
Lord-a-mercy!
CLARE.
Language, Baldwin!
BALDWIN.
Yer did give me a turn, miss.
CLARE.
Sorry! Hullo, drinks! (_Goes to the edge of the platform and looks
cautiously over._) The coast’s clear. I’ll have some soda-water.
BALDWIN.
’Iding-seek do give you a bit of a thirst, miss.
CLARE.
(_Astonished._) Hide-and-seek?
BALDWIN.
Yes, miss.
CLARE.
Why, have you been playing hide-and-seek?
BALDWIN.
Me, miss?
CLARE.
Didn’t you say so just now? Really, Baldwin, for a person of your age!
And now you want a drink? Well, I’ve no objection, though it looks
uncommonly as if you had helped yourself already.
(_She points to BILL’S half-filled glass._)
BALDWIN.
(_Excitedly._) Me, miss? I give you my word, miss. Why, that’s—that’s——
MICHAEL.
(_His voice is heard calling softly beneath._) Clare....
CLARE.
(_To BALDWIN, in a fierce whisper._) Hush! Don’t say where I am!
(_She runs to the summer-house and gains the door just as
MICHAEL emerges up the central ladder. She finds the door
locked. The key turns in the lock audibly, the door opens,
and BILL’S hand seizes her arm and pulls her inside._)
CLARE.
Oh!...
BILL.
Hush!
(_Draws her into the summer-house, closes and locks the
door._)
BALDWIN.
(_In unrestrained delight._) Haw! Haw! Haw! Haw!
MICHAEL.
(_Looking around him._) Wasn’t Miss Lesley speaking to you a second ago,
Baldwin?
BALDWIN.
She were, sir. Haw! Haw!
MICHAEL.
(_Regarding the amused BALDWIN with severity._) Where did she go to?
BALDWIN.
She’s gorne, sir.
MICHAEL.
I asked you _where_ she had gone to.
BALDWIN.
No, sir; I couldn’t tell yer that, sir. I reely couldn’t.
(_He guffaws again._)
MICHAEL.
Have you been drinking, Baldwin?
BALDWIN.
Me, sir? Drinking? ’Pon me honour, sir, I ain’t touched a drop o’ that
whisky. It’s mortal ’ard, sir, that a man o’ my years should be tole ’e’s
in liquor twice in one evenin’! An’ me teetotal ’cept for me pint o’
four-’arf at dinner an’ supper and a drop o’ somethin’ on Saturday night.
MICHAEL.
Do you know the day of the week, Baldwin?
BALDWIN.
(_After a pause._) Lor’, sir, if it ain’t Sat’day.... But I give you me
word, sir, I ain’t——
MICHAEL.
Very well, Baldwin. But you must admit that your conduct was peculiar.
Perhaps now you will be so good as to tell me where Miss Lesley went to.
BALDWIN.
She—she——
(_He starts laughing again._)
MICHAEL.
Do you mean to tell me she has climbed up the tree again?
BALDWIN.
Maybe she ’as, sir, an’ maybe she ’asn’t. Haw! Haw!
MICHAEL.
(_Angrily._) Fool! (_Goes to the trunk, and, standing in the shadow,
looks up into the branches._) Clare.... Clare.... I see you, you naughty
little girl.... You’ve led me a pretty dance to-night.... Clare.... If
you don’t come down I’ll climb up and fetch you....
(_LADY PATRICIA enters quickly on the left._)
LADY PATRICIA.
(_To BALDWIN, her finger on her lip._) Hush!
(_She tiptoes quickly across the stage and seizes MICHAEL
by the shoulders._)
MICHAEL.
Oh! (_He faces her and falls back._) Patricia!
LADY PATRICIA.
(_Falling back an amazed step._) Michael!
BALDWIN.
(_In an ecstasy of glee._) The wrong man! Oh, Lord! Oh, Lord!
(_He doubles up with laughter. LADY PATRICIA and MICHAEL
regard him in silent amazement and consternation._)
LADY PATRICIA.
(_To MICHAEL._) I’m afraid he’s——
(_Touches her forehead._)
MICHAEL.
Good God!...
LADY PATRICIA.
(_Gently._) Don’t you think it’s better you went now, Baldwin?
BALDWIN.
Oh, Lord! Oh, Lord!
MICHAEL.
You ought to stay in bed to-morrow.
BALDWIN.
Bed, sir?...
LADY PATRICIA.
Or sit quietly in the sweet sunshine at your cottage door.
BALDWIN.
Yes’m....
LADY PATRICIA.
Good-night, Baldwin.
BALDWIN.
Good-night, mum. Good-night, sir.
(_He walks stolidly to the ladder on the left; then,
just before descending, starts once more guffawing and
continues as he descends. LADY PATRICIA and MICHAEL look
at each other in pitying astonishment._)
LADY PATRICIA.
Poor old man! I fear he is breaking up at last!
MICHAEL.
God forgive me, dearest; I thought he had been drinking.
LADY PATRICIA.
Let us make the twilight of his long day full of peace and fragrance.
MICHAEL.
He shall never want.
(_A nightingale begins its song in the distance._)
LADY PATRICIA.
Ah, listen! Ah, listen, dear heart!
MICHAEL.
The nightingale.
LADY PATRICIA.
We have not far to go, you and I, to reach that land where music and
moonlight and feeling are one!
MICHAEL.
Music and moonlight and feeling——
LADY PATRICIA.
Are one....
MICHAEL.
Sweet bird!
(_A pause. They listen “emparadised in one another’s
arms.”_)
LADY PATRICIA.
But where have you been, dearest? For the last half-hour I have been
looking for you down shadowy paths and by moonlit waters.
MICHAEL.
And I for you.
LADY PATRICIA.
Cousin Bill went indoors as he had something he wished to say to his
mother. So I seized the opportunity to find _you_.
MICHAEL.
Miss Lesley left me to speak to her father—and I thought I would snatch a
beautiful moment with my wife.
LADY PATRICIA.
Cousin Bill said he would come back to me in a moment.
MICHAEL.
Miss Lesley too. I’m afraid they may be hunting for us.
LADY PATRICIA.
Poor children! But they will forgive us when they know we have been
together—and so happy. Tell me, dear, why were you looking so fixedly up
the tree when I came just now?
(_MICHAEL looks apprehensively towards the tree._)
MICHAEL.
I—I was looking for a nightingale.
LADY PATRICIA.