Scene: _Morning room in a handsome flat--a showily furnished
room--rather ostentatious and loud in its decoration and appointments.
Large table in bay window r.upper corner. Fire-place r.Doors at back
l.c. and two in l. wing. Small tables r.and L.. Easy chairs l. and R._
_Breakfast is laid on large table--it is a gorgeously laid meal--silver
and plate in profusion, and a great number of dishes--tea urn and coffee
urn--a boiling kettle--flowers and ferns in vases and stands. One, a
large wavy one, is at left edge of table close to Allen. The table in
short is crowded and showy to the last degree. A magnificent footman in
gorgeous livery is standing behind; and Mr. Piffin in solemn black waits
close to Allen’s chair, a dish in his hand. Allen is discovered sitting
l. of table, and eating his breakfast in a most melancholy fashion. He
looks intensely miserable and awed. The terrible solemnity of the
whole affair has depressed his spirits to their lowest ebb. He glances
nervously now and then as the meal proceeds, from the footman to the
valet, and vice versa, as they silently and with much ceremony walk
about and wait on him. The fern by his side keeps getting in his
way, tickling and irritating him, but he dare not move it. He eats
in silence, and when he does speak, does so in a humble, deprecating,
nervous manner. He is dressed in a loose morning costume. Music to open
Act._
Piff. (_Standing by Allen’s l. elbow c. Peters r. of table R._) May I
get you a little pâté de foie gras, sir?
Allen. (_Looking round, and speaking in a hushed voice._) I beg pardon?
Piff. A little pâté de foie gras, sir.
Allen. Patty who?
Piff. Goose’s liver, sir. I think you will like it.
Allen. No, thanks; I never eats liver. It don’t agree with me. I will
have a bit o’ the bacon though.
Piff. No, sir; it is not dressed that way, sir. I would get used to it
if I were you, sir. You will so often come across it. Peters, just pass
your master the pâté de foie gras.
(_Peters goes to do so. Allen who has turned again towards his breakfast
is about to take up some gravy from his plate with his knife_).
Piff. (_Checks him._) I wouldn’t lap up the gravy with my knife, sir. I
don’t think. It’s never done now in good society, sir.
Allen. It--it’s the best part of it, you know, I alius thinks--the gravy
Piff. Yes, it’s very tasty, sir. It’s unfortunate it’s so sloppy; and
you see, sir, eating it in that way does not show off the figure to
advantage. Peters, remove your master’s plate.
(_Peters does so, placing it a few feet beyond Allen’s left hand. Allen
watches it with jealous eyes. Peters then holds the pâté de foie gras to
Allen. He slowly runs his eye up Peters with awe, and then looks at the
pâté de foie gras, then using one hand attempts to take it. Peters,
not moving a muscle, holds it tight. Allen seems surprised, and partly
rising, attempts to take it with both hands._)
Piff. (_Coming to his rescue, cutting a piece, and putting it on his
plate._) Allow me, sir. Peters, the brown bread and butter.
Pet. (_Looking for it._) It is not on the table, sir.
Piff. No brown bread and butter; dear me, how remiss!
(_Crosses l. and rings bell. Peters also crosses l.c. door, Allen looks
cautiously round and sees they are not watching him, and stealthily
reaches over and secures a knifeful of gravy. He is about having a
second and has the knife close to his mouth, when he becomes aware that
Piff has returned and is watching him. He tries to hide the knife out
of sight. Peters has returned with bread and butter._)
Piff. (_Severely._) Peters, remove your master’s knife. Don’t you see
that it is in his way?
(_Peters does so, and then holds the bread and butter to Allen, who
takes a thin slice, folds it up, and holds it in his left hand while
taking the pâté on a fork in his right. He puts first the pâté and then
the bread and butter into his mouth and swallows them._)
Piff. I must apologize for serving you your breakfast in here, sir. Of
course, you will not have it in the drawing-room as a rule.
Allen. No, a’ coorse not. No; us alius used to have it in the kitchen at
home.
Piff. Yes, sir. Must have been very convenient. But I think I’ll get
you to put up with the breakfast parlour in future, sir--when the room’s
ready. Have you quite finished, sir?
Allen. (_Humbly suggesting._) I think I’d like a little more o’ that
pie. (_Looking longingly at pie the other side of table._) You see, I
alius wur a hearty eater. (_Said as apology_).
Piff. Yes, sir, I’m delighted to hear it, sir; but I wouldn’t eat any
more breakfast, sir. You will find it is considered correct among _bons
vivants_ to eat a very sparse dejeuner. My late lamented master, the
Count de Fizziani, never partook of anything but a cup of weak tea and a
little dry toast, and he was one of the oldest families in Europe.
(_Allen rises, Peters bows as he does so, and Allen returns the bow and
comes dozen R._)
Allen. Ah, I shouldn’t ’a’ thought as anyone could ‘a’ lived long on
that. (_He bows_).
Piff. No necessity to bow, sir.
Allen. He did it. (_Indicating Peters_).
Piff. He’s paid for it.
Allen. I allus seem to want a good feed myself in the morning. (_Takes
out an old clay pipe and prepares to fill it. Goes down r. and sits in
chair. Peters is clearing away the breakfast things_).
Piff. Are you thinking of smoking, sir?
Allen. Yes; I allus has a whiff or two arter breakfast.
Piff. It’s very soothing, sir. My late lamented master, the Count de
Fizziani, used to follow precisely the same course. But I wouldn’t smoke
a pipe, sir. Pipes are going out in good society. (_Takes cigarette case
from pocket and offers it to Allen. Takes pipe from Allen and puts it on
corner of table R.c._) I have some cigarettes here, sir, which I think
you will like, sir. These are much more _comme il faut_, sir. This case
is a present from my late lamented master, the Count.
(_Allen looks at them and gingerly takes one._)
Allen. Which end?
Piff. (_Lighting match._) Either end, sir. Allow me. (_Showing
matchbox._) Another little souvenir from my late master. He was always
acknowledging, if I may say so, my value to him. That sort of thing
is always done in good society now. (_Lights cigarette._) It is a full
flavored one, sir. (_Piffin takes Allen’s pipe from table r.c., crossing
with it to window r._)
Allen. (_Watching him, anxiously._) Don’t hurt him.
Piff. (_Turning round._) I was just going to put it outside on the
window-sill, sir.
Allen. No, don’t put him there. We used to sit up together of a night
watching the sheep. I don’t like the thought of putting him outside the
window, now I’m a gentleman. Drop him in the pocket of that old shooting
coat o’ mine that thee won’t let me wear. They know each other. (_Sits
r.and smokes his cigarette. Piff. puts the pipe on table and returns
r.c._)
Piff. (_Noticing that Allen is looking at his cigarette._) All right,
sir? (_r._)
Allen. Yes--yes, thank you, Mr. Puffin--
Piff. Piffin, sir.
Allen. I wur looking to see if it wur alight, that’s all.
Piff. You will soon get to like them, sir. And whenever you are ready to
dress, sir--
Allen. (_Surprised._) Dress? Why, I be dressed, bain’t I?
Piff. Oh, only for breakfast, you see, sir. I understood you were going
out walking, sir.
Allen. Why can’t I walk in these?
Piff. Oh, no, sir--all London would laugh at you.
Allen. Lord! I should never a’ thought as they’d take so much notice.
(_Rising. Piff. crosses to l. near down stage door._) Ah, well, I’ll
dress. (_Crossing l._) I don’t want to upset London if I can help it.
I’ll dress. (_Exit l. Bows to Piffin as Piffin does so to him_).
Piff. No necessity to bow, sir. (_Aside._) Ah, I’ve got a big job on
here!
(_Exit Piffin, following Allen l. Piffin immediately returns, having
forgotten the pipe, which he takes. He is recrossing l. as enter Dexter
and Clara, c., preceded by Peters, who takes tray from table R.c. and
exits up L._)
And I’ve got to live in the house with this.
(_Dexter goes c., Clara r. at back._)
Dex. (_Coming down._) Good-morning, Piffin, goodmorning. Having a quiet
whiff?
Piff. Thank you, sir. My stomach does not permit my indulging in the
luxury of a cutty pipe.
Dex. Is Mr. Rollitt about?
Piff. He has just this minute gone upstairs to dress, sir. I will let
him know you are here, sir.
Dex. No hurry--no hurry at all, Piffin. We are before our time. You are
not looking well, Piffin.
Piff. Anxiety, sir. May be anxiety. You see Mr. Rollitt’s unacquaintance
with the manners of the _beaux esprits_ throws much responsibility on
myself.
Dex. But you must be careful, Piffin. What would he do without you?
Piff. (_Smiling._) Well, I’m afraid he would be a little up a tree, sir,
if I may be permitted a vulgarism. (_Moving to door l._) I will go and
acquaint him with your arrival, sir. (_Takes plate from table l., puts
pipe on it._) I’ll send him to you directly, sir. (_Smells pipe._) Shag!
(_Exit l.l._)
Dex. Thank you, Mr. Piffin, thank you. (_Turning round._) Always be
affable with your inferiors--never know when you may want ‘em.
Clara. (_By window, looking out._) Do you come across many of that sort?
(_Comes down r. of table R._)
Dex. Ah, you beast--you vixen. I wonder you don’t cut yourself with that
tongue of yours.
Clara. (_Turning round with a hard laugh. At fireplace R._) It must be
pretty sharp if it goes through your skin.
Dex. Ah, you damned--
(_Enter Allen l. He has on slippers and a smoking coat_).
Allen. (_Crossing._) Don’t ’ee look at us too closely. I bean’t
properly dressed yet.
Clara. (_r.c. turns head away._) I don’t think we had better look at you
at all under those circumstances, Mr. Rollitt. (_Laughs._)
Allen. (_Laughs._) Oh, I be covered up all right everywhere. I merely
meant as I wasn’t up to fashion plate standard. (_Crossing c._) And how
be Colonel Dexter? (_Shaking hands._)
Dex. (_l._) Jolly, my boy--and how’s yourself?
Allen, (_c._) Oh, I be spry enough. (_Crossing before him and shaking
hands with Clara, and keeping her hand._) I think us’ll have a pleasant
day.
Clara, (_r. looking tenderly at him._) I’m sure we shall. (_Crosses to
sofa, stands at head of it._)
Dex. Well, you young folks will, I know, and the old folks will be happy
looking on. (_Sitting, and taking Clara’s hand in his and fondling it.
Allen crosses r._) To see his little girl happy, that’s always happiness
enough for old Jack Dexter.
Clara. (_Leaning over and kissing the top of his hand._) Silly old dad.
Dex. (_Taking out his handkerchief and pretending to weep._) Ah, like
her mother--like her mother.
Allen, (_r. c., laughs nervously._) Her--her mother must ha’ been rare
beautiful, mustn’t her?
Dex. (_c. rising and taking Allen by the hand._) Thank you,--ah, Mr.
Rollitt, you have never known the blessing of a wife--(_Clara looks at
him_)--you do not understand the feelings of a widower. (_Weeping._)
Allen. No--but--(_laughing_)--but--I hopes to one day; no--no--I don’t
mean that--I--(_confused_)--Have thee had breakfast? (_Clara sits on the
soft L._)
Dex. Yes, thank you, Allen, my boy.
Allen. (_Cheerfully._) Have another.
Dex. No thanks, not to-day.
Allen. What’s the matter? Off thee feed?
Dex. No, my lad, but we old folks ain’t like you young country
ones--nothing at present thank you--(_pauses_)--to eat.
Allen. Have summat to drink. (_Clara crosses l. Both men laugh, each in
his own distinctive way. Dex. turns l. and catches Clara’s face._)
There be some rare old whiskey in the library. Thee’ll find it on the
sideboard--(_Dex. goes up c._)--and it be more comfortable like in there
than here. I’ll just go and finish making myself beautiful. (_Crosses to
l._)
Clara. Don’t be too long. (_Crossing and sitting L.c._)
Allen. (_Laughing._) No, it oughtn’t to take me long to--(_Dex. has his
back to them, wine business at table r.c._)--do that, ought it? (_Goes
to l. door down stage. Laughs, and then low to Clara as he is going._) I
am not likely to stop upstairs long when I know thee’s downstairs.
Clara. Go away, go away.
(_Exit Allen down stage l. Bus. She kisses her hand._)
Dex. And I suppose you will go and throw this chance away, like you have
every other.
Clara. Well, what if I do? (_Rises, crosses it._)
Dex. What if you do? What are we to live on? (_Goes to Clara l._)
Clara. Gulls, I suppose--as we always have done.
Dex. Yes, and is it pleasant living? Is it pleasant to have to slave
and trick for every dinner? Is it pleasant to be kicked--sooner or
later--out of every society one goes into? (_Coming close and speaking
low._) Was it pleasant to be buried for two years in that God-forsaken
hole by Exmoor, not daring to show our heads above ground for a moment?
You’ve got a fine chance of being respectable now.
Clara. Too late, I’m afraid, though.
Dex. (_r. c._) Too late?
Clara. Yes--you see, papa, dear, you haven’t exactly brought me up
in that way, and I’m afraid I’m too old to learn now. I don’t think I
should be quite at home as the wife of a piously brought up young man
from the country. (_Leans back--laughs._)
Dex. And so you’re going to let six thousand a year slip through your
fingers. It’s wicked--it’s wicked.
Clara. (_Laughs--rises._) Well, it hasn’t slipped through my fingers
just at present, it is sticking to them pretty freely. (_Crosses to
R.--Dex is c.--toys with ring._)
Dex. (_Goes to table r.c._) And how long do you think he will stand you
playing with him?
Clara. Oh, a good long while yet. (_Goes up._)
Dex. (_Puts hat on table r.c._) That’s just where you’re making a
mistake then. He’s not a fool. He’ll want an answer, “Yes,” or “No,”
soon, and what are you going to say then?
Clara. (_Looking out of window._) No. (_Looking into fireplace r._)
Dex. (_After a pause--violently._) Luke Cranbourne’s at the bottom
of this. What devil’s game is it that’s going on between you and him?
(_Loudly._)
Clara. I do wish you wouldn’t drink when you’re coming out anywhere, it
always makes you so noisy. (_At glass._)
Dex. (_Violently._) Take care, Clara--you seem to forget I’m your
father.
Clara. (_Coldly._) The relationship was none of my seeking.
Whatever responsibility attaches to the unfortunate--(_moves near
Dex._)--occurrence is not mine.
Dex. (_l. making movement as if to strike her._) Clara.
Clara. (_Facing him with quiet contempt--a pause._) Put down your hands,
father. That period of my life is over. (_Crosses. Dex. steps back, then
throws himself into chair, leans his head on his arms, and bursts into
tears r.c._)
Dex. (_Crying._) My own child hates me.
Clara. (_Crossing and laying a hand on his shoulder gently._) I don’t
mean to be hard, father, but you can’t expect much love and duty from
me. Curses and blows were all you ever gave me as a child, and ever
since I became a woman you have merely hawked me about as your decoy.
Dex. (_ Whimpering._) I only want you to do what’s for your own good.
Clara. (_Turns away L._) Yes, but you must allow me to be the judge of
that--and come--you haven’t had much cause to grumble up to now. You’ve
been able to be drunk every night for the last three months.
Dex. (_Rises c._) I ain’t been drunk. (_Takes hat off table r. c._)
Clara. Not for you perhaps--(_goes l. a little_)--drunk in the ordinary
sense of the word--and I will get you something to-day if I can.
Dex. (_Drying his eyes._) God bless you, Clara, you’re a good girl. Do
you think you’ll be able to get a twenty?
Clara. You must leave it to me. I’ll get you as much as I can.
Allen. (_Off l._) Thank you, Mr. Puffin.
Piff. (_Off l._) Piffin, Piffin, sir.
Clara. (_Moving away towards door--upper l._) Come into the next room
now. Here’s Allen coming back.
Dex. (_As he follows her out._) Say you want to help a poor woman who’s
very ill, and has been ordered nourishing food and--(_gags._)
(_Exeunt Clara and Dex. upper l._)
(_Enter Allen and Piff. l. Allen is completely dressed in the height of
walking costume, and is evidently very uncomfortable. Enter Peters c.
Pet. puts photo case on table r. c. Exits down c. Allen has on hat and
coat, and Piff. is carrying his umbrella and gloves. Allen should be got
up in a slightly exaggerated masher style. He is smoking a cigarette._)
Allen. I carn’t breathe, Mr. Puffin.
Piff. Oh, you will soon get used to that, sir. And would you please to
remember my name is Piffin, sir? (_Taking his hand._) Why, surely these
are nines, sir, I think we could get them down to eight and a half, and
if I were you, sir, I would show a little more cuff, sir, it’s always
done in good society, sir; besides, it makes the hand look smaller; a
little cuff, sir, goes a long way in good society.
Allen. Thank you, Mr. Piffin. (_Shakes his hand._)
Piff. Thank you, sir, but I don’t think you ought to shake hands with
me, sir. And when you do shake hands with your friends, sir--allow me
(_takes Allen’s hand_) shake high, sir. (_Shakes his hand high._) You’ll
see it’s always done in good society, sir. Lord Carmichael’s man told me
he met you yesterday, sir.
Allen. I--I don’t know him, do I?
Piff. Oh, no, sir, but he knows you, sir, and he was rather complaining
of your walk, sir?
Allen. Why, what’s it got to do with him?
Piff. Well, sir, knowing as I’m your coach, sir, he meant it as a
friendly hint. You have rather a countrified walk, if you will forgive
me for saying so--a more _négligé_ style is adopted by the _savoir
vivre_ now, sir, and a more _insouciant_ manner of carrying the
umbrella. You walk too much in this way, sir. (_Taking up umbrella,
gags, and imitates._)
Allen. Lord love us, do I walk like that?
Piff. Just like that, sir. You see yourself, sir, what a very
_undestingué_ appearance it presents. The present fashionable style is
more like this, sir. (_Performing an exaggerated Piccadilly dawdle._)
See, sir--body a little forward--knees stiff--and a slight wobble,
sir--very slight. (_Handing Allen the umbrella._) Perhaps, sir, you
would take the umbrella and try it, sir.
(_Allen attempts the business._)
Piff. (_Criticising Allen’s practice. Allen crosses to R._) A little
more bend, sir--a little wobble, sir--umbrella held lightly between
the first and second fingers, sir, (_Allen goes l._) and if you could
manage--allow me, sir--. (_takes umbrella, shows him, and returns it_)
to swing it right round now and then, sir, it adds great _aplomb_.
Allen. Great what?
Piff. French, sir.
Allen. (_Swings umbrella round awkwardly._) Like that?
Piff. Not quite like that, sir. A little more airily, sir.
Allen. (_Swinging it._) Does it ever put anybody’s eye out behind?
Piff. I don’t think that point is considered of much importance in good
society, sir--that is much better, sir. (_Goes r.Allen l._) If you
would practice like that a little every day, sir, you would soon pick it
up, sir. A little more bend, sir, and--er--don’t forget the wobble.
(_Exit l. down stage._)
(_Allen goes on practicing to himself, making as much fun as possible,
consistent with comedy, out of the bus. As he is in the middle of it,
enter Mrs. R.and Deb. door c., the door being opened for them by Peters.
They stand c. staring aghast at Allen, who continues, unconscious of
their presence._)
Allen. (_Gags._) Soon pick it up! Strikes me someone’ll have to pick me
up. It puts me in mind of one of our old turkey cocks.
(_Mrs. R. and Deb. come down stage a little._)
Allen. (_Bus. in r. corner of stage. Peters withdraws, grinning._)
Deb. (_After a long pause, clapping her hands._) I know what it is,
aunt. It’s our Allen.
Allen. (_Seeing them._) Mother! (_Comes down r.c. Deb. l. c._)
Mrs. R. My boy! (_They rush into each other’s arms c. and Mrs. R. gives
him a huge hug--gets r.of Allen, Deb. l. Then he and Deb. have an
embrace, and then he and Mrs. R. for the second time._)
Allen. (_In the middle of Mrs. R. second hug._) Hold hard!
Mrs. R. (_Alarmed._) What’s the matter, lad?
Allen. Summat’s gone.
Mrs. R. What?
Allen. I don’t know; summat behind. (_Drawing back r. and looking down
at himself._) Mother, you’ve spoilt me.
Mrs. R. Ah, they used to tell me I allus did that, lad. (_Laughs._)
Deb. (_After gazing in silent admiration at Allen._) Oh, aunt, isn’t it
lovely? Look at its hat!
Mrs. R. (_Critically examining his clothes._) Ah--and there’s some good
stuff there, too. (_Moving away._)
Deb. (_Going near and sniffing._) Oh, oh! Doesn’t it smell
nice--and--oh, look at its collar! (_Allen pleased--begins to plume
himself--Deb. begins to laugh._)
Allen. What’s the matter with the collar--what are you laughing at?
(_Trying to look at his own collar. Debt’s laugh only grows, and Allen’s
indignation begins to rise._)
Allen. What’s the matter--what are you laughing at? (_Deb. laughing more
and more, goes to walk round him. Turning round, so as to face her--his
collar prevents him turning his head, and he has to walk round._) What
are you up to?
Deb. I want to see it all round.
Allen. (_Very indignantly._) Well then, you can’t do it. I ain’t a show.
What are you laughing at? There’s nothing to laugh at. (_Mrs. R. laughs
first time._) It’s your ignorance, because you don’t understand things.
What are you laughing at?
(_Mrs. R., who has hitherto sat R. looking on, now also begins to laugh,
and she and Deb. go on laughing more and more, Allen growing more and
more indignant._)
Allen. I am surprised at you, mother. Deb. allus was a--(_the two women
only laugh louder, and Allen in spite of himself begins to laugh too;
afterwards he joins in heartily and all three laugh, after which they
have another hug. Bus._)
Mrs. R. (_Exhausted._) Well, lad, and how dost thee like being a
gentleman? (_Sits r., Deb. sits l._)
Allen, (_c. doubtfully._) Well, it’s got its drawbacks, mother. There’s
more work about it than you’d think for, you know,--but I think I shall
be all right, I’ve got a good man learning me. He wur teaching me to
walk this morning. That wus the Park stroll I wur practicing when you
come in; see, mother? (_Imitates stroll._)
Mrs. R. Ah, well, us made a good man of ’ee down in Devon. I hopes
they don’t spoil ’ee, lad, in turning thee into a gentleman.
Allen. Ah, no, mother. It’s only a polishing up the outside. I’m old
Exmoor oak--(_puts his hat and umbrella on table r. c._)--I hope, right
through, and they can’t hurt that. When did ’ee come up? (_Sits r.
c._)
Mrs. R. Only yesterday, and us went to Mrs. Clouter’s and slept, and
then us come on here this morning.
Allen. And how long can you stop?
Mrs. R. Well, us must start off to-morrow, some time.
Allen. To-morrow! Oh, nonsense, mother.
Mrs. R. Nonsense! Why, bless the lad, thee wouldn’t have me away on
Saturday. Why, who’d pay the wages, and see to everything?
Allen. Why, there’s Rogers there, ain’t there?
Mrs. R. Ah, why thee might just as well leave the key of the stable in
charge o’ the old bay mare, as trust him to look arter anything, except
his own inside.
Allen. (_After a pause._) Mother! (_Rises, goes to Mrs. R. r._) What do
ye want to go back at all for, and work and worry yourself to death? Let
me take a little house up here in London for thee and Deb, and then we
can all be together.
Mrs. R. (_Aghast._) And leave the farm?
Deb. (_Turning round._) Oh, Allen!
Allen. Why not? You’ve worked hard enough, mother--give the farm up and
enjoy yourself.
Mrs. R. Enjoy myself! Away from Woodbarrow
Farm! Why, lad, thy father wur born there and brought me home there--and
he died there, and thee wur born there--and there be the pigs and the
poultry! (_Begins to cry._)
Allen. (_Tenderly patting her._) All right, mother, all right. Us’ll
keep it on.
Mrs. R. (_Wiping her eyes._) And thee might want to come back to it
theeself some day, lad.
Allen. (_Laughing._) Why, thee don’t think I’m going to run through two
hundred thousand, do ye, mother? We Devonshire lads win fortunes, not
lose ‘em. (_Crossing c._)
Mrs. R. Ah, no, lad. But thee knows the saying “Roses blossom for a day,
But stout old ivy’s green al-way.” Thee ain’t likely to lose the money,
if thee can help it, lad, but us all be in God’s hands, and I’ll be
easier in my mind if the farm’s there for thee to come home to. If
anything happens, thee knows the way across the Moor, and thee knows how
the latch goes, and me and the lass will be inside to welcome thee.
Allen. (_Goes l. takes Deb.’s hand._) Ah, I know you will, mother, both
of you.
Mrs. R. (_Music--piano._) Leastways I shall--and the lass until her gets
married, I suppose. (_Deb. goes up a little; gets r._)
Allen. (_Surprised._) Until her gets married? (_Deb. goes to Mrs. R. r.;
tries to stop her speaking._)
Mrs. R. (_Sharply._) Ah, the lads ain’t all fools.
Allen. (_Evidently troubled._) I never seemed to think o’ Deb’s getting
married, somehow.
Mrs. R. Well, other folks have.
Allen. I can’t fancy the old farm wi’out Deb. Lord, how lonesome it
would be.
Deb. (_Who has been trying to stop Mrs. R., has come down and stands by
her aunt, l._) Oh, it’s only aunt’s fun. (_Goes to Allen, l. c._) I’m
not going to get married. Sure the pigs and cows are worrit enough wi’
their foolish ways. I don’t want any husband.
Allen. Ah, thee will some day, o’ course, and when thee does we must
make thee comfortable, lass. (_Taking her hand._) Thee shalt ha’ the
best farm in all the country, and the best dairy, and the best stock.
Deb. (_Little c._) Thank thee, Allen dear. (_Turns up stage._)
Mrs. R. (_Rising; music dies away._) Well, lass, I suppose us had better
have a clean down and summat to eat, and then see about our bit o’
shopping.
Allen. Lord help us! (_Starting._) If I ain’t forgot all about ‘em.
Mrs. R. All about whom?
Allen. Why, Clara--Miss Dexter and her father--they be in the library
waiting for me.
Deb. Oh, don’t let us keep you from them. (_A little spitefully._)
Allen. Oh, I shan’t go out this morning, now. (_Gets hat and umbrella
from table r.c._) I shall get them to stop here instead, and us can
have a nice quiet day all together. (_Going towards door, lower l._)
Come on, mother. (_Crosses to c._) I’ve got a room fitted up a’purpose
for thee and Deb, with a roost just outside the window with a cock and
three hens in it, and he crows all night.
(_Exeunt Allen, Deb., and Mrs. R. down stage._)
(_Enter Baron von Schorr (1) and the Hon. Tom. Gus-sett (2), ushered in
by Peters c. (3). Enter Luke c., and Dexter u. l. (4), afterwards Clara
(5.) Baron goes down l., Gussett r., Luke r. c., Dexter l. c._)
Dex. (_l._) Rollitt’s going out. You can’t see him. It’s no good your
coming here to try and fleece him this morning. I tell you he’s going
out.
Luke. (_Coming down r.c._) Ah, we’ll wait and say good-bye to him,
Jack.
Baron. (_l. c._) Ah, greedy Jack,--greedy Jack--you want de bird all
to yourself. Nein--nein, zhare and zhare alike. Herr Cranbourne have a
ving, Tom Gussett, he have de oder ving. You and your fair daughter have
de legs, and I vill have de breast.
Clara. No, you shall have the bones after we’ve done with them. Make
’em into a stew--keep a German baron for a week. (_Others laugh._)
Baron. Ah, Trickey, you here. (_Motioning towards Clara and her
father._) Ah, de early birds--de early birds.
Clara. Yes, we have to be. (_Rises, and goes r.imitating him._) De
worms get up so early nowadays. (_Enter Allen lower l. Baron goes to
meet him. Guss. puts him away and he turns up c. Speaks to Dex._)
Allen. Hullo! Unexpected pleasure!
(_Luke comes forward and greets Allen c._)
Guss. (_r._) Haven’t seen you for an age, dear boy.
Allen. No. (_Goes to Luke r._) I’ve been keeping pretty respectable of
late--I--I mean, you know, I haven’t been going out much.
Luke, (_l._) Tom and I are going over to Paris for the Vincennes
meeting, and we’ve come to see if you will join.
Guss. (_l. of Allen r._) Yes, do come; then we can show you about Paris
a bit, you know.
Luke. Ah, yes, and we shall be able to get you into one or two things
in the betting line if you are with us. We can introduce you to some
friends of ours.
Allen. Ah, it be very kind of thee, I’m sure.
(_They go on talking r._)
Baron. (_Aside to the Dexters, back of Clara._) I say, Jack, my boy, how
long have you been Colonel? I did not know you vas a militaire.
Clara. Papa joined the Salvation Army about the same time that you were
raised to the German Peerage. Don’t talk so loud, my dear Baron.
Baron. Gut, gut.
(_Luke sits down stage r. with back to audience, looking at betting
book._)
Guss. (_To Allen r._) Of course we shall take care of your interests as
if it was for ourselves.
Baron. (_Comes and puts arm in Allen’s._) Of course they vill take care
ob your interests for themselves. Come here. (_Goes l._) You know I have
been tinking about you so much ob late. Ja!
Allen. Ah, very kind of thee, I’m sure.
Baron, (_l._) Ja, I say to myself, my fren Rollitt--I always call you my
fren--my fren Rollitt, I say, he is a gut fellow--he has money--all
he vants is family. (_Guss. goes to Dex. l. c._) He must marry family.
(_Dex. goes c. and tries to hear conversation--Baron notices it and
crosses to r.with Allen._) Now, Miss Dexter, she is a nice girl--ach,
such a nice girl--but she has no family.
Allen. No--not yet. (_Luke gets near fireplace R._)
Baron, (_r. Seeing it after a while._) Ah, nein, nein--I do not mean vat
you mean--I mean family de oder vay--backvards--dead uns.
Allen. Oh!
Baron. Ja. Now, dere is my niece, look at her family! Look at her
ancestors--all barons--German barons! And she is such a nice girl--so
beaudiful--so plump--ach, I will indroduce her to you. She vill mash
you--so much. She--
(_Enter Mrs. R., Deb. behind her, lower l. door. Seeing the room full
she stands by door hesitatingly._)
Guss. (_Coming down and interrupting, with a sneering laugh._) Your
nurse, Rollitt, I think. (_Comes c. Luke goes to fireplace R._)
Allen. (_Turns and sees them, and then goes towards them._) Yes, Mr.
Gussett--the best nurse a man can have--my mother.
(_Guss. confused, but soon recovers himself and laughs it off. Col. D.,
Luke, and Clara come forward to greet Mrs. R. and Deb. l. c., and the
customary ceremony, etc., is gone through--all speaking together._)
Clara. (_Smiling pleasantly, shakes hands with Mrs. R._) Good-morning,
Mrs. Rollitt. You are looking so well and jolly. How are you, my dear?
(_To Deb. Between these two the greeting is really strained and awkward,
although outwardly pleasant enough. Clara kisses Deb., but Deb. seems
to shrink--she turns away. Clara notices this, and follows Deb. as she
turns away up c., with a meaning look. While it has been going on the
greeting between Mrs. R. and Luke has taken place--Mrs. R. down l._)
Allen. (_Finishing his introduction of Mrs. R. and Baron._) The Baron
von Schnorr--Mrs. Rollitt, my mother.
Baron. Your mudder--Oh, impossible. (_Goes l. c._)
Mrs. R. (_Huffy._) I beg your pardon, Mr. Snort.
Baron. Ach, ja, you are laughing at me--not your mudder.
(_Clara walks round at back, drops down r. near Luke._)
Mrs. R. (_Very indignant._) Yes--his mother. Don’t you cast any of your
nasty foreign insinuations upon me. I’m his lawful married mother, and
his father was his father, and a better man never lived, as anyone in
Exmoor--
Allen. (_Soothing her._) It’s all right, mother, the Baron only means
it complimentary. Thee’st supposed to look too young to be anybody’s
mother. He has to take (_Clara sits r._) thee for my sister.
(_Laughing--goes up l. c. with Dex._)
Baron. Ja--I take you for his sister. Ach, you English ladies, you never
seem to get more old--you only get more round, more--more jolly.
Mrs. R. (_Still indignant._) Ah--foolishness. (_Ruffling her dress and
sitting very stiff l. on sofa._)
Baron. (_Sitting on sofa beside her._) It must be de climate keep you
so moist. (_Drawing closer._) I knew a man, he lives in your Manchester,
and--(_goes on talking to Mrs. R. but is not heard._)
(_Allen goes up and joins Col. Dex. up l. c. and Clara. After a little
while Col. Dex. appropriates him, leaving Clara a little to r.of them
unnoticed. Guss. continues talking to Deb. Deb. evidently bored and
anxious to get away. Guss. trying to be very agreeable. At this point
when all the others are occupied, Luke r. beckons Clara to him and she
crosses. Their conversation is in eager undertone and they watch to see
that no one is noticing them._)
Luke. Have you got him to join yet?
Clara. No--he kicks against it.
Luke. If his name isn’t down in the list of directors before Monday I
shall be arrested.
Clara. Can’t you get away?
Luke. No, I’m watched night and day. If he joins, the company will float
and it will be all right.
Clara. I shall be seeing him alone this morning. I will try again.
Luke. And keep to plain gold and diamonds for presents. Those fallal
things (_touching her bracelet_) are no good. Don’t fetch ten per cent,
of their value.
Deb. (_Part of the conversation between herself and Guss. Abstractedly,
her attention being fixed on Luke and Clara._) Ha, ha! that was very
funny.
(_Guss. r. with Deb. looks at her in amazement._)
Luke. (_Down r._) There’s that milkmaid watching us--don’t look around,
answer as though I had been proposing to you--that will account for our
talking together. (_In a louder but still undertone._) Is there no hope
for me?
Clara. (_Down r.--smiling._) None, Luke--please don’t refer to the
subject again. I like you--respect you--will be a sister to you--but
love--
Luke. (_Grinning._) Yes, it’s that Rollitt that you love. (_Deb.,
followed by Guss., has moved away to window._)
Clara. Mr. Cranbourne, you have no right--
Luke. (_Who has been watching Deb._) Chuck it up, it’s all right, she’s
gone to the window.
Clara. I don’t suppose we’ve deceived her very much, she’s a sharp
little minx. Get these men away.
(_Clara takes up book, and standing, toys with it up r. front of r.c.
table._)
Baron. (_Finishing._) She never leave her bed for eighteen years--she
take dree dozes--den she get up and go for a dree mile walk.
Mrs. R. (_Rising._) Lor! It must have been quite a change for her.
Baron. (_Rising._) Ja. It vas a miragle. (_Turning and seeing Luke
beside him._) Ha, my dear boy, ready?
Luke. (_Crosses to Baron._) Ready and off.
Allen. (_Coming down c. followed by Dex._) Oh, are you three going?
(_Baron goes c._)
Luke. Yes, I know you’ll be glad to be rid of us. (_Laughing._)
Allen. Well, I have (_looking at watch_) one or two little things to do
this morning.
(_Baron goes up c._)
Dex. Well, look here, Allen, I’m just going to have a quiet weed in the
smoking room till you’re ready. See?
Allen. Oh, it be a billiard room now, thee know.
Luke. Oh. have you had a table put up?
Clara. (_Who has just crossed over and joined the group l. to Mrs. R.
who is just about quitting the room by door l. lower._) Do you allow
your little boy to play billiards, Mrs. Rollitt? I don’t think I should
if I had charge of him. (_Playfully._)
Mrs. R. Oh, the more he’s up to every sort o’ game that’s played the
better for him, to my thinking.
(_Exit Mrs. R. l._)
Allen. (_Laughing._) Oh, it keeps me at home out of mischief, like.
(_Moves to upper door L._) Come and have a look at it. (_Goes up c._)
Baron. (_As they go._) Ach, billiards iz a beaudiful game. (_Aside to
Luke._) But you cannot vin much at id, id take so dam long.
(_Exeunt all but Guss. and Deb. [l.]--all talking as they go. Guss. and
Deb. near fireplace._)
Deb. (_r._) Well, I’m afraid, Mr. Gussett, I must really go now. (_Goes
down stage. Guss. goes l. c. and stops her._)
Guss. (_Getting between her and the door l. to which she is backing._)
Oh, no, don’t go. Do you know, I shall really think you are trying to
avoid me.
Deb. (_Retreating behind table--Guss. takes a step._) Oh, not at all.
Guss. (_c. gets l. of r. c. table._) Ah, so pleasant to hear you say so.
You know, Miss Deacon, I so want you to like me.
Deb. Yes, well--I do very much, only I can’t stop to do it now, because
you see aunt wants me. (_Moves c. up stage. Guss. stops her. Bus. of
Deb. trying to get away and of Guss. cutting her off and trying to get
near her; is kept up throughout the scene._)
Guss. Ah, but your aunt sees so much of you and I can see so little.
Deb. (_Laughing, walks l. c. up stage. Guss. at head of sofa._) I’m
afraid there’s not very much more of me to see. I must go really,
because we have got to do some shopping this morning.
Guss. Ah, let me come with you?
Deb. Oh, no, I won’t tax your kindness. I know you men hate shopping,
and we are going into drapers’ and dressmakers’ and all sorts of
dreadful places, (_c._)
Guss. Ah, they will not be dreadful if you are there, Miss Deacon.
Deb. And aunt always takes such a long time shopping. (_Goes up c._)
Never can make up her mind, and I’m worse still, and--(_makes movement,
Guss. moves behind settle and stops her down l._)
Guss. Ah, the longer you take, the better I shall like it. I shall enjoy
coming, I assure you.
Deb. (_Getting more and more cross, comes r.c._) Well you know I really
don’t think you will; and really, Mr. Gussett--(_turns r.a little._)
Guss. (_Interrupting._) Ah, I know better. No, I quite insist upon
coming.
Deb. (_With calm, suppressed temper._) Ah, all right, Mr. Gussett, you
shall. (_Crossing l. meets Mrs. R. just entering l._) Aunt, I want you.
(_Turning her round again._)
Mrs. R. (_l._) Why, whatever’s the--
Deb. I’ll tell you, come along.
(_Exeunt Mrs. R. and Deb. l._)
Guss. (_r. turns and arranges his moustache in glass over chimney_).
Might do worse, Gussy, my boy. (_Turns round again._) She’s not a bad
little thing, lick her into shape a bit.
(_Enter Luke, upper l._)
Luke. (_Crossing to table and taking up his hat._) Coming?
Guss. No, dear boy. (_Laughing._) Got a little job on.
Luke. Oh, on the war-path?
Guss. Yes--well, I may as well keep it in hand--Chawbacon will make her
good for a thousand or two, I expect--if nothing better turns up.
Luke. Ah--wish you luck--she’ll be a good match for you, I think, Gussy.
(_Exit Luke c._)
(_Enter Mrs. R. and Deb. lower door l. Both are wearing old-fashioned
big country shawls, and big bonnets. Deb. evidently has on one of her
aunt’s. Their dress altogether is as extravagant as comedy will permit,
and has evidently been hastily put on. Deb. also carries a big country
hand-basket covered with a cloth, the neck of a bottle sticking
prominently out, and a huge gamp. Deb. smothering her laughter_).
Deb. (_Crossing r.c._) We are quite ready, Mr. Gussett
Mrs. R. Yes, we are quite ready.
Guss. (_Who has regarded them with a horrified stare._) Ah, yes, if you
will wait a minute I think I will call a cab.
Deb. Oh, we’d rather walk, thank you--you would rather walk, wouldn’t
you, aunt?
Mrs. R. Oh, I’ve made up my mind for a walk.
Deb. Yes, we would both rather walk. Will you give your arm to aunty,
Mr. Gussett? (_Guss. crosses to c._) And be very careful of her at the
crossings, because she’s rather nervous, and so am I.
Deb. (_r.c. handing the basket to Guss._) You won’t mind carrying the
basket, will you, Mr. Gussett, because it’s so heavy? (_He takes it
bewildered and helpless._)
(_As Guss., Deb. and Mrs. R. reach door c., enter Allen and Clara l.
upper e._)
Allen. Hulloa! Where be thee off to?
Deb. Down Regent street, and up--Piccadilly, I think you call it.
Good-bye.
(_Exeunt Mrs. R., Deb. and Guss. c._)
Clara. (_Comes l. laughing._) I should like to be there to see the Hon.
Tom Gussett at the crossings.
Allen. (_Half amused, half cross._) Ah, her be a madcap, her be, that
girl. What makes thee so anxious that I should join the company?
Clara. (_Sitting l. on sofa, Allen stands by her, behind sofa, leaning
over._) Why, don’t you see, poor papa could be secretary if you joined.
They would let you nominate him, and we should be so glad to be earning
something--(_very low_)--and we are so poor. (_Laying her hand on him._)
Do join, Allen, for my sake.
Allen. (_Yielding--back of sofa._) Ah, thee don’t know how hard thee
makes it for me to say no.
Clara. Then don’t say it--it would make me so happy. (_Looking up at
him._)
Allen. It would?
Clara. (_Laying her hand as if unwittingly on his._)
And I should think you--(_drooping her head._) Ah! I’d better not say
what I should think you.
Allen. Ah, well, lass, if you wish it, I will then.
Clara. You will really?
Allen. Yes--if it will make thee happy I will. And now let’s talk about
yourself. (_Sits l. next to Clara._) Thee is the company I most wants to
join. How have thee been getting on?
Clara. (_Looking down._) Oh, dear!
Allen. What does “Oh dear” mean?
Clara. “Oh, dear” means very bad. Debts. (_With assumed bewilderment._)
Awful!
Allen. (_Smiling._) What sort of debts?
Clara. Oh, all sorts--tradespeople, you know, and all that, and then I
thought I could win a little by betting--(_Allen rises_)--and put it all
right--and I’ve been and lost. Oh dear!
Allen. (_Vexed, goes c._) I should ha’ thought there wur enough fools
among us men trying to win money that way.
Clara. I am naughty, I know--but papa leaves everything to me, and I get
so frightened when I see the debts mounting up and nothing to meet them,
and I’ve no one to advise me. (_Crosses l._)
Allen. (_After a pause, rises, goes to Clara--kindly._) I didn’t mean
to speak unkind, lass. I’m full of old-fashioned notions about women, I
suppose. I like ’em to be women--not mere men in petticoats. How much
does thee owe?
Clara. Oh, heaps! (_Handing him pocket-book._) Look. (_Allen crosses to
R. and sits at table._) And I haven’t any money. (_Rising and looking
over his shoulder R., as he examines the book._) Do you think they’ll
put me in prison?
Allen. (_Turns--laughing._) Thee ought to be taken in charge by
somebody, that’s certain. (_Allen rises, puts some notes from his
pocket-book into hers, and hands it back to her._) I owe your father
a little over one or two bets. I can take it off that and give him the
rest, like. (_Crosses to l._)
Clara. (_Takes book and lays it on the table--the notes drop out on to
the table._) You are good, Allen, really. (_Puts book on table R.--half
to herself._) I wish sometimes that you weren’t--that you were more like
other men I have met. (_Turning away r._)
Allen. Why, would thee like me better?
Clara. No, but I should like myself better.
Allen. What do thee mean, lass?
Clara. Nothing. I’m not used to your sort of men. (_Goes to fireplace,
then up R., throwing off her seriousness and turning towards him._) You
are like the knight, Allen, out of some old legend that comes and slays
the dragon and sets the frightened princess free from all her trouble.
(_Laughing._)
Allen. (_Goes to table r. Clara r.c. at top of table._) When art thee
going to gie me the right to be thy knight always?
Clara..(_Sits at table playfully._) Ah, the gallant knights are apt
to turn into grim jailers--(_comes l. of r. table_)--when they get the
princess into their own castles.
Allen. Can’t thee believe me, Clara? Trust me, lass--I’m only a rough
country chap to be asking a beautiful lady like thee to be my wife. But
if I can’t gie thee anything very showy on the outside, it will make me
the more eager alius to keep a loving heart for thee within.
Clara. Oh, no. (_Sits in chair l. of table._) A lover on his knees is so
much nicer than a lover on your arm. You are so nice, Allen, as you are,
you can’t think. I really couldn’t bring myself to risk a change.
Allen, (_c._) It would be a change for thee, Clara--(_leans on table at
back of Clara, puts hand on Clara’s chair_)--from a rough and troubled
road to one where every stone wur smoothed away from your path---where
every thorn wur held back as you passed--where, instead of care for
the day and dread for the morrow, thee would feel that a strong arm wur
round thee--that a loving hand wur working out thy life for thee. Cannot
thee risk the change, Clara?
Clara. (_Rises, Allen takes her right hand, turns away R._) Ah, I
suppose there are such lives for some women. It must be very good when
you are tired. (_Facing round to L.c._) And you, Allen--women do not
always seem so charming after marriage as they did before. It might be a
risk for you.
Allen. To have the sweetest, noblest woman in the world to be my wife?
I’ll risk that. (_Laughs, comes c._)
Clara. (_Turning away again to R., Allen l.c._) Ah, you boys, you think
all women are angels.
Allen. So they are--a good woman is an angel.
Clara. (_At Are, facing round and looking at him._) How do you know I am
good? (_Very low and serious. Allen drops down c. A pause. He looks in
surprise and inquiry at her, not knowing what to answer._)
Clara. Hadn’t you better make sure, Allen? (_Laughing._) What do you
know of my past--of even my present--of whence I came--what I am?
(_Laughs._) Suppose, Allen, suppose I were only an adventuress.
(_Takes a step._) A woman with the blood of sharpers and thieves in her
veins--whose nursery was the gambling house--whose school was the Café
and the Boulevards--a woman who earned her daily bread by shamelessness
and cunning--a woman whose past would ever follow like a shadow the
footsteps of her life--whose future must ever be a darker shadow still.
Ah, Allen, take care. Cupid ties a bandage over men’s eyes. Hymen, when
it is too late, plucks it off. Hadn’t you better lift a corner off the
handkerchief, Allen, while we are yet upon the step without, lest beside
your hearth, when the door has shut us in, you cast it loose, to find
I am a stain upon your name--a shadow in your home--a blight upon your
life? (_Laughing._) Allen, take care--take care. (_Crosses to l. Allen
moves up a trifle._)
Allen. (_Recovering from the bewilderment with which he has heard her._)
Ah, it’s well for thee that it is thee, and not anyone else that talks
like this about ’ee.
Clara. Ah, but Allen, try and find out a little more about me; it’s just
a whim of mine--I want to feel sure that you know me--just to please me.
Allen. If I couldn’t trust thee--(_takes her hand_)--lass, I shouldn’t
love thee.
Clara. (_Crosses to R.c. Allen follows._) Ah, you are a dear good
fellow, Allen, and I won’t tease you any more. And you will join the
company, won’t you? And then you shall get me that dear little diamond
bracelet that we looked at--do you remember it?--and you shall put it
on yourself. (_Allen by her side r. All this is said with every trick of
fascination at her command, and now she playfully holds up her arm, from
which the loose sleeve falls back, close to his face._) On that. (_He
drops on his knees and kisses her arm_).
(_Enter Deb. c._)
Clara. (_Snatches her arm away._) Deborah! (_Allen rises._)
Allen. (_Turning and seeing her, goes to fireplace R._) Hullo, thee’s
back soon.
Deb. Yes, aunt met Mrs. Clouter just outside, so I pleaded a headache
and left them. (_Throwing off bonnet and shawl on chair and coming
down._) Don’t you think Col. Dexter would like a game of billiards,
Allen?
Allen. No, he’s all right--he’s smoking. (_Crosses l._)
Deb. Oh, I’m sure he’d like a game (_Clara motions Allen away_), and I
want to have a chat with Miss Dexter. We shan’t see each other after
this morning for goodness knows how long.
Allen. (_Moving away l._) Ah, I understand now. (_Goes up stage l._)
I’ll go, and you can tell each other about your new frocks.
(_Exit Allen l., Clara goes c., Deb. l.c. and Clara look at each
other._)
Deb. (_After a pause._) I came back to see you, Miss Dexter, before you
left.
Clara. (_Coldly._) It was very good of you.
Deb. I want to know whether you are playing the fool with Allen, or
whether you mean to marry him.
Clara. I have heard of that sort of question being put to a gentleman
under certain circumstances. (_Crosses to L._)
Deb. It is put to the person who is supposed to be acting
dishonorably--I put it to you.
Clara. I am afraid I have been mixing things up. I was under the
impression that it was the stout lady, your aunt, that was Mr. Rollitt’s
mother.
Deb. You are very smart, Miss Dexter, and I am not, but this is no
game--it is earnest.
Clara. Then I would suggest to you that your cousin is quite capable of
taking care of himself.
Deb. Yes, against a man; but not against the woman he loves and trusts.
It is his love that enables you to deceive him.
Clara. (_Crossing to R.--sits on chair near table r._) You seem to have
made up your mind, my dear child, that I am deceiving him.
Deb. (_l.c._) I know that he has asked you to become his wife, and I
know that although you have let him think it is all right, you have
never given him a real answer. I know that you accept his attentions,
his invitations, his presents. (_Noticing the book and notes on the
table, points to them._) And all the while you are having whispered
interviews and secret meetings with another man.
Clara. (_Coolly counting notes._) If you are thinking of the
conversation you were trying to listen to just now--
Deb. That is only the latest of many such I have noticed. They began
three months ago, down in Devonshire. I come to London and find the same
thing going on.
Clara. (_Sneering._)’ You really ought to have been a detective, the
force might have been some use then.
Deb. I’m not blind. (_Goes c._) Allen is. But that is not all. These
things might be explained by themselves--suspicious though they are--but
just now, going downstairs, I picked up a purse. (_Pausing and looking
at Clara, who, however, makes no sign._) It is your purse. (_Throws it
into Clara’s lap._) I opened it to see whom it belonged to--and inside
it is a wedding ring. Is your name Dexter or Cranbourne?
Clara. (_Rising._) I really must decline to answer any questions of
yours. You are so exceedingly rude. (_Crosses up behind table R.c._)
Deb. You need not answer me. Answer Allen. Tell him that you will be
his wife--or that you cannot. (_Clara takes no notice._) Do you refuse?
(_Crossing l._)
Clara. I refuse to be dictated to.
Deb. Then I shall communicate my suspicions to Allen.
Clara. (_Turning fiercely._) Do so. Tell him--(_walks round table to
back of Deb. c._)--that you believe that I am the wife of another man,
and am playing a shameful part with him merely to sponge on him. That
I am fondling him with the one hand only the better to pick his pocket
with the other. Tell him that you believe he is surrounded by a gang of
adventurers and thieves, of which I am the willing decoy. Tell him your
suspicions, and I will tell him that they are the poisonous concoctions
of a jealous woman--of a woman who loves him herself--(_laughs_)--and
seeks to win him from her more favored rival, by lies and trickery.
(_Goes dozen r._)
Deb. (_Quietly._) You shall answer him for all that, or he shall know
the reason why you dare not. (_Crosses L., and calls._) Allen! Allen!
(_Enter Allen l. up stage_).
Deb. (_l. c._) Allen, is Miss Dexter engaged to be married to you or
not?
Allen, (_l._) Well. (_Laughs._) Blest if I could tell ‘ee that, Deb.
That be the very thing I ha’ been trying to find out myself. Bain’t it,
Clara? Only her be such a tease. (_All said laughingly._)
Deb. (_Sharply._) You mean you have never been able to get a plain
answer, yes or no?
Allen. Gently, lass. Thee be mistaking this for some business of thine.
Deb. Allen, we’ve been like brother and sister all our lives, and your
happiness is my happiness. I have my reasons--very strong reasons--for
asking you to ask Miss Dexter now, before me, whether she will be your
wife.
Allen. I can’t say I thank thee, Deb, for interfering in a matter that
don’t concern thee. (_To Clara, crossing to her._) I hope, Clara, you
don’t think as I have any hand in this, but as things stand now, it will
perhaps be best (_advancing_) if I do ask thee. Will thee be my wife?
Clara. (_Crosses down. Very quietly and deliberately._) Yes! (_Stepping
forward and, putting her hand in Allen’s, c. A pause. She then, glancing
first at Deb., draws Allen slowly to her, and they kiss. They cross r._)
Allen. I think now, Deb, that Miss Dexter has a right to know thy
“reasons.”
Deb. They were mistaken ones, Allen. Please forgive me, both of you.
(_Exit Deb. l._)
Allen. (_Bewildered--looks after Deb._) What does it all mean?
Clara. I will tell you some time. Never mind now.
Allen. Ah, well, us oughtn’t to be angry with her, anyhow, for what
her’s done. (_Takes Clara’s hand in his._) Ought us? (_Draws her to him
and kisses her forehead_).
Clara. (_Disengaging herself gently._) I am going to tell papa. I am so
happy. (_Crosses l., looking back to him laughingly._)
(_Exit Clara l. up stage_).
Allen, (_c. after a pause._) Everything I want in the whole wide world,
and three months ago--(_Breaks off and pauses his hand over his eyes._)
I wonder if I shall wake up in a minute in the old farm and find that
the £200,000 and Clara have only been dreams. (_Rousing himself._) Ah,
no, it be real enough. (_Looks round._) Ah, they call Fortune a fickle
jade, but her’s been a firm friend to me. I’ll drink thee a bumper,
Fortune lass. (_Turns to table r., On which are wine and glasses, and
pours out a glassful._) I don’t know how much a bumper is, but I expects
it’s about a glassful, and thee shall ha’ it. (_Takes glass in his right
hand, and raises it._) Here’s thy jolly good health, my lass. To Lady
Fortune!
(_Enter Peters c. upper door, with card on salver._)
Allen. (_Lowers glass untouched._) What’s the matter?
Peters. (_Coming forward and presenting salver._) A gentleman to see
you, sir.
Allen. (_Takes card, but does not look at it._) He’ll have to be quick
about it then. Send un up. (_Footman seems to hesitate. Sharply._) Send
un up. Send un up.
(_Exit Peters c._)
Another of my swell friends, I suppose; they seem to be swarming
this--(_r. c. glances at card, his hand holding the glass sinks lower
and lower, he gazes round bewilderingly._)
(_Enter Richard Hanningford c._)
(_Reads card in amazed tone._) Richard Hanningford, I saw him lying dead
before my own eyes three months ago! Hann. (_At door, raising hat._) I
beg your pardon! (_The glass in Allen’s hand overturns_).
MEDIUM CURTAIN.