cook, was n't it?
MRS. BARTHWICK. No, the lady's maid. I was talking it over with
Lady Holyrood. The girl used to have her young man to see her.
BARTHWICK. [Uneasily.] I'm not sure they were wise----
MRS. BARTHWICK. My dear John, what are you talking about? How
could there be any alternative? Think of the effect on the other
servants!
BARTHWICK. Of course in principle--I wasn't thinking of that.
JACK. [Maliciously.] Crackers, please, Dad.
[BARTHWICK is compelled to pass the crackers.]
MRS. BARTHWICK. Lady Holyrood told me: "I had her up," she said; "I
said to her, 'You'll leave my house at once; I think your conduct
disgraceful. I can't tell, I don't know, and I don't wish to know,
what you were doing. I send you away on principle; you need not
come to me for a character.' And the girl said: 'If you don't give
me my notice, my lady, I want a month's wages. I'm perfectly
respectable. I've done nothing.'"'--Done nothing!
BARTHWICK. H'm!
MRS. BARTHWICK. Servants have too much license. They hang together
so terribly you never can tell what they're really thinking; it's as
if they were all in a conspiracy to keep you in the dark. Even with
Marlow, you feel that he never lets you know what's really in his
mind. I hate that secretiveness; it destroys all confidence. I
feel sometimes I should like to shake him.
JACK. Marlow's a most decent chap. It's simply beastly every one
knowing your affairs.
BARTHWICK. The less you say about that the better!
MRS. BARTHWICK. It goes all through the lower classes. You can not
tell when they are speaking the truth. To-day when I was shopping
after leaving the Holyroods, one of these unemployed came up and
spoke to me. I suppose I only had twenty yards or so to walk to the
carnage, but he seemed to spring up in the street.
BARTHWICK. Ah! You must be very careful whom you speak to in these
days.
MRS. BARTHWICK. I did n't answer him, of course. But I could see
at once that he wasn't telling the truth.
BARTHWICK. [Cracking a nut.] There's one very good rule--look at
their eyes.
JACK. Crackers, please, Dad.
BARTHWICK. [Passing the crackers.] If their eyes are
straight-forward I sometimes give them sixpence. It 's against my
principles, but it's most difficult to refuse. If you see that
they're desperate, and dull, and shifty-looking, as so many of them
are, it's certain to mean drink, or crime, or something
unsatisfactory.
MRS. BARTHWICK. This man had dreadful eyes. He looked as if he
could commit a murder. "I 've 'ad nothing to eat to-day," he said.
Just like that.
BARTHWICK. What was William about? He ought to have been waiting.
JACK. [Raising his wine-glass to his nose.] Is this the '63, Dad?
[BARTHWICK, holding his wine-glass to his eye, lowers it and
passes it before his nose.]
MRS. BARTHWICK. I hate people that can't speak the truth. [Father
and son exchange a look behind their port.] It 's just as easy to
speak the truth as not. I've always found it easy enough. It makes
it impossible to tell what is genuine; one feels as if one were
continually being taken in.
BARTHWICK. [Sententiously.] The lower classes are their own
enemies. If they would only trust us, they would get on so much
better.
MRS. BARTHWICK. But even then it's so often their own fault. Look
at that Mrs. Jones this morning.
BARTHWICK. I only want to do what's right in that matter. I had
occasion to see Roper this afternoon. I mentioned it to him. He's
coming in this evening. It all depends on what the detective says.
I've had my doubts. I've been thinking it over.
MRS. BARTHWICK. The woman impressed me most unfavourably. She
seemed to have no shame. That affair she was talking about--she and
the man when they were young, so immoral! And before you and Jack!
I could have put her out of the room!
BARTHWICK. Oh! I don't want to excuse them, but in looking at
these matters one must consider----
MRS. BARTHWICK. Perhaps you'll say the man's employer was wrong in
dismissing him?
BARTHWICK. Of course not. It's not there that I feel doubt. What
I ask myself is----
JACK. Port, please, Dad.
BARTHWICK. [Circulating the decanter in religious imitation of the
rising and setting of the sun.] I ask myself whether we are
sufficiently careful in making inquiries about people before we
engage them, especially as regards moral conduct.
JACK. Pass the-port, please, Mother!
MRS. BARTHWICK. [Passing it.] My dear boy, are n't you drinking
too much?
[JACK fills his glass.]
MARLOW. [Entering.] Detective Snow to see you, Sir.
BARTHWICK. [Uneasily.] Ah! say I'll be with him in a minute.
MRS. BARTHWICK. [Without turning.] Let him come in here, Marlow.
[SNOW enters in an overcoat, his bowler hat in hand.]
BARTHWICK. [Half-rising.] Oh! Good evening!
SNOW. Good evening, sir; good evening, ma'am. I 've called round to
report what I 've done, rather late, I 'm afraid--another case took
me away. [He takes the silver box out o f his pocket, causing a
sensation in the BARTHWICK family.] This is the identical article,
I believe.
BARTHWICK. Certainly, certainly.
SNOW. Havin' your crest and cypher, as you described to me, sir, I
'd no hesitation in the matter.
BARTHWICK. Excellent. Will you have a glass of [he glances at the
waning port]--er--sherry-[pours out sherry]. Jack, just give Mr.
Snow this.
[JACK rises and gives the glass to SNOW; then, lolling in his
chair, regards him indolently.]
SNOW. [Drinking off wine and putting down the glass.] After seeing
you I went round to this woman's lodgings, sir. It's a low
neighborhood, and I thought it as well to place a constable below
--and not without 'e was wanted, as things turned out.
BARTHWICK. Indeed!
SNOW. Yes, Sir, I 'ad some trouble. I asked her to account for the
presence of the article. She could give me no answer, except to
deny the theft; so I took her into custody; then her husband came
for me, so I was obliged to take him, too, for assault. He was very
violent on the way to the station--very violent--threatened you and
your son, and altogether he was a handful, I can till you.
MRS. BARTHWICK. What a ruffian he must be!
SNOW. Yes, ma'am, a rough customer.
JACK. [Sipping his mine, bemused.] Punch the beggar's head.
SNOW. Given to drink, as I understand, sir.
MRS. BARTHWICK. It's to be hoped he will get a severe punishment.
SNOW. The odd thing is, sir, that he persists in sayin' he took the
box himself.
BARTHWICK. Took the box himself! [He smiles.] What does he think
to gain by that?
SNOW. He says the young gentleman was intoxicated last night
[JACK stops the cracking of a nut, and looks at SNOW.]
[BARTHWICK, losing his smile, has put his wine-glass down;
there is a silence--SNOW, looking from face to face, remarks]
--took him into the house and gave him whisky; and under the
influence of an empty stomach the man says he took the box.
MRS. BARTHWICK. The impudent wretch!
BARTHWICK. D' you mean that he--er--intends to put this forward
to-morrow?
SNOW. That'll be his line, sir; but whether he's endeavouring to
shield his wife, or whether [he looks at JACK] there's something in
it, will be for the magistrate to say.
MRS. BARTHWICK. [Haughtily.] Something in what? I don't
understand you. As if my son would bring a man like that into the
house!
BARTHWICK. [From the fireplace, with an effort to be calm.] My son
can speak for himself, no doubt. Well, Jack, what do you say?
MRS. BARTHWICK. [Sharply.] What does he say? Why, of course, he
says the whole story's stuff!
JACK. [Embarrassed.] Well, of course, I--of course, I don't know
anything about it.
MRS. BARTHWICK. I should think not, indeed! [To Snow.] The man is
an audacious ruffian!
BARTHWICK. [Suppressing jumps.] But in view of my son's saying
there's nothing in this--this fable--will it be necessary to proceed
against the man under the circumstances?
SNOW. We shall have to charge him with the assault, sir. It would
be as well for your son to come down to the Court. There'll be a
remand, no doubt. The queer thing is there was quite a sum of money
found on him, and a crimson silk purse.
[BARTHWICK starts; JACK rises and sits dozen again.]
I suppose the lady has n't missed her purse?
BARTHWICK. [Hastily.] Oh, no! Oh! No!
JACK. No!
MRS. BARTHWICK. [Dreamily.] No! [To SNOW.] I 've been inquiring
of the servants. This man does hang about the house. I shall feel
much safer if he gets a good long sentence; I do think we ought to
be protected against such ruffians.
BARTHWICK. Yes, yes, of course, on principle but in this case we
have a number of things to think of. [To SNOW.] I suppose, as you
say, the man must be charged, eh?
SNOW. No question about that, sir.
BARTHWICK. [Staring gloomily at JACK.] This prosecution goes very
much against the grain with me. I have great sympathy with the
poor. In my position I 'm bound to recognise the distress there is
amongst them. The condition of the people leaves much to be
desired. D' you follow me? I wish I could see my way to drop it.
MRS. BARTHWICK. [Sharply.] John! it's simply not fair to other
people. It's putting property at the mercy of any one who likes to
take it.
BARTHWICK. [Trying to make signs to her aside.] I 'm not defending
him, not at all. I'm trying to look at the matter broadly.
MRS. BARTHWICK. Nonsense, John, there's a time for everything.
SNOW. [Rather sardonically.] I might point out, sir, that to
withdraw the charge of stealing would not make much difference,
because the facts must come out [he looks significantly at JACK] in
reference to the assault; and as I said that charge will have to go
forward.
BARTHWICK. [Hastily.] Yes, oh! exactly! It's entirely on the
woman's account--entirely a matter of my own private feelings.
SNOW. If I were you, sir, I should let things take their course.
It's not likely there'll be much difficulty. These things are very
quick settled.
BARTHWICK. [Doubtfully.] You think so--you think so?
JACK. [Rousing himself.] I say, what shall I have to swear to?
SNOW. That's best known to yourself, sir. [Retreating to the
door.] Better employ a solicitor, sir, in case anything should
arise. We shall have the butler to prove the loss of the article.
You'll excuse me going, I 'm rather pressed to-night. The case may
come on any time after eleven. Good evening, sir; good evening,
ma'am. I shall have to produce the box in court to-morrow, so if
you'll excuse me, sir, I may as well take it with me.
[He takes the silver box and leaves them with a little bow.]
[BARTHWICK makes a move to follow him, then dashing his hands
beneath his coat tails, speaks with desperation.]
BARTHWICK. I do wish you'd leave me to manage things myself. You
will put your nose into matters you know nothing of. A pretty mess
you've made of this!
MRS. BARTHWICK. [Coldly.] I don't in the least know what you're
talking about. If you can't stand up for your rights, I can. I 've
no patience with your principles, it's such nonsense.
BARTHWICK. Principles! Good Heavens! What have principles to do
with it for goodness sake? Don't you know that Jack was drunk last
night!
JACK. Dad!
MRS. BARTHWICK. [In horror rising.] Jack!
JACK. Look here, Mother--I had supper. Everybody does. I mean to
say--you know what I mean--it's absurd to call it being drunk. At
Oxford everybody gets a bit "on" sometimes----
MRS. BARTHWICK. Well, I think it's most dreadful! If that is
really what you do at Oxford?
JACK. [Angrily.] Well, why did you send me there? One must do as
other fellows do. It's such nonsense, I mean, to call it being
drunk. Of course I 'm awfully sorry. I 've had such a beastly
headache all day.
BARTHWICK. Tcha! If you'd only had the common decency to remember
what happened when you came in. Then we should know what truth
there was in what this fellow says--as it is, it's all the most
confounded darkness.
JACK. [Staring as though at half-formed visions.] I just get a--
and then--it 's gone----
MRS. BARTHWICK. Oh, Jack! do you mean to say you were so tipsy you
can't even remember----
JACK. Look here, Mother! Of course I remember I came--I must have
come----
BARTHWICK. [Unguardedly, and walking up and down.] Tcha!--and that
infernal purse! Good Heavens! It'll get into the papers. Who on
earth could have foreseen a thing like this? Better to have lost a
dozen cigarette-boxes, and said nothing about it. [To his wife.]
It's all your doing. I told you so from the first. I wish to
goodness Roper would come!
MRS. BARTHWICK. [Sharply.] I don't know what you're talking about,
John.
BARTHWICK. [Turning on her.] No, you--you--you don't know
anything! [Sharply.] Where the devil is Roper? If he can see a
way out of this he's a better man than I take him for. I defy any
one to see a way out of it. I can't.
JACK. Look here, don't excite Dad--I can simply say I was too
beastly tired, and don't remember anything except that I came in and
[in a dying voice] went to bed the same as usual.
BARTHWICK. Went to bed? Who knows where you went--I 've lost all
confidence. For all I know you slept on the floor.
JACK. [Indignantly.] I did n't, I slept on the----
BARTHWICK. [Sitting on the sofa.] Who cares where you slept; what
does it matter if he mentions the--the--a perfect disgrace?
MRS. BARTHWICK. What? [A silence.] I insist on knowing.
JACK. Oh! nothing.
MRS. BARTHWICK. Nothing? What do you mean by nothing, Jack?
There's your father in such a state about it!
JACK. It's only my purse.
MRS. BARTHWICK. Your purse! You know perfectly well you have n't
got one.
JACK. Well, it was somebody else's--it was all a joke--I did n't
want the beastly thing.
MRS. BARTHWICK. Do you mean that you had another person's purse,
and that this man took it too?
BARTHWICK. Tcha! Of course he took it too! A man like that Jones
will make the most of it. It'll get into the papers.
MRS. BARTHWICK. I don't understand. What on earth is all the fuss
about? [Bending over JACK, and softly.] Jack now, tell me dear!
Don't be afraid. What is it? Come!
JACK. Oh, don't Mother!
MRS. BARTHWICK. But don't what, dear?
JACK. It was pure sport. I don't know how I got the thing. Of
course I 'd had a bit of a row--I did n't know what I was doing--I
was--I Was--well, you know--I suppose I must have pulled the bag out
of her hand.
MRS. BARTHWICK. Out of her hand? Whose hand? What bag--whose bag?
JACK. Oh! I don't know--her bag--it belonged to--[in a desperate
and rising voice] a woman.
MRS. BARTHWICK. A woman? Oh! Jack! No!
JACK. [Jumping up.] You would have it. I did n't want to tell
you. It's not my fault.
[The door opens and MARLOW ushers in a man of middle age,
inclined to corpulence, in evening dress. He has a ruddy, thin
moustache, and dark, quick-moving little eyes. His eyebrows
aye Chinese.]
MARLOW. Mr. Roper, Sir. [He leaves the room.]
ROPER. [With a quick look round.] How do you do?
[But neither JACK nor MRS. BARTHWICK make a sign.]
BARTHWICK. [Hurrying.] Thank goodness you've come, Roper. You
remember what I told you this afternoon; we've just had the
detective here.
ROPER. Got the box?
BARTHWICK. Yes, yes, but look here--it was n't the charwoman at
all; her drunken loafer of a husband took the things--he says that
fellow there [he waves his hand at JACK, who with his shoulder
raised, seems trying to ward off a blow] let him into the house last
night. Can you imagine such a thing.
[Roper laughs. ]
BARTHWICK. [With excited emphasis.]. It's no laughing matter,
Roper. I told you about that business of Jack's too--don't you see
the brute took both the things--took that infernal purse. It'll get
into the papers.
ROPER. [Raising his eyebrows.] H'm! The purse! Depravity in high
life! What does your son say?
BARTHWICK. He remembers nothing. D--n! Did you ever see such a
mess? It 'll get into the papers.
MRS. BARTHWICK. [With her hand across hey eyes.] Oh! it's not
that----
[BARTHWICK and ROPER turn and look at her.]
BARTHWICK. It's the idea of that woman--she's just heard----
[ROPER nods. And MRS. BARTHWICK, setting her lips, gives a
slow look at JACK, and sits down at the table.]
What on earth's to be done, Roper? A ruffian like this Jones will
make all the capital he can out of that purse.
MRS. BARTHWICK. I don't believe that Jack took that purse.
BARTHWICK. What--when the woman came here for it this morning?
MRS. BARTHWICK. Here? She had the impudence? Why was n't I told?
[She looks round from face to face--no one answers hey, there
is a pause.]
BARTHWICK. [Suddenly.] What's to be done, Roper?
ROPER. [Quietly to JACK.] I suppose you did n't leave your
latch-key in the door?
JACK. [Sullenly.] Yes, I did.
BARTHWICK. Good heavens! What next?
MRS. BARTHWICK. I 'm certain you never let that man into the house,
Jack, it's a wild invention. I'm sure there's not a word of truth
in it, Mr. Roper.
ROPER. [Very suddenly.] Where did you sleep last night?
JACK. [Promptly.] On the sofa, there--[hesitating]--that is--I----
BARTHWICK. On the sofa? D' you mean to say you did n't go to bed?
JACK.[Sullenly.] No.
BARTHWICK. If you don't remember anything, how can you remember
that?
JACK. Because I woke up there in the morning.
MRS. BARTHWICK. Oh, Jack!
BARTHWICK. Good Gracious!
JACK. And Mrs. Jones saw me. I wish you would n't bait me so.
ROPER. Do you remember giving any one a drink?
JACK. By Jove, I do seem to remember a fellow with--a fellow with
[He looks at Roper.] I say, d' you want me----?
ROPER. [Quick as lightning.] With a dirty face?
JACK. [With illumination.] I do--I distinctly remember his----
[BARTHWICK moves abruptly; MRS. BARTHWICK looks at ROPER
angrily, and touches her son's arm.]
MRS. BARTHWICK. You don't remember, it's ridiculous! I don't
believe the man was ever here at all.
BARTHWICK. You must speak the truth, if it is the truth. But if
you do remember such a dirty business, I shall wash my hands of you
altogether.
JACK. [Glaring at them.] Well, what the devil----
MRS. BARTHWICK. Jack!
JACK. Well, Mother, I--I don't know what you do want.
MRS. BARTHWICK. We want you to speak the truth and say you never
let this low man into the house.
BARTHWICK. Of course if you think that you really gave this man
whisky in that disgraceful way, and let him see what you'd been
doing, and were in such a disgusting condition that you don't
remember a word of it----
ROPER. [Quick.] I've no memory myself--never had.
BARTHWICK. [Desperately.] I don't know what you're to say.
ROPER. [To JACK.] Say nothing at all! Don't put yourself in a
false position. The man stole the things or the woman stole the
things, you had nothing to do with it. You were asleep on the sofa.
MRS. BARTHWICK. Your leaving the latch-key in the door was quite
bad enough, there's no need to mention anything else. [Touching his
forehead softly.] My dear, how hot your head is!
JACK. But I want to know what I 'm to do. [Passionately.] I won't
be badgered like this.
[MRS. BARTHWICK recoils from him.]
ROPER. [Very quickly.] You forget all about it. You were asleep.
JACK. Must I go down to the Court to-morrow?
ROPER. [Shaking his head.] No.
BARTHWICK. [In a relieved voice.] Is that so?
ROPER. Yes.
BARTHWICK. But you'll go, Roper.
ROPER. Yes.
JACK. [With wan cheerfulness.] Thanks, awfully! So long as I
don't have to go. [Putting his hand up to his head.] I think if
you'll excuse me--I've had a most beastly day. [He looks from his
father to his mother.]
MRS. BARTHWICK. [Turning quickly.] Goodnight, my boy.
JACK. Good-night, Mother.
[He goes out. MRS. BARTHWICK heaves a sigh. There is a
silence.]
BARTHWICK. He gets off too easily. But for my money that woman
would have prosecuted him.
ROPER. You find money useful.
BARTHWICK. I've my doubts whether we ought to hide the truth----
ROPER. There'll be a remand.
BARTHWICK. What! D' you mean he'll have to appear on the remand.
ROPER. Yes.
BARTHWICK. H'm, I thought you'd be able to----Look here, Roper,
you must keep that purse out of the papers.
[ROPER fixes his little eyes on him and nods.]
MRS. BARTHWICK. Mr. Roper, don't you think the magistrate ought to
be told what sort of people these Jones's are; I mean about their
immorality before they were married. I don't know if John told you.
ROPER. Afraid it's not material.
MRS. BARTHWICK. Not material?
ROPER. Purely private life! May have happened to the magistrate.
BARTHWICK. [With a movement as if to shift a burden.] Then you'll
take the thing into your hands?
ROPER. If the gods are kind. [He holds his hand out.]
BARTHWICK. [Shaking it dubiously.] Kind eh? What? You going?
ROPER. Yes. I've another case, something like yours--most
unexpected.
[He bows to MRS. BARTHWICK, and goes out, followed by
BARTHWICK, talking to the last. MRS. BARTHWICK at the table
bursts into smothered sobs. BARTHWICK returns.]
BARTHWICK. [To himself.] There'll be a scandal!
MRS. BARTHWICK. [Disguising her grief at once.] I simply can't
imagine what Roper means by making a joke of a thing like that!
BARTHWICK. [Staring strangely.] You! You can't imagine anything!
You've no more imagination than a fly!
MRS. BARTHWICK. [Angrily.] You dare to tell me that I have no
imagination.
BARTHWICK. [Flustered.] I--I 'm upset. From beginning to end, the
whole thing has been utterly against my principles.
MRS. BARTHWICK. Rubbish! You have n't any! Your principles are
nothing in the world but sheer fright!
BARTHWICK. [Walking to the window.] I've never been frightened in
my life. You heard what Roper said. It's enough to upset one when
a thing like this happens. Everything one says and does seems to
turn in one's mouth--it's--it's uncanny. It's not the sort of thing
I've been accustomed to. [As though stifling, he throws the window
open. The faint sobbing of a child comes in.] What's that?
[They listen.]
MRS. BARTHWICK. [Sharply.] I can't stand that crying. I must send
Marlow to stop it. My nerves are all on edge. [She rings the
bell.]
BARTHWICK. I'll shut the window; you'll hear nothing. [He shuts
the window. There is silence.]
MRS. BARTHWICK. [Sharply.] That's no good! It's on my nerves.
Nothing upsets me like a child's crying.
[MARLOW comes in.]
What's that noise of crying, Marlow? It sounds like a child.
BARTHWICK. It is a child. I can see it against the railings.
MARLOW. [Opening the window, and looking out quietly.] It's Mrs.
Jones's little boy, ma'am; he came here after his mother.
MRS. BARTHWICK. [Moving quickly to the window.] Poor little chap!
John, we ought n't to go on with this!
BARTHWICK. [Sitting heavily in a chair.] Ah! but it's out of our
hands!
[MRS. BARTHWICK turns her back to the window. There is an
expression of distress on hey face. She stands motionless,
compressing her lips. The crying begins again. BARTHWICK
coveys his ears with his hands, and MARLOW shuts the window.
The crying ceases.]
The curtain falls.
ACT III
Eight days have passed, and the scene is a London Police Court
at one o'clock. A canopied seat of Justice is surmounted by
the lion and unicorn. Before the fire a worn-looking
MAGISTRATE is warming his coat-tails, and staring at two little
girls in faded blue and orange rags, who are placed before the
dock. Close to the witness-box is a RELIEVING OFFICER in an
overcoat, and a short brown beard. Beside the little girls
stands a bald POLICE CONSTABLE. On the front bench are sitting
BARTHWICK and ROPER, and behind them JACK. In the railed
enclosure are seedy-looking men and women. Some prosperous
constables sit or stand about.
MAGISTRATE. [In his paternal and ferocious voice, hissing his s's.]
Now let us dispose of these young ladies.
USHER. Theresa Livens, Maud Livens.
[The bald CONSTABLE indicates the little girls, who remain
silent, disillusioned, inattentive.]
Relieving Officer!
[The RELIEVING OFFICER Steps into the witness-box.]
USHER. The evidence you give to the Court shall be the truth, the
whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God! Kiss the
book!
[The book is kissed.]
RELIEVING OFFICER. [In a monotone, pausing slightly at each
sentence end, that his evidence may be inscribed.] About ten
o'clock this morning, your Worship, I found these two little girls
in Blue Street, Fulham, crying outside a public-house. Asked where
their home was, they said they had no home. Mother had gone away.
Asked about their father. Their father had no work. Asked where
they slept last night. At their aunt's. I 've made inquiries, your
Worship. The wife has broken up the home and gone on the streets.
The husband is out of work and living in common lodging-houses. The
husband's sister has eight children of her own, and says she can't
afford to keep these little girls any longer.
MAGISTRATE. [Returning to his seat beneath the canopy of justice.]
Now, let me see. You say the mother is on the streets; what
evidence have you of that?
RELIEVING OFFICER. I have the husband here, your Worship.
MAGISTRATE. Very well; then let us see him.
[There are cries of "LIVENS." The MAGISTRATE leans forward,
and stares with hard compassion at the little girls. LIVENS
comes in. He is quiet, with grizzled hair, and a muffler for a
collar. He stands beside the witness-box.]
And you, are their father? Now, why don't you keep your little
girls at home. How is it you leave them to wander about the streets
like this?
LIVENS. I've got no home, your Worship. I'm living from 'and to
mouth. I 've got no work; and nothin' to keep them on.
MAGISTRATE. How is that?
LIVENS. [Ashamedly.] My wife, she broke my 'ome up, and pawned the
things.
MAGISTRATE. But what made you let her?
LEVINS. Your Worship, I'd no chance to stop 'er, she did it when I
was out lookin' for work.
MAGISTRATE. Did you ill-treat her?
LIVENS. [Emphatically.] I never raised my 'and to her in my life,
your Worship.
MAGISTRATE. Then what was it--did she drink?
LIVENS. Yes, your Worship.
MAGISTRATE. Was she loose in her behaviour?
LIVENS. [In a low voice.] Yes, your Worship.
MAGISTRATE. And where is she now?
LIVENS. I don't know your Worship. She went off with a man, and
after that I----
MAGISTRATE. Yes, yes. Who knows anything of her? [To the bald
CONSTABLE.] Is she known here?
RELIEVING OFFICER. Not in this district, your Worship; but I have
ascertained that she is well known----
MAGISTRATE. Yes--yes; we'll stop at that. Now [To the Father] you
say that she has broken up your home, and left these little girls.
What provision can you make for them? You look a strong man.
LIVENS. So I am, your Worship. I'm willin' enough to work, but for
the life of me I can't get anything to do.
MAGISTRATE. But have you tried?
LIVENS. I've tried everything, your Worship--I 've tried my
'ardest.
MAGISTRATE. Well, well---- [There is a silence.]
RELIEVING OFFICER. If your Worship thinks it's a case, my people are
willing to take them.
MAGISTRATE. Yes, yes, I know; but I've no evidence that this man is
not the proper guardian for his children.
[He rises oval goes back to the fire.]
RELIEVING OFFICER. The mother, your Worship, is able to get access
to them.
MAGISTRATE. Yes, yes; the mother, of course, is an improper person
to have anything to do with them. [To the Father.] Well, now what
do you say?
LIVENS. Your Worship, I can only say that if I could get work I
should be only too willing to provide for them. But what can I do,
your Worship? Here I am obliged to live from 'and to mouth in these
'ere common lodging-houses. I 'm a strong man--I'm willing to work
--I'm half as alive again as some of 'em--but you see, your Worship,
my 'airs' turned a bit, owing to the fever--[Touches his hair]--and
that's against me; and I don't seem to get a chance anyhow.
MAGISTRATE. Yes-yes. [Slowly.] Well, I think it 's a case.
[Staring his hardest at the little girls.] Now, are you willing
that these little girls should be sent to a home.
LIVENS. Yes, your Worship, I should be very willing.
MAGISTRATE. Well, I'll remand them for a week. Bring them again
to-day week; if I see no reason against it then, I 'll make an
order.
RELIEVING OFFICER. To-day week, your Worship.
[The bald CONSTABLE takes the little girls out by the
shoulders. The father follows them. The MAGISTRATE, returning
to his seat, bends over and talks to his CLERK inaudibly.]
BARTHWICK. [Speaking behind his hand.] A painful case, Roper; very
distressing state of things.
ROPER. Hundreds like this in the Police Courts.
BARTHWICK. Most distressing! The more I see of it, the more
important this question of the condition of the people seems to
become. I shall certainly make a point of taking up the cudgels in
the House. I shall move----
[The MAGISTRATE ceases talking to his CLERK.]
CLERK. Remands!
[BARTHWICK stops abruptly. There is a stir and MRS. JONES
comes in by the public door; JONES, ushered by policemen, comes
from the prisoner's door. They file into the dock.]
CLERK. James Jones, Jane Jones.
USHER. Jane Jones!
BARTHWICK. [In a whisper.] The purse--the purse must be kept out
of it, Roper. Whatever happens you must keep that out of the
papers.
[ROPER nods.]
BALD CONSTABLE. Hush!
[MRS. JONES, dressed in hey thin, black, wispy dress, and black
straw hat, stands motionless with hands crossed on the front
rail of the dock. JONES leans against the back rail of the
dock, and keeps half turning, glancing defiantly about him. He
is haggard and unshaven.]
CLERK. [Consulting with his papers.] This is the case remanded
from last Wednesday, Sir. Theft of a silver cigarette-box and
assault on the police; the two charges were taken together. Jane
Jones! James Jones!
MAGISTRATE. [Staring.] Yes, yes; I remember.
CLERK. Jane Jones.
MRS. JONES. Yes, Sir.
CLERK. Do you admit stealing a silver cigarette-box valued at five
pounds, ten shillings, from the house of John BARTHWICK, M.P.,
between the hours of 11 p.m. on Easter Monday and 8.45 a.m. on
Easter Tuesday last? Yes, or no?
MRS. JONES. [In a logy voice.] No, Sir, I do not, sir.
CLERK. James Jones? Do you admit stealing a silver cigarette-box
valued at five pounds, ten shillings, from the house of John
BARTHWICK, M.P., between the hours of 11 p.m. on Easter Monday and
8.45 A.M. on Easter Tuesday last. And further making an assault on
the police when in the execution of their duty at 3 p.m. on Easter
Tuesday? Yes or no?
JONES. [Sullenly.] Yes, but I've got a lot to say about it.
MAGISTRATE. [To the CLERK.] Yes--yes. But how comes it that these
two people are charged with the same offence? Are they husband and
wife?
CLERK. Yes, Sir. You remember you ordered a remand for further
evidence as to the story of the male prisoner.
MAGISTRATE. Have they been in custody since?
CLERK. You released the woman on her own recognisances, sir.
MAGISTRATE. Yes, yes, this is the case of the silver box; I
remember now. Well?
CLERK. Thomas Marlow.
[The cry of "THOMAS MARLOW" is repeated MARLOW comes in, and
steps into the witness-box.]
USHER. The evidence you give to the court shall be the truth, the
whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God. Kiss the
book.
[The book is kissed. The silver box is handed up, and placed
on the rail.]
CLERK. [Reading from his papers.] Your name is Thomas Marlow? Are
you, butler to John BARTHWICK, M.P., of 6, Rockingham Gate?
MARLOW. Yes, Sir.
CLERK. Is that the box?
MARLOW. Yes Sir.
CLERK. And did you miss the same at 8.45 on the following morning,
on going to remove the tray?
MARLOW. Yes, Sir.
CLERK. Is the female prisoner known to you?
[MARLOW nods.]
Is she the charwoman employed at 6, Rockingham Gate?
[Again MARLOW nods.]
Did you at the time of your missing the box find her in the room
alone?
MARLOW. Yes, Sir.
CLERK. Did you afterwards communicate the loss to your employer,
and did he send you to the police station?
MARLOW. Yes, Sir.
CLERK. [To MRS. JONES.] Have you anything to ask him?
MRS. JONES. No, sir, nothing, thank you, sir.
CLERK. [To JONES.] James Jones, have you anything to ask this
witness?
JONES. I don't know 'im.
MAGISTRATE. Are you sure you put the box in the place you say at
the time you say?
MARLOW. Yes, your Worship.
MAGISTRATE. Very well; then now let us have the officer.
[MARLOW leaves the box, and Snow goes into it.]
USHER. The evidence you give to the court shall be the truth, the
whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God. [The book
is kissed.]
CLERK. [Reading from his papers.] Your name is Robert Allow? You
are a detective in the X. B. division of the Metropolitan police
force? According to instructions received did you on Easter Tuesday
last proceed to the prisoner's lodgings at 34, Merthyr Street, St.
Soames's? And did you on entering see the box produced, lying on
the table?
SNOW. Yes, Sir.
CLERK. Is that the box?
Snow. [Fingering the box.] Yes, Sir.
CLERK. And did you thereupon take possession of it, and charge the
female prisoner with theft of the box from 6, Rockingham Gate? And
did she deny the same?
SNOW. Yes, Sir.
CLERK. Did you take her into custody?
Snow. Yes, Sir.
MAGISTRATE. What was her behaviour?
SNOW. Perfectly quiet, your Worship. She persisted in the denial.
That's all.
MAGISTRATE. DO you know her?
SNOW. No, your Worship.
MAGISTRATE. Is she known here?
BALD CONSTABLE. No, your Worship, they're neither of them known,
we 've nothing against them at all.
CLERK. [To MRS. JONES.] Have you anything to ask the officer?
MRS. JONES. No, sir, thank you, I 've nothing to ask him.
MAGISTRATE. Very well then--go on.
CLERK. [Reading from his papers.] And while you were taking the
female prisoner did the male prisoner interpose, and endeavour to
hinder you in the execution of your duty, and did he strike you a
blow?
SNOW. Yes, Sir.
CLERK. And did he say, "You, let her go, I took the box myself"?
SNOW. He did.
CLERK. And did you blow your whistle and obtain the assistance of
another constable, and take him into custody?
SNOW. I did.
CLERK. Was he violent on the way to the station, and did he use bad
language, and did he several times repeat that he had taken the box
himself?
[Snow nods.]
Did you thereupon ask him in what manner he had stolen the box? And
did you understand him to say he had entered the house at the
invitation of young Mr. BARTHWICK
[BARTHWICK, turning in his seat, frowns at ROPER.]
after midnight on Easter Monday, and partaken of whisky, and that
under the influence of the whisky he had taken the box?
SNOW. I did, sir.
CLERK. And was his demeanour throughout very violent?
SNOW. It was very violent.
JONES. [Breaking in.] Violent---of course it was! You put your
'ands on my wife when I kept tellin' you I took the thing myself.
MAGISTRATE. [Hissing, with protruded neck.] Now--you will have
your chance of saying what you want to say presently. Have you
anything to ask the officer?
JONES. [Sullenly.] No.
MAGISTRATE. Very well then. Now let us hear what the female
prisoner has to say first.
MRS. JONES. Well, your Worship, of course I can only say what I 've
said all along, that I did n't take the box.
MAGISTRATE. Yes, but did you know that it was taken?
MRS. JONES. No, your Worship. And, of course, to what my husband
says, your Worship, I can't speak of my own knowledge. Of course, I
know that he came home very late on the Monday night. It was past
one o'clock when he came in, and he was not himself at all.
MAGISTRATE. Had he been drinking?
MRS. JONES. Yes, your Worship.
MAGISTRATE. And was he drunk?
MRS. JONES. Yes, your Worship, he was almost quite drunk.
MAGISTRATE. And did he say anything to you?
MRS. JONES. No, your Worship, only to call me names. And of course
in the morning when I got up and went to work he was asleep. And I
don't know anything more about it until I came home again. Except
that Mr. BARTHWICK--that 's my employer, your Worship--told me the
box was missing.
MAGISTRATE. Yes, yes.
MRS. JONES. But of course when I was shaking out my husband's coat
the cigarette-box fell out and all the cigarettes were scattered on
the bed.
MAGISTRATE. You say all the cigarettes were scattered on the bed?
[To SNOW.] Did you see the cigarettes scattered on the bed?
SNOW. No, your Worship, I did not.
MAGISTRATE. You see he says he did n't see them.
JONES. Well, they were there for all that.
SNOW. I can't say, your Worship, that I had the opportunity of
going round the room; I had all my work cut out with the male
prisoner.
MAGISTRATE. [To MRS. JONES.] Well, what more have you to say?
MRS. JONES. Of course when I saw the box, your Worship, I was
dreadfully upset, and I could n't think why he had done such a
thing; when the officer came we were having words about it, because
it is ruin to me, your Worship, in my profession, and I have three
little children dependent on me.
MAGISTRATE. [Protruding his neck]. Yes--yes--but what did he say
to you?
MRS. JONES. I asked him whatever came over him to do such a thing
--and he said it was the drink. He said he had had too much to drink,
and something came over him. And of course, your Worship, he had
had very little to eat all day, and the drink does go to the head
when you have not had enough to eat. Your Worship may not know, but
it is the truth. And I would like to say that all through his
married life, I have never known him to do such a thing before,
though we have passed through great hardships and [speaking with
soft emphasis] I am quite sure he would not have done it if he had
been himself at the time.
MAGISTRATE. Yes, yes. But don't you know that that is no excuse?
MRS. JONES. Yes, your Worship. I know that it is no excuse.
[The MAGISTRATE leans over and parleys with his CLERK.]
JACK. [Leaning over from his seat behind.] I say, Dad----
BARTHWICK. Tsst! [Sheltering his mouth he speaks to ROPER.]
Roper, you had better get up now and say that considering the
circumstances and the poverty of the prisoners, we have no wish to
proceed any further, and if the magistrate would deal with the case
as one of disorder only on the part of----
BALD CONSTABLE. HSSShh!
[ROPER shakes his head.]
MAGISTRATE. Now, supposing what you say and what your husband says
is true, what I have to consider is--how did he obtain access to
this house, and were you in any way a party to his obtaining access?
You are the charwoman employed at the house?
MRS. JONES. Yes, your Worship, and of course if I had let him into
the house it would have been very wrong of me; and I have never done
such a thing in any of the houses where I have been employed.
MAGISTRATE. Well--so you say. Now let us hear what story the male
prisoner makes of it.
JONES. [Who leans with his arms on the dock behind, speaks in a
slow, sullen voice.] Wot I say is wot my wife says. I 've never
been 'ad up in a police court before, an' I can prove I took it when
in liquor. I told her, and she can tell you the same, that I was
goin' to throw the thing into the water sooner then 'ave it on my
mind.
MAGISTRATE. But how did you get into the HOUSE?
JONES. I was passin'. I was goin' 'ome from the "Goat and Bells."
MAGISTRATE. The "Goat and Bells,"--what is that? A public-house?
JONES. Yes, at the corner. It was Bank 'oliday, an' I'd 'ad a drop
to drink. I see this young Mr. BARTHWICK tryin' to find the keyhole
on the wrong side of the door.
MAGISTRATE. Well?
JONES. [Slowly and with many pauses.] Well---I 'elped 'im to find
it--drunk as a lord 'e was. He goes on, an' comes back again, and
says, I 've got nothin' for you, 'e says, but come in an' 'ave a
drink. So I went in just as you might 'ave done yourself. We 'ad a
drink o' whisky just as you might have 'ad, 'nd young Mr. BARTHWICK
says to me, "Take a drink 'nd a smoke. Take anything you like, 'e
says." And then he went to sleep on the sofa. I 'ad some more
whisky--an' I 'ad a smoke--and I 'ad some more whisky--an' I carn't
tell yer what 'appened after that.
MAGISTRATE. Do you mean to say that you were so drunk that you can
remember nothing?
JACK. [Softly to his father.] I say, that's exactly what----
BARTHWICK. TSSh!
JONES. That's what I do mean.
MAGISTRATE. And yet you say you stole the box?
JONES. I never stole the box. I took it.
MAGISTRATE. [Hissing with protruded neck.] You did not steal it--
you took it. Did it belong to you--what is that but stealing?
JONES. I took it.
MAGISTRATE. You took it--you took it away from their house and you
took it to your house----
JONES. [Sullenly breaking in.] I ain't got a house.
MAGISTRATE. Very well, let us hear what this young man Mr.--Mr.
BARTHWICK has to say to your story.
[SNOW leaves the witness-box. The BALD CONSTABLE beckons JACK,
who, clutching his hat, goes into the witness-box. ROPER moves
to the table set apart for his profession.]
SWEARING CLERK. The evidence you give to the court shall be the
truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God.
Kiss the book.
[The book is kissed.]
ROPER. [Examining.] What is your name?
JACK. [In a low voice.] John BARTHWICK, Junior.
[The CLERK writes it down.]
ROPER. Where do you live?
JACK. At 6, Rockingham Gate.
[All his answers are recorded by the Clerk.]
ROPER. You are the son of the owner?
JACK. [In a very low voice.] Yes.
ROPER. Speak up, please. Do you know the prisoners?
JACK. [Looking at the JONESES, in a low voice.] I 've seen Mrs.
Jones. I [in a loud voice] don't know the man.
JONES. Well, I know you!
BALD CONSTABLE. HSSh!
ROPER. Now, did you come in late on the night of Easter Monday?
JACK. Yes.
ROPER. And did you by mistake leave your latch key in the door?
JACK. Yes.
MAGISTRATE. Oh! You left your latch-key in the door?
ROPER. And is that all you can remember about your coming in?
JACK. [In a loud voice.] Yes, it is.
MAGISTRATE. Now, you have heard the male prisoner's story, what do
you say to that?
JACK. [Turning to the MAGISTRATE, speaks suddenly in a confident,
straight-forward voice.] The fact of the matter is, sir, that I 'd
been out to the theatre that night, and had supper afterwards, and I
came in late.
MAGISTRATE. Do you remember this man being outside when you came
in?
JACK. No, Sir. [He hesitates.] I don't think I do.
MAGISTRATE. [Somewhat puzzled.] Well, did he help you to open the
door, as he says? Did any one help you to open the door?
JACK. No, sir--I don't think so, sir--I don't know.
MAGISTRATE. You don't know? But you must know. It is n't a usual
thing for you to have the door opened for you, is it?
JACK. [With a shamefaced smile.] No.
MAGISTRATE. Very well, then----
JACK. [Desperately.] The fact of the matter is, sir, I'm afraid
I'd had too much champagne that night.
MAGISTRATE. [Smiling.] Oh! you'd had too much champagne?
JONES. May I ask the gentleman a question?
MAGISTRATE. Yes--yes--you may ask him what questions you like.
JONES. Don't you remember you said you was a Liberal, same as your
father, and you asked me wot I was?
JACK. [With his hand against his brow.] I seem to remember----
JONES. And I said to you, "I'm a bloomin' Conservative," I said;
an' you said to me, "You look more like one of these 'ere
Socialists. Take wotever you like," you said.
JACK. [With sudden resolution.] No, I don't. I don't remember
anything of the sort.
JONES. Well, I do, an' my word's as good as yours. I 've never
been had up in a police court before. Look 'ere, don't you remember
you had a sky-blue bag in your 'and [BARTHWICK jumps.]
ROPER. I submit to your worship that these questions are hardly to
the point, the prisoner having admitted that he himself does not
remember anything. [There is a smile on the face of Justice.] It
is a case of the blind leading the blind.
JONES. [Violently.] I've done no more than wot he 'as. I'm a poor
man; I've got no money an' no friends--he 's a toff--he can do wot I
can't.
MAGISTRATE: Now, now? All this won't help you--you must be quiet.
You say you took this box? Now, what made you take it? Were you
pressed for money?
JONES. I'm always pressed for money.
MAGISTRATE. Was that the reason you took it?
JONES. No.
MAGISTRATE. [To SNOW.] Was anything found on him?
SNOW. Yes, your worship. There was six pounds twelve shillin's
found on him, and this purse.
[The red silk purse is handed to the MAGISTRATE. BARTHWICK
rises his seat, but hastily sits down again.]
MAGISTRATE. [Staring at the purse.] Yes, yes--let me see [There is
a silence.] No, no, I 've nothing before me as to the purse. How
did you come by all that money?
JONES. [After a long pause, suddenly.] I declines to say.
MAGISTRATE. But if you had all that money, what made you take this
box?
JONES. I took it out of spite.
MAGISTRATE. [Hissing, with protruded neck.] You took it out of
spite? Well now, that's something! But do you imagine you can go
about the town taking things out of spite?
JONES. If you had my life, if you'd been out of work----
MAGISTRATE. Yes, yes; I know--because you're out of work you think
it's an excuse for everything.
JONES. [Pointing at JACK.] You ask 'im wot made 'im take the----
ROPER. [Quietly.] Does your Worship require this witness in the
box any longer?
MAGISTRATE. [Ironically.] I think not; he is hardly profitable.
[JACK leaves the witness-box, and hanging his head, resumes his
seat.]
JONES. You ask 'im wot made 'im take the lady's----
[But the BALD CONSTABLE catches him by the sleeve.]
BALD CONSTABLE. SSSh!
MAGISTRATE. [Emphatically.] Now listen to me.
I 've nothing to do with what he may or may not have taken. Why did
you resist the police in the execution of their duty?
JONES. It war n't their duty to take my wife, a respectable woman,
that 'ad n't done nothing.
MAGISTRATE. But I say it was. What made you strike the officer a
blow?
JONES. Any man would a struck 'im a blow. I'd strike 'im again, I
would.
MAGISTRATE. You are not making your case any better by violence.
How do you suppose we could get on if everybody behaved like you?
JONES. [Leaning forward, earnestly.] Well, wot, about 'er; who's
to make up to 'er for this? Who's to give 'er back 'er good name?
MRS. JONES. Your Worship, it's the children that's preying on his
mind, because of course I 've lost my work. And I've had to find
another room owing to the scandal.
MAGISTRATE. Yes, yes, I know--but if he had n't acted like this
nobody would have suffered.
JONES. [Glaring round at JACK.] I 've done no worse than wot 'e
'as. Wot I want to know is wot 's goin' to be done to 'im.
[The BALD CONSTABLE again says "HSSh"]
ROPER. Mr. BARTHWICK wishes it known, your Worship, that
considering the poverty of the prisoners, he does not press the
charge as to the box. Perhaps your Worship would deal with the case
as one of disorder.
JONES. I don't want it smothered up, I want it all dealt with fair
--I want my rights----
MAGISTRATE. [Rapping his desk.] Now you have said all you have to
say, and you will be quiet.
[There is a silence; the MAGISTRATE bends over and parleys with
his CLERK.]
Yes, I think I may discharge the woman. [In a kindly voice he
addresses MRS. JONES, who stands unmoving with her hands crossed on
the rail.] It is very unfortunate for you that this man has behaved
as he has. It is not the consequences to him but the consequences
to you. You have been brought here twice, you have lost your work--
[He glares at JONES]--and this is what always happens. Now you may
go away, and I am very sorry it was necessary to bring you here at
all.
MRS. JONES. [Softly.] Thank you very much, your Worship.
[She leaves the dock, and looking back at JONES, twists her
fingers and is still.]
MAGISTRATE. Yes, yes, but I can't pass it over. Go away, there's a
good woman.
[MRS. JONES stands back. The MAGISTRATE leans his head on his
hand; then raising it he speaks to JONES.]
Now, listen to me. Do you wish the case to be settled here, or do
you wish it to go before a jury?
JONES. [Muttering.] I don't want no jury.
MAGISTRATE. Very well then, I will deal with it here. [After a
pause.] You have pleaded guilty to stealing this box----
JONES. Not to stealin'----
BALD CONSTABLE. HSSShh!
MAGISTRATE. And to assaulting the police----
JONES. Any man as was a man----
MAGISTRATE. Your conduct here has been most improper. You give the
excuse that you were drunk when you stole the box. I tell you that
is no excuse. If you choose to get drunk and break the law
afterwards you must take the consequences. And let me tell you that
men like you, who get drunk and give way to your spite or whatever
it is that's in you, are--are--a nuisance to the community.
JACK. [Leaning from his seat.] Dad! that's what you said to me!
BARTHWICK. TSSt!
[There is a silence, while the MAGISTRATE consults his CLERK;
JONES leans forward waiting.]
MAGISTRATE. This is your first offence, and I am going to give you
a light sentence. [Speaking sharply, but without expression.] One
month with hard labour.
[He bends, and parleys with his CLERK. The BALD CONSTABLE and
another help JONES from the dock.]
JONES. [Stopping and twisting round.] Call this justice? What
about 'im? 'E got drunk! 'E took the purse--'e took the purse but
[in a muffled shout] it's 'is money got 'im off--JUSTICE!
[The prisoner's door is shut on JONES, and from the
seedy-looking men and women comes a hoarse and whispering groan.]
MAGISTRATE. We will now adjourn for lunch! [He rises from his
seat.]
[The Court is in a stir. ROPER gets up and speaks to the
reporter. JACK, throwing up his head, walks with a swagger to
the corridor; BARTHWICK follows.]
MRS. JONES. [Turning to him zenith a humble gesture.] Oh! sir!
[BARTHWICK hesitates, then yielding to his nerves, he makes a
shame-faced gesture of refusal, and hurries out of court. MRS.
JONES stands looking after him.]
The curtain falls.
JOY
A PLAY ON THE LETTER "I"
IN THREE ACTS
PERSONS OF THE PLAY
COLONEL HOPE, R.A., retired
MRS. HOPE, his wife
MISS BEECH, their old governess
LETTY, their daughter
ERNEST BLUNT, her husband
MRS. GWYN, their niece
JOY, her daughter
DICK MERTON, their young friend
HON. MAURICE LEVER, their guest
ROSE, their parlour-maid
TIME: The present. The action passes throughout midsummer day on the
lawn of Colonel Hope's house, near the Thames above Oxford.
ACT I
The time is morning, and the scene a level lawn, beyond which
the river is running amongst fields. A huge old beech tree
overshadows everything, in the darkness of whose hollow many
things are hidden. A rustic seat encircles it. A low wall
clothed in creepers, with two openings, divides this lawn from
the flowery approaches to the house. Close to the wall there is
a swing. The sky is clear and sunny. COLONEL HOPE is seated in
a garden-chair, reading a newspaper through pince-nez. He is
fifty-five and bald, with drooping grey moustaches and a
weather-darkened face. He wears a flannel suit and a hat from
Panama; a tennis racquet leans against his chair. MRS. HOPE
comes quickly through the opening of the wall, with roses in her
hands. She is going grey; she wears tan gauntlets, and no hat.
Her manner is decided, her voice emphatic, as though aware that
there is no nonsense in its owner's composition. Screened from
sight, MISS BEECH is seated behind the hollow tree; and JOY is
perched on a lower branch hidden by foliage.
MRS. HOPE. I told Molly in my letter that she'd have to walk up,
Tom.
COLONEL. Walk up in this heat? My dear, why didn't you order
Benson's fly?
MRS. HOPE. Expense for nothing! Bob can bring up her things in the
barrow. I've told Joy I won't have her going down to meet the train.
She's so excited about her mother's coming there's no doing anything
with her.
COLONEL. No wonder, after two months.
MRS. HOPE. Well, she's going home to-morrow; she must just keep
herself fresh for the dancing tonight. I'm not going to get people
in to dance, and have Joy worn out before they begin.
COLONEL. [Dropping his paper.] I don't like Molly's walking up.
MRS. HOPE. A great strong woman like Molly Gwyn! It isn't half a
mile.
COLONEL. I don't like it, Nell; it's not hospitable.
MRS. HOPE. Rubbish! If you want to throw away money, you must just
find some better investment than those wretched 3 per cents. of
yours. The greenflies are in my roses already! Did you ever see
anything so disgusting? [They bend over the roses they have grown,
and lose all sense of everything.] Where's the syringe? I saw you
mooning about with it last night, Tom.
COLONEL. [Uneasily.] Mooning!
[He retires behind his paper. MRS. HOPE enters the hollow of
the tree.]
There's an account of that West Australian swindle. Set of ruffians!
Listen to this, Nell! "It is understood that amongst the
share-holders are large numbers of women, clergymen, and Army officers."
How people can be such fools!
[Becoming aware that his absorption is unobserved, he drops his
glasses, and reverses his chair towards the tree.]
MRS. HOPE. [Reappearing with a garden syringe.] I simply won't have
Dick keep his fishing things in the tree; there's a whole potful of
disgusting worms. I can't touch them. You must go and take 'em out,
Tom.
[In his turn the COLONEL enters the hollow of the tree.]
MRS. HOPE. [Personally.] What on earth's the pleasure of it? I
can't see! He never catches anything worth eating.
[The COLONEL reappears with a paint pot full of worms; he holds
them out abstractedly.]
MRS. HOPE. [Jumping.] Don't put them near me!
MISS BEECH. [From behind the tree.] Don't hurt the poor creatures.
COLONEL. [Turning.] Hallo, Peachey? What are you doing round
there?
[He puts the worms down on the seat.]
MRS. HOPE. Tom, take the worms off that seat at once!
COLONEL. [Somewhat flurried.] Good gad! I don't know what to do
with the beastly worms!
MRS. HOPE. It's not my business to look after Dick's worms. Don't
put them on the ground. I won't have them anywhere where they can
crawl about. [She flicks some greenflies off her roses.]
COLONEL. [Looking into the pot as though the worms could tell him
where to put them.] Dash!
MISS BEECH. Give them to me.
MRS. HOPE. [Relieved.] Yes, give them to Peachey.
[There comes from round the tree Miss BEECH, old-fashioned,
barrel-shaped, balloony in the skirts. She takes the paint pot,
and sits beside it on the rustic seat.]
MISS BEECH. Poor creatures!
MRS. HOPE. Well, it's beyond me how you can make pets of worms-
wriggling, crawling, horrible things!
[ROSE, who is young and comely, in a pale print frock, comes
from the house and places letters before her on a silver
salver.]
[Taking the letters.]
What about Miss joy's frock, Rose?
ROSE. Please, 'm, I can't get on with the back without Miss Joy.
MRS. HOPE. Well, then you must just find her. I don't know where
she is.
ROSE. [In a slow, sidelong manner.] If you please, Mum, I think
Miss Joy's up in the----
[She stops, seeing Miss BEECH signing to her with both hands.]
MRS. HOPE. [Sharply.] What is it, Peachey?
MISS BEECH. [Selecting a finger.] Pricked meself!
MRS. HOPE. Let's look!
[She bends to look, but Miss BEECH places the finger in her
mouth.]
ROSE. [Glancing askance at the COLONEL.] If you please, Mum, it's
below the waist; I think I can manage with the dummy.
MRS. HOPE. Well, you can try. [Opening her letter as ROSE retires.]
Here's Molly about her train.
MISS BEECH. Is there a letter for me?
MRS. HOPE. No, Peachey.
MISS BEECH. There never is.
COLONEL. What's that? You got four by the first post.
MISS BEECH. Exceptions!
COLONEL. [Looking over his glasses.] Why! You know, you get 'em
every day!
MRS. HOPE. Molly says she'll be down by the eleven thirty. [In an
injured voice.] She'll be here in half an hour! [Reading with
disapproval from the letter.] "MAURICE LEVER is coming down by the
same train to see Mr. Henty about the Tocopala Gold Mine. Could you
give him a bed for the night?"
[Silence, slight but ominous.]
COLONEL. [Calling into his aid his sacred hospitality.] Of course
we must give him a bed!
MRS. HOPE. Just like a man! What room I should like to know!
COLONEL. Pink.
MRS. HOPE. As if Molly wouldn't have the pink!
COLONEL. [Ruefully.] I thought she'd have the blue!
MRS. HOPE. You know perfectly well it's full of earwigs, Tom. I
killed ten there yesterday morning.
MISS BEECH. Poor creatures!
MRS. HOPE. I don't know that I approve of this Mr. Lever's dancing
attendance. Molly's only thirty-six.
COLONEL. [In a high voice.] You can't refuse him a bed; I never
heard of such a thing.
MRS. HOPE. [Reading from the letter.] "This gold mine seems to be a
splendid chance. [She glances at the COLONEL.] I've put all my
spare cash into it. They're issuing some Preference shares now; if
Uncle Tom wants an investment"--[She pauses, then in a changed,
decided voice ]--Well, I suppose I shall have to screw him in
somehow.
COLONEL. What's that about gold mines? Gambling nonsense! Molly
ought to know my views.
MRS. HOPE. [Folding the letter away out of her consciousness.] Oh!
your views! This may be a specially good chance.
MISS BEECH. Ahem! Special case!
MRS. HOPE. [Paying no attention.] I 'm sick of these 3 per cent.
dividends. When you've only got so little money, to put it all into
that India Stock, when it might be earning 6 per cent. at least,
quite safely! There are ever so many things I want.
COLONEL. There you go!
MRS. HOPE. As to Molly, I think it's high time her husband came home
to look after her, instead of sticking out there in that hot place.
In fact
[Miss BEECH looks up at the tree and exhibits cerebral
excitement]
I don't know what Geoff's about; why doesn't he find something in
England, where they could live together.
COLONEL. Don't say anything against Molly, Nell!
MRS. HOPE. Well, I don't believe in husband and wife being
separated. That's not my idea of married life.
[The COLONEL whistles quizzically.]
Ah, yes, she's your niece, not mime! Molly's very----
MISS BEECH. Ouch! [She sucks her finger.]
MRS. HOPE. Well, if I couldn't sew at your age, Peachey, without
pricking my fingers! Tom, if I have Mr. Lever here, you'll just
attend to what I say and look into that mine!
COLONEL. Look into your grandmother! I have n't made a study of
geology for nothing. For every ounce you take out of a gold mine,
you put an ounce and a half in. Any fool knows that, eh, Peachey?
MISS BEECH. I hate your horrid mines, with all the poor creatures
underground.
MRS. HOPE. Nonsense, Peachey! As if they'd go there if they did n't
want to!
COLONEL. Why don't you read your paper, then you'd see what a lot of
wild-cat things there are about.
MRS. HOPE. [Abstractedly.] I can't put Ernest and Letty in the blue
room, there's only the single bed. Suppose I put Mr. Lever there,
and say nothing about the earwigs. I daresay he'll never notice.
COLONEL. Treat a guest like that!
MRS. HOPE. Then where am I to put him for goodness sake?
COLONEL. Put him in my dressing-room, I'll turn out.
MRS. HOPE. Rubbish, Tom, I won't have you turned out, that's flat.
He can have Joy's room, and she can sleep with the earwigs.
JOY. [From her hiding-place upon a lower branch of the hollow tree.]
I won't.
[MRS. HOPE and the COLONEL jump.]
COLONEL. God bless my soul!
MRS. HOPE. You wretched girl! I told you never to climb that tree
again. Did you know, Peachey? [Miss BEECH smiles.] She's always up
there, spoiling all her frocks. Come down now, Joy; there's a good
child!
JOY. I don't want to sleep with earwigs, Aunt Nell.
MISS BEECH. I'll sleep with the poor creatures.
MRS. HOPE, [After a pause.] Well, it would be a mercy if you would
for once, Peachey.
COLONEL. Nonsense, I won't have Peachey----
MRS. HOPE. Well, who is to sleep there then?
JOY. [Coaxingly.] Let me sleep with Mother, Aunt Nell, do!
MRS. HOPE. Litter her up with a great girl like you, as if we'd only
one spare room! Tom, see that she comes down--I can't stay here, I
must manage something. [She goes away towards the house.]
COLONEL. [Moving to the tree, and looking up.] You heard what your
aunt said?
JOY. [Softly.] Oh, Uncle Tom!
COLONEL. I shall have to come up after you.
JOY. Oh, do, and Peachey too!
COLONEL. [Trying to restrain a smile.] Peachey, you talk to her.
[Without waiting for MISS BEECH, however, he proceeds.] What'll your
aunt say to me if I don't get you down?
MISS BEECH. Poor creature!
JOY. I don't want to be worried about my frock.
COLONEL. [Scratching his bald head.] Well, I shall catch it.
JOY. Oh, Uncle Tom, your head is so beautiful from here! [Leaning
over, she fans it with a leafy twig.]
MISS BEECH. Disrespectful little toad!
COLONEL. [Quickly putting on his hat.] You'll fall out, and a
pretty mess that'll make on--[he looks uneasily at the ground]--my
lawn!
[A voice is heard calling "Colonel! Colonel!]"
JOY. There's Dick calling you, Uncle Tom.
[She disappears.]
DICK. [Appearing in the opening of the wall.] Ernie's waiting to
play you that single, Colonel!
[He disappears.]
JOY. Quick, Uncle Tom! Oh! do go, before he finds I 'm up here.
MISS. BEECH. Secret little creature!
[The COLONEL picks up his racquet, shakes his fist, and goes
away.]
JOY. [Calmly.] I'm coming down now, Peachey.
[Climbing down.]
Look out! I'm dropping on your head.
MISS BEECH. [Unmoved.] Don't hurt yourself!
[Joy drops on the rustic seat and rubs her shin. Told you so!]
[She hunts in a little bag for plaster.]
Let's see!
JOY. [Seeing the worms.] Ugh!
MISS BEECH. What's the matter with the poor creatures?
JOY. They're so wriggly!
[She backs away and sits down in the swing. She is just
seventeen, light and slim, brown-haired, fresh-coloured, and
grey-eyed; her white frock reaches to her ankles, she wears a
sunbonnet.] Peachey, how long were you Mother's governess.
MISS BEECH. Five years.
JOY. Was she as bad to teach as me?
MISS BEECH. Worse!
[Joy claps her hands.]
She was the worst girl I ever taught.
JOY. Then you weren't fond of her?
MISS BEECH. Oh! yes, I was.
JOY. Fonder than of me?
MISS BEECH. Don't you ask such a lot of questions.
JOY. Peachey, duckie, what was Mother's worst fault?
MISS BEECH. Doing what she knew she oughtn't.
JOY. Was she ever sorry?
MISS BEECH. Yes, but she always went on doin' it.
JOY. I think being sorry 's stupid!
MISS BEECH. Oh, do you?
JOY. It isn't any good. Was Mother revengeful, like me?
MISS BEECH. Ah! Wasn't she?
JOY. And jealous?
MISS BEECH. The most jealous girl I ever saw.
JOY. [Nodding.] I like to be like her.
MISS BEECH. [Regarding her intently.] Yes! you've got all your
troubles before you.
JOY. Mother was married at eighteen, wasn't she, Peachey? Was she--
was she much in love with Father then?
MISS BEECH. [With a sniff.] About as much as usual. [She takes the
paint pot, and walking round begins to release the worms.]
JOY. [Indifferently.] They don't get on now, you know.
MISS BEECH. What d'you mean by that, disrespectful little creature?
JOY. [In a hard voice.] They haven't ever since I've known them.
MISS BEECH. [Looks at her, and turns away again.] Don't talk about
such things.
JOY. I suppose you don't know Mr. Lever? [Bitterly.] He's such a
cool beast. He never loses his temper.
MISS BEECH. Is that why you don't like him?
JOY. [Frowning.] No--yes--I don't know.
MISS BEECH. Oh! perhaps you do like him?
JOY. I don't; I hate him.
MISS BEECH. [Standing still.] Fie! Naughty Temper!
JOY. Well, so would you! He takes up all Mother's time.
MISS BEECH. [In a peculiar voice.] Oh! does he?
JOY. When he comes I might just as well go to bed. [Passionately.]
And now he's chosen to-day to come down here, when I haven't seen her
for two months! Why couldn't he come when Mother and I'd gone home.
It's simply brutal!
MISS BEECH. But your mother likes him?
JOY. [Sullenly.] I don't want her to like him.
MISS BEECH. [With a long look at Joy.] I see!
JOY. What are you doing, Peachey?
MISS BEECH. [Releasing a worm.] Letting the poor creatures go.
JOY. If I tell Dick he'll never forgive you.
MISS BEECH. [Sidling behind the swing and plucking off Joy's
sunbonnet. With devilry.] Ah-h-h! You've done your hair up; so
that's why you wouldn't come down!
JOY. [Springing up, anal pouting.] I didn't want any one to see
before Mother. You are a pig, Peachey!
MISS BEECH. I thought there was something!
JOY. [Twisting round.] How does it look?
MISS BEECH. I've seen better.
JOY. You tell any one before Mother comes, and see what I do!
MISS BEECH. Well, don't you tell about my worms, then!
JOY. Give me my hat! [Backing hastily towards the tree, and putting
her finger to her lips.] Look out! Dick!
MISS BEECH. Oh! dear!
[She sits down on the swing, concealing the paint pot with her
feet and skirts.]
JOY. [On the rustic seat, and in a violent whisper.] I hope the
worms will crawl up your legs!
[DICK, in flannels and a hard straw hat comes in. He is a quiet
and cheerful boy of twenty. His eyes are always fixed on joy.]
DICK. [Grimacing.] The Colonel's getting licked. Hallo! Peachey,
in the swing?
JOY. [Chuckling.] Swing her, Dick!
MISS BEECH. [Quivering with emotion.] Little creature!
JOY. Swing her!
[DICK takes the ropes.]
MISS BEECH. [Quietly.] It makes me sick, young man.
DICK. [Patting her gently on the back.] All right, Peachey.
MISS BEECH. [Maliciously.] Could you get me my sewing from the
seat? Just behind Joy.
JOY. [Leaning her head against the tree.] If you do, I won't dance
with you to-night.
[DICK stands paralysed. Miss BEECH gets off the swing, picks up
the paint pot, and stands concealing it behind her.]
JOY. Look what she's got behind her, sly old thing!
MISS BEECH. Oh! dear!
JOY. Dance with her, Dick!
MISS BEECH. If he dare!
JOY. Dance with her, or I won't dance with you to-night.
[She whistles a waltz.]
DICK. [Desperately.] Come on then, Peachey. We must.
JOY. Dance, dance!
[DICK seizes Miss BEECH by the waist. She drops the paint pot.
They revolve.] [Convulsed.]
Oh, Peachey, Oh!
[Miss BEECH is dropped upon the rustic seat. DICK seizes joy's
hands and drags her up.]
No, no! I won't!
MISS BEECH. [Panting.] Dance, dance with the poor young man! [She
moves her hands.] La la-la-la la-la la la!
[DICK and JOY dance.]
DICK. By Jove, Joy! You've done your hair up. I say, how jolly!
You do look----
JOY. [Throwing her hands up to her hair.] I did n't mean you to
see!
DICK. [In a hurt voice.] Oh! didn't you? I'm awfully sorry!
JOY. [Flashing round.] Oh, you old Peachey!
[She looks at the ground, and then again at DICK.]
MISS BEECH. [Sidling round the tree.] Oh! dear!
JOY. [Whispering.] She's been letting out your worms.
[Miss BEECH disappears from view.]
Look!
DICK. [Quickly.] Hang the worms! Joy, promise me the second and
fourth and sixth and eighth and tenth and supper, to-night. Promise!
Do!
[Joy shakes her head.]
It's not much to ask.
JOY. I won't promise anything.
DICK. Why not?
JOY. Because Mother's coming. I won't make any arrangements.
DICK. [Tragically.] It's our last night.
JOY. [Scornfully.] You don't understand! [Dancing and clasping her
hands.] Mother's coming, Mother's coming!
DICK. [Violently.] I wish----Promise, Joy!
JOY. [Looking over her shoulder.] Sly old thing! If you'll pay
Peachey out, I'll promise you supper!
MISS BEECH. [From behind the tree.] I hear you.
JOY. [Whispering.] Pay her out, pay her out! She's let out all
your worms!
DICK. [Looking moodily at the paint pot.] I say, is it true that
Maurice Lever's coming with your mother? I've met him playing
cricket, he's rather a good sort.
JOY. [Flashing out.] I hate him.
DICK. [Troubled.] Do you? Why? I thought--I didn't know--if I'd
known of course, I'd have----
[He is going to say "hated him too!" But the voices of ERNEST
BLUNT and the COLONEL are heard approaching, in dispute.]
JOY. Oh! Dick, hide me, I don't want my hair seen till Mother
comes.
[She springs into the hollow tree. The COLONEL and ERNEST
appear in the opening of the wall.]
ERNEST. The ball was out, Colonel.
COLONEL. Nothing of the sort.
ERNEST. A good foot out.
COLONEL. It was not, sir. I saw the chalk fly.
[ERNEST is twenty-eight, with a little moustache, and the
positive cool voice of a young man who knows that he knows
everything. He is perfectly calm.]
ERNEST. I was nearer to it than you.
COLONEL. [In a high, hot voice.] I don't care where you were, I
hate a fellow who can't keep cool.
MISS BEECH. [From behind the hollow tree.] Fie! Fie!
ERNEST. We're two to one, Letty says the ball was out.
COLONEL. Letty's your wife, she'd say anything.
ERNEST. Well, look here, Colonel, I'll show you the very place it
pitched.
COLONEL. Gammon! You've lost your temper, you don't know what
you're talking about.
ERNEST. [coolly.] I suppose you'll admit the rule that one umpires
one's own court.
COLONEL. [Hotly.] Certainly not, in this case!
MISS BEECH. [From behind the hollow tree.] Special case!
ERNEST. [Moving chin in collar--very coolly.] Well, of course if
you won't play the game!
COLONEL. [In a towering passion.] If you lose your temper like
this, I 'll never play with you again.
[To LETTY, a pretty soul in a linen suit, approaching through
the wall.]
Do you mean to say that ball was out, Letty?
LETTY. Of course it was, Father.
COLONEL. You say that because he's your husband. [He sits on the
rustic seat.] If your mother'd been there she'd have backed me up!
LETTY. Mother wants Joy, Dick, about her frock.
DICK. I--I don't know where she is.
MISS BEECH. [From behind the hollow tree.] Ahem!
LETTY. What's the matter, Peachey?
MISS BEECH. Swallowed a fly. Poor creature!
ERNEST. [Returning to his point.] Why I know the ball was out,
Colonel, was because it pitched in a line with that arbutus tree.
COLONEL. [Rising.] Arbutus tree! [To his daughter.] Where's your
mother?
LETTY. In the blue room, Father.
ERNEST. The ball was a good foot out; at the height it was coming
when it passed me.
COLONEL. [Staring at him.] You're a--you're aa theorist! From
where you were you could n't see the ball at all. [To LETTY.]
Where's your mother?
LETTY. [Emphatically.] In the blue room, Father!
[The COLONEL glares confusedly, and goes away towards the blue
room.]
ERNEST. [In the swing, and with a smile.] Your old Dad'll never be
a sportsman!
LETTY. [Indignantly.] I wish you wouldn't call Father old, Ernie!
What time's Molly coming, Peachey?
[ROSE has come from the house, and stands waiting for a chance
to speak.]
ERNEST. [Breaking in.] Your old Dad's only got one fault: he can't
take an impersonal view of things.
MISS BEECH. Can you find me any one who can?
ERNEST. [With a smile.] Well, Peachey!
MISS BEECH. [Ironically.] Oh! of course, there's you!
ERNEST. I don't know about that! But----
ROSE. [To LETTY,] Please, Miss, the Missis says will you and Mr.
Ernest please to move your things into Miss Peachey's room.
ERNEST. [Vexed.] Deuce of a nuisance havin' to turn out for this
fellow Lever. What did Molly want to bring him for?
MISS BEECH. Course you've no personal feeling in the matter!
ROSE. [Speaking to Miss BEECH.] The Missis says you're to please
move your things into the blue room, please Miss.
LETTY. Aha, Peachey! That settles you! Come on, Ernie!
[She goes towards the house. ERNEST, rising from the swing,
turns to Miss BEECH, who follows.]
ERNEST. [Smiling, faintly superior.] Personal, not a bit! I only
think while Molly 's out at grass, she oughtn't to----
MISS BEECH. [Sharply.] Oh! do you?
[She hustles ERNEST out through the wall, but his voice is heard
faintly from the distance: "I think it's jolly thin."]
ROSE. [To DICK.] The Missis says you're to take all your worms and
things, Sir, and put them where they won't be seen.
DICK. [Shortly.] Have n't got any!
ROSE. The Missis says she'll be very angry if you don't put your
worms away; and would you come and help kill earwigs in the blue----?
DICK. Hang! [He goes, and ROSE is left alone.]
ROSE. [Looking straight before her.] Please, Miss Joy, the Missis
says will you go to her about your frock.
[There is a little pause, then from the hollow tree joy's voice
is heard.]
JOY. No-o!
ROSE. If you did n't come, I was to tell you she was going to put
you in the blue.
[Joy looks out of the tree.]
[Immovable, but smiling.]
Oh, Miss joy, you've done your hair up! [Joy retires into the tree.]
Please, Miss, what shall I tell the Missis?
JOY. [Joy's voice is heard.] Anything you like.
ROSE. [Over her shoulder.] I shall be drove to tell her a story,
Miss.
JOY. All right! Tell it.
[ROSE goes away, and JOY comes out. She sits on the rustic seat
and waits. DICK, coming softly from the house, approaches her.]
DICK. [Looking at her intently.] Joy! I wanted to say something
[Joy does not look at him, but twists her fingers.]
I shan't see you again you know after to-morrow till I come up for
the 'Varsity match.
JOY. [Smiling.] But that's next week.
DICK. Must you go home to-morrow?
[Joy nods three times.]
[Coming closer.]
I shall miss you so awfully. You don't know how I----
[Joy shakes her head.]
Do look at me! [JOY steals a look.] Oh! Joy!
[Again joy shakes her head.]
JOY. [Suddenly.] Don't!
DICK. [Seizing her hand.] Oh, Joy! Can't you----
JOY. [Drawing the hand away.] Oh! don't.
DICK. [Bending his head.] It's--it's--so----
JOY. [Quietly.] Don't, Dick!
DICK. But I can't help it! It's too much for me, Joy, I must tell
you----
[MRS. GWYN is seen approaching towards the house.]
JOY. [Spinning round.] It's Mother--oh, Mother!
[She rushes at her.]
[MRS. GWYN is a handsome creature of thirty-six, dressed in a
muslin frock. She twists her daughter round, and kisses her.]
MRS. GWYN. How sweet you look with your hair up, Joy! Who 's this?
[Glancing with a smile at DICK.]
JOY. Dick Merton--in my letters you know.
[She looks at DICK as though she wished him gone.]
MRS. GWYN. How do you do?
DICK. [Shaking hands.] How d 'you do? I think if you'll excuse me
--I'll go in.
[He goes uncertainly.]
MRS. GWYN. What's the matter with him?
JOY. Oh, nothing! [Hugging her.] Mother! You do look such a duck.
Why did you come by the towing-path, was n't it cooking?
MRS. GWYN. [Avoiding her eyes.] Mr. Lever wanted to go into Mr.
Henty's.
[Her manner is rather artificially composed.]
JOY. [Dully.] Oh! Is he-is he really coming here, Mother?
MRS. GWYN. [Whose voice has hardened just a little.] If Aunt Nell's
got a room for him--of course--why not?
JOY. [Digging her chin into her mother's shoulder.]
[Why couldn't he choose some day when we'd gone? I wanted you
all to myself.]
MRS. GWYN. You are a quaint child--when I was your age----
JOY. [Suddenly looking up.] Oh! Mother, you must have been a
chook!
MRS. GWYN. Well, I was about twice as old as you, I know that.
JOY. Had you any--any other offers before you were married, Mother?
MRS. GWYN. [Smilingly.] Heaps!
JOY. [Reflectively.] Oh!
MRS. GWYN. Why? Have you been having any?
JOY. [Glancing at MRS. GWYN, and then down.] N-o, of course not!
MRS. GWYN. Where are they all? Where's Peachey?
JOY. Fussing about somewhere; don't let's hurry! Oh! you duckie--
duckie! Aren't there any letters from Dad?
MRS. GWYN. [In a harder voice.] Yes, one or two.
JOY. [Hesitating.] Can't I see?
MRS. GWYN. I didn't bring them. [Changing the subject obviously.]
Help me to tidy--I'm so hot I don't know what to do.
[She takes out a powder-puff bag, with a tiny looking-glass.]
JOY. How lovely it'll be to-morrow-going home!
MRS. GWYN. [With an uneasy look.] London's dreadfully stuffy, Joy.
You 'll only get knocked up again.
JOY. [With consternation.] Oh! but Mother, I must come.
MRS. GWYN. (Forcing a smile.) Oh, well, if you must, you must!
[Joy makes a dash at her.]
Don't rumple me again. Here's Uncle Tom.
JOY. [Quickly.] Mother, we're going to dance tonight; promise to
dance with me--there are three more girls than men, at least--and
don't dance too much with--with--you know--because I'm--[dropping her
voice and very still]--jealous.
MRS. GWYN. [Forcing a laugh.] You are funny!
JOY. [Very quickly.] I haven't made any engagements because of you.
[The COLONEL approaches through the wall.]
MRS. GWYN. Well, Uncle Tom?
COLONEL. [Genially.] Why, Molly! [He kisses her.] What made you
come by the towing-path?
JOY. Because it's so much cooler, of course.
COLONEL. Hallo! What's the matter with you? Phew! you've got your
hair up! Go and tell your aunt your mother's on the lawn. Cut
along!
[Joy goes, blowing a kiss.]
Cracked about you, Molly! Simply cracked! We shall miss her when
you take her off to-morrow. [He places a chair for her.] Sit down,
sit down, you must be tired in this heat. I 've sent Bob for your
things with the wheelbarrow; what have you got?--only a bag, I
suppose.
MRS. GWYN. [Sitting, with a smile.] That's all, Uncle Tom, except--
my trunk and hat-box.
COLONEL. Phew! And what's-his-name brought a bag, I suppose?
MRS. GWYN. They're all together. I hope it's not too much, Uncle
Tom.
COLONEL. [Dubiously.] Oh! Bob'll manage! I suppose you see a good
deal of--of--Lever. That's his brother in the Guards, isn't it?
MRS. GWYN. Yes.
COLONEL. Now what does this chap do?
MRS. GWYN. What should he do, Uncle Tom? He's a Director.
COLONEL. Guinea-pig! [Dubiously.] Your bringing him down was a
good idea.
[MRS. GWYN, looking at him sidelong, bites her lips.]
I should like to have a look at him. But, I say, you know, Molly--
mines, mines! There are a lot of these chaps about, whose business
is to cook their own dinners. Your aunt thinks----
MRS. GWYN. Oh! Uncle Tom, don't tell me what Aunt Nell thinks!
COLONEL. Well-well! Look here, old girl! It's my experience never
to--what I mean is--never to trust too much to a man who has to do
with mining. I've always refused to have anything to do with mines.
If your husband were in England, of course, I'd say nothing.
MRS. GWYN. [Very still.] We'd better keep him out of the question,
had n't we?
COLONEL. Of course, if you wish it, my dear.
MRS. GWYN. Unfortunately, I do.
COLONEL. [Nervously.] Ah! yes, I know; but look here, Molly, your
aunt thinks you're in a very delicate position-in fact, she thinks
you see too much of young Lever.
MRS. GWYN. [Stretching herself like an angry cat.] Does she? And
what do you think?
COLONEL. I? I make a point of not thinking. I only know that here
he is, and I don't want you to go burning your fingers, eh?
[MRS. GWYN sits with a vindictive smile.]
A gold mine's a gold mine. I don't mean he deliberately--but they
take in women and parsons, and--and all sorts of fools. [Looking
down.] And then, you know, I can't tell your feelings, my dear, and
I don't want to; but a man about town 'll compromise a woman as soon
as he'll look at her, and [softly shaking his head] I don't like
that, Molly! It 's not the thing!
[MRS. GWYN sits unmoved, smiling the same smile, and the COLONEL
gives her a nervous look.]
If--if you were any other woman I should n't care--and if--if you
were a plain woman, damme, you might do what you liked! I know you
and Geoff don't get on; but here's this child of yours, devoted to
you, and--and don't you see, old girl? Eh?
MRS. GWYN. [With a little hard laugh.] Thanks! Perfectly! I
suppose as you don't think, Uncle Tom, it never occurred to you that
I have rather a lonely time of it.
COLONEL. [With compunction.] Oh! my dear, yes, of course I know it
must be beastly.
MRS. GWYN. [Stonily.] It is.
COLONEL. Yes, yes! [Speaking in a surprised voice.] I don't know
what I 'm talking like this for! It's your aunt! She goes on at me
till she gets on my nerves. What d' you think she wants me to do
now? Put money into this gold mine! Did you ever hear such folly?
MRS. GWYN. [Breaking into laughter.] Oh! Uncle Tom!
COLONEL. All very well for you to laugh, Molly!
MRS. GWYN. [Calmly.] And how much are you going to put in?
COLONEL. Not a farthing! Why, I've got nothing but my pension and
three thousand India stock!
MRS. GWYN. Only ninety pounds a year, besides your pension! D' you
mean to say that's all you've got, Uncle Tom? I never knew that
before. What a shame!
COLONEL. [Feelingly.] It is a, d--d shame! I don't suppose there's
another case in the army of a man being treated as I've been.
MRS. GWYN. But how on earth do you manage here on so little?
COLONEL. [Brooding.] Your aunt's very funny. She's a born manager.
She 'd manage the hind leg off a donkey; but if I want five shillings
for a charity or what not, I have to whistle for it. And then all of
a sudden, Molly, she'll take it into her head to spend goodness knows
what on some trumpery or other and come to me for the money. If I
have n't got it to give her, out she flies about 3 per cent., and
worries me to invest in some wild-cat or other, like your friend's
thing, the Jaco what is it? I don't pay the slightest attention to
her.
MRS. HOPE. [From the direction of the house.] Tom!
COLONEL. [Rising.] Yes, dear! [Then dropping his voice.] I say,
Molly, don't you mind what I said about young Lever. I don't want
you to imagine that I think harm of people--you know I don't--but so
many women come to grief, and--[hotly]--I can't stand men about town;
not that he of course----
MRS. HOPE, [Peremptorily.] Tom!
COLONEL. [In hasty confidence.] I find it best to let your aunt run
on. If she says anything----
MRS. HOPE. To-om!
COLONEL. Yes, dear!
[He goes hastily. MRS. GWYN sits drawing circles on the ground
with her charming parasol. Suddenly she springs to her feet,
and stands waiting like an animal at bay. The COLONEL and MRS.
HOPE approach her talking.]
MRS. HOPE. Well, how was I to know?
COLONEL. Did n't Joy come and tell you?
MRS. HOPE. I don't know what's the matter with that child? Well,
Molly, so here you are. You're before your time--that train's always
late.
MRS. GWYN. [With faint irony.] I'm sorry, Aunt Nell!
[They bob, seem to take fright, and kiss each other gingerly.]
MRS. HOPE. What have you done with Mr. Lever? I shall have to put
him in Peachey's room. Tom's got no champagne.
COLONEL. They've a very decent brand down at the George, Molly, I'll
send Bob over----
MRS. HOPE. Rubbish, Tom! He'll just have to put up with what he can
get!
MRS. GWYN. Of course! He's not a snob! For goodness sake, Aunt
Nell, don't put yourself out! I'm sorry I suggested his coming.
COLONEL. My dear, we ought to have champagne in the house--in case
of accident.
MRS. GWYN. [Shaking him gently by the coat.] No, please, Uncle
Tom!
MRS. HOPE. [Suddenly.] Now, I've told your uncle, Molly, that he's
not to go in for this gold mine without making certain it's a good
thing. Mind, I think you've been very rash. I'm going to give you a
good talking to; and that's not all--you ought n't to go about like
this with a young man; he's not at all bad looking. I remember him
perfectly well at the Fleming's dance.
[On MRS. GWYN's lips there comes a little mocking smile.]
COLONEL. [Pulling his wife's sleeve.] Nell!
MRS. HOPE. No, Tom, I'm going to talk to Molly; she's old enough to
know better.
MRS. GWYN. Yes?
MRS. HOPE. Yes, and you'll get yourself into a mess; I don't approve
of it, and when I see a thing I don't approve of----
COLONEL. [Walking about, and pulling his moustache.] Nell, I won't
have it, I simply won't have it.
MRS. HOPE. What rate of interest are these Preference shares to pay?
MRS. GWYN. [Still smiling.] Ten per cent.
MRS. HOPE. What did I tell you, Tom? And are they safe?
MRS. GWYN. You'd better ask Maurice.
MRS. HOPE. There, you see, you call him Maurice! Now supposing your
uncle went in for some of them----
COLONEL. [Taking off his hat-in a high, hot voice] I'm not going in
for anything of the sort.
MRS. HOPE. Don't swing your hat by the brim! Go and look if you can
see him coming!
[The COLONEL goes.]
[In a lower voice.] Your uncle's getting very bald. I 've only
shoulder of lamb for lunch, and a salad. It's lucky it's too hot to
eat.
[MISS BEECH has appeared while she is speaking.]
Here she is, Peachey!
MISS BEECH. I see her. [She kisses MRS. GWYN, and looks at her
intently.]
MRS. GWYN. [Shrugging her shoulders.] Well, Peachey! What d 'you
make of me?
COLONEL. [Returning from his search.] There's a white hat crossing
the second stile. Is that your friend, Molly?
[MRS. GWYN nods.]
MRS. HOPE. Oh! before I forget, Peachey--Letty and Ernest can move
their things back again. I'm going to put Mr. Lever in your room.
[Catching sight o f the paint pot on the ground.] There's that
disgusting paint pot! Take it up at once, Tom, and put it in the
tree.
[The COLONEL picks up the pot and bears it to the hollow tree
followed by MRS. HOPE; he enters.]
MRS. HOPE. [Speaking into the tree.] Not there!
COLONEL. [From within.] Well, where then?
MRS. HOPE. Why--up--oh! gracious!
[MRS. GWYN, standing alone, is smiling. LEVER approaches from
the towing-path. He is a man like a fencer's wrist, supple and
steely. A man whose age is difficult to tell, with a quick,
good-looking face, and a line between his brows; his darkish
hair is flecked with grey. He gives the feeling that he has
always had to spurt to keep pace with his own life.]
MRS. HOPE. [Also entering the hollow tree.] No-oh!
COLONEL. [From the depths, in a high voice.] Well, dash it then!
What do you want?
MRS. GWYN. Peachey, may I introduce Mr. Lever to you? Miss Beech,
my old governess.
[They shake each other by the hand.]
LEVER. How do you do? [His voice is pleasant, his manner easy.]
MISS BEECH. Pleased to meet you.
[Her manner is that of one who is not pleased. She watches.]
MRS. GWYN. [Pointing to the tree-maliciously.] This is my uncle and
my aunt. They're taking exercise, I think.
[The COLONEL and MRS. HOPE emerge convulsively. They are very
hot. LEVER and MRS. GWYN are very cool.]
MRS. HOPE. [Shaking hands with him.] So you 've got here! Are n't
you very hot?--Tom!
COLONEL. Brought a splendid day with you! Splendid!
[As he speaks, Joy comes running with a bunch of roses; seeing
LEVER, she stops and stands quite rigid.]
MISS BEECH. [Sitting in the swing.] Thunder!
COLONEL. Thunder? Nonsense, Peachey, you're always imagining
something. Look at the sky!
MISS BEECH. Thunder!
[MRS. GWYN's smile has faded. ]
MRS. HOPE. [Turning.] Joy, don't you see Mr. Lever?
[Joy, turning to her mother, gives her the roses. With a forced
smile, LEVER advances, holding out his hand.]
LEVER. How are you, Joy? Have n't seen you for an age!
JOY. [Without expression.] I am very well, thank you.
[She raises her hand, and just touches his. MRS. GWYN'S eyes
are fixed on her daughter. Miss BEECH is watching them
intently. MRS. HOPE is buttoning the COLONEL'S coat.]
The curtain falls.
ACT II
It is afternoon, and at a garden-table placed beneath the hollow
tree, the COLONEL is poring over plans. Astride of a
garden-chair, LEVER is smoking cigarettes. DICK is hanging
Chinese lanterns to the hollow tree.
LEVER. Of course, if this level [pointing with his cigarette]
peters out to the West we shall be in a tightish place; you know what
a mine is at this stage, Colonel Hope.
COLONEL. [Absently.] Yes, yes. [Tracing a line.] What is there to
prevent its running out here to the East?
LEVER. Well, nothing, except that as a matter of fact it doesn't.
COLONEL. [With some excitement.] I'm very glad you showed me these
papers, very glad! I say that it's a most astonishing thing if the
ore suddenly stops there. [A gleam of humour visits LEVER'S face.]
I'm not an expert, but you ought to prove that ground to the East
more thoroughly.
LEVER. [Quizzically.] Of course, sir, if you advise that----
COLONEL. If it were mine, I'd no more sit down under the belief that
the ore stopped there than I 'd---There's a harmony in these things.
NEVER. I can only tell you what our experts say.
COLONEL. Ah! Experts! No faith in them--never had! Miners,
lawyers, theologians, cowardly lot--pays them to be cowardly. When
they have n't their own axes to grind, they've got their theories; a
theory's a dangerous thing. [He loses himself in contemplation of
the papers.] Now my theory is, you 're in strata here of what we
call the Triassic Age.
LEVER. [Smiling faintly.] Ah!
COLONEL. You've struck a fault, that's what's happened. The ore may
be as much as thirty or forty yards out; but it 's there, depend on
it.
LEVER. Would you back that opinion, sir?
COLONEL. [With dignity.] I never give an opinion that I'm not
prepared to back. I want to get to the bottom of this. What's to
prevent the gold going down indefinitely?
LEVER. Nothing, so far as I know.
COLONEL. [With suspicion.] Eh!
LEVER. All I can tell you is: This is as far as we've got, and we
want more money before we can get any farther.
COLONEL. [Absently.] Yes, yes; that's very usual.
LEVER. If you ask my personal opinion I think it's very doubtful
that the gold does go down.
COLONEL. [Smiling.] Oh! a personal opinion a matter of this sort!
LEVER. [As though about to take the papers.] Perhaps we'd better
close the sitting, sir; sorry to have bored you.
COLONEL. Now, now! Don't be so touchy! If I'm to put money in, I'm
bound to look at it all round.
LEVER. [With lifted brows.] Please don't imagine that I want you to
put money in.
COLONEL. Confound it, sir! D 'you suppose I take you for a Company
promoter?
LEVER. Thank you!
COLONEL. [Looking at him doubtfully.] You've got Irish blood in
you--um? You're so hasty!
LEVER. If you 're really thinking of taking shares--my advice to you
is, don't!
COLONEL. [Regretfully.] If this were an ordinary gold mine, I
wouldn't dream of looking at it, I want you to understand that.
Nobody has a greater objection to gold mines than I.
LEVER. [Looks down at his host with half-closed eyes.] But it is a
gold mine, Colonel Hope.
COLONEL. I know, I know; but I 've been into it for myself; I've
formed my opinion personally. Now, what 's the reason you don't want
me to invest?
LEVER. Well, if it doesn't turn out as you expect, you'll say it's
my doing. I know what investors are.
COLONEL. [Dubiously.] If it were a Westralian or a Kaffir I would
n't touch it with a pair of tongs! It 's not as if I were going to
put much in! [He suddenly bends above the papers as though
magnetically attracted.] I like these Triassic formations!
[DICK, who has hung the last lantern, moodily departs.]
LEVER. [Looking after him.] That young man seems depressed.
COLONEL. [As though remembering his principles.] I don't like
mines, never have! [Suddenly absorbed again.] I tell you what,
Lever--this thing's got tremendous possibilities. You don't seem to
believe in it enough. No mine's any good without faith; until I see
for myself, however, I shan't commit myself beyond a thousand.
LEVER. Are you serious, sir?
COLONEL. Certainly! I've been thinking it over ever since you told
me Henty had fought shy. I 've a poor opinion of Henty. He's one of
those fellows that says one thing and does another. An opportunist!
LEVER. [Slowly.] I'm afraid we're all that, more or less. [He sits
beneath the hollow tree.]
COLONEL. A man never knows what he is himself. There 's my wife.
She thinks she 's----By the way, don't say anything to her about
this, please. And, Lever [nervously], I don't think, you know, this
is quite the sort of thing for my niece.
LEVER. [Quietly.] I agree. I mean to get her out of it.
COLONEL. [A little taken aback.] Ah! You know, she--she's in a
very delicate position, living by herself in London. [LEVER looks at
him ironically.] You [very nervously] see a good deal of her? If
it had n't been for Joy growing so fast, we shouldn't have had the
child down here. Her mother ought to have her with her. Eh! Don't
you think so?
LEVER. [Forcing a smile.] Mrs. Gwyn always seems to me to get on
all right.
COLONEL. [As though making a discovery.] You know, I've found that
when a woman's living alone and unprotected, the very least thing
will set a lot of hags and jackanapes talking. [Hotly.] The more
unprotected and helpless a woman is, the more they revel in it. If
there's anything I hate in this world, it's those wretched creatures
who babble about their neighbours' affairs.
LEVER. I agree with you.
COLONEL. One ought to be very careful not to give them--that is----
[checks himself confused; then hurrying on]--I suppose you and Joy
get on all right?
LEVER. [Coolly.] Pretty well, thanks. I'm not exactly in Joy's
line; have n't seen very much of her, in fact.
[Miss BEECH and JOY have been approaching from the house. But
seeing LEVER, JOY turns abruptly, hesitates a moment, and with
an angry gesture goes away.]
COLONEL [Unconscious.] Wonderfully affectionate little thing! Well,
she'll be going home to-morrow!
MISS BEECH. [Who has been gazing after JOY.] Talkin' business, poor
creatures?
LEVER. Oh, no! If you'll excuse me, I'll wash my hands before tea.
[He glances at the COLONEL poring over papers, and, shrugging
his shoulders, strolls away.]
MISS BEECH. [Sitting in the swing.] I see your horrid papers.
COLONEL. Be quiet, Peachey!
MISS BEECH. On a beautiful summer's day, too.
COLONEL. That'll do now.
MISS BEECH. [Unmoved.] For every ounce you take out of a gold mine
you put two in.
COLONEL. Who told you that rubbish?
MISS BEECH. [With devilry.] You did!
COLONEL. This is n't an ordinary gold mine.
MISS BEECH. Oh! quite a special thing.
[COLONEL stares at her, but subsiding at hey impassivity, he
pores again over the papers.]
[Rosy has approached with a tea cloth.]
ROSE. If you please, sir, the Missis told me to lay the tea.
COLONEL. Go away! Ten fives fifty. Ten 5 16ths, Peachey?
MISS BEECH. I hate your nasty sums!
[ROSE goes away. The COLONEL Writes. MRS. HOPE'S voice is
heard, "Now then, bring those chairs, you two. Not that one,
Ernest." ERNEST and LETTY appear through the openings of the
wall, each with a chair.]
COLONEL. [With dull exasperation.] What do you want?
LETTY. Tea, Father.
[She places her chair and goes away.]
ERNEST. That Johnny-bird Lever is too cocksure for me, Colonel.
Those South American things are no good at all. I know all about
them from young Scrotton. There's not one that's worth a red cent.
If you want a flutter----
COLONEL. [Explosively.] Flutter! I'm not a gambler, sir!
ERNEST. Well, Colonel [with a smile], I only don't want you to chuck
your money away on a stiff 'un. If you want anything good you should
go to Mexico.
COLONEL. [Jumping up and holding out the map.] Go to [He stops in
time.] What d'you call that, eh? M-E-X----
ERNEST. [Not to be embarrassed.] It all depend on what part.
COLONEL. You think you know everything--you think nothing's right
unless it's your own idea! Be good enough to keep your advice to
yourself.
ERNEST. [Moving with his chair, and stopping with a smile.] If you
ask me, I should say it wasn't playing the game to put Molly into a
thing like that.
COLONEL. What do you mean, sir?
ERNEST. Any Juggins can see that she's a bit gone on our friend.
COLONEL. [Freezingly.] Indeed!
ERNEST. He's not at all the sort of Johnny that appeals to me.
COLONEL. Really?
ERNEST. [Unmoved.] If I were you, Colonel, I should tip her the
wink. He was hanging about her at Ascot all the time. It 's a bit
thick!
[MRS. HOPE followed by ROSE appears from the house.]
COLONEL. [Stammering with passion.] Jackanapes!
MRS. HOPE. Don't stand there, Tom; clear those papers, and let Rose
lay the table. Now, Ernest, go and get another chair.
[The COLONEL looks wildly round and sits beneath the hollow
tree, with his head held in his hands. ROSE lays the cloth.]
MRS. BEECH. [Sitting beside the COLONEL.] Poor creature!
ERNEST. [Carrying his chair about with him.] Ask any Johnny in the
City, he 'll tell you Mexico's a very tricky country--the people are
awful rotters
MRS. HOPE. Put that chair down, Ernest.
[ERNEST looks at the chair, puts it down, opens his mouth, and
goes away. ROSE follows him.]
What's he been talking about? You oughtn't to get so excited, Tom;
is your head bad, old man? Here, take these papers! [She hands the
papers to the COLONEL.] Peachey, go in and tell them tea 'll be
ready in a minute, there 's a good soul? Oh! and on my dressing
table you'll find a bottle of Eau de Cologne.
MRS. BEECH. Don't let him get in a temper again. That 's three
times to-day!
[She goes towards the house. ]
COLONEL. Never met such a fellow in my life, the most opinionated,
narrow-minded--thinks he knows everything. Whatever Letty could see
in him I can't think. Pragmatical beggar!
MRS. HOPE. Now Tom! What have you been up to, to get into a state
like this?
COLONEL. [Avoiding her eyes.] I shall lose my temper with him one
of these days. He's got that confounded habit of thinking nobody can
be right but himself.
MRS. HOPE. That's enough! I want to talk to you seriously! Dick's
in love. I'm perfectly certain of it.
COLONEL. Love! Who's he in love with--Peachey?
MRS. HOPE. You can see it all over him. If I saw any signs of Joy's
breaking out, I'd send them both away. I simply won't have it.
COLONEL. Why, she's a child!
MRS. HOPE. [Pursuing her own thoughts.] But she isn't--not yet.
I've been watching her very carefully. She's more in love with her
Mother than any one, follows her about like a dog! She's been quite
rude to Mr. Lever.
COLONEL. [Pursuing his own thoughts.] I don't believe a word of it.
[He rises and walks about]
MRS. HOPE. Don't believe a word of what?
[The COLONEL is Silent.]
[Pursuing his thoughts with her own.]
If I thought there was anything between Molly and Mr. Lever, d 'you
suppose I'd have him in the house?
[The COLONEL stops, and gives a sort of grunt.]
He's a very nice fellow; and I want you to pump him well, Tom, and
see what there is in this mine.
COLONEL. [Uneasily.] Pump!
MRS. HOPE. [Looking at him curiously.] Yes, you 've been up to
something! Now what is it?
COLONEL. Pump my own guest! I never heard of such a thing!
MRS. HOPE. There you are on your high horse! I do wish you had a
little common-sense, Tom!
COLONEL. I'd as soon you asked me to sneak about eavesdropping!
Pump!
MRS. HOPE. Well, what were you looking at these papers for? It does
drive me so wild the way you throw away all the chances you have of
making a little money. I've got you this opportunity, and you do
nothing but rave up and down, and talk nonsense!
COLONEL. [In a high voice] Much you know about it! I 've taken a
thousand shares in this mine
[He stops dead. There is a silence. ]
MRS. HOPE. You 've--WHAT? Without consulting me? Well, then,
you 'll just go and take them out again!
COLONEL. You want me to----?
MRS. HOPE. The idea! As if you could trust your judgment in a thing
like that! You 'll just go at once and say there was a mistake; then
we 'll talk it over calmly.
COLONEL. [Drawing himself up.] Go back on what I 've said? Not if I
lose every penny! First you worry me to take the shares, and then
you worry me not--I won't have it, Nell, I won't have it!
MRS. HOPE. Well, if I'd thought you'd have forgotten what you said
this morning and turned about like this, d'you suppose I'd have
spoken to you at all? Now, do you?
COLONEL. Rubbish! If you can't see that this is a special
opportunity!
[He walks away followed by MRS. HOPE, who endeavors to make him
see her point of view. ERNEST and LETTY are now returning from
the house armed with a third chair.]
LETTY. What's the matter with everybody? Is it the heat?
ERNEST. [Preoccupied and sitting in the swing.] That sportsman,
Lever, you know, ought to be warned off.
LETTY. [Signing to ERNEST.] Where's Miss Joy, Rose?
ROSE. Don't know, Miss.
[Putting down the tray, she goes.]
[ROSE, has followed with the tea tray.]
LETTY. Ernie, be careful, you never know where Joy is.
ERNEST. [Preoccupied with his reflections.] Your old Dad 's as mad
as a hatter with me.
LETTY. Why?
ERNEST. Well, I merely said what I thought, that Molly ought to look
out what's she's doing, and he dropped on me like a cartload of
bricks.
LETTY. The Dad's very fond of Molly.
ERNEST. But look here, d'you mean to tell me that she and Lever
are n't----
LETTY. Don't! Suppose they are! If joy were to hear it'd be simply
awful. I like Molly. I 'm not going to believe anything against
her. I don't see the use of it. If it is, it is, and if it is n't,
it is n't.
ERNEST. Well, all I know is that when I told her the mine was
probably a frost she went for me like steam.
LETTY. Well, so should I. She was only sticking up for her friends.
ERNEST. Ask the old Peachey-bird. She knows a thing or two. Look
here, I don't mind a man's being a bit of a sportsman, but I think
Molly's bringin' him down here is too thick. Your old Dad's got one
of his notions that because this Josser's his guest, he must keep him
in a glass case, and take shares in his mine, and all the rest of it.
LETTY. I do think people are horrible, always thinking things. It's
not as if Molly were a stranger. She's my own cousin. I 'm not
going to believe anything about my own cousin. I simply won't.
ERNEST. [Reluctantly realising the difference that this makes.] I
suppose it does make a difference, her bein' your cousin.
LETTY. Of course it does! I only hope to goodness no one will make
Joy suspect----
[She stops and buts her finger to her lips, for JOY is coming
towards them, as the tea-bell sounds. She is followed by DICK
and MISS BEECH with the Eau de Cologne. The COLONEL and MRS.
HOPE are also coming back, discussing still each other's point
of view.]
JOY. Where 's Mother? Isn't she here?