DIGNITY UNDER DIFFICULTIES
_In the Housekeeper's Room at Wyvern_; Mrs. POMFRET, _the
Housekeeper, in a black silk gown and her smartest cap, is
seated in a winged armchair by the fire, discussing domestic
politics with_ Lady CULVERIN'S _maid_, Miss STICKLER. _The
Chef_, M. RIDEVOS, _is resting on the sofa, in languid
converse with_ Mlle. CHIFFON, Miss SPELWANE'S _maid_;
PILLINER'S _man_, LOUCH, _watches_ STEPTOE, Sir RUPERT'S
_valet, with admiring envy, as he makes himself agreeable to_
Miss PHILLIPSON, _who is in demi-toilette, as are all the
other ladies' maids present_.
_Miss Stickler_ (_in an impressive undertone_). All I _do_ say, Mrs.
Pomfret, ma'am, is this: if that girl Louisa marches into the pew
to-morrow, as she did _last_ Sunday, before the second laundry
maid--and her only under-scullery maid--such presumptiousness should
be put a stop to in future!
_Mrs. Pomfret_ (_wheezily_). Depend upon it, my dear, it's her
ignorance; but I shall most certainly speak about it. Girls must be
taught that ranks was made to be respected, and the precedency into
that pew has come down from time immemoriable, and is not to be set
aside by such as her while _I_'m 'ousekeeper here.
_Mlle. Chiffon_ (_in French, to_ M. RIDEVOS). You have the air
fatigued, my poor friend! Oh, there--but fatigued!
_M. Ridevos._ Broken, Mademoiselle, absolutely broken. But what will
you? This night I surpass myself. I achieve a masterpiece--a sublime
pyramid of quails with a sauce that will become classic. I pay now the
penalty of a veritable crisis of nerves. It is of my temperament as
artist.
[Illustration: "BROKEN, MADEMOISELLE, ABSOLUTELY BROKEN."]
_Mlle. Chiffon._ And me, my poor friend, how I have suffered from the
cookery of these others--I who have the stomach so feeble, so
fastidious! Figure to yourself an existence upon the villainous curry,
the abominable "Iahristue," beloved by these barbarians, but which
succeed with me not at all--oh, but not at all! Since I am here--ah,
the difference! I digest as of old--I am gay. But next week to return
with mademoiselle to the curry, my poor friend, what regrets!
_M. Ridevos._ For me, dear mademoiselle, for me the regrets--to hear
no more the conversation, so spiritual, so sympathetic, of a
fellow-countrywoman. For remark that here they are stupid--they
comprehend not. And the old ones they roll at me the eyes to make
terror. Behold this Gorgon who approaches. She adores me, my word of
honour, this ruin!
[Miss STICKLER _comes up to the sofa smiling in happy
unconsciousness_.
_Miss Stickler_ (_graciously_). So you've felt equal to joining us for
once, Mossoo! We feel it a very 'igh compliment, I can assure you.
We've really been feeling quite 'urt at the way you keep to
yourself--you might be a regular 'ermit for all _we_ see of you!
_M. Ridevos._ For invent, dear Mees, for create, ze arteeste must live
ze solitaire as of rule. To-night--no! I emairge, as you see, to
res-tore myself viz your smile.
_Miss Stickler_ (_flattered_). Well, I've always said, Mossoo, and I
always _will_ say, that for polite 'abits and pretty speeches, give
_me_ a Frenchman!
_M. Ridevos_ (_alarmed_). For me it is too moch 'appiness. For
anozzer, ah!
[_He kisses his fingers with ineffable grace._
_Phillipson_ (_advancing to meet_ Miss DOLMAN, _who has just
entered_). Why, I'd no idea I should meet _you_ here, Sarah! And how
have you been getting on, dear? Still with----?
_Miss Dolman_ (_checking her with a look_). Her grace? No, we parted
some time ago. I'm with Lady Rhoda Cokayne at present. (_In an
undertone, as she takes her aside._) You needn't say anything here of
your having known me at Mrs. Dickenson's. I couldn't afford to have it
get about in the circle I'm in that I'd ever lived with any but the
nobility. I'm sure you see what I mean. Of course I don't mind your
saying we've _met_.
_Phillipson._ Oh, I _quite_ understand. I'll say nothing. I'm obliged
to be careful myself, being maid to Lady Maisie Mull.
_Miss Dolman._ My _dear_ Emma! It _is_ nice seeing you again--such
_friends_ as we used to be!
_Phillipson._ At her Grace's? I'm afraid you're thinking of somebody
else. (_She crosses to_ Mrs. POMFRET.) Mrs. Pomfret, what's become of
the gentleman I travelled down with--the horse doctor? I do hope he
means to come in; he would amuse _you_, Mr. Steptoe. I never heard
anybody go on like him; he _did_ make me laugh so!
_Mrs. Pomfret._ I really can't say _where_ he is, my dear. I sent up
word to let him know he was welcome here whenever he pleased; but
perhaps he's feeling a little shy about coming down.
_Phillipson._ Oh, I don't think he suffers much from _that_. (_As the
door opens._) Ah, _there_ he is!
_Mrs. Pomfret_ (_rising, with dignity, to receive_ UNDERSHELL, _who
enters in obvious embarrassment_). Come in, sir. I'm glad to see
you've found your way down at last. Let me see, I haven't the
advantage of knowing your--Mr. Undershell, _to_ be sure! Well, Mr.
Undershell, we're very pleased to see you. I hope you'll make yourself
quite at home. Her ladyship gave particular directions that we was to
look after you--_most_ particular she was!
_Undershell._ You are very good, ma'am. I am obliged to Lady Culverin
for her (_with a gulp_) condescension. But I shall not trespass more
than a short time upon your hospitality.
_Mrs. Pomfret._ Don't speak of it as trespassing, sir. It's not often
we have a gentleman of your profession as a visitor, but you are none
the less welcome. Now I'd better introduce you all round, and then you
won't feel yourself a stranger. Miss Phillipson you _have_ met, I
know.
[_She introduces him to the others in turn_; UNDERSHELL
_bows helplessly_.
_Steptoe_ (_with urbanity_). Your fame, sir, has preceded you. And
you'll find us a very friendly and congenial little circle on a better
acquaintance--if this is your first experience of this particular form
of society?
_Undershell_ (_to himself_). I mustn't be stiff, I'll put them at
their ease. (_Aloud._) Why, I must admit, Mr. Steptoe, that I have
never before had the privilege of entering the--(_with an ingratiating
smile all round him_) the "Pugs' Parlour," as I understand you call
this very charming room.
[_The company draw themselves up and cough in
disapprobation._
_Steptoe_ (_very stiffly_). Pardon _me_, sir, you have been totally
misinformed. Such an expression is not current _here_.
_Mrs. Pomfret_ (_more stiffly still_). It is never alluded to in _my_
presence except as the 'ousekeeper's room, which is the right and
proper name for it. There may be some other term for it in the
servants' 'all for anything _I_ know to the contrary--but, if you'll
excuse me for saying so, Mr. Undershell, we'd prefer for it not to be
repeated in _our_ presence.
_Undershell_ (_confusedly_). I--I beg ten thousand pardons. (_To
himself._) To be pulled up like this for trying to be genial--it's
really _too_ humiliating!
_Steptoe_ (_relaxing_). Well, well, sir; we must make some allowances
for a neophyte. You'll know better another time, _I_ dare say. Miss
Phillipson here has been giving you a very favourable character as a
highly agreeable rattle, Mr. Undershell. I hope we may be favoured
with a specimen of your social talents later on. We're always grateful
here for anything in that way--such as a recitation now, or a comic
song, or a yumorous imitation--anything, in short, calculated to
promote the general harmony and festivity will be appreciated.
_Miss Stickler_ (_acidly_). Provided it is free from any helement of
coarseness, which we do _not_ encourage--far from it!
_Undershell_ (_suppressing his irritation_). You need be under no
alarm, madam. I do not propose to attempt a performance of _any_ kind.
_Phillipson._ Don't be so solemn, Mr. Undershell! I'm sure you can be
as comical as any play-actor when you choose!
_Undershell._ I really don't know how I can have given you that
impression. If you expect me to treat my lyre like a _horse-collar_,
and grin through it, I'm afraid I am unable to gratify you.
_Steptoe_ (_at sea_). Capital, sir, the professional allusion very
neat. You'll come out presently, _I_ can see, when supper's on the
table. Can't expect you to rattle till you've something _inside_ of
you, can we?
_Miss Stickler._ Reelly, Mr. Steptoe, I _am_ surprised at such
commonness from _you_!
_Steptoe._ Now you're too severe, Miss Stickler, you are indeed. An
innocent little Judy Mow like that!
_Tredwell_ (_outside_). Don't answer _me_, sir. Ham I butler 'ere, or
ham I _not_? I've a precious good mind to report you for such a
hignorant blunder.... I don't want to hear another word about the
gentleman's cloes--you'd no hearthly business for to do such a thing
at all! (_He enters and flings himself down on a chair._) That Thomas
is beyond everything--stoopid _hass_ as he is!
_Mrs. Pomfret_ (_concerned_). La, Mr. Tredwell, you _do_ seem put out!
Whatever have Thomas been doing _now_?
_Undershell_ (_to himself_). It's really very good of him to take it
to heart like this! (_Aloud._) Pray don't let it distress you; it's of
no consequence, none at all!
_Tredwell_ (_glaring_). I'm the best judge of that, Mr. Undershell,
sir--if you'll allow _me_; _I_ don't call my porogatives of no
consequence, whatever _you_ may! And that feller Thomas, Mrs.
Pomfret, actially 'ad the hordacity, without consulting me previous,
to go and 'and a note to one of our gentlemen at the hupstairs table,
all about some hassinine mistake he'd made with his cloes! What call
had he to take it upon himself? I feel puffecly disgraced that such a
thing should have occurred under my authority!
[_The_ Steward's Room Boy _has entered with a dish, and
listens with secret anxiety on his own account_.
_Undershell._ I assure you there is no harm done. The gentleman is
wearing my evening clothes--but he's going to return them----
[_The conclusion of the sentence is drowned in a roar of
laughter from the majority._
_Tredwell_ (_gasping_). Hevenin' cloes! _Your_ hevenin'---- P'raps
you'll 'ave the goodness to explain yourself, sir!
_Steptoe._ No, no, Tredwell, my dear fellah, you don't understand our
friend here--he's a bit of a wag, don't you see? He's only trying to
pull your leg, that's all; and, Gad, he did it too! But you mustn't
take liberties with _this_ gentleman, Mr. Undershell; he's an
important personage _here_, I can tell you!
_Undershell_ (_earnestly_). But I never meant--if you'll only let me
explain----
[_The_ Boy _has come behind him, and administers a
surreptitious kick, which_ UNDERSHELL _rightly construes
as a hint to hold his tongue_.
_Tredwell_ (_in solemn offence_). I'm accustomed, Mr. Hundershell, to
be treated in this room with respect and deference--especially by them
as come here in the capacity of guests. _From_ such I regard any
attempt to pull my leg as in hindifferent taste--to say the least of
it. I wish to 'ave no more words on the subjick, which is a painful
one, and had better be dropped, for the sake of all parties. Mrs.
Pomfret, I see supper is on the table, so, by your leave, we had
better set down to it.
_Phillipson_ (_to_ UNDERSHELL). Never mind _him_, pompous old thing!
It _was_ awfully cheeky of you, though. You can sit next _me_ if you
like.
_Undershell_ (_to himself, as he avails himself of this permission_).
I shall only make things worse if I explain now. But, oh, great
Heavens, _what_ a position for a poet!