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Plays: Lady Frederick, The Explorer, A Man of Honour

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Title: Plays: Lady Frederick, The Explorer, A Man of Honour

Author: W. Somerset Maugham


        
Release date: November 9, 2011 [eBook #37962]
                Most recently updated: October 23, 2021

Language: English

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_LADY FREDERICK_

_HEINEMANN'S MODERN PLAYS_

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_A MAN OF HONOUR_

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_21 Bedford St., W.C._




_LADY FREDERICK_


_A COMEDY_

_In Three Acts_

_BY W. S. MAUGHAM_

_LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN_

_MCMXII_

_Copyright: London William Heinemann 1912_

This play was produced at the Court Theatre on Saturday, October 26,
1907, with the following cast:

    LADY FREDERICK BEROLLES            ETHEL IRVING
    SIR GERALD O'MARA                  EDMUND BREON
    MR. PARADINE FOULDES                C. M. LOWNE
    MARCHIONESS OF MERESTON             BERYL FABER
    MARQUESS OF MERESTON            W. GRAHAM BROWN
    CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE          ARTHUR HOLMES-GORE
    ADMIRAL CARLISLE                   E. W. GARDEN
    ROSE                             BEATRICE TERRY
    LADY FREDERICK'S DRESSMAKER       FLORENCE WOOD
    LADY FREDERICK'S FOOTMAN          CLAUDE VERNON
    LADY FREDERICK'S MAID                 INA PELLY
    THOMPSON                          REGINALD EYRE
    A WAITER                      HEATH J. HAVILAND




_LADY FREDERICK_


_CHARACTERS_

LADY FREDERICK BEROLLES

SIR GERALD O'MARA

MR. PARADINE FOULDES

MARCHIONESS OF MERESTON

MARQUESS OF MERESTON

ADMIRAL CARLISLE

ROSE

LADY FREDERICK'S DRESSMAKER

LADY FREDERICK'S FOOTMAN

LADY FREDERICK'S MAID

THOMPSON

A WAITER AT THE HOTEL SPLENDIDE

TIME: _The Present Day_

ACTS I and II--_Drawing-room at the Hotel Splendide, Monte Carlo._

ACT III--_Lady Frederick's Dressing-Room._


     _The Performing Rights of this play are fully protected, and
     permission to perform it, whether by Amateurs or Professionals,
     must be obtained in advance from the author's Sole Agent, R.
     Golding Bright, 20 Green Street, Leicester Square, London, W.C.,
     from whom all particulars can be obtained._




LADY FREDERICK




THE FIRST ACT


     SCENE: _Drawing-room of the Hotel Splendide at Monte Carlo. A
     large, handsomely furnished room, with doors right and left, and
     French windows at the back leading to a terrace. Through these is
     seen the starry southern night. On one side is a piano, on the
     other a table with papers neatly laid out on it. There is a lighted
     stove._

     LADY MERESTON, _in evening dress, rather magnificently attired, is
     reading the papers. She is a handsome woman of forty. She puts down
     the paper impatiently and rings the bell. A servant answers. He has
     a French accent._


LADY MERESTON.

Did Mr. Paradine Fouldes come this evening?

SERVANT.

Yes, miladi.

LADY MERESTON.

Is he in the hotel now?

SERVANT.

Yes, miladi.

LADY MERESTON.

Will you send some one up to his room to say I'm waiting to see him?

SERVANT.

Pardon, miladi, but the gentleman say 'e was on no account to be
disturbed.

LADY MERESTON.

Nonsense. Mr. Fouldes is my brother. You must go to him immediately.

SERVANT.

Mr. Fouldes his valet is in the 'all. Will your ladyship speak with him?

LADY MERESTON.

Mr. Fouldes is more difficult to see than a cabinet minister. Send his
servant to me.

SERVANT.

Very good, miladi.

[_Exit Servant, and presently_ THOMPSON, Mr. Fouldes' _man, comes in_.

THOMPSON.

Your ladyship wished to see me.

LADY MERESTON.

Good evening, Thompson. I hope you had a comfortable journey.

THOMPSON.

Yes, my lady. Mr. Fouldes always has a comfortable journey.

LADY MERESTON.

Was the sea calm when you crossed?

THOMPSON.

Yes, my lady. Mr. Fouldes would look upon it as a great liberty if the
sea was not calm.

LADY MERESTON.

Will you tell Mr. Fouldes that I should like to see him at once?

THOMPSON.

[_Looking at his watch._] Excuse me, my lady, but Mr. Fouldes said no
one was to disturb him till ten o'clock. It's more than my place is
worth to go to him at five minutes to.

LADY MERESTON.

But what on earth's he doing?

THOMPSON.

I don't know at all, my lady.

LADY MERESTON.

How long have you been with Mr. Fouldes?

THOMPSON.

Twenty-five years, my lady.

LADY MERESTON.

I should have thought you knew how he spent every minute of his day.

[PARADINE _comes in. He is a very well-dressed man of forty-odd.
Self-possessed, worldly, urbane. He is never at a loss or put out of
countenance. He overhears_ LADY MERESTON'S _last words_.

FOULDES.

When I engaged Thompson I told him the first thing he must learn was the
very difficult feat of keeping his eyes open and shut at one and the
same time.

LADY MERESTON.

My dear Paradine, I've been waiting to see you for the last two hours.
How tiresome you are.

FOULDES.

You may give me a kiss, Maud, but don't be rough.

LADY MERESTON.

[_Kissing his cheek._] You ridiculous creature. You really might have
come to see me at once.

FOULDES.

My dear, you cannot grudge me a little repose after a long and tedious
journey. I had to repair the ravages to my person caused by twenty-seven
hours in the train.

LADY MERESTON.

Don't be so absurd. I'm sure your person is never ravished.

FOULDES.

Ravaged, my dear, ravaged. I should look upon it as an affectation at my
age if I were not a little upset by the journey from London to Monte
Carlo.

LADY MERESTON.

I'll be bound you ate a very hearty dinner.

FOULDES.

Thompson, did I eat any dinner at all?

THOMPSON.

[_Stolidly._] Soup, sir.

FOULDES.

I remember looking at it.

THOMPSON.

Fish, sir.

FOULDES.

I trifled with a fried sole.

THOMPSON.

Bouchées à la Reine, sir.

FOULDES.

They have left absolutely no impression upon me.

THOMPSON.

Tournedos à la Splendide.

FOULDES.

They were distinctly tough, Thompson. You must lodge a complaint in the
proper quarter.

THOMPSON.

Roast pheasant, sir.

FOULDES.

Yes, yes, now you mention it, I do remember the pheasant.

THOMPSON.

Chocolate ice, sir.

FOULDES.

It was too cold, Thompson. It was distinctly too cold.

LADY MERESTON.

My dear Paradine, I think you dined uncommonly well.

FOULDES.

I have reached an age when love, ambition and wealth pale into
insignificance beside a really well-grilled steak. That'll do, Thompson.

THOMPSON.

Very well, sir.

            [_He goes out._

LADY MERESTON.

It's too bad of you, Paradine, to devour a substantial meal when I'm
eating out my very heart with anxiety.

FOULDES.

It seems to agree with you very well. I've not seen you look better for
years.

LADY MERESTON.

For heaven's sake be serious and listen to me.

FOULDES.

I started immediately I got your telegram. Pray tell me what I can do
for you?

LADY MERESTON.

My dear Paradine, Charlie's head over ears in love.

FOULDES.

It's not altogether an unexpected condition for a young man of
twenty-two. If the lady's respectable, marry him and resign yourself to
being a dowager. If she's not, give her five hundred pounds and pack her
off to Paris or London or wherever else she habitually practises her
arts and graces.

LADY MERESTON.

I wish I could. But who d'you think it is?

FOULDES.

My dear, there's nothing I detest more than riddles. I can imagine quite
a number of fair ladies who would look without disdain upon a young
marquess with fifty thousand a year.

LADY MERESTON.

Lady Frederick Berolles.

FOULDES.

By Jupiter!

LADY MERESTON.

She's fifteen years older than he is.

FOULDES.

Then she's not old enough to be his mother, which is a distinct
advantage.

LADY MERESTON.

She dyes her hair.

FOULDES.

She dyes it uncommonly well.

LADY MERESTON.

She paints.

FOULDES.

Much better than a Royal Academician.

LADY MERESTON.

And poor Charlie's simply infatuated. He rides with her all the morning,
motors with her all the afternoon, and gambles with her half the night.
I never see him.

FOULDES.

But why should you think Lady Frederick cares two straws for him?

LADY MERESTON.

Don't be ridiculous, Paradine. Every one knows she hasn't a penny, and
she's crippled with debts.

FOULDES.

One has to keep up appearances in this world. Life nowadays for the
woman of fashion is a dilemma of which one horn is the Bankruptcy Court
and the other--dear Sir Francis Jeune.

LADY MERESTON.

I wish I knew how she manages to dress so beautifully. It's one of the
injustices of fate that clothes only hang on a woman really well when
she's lost every shred of reputation.

FOULDES.

My dear, you must console yourself with the thought that she'll probably
frizzle for it hereafter.

LADY MERESTON.

I hope I'm not wicked, Paradine, but to wear draperies and wings in the
next world offers me no compensation for looking dowdy in a Paquin gown
in this.

FOULDES.

I surmised she was on the verge of bankruptcy when I heard she'd bought
a new motor. And you seriously think Charlie wants to marry her?

LADY MERESTON.

I'm sure of it.

FOULDES.

And what d'you want me to do?

LADY MERESTON.

Good heavens, I want you to prevent it. After all he has a magnificent
position; he's got every chance of making a career for himself. There's
no reason why he shouldn't be Prime Minister--it's not fair to the boy
to let him marry a woman like that.

FOULDES.

Of course you know Lady Frederick?

LADY MERESTON.

My dear Paradine, we're the greatest friends. You don't suppose I'm
going to give her the advantage of quarrelling with me. I think I shall
ask her to luncheon to meet you.

FOULDES.

Women have such an advantage over men in affairs of this sort. They're
troubled by no scruples, and, like George Washington, never hesitate to
lie.

LADY MERESTON.

I look upon her as an abandoned creature, and I tell you frankly I shall
stop at nothing to save my son from her clutches.

FOULDES.

Only a thoroughly good woman could so calmly announce her intention of
using the crookedest ways to gain her ends.

LADY MERESTON.

[_Looking at him._] There must be some incident in her career which she
wouldn't like raked up. If we could only get hold of that....

FOULDES.

[_Blandly._] How d'you imagine I can help you?

LADY MERESTON.

A reformed burglar is always the best detective.

FOULDES.

My dear, I wish you could be frank without being sententious.

LADY MERESTON.

You've run through two fortunes, and if we all got our deserts you would
be starving now instead of being richer than ever.

FOULDES.

My second cousins have a knack of dying at the psychological moment.

LADY MERESTON.

You've been a horrid, dissipated wretch all your life, and heaven knows
the disreputable people who've been your bosom friends.

FOULDES.

With my knowledge of the world and your entire lack of scruple we should
certainly be a match for one defenceless woman.

LADY MERESTON.

[_Looking at him sharply._] Common report says that at one time you were
very much in love with her.

FOULDES.

Common report is an ass whose long ears only catch its own braying.

LADY MERESTON.

I was wondering how far things went. If you could tell Charlie of the
relations between you....

FOULDES.

My good Maud, there were no relations--unfortunately.

LADY MERESTON.

Poor George was very uneasy about you at the time.

FOULDES.

Your deceased husband, being a strictly religious man, made a point of
believing the worst about his neighbours.

LADY MERESTON.

Don't, Paradine; I know you didn't like one another, but remember that I
loved him with all my heart. I shall never get over his death.

FOULDES.

My dear girl, you know I didn't mean to wound you.

LADY MERESTON.

After all, it was largely your fault. He was deeply religious, and as
the president of the Broad Church Union he couldn't countenance your
mode of life.

FOULDES.

[_With great unction._] Thank God in my day I've been a miserable
sinner!

LADY MERESTON.

[_Laughing._] You're quite incurable, Paradine. But you will help me
now. Since his father's death, the boy and I have lived a very retired
life, and now we're quite helpless. It would break my heart if Charlie
married that woman.

FOULDES.

I'll do my best. I think I can promise you that nothing will come of it.

     [_The door is flung open, and_ LADY FREDERICK _enters, followed by_
     MERESTON, _a young boyish man of twenty-two; by her brother_, SIR
     GERALD O'MARA, _a handsome fellow of six-and-twenty; by_ CAPTAIN
     MONTGOMERIE, ADMIRAL CARLISLE, _and_ ROSE, _his daughter_. LADY
     FREDERICK _is a handsome Irish woman of thirty to thirty-five,
     beautifully dressed. She is very vivacious, and light-hearted. She
     has all the Irish recklessness and unconcern for the morrow.
     Whenever she wants to get round anybody she falls into an Irish
     brogue, and then, as she knows very well, she is quite
     irresistible._ CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE _is a polished, well-groomed man
     of thirty-five, with suave manners_. THE ADMIRAL _is bluff and
     downright_. ROSE _is a pretty ingénue of nineteen_.

LADY MERESTON.

Here they are.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Enthusiastically going to him with open arms._] Paradine! Paradine!
Paradine!

MERERSTON.

Oh, my prophetic soul, mine uncle!

FOULDES.

[_Shaking hands with_ LADY FREDERICK.] I heard you were at the Casino.

LADY FREDERICK.

Charlie lost all his money, so I brought him away.

LADY MERESTON.

I wish you wouldn't gamble, Charlie dear.

MERERSTON.

My dear mother, I've only lost ten thousand francs.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_To_ PARADINE FOULDES.] I see you're in your usual robust health.

FOULDES.

You needn't throw it in my face. I shall probably be very unwell
to-morrow.

LADY FREDERICK.

D'you know Admiral Carlisle? This is my brother Gerald.

FOULDES.

[_Shaking hands._] How d'you do?

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Introducing._] Captain Montgomerie.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

I think we've met before.

FOULDES.

I'm very pleased to hear it. How d'you do. [_To_ MERERSTON.] Are you
having a good time in Monte Carlo, Charles?

MERERSTON.

A 1, thanks.

FOULDES.

And what do you do with yourself?

MERERSTON.

Oh, hang about generally, you know--and there's always the tables.

FOULDES.

That's right, my boy; I'm glad to see that you prepare yourself properly
for your duties as a hereditary legislator.

MERERSTON.

[_Laughing._] Oh, shut it, Uncle Paradine.

FOULDES.

I rejoice also to find that you have already a certain command of the
vernacular.

MERERSTON.

Well, if you can browbeat a London cabby and hold your own in repartee
with a barmaid, it oughtn't to be difficult to get on all right in the
House of Lords.

FOULDES.

But let me give you a solemn warning. You have a magnificent chance,
dear boy, with all the advantages of wealth and station. I beseech you
not to throw it away by any exhibition of talent. The field is clear and
the British people are waiting for a leader. But remember that the
British people like their leaders dull. Capacity they mistrust,
versatility they cannot bear, and wit they utterly abhor. Look at the
fate of poor Lord Parnaby. His urbanity gained him the premiership, but
his brilliancy overthrew him. How could the fortunes of the nation be
safe with a man whose speeches were pointed and sparkling, whose mind
was so quick, so agile, that it reminded you of a fencer's play? Every
one is agreed that Lord Parnaby is flippant and unsubstantial; we doubt
his principles and we have grave fears about his morality. Take warning,
my dear boy, take warning. Let the sprightly epigram never lighten the
long periods of your speech nor the Attic salt flavour the roast beef of
your conversation. Be careful that your metaphors show no imagination
and conceal your brains as you would a discreditable secret. Above all,
if you have a sense of humour, crush it. Crush it.

MERESTON.

My dear uncle, you move me very much. I will be as stupid as an owl.

FOULDES.

There's a good, brave boy.

MERESTON.

I will be heavy and tedious.

FOULDES.

I see already the riband of the Garter adorning your shirt-front.
Remember, there's no damned merit about that.

MERESTON.

None shall listen to my speeches without falling into a profound sleep.

FOULDES.

[_Seizing his hand._] The premiership itself is within your grasp.

LADY MERESTON.

Dear Paradine, let us take a stroll on the terrace before we go to bed.

FOULDES.

And you shall softly whisper all the latest scandal in my ear.

            [_He puts on her cloak and they go out._

LADY FREDERICK.

May I speak to you, Admiral?

ADMIRAL.

Certainly, certainly. What can I do for you?

            [_While_ LADY FREDERICK _and the_ ADMIRAL _talk,
            the others go slowly out. Through the
            conversation she uses her Irish brogue._

LADY FREDERICK.

Are you in a good temper?

ADMIRAL.

Fairly, fairly.

LADY FREDERICK.

I'm glad of that because I want to make you a proposal of marriage.

ADMIRAL.

My dear Lady Frederick, you take me entirely by surprise.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Laughing._] Not on my own behalf, you know.

ADMIRAL.

Oh, I see.

LADY FREDERICK.

The fact is, my brother Gerald has asked your daughter to marry him, and
she has accepted.

ADMIRAL.

Rose is a minx, Lady Frederick, and she's much too young to marry.

LADY FREDERICK.

Now don't fly into a passion. We're going to talk it over quite calmly.

ADMIRAL.

I tell you I won't hear of it. The boy's penniless.

LADY FREDERICK.

That's why it's so lucky you're rich.

ADMIRAL.

Eh?

LADY FREDERICK.

You've been talking of buying a place in Ireland. You couldn't want
anything nicer than Gerald's--gravel soil, you know. And you simply dote
on Elizabethan architecture.

ADMIRAL.

I can't bear it.

LADY FREDERICK.

How fortunate, then, that the house was burnt down in the eighteenth
century and rebuilt in the best Georgian style.

ADMIRAL.

Ugh.

LADY FREDERICK.

And you'd love to have little grandsons to dandle on your knee.

ADMIRAL.

How do I know they wouldn't be girls?

LADY FREDERICK.

Oh, it's most unusual in our family.

ADMIRAL.

I tell you I won't hear of it.

LADY FREDERICK.

You know, it's not bad to have the oldest baronetcy in the country but
one.

ADMIRAL.

I suppose I shall have to pack Rose off to England.

LADY FREDERICK.

And break her heart?

ADMIRAL.

Women's hearts are like old china, none the worse for a break or two.

LADY FREDERICK.

Did you ever know my husband, Admiral?

ADMIRAL.

Yes.

LADY FREDERICK.

I was married to him at seventeen because my mother thought it a good
match, and I was desperately in love with another man. Before we'd been
married a fortnight he came home blind drunk, and I had never seen a
drunken man before. Then I found out he was a confirmed tippler. I was
so ashamed. If you only knew what my life was for the ten years I lived
with him. I've done a lot of foolish things in my time, but, my God, I
have suffered.

ADMIRAL.

Yes, I know, I know.

LADY FREDERICK.

And believe me, when two young things love one another it's better to
let them marry. Love is so very rare in this world. One really ought to
make the most of it when it's there.

ADMIRAL.

I'm very sorry, but I've made up my mind.

LADY FREDERICK.

Ah, but won't you alter it--like Nelson. Don't be hard on Rose. She's
really in love with Gerald. Do give them a chance. Won't you? Ah,
do--there's a dear.

ADMIRAL.

I don't want to hurt your feelings, but Sir Gerald is about the most
ineligible young man that I've ever come across.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Triumphantly._] There, I knew we should agree. That's precisely what I
told him this morning.

ADMIRAL.

I understand his place is heavily mortgaged.

LADY FREDERICK.

No one will lend a penny more on it. If they would Gerald would borrow
it at once.

ADMIRAL.

He's got nothing but his pay to live upon.

LADY FREDERICK.

And his tastes are very extravagant.

ADMIRAL.

He's a gambler.

LADY FREDERICK.

Yes, but then he's so good looking.

ADMIRAL.

Eh?

LADY FREDERICK.

I'm glad that we agree so entirely about him. Now there's nothing left
but to call the young things in, join their hands and give them our
united blessing.

ADMIRAL.

Before I consent to this marriage, madam, I'll see your brother----

LADY FREDERICK.

Damned?

ADMIRAL.

Yes, madam, damned.

LADY FREDERICK.

Now listen to me quietly, will you?

ADMIRAL.

I should warn you, Lady Frederick, that when I once make up my mind
about a thing, I never change it.

LADY FREDERICK.

Now that is what I really admire. I like a man of character. You know,
I've always been impressed by your strength and determination.

ADMIRAL.

I don't know about that. But when I say a thing, I do it.

LADY FREDERICK.

Yes, I know. And in five minutes you're going to say that Gerald may
marry your pretty Rose.

ADMIRAL.

No, no, no.

LADY FREDERICK.

Now look here, don't be obstinate, I don't like you when you're
obstinate.

ADMIRAL.

I'm not obstinate. I'm firm.

LADY FREDERICK.

After all, Gerald has lots of good qualities. He's simply devoted to
your daughter. He's been a little wild, but you know you wouldn't give
much for a young man who hadn't.

ADMIRAL.

[_Gruffly._] I don't want a milksop for a son-in-law.

LADY FREDERICK.

As soon as he's married, he'll settle into a model country squire.

ADMIRAL.

Well, he's a gambler, and I can't get over that.

LADY FREDERICK.

Shall he promise you never to play cards again? Now, don't be horrid.
You don't want to make me utterly wretched, do you?

ADMIRAL.

[_Unwillingly._] Well, I'll tell you what I'll do--they shall marry if
he doesn't gamble for a year.

LADY FREDERICK.

Oh, you duck. [_She impulsively throws her arms round his neck and
kisses him. He is a good deal taken aback._] I beg your pardon, I
couldn't help it.

ADMIRAL.

I don't altogether object, you know.

LADY FREDERICK.

Upon my word, in some ways you're rather fascinating.

ADMIRAL.

D'you think so, really?

LADY FREDERICK.

I do indeed.

ADMIRAL.

I rather wish that proposal of marriage had been on your own behalf.

LADY FREDERICK.

Ah, with me, dear Admiral, experience triumphs over hope. I must tell
the children. [_Calling._] Gerald, come here. Rose.

            [GERALD _and_ ROSE _come in_.

LADY FREDERICK.

I always knew your father was a perfect darling, Rose.

ROSE.

Oh, papa, you are a brick.

ADMIRAL.

I thoroughly disapprove of the marriage, my dear, but--it's not easy to
say no to Lady Frederick.

GERALD.

It's awfully good of you, Admiral, and I'll do my best to make Rose a
ripping husband.

ADMIRAL.

Not so fast, young man, not so fast. There's a condition.

ROSE.

Oh, father!

LADY FREDERICK.

Gerald is to behave himself for a year, and then you may marry.

ROSE.

But won't Gerald grow very dull if he behaves himself?

LADY FREDERICK.

I have no doubt of it. But dullness is the first requisite of a good
husband.

ADMIRAL.

Now you must pack off to bed, my dear. I'm going to smoke my pipe before
turning in.

ROSE.

[_Kissing_ LADY FREDERICK.] Good-night, dearest. I'll never forget your
kindness.

LADY FREDERICK.

You'd better not thank me till you've been married a few years.

ROSE.

[_Holding out her hand to_ GERALD.] Good-night.

GERALD.

[_Taking it and looking at her._] Good-night.

ADMIRAL.

[_Gruffly._] You may as well do it in front of my face as behind my
back.

ROSE.

[_Lifting up her lips._] Good-night.

[_He kisses her, and the_ ADMIRAL _and_ ROSE _go out._

LADY FREDERICK.

Oh lord, I wish I were eighteen.

[_She sinks into a chair, and an expression of utter weariness comes
over her face._

GERALD.

I say, what's up?

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Starting._] I thought you'd gone. Nothing.

GERALD.

Come, out with it.

LADY FREDERICK.

Oh, my poor boy, if you only knew. I'm so worried that I don't know what
on earth to do.

GERALD.

Money?

LADY FREDERICK.

Last year I made a solemn determination to be economical. And it's
ruined me.

GERALD.

My dear, how could it?

LADY FREDERICK.

I can't make it out. It seems very unfair. The more I tried not to be
extravagant, the more I spent.

GERALD.

Can't you borrow?

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Laughing._] I have borrowed. That's just it.

GERALD.

Well, borrow again.

LADY FREDERICK.

I've tried to. But no one's such a fool as to lend me a penny.

GERALD.

Did you say I'd sign anything they liked?

LADY FREDERICK.

I was so desperate I said we'd both sign anything. It was Dick Cohen.

GERALD.

Oh lord, what did he say?

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Imitating a Jewish accent._] What's the good of wathting a nithe clean
sheet of paper, my dear lady?

GERALD.

[_Shouting with laughter._] By George, don't I know it.

LADY FREDERICK.

For heaven's sake don't let's talk of my affairs. They're in such a
state that if I think of them at all I shall have a violent fit of
hysterics.

GERALD.

But look here, what d'you really mean?

LADY FREDERICK.

Well, if you want it--I owe my dressmaker seven hundred pounds, and last
year I signed two horrid bills, one for fifteen hundred and the other
for two thousand. They fall due the day after to-morrow, and if I can't
raise the money I shall have to go through the Bankruptcy Court.

GERALD.

By George, that's serious.

LADY FREDERICK.

It's so serious that I can't help thinking something will happen.
Whenever I've got in a really tight fix something has turned up and put
me on my legs again. Last time, Aunt Elizabeth had an apoplectic fit.
But of course it wasn't really very profitable because mourning is so
desperately expensive.

GERALD.

Why don't you marry?

LADY FREDERICK.

Oh, my dear Gerald, you know I'm always unlucky at games of chance.

GERALD.

Charlie Mereston's awfully gone on you.

LADY FREDERICK.

That must be obvious to the meanest intelligence.

GERALD.

Well, why don't you have him?

LADY FREDERICK.

Good heavens, I'm old enough to be his mother.

GERALD.

Nonsense. You're only ten years older than he is, and nowadays no nice
young man marries a woman younger than himself.

LADY FREDERICK.

He's such a good fellow. I couldn't do him a nasty turn like that.

GERALD.

How about Montgomerie? He simply stinks of money, and he's not a bad
sort.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Surprised._] My dear boy, I hardly know him.

GERALD.

Well, I'm afraid it means marriage or bankruptcy.

LADY FREDERICK.

Here's Charlie. Take him away, there's a dear. I want to talk to
Paradine.

            _Enter_ PARADINE FOULDES _with_ MERESTON.

FOULDES.

What, still here, Lady Frederick?

LADY FREDERICK.

As large as life.

FOULDES.

We've been taking a turn on the terrace.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_To_ MERESTON.] And has your astute uncle been pumping you, Charlie?

FOULDES.

Eh, what?

MERESTON.

I don't think he got much out of me.

FOULDES.

[_Good-naturedly._] All I wanted, dear boy. There's no one so
transparent as the person who thinks he's devilish deep. By the way,
what's the time?

GERALD.

About eleven, isn't it?

FOULDES.

Ah! How old are you, Charlie?

MERESTON.

Twenty-two.

FOULDES.

Then it's high time you went to bed.

LADY FREDERICK.

Charlie's not going to bed till I tell him. Are you?

MERESTON.

Of course not.

FOULDES.

Has it escaped your acute intelligence, my friend, that I want to talk
to Lady Frederick?

MERESTON.

Not at all. But I have no reason to believe that Lady Frederick wants to
talk to you.

GERALD.

Let's go and have a game of pills, Charlie.

MERESTON.

D'you want to be left alone with the old villain?

FOULDES.

You show no respect for my dyed hairs, young man.

LADY FREDERICK.

I've not seen him for years, you know.

MERESTON.

Oh, all right. I say, you're coming for a ride to-morrow, aren't you?

LADY FREDERICK.

Certainly. But it must be in the afternoon.

FOULDES.

I'm sorry, but Charles has arranged to motor me over to Nice in the
afternoon.

MERESTON.

[_To_ LADY FREDERICK.] That'll suit me A 1. I had an engagement, but it
was quite unimportant.

LADY FREDERICK.

Then that's settled. Good-night.

MERESTON.

Good-night.

            [_He goes out with_ GERALD. LADY FREDERICK
            _turns and good-humouredly scrutinises_
            Paradine FOULDES.

LADY FREDERICK.

Well?

FOULDES.

Well?

LADY FREDERICK.

You wear excellently, Paradine.

FOULDES.

Thanks.

LADY FREDERICK.

How do you manage it?

FOULDES.

By getting up late and never going to bed early, by eating whatever I
like and drinking whenever I'm thirsty, by smoking strong cigars, taking
no exercise, and refusing under any circumstances to be bored.

LADY FREDERICK.

I'm sorry you had to leave town in such a hurry. Were you amusing
yourself?

FOULDES.

I come to the Riviera every year.

LADY FREDERICK.

I daresay, but not so early.

FOULDES.

I've never surrendered so far to middle age as to make habits.

LADY FREDERICK.

My dear Paradine, the day before yesterday, Lady Mereston, quite
distracted, went to the post office and sent you the following wire:
"Come at once, your help urgently needed. Charlie in toils designing
female, Maud." Am I right?

FOULDES.

I never admit even to myself that a well-dressed woman is mistaken.

LADY FREDERICK.

So you started post-haste, bent upon protecting your nephew, and were
infinitely surprised to learn that the designing female was no other
than your humble servant.

FOULDES.

You'd be irresistible, Lady Frederick, if you didn't know you were so
clever.

LADY FREDERICK.

And now what are you going to do?

FOULDES.

My dear lady, I'm not a police officer, but a very harmless, inoffensive
old bachelor.

LADY FREDERICK.

With more wiles than the mother of many daughters and the subtlety of a
company promoter.

FOULDES.

Maud seems to think that as I've racketted about a little in my time,
I'm just the sort of man to deal with you. Set a thief to catch a thief,
don't you know? She's rather fond of proverbs.

LADY FREDERICK.

She should have thought rather of: When Greek meets Greek, then comes
the tug of war. I hear Lady Mereston has been saying the most agreeable
things about me.

FOULDES.

Ah, that's women's fault; they always show their hand. You're the only
woman I ever knew who didn't.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_With a brogue._] You should have avoided the Blarney Stone when you
went to Ireland.

FOULDES.

Look here, d'you want to marry Charlie?

LADY FREDERICK.

Why should I?

FOULDES.

Because he's got fifty thousand a year, and you're head over ears in
debt. You've got to raise something like four thousand pounds at once,
or you go under. You've got yourself a good deal talked about during the
last ten years, but people have stood you because you had plenty of
money. If you go broke they'll drop you like a hot potato. And I daresay
it wouldn't be inconvenient to change Lady Frederick Berolles into Lady
Mereston. My sister has always led me to believe that it is rather
attractive to be a Marchioness.

LADY FREDERICK.

Unlike a duchess, its cheap without being gaudy.

FOULDES.

You asked me why you might want to marry a boy from ten to fifteen years
younger than yourself, and I've told you.

LADY FREDERICK.

And now perhaps you'll tell me why you're going to interfere in my
private concerns?

FOULDES.

Well, you see his mother happens to be my sister, and I'm rather fond of
her. It's true her husband was the most sanctimonious prig I've ever met
in my life.

LADY FREDERICK.

I remember him well. He was president of the Broad Church Union and wore
side-whiskers.

FOULDES.

But she stuck to me through thick and thin. I've been in some pretty
tight places in my day, and she's always given me a leg up when I wanted
it. I've got an idea it would just about break her heart if Charlie
married you.

LADY FREDERICK.

Thanks.

FOULDES.

You know, I don't want to be offensive, but I think it would be a pity
myself. And besides, unless I'm much mistaken, I've got a little score
of my own that I want to pay off.

LADY FREDERICK.

Have you?

FOULDES.

You've got a good enough memory not to have forgotten that you made a
blithering fool of me once. I swore I'd get even with you, and by
George, I mean to do it.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Laughing._] And how do you propose to stop me if I make up my mind
that I'm going to accept Charlie?

FOULDES.

Well, he's not proposed yet, has he?

LADY FREDERICK.

Not yet, but I've had to use every trick and device I can think of to
prevent him.

FOULDES.

Look here, I'm going to play this game with my cards on the table.

LADY FREDERICK.

Then I shall be on my guard. You're never so dangerous as when you
pretend to be frank.

FOULDES.

I'm sorry you should think so badly of me.

LADY FREDERICK.

I don't. Only it was a stroke of genius when Nature put the soul of a
Jesuit priest into the body of a Yorkshire squire.

FOULDES.

I wonder what you're paying me compliments for. You must be rather
afraid of me.

            [_They look at one another for a moment._

LADY FREDERICK.

Well, let's look at these cards.

FOULDES.

First of all, there's this money you've got to raise.

LADY FREDERICK.

Well?

FOULDES.

This is my sister's suggestion.

LADY FREDERICK.

That means you don't much like it.

FOULDES.

If you'll refuse the boy and clear out--we'll give you forty thousand
pounds.

LADY FREDERICK.

I suppose you'd be rather surprised if I boxed your ears.

FOULDES.

Now, look here, between you and me high falutin's rather absurd, don't
you think so? You're in desperate want of money, and I don't suppose it
would amuse you much to have a young hobbledehoy hanging about your
skirts for the rest of your life.

LADY FREDERICK.

Very well, we'll have no high falutin! You may tell Lady Mereston that
if I really wanted the money I shouldn't be such an idiot as to take
forty thousand down when I can have fifty thousand a year for the
asking.

FOULDES.

I told her that.

LADY FREDERICK.

You showed great perspicacity. Now for the second card.

FOULDES.

My dear, it's no good getting into a paddy over it.

LADY FREDERICK.

I've never been calmer in my life.

FOULDES.

You always had the very deuce of a temper. I suppose you've not given
Charlie a sample of it yet, have you?

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Laughing._] Not yet.

FOULDES.

Well, the second card's your reputation.

LADY FREDERICK.

But I haven't got any. I thought that such an advantage.

FOULDES.

You see Charlie is a young fool. He thinks you a paragon of all the
virtues, and it's never occurred to him that you've rather gone the pace
in your time.

LADY FREDERICK.

It's one of my greatest consolations to think that even a hundred
horse-power racing motor couldn't be more rapid than I've been.

FOULDES.

Still it'll be rather a shock to Charlie when he hears that this modest
flower whom he trembles to adore has....

LADY FREDERICK.

Very nearly eloped with his own uncle. But you won't tell him that story
because you hate looking a perfect ass.

FOULDES.

Madam, when duty calls, Paradine Fouldes consents even to look
ridiculous. But I was thinking of the Bellingham affair.

LADY FREDERICK.

Ah, of course, there's the Bellingham affair. I'd forgotten it.

FOULDES.

Nasty little business that, eh?

LADY FREDERICK.

Horrid.

FOULDES.

Don't you think it would choke him off?

LADY FREDERICK.

I think it very probable.

FOULDES.

Well, hadn't you better cave in?

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Ringing the bell._] Ah, but you've not seen my cards yet. [_A servant
enters._] Tell my servant to bring down the despatch-box which is on my
writing-table.

SERVANT.

Yes, miladi.

            [_Exit._

FOULDES.

What's up now?

LADY FREDERICK.

Well, four or five years ago I was staying at this hotel, and Mimi la
Bretonne had rooms here.

FOULDES.

I never heard of the lady, but her name suggests that she had an
affectionate nature.

LADY FREDERICK.

She was a little singer at the Folies Bergères, and she had the
loveliest emeralds I ever saw.

FOULDES.

But you don't know Maud's.

LADY FREDERICK.

The late Lord Mereston had a passion for emeralds. He always thought
they were such pure stones.

FOULDES.

[_Quickly._] I beg your pardon?

LADY FREDERICK.

Well, Mimi fell desperately ill, and there was no one to look after her.
Of course the pious English ladies in the hotel wouldn't go within a
mile of her, so I went and did the usual thing, don't you know.

            [LADY FREDERICK'S _man comes in with a small
            despatch-box which he places on a table. He
            goes out._ LADY FREDERICK _as she talks,
            unlocks it_.

FOULDES.

Thank God I'm a bachelor, and no ministering angel ever smoothes my
pillow when I particularly want to be left alone.

LADY FREDERICK.

I nursed her more or less through the whole illness, and afterwards she
fancied she owed me her worthless little life. She wanted to give me the
precious emeralds, and when I refused was so heart-broken that I said
I'd take one thing if I might.

FOULDES.

And what was that?

LADY FREDERICK.

A bundle of letters. I'd seen the address on the back of the envelope,
and then I recognised the writing. I thought they'd be much safer in my
hands than in hers. [_She takes them out of the box and hands them to_
PARADINE.] Here they are.

            [_He looks and starts violently._

FOULDES.

89 Grosvenor Square. It's Mereston's writing. You don't mean? What! Ah,
ah, ah. [_He bursts into a shout of laughter._] The old sinner. And
Mereston wouldn't have me in the house, if you please, because I was a
dissolute libertine. And he was the president of the Broad Church Union.
Good Lord, how often have I heard him say: "Gentlemen, I take my stand
on the morality, the cleanliness and the purity of English Family Life."
Oh, oh, oh.

LADY FREDERICK.

I've often noticed that the religious temperament is very susceptible to
the charms of my sex.

FOULDES.

May I look?

LADY FREDERICK.

Well, I don't know. I suppose so.

FOULDES.

[_Reading._] "Heart's delight".... And he signs himself, "your darling
chickabiddy." The old ruffian.

LADY FREDERICK.

She was a very pretty little thing.

FOULDES.

I daresay, but thank heaven, I have some sense of decency left, and it
outrages all my susceptibilities that a man in side-whiskers should call
himself anybody's chickabiddy.

LADY FREDERICK.

Protestations of undying affection are never ridiculous when they are
accompanied by such splendid emeralds.

FOULDES.

[_Starting and growing suddenly serious._] And what about Maud?

LADY FREDERICK.

Well?

FOULDES.

Poor girl, it'd simply break her heart. He preached at her steadily for
twenty years, and she worshipped the very ground he trod on. She'd have
died of grief at his death except she felt it her duty to go on with his
work.

LADY FREDERICK.

I know.

FOULDES.

By Jove, it's a good card. You were quite right to refuse the emeralds:
these letters are twice as valuable.

LADY FREDERICK.

Would you like to burn them?

FOULDES.

Betsy!

LADY FREDERICK.

There's the stove. Put them in.

            [_He takes them up in both hands and hurries to
            the stove. But he stops and brings them
            back, he throws them on the sofa._

FOULDES.

No, I won't.

LADY FREDERICK.

Why not?

FOULDES.

It's too dooced generous. I'll fight you tooth and nail, but it's not
fair to take an advantage over me like that. You'll bind my hands with
fetters.

LADY FREDERICK.

Very well. You've had your chance.

FOULDES.

But, by Jove, you must have a good hand to throw away a card like that.
What have you got--a straight flush?

LADY FREDERICK.

I may be only bluffing, you know.

FOULDES.

Lord, it does me good to hear your nice old Irish brogue again.

LADY FREDERICK.

Faith, and does it?

FOULDES.

I believe you only put it on to get over people.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Smiling._] Begorrah, it's not easy to get over you.

FOULDES.

Lord, I was in love with you once, wasn't I?

LADY FREDERICK.

Not more than lots of other people have been.

FOULDES.

And you did treat me abominably.

LADY FREDERICK.

Ah, that's what they all said. But you got over it very well.

FOULDES.

I didn't. My digestion was permanently impaired by your brutal
treatment.

LADY FREDERICK.

Is that why you went to Carlsbad afterwards instead of the Rocky
Mountains?

FOULDES.

You may laugh, but the fact remains that I've only been in love once,
and that was with you.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Smiling as she holds out her hand._] Good-night.

FOULDES.

For all that I'm going to fight you now for all I'm worth.

LADY FREDERICK.

I'm not frightened of you, Paradine.

FOULDES.

Good-night.

            [_As he goes out_, CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE _enters_.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Yawning and stretching her arms._] Oh I'm so sleepy.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

I'm sorry for that. I wanted to have a talk with you.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Smiling._] I daresay I can keep awake for five minutes, you
know--especially if you offer me a cigarette.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

Here you are.

            [_He hands her his case and lights her cigarette._

LADY FREDERICK.

[_With a sigh._] Oh, what a comfort.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

I wanted to tell you, I had a letter this morning from my solicitor to
say that he's just bought Crowley Castle on my behalf.

LADY FREDERICK.

Really. But it's a lovely place. You must ask me to come and stay.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

I should like you to stay there indefinitely.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_With a quick look._] That's charming of you, but I never desert my
London long.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

[_Smiling._] I have a very nice house in Portman Square.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Surprised._] Really?

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

And I'm thinking of going into Parliament at the next election.

LADY FREDERICK.

It appears to be a very delightful pastime to govern the British nation,
dignified without being laborious.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

Lady Frederick, although I've been in the service I have rather a good
head for business, and I hate beating about the bush. I wanted to ask
you to marry me.

LADY FREDERICK.

It's nice of you not to make a fuss about it. I'm very much obliged but
I'm afraid I can't.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

Why not?

LADY FREDERICK.

Well, you see, I don't know you.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

We could spend the beginning of our married life so usefully in making
one another's acquaintance.

LADY FREDERICK.

It would be rather late in the day then to come to the conclusion that
we couldn't bear the sight of one another.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

Shall I send my banker's book so that you may see that my antecedents
are respectable and my circumstances--such as to inspire affection.

LADY FREDERICK.

I have no doubt it would be very interesting--but not to me.

            [_She makes as if to go._

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

Ah, don't go yet. Won't you give me some reason?

LADY FREDERICK.

If you insist. I'm not in the least in love with you.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

D'you think that much matters?

LADY FREDERICK.

You're a friend of Gerald's, and he says you're a very good sort. But I
really can't marry every one that Gerald rather likes.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

He said he'd put in a good word for me.

LADY FREDERICK.

If I ever marry again it shall be to please myself, not to please my
brother.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

I hope I shall induce you to alter your mind.

LADY FREDERICK.

I'm afraid I can give you no hope of that.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

You know, when I determine to do a thing, I generally do it.

LADY FREDERICK.

That sounds very like a threat.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

You may take it as such if you please.

LADY FREDERICK.

And you've made up your mind that you're going to marry me?

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

Quite.

LADY FREDERICK.

Well, I've made up mine that you shan't. So we're quits.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

Why don't you talk to your brother about it?

LADY FREDERICK.

Because it's no business of his.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

Isn't it? Ask him!

LADY FREDERICK.

What do you mean by that?

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

Ask him? Good-night.

LADY FREDERICK.

Good-night. [_He goes out._ LADY FREDERICK _goes to the French window
that leads to the terrace and calls_.] Gerald!

GERALD.

Hulloa!

            [_He appears and comes into the room._

LADY FREDERICK.

Did you know that Captain Montgomerie was going to propose to me?

GERALD.

Yes.

LADY FREDERICK.

Is there any reason why I should marry him?

GERALD.

Only that I owe him nine hundred pounds.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Aghast._] Oh, why didn't you tell me?

GERALD.

You were so worried, I couldn't. Oh, I've been such a fool. I tried to
make a _coup_ for Rose's sake.

LADY FREDERICK.

Is it a gambling debt?

GERALD.

Yes.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Ironically._] What they call a debt of honour?

GERALD.

I must pay it the day after to-morrow without fail.

LADY FREDERICK.

But that's the day my two bills fall due. And if you don't?

GERALD.

I shall have to send in my papers, and I shall lose Rosie. And then I
shall blow out my silly brains.

LADY FREDERICK.

But who is the man?

GERALD.

He's the son of Aaron Levitzki, the money-lender.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Half-comic, half-aghast._] Oh lord!


END OF THE FIRST ACT




THE SECOND ACT


     _The scene is the same as in_ ACT I. ADMIRAL CARLISLE _is sleeping
     in an armchair with a handkerchief over his face_. ROSE _is sitting
     on a grandfather's chair, and_ GERALD _is leaning over the back_.


ROSE.

Isn't papa a perfectly adorable chaperon?

            [_The_ ADMIRAL _snores_.

GERALD.

Perfectly.

            [_A pause._

ROSE.

I've started fifteen topics of conversation in the last quarter of an
hour, Gerald.

GERALD.

[_Smiling._] Have you?

ROSE.

You always agree with me, and there's an end of it. So I have to rack my
brains again.

GERALD.

All you say is so very wise and sensible. Of course I agree.

ROSE.

I wonder if you'll think me sensible and wise in ten years.

GERALD.

I'm quite sure I shall.

ROSE.

Why, then, I'm afraid we shan't cultivate any great brilliancy of
repartee.

GERALD.

Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever.

ROSE.

Oh, don't say that. When a man's in love, he at once makes a pedestal of
the Ten Commandments and stands on the top of them with his arms akimbo.
When a woman's in love she doesn't care two straws for Thou Shalt and
Thou Shalt Not.

GERALD.

When a woman's in love she can put her heart on the slide of a
microscope and examine how it beats. When a man's in love, what do you
think he cares for science and philosophy and all the rest of it!

ROSE.

When a man's in love he can only write sonnets to the moon. When a
woman's in love she can still cook his dinner and darn her own
stockings.

GERALD.

I wish you wouldn't cap all my observations.

            [_She lifts up her face, and he kisses her lips._

ROSE.

I'm beginning to think you're rather nice, you know.

GERALD.

That's reassuring, at all events.

ROSE.

But no one could accuse you of being a scintillating talker.

GERALD.

Have you ever watched the lovers in the Park sitting on the benches hour
after hour without saying a word?

ROSE.

Why?

GERALD.

Because I've always thought that they must be bored to the verge of
tears. Now I know they're only happy.

ROSE.

You're certainly my soldier, so I suppose I'm your nursery-maid.

GERALD.

You know, when I was at Trinity College, Dublin----

ROSE.

[_Interrupting._] Were you there? I thought you went to Oxford.

GERALD.

No, why?

ROSE.

Only all my people go to Magdalen.

GERALD.

Yes.

ROSE.

And I've decided that if I ever have a son he shall go there too.

            [_The_ ADMIRAL _starts and pulls the handkerchief
            off his face. The others do not notice him.
            He is aghast and astounded at the conversation._
            LADY FREDERICK _comes in later and
            stands smiling as she listens_.

GERALD.

My darling, you know I hate to thwart you in any way, but I've quite
made up my mind that my son shall go to Dublin as I did.

ROSE.

I'm awfully sorry, Gerald, but the boy must be educated like a
gentleman.

GERALD.

There I quite agree, Rose, but first of all he's an Irishman, and it's
right that he should be educated in Ireland.

ROSE.

Darling Gerald, a mother's love is naturally the safest guide in these
things.

GERALD.

Dearest Rose, a father's wisdom is always the most reliable.

LADY FREDERICK.

Pardon my interfering, but--aren't you just a little previous?

ADMIRAL.

[_Bursting out._] Did you ever hear such a conversation in your life
between a young unmarried couple?

ROSE.

My dear papa, we must be prepared for everything.

ADMIRAL.

In my youth young ladies did not refer to things of that sort.

LADY FREDERICK.

Well, I don't suppose they're any the worse for having an elementary
knowledge of natural history. Personally I doubt whether ignorance is
quite the same thing as virtue, and I'm not quite sure that a girl makes
a better wife because she's been brought up like a perfect fool.

ADMIRAL.

I am old-fashioned, Lady Frederick; and my idea of a modest girl is that
when certain topics are mentioned she should swoon. Swoon, madam,
swoon. They always did it when I was a lad.

ROSE.

Well, father, I've often tried to faint when I wanted something that you
wouldn't give me, and I've never been able to manage it. So I'm sure I
couldn't swoon.

ADMIRAL.

And with regard to this ridiculous discussion as to which University
your son is to be sent, you seem to forget that I have the right to be
consulted.

GERALD.

My dear Admiral, I don't see how it can possibly matter to you.

ADMIRAL.

And before we go any further I should like you to know that the very day
Rose was born I determined that her son should go to Cambridge.

ROSE.

My dear papa, I think Gerald and I are far and away the best judges of
our son's welfare.

ADMIRAL.

The boy must work, Rose. I will have no good-for-nothing as my grandson.

GERALD.

Exactly. And that is why I'm resolved he shall go to Dublin.

ROSE.

The important thing is that he should have really nice manners, and that
they teach at Oxford if they teach nothing else.

LADY FREDERICK.

Well, don't you think you'd better wait another twenty years or so
before you discuss this?

ADMIRAL.

There are some matters which must be settled at once, Lady Frederick.

LADY FREDERICK.

You know, young things are fairly independent nowadays. I don't know
what they'll be in twenty years' time.

GERALD.

The first thing the boy shall learn is obedience.

ROSE. Certainly. There's nothing so hateful as a disobedient child.

ADMIRAL.

I can't see my grandson venturing to disobey me.

LADY FREDERICK.

Then you're all agreed. So that's settled. I came to tell you your
carriage was ready.

ADMIRAL.

Go and put on your bonnet, Rose. [_To_ LADY FREDERICK.] Are you coming
with us?

LADY FREDERICK.

I'm afraid I can't. Au revoir.

ADMIRAL.

A tout à l'heure.

            [_He and_ ROSE _go out_.

GERALD.

Have you ever seen in your life any one so entirely delightful as Rose?

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Laughing._] Only when I've looked in the glass.

GERALD.

My dear Elizabeth, how vain you are.

LADY FREDERICK.

You're very happy, my Gerald.

GERALD.

It's such a relief to have got over all the difficulties. I thought it
never would come right. You are a brick, Elizabeth.

LADY FREDERICK.

I really think I am rather.

GERALD.

The moment you promised to arrange things I felt as safe as a house.

LADY FREDERICK.

I said I'd do my best, didn't I? And I told you not to worry.

GERALD.

[_Turning round suddenly._] Isn't it all right?

LADY FREDERICK.

No, it's about as wrong as it can possibly be. I knew Cohen was staying
here, and I thought I could get him to hold the bills over for a few
days.

GERALD.

And won't he?

LADY FREDERICK.

He hasn't got them any more.

GERALD.

[_Startled._] What!

LADY FREDERICK.

They've been negotiated, and he swears he doesn't know who has them.

GERALD.

But who could have been such a fool?

LADY FREDERICK.

I don't know, that's just the awful part of it. It was bad enough
before. I knew the worst Cohen could do, but now.... It couldn't be
Paradine.

GERALD.

And then there's Montgomerie.

LADY FREDERICK.

I shall see him to-day.

GERALD.

What are you going to say to him?

LADY FREDERICK.

I haven't an idea. I'm rather frightened of him.

GERALD.

You know, dear, if the worst comes to the worst....

LADY FREDERICK.

Whatever happens you shall marry Rose. I promise you that.

            [PARADINE FOULDES _appears_.

FOULDES.

May I come in?

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Gaily._] It's a public room. I don't see how we can possibly prevent
you.

GERALD.

I'm just going to take a stroll.

LADY FREDERICK.

Do.

            [_He goes out._

FOULDES.

Well? How are things going?

LADY FREDERICK.

Quite well, thank you.

FOULDES.

I've left Charlie with his mother. I hope you can spare him for a couple
of hours.

LADY FREDERICK.

I told him he must spend the afternoon with her. I don't approve of his
neglecting his filial duty.

FOULDES.

Ah!... I saw Dick Cohen this morning.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Quickly._] Did you?

FOULDES.

It seems to interest you?

LADY FREDERICK.

Not at all. Why should it?

FOULDES.

[_Smiling._] Nice little man, isn't he?

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Good humouredly._] I wish I had something to throw at you.

FOULDES.

[_With a laugh._] Well, I haven't got the confounded bills. I was too
late.

LADY FREDERICK.

Did you try?

FOULDES.

Oh--yes, I thought it would interest Charlie to know how extremely
needful it was for you to marry him.

LADY FREDERICK.

Then who on earth has got them?

FOULDES.

I haven't an idea, but they must make you very uncomfortable. Three
thousand five hundred, eh?

LADY FREDERICK.

Don't say it all at once. It sounds so much.

FOULDES.

You wouldn't like to exchange those letters of Mereston's for seven
thousand pounds, would you?

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Laughing._] No.

FOULDES.

Ah.... By the way, d'you mind if I tell Charlie the full story of
your--relations with me?

LADY FREDERICK.

Why should I? It's not I who'll look ridiculous.

FOULDES.

Thanks. I may avail myself of your permission.

LADY FREDERICK.

I daresay you've noticed that Charlie has a very keen sense of humour.

FOULDES.

If you're going to be disagreeable to me I shall go. [_He stops._] I
say, are you quite sure there's nothing else that can be brought up
against you?

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Laughing._] Quite sure, thanks.

FOULDES.

My sister's very jubilant to-day. What about the Bellingham affair?

LADY FREDERICK.

Merely scandal, my friend.

FOULDES.

Well, look out. She's a woman, and she'll stick at nothing.

LADY FREDERICK.

I wonder why you warn me.

FOULDES.

For the sake of old times, my dear.

LADY FREDERICK.

You're growing sentimental, Paradine. It's the punishment which the gods
inflict on a cynic when he grows old.

FOULDES.

It may be, but for the life of me I can't forget that once----

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Interrupting._] My dear friend, don't rake up my lamentable past.

FOULDES.

I don't think I've met any one so entirely devoid of sentiment as you
are.

LADY FREDERICK.

Let us agree that I have every vice under the sun and have done with it.

            [_A_ SERVANT _comes in_.]

SERVANT.

Madame Claude wishes to see your ladyship.

LADY FREDERICK.

Oh, my dressmaker.

FOULDES.

Another bill?

LADY FREDERICK.

That's the worst of Monte. One meets as many creditors as in Bond
Street. Say I'm engaged.

SERVANT.

Madame Claude says she will wait till miladi is free.

FOULDES.

You make a mistake. One should always be polite to people whose bills
one can't pay.

LADY FREDERICK.

Show her in.

SERVANT.

Yes, miladi.

            [_Exit_ SERVANT.

FOULDES.

Is it a big one?

LADY FREDERICK.

Oh, no; only seven hundred pounds.

FOULDES.

By Jove.

LADY FREDERICK.

My dear friend, one must dress. I can't go about in fig-leaves.

FOULDES.

One can dress simply.

LADY FREDERICK.

I do. That's why it costs so much.

FOULDES.

You know, you're devilish extravagant.

LADY FREDERICK.

I'm not. I'm content with the barest necessities of existence.

FOULDES.

You've got a maid.

LADY FREDERICK.

Of course I've got a maid. I was never taught to dress myself.

FOULDES.

And you've got a footman.

LADY FREDERICK.

I've always had a footman. And my mother always had a footman. I
couldn't live a day without him.

FOULDES.

What does he do for you?

LADY FREDERICK.

He inspires confidence in tradesmen.

FOULDES.

And you have the most expensive suite of rooms in the hotel.

LADY FREDERICK.

I'm in such a dreadful mess. If I hadn't got nice rooms I should brood
over it.

FOULDES.

Then, as if that weren't enough, you fling your money away at the
tables.

LADY FREDERICK.

When you're as poor as I am, a few louis more or less can make
absolutely no difference.

FOULDES.

[_With a laugh._] You're quite incorrigible.

LADY FREDERICK.

It's really not my fault. I do try to be economical, but money slips
through my fingers like water. I can't help it.

FOULDES.

You want a sensible sort of a man to look after you.

LADY FREDERICK.

I want a very rich sort of a man to look after me.

FOULDES.

If you were my wife, I should advertise in the papers that I wasn't
responsible for your debts.

LADY FREDERICK.

If you were my husband, I'd advertise immediately underneath that I
wasn't responsible for your manners.

FOULDES.

I wonder why you're so reckless.

LADY FREDERICK.

When my husband was alive I was so utterly wretched. And afterwards,
when I looked forward to a little happiness, my boy died. Then I didn't
care any more. I did everything I could to stupefy myself. I squandered
money as other women take morphia--that's all.

FOULDES.

It's the same dear scatter-brained, good-hearted Betsy that I used to
know.

LADY FREDERICK.

You're the only person who calls me Betsy now. To all the others I'm
only Elizabeth.

FOULDES.

Look here, what are you going to do with this dressmaker?

LADY FREDERICK.

I don't know. I always trust to the inspiration of the moment.

FOULDES.

She'll make a devil of a fuss, won't she?

LADY FREDERICK.

Oh, no; I shall be quite nice to her.

FOULDES.

I daresay. But won't she be very disagreeable to you?

LADY FREDERICK.

You don't know what a way I have with my creditors.

FOULDES.

I know it's not a paying way.

LADY FREDERICK.

Isn't it? I bet you a hundred louis that I offer her the money and she
refuses it.

FOULDES.

I'll take that.

LADY FREDERICK.

Here she is.

            [MADAME CLAUDE _enters, ushered in by the_
            SERVANT. _She is a stout, genteel person,
            very splendidly gowned, with a Cockney
            accent. Her face is set to sternness, decision
            to make a scene, and general sourness._

SERVANT.

Madame Claude.

            [_Exit_ SERVANT. LADY FREDERICK _goes up to
            her enthusiastically and takes both her
            hands_.

LADY FREDERICK.

Best of women. This is a joyful surprise.

MADAME CLAUDE.

[_Drawing herself up._] I 'eard quite by chance that your ladyship was
at Monte.

LADY FREDERICK.

So you came to see me at once. That was nice of you. You're the very
person I wanted to see.

MADAME CLAUDE.

[_Significantly._] I'm glad of that, my lady, I must confess.

LADY FREDERICK.

You dear creature. That's one advantage of Monte Carlo, one meets all
one's friends. Do you know Mr. Fouldes? This is Madame Claude, an
artist, my dear Paradine, a real artist.

MADAME CLAUDE.

[_Grimly._] I'm pleased that your ladyship should think so.

FOULDES.

How d'you do.

LADY FREDERICK.

Now, this gown. Look, look, look. In this skirt there's genius, _mon
cher_. In the way it hangs my whole character is expressed. Observe the
fullness of it, that indicates those admirable virtues which make me an
ornament to Society, while the frill at the bottom just suggests those
foibles--you can hardly call them faults--which add a certain grace and
interest to my personality. And the flounce. Paradine, I beseech you to
look at it carefully. I would sooner have designed this flounce than won
the Battle of Waterloo.

MADAME CLAUDE.

Your ladyship is very kind.

LADY FREDERICK.

Not at all, not at all. You remember that rose chiffon. I wore it the
other day, and the dear Archduchess came up to me and said: "My dear, my
dear." I thought she was going to have a fit. But when she recovered she
kissed me on both cheeks and said: "Lady Frederick, you have a
dressmaker worth her weight in gold." You heard her, Paradine, didn't
you?

FOULDES.

You forget that I only arrived last night.

LADY FREDERICK.

Of course. How stupid of me. She'll be perfectly delighted to hear that
you're in Monte Carlo. But I shall have to break it to her gently.

MADAME CLAUDE.

[_Unmoved._] I'm sorry to intrude upon your ladyship.

LADY FREDERICK.

Now what are you talking about? If you hadn't come to see me I should
never have forgiven you.

MADAME CLAUDE.

I wanted to have a little talk with your ladyship.

LADY FREDERICK.

Oh, but I hope we shall have many little talks. Have you brought your
motor down?

MADAME CLAUDE.

Yes.

LADY FREDERICK.

That's charming. You shall take me for a drive in it every day. I hope
you're going to stay some time.

MADAME CLAUDE.

That depends on circumstances, Lady Frederick. I 'ave a little business
to do here.

LADY FREDERICK.

Then let me give you one warning--don't gamble.

MADAME CLAUDE.

Oh, no, my lady. I gamble quite enough in my business as it is. I never
know when my customers will pay their bills--if ever.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Slightly taken aback._] Ha, ha, ha.

FOULDES.

[_With a deep guffaw._] Ho, ho, ho.

LADY FREDERICK.

Isn't she clever? I must tell that to the Archduchess. She'll be so
amused. Ha, ha, ha, ha. The dear Archduchess, you know she loves a
little joke. You must really meet her. Will you come and lunch? I know
you'd hit it off together.

MADAME CLAUDE.

[_More genially._] That's very kind of your ladyship.

LADY FREDERICK.

My dear, you know perfectly well that I've always looked upon you as one
of my best friends. Now who shall we have? There's you and me and the
Archduchess. Then I'll ask Lord Mereston.

MADAME CLAUDE.

The Marquess of Mereston, Lady Frederick?

LADY FREDERICK.

Yes. And Mr. Fouldes, his uncle.

MADAME CLAUDE.

Excuse me, are you the Mr. Paradine Fouldes?

FOULDES.

[_Bowing._] At your service, madam.

MADAME CLAUDE.

I'm so glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Fouldes. [_Unctuously._] I've
always heard you're such a bad man.

FOULDES.

Madam, you overwhelm me with confusion.

MADAME CLAUDE.

Believe me, Mr. Fouldes, it's not the ladies that are married to saints
who take the trouble to dress well.

LADY FREDERICK.

Now we want a third man. Shall we ask my brother--you know Sir Gerald
O'Mara, don't you? Or shall we ask Prince Doniani? Yes, I think we'll
ask the Prince. I'm sure you'd like him. Such a handsome man! That'll
make six.

MADAME CLAUDE.

It's very kind of you, Lady Frederick, but--well, I'm only a
tradeswoman, you know.

LADY FREDERICK.

A tradeswoman? How can you talk such nonsense. You are an artist--a real
artist, my dear. And an artist is fit to meet a king.

MADAME CLAUDE.

Well, I don't deny that I'd be ashamed to dress my customers in the
gowns I see painted at the Royal Academy.

LADY FREDERICK.

Then it's quite settled, isn't it, Madame Claude--oh, may I call you
Ada?

MADAME CLAUDE.

Oh, Lady Frederick, I should be very much flattered. But how did you
know that was my name?

LADY FREDERICK.

Why you wrote me a letter only the other day.

MADAME CLAUDE.

Did I?

LADY FREDERICK.

And such a cross letter too.

MADAME CLAUDE.

[_Apologetically._] Oh, but Lady Frederick, that was only in the way of
business. I don't exactly remember what expressions I may have made use
of----

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Interrupting, as if the truth had suddenly flashed across her._] Ada!
I do believe you came here to-day about my account.

MADAME CLAUDE.

Oh, no, my lady, I promise you.

LADY FREDERICK.

You did; I know you did. I see it in your face. Now that really wasn't
nice of you. I thought you came as a friend.

MADAME CLAUDE.

I did, Lady Frederick.

LADY FREDERICK.

No, you wanted to dun me. I'm disappointed in you. I did think, after
all the things I've had from you, you wouldn't treat me like that.

MADAME CLAUDE.

But I assure your ladyship....

LADY FREDERICK.

Not another word. You came to ask for a cheque. You shall have it.

MADAME CLAUDE.

No, Lady Frederick, I wouldn't take it.

LADY FREDERICK.

What is the exact figure, Madame Claude?

MADAME CLAUDE.

I--I don't remember.

LADY FREDERICK.

Seven hundred and fifty pounds, seventeen and ninepence. You see, I
remember. You came for your cheque and you shall have it.

            [_She sits down and takes a pen._

MADAME CLAUDE.

Now, Lady Frederick, I should look upon that as most unkind. It's
treating me like a very second-rate establishment.

LADY FREDERICK.

I'm sorry, but you should have thought of that before. Now I haven't got
a cheque; how tiresome.

MADAME CLAUDE.

Oh, it doesn't matter, Lady Frederick. I promise you it never entered my
'ead.

LADY FREDERICK.

What shall I do?

FOULDES.

You can write it on a sheet of paper, you know.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_With a look, aside to him._] Monster! [_Aloud._] Of course I can. I
hadn't thought of that. [_She takes a sheet of paper._] But how on earth
am I to get a stamp?

FOULDES.

[_Much amused._] I happen to have one on me.

LADY FREDERICK.

I wonder why on earth you should have English stamps in Monte Carlo?

FOULDES.

[_Handing her one._] A penny stamp may sometimes save one a hundred
louis.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Ironically._] Thanks so much. I write the name of my bank on the top,
don't I? Pay Madame Claude....

MADAME CLAUDE.

Now, it's no good, Lady Frederick, I won't take it. After all I 'ave my
self-respect to think of.

LADY FREDERICK.

It's too late now.

MADAME CLAUDE.

[_Sniffing a little._] No, no, Lady Frederick. Don't be too 'ard on me.
As one lady to another I ask you to forgive me. I did come about my
account, but--well, I don't want the money.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Looking up good-humouredly._] Well, well. [_She looks at the cheque._]
It shall be as you wish. There. [_She tears it up._]

MADAME CLAUDE.

Oh, thank you, Lady Frederick. I look upon that as a real favour. And
now I really must be getting off.

LADY FREDERICK.

Must you go? Well, good-bye. Paradine, take Madame Claude to her motor.
Ada!

            [_She kisses her on the cheek._

MADAME CLAUDE.

[_Going._] I am pleased to have seen you.

            [PARADINE _offers his arm and goes out with_
            MADAME CLAUDE. LADY FREDERICK _goes
            to the window, stands on a chair and waves
            her handkerchief. While she is doing this_
            CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE _enters_.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

How d'you do?

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Getting down._] How nice of you to come. I wanted to see you.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

May I sit down?

LADY FREDERICK.

Of course. There are one or two things I'd like to talk to you about.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

Yes?

LADY FREDERICK.

First I must thank you for your great kindness to Gerald. I didn't know
last night that he owed you a good deal of money.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

It's a mere trifle.

LADY FREDERICK.

You must be very rich to call nine hundred pounds that?

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

I am.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_With a laugh._] All the same it's extremely good of you to give him
plenty of time.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

I told Gerald he could have till to-morrow.

LADY FREDERICK.

Obviously he wants to settle with you as soon as ever he can.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

[_Quietly._] I often wonder why gambling debts are known as debts of
honour.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Looking at him steadily._] Of course I realise that if you choose to
press for the money and Gerald can't pay--he'll have to send in his
papers.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

[_Lightly._] You may be quite sure I have no wish to bring about such a
calamity. By the way, have you thought over our little talk of last
night?

LADY FREDERICK.

No.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

You would have been wise to do so.

LADY FREDERICK.

My dear Captain Montgomerie, you really can't expect me to marry you
because my brother has been so foolish as to lose more money at poker
than he can afford.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

Did you ever hear that my father was a money-lender?

LADY FREDERICK.

A lucrative profession, I believe.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

He found it so. He was a Polish Jew called Aaron Levitzki. He came to
this country with three shillings in his pocket. He lent half-a-crown of
it to a friend on the condition that he should be paid back seven and
six in three days.

LADY FREDERICK.

I'm not good at figures, but the interest sounds rather high.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

It is. That was one of my father's specialities. From these humble
beginnings his business grew to such proportions that at his death he
was able to leave me the name and arms of the great family of
Montgomerie and something over a million of money.

LADY FREDERICK.

The result of thrift, industry, and good fortune.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

My father was able to gratify all his ambitions but one. He was eaten up
with the desire to move in good society, and this he was never able to
achieve. His dying wish was that I should live in those circles which he
knew only....

LADY FREDERICK.

Across the counter?

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

Precisely. But my poor father was a little ignorant in these matters. To
him one lord was as good as another. He thought a Marquess a finer man
than an Earl, and a Viscount than a Baron. He would never have
understood that a penniless Irish baronet might go into better society
than many a belted earl.

LADY FREDERICK.

And what is the application of this?

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

I wanted to explain to you one of the reasons which emboldened me last
night to make you a proposal of marriage.

LADY FREDERICK.

But surely you know some very nice people. I saw you lunching the other
day with the widow of a city knight.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

Many very excellent persons are glad to have me to dine with them. But I
know quite well that they're not the real article. I'm as far off as
ever from getting into those houses which you have been used to all your
life. I'm not content with third-rate earls and rather seedy dowagers.

LADY FREDERICK.

Forgive my frankness, but--aren't you rather a snob?

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

My father, Aaron Levitzki, married an English woman, and I have all the
English virtues.

LADY FREDERICK.

But I'm not quite sure that people would swallow you even as my
husband.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

They'd make a face, but they'd swallow me right enough. And when I asked
them down to the best shoot in England they'd come to the conclusion
that I agreed with them very well.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Still rather amused._] Your offer is eminently businesslike, but you
see I'm not a business woman. It doesn't appeal to me.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

I only ask you to perform such of the duties of a wife as are required
by Society. They are few enough in all conscience. I should wish you to
entertain largely and receive my guests, be polite to me, at least in
public, and go with me to the various places people go to. Otherwise I
leave you entire freedom. You will find me generous and heedful to all
your wishes.

LADY FREDERICK.

Captain Montgomerie, I don't know how much of all that you have said is
meant seriously. But, surely you're not choosing the right time to make
such a proposal when my brother owes you so much money that if you care
to be hard you can ruin him.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

Why not?

LADY FREDERICK.

D'you mean to say ...?

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

I will be quite frank with you. I should never have allowed Gerald to
lose so much money which there was no likelihood of his being able to
pay, if I had not thought it earned me some claim upon your gratitude.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Shortly._] Gerald will pay every penny he owes you to-morrow.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

[_Blandly._] Where d'you suppose he'll get it?

LADY FREDERICK.

I have no doubt I shall be able to manage something.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

Have you not tried this morning, entirely without success?

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Startled._] What?

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

You do not forget that you have sundry moneys of your own which are
payable to-morrow?

LADY FREDERICK.

How d'you know that?

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

I told you that when I took a thing in hand I carried it through. You
went to Dick Cohen, and he told you he'd parted with the bills. Didn't
you guess that only one man could have the least interest in taking them
over?

LADY FREDERICK.

You?

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

Yes.

LADY FREDERICK.

Oh, God.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

Come, come, don't be worried over it. There's nothing to be alarmed
about. I'm a very decent chap--if you'd accepted me right away you would
never have known that those bills were in my possession. Think it over
once more. I'm sure we should get on well together. I can give you what
you most need, money and the liberty to fling it away as recklessly as
you choose; you can give me the assured and fixed position on which--my
father's heart was set.

LADY FREDERICK.

And if I don't accept, you'll make me a bankrupt and you'll ruin Gerald?

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

I refuse to consider that very unpleasant alternative.

LADY FREDERICK.

Oh! I can't, I can't.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

[_Laughing._] But you must, you must. When shall I come for your answer?
To-morrow? I'll come with the bills and Gerald's I.O.U. in my pocket,
and you shall burn them yourself. Good-bye.

            [_He kisses her hand and goes out._ LADY
            FREDERICK _remains staring in front of
            her_. MERESTON _enters, followed by_ LADY
            MERESTON _and_ PARADINE.

MERESTON.

[_Going to her eagerly._] Hulloa! I wondered what on earth had become of
you.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_With a laugh._] It's only two hours since I chased you away from me.

MERESTON.

I'm afraid I bore you to death.

LADY FREDERICK.

Don't be so silly. You know you don't.

MERESTON.

Where are you going now?

LADY FREDERICK.

I have rather a headache. I'm going to lie down.

MERESTON.

I'm so sorry.

            [LADY FREDERICK _goes out_. MERESTON _stares
            after her anxiously, and makes a step
            towards the door_.

LADY MERESTON.

[_Sharply._] Where are you going, Charlie?

MERESTON.

I never asked Lady Frederick if I could do anything.

LADY MERESTON.

Good heavens, there are surely plenty of servants in the hotel to get
her anything she wants.

MERESTON.

Don't you think a drive in the motor would do her good?

LADY MERESTON.

[_Unable to control herself._] Oh, I have no patience with you. I never
saw such a ridiculous infatuation in my life.

PARADINE.

Steady, old girl, steady.

MERESTON.

What on earth d'you mean, mother?

LADY MERESTON.

Presumably you're not going to deny that you're in love with that woman.

MERESTON.

[_Growing pale._] Would you mind speaking of her as Lady Frederick?

LADY MERESTON.

You try me very much, Charlie. Please answer my question.

MERESTON.

I don't want to seem unkind to you, mother, but I think you have no
right to ask about my private affairs.

FOULDES.

If you're going to talk this matter over you're more likely to come to
an understanding if you both keep your tempers.

MERESTON.

There's nothing I wish to discuss.

LADY MERESTON.

Don't be absurd, Charlie. You're with Lady Frederick morning, noon and
night. She can never stir a yard from the hotel but you go flying after.
You pester her with your ridiculous attentions.

FOULDES.

[_Blandly._] One's relations have always such an engaging frankness.
Like a bad looking-glass, they always represent you with a crooked nose
and a cast in your eye.

LADY MERESTON.

[_To_ MERESTON.] I have certainly a right to know what you mean by all
this and what is going to come of it.

MERESTON.

I don't know what will come of it.

FOULDES.

The question that excites our curiosity is this: are you going to ask
Lady Frederick to marry you?

MERESTON.

I refuse to answer that. It seems to me excessively impertinent.

FOULDES.

Come, come, my boy, you're too young to play the heavy father. We're
both your friends. Hadn't you better make a clean breast of it? After
all, your mother and I are interested in nothing so much as your
welfare.

LADY MERESTON.

[_Imploring._] Charlie!

MERESTON.

Of course I'd ask her to marry me if I thought for a moment that she'd
accept. But I'm so terrified that she'll refuse, and then perhaps I
shall never see her again.

LADY MERESTON.

The boy's stark, staring mad.

MERESTON.

I don't know what I should do if she sent me about my business. I'd
rather continue in this awful uncertainty than lose all hope for ever.

FOULDES.

By George. You're pretty far gone, my son. The lover who's diffident is
in a much worse way than the lover who protests.

LADY MERESTON.

[_With a little laugh._] I must say it amuses me that Lady Frederick
should have had both my brother and my son dangling at her skirts. Your
respective passions are separated by quite a number of years.

MERESTON.

Lady Frederick has already told me of that incident.

FOULDES.

With the usual indiscretion of her sex.

MERESTON.

It appears that she was very unhappy and you, with questionable taste,
made love to her.

FOULDES.

Do your best not to preach at me, dear boy. It reminds me of your
lamented father.

MERESTON.

And at last she promised to go away with you. You were to meet at
Waterloo Station.

FOULDES.

Such a draughty place for an assignation.

MERESTON.

Your train was to start at nine, and you were going to take the boat
over to the Channel Isles.

FOULDES.

Lady Frederick has a very remarkable memory. I remember hoping the sea
wouldn't be rough.

MERESTON.

And just as the train was starting her eye fell on the clock. At that
moment her child was coming down to breakfast and would ask for her.
Before you could stop her she'd jumped out of the carriage. The train
was moving, and you couldn't get out, so you were taken on to
Weymouth--alone.

LADY MERESTON.

You must have felt a quite egregious ass, Paradine.

FOULDES.

I did, but you need not rub it in.

LADY MERESTON.

Doesn't it occur to you, Charlie, that a woman who loves so easily can't
be very worthy of your affection?

MERESTON.

But, my dear mother, d'you think she cared for my uncle?

FOULDES.

What the dickens d'you mean?

MERESTON.

D'you suppose if she loved you she would have hesitated to come? D'you
know her so little as that? She thought of her child only because she
was quite indifferent to you.

FOULDES.

[_Crossly._] You know nothing about it, and you're an impertinent young
jackanapes.

LADY MERESTON.

My dear Paradine, what can it matter if Lady Frederick was in love with
you or not?

FOULDES.

[_Calming down._] Of course it doesn't matter a bit.

LADY MERESTON.

I have no doubt you mistook wounded vanity for a broken heart.

FOULDES.

[_Acidly._] My dear, you sometimes say things which explain to me why my
brother-in-law so frequently abandoned his own fireside for the platform
of Exeter Hall.

MERESTON.

It may also interest you to learn that I am perfectly aware of Lady
Frederick's financial difficulties. I know she has two bills falling due
to-morrow.

FOULDES.

She's a very clever woman.

MERESTON.

I've implored her to let me lend her the money, and she absolutely
refuses. You see, she's kept nothing from me at all.

LADY MERESTON.

My dear Charlie, it's a very old dodge to confess what doesn't matter in
order to conceal what does.

MERESTON.

What do you mean, mother?

LADY MERESTON.

Lady Frederick has told you nothing of the Bellingham affair?

MERESTON.

Why should she?

LADY MERESTON.

It is surely expedient you should know that the woman you have some idea
of marrying escaped the divorce court only by the skin of her teeth.

MERESTON.

I don't believe that, mother.

FOULDES.

Remember that you're talking to your respected parent, my boy.

MERESTON.

I'm sorry that my mother should utter base and contemptible libels
on--my greatest friend.

LADY MERESTON.

You may be quite sure that I say nothing which I can't prove.

MERESTON.

I won't listen to anything against Lady Frederick.

LADY MERESTON.

But you must.

MERESTON.

Are you quite indifferent to the great pain you cause me?

LADY MERESTON.

I can't allow you to marry a woman who's hopelessly immoral.

MERESTON.

Mother, how dare you say that?

FOULDES.

This isn't the sort of thing I much like, but hadn't you better hear the
worst at once?

MERESTON.

Very well. But if my mother insists on saying things, she must say them
in Lady Frederick's presence.

LADY MERESTON.

That I'm quite willing to do.

MERESTON.

Good.

            [_He rings the bell. A servant enters._

FOULDES.

You'd better take care, Maudie. Lady Frederick's a dangerous woman to
play the fool with.

MERESTON.

[_To the servant._] Go to Lady Frederick Berolles and say Lord Mereston
is extremely sorry to trouble her ladyship, but would be very much
obliged if she'd come to the drawing-room for two minutes.

SERVANT.

Very well, my lord.

            [_Exit._

FOULDES.

What are you going to do, Maud?

LADY MERESTON.

I knew there was a letter in existence in Lady Frederick's handwriting
which proved all I've said about her. I've moved heaven and earth to get
hold of it, and it came this morning.

FOULDES.

Don't be such a fool. You're not going to use that?

LADY MERESTON.

I am indeed.

FOULDES.

Your blood be upon your own head. Unless I'm vastly mistaken you'll
suffer the greatest humiliation that you can imagine.

LADY MERESTON.

That's absurd. I have nothing to fear.

LADY FREDERICK. _comes in._

MERESTON.

I'm so sorry to disturb you. I hope you don't mind?

LADY FREDERICK.

Not at all. I knew you wouldn't have sent for me in that fashion without
good cause.

MERESTON.

I'm afraid you'll think me dreadfully impertinent.

LADY MERESTON.

Really you need not apologise so much, Charlie.

MERESTON.

My mother has something to say against you, and I think it right that
she should say it in your presence.

LADY FREDERICK.

That's very nice of you, Charlie--though I confess I prefer people to
say horrid things of me only behind my back. Especially if they're true.

FOULDES.

Look here, I think all this is rather nonsense. We've most of us got
something in our past history that we don't want raked up, and we'd all
better let bygones be bygones.

LADY FREDERICK.

I'm waiting, Lady Mereston.

LADY MERESTON.

It's merely that I thought my son should know that Lady Frederick had
been the mistress of Roger Bellingham. [LADY FREDERICK _turns quickly
and looks at her_; _then bursts into a peal of laughter_. LADY MERESTON
_springs up angrily and hands her a letter_.] Is this in your
handwriting?

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Not at all disconcerted._] Dear me, how did you get hold of this?

LADY MERESTON.

You see that I have ample proof, Lady Frederick.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Handing the letter to_ MERESTON.] Would you like to read it? You know
my writing well enough to be able to answer Lady Mereston's question.

            [_He reads it through and looks at her in dismay._

MERESTON.

Good God!... What does it mean?

LADY FREDERICK.

Pray read it aloud.

MERESTON.

I can't.

LADY FREDERICK.

Then give it to me. [_She takes it from him._] It's addressed to my
brother-in-law, Peter Berolles. The Kate to whom it refers was his wife.
[_Reads._] Dear Peter: I'm sorry you should have had a row with Kate
about Roger Bellingham. You are quite wrong in all you thought. There is
absolutely nothing between them. I don't know where Kate was on Tuesday
night, but certainly she was not within a hundred miles of Roger. This I
know because....

MERESTON.

[_Interrupting._] For God's sake don't go on.

            [LADY FREDERICK _looks at him and shrugs her
            shoulders_.

LADY FREDERICK.

It's signed Elizabeth Berolles. And there's a postscript: You may make
what use of this letter you like.

MERESTON.

What does it mean? What does it mean?

LADY MERESTON.

Surely it's very clear? You can't want a more explicit confession of
guilt.

LADY FREDERICK.

I tried to make it as explicit as possible.

LADY MERESTON.

Won't you say something? I'm sure there must be some explanation.

LADY FREDERICK.

I don't know how you got hold of this letter, Lady Mereston. I agree
with you, it is compromising. But Kate and Peter are dead now, and
there's nothing to prevent me from telling the truth.

            [PARADINE FOULDES _takes a step forward and
            watches her_.

LADY FREDERICK.

My sister-in-law was a meek and mild little person, as demure as you can
imagine, and no one would have suspected her for a moment of kicking
over the traces. Well, one morning she came to me in floods of tears and
confessed that she and Roger Bellingham [_with a shrug_] had been
foolish. Her husband suspected that something was wrong and had kicked
up a row.

FOULDES.

[_Drily._] There are men who will make a scene on the smallest
provocation.

LADY FREDERICK.

To shield herself she told the first lie that came into her head. She
said to Peter that Roger Bellingham was my lover--and she threw herself
on my mercy. She was a poor, weak little creature, and if there'd been a
scandal she'd have gone to the dogs altogether. It had only been a
momentary infatuation for Roger, and the scare had cured her. At the
bottom of her heart she loved her husband still. I was desperately
unhappy, and I didn't care much what became of me. She promised to turn
over a new leaf and all that sort of thing. I thought I'd better give
her another chance of going straight. I did what she wanted. I wrote
that letter taking all the blame on myself, and Kate lived happily with
her husband till she died.

MERESTON.

It was just like you.

LADY MERESTON.

But Lord and Lady Peter are dead?

LADY FREDERICK.

Yes.

LADY MERESTON.

And Roger Bellingham?

LADY FREDERICK.

He's dead too.

LADY MERESTON.

Then how can you prove your account of this affair?

LADY FREDERICK.

I can't.

LADY MERESTON.

And does this convince you, Charlie?

MERESTON.

Of course.

LADY MERESTON.

[_Impatiently._] Good heavens, the boy's out of his senses. Paradine,
for Heaven's sake say something.

FOULDES.

Well, much as it may displease you, my dear, I'm afraid I agree with
Charlie.

LADY MERESTON.

You don't mean to say you believe this cock-and-bull story?

FOULDES.

I do.

LADY MERESTON.

Why?

FOULDES.

Well, you see, Lady Frederick's a very clever woman. She would never
have invented such an utterly improbable tale, which can't possibly be
proved. If she'd been guilty, she'd have had ready at least a dozen
proofs of her innocence.

LADY MERESTON.

But that's absurd.

FOULDES.

Besides, I've known Lady Frederick a long time, and she has at least a
thousand faults.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_With flashing eyes._] Thanks.

FOULDES.

But there's something I will say for her. She's not a liar. If she tells
me a thing, I don't hesitate for a moment to believe it.

LADY FREDERICK.

It's not a matter of the smallest importance if any of you believe me or
not. Be so good as to ring, Charlie.

MERESTON.

Certainly.

            [_He rings, and a_ SERVANT _immediately comes in_.

LADY FREDERICK.

Tell my servant that he's to come here at once and bring the
despatch-box which is in my dressing-room.

SERVANT.

Yes, miladi.

            [_Exit._

FOULDES.

[_Quickly._] I say, what are you going to do?

LADY FREDERICK.

That is absolutely no business of yours.

FOULDES.

Be a brick, Betsy, and don't give her those letters.

LADY FREDERICK.

I think I've had enough of this business. I'm proposing to finish with
it.

FOULDES.

Temper, temper.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Stamping her foot._] Don't say temper to me, Paradine.

            [_She walks up and down angrily._ PARADINE
            _sits at the piano and with one finger strums
            "Rule Britannia."_

MERESTON.

Shut up.

            [_He takes a book, flings it at his head and
            misses._

FOULDES.

Good shot, sir.

LADY FREDERICK.

I often wonder how you got your reputation for wit, Paradine.

FOULDES.

By making a point of laughing heartily at other people's jokes.

            [_The_ FOOTMAN _enters with the despatch-box,
            which_ LADY FREDERICK _opens. She takes
            a bundle of letters from it._

FOULDES.

Betsy, Betsy, for heaven's sake don't! Have mercy.

LADY FREDERICK.

Was mercy shown to me? Albert!

FOOTMAN.

Yes, miladi.

LADY FREDERICK.

You'll go to the proprietor of the hotel and tell him that I propose to
leave Monte Carlo to-morrow.

MERESTON.

[_Aghast._] Are you going?

FOOTMAN.

Very well, my lady.

LADY FREDERICK.

Have you a good memory for faces?

FOOTMAN.

Yes, my lady.

LADY FREDERICK.

You're not likely to forget Lord Mereston?

FOOTMAN.

No, my lady.

LADY FREDERICK.

Then please take note that if his lordship calls upon me in London I'm
not at home.

MERESTON.

Lady Frederick!

LADY FREDERICK.

[_To_ FOOTMAN.] Go.

            [_Exit_ FOOTMAN.

MERESTON.

What d'you mean? What have I done?

            [_Without answering_ LADY FREDERICK _takes
            the letters_. PARADINE _is watching her
            anxiously. She goes up to the stove and
            throws them in one by one._

LADY MERESTON.

What on earth is she doing?

LADY FREDERICK.

I have some letters here which would ruin the happiness of a very
worthless woman I know. I'm burning them so that I may never have the
temptation to use them.

FOULDES.

I never saw anything so melodramatic.

LADY FREDERICK.

Hold your tongue, Paradine. [_Turning to_ MERESTON.] My dear Charlie, I
came to Monte Carlo to be amused. Your mother has persecuted me
incessantly. Your uncle--is too well-bred to talk to his servants as he
has talked to me. I've been pestered in one way and another, and
insulted till my blood boiled, because apparently they're afraid you may
want to marry me. I'm sick and tired of it. I'm not used to treatment of
this sort; my patience is quite exhausted. And since you are the cause
of the whole thing I have an obvious remedy. I would much rather not
have anything more to do with you. If we meet one another in the street
you need not trouble to look my way because I shall cut you dead.

LADY MERESTON.

[_In an undertone._] Thank God for that.

MERESTON.

Mother, mother. [_To_ LADY FREDERICK.] I'm awfully sorry. I feel that
you have a right to be angry. For all that you've suffered I beg your
pardon most humbly. My mother has said and done things which I regret to
say are quite unjustifiable.

LADY MERESTON.

Charlie!

MERESTON.

On her behalf and on mine I apologise with all my heart.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Smiling._] Don't take it too seriously. It really doesn't matter. But
I think it's far wiser that we shouldn't see one another again.

MERESTON.

But I can't live without you.

LADY MERESTON.

[_With a gasp._] Ah!

MERESTON.

Don't you know that my whole happiness is wrapped up in you? I love you
with all my heart and soul. I can never love any one but you.

FOULDES.

[_To_ LADY MERESTON.] Now you've done it. You've done it very neatly.

MERESTON.

Don't think me a presumptuous fool. I've been wanting to say this ever
since I knew you, but I haven't dared. You're brilliant and charming and
fascinating, but I have nothing whatever to offer you.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Gently._] My dear Charlie.

MERESTON.

But if you can overlook my faults, I daresay you could make something of
me. Won't you marry me? I should look upon it as a great honour, and I
would love you always to the end of my life. I'd try to be worthy of my
great happiness and you.

LADY FREDERICK.

You're very much too modest, Charlie. I'm enormously flattered and
grateful. You must give me time to think it over.

LADY MERESTON.

Time?

MERESTON.

But I can't wait. Don't you see how I love you? You'll never meet any
one who'll care for you as I do.

LADY FREDERICK.

I think you can wait a little. Come and see me to-morrow morning at ten,
and I'll give you an answer.

MERESTON.

Very well, if I must.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Smiling._] I'm afraid so.

FOULDES.

[_To_ LADY FREDERICK.] I wonder what the deuce your little game is now.

            [_She smiles triumphantly and gives him a deep,
            ironical curtsey._

LADY FREDERICK.

Sir, your much obliged and very obedient, humble servant.


END OF THE SECOND ACT.




THIRD ACT


     SCENE: LADY FREDERICK'S _dressing-room. At the back is a large
     opening, curtained, which leads to the bedroom; on the right a door
     leading to the passage; on the left a window. In front of the
     window, of which the blind is drawn, is a dressing-table._ LADY
     FREDERICK'S _maid is in the room, a very neat pretty Frenchwoman.
     She speaks with a slight accent. She rings the bell, and the_
     FOOTMAN _enters_.


MAID.

As soon as Lord Mereston arrives he is to be shown in.

FOOTMAN.

[_Surprised._] Here?

MAID.

Where else?

            [_The_ FOOTMAN _winks significantly. The_ MAID
            _draws herself up with dignity, and with a
            dramatic gesture points to the door_.

MAID.

Depart.

            [_The_ FOOTMAN _goes out_.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_From the bedroom._] Have you drawn the blind, Angélique?

MAID.

I will do so, miladi. [_She draws the blind, and the light falls
brightly on the dressing-table._] But miladi will never be able to stand
it. [_She looks at herself in the glass._] Oh, the light of the sun in
the morning! I cannot look at myself.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_As before._] There's no reason that you should--especially in my
glass.

MAID.

But if 'is lordship is coming, miladi must let me draw the blind. Oh, it
is impossible.

LADY FREDERICK.

Do as you're told and don't interfere.

            [_The_ FOOTMAN _enters to announce_ MERESTON.
            _The_ MAID _goes out._

FOOTMAN.

Lord Mereston.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_As before._] Is that you, Charlie? You're very punctual.

MERESTON.

I've been walking about outside till the clock struck.

LADY FREDERICK.

I'm not nearly dressed, you know. I've only just had my bath.

MERESTON.

Must I go?

LADY FREDERICK.

No, of course not. You can talk to me while I'm finishing.

MERESTON.

All right. How are you this morning?

LADY FREDERICK.

I don't know. I haven't looked at myself in the glass yet. How are you?

MERESTON.

A 1, thanks.

LADY FREDERICK.

Are you looking nice?

MERESTON.

[_Going to the glass._] I hope so. By Jove, what a strong light. You
must be pretty sure of your complexion to be able to stand that.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Appearing._] I am.

MERESTON.

[_Going forward eagerly._] Ah.

            [_She comes through the curtains. She wears a
            kimono, her hair is all dishevelled, hanging
            about her head in a tangled mop. She is
            not made up and looks haggard and yellow
            and lined. When_ MERESTON _sees her he
            gives a slight start of surprise. She plays
            the scene throughout with her broadest
            brogue._

LADY FREDERICK.

Good-morning.

MERESTON.

[_Staring at her in dismay._] Good-morning.

LADY FREDERICK.

Well, what have you to say to me?

MERESTON.

[_Embarrassed._] I--er--hope you slept all right.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Laughing._] Did you?

MERESTON.

I forget.

LADY FREDERICK.

I believe you slept like a top, Charlie. You really might have lain
awake and thought of me. What is the matter? You look as if you'd seen a
ghost.

MERESTON.

Oh no, not at all.

LADY FREDERICK.

You're not disappointed already?

MERESTON.

No, of course not. Only--you look so different with your hair not done.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_With a little cry._] Oh, I'd forgotten all about it. Angélique, come
and do my hair.

MAID.

[_Appearing._] Yes, miladi.

            [LADY FREDERICK _sits down at the dressing-table._

LADY FREDERICK.

Now, take pains, Angélique. I want to look my very best. Angélique is a
jewel of incalculable value.

MAID.

Miladi is very kind.

LADY FREDERICK.

If I'm light-hearted, she does it one way. If I'm depressed she does it
another.

MAID.

Oh, miladi, the perruquier who taught me said always that a good
hairdresser could express every mood and every passion of the human
heart.

LADY FREDERICK.

Good heavens, you don't mean to say you can do all that?

MAID.

Miladi, he said I was his best pupil.

LADY FREDERICK.

Very well. Express--express a great crisis in my affairs.

MAID.

That is the easiest thing in the world, miladi. I bring the hair rather
low on the forehead, and that expresses a crisis in her ladyship's
affairs.

LADY FREDERICK.

But I always wear my hair low on the forehead.

MAID.

Then it is plain her ladyship's affairs are always in a critical
condition.

LADY FREDERICK.

So they are. I never thought of that.

MERESTON.

You've got awfully stunning hair, Lady Frederick.

LADY FREDERICK.

D'you like it, really?

MERESTON.

The colour's perfectly beautiful.

LADY FREDERICK.

It ought to be. It's frightfully expensive.

MERESTON.

You don't mean to say it's dyed?

LADY FREDERICK.

Oh, no. Only touched up. That's quite a different thing.

MERESTON.

Is it?

LADY FREDERICK.

It's like superstition, you know, which is what other people believe. My
friends dye their hair, but I only touch mine up. Unfortunately, it
costs just as much.

MERESTON.

And you have such a lot.

LADY FREDERICK.

Oh, heaps. [_She opens a drawer and takes out a long switch._] Give him
a bit to look at.

MAID.

Yes, miladi.

            [_She gives it to him._

MERESTON.

Er--yes. [_Not knowing what on earth to say._] How silky it is.

LADY FREDERICK.

A poor thing, but mine own. At least, I paid for it. By the way, have I
paid for it yet, Angélique?

MAID.

Not yet, miladi. But the man can wait.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Taking it from_ MERESTON.] A poor thing, then, but my hairdresser's.
Shall I put it on?

MERESTON.

I wouldn't, if I were you.

MAID.

If her ladyship anticipates a tragic situation, I would venture to
recommend it. A really pathetic scene is impossible without a quantity
of hair worn quite high on the head.

LADY FREDERICK.

Oh, I know. Whenever I want to soften the hard heart of a creditor I
clap on every bit I've got. But I don't think I will to-day. I'll tell
you what, a temple curl would just fit the case.

MAID.

Then her ladyship inclines to comedy. Very well, I say no more.

            [LADY FREDERICK _takes two temple-curls from
            the drawer._

LADY FREDERICK.

Aren't they dears?

MERESTON.

Yes.

LADY FREDERICK.

You've admired them very often, Charlie, haven't you? I suppose you
never knew they cost a guinea each?

MERESTON.

It never occurred to me they were false.

LADY FREDERICK.

The masculine intelligence is so gross. Didn't your mother tell you?

MERESTON.

My mother told me a great deal.

LADY FREDERICK.

I expect she overdid it. There. Now that's done. D'you think it looks
nice?

MERESTON.

Charming.

LADY FREDERICK.

Angélique, his lordship is satisfied. You may disappear.

MAID.

Yes, miladi.

            [_She goes._

LADY FREDERICK.

Now, tell me you think I'm the most ravishing creature you ever saw in
your life.

MERESTON.

I've told you that so often.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Stretching out her hands._] You are a nice boy. It was charming of you
to say--what you did yesterday. I could have hugged you there and then.

MERESTON.

Could you?

LADY FREDERICK.

Oh, my dear, don't be so cold.

MERESTON.

I'm very sorry, I didn't mean to be.

LADY FREDERICK.

Haven't you got anything nice to say to me at all?

MERESTON.

I don't know what I can say that I've not said a thousand times
already.

LADY FREDERICK.

Tell me what you thought of all night when you tossed on that sleepless
pillow of yours.

MERESTON.

I was awfully anxious to see you again.

LADY FREDERICK.

Didn't you have a dreadful fear that I shouldn't be as nice as you
imagined? Now, come--honestly.

MERESTON.

Well, yes, I suppose it crossed my mind.

LADY FREDERICK.

And am I?

MERESTON.

Of course.

LADY FREDERICK.

You're sure you're not disappointed?

MERESTON.

Quite sure.

LADY FREDERICK.

What a relief! You know, I've been tormenting myself dreadfully. I said
to myself: "He'll go on thinking of me till he imagines I'm the most
beautiful woman in the world, and then, when he comes here and sees the
plain reality, it'll be an awful blow."

MERESTON.

What nonsense! How could you think anything of the kind?

LADY FREDERICK.

Are you aware that you haven't shown the least desire to kiss me yet?

MERESTON.

I thought--I thought you might not like it.

LADY FREDERICK.

It'll be too late in a minute.

MERESTON.

Why?

LADY FREDERICK.

Because I'm just going to make up, you silly boy.

MERESTON.

How? I don't understand.

LADY FREDERICK.

You said I must be very sure of my complexion. Of course I am. Here it
is.

            [_She runs her fingers over a row of little pots
            and vases._

MERESTON.

Oh, I see. I beg your pardon.

LADY FREDERICK.

You don't mean to say you thought it natural?

MERESTON.

It never occurred to me it might be anything else.

LADY FREDERICK.

It's really too disheartening. I spend an hour every day of my life
making the best complexion in Monte Carlo, and you think it's natural.
Why, I might as well be a dairymaid of eighteen.

MERESTON.

I'm very sorry.

LADY FREDERICK.

I forgive you.... You may kiss my hand. [_He does so._] You dear boy.
[_Looking at herself in the glass._] Oh, Betsy, you're not looking your
best to-day. [_Shaking her finger at the glass._] This won't do, Betsy,
my dear. You're very nearly looking your age. [_Turning round quickly._]
D'you think I look forty?

MERESTON.

I never asked myself how old you were.

LADY FREDERICK.

Well, I'm not, you know. And I shan't be as long as there's a pot of
rouge and a powder puff in the world. [_She rubs grease paint all over
her face._]

MERESTON.

What _are_ you doing?

LADY FREDERICK.

I wish I were an actress. They have such an advantage. They only have to
make up to look well behind the footlights; but I have to expose myself
to that beastly sun.

MERESTON.

[_Nervously._] Yes, of course.

LADY FREDERICK.

Is your mother dreadfully annoyed with you? And Paradine must be
furious. I shall call him Uncle Paradine next time I see him. It'll make
him feel so middle-aged. Charlie, you don't know how grateful I am for
what you did yesterday. You acted like a real brick.

MERESTON.

It's awfully good of you to say so.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Turning._] Do I look a fright?

MERESTON.

Oh, no, not at all.

LADY FREDERICK.

I love this powder. It plays no tricks with you. Once I put on a new
powder that I bought in Paris, and as soon as I went into artificial
light it turned a bright mauve. I was very much annoyed. You wouldn't
like to go about with a mauve face, would you?

MERESTON.

No, not at all.

LADY FREDERICK.

Fortunately I had a green frock on. And mauve and green were very
fashionable that year. Still I'd sooner it hadn't been on my face....
There. I think that'll do as a foundation. I'm beginning to feel younger
already. Now for the delicate soft bloom of youth. The great difficulty,
you know, is to make both your cheeks the same colour. [_Turning to
him._] Charlie, you're not bored, are you?

MERESTON.

No, no.

LADY FREDERICK.

I always think my observations have a peculiar piquancy when I have only
one cheek rouged. I remember once I went out to dinner, and as soon as I
sat down I grew conscious of the fact that one of my cheeks was much
redder than the other.

MERESTON.

By George, that was awkward.

LADY FREDERICK.

Charlie, you are a good-looking boy. I had no idea you were so handsome.
And you look so young and fresh, it's quite a pleasure to look at you.

MERESTON.

[_Laughing awkwardly._] D'you think so? What did you do when you
discovered your predicament?

LADY FREDERICK.

Well, by a merciful interposition of Providence, I had a foreign
diplomatist on my right side which bloomed like a rose, and a bishop on
my left which was white like the lily. The diplomatist told me risky
stories all through dinner so it was quite natural that this cheek
should blush fiery red. And as the Bishop whispered in my left ear
harrowing details of distress in the East End, it was only decent that
the other should exhibit a becoming pallor. [_Meanwhile she has been
rouging her cheeks._] Now look carefully, Charlie, and you'll see how I
make the Cupid's bow which is my mouth. I like a nice healthy colour on
the lips, don't you?

MERESTON.

Isn't it awfully uncomfortable to have all that stuff on?

LADY FREDERICK.

Ah, my dear boy, it's woman's lot to suffer in this world. But it's a
great comfort to think that one is submitting to the decrees of
Providence and at the same time adding to one's personal attractiveness.
But I confess I sometimes wish I needn't blow my nose so carefully.
Smile, Charlie. I don't think you're a very ardent lover, you know.

MERESTON.

I'm sorry. What would you like me to do?

LADY FREDERICK.

I should like you to make me impassioned speeches.

MERESTON.

I'm afraid they'd be so hackneyed.

LADY FREDERICK.

Never mind that. I've long discovered that under the influence of
profound emotion a man always expresses himself in the terms of the
_Family Herald_.

MERESTON.

You must remember that I'm awfully inexperienced.

LADY FREDERICK.

Well, I'll let you off this time--because I like your curly hair. [_She
sighs amorously._] Now for the delicate arch of my eyebrows. I don't
know what I should do without this. I've got no eyebrows at all
really.... Have you ever noticed that dark line under the eyes which
gives such intensity to my expression?

MERESTON.

Yes, often.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Holding out the pencil._] Well, here it is. Ah, my dear boy, in this
pencil you have at will roguishness and languor, tenderness and
indifference, sprightliness, passion, malice, what you will. Now be
very quiet for one moment. If I overdo it my whole day will be spoilt.
You mustn't breathe even. Whenever I do this I think how true those
lines are:

    "The little more and how much it is.
    The little less and what worlds away."

There! Now just one puff of powder, and the whole world's kind.
[_Looking at herself in the glass and sighing with satisfaction._] Ah! I
feel eighteen. I think it's a success, and I shall have a happy day. Oh,
Betsy, Betsy, I think you'll do. You know, you're not unattractive, my
dear. Not strictly beautiful, perhaps; but then I don't like the
chocolate-box sort of woman. I'll just go and take off this
dressing-gown. [MERESTON _gets up._] No, don't move. I'll go into my
bedroom. I shall only be one moment. [LADY FREDERICK _goes through the
curtains._] Angélique.

            [_The_ MAID _enters._

MAID.

Yes, miladi.

LADY FREDERICK.

Just clear away those things on the dressing-table.

MAID.

[_Doing so._] Very well, miladi.

LADY FREDERICK.

You may have a cigarette, Charlie.

MERESTON.

Thanks. My nerves are a bit dicky this morning.

LADY FREDERICK.

Oh, blow the thing! Angélique, come and help me.

MAID.

Yes, miladi.

            [_She goes out._

LADY FREDERICK.

At last.

            [_She comes in, having changed the kimono for
            a very beautiful dressing-gown of silk and
            lace._

LADY FREDERICK.

Now, are you pleased?

MERESTON.

Of course I'm pleased.

LADY FREDERICK.

Then you may make love to me.

MERESTON.

You say such disconcerting things.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Laughing._] Well, Charlie, you've found no difficulty in doing it for
the last fortnight. You're not going to pretend that you're already at a
loss for pretty speeches?

MERESTON.

When I came here, I had a thousand things to say to you, but you've
driven them all out of my head. Won't you give me an answer now?

LADY FREDERICK.

What to?

MERESTON.

You've not forgotten that I asked you to marry me?

LADY FREDERICK.

No, but you asked me under very peculiar circumstances. I wonder if you
can repeat the offer now in cold blood?

MERESTON.

Of course. What a cad you must think me!

LADY FREDERICK.

Are you sure you want to marry me still--after having slept over it?

MERESTON.

Yes.

LADY FREDERICK.

You are a good boy, and I'm a beast to treat you so abominably. It's
awfully nice of you.

MERESTON.

Well, what is the answer?

LADY FREDERICK.

My dear, I've been giving it you for the last half-hour.

MERESTON.

How?

LADY FREDERICK.

You don't for a moment suppose I should have let you into those horrible
mysteries of my toilette if I'd had any intention of marrying you? Give
me credit for a certain amount of intelligence and good feeling. I
should have kept up the illusion, at all events till after the
honeymoon.

MERESTON.

Are you going to refuse me?

LADY FREDERICK.

Aren't you rather glad?

MERESTON.

No, no, no.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Putting her arm through his._] Now let us talk it over sensibly.
You're a very nice boy, and I'm awfully fond of you. But you're
twenty-two, and heaven only knows my age. You see, the church in which I
was baptized was burnt down the year I was born, so I don't know how old
I am.

MERESTON.

[_Smiling._] Where was it burnt?

LADY FREDERICK.

In Ireland.

MERESTON.

I thought so.

LADY FREDERICK.

Just at present I can make a decent enough show by taking infinite
pains; and my hand is not so heavy that the innocent eyes of your sex
can discover how much of me is due to art. But in ten years you'll only
be thirty-two, and then, if I married you, my whole life would be a
mortal struggle to preserve some semblance of youth. Haven't you seen
those old hags who've never surrendered to Anno Domini, with their poor,
thin, wrinkled cheeks covered with paint, and the dreadful wigs that
hide a hairless pate? Rather cock-eyed, don't you know, and invariably
flaxen. You've laughed at their ridiculous graces, and you've been
disgusted too. Oh, I'm so sorry for them, poor things. And I should
become just like that, for I should never have the courage to let my
hair be white so long as yours was brown. But if I don't marry you, I
can look forward to the white hairs fairly happily. The first I shall
pluck out, and the second I shall pluck out. But when the third comes
I'll give in, and I'll throw my rouge and my poudre de riz and my
pencils into the fire.

MERESTON.

But d'you think I should ever change?

LADY FREDERICK.

My dear boy, I'm sure of it. Can't you imagine what it would be to be
tied to a woman who was always bound to sit with her back to the light?
And sometimes you might want to kiss me.

MERESTON.

I think it very probable.

LADY FREDERICK.

Well, you couldn't--in case you disarranged my complexion. [MERESTON
_sighs deeply._] Don't sigh, Charlie. I daresay I was horrid to let you
fall in love with me, but I'm only human, and I was desperately
flattered.

MERESTON.

Was that all?

LADY FREDERICK.

And rather touched. That is why I want to give a cure with my refusal.

MERESTON.

But you break my heart.

LADY FREDERICK.

My dear, men have said that to me ever since I was fifteen, but I've
never noticed that in consequence they ate their dinner less heartily.

MERESTON.

I suppose you think it was only calf-love?

LADY FREDERICK.

I'm not such a fool as to imagine a boy can love any less than a man. If
I'd thought your affection ridiculous I shouldn't have been so
flattered.

MERESTON.

It doesn't hurt any the less because the wounds you make are clean cut.

LADY FREDERICK.

But they'll soon heal. And you'll fall in love with a nice girl of your
own age, whose cheeks flush with youth and not with rouge, and whose
eyes sparkle because they love you, and not because they're carefully
made up.

MERESTON.

But I wanted to help you. You're in such an awful scrape, and if you'll
only marry me it can all be set right.

LADY FREDERICK.

Oh, my dear, don't go in for self-sacrifice. You must leave that to
women. They're so much more used to it.

MERESTON.

Isn't there anything I can do for you?

LADY FREDERICK.

No, dear. I shall get out of the mess somehow. I always do. You really
need not worry about me.

MERESTON.

You know, you _are_ a brick.

LADY FREDERICK.

Then it's all settled, isn't it? And you're not going to be unhappy?

MERESTON.

I'll try not to be.

LADY FREDERICK.

I'd like to imprint a chaste kiss on your forehead, only I'm afraid it
would leave a mark.

            [_The_ FOOTMAN _comes in and announces_ PARADINE
            FOULDES.

FOOTMAN.

Mr. Paradine Fouldes.

            [_Exit._

FOULDES.

Do I disturb?

LADY FREDERICK.

Not at all. We've just finished our conversation.

FOULDES.

Well?

MERESTON.

If any one wants to know who the best woman in the world is send 'em to
me, and I'll tell them.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Taking his hand._] You dear! Good-bye.

MERESTON.

Good-bye. And thanks for being so kind to me.

            [_He goes out._

FOULDES.

Do I see in front of me my prospective niece?

LADY FREDERICK.

Why d'you ask, Uncle Paradine?

FOULDES.

Singularly enough because I want to know.

LADY FREDERICK.

Well, it so happens--you don't.

FOULDES.

You've refused him?

LADY FREDERICK.

I have.

FOULDES.

Then will you tell me why you've been leading us all such a devil of a
dance?

LADY FREDERICK.

Because you interfered with me, and I allow no one to do that.

FOULDES.

Hoity-toity.

LADY FREDERICK.

You weren't really so foolish as to imagine I should marry a boy who set
me up on a pedestal and vowed he was unworthy to kiss the hem of my
garment?

FOULDES.

Why not?

LADY FREDERICK.

My dear Paradine, I don't want to commit suicide by sheer boredom.
There's only one thing in the world more insufferable than being in
love.

FOULDES.

And what is that, pray?

LADY FREDERICK.

Why, having some one in love with you.

FOULDES.

I've suffered from it all my life.

LADY FREDERICK.

Think of living up to the ideal Charlie has of me. My hair would turn a
hydrogen yellow in a week. And then to be so desperately adored as all
that--oh, it's so dull! I should have to wear a mask all day long. I
could never venture to be natural in case I shocked him. And
notwithstanding all my efforts I should see the illusions tumbling about
his ears one by one till he realised I was no ethereal goddess, but a
very ordinary human woman neither better nor worse than anybody else.

FOULDES.

Your maxim appears to be, marry any one you like except the man that's
in love with you.

LADY FREDERICK.

Ah, but don't you think I might find a man who loved me though he knew
me through and through? I'd far rather that he saw my faults and forgave
them than that he thought me perfect.

FOULDES.

But how d'you know you've choked the boy off for good?

LADY FREDERICK.

I took good care. I wanted to cure him. If it had been possible I would
have shown him my naked soul. But I couldn't do that, so I let him
see....

FOULDES.

[_Interrupting._] What!

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Laughing._] No, not quite. I had a dressing-gown on and other
paraphernalia. But I made him come here when I wasn't made up, and he
sat by while I rouged my cheeks.

FOULDES.

And the young fool thought there was nothing more in you than a
carefully prepared complexion?

LADY FREDERICK.

He was very nice about it. But I think he was rather relieved when I
refused him.

[_There is a knock at the door._]

GERALD.

[_Outside._] May we come in?

LADY FREDERICK.

Yes do.

_Enter_ GERALD _and_ ROSE _and the_ ADMIRAL.

GERALD.

[_Excitedly._] I say, it's all right. The Admiral's come down like a
real brick. I've told him everything.

LADY FREDERICK.

What do you mean? Good-morning, dear Admiral.

ADMIRAL.

Good-morning.

GERALD.

I've made a clean breast of it. I talked it over with Rosie.

ROSE.

And we went to papa together.

GERALD.

And told him that I owed Montgomerie nine hundred pounds.

ROSE.

And we thought papa would make an awful scene.

GERALD.

Raise Cain, don't you know.

ROSE.

But he never said a word.

GERALD.

He was simply ripping over it.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Putting her hands to her ears._] Oh, oh, oh. For heaven's sake be calm
and coherent.

GERALD.

My dear, you don't know what a relief it is.

ROSE.

I saw Gerald was dreadfully worried, and I wormed it out of him.

GERALD.

I'm so glad to be out of the clutches of that brute.

ROSE.

Now we're going to live happily ever afterwards.

[_All the while the_ ADMIRAL _has been trying to get a word in, but each
time he is about to start one of the others has broken in._

ADMIRAL.

Silence. [_He puffs and blows._] I never saw such a pair in my life.

LADY FREDERICK.

Now do explain it all, Admiral. I can't make head or tail out of these
foolish creatures.

ADMIRAL.

Well, they came and told me that Montgomerie had an I.O.U. of Gerald's
for nine hundred pounds and was using it to blackmail you.

FOULDES.

Is that a fact?

LADY FREDERICK.

Yes.

ADMIRAL.

I never liked the man's face. And when they said his terms were that you
were to marry him or Gerald would have to send in his papers, I said ...

FOULDES.

Damn his impudence.

ADMIRAL.

How did you know?

FOULDES.

Because I'd have said it myself.

GERALD.

And the Admiral stumped up like a man. He gave me a cheque for the
money, and I've just this moment sent it on to Montgomerie.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Taking both his hands._] It's awfully good of you, and I'm sure you'll
never regret that you gave Gerald a chance.

ADMIRAL.

May I have a few words' private conversation with you?

LADY FREDERICK.

Of course. [_To the others._] Make yourselves scarce.

FOULDES.

We'll go on the balcony, shall we?

ADMIRAL.

I'm sorry to trouble you, but it'll only take three minutes.

[GERALD _and_ ROSE _and_ FOULDES _go on to the balcony_.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_When they've gone._] There.

ADMIRAL.

Well, what I wanted to say to you was this: I like Gerald, but I think
he wants guiding. D'you follow me?

LADY FREDERICK.

I'm sure he will take your advice always.

ADMIRAL.

It's a woman's hand that he wants. Now if you and I were to join forces
we could keep him out of mischief, couldn't we?

LADY FREDERICK.

Oh, I'll come and stay with you whenever you ask me. I love giving good
advice when I'm quite sure it won't be taken.

ADMIRAL.

I was thinking of a more permanent arrangement. Look here, why don't you
marry me?

LADY FREDERICK.

My dear Admiral!

ADMIRAL.

I don't think an attractive woman like you ought to live alone. She's
bound to get in a scrape.

LADY FREDERICK.

It's awfully good of you, but....

ADMIRAL.

You don't think I'm too old, do you?

LADY FREDERICK.

Of course not. You're in the very prime of life.

ADMIRAL.

There's life in the old dog yet, I can tell you.

LADY FREDERICK.

I feel sure of that. I never doubted it for a moment.

ADMIRAL.

Then what have you got against me?

LADY FREDERICK.

You wouldn't like to commit polygamy, would you?

ADMIRAL.

Eh?

LADY FREDERICK.

You see, it's not a question of marrying me only, but all my
tradespeople.

ADMIRAL.

I hadn't thought of that.

LADY FREDERICK.

Besides, you're Rose's father, and I'm Gerald's sister. If we married I
should be my brother's mother-in-law, and my step-daughter would be my
sister. Your daughter would be your sister-in-law, and your brother
would just snap his fingers at your fatherly advice.

ADMIRAL.

[Confused.] Eh?

LADY FREDERICK.

I don't know if the prayer-book allows things like that, but if it does
I think it's hopelessly immoral.

ADMIRAL.

Well, shall I tell them I've changed my mind and they can't marry?

LADY FREDERICK.

Then there'd be no reason for us to--commit the crime, would there?

ADMIRAL.

I hadn't thought of that. I suppose not.

LADY FREDERICK.

You're not cross with me, are you? I'm very much flattered, and I thank
you from the bottom of my heart.

ADMIRAL.

Not at all, not at all. I only thought it might save trouble.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Calling._] Gerald. Come along. [_They come in._] We've had our little
talk.

GERALD.

Everything satisfactory?

LADY FREDERICK.

[_With a look at the_ ADMIRAL.] Quite.

ADMIRAL.

[_Gruffly._] Quite.

LADY FREDERICK'S FOOTMAN _enters._

FOOTMAN.

Captain Montgomerie wishes to know if he may see your ladyship.

LADY FREDERICK.

I'd forgotten all about him.

GERALD.

Let me go to him, shall I?

LADY FREDERICK.

No, I'm not afraid of him any longer. He can't do anything to you. And
as far as I'm concerned it doesn't matter.

GERALD.

Then I'll tell him to go to the devil.

LADY FREDERICK.

No, I'm going to tell him that myself. [_To the_ FOOTMAN.] Ask Captain
Montgomerie to come here.

FOOTMAN.

Yes, miladi.

            [_Exit._

Lady Frederick.

[_Walking up and down furiously._] I'm going to tell him that myself.

FOULDES.

Now keep calm, Betsy.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Very deliberately._] I shall not keep calm.

FOULDES.

Remember that you're a perfect lady.

LADY FREDERICK.

Don't interfere with me. I ate humble pie yesterday, and it didn't agree
with me at all.

[FOOTMAN _enters to announce_ CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE, _who follows him, and
immediately withdraws._

FOOTMAN.

Captain Montgomerie.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

How d'you do.

[_He is obviously surprised to see the others._

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Pleasantly._] Quite a party, aren't we?

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

Yes. [_A pause._] I hope you don't mind my coming so early?

LADY FREDERICK.

Not at all. You made an appointment for half-past ten.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

I trust you have good news for me.

LADY FREDERICK.

Captain Montgomerie, every one here knows the circumstances that have
brought you.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

I should have thought it wiser for both our sakes not to make them too
public.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Very amiably._] I don't see why you should be ashamed because you made
me a proposal of marriage?

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

I'm sorry you should think it a laughing matter, Lady Frederick.

LADY FREDERICK.

I don't. I never laugh at an impertinence.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

[_Taken aback._] I beg your pardon.

LADY FREDERICK.

Surely the receipt of my brother's letter was sufficient answer for you.
After that you must have guessed there was no likelihood that I should
change my mind.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

What letter? I don't understand.

GERALD.

I sent you a note this morning enclosing a cheque for the money I lost
to you.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

I've not received it.

GERALD.

It must be waiting for you at the hotel.

            [CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE _pauses and looks meditatively
            at the assembled company_.

LADY FREDERICK.

I think there's nothing for which I need detain you longer.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

[_Smiling._] I don't think I've quite finished yet. Has it slipped your
memory that the two bills fall due to-day? Allow me to present them.

            [_He takes them out of his pocket-book._

LADY FREDERICK.

I'm very sorry I can't pay them--at present.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

I regret that I can't wait. You must pay them.

LADY FREDERICK.

I tell you it's impossible.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

Then I shall get an order against you.

LADY FREDERICK.

That you may do to your heart's content.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

You realise the consequences. It's not very nice to be an undischarged
bankrupt.

LADY FREDERICK.

Much nicer than to marry a rascally money-lender.

FOULDES.

May I look at these interesting documents?

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

Certainly. [_Blandly._] I haven't the least wish to be offensive.

FOULDES.

[_Taking them._] You fail lamentably in achieving your wish. Three
thousand five hundred pounds in all. It seems hardly worth while to make
a fuss about so small a sum.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

I'm in urgent need of money.

FOULDES.

[_Ironically._] So rich a man as you?

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

Even a rich man may be temporarily embarrassed.

FOULDES.

Then be so good as to wait for one moment. [_He sits down at a table and
writes a cheque._] No sight is more affecting than that of a
millionaire in financial straits.

LADY FREDERICK.

Paradine!

FOULDES.

[_Handing the cheque._] Now, sir, I think that settles it. Will you
exchange my cheque for those bills?

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

Damn you, I forgot you.

FOULDES.

You may not be aware that it's unusual to swear in the presence of
ladies.

CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE.

[_Looking at the cheque._] I suppose it's all right.

            [PARADINE _goes to the door and opens it_.

FOULDES.

There is the window, and here is the door. Which will you choose?

            [CAPTAIN MONTGOMERIE _looks at him without
            answering, shrugs his shoulders and goes
            out_.

LADY FREDERICK.

Oh, Paradine, you are a brick.

GERALD.

I say it's awfully good of you.

FOULDES.

Nonsense. I've got a strong sense of effect, and I always cultivate the
dramatic situation.

LADY FREDERICK.

I shall never be able to pay you back, Paradine.

FOULDES.

My dear, I'm not entirely devoid of intelligence.

ADMIRAL.

Well, well, I must be off to take my constitutional.

LADY FREDERICK.

And Rose and Gerald must take care of you. We shall all meet at
luncheon.

ADMIRAL.

Yes, yes.

[_The_ ADMIRAL, ROSE _and_ GERALD _go out._ LADY FREDERICK _goes up to_
PARADINE _and takes his hands._

LADY FREDERICK.

Thanks awfully. You are a good friend.

FOULDES.

By George, how your eyes glitter!

LADY FREDERICK.

It's only belladonna, you know.

FOULDES.

I'm not such a fool as my nephew, my dear.

LADY FREDERICK.

Why did you do it?

FOULDES.

D'you know what gratitude is?

LADY FREDERICK.

Thanks for past favours and a lively sense of benefits to come.

FOULDES.

Well, yesterday you had my sister in the hollow of your hand. She gave
you great provocation, and you burnt those confounded letters.

LADY FREDERICK.

My dear Paradine, I can't get over my own magnanimity. And what are the
benefits to come?

FOULDES.

Well it might be five per cent. on the capital.

LADY FREDERICK.

I don't know why you should squeeze my hands all the time.

FOULDES.

But it isn't. Look here, don't you get awfully tired of racketting
about?

LADY FREDERICK.

Oh, my dear friend, I'm sick to death of it. I've got half a mind to
retire from the world and bury myself in a hermitage.

FOULDES.

So have I, and I've bought the lease of a little house in Norfolk
Street, Park Lane.

LADY FREDERICK.

Just the place for a hermitage--fashionable without being vulgar.

FOULDES.

And I propose to live there quite quietly, and I shall just subsist on a
few dried herbs, don't you know.

LADY FREDERICK.

But do have them cooked by a really good French chef; it makes such a
difference.

FOULDES.

And what d'you say to joining me?

LADY FREDERICK.

I?

FOULDES.

You.

LADY FREDERICK.

Oh, I _am_ a success to-day. That's another proposal of marriage.

FOULDES.

It sounds very much like it.

LADY FREDERICK.

I've already had three this morning.

FOULDES.

Then I should think you've said "no" quite often enough.

LADY FREDERICK.

Come at ten o'clock to-morrow, and you shall see me make up.

FOULDES.

D'you think that would choke me off? D'you suppose I don't know that
behind that very artificial complexion there's a dear little woman
called Betsy who's genuine to the bottom of her soul?

LADY FREDERICK.

Oh, don't be so sentimental or I shall cry.

FOULDES.

Well, what is it to be?

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Her voice breaking._] D'you like me still, Paradine, after all these
years?

FOULDES.

Yes. [_She looks at him, her lips quivering. He stretches out his arms,
and she, breaking down, hides her face on his shoulder._] Now don't be
an ass, Betsy.... I know you'll say in a minute I'm the only man you
ever loved.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Looking up with a laugh._] I shan't.... But what will your sister
say?

FOULDES.

I'll tell her there was only one way in which I could save Charlie from
your clutches.

LADY FREDERICK.

What?

FOULDES.

By marrying you myself.

LADY FREDERICK.

[_Putting up her face._] Monster.

[_He kisses her lips._]


THE END.

       *       *       *       *       *




_THE EXPLORER_


_BY THE SAME AUTHOR_

(_Uniform with this Volume_)

_PLAYS_:

    _A MAN OF HONOUR_
    _LADY FREDERICK_
    _JACK STRAW_
    _MRS. DOT_
    _PENELOPE_

    (_In Preparation_)

    _SMITH_
    _THE TENTH MAN_
    _GRACE_
    _LOAVES AND FISHES_

_LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN_




_THE EXPLORER

A MELODRAMA

In Four Acts

By W. S. MAUGHAM

LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN

MCMXII_

_All rights reserved_

This play was first produced at the Lyric Theatre on Saturday, June 13,
1908, with the following cast:

    ALEXANDER MACKENZIE            LEWIS WALLER
    RICHARD LOMAS                  A. E. GEORGE
    DR. ADAMSON                    CHARLES ROCK
    SIR ROBERT BOULGER, BT.      OWEN ROUGHWOOD
    GEORGE ALLERTON                 SHIEL BARRY
    REV. JAMES CARBERY         S. J. WARMINGTON
    CAPTAIN MALLINS          A. CATON WOODVILLE
    MILLER                         CHARLES CECIL
    CHARLES                            P. DIGAN
    MRS. CROWLEY                      EVA MOORE
    LADY KELSEY                      MARY RORKE
    LUCY ALLERTON                EVELYN MILLARD




_THE EXPLORER

CHARACTERS_


    ALEXANDER MACKENZIE
    RICHARD LOMAS
    DR. ADAMSON
    SIR ROBERT BOULGER, BT.
    GEORGE ALLERTON
    THE REV. JAMES CARBERY
    CAPTAIN MALLINS
    MILLER
    CHARLES
    LADY KELSEY
    MRS. CROWLEY
    LUCY ALLERTON

TIME: _The Present Day._

SCENE: _The First and Third Acts take place at Lady Kelsey's house; the
Second at Mackenzie's camp in Central Africa; and the Fourth at the
house of Richard Lomas._

_The Performing Rights of this play are fully protected, and permission
to perform it, whether by Amateurs or Professionals, must be obtained in
advance from the author's Sole Agent, R. Golding Bright, 20 Green
Street, Leicester Square, London, W.C., from whom all particulars can be
obtained._




THE EXPLORER




THE FIRST ACT


     SCENE: LADY KELSEY'S _drawing-room in Mayfair. At the back is a
     window leading on to a balcony. On the right a door leads to the
     staircase, and on the left is another door. It is the sumptuous
     room of a rich woman._

     [LADY KELSEY _is seated, dressed in black; she is a woman of fifty,
     kind, emotional, and agitated. She is drying her eyes._ MRS.
     CROWLEY, _a pretty little woman of twenty-eight, very beautifully
     dressed, vivacious and gesticulative, is watching her quietly. The_
     REV. JAMES CARBERY, _a young curate, tall and impressive in
     appearance, ponderous and self-important, is very immaculate in a
     silk waistcoat and a large gold cross._


CARBERY.

I cannot tell you how sincerely I feel for you in this affliction, Lady
Kelsey.

LADY KELSEY.

You're very kind. Every one has been very kind. But I shall never get
over it. I shall never hold up my head again.

MRS. CROWLEY.

Nonsense! You talk as if the whole thing weren't perfectly monstrous.
Surely you don't for a moment suppose that your brother-in-law won't be
able to explain everything away?

LADY KELSEY.

God forbid! But still, it's dreadful to think that at this very moment
my poor sister's husband is standing in the felon's dock.

CARBERY.

Dreadful, dreadful!

LADY KELSEY.

If you only knew the agonies I've suffered since Fred was arrested! At
first I couldn't believe it, I wouldn't believe it. If I'd only known
such a thing was possible, I'd have done anything to help him.

CARBERY.

But had you any idea he was in difficulties?

LADY KELSEY.

He came to me and said he must have three thousand pounds at once. But
I'd given him money so often since my poor sister died, and every one
said I oughtn't to give him any more. After all, someone must look after
his children, and if I don't hoard my money a little, George and Lucy
will be penniless.

MRS. CROWLEY.

Oh, you were quite right to refuse.

LADY KELSEY.

I thought it would only go in senseless extravagances as all the rest
has gone, and when he said it was a matter of life and death, I couldn't
believe it. He'd said that so often.

CARBERY.

It's shocking to think a man of his position and abilities should have
come to such a pass.

MRS. CROWLEY.

Dear Mr. Carbery, don't draw the very obvious moral. We're all quite
wretched enough as it is.

LADY KELSEY.

And two days later Lucy came to me with a white face to say that he had
been arrested for forging a cheque.

CARBERY.

I only met him once, and I'm bound to say I thought him a most charming
man.

LADY KELSEY.

Ah, that's what ruined him. He was always so entirely delightful. He
could never say no to any one. But there's not an atom of harm in him.
I'm quite certain he's never done anything criminal; he may have been
foolish, but wicked never.

MRS. CROWLEY.

Of course he'll be able to clear himself. There's not the least doubt
about that.

LADY KELSEY.

But think of the disgrace of it. A public trial. And Fred Allerton of
all people! The Allertons were always so proud of their family. It was
almost a mania with them.

MRS. CROWLEY.

For centuries they've cherished the firm belief that there was no one in
the county fit to black their boots.

CARBERY.

Pride goeth before a fall.

MRS. CROWLEY.

[_Smiling._] And proverbs before a clergyman.

LADY KELSEY.

They wouldn't give him bail, so he's remained in prison till now. Of
course, I made Lucy and George come here.

MRS. CROWLEY.

You've been quite charming, Lady Kelsey, as every one knew you'd be. But
don't think of these wretched weeks of suspense. Think only that Mr.
Allerton has got his chance at last. Why, the trial may be over now, and
he may this very minute be on his way to this house.

CARBERY.

What will he do when it's over? The position will be surely a little
unpleasant.

LADY KELSEY.

I've talked it over with Lucy, and--I've made it possible for them all
to go abroad. They'll need rest and quiet. Poor things, poor things!

CARBERY.

I suppose Miss Allerton and George are at the Old Bailey.

LADY KELSEY.

No, their father begged them to stay away. They've been in all day,
waiting for the papers.

MRS. CROWLEY.

But who is going to bring you the news? Surely you're not going to wait
for the papers?

LADY KELSEY.

Oh, no, Dick Lomas is coming. He's one of the witnesses for Fred, and my
nephew Bobby Boulger.

MRS. CROWLEY.

And what about Mr. Mackenzie? He told me he would be there.

CARBERY.

Is that the great traveller? I thought I saw in the paper that he'd
already started for Africa.

LADY KELSEY.

Not yet. He's going at the beginning of the month. Oh, he's been so good
to us during this time. All our friends have been good to us.

CARBERY.

I shouldn't have thought there was much of the milk of human kindness to
overflow in Alexander Mackenzie. By all accounts he dealt with the
slave-traders in Africa with a good deal of vigour.

MRS. CROWLEY.

The slave-traders must be quaking in their shoes if they know he's
starting out again, for he's made up his mind to exterminate them, and
when Alec Mackenzie makes up his mind to do a thing, he appears to do
it.

LADY KELSEY.

He has the reputation of a hard man, but no one could be more delightful
than he has been to me.

MRS. CROWLEY.

I don't think I like him, but he's certainly a strong man, and in
England just now every one's so weak and floppy, it's rather a relief to
come across somebody who's got a will of iron and nerves of steel.

            [GEORGE ALLERTON _comes in_. _He is a very
            young man, good-looking, though at the
            moment pale and haggard, with a rather
            weak face._

GEORGE.

I thought Lucy was here. [_To_ CARBERY _and_ MRS. CROWLEY.] How d'you
do? Have you seen Lucy?

MRS. CROWLEY.

I went to her room for a moment.

GEORGE.

What is she doing?

MRS. CROWLEY.

Reading.

GEORGE.

I wish I could take it as calmly as she does. An outsider would think
there was nothing the matter at all. Oh, it's too awful!

LADY KELSEY.

My dear, you must bear up. We must all hope for the best.

GEORGE.

But there is no best. Whatever happens, it means disgrace and dishonour.
How could he? How could he?

LADY KELSEY.

No one knows your father as I do, George. I'm sure he's never been
anything but thoughtless and foolish.

GEORGE.

Of course he's not been actually criminal. That's absurd. But it's bad
enough as it is.

MRS. CROWLEY.

You mustn't take it too much to heart. In another half-hour at the
utmost your father will be here with everything cleared up, and you'll
be able to go back to Oxford with a clear conscience.

GEORGE.

D'you think I can go to Oxford again when my father has been tried for
forgery? No, no! No, no! I'd rather shoot myself.

LADY KELSEY.

My poor boy.... Where have you been all day?

GEORGE.

Heaven knows! I've walked through the streets till I'm dog-tired. Oh,
the suspense is too awful. My feet carried me to the Old Bailey, and I
would have given anything to go in and see how things were going, but
I'd promised the Pater I wouldn't.

LADY KELSEY.

How did he look this morning?

GEORGE.

He was most awfully worn and ill. I don't believe he'll ever get over
it. I saw his counsel before the case began. They told me it was bound
to come all right.

MRS. CROWLEY.

Is there anything in the evening papers?

GEORGE.

I haven't dared to look. The placards are awful.

CARBERY.

Why, what do they say?

GEORGE.

Can't you imagine? "Gentleman charged with forgery." "County gentleman
at the Old Bailey." And all the rest of it. Damn them! Damn them!

LADY KELSEY.

It may be all over by now.

GEORGE.

I feel that I shall never sleep again. I couldn't close my eyes last
night. To think that one's own father....

LADY KELSEY.

For goodness' sake be quiet.

GEORGE.

[_Starting._] There's a ring at the bell.

LADY KELSEY.

I've given orders that no one is to be admitted but Dick Lomas and
Bobbie.

MRS. CROWLEY.

It must be finished by now. It's one or the other of them come to tell
you the result.

LADY KELSEY.

Oh, I'm so frightfully anxious.

GEORGE.

Aunt, you don't think....

LADY KELSEY.

No, no, of course not. They _must_ find him not guilty.

            [_The_ BUTLER _enters followed by_ DICK LOMAS,
            _a clean-shaven dapper man, with a sharp
            face and good-natured smile. He is between
            thirty-five and forty, but slim and youthful.
            With him comes_ SIR ROBERT BOULGER,
            LADY KELSEY'S _nephew, a good-looking,
            spruce youth of twenty-two_.

BUTLER.

Mr. Lomas, Sir Robert Boulger.

GEORGE.

[_Excitedly._] Well, well? For God's sake tell us quickly.

DICK.

My dear people, I have nothing to tell.

GEORGE.

Oh!

            [_He staggers with sudden faintness and falls
            to the floor._

DICK.

Hulloa! What's this?

MRS. CROWLEY.

Poor boy!

            [_They crowd round him._

GEORGE.

It's all right. What a fool I am! I was so strung up.

DICK.

You'd better come to the window.

            [_He and_ BOULGER _take the boy's arms and lead
            him to the window_. GEORGE _leans against
            the balcony_.

CARBERY.

I'm afraid I must go away. Every Wednesday at four I read _Little Lord
Fauntleroy_ to forty charwomen.

LADY KELSEY.

Good-bye. And thanks so much for coming.

MRS. CROWLEY.

[_Shaking hands with him._] Good-bye. A clergyman always helps one so
much to bear other people's misfortunes.

            [CARBERY _goes out, and in a moment_ ROBERT
            BOULGER _comes back into the room_.

LADY KELSEY.

Is he better?

BOULGER.

Oh, much. He'll be all right in a minute. [LADY KELSEY _goes to the
window, and he turns to_ MRS. CROWLEY.] You are a brick to come here
to-day, when they're all in such awful trouble.

MRS. CROWLEY.

[_With a little hesitation._] Did you really come away before the trial
was ended?

BOULGER.

Why, of course. What did you think? You don't imagine they'll convict
him?

MRS. CROWLEY.

It's too dreadful.

BOULGER.

Where is Lucy? I was hoping to get a glimpse of her.

MRS. CROWLEY.

I wouldn't trouble her to-day if I were you. I think she most wants to
be left alone.

BOULGER.

I wanted to tell her that if I could do anything at all, she had only to
command.

MRS. CROWLEY.

I think she knows that. But I'll give her the message if you like....
You're very devoted.

BOULGER.

I've been madly in love with her ever since I was ten.

MRS. CROWLEY.

Take care then. There's nothing so tedious as the constant lover.

            [DICK _comes into the room and speaks to_
            ROBERT BOULGER.

DICK.

George is quite well now. He wants you to smoke a cigarette with him.

BOULGER.

Certainly.

            [_He goes on to the balcony._

DICK.

[_When_ BOULGER _is gone_.] At least, he will the moment he sees you.

MRS. CROWLEY.

What do you mean by that?

DICK.

Merely that I wanted to talk to you. And Robert Boulger, being a youth
of somewhat limited intelligence, seemed in the way.

MRS. CROWLEY.

Why did you leave the Old Bailey?

DICK.

My dear lady, I couldn't stand it. You don't know what it is to sit
there and watch a man tortured, a man you've known all your life, whom
you've dined with times out of number, in whose house you've stayed. He
had just the look of a hunted beast, and his face was grey with terror.

MRS. CROWLEY.

How was the case going?

DICK.

I couldn't judge. I could only see those haggard, despairing eyes.

MRS. CROWLEY.

But you're a barrister. You must have heard his answers. What did he
reply to all the questions?

DICK.

He seemed quite dazed. I don't think he took in the gist of his
cross-examination.

MRS. CROWLEY.

But the man's innocent.

DICK.

Yes, we all hope that.

MRS. CROWLEY.

What d'you mean? There can be no doubt about that. When he was arrested
Lucy went to him and begged him to tell her the exact truth. He swore
that he wasn't guilty.

DICK.

Poor Lucy! She's borne up wonderfully. She'll stick to her father
through thick and thin.

MRS. CROWLEY.

[_Abruptly._] Mr. Lomas, you're trying to put me off. It's not fair to
let Lucy buoy herself up with false hopes. She's absolutely convinced
that her father will be acquitted.

DICK.

Well, in another half-hour we shall all know. When I left, the judge was
just going to sum up.

MRS. CROWLEY.

Mr. Lomas, what is your opinion?

            [_He looks at her steadily for a moment._

DICK.

Were you very much surprised when you heard Fred Allerton was arrested?

MRS. CROWLEY.

Good heavens, I was overwhelmed!

DICK.

[_Dryly._] Ah!

MRS. CROWLEY.

If you aggravate me I shall box your ears.

DICK.

When first I knew Fred he was a very rich man. You know that the
Allertons are one of the oldest families in Cheshire?

MRS. CROWLEY.

Yes. I think Lucy's only failing is an inordinate pride in her family.
She thinks it very snobbish to have any particular respect for a peer of
the realm, but only natural to look up to persons of good family.

DICK.

Ah, you see, you and I who have a quite indecent lack of ancestors,
can't realise what the cult of family may be. There are families in the
remote parts of England--not very rich, not very clever, and not very
good-looking--who would look askance at a belted earl who came to demand
their daughter's hand in marriage. They have a natural conviction that
they're the salt of the earth, and in their particular corner they rule
more absolutely than half the monarchs in Europe. The Allertons were
like that. But Fred somehow seemed to belong to a different stock. The
first thing he did was to play ducks and drakes with his fortune.

MRS. CROWLEY.

But men ought to be extravagant. That's what they're there for.

DICK.

Women always took his side because he had an irresistible charm of
manner.

MRS. CROWLEY.

I think George has, too, a little.

DICK.

I hope for Lucy's sake he will turn out a different man from his father.
I wish he weren't so like him in appearance. At last Fred Allerton had
squandered every penny, and he married Lady Kelsey's sister, one of the
three rich daughters of a Liverpool merchant. But he ran through her
money, too, gambling, racing, and so forth, and she died of a broken
heart--adoring him still.

MRS. CROWLEY.

You're as well informed as an encyclopædia, Mr. Lomas.

DICK.

You see, I was made the trustee for the poor remains of Mrs. Allerton's
fortune, and I know how Lucy has managed to keep all their heads above
water. She's wonderful. Ever since she was a child she's held the reins
in her own hands. She's stuck to her father, though Lady Kelsey implored
her to leave him to his own foolish ways. She saw that George was
decently educated. She hid from the world all the little shifts and
devices to which she had to resort in order to keep up an appearance of
decency.

MRS. CROWLEY.

I suppose you, too, think Fred Allerton little better than a scamp?

DICK.

My dear lady, when a man has had to leave his club because he plays
cards too well, it's at least permissible to suppose that there's
something odd about him.

MRS. CROWLEY.

Here's Lady Kelsey. For heaven's sake try and amuse her a little.

[LADY KELSEY _comes back into the room_.

LADY KELSEY.

Oh, Dick, I'm so full of my own troubles, I forgot to ask about yours.
I'm so sorry to hear that you're ill.

DICK.

On the contrary, I'm in the very best of health.

LADY KELSEY.

But I saw in the papers that you were going to give up your seat in the
House owing to ill-health.

DICK.

Of course, I'd forgotten. My heart is seriously deranged.

MRS. CROWLEY.

How dreadful! What is the matter with it?

DICK.

Can you ask? I've banged it about at your feet so long that its
functions are excessively impaired. And it's beaten all my waistcoats
out of shape.

MRS. CROWLEY.

Don't be so foolish. I was quite alarmed.

DICK.

I'm going to retire.

LADY KELSEY.

From the bar as well?

DICK.

From the bar as well. Henceforth I shall cultivate only such arts and
graces as are proper to the man of leisure. My fellow men are a great
deal too strenuous, and I propose to offer them the spectacle of a
complete idler who demands from the world neither honours nor profit,
but only entertainment.

MRS. CROWLEY.

D'you mean to say you're going to give up a large practice and a
position which may be very important merely to gratify a foolish whim?

DICK.

I haven't time to work. Life is so much too short. A little while ago it
occurred to me that I was nearly forty. [_To_ MRS. CROWLEY.] D'you know
the feeling?

MRS. CROWLEY.

No, of course not. Don't be so uncivil.

DICK.

By the way, how old are you?

MRS. CROWLEY.

Twenty-nine!

DICK.

Nonsense! There's no such age.

MRS. CROWLEY.

I beg your pardon, upper parlourmaids are always twenty-nine.

DICK.

For years I've spent eight hours a day meddling with silly persons'
silly quarrels, and eight hours more governing the nation. I've never
been able to spend more than half my income. I'm merely working myself
to death in order to leave a fortune to my nieces, two desperately plain
girls with red noses.

LADY KELSEY.

But what are you going to do?

DICK.

Oh, I don't know. Perhaps I'll try my hand at big game shooting, if Alec
will take me on this expedition of his. I've always thought shooting
would be an agreeable pastime if partridges were the size of well-grown
sheep and pheasants a little larger than a cow.

MRS. CROWLEY.

Then the breakdown in your health is all humbug?

DICK.

Absolute humbug. If I were to tell the truth people would shut me up in
a lunatic asylum. I've come to the conclusion that there's only one game
in the world worth playing, and that's the game of life. I'm rich enough
to devote myself to it entirely.

MRS. CROWLEY.

But you'll get bored to death.

DICK.

Not I! Why, I'm growing younger every day. My dear Mrs. Crowley, I don't
feel a day more than eighteen.

MRS. CROWLEY.

You certainly look quite twenty-five.

DICK.

I haven't a white hair in my head.

MRS. CROWLEY.

I suppose your servant plucks them out every morning.

DICK.

Oh, very rarely. One a month at the outside.

MRS. CROWLEY.

I think I see one on the left temple.

DICK.

Really! How careless of Charles! I must speak to him.

MRS. CROWLEY.

Let me pluck it out.

DICK.

I shall allow you to do nothing so familiar.

            [GEORGE _comes hurriedly into the room_.

GEORGE.

There's Alec Mackenzie. He's just driven up in a cab.

DICK.

He must have come from the trial. Then it's all over.

LADY KELSEY.

Quick! Go to the stairs, or Miller won't let him up.

            [GEORGE _runs across the room and opens the door_.

GEORGE.

[_Calling._] Miller, Miller, Mr. Mackenzie's to come up.

[LUCY ALLERTON, _hearing a commotion, comes in. She is older than
George, a tall girl, white now, with eyes heavy from want of sleep. She
has lived in the country all her life, and has brought up to London a
sort of remoteness from the world. She is beautiful in a very English
manner, and her clear-cut features are an index to a character in which
the moral notions are peculiarly rigid. Self-control is a quality which
she possesses in a marked degree, and one which she enormously admires
in others_.

LUCY.

Who is it?

GEORGE.

It's Alec Mackenzie. He's come from the trial!

LUCY.

Then it's finished at last. [_She shakes hands with_ DICK.] It's so good
of you to come.

BOULGER.

You're perfectly wonderful, Lucy. How can you be so calm?

LUCY.

Because I'm quite sure of the result. D'you imagine I'd doubt my father
for a moment?

DICK.

Oh, Lucy, for heaven's sake don't be so sure. You must be prepared for
everything.

LUCY.

Oh, no, I know my father. D'you think I've not studied him during these
years that I've looked after him? He's a child, with all a child's
thoughtlessness and simplicity. And God knows, he's weak. I know his
faults better than any one, but it would be impossible for him to do
anything criminal.

            [_The_ BUTLER _enters, followed by_ ALEC MACKENZIE.
            ALEC _is a tall, wiry man, well-knit,
            with dark hair and a small red
            moustache and beard, cut close to the face.
            He is about five-and-thirty. He has great
            ease of manner, and there is about him an
            air as though he were accustomed that
            people should do as he told them._

BUTLER.

Mr. Mackenzie!

GEORGE.

Is it finished? For God's sake tell us quickly, old man.

LUCY.

Why didn't father come with you? Is he following?

ALEC.

Yes, it's all over.

LADY KELSEY.

Thank goodness. The suspense was really too dreadful.

GEORGE.

I knew they'd acquit him. Thank God!

DICK.

[_Looking at_ ALEC'S _face_.] Take care, George.

            [_Suddenly_ LUCY _goes up to_ ALEC _and looks at
            him. An expression of horror distorts her
            features._

MRS. CROWLEY.

Lucy, what is it?

ALEC.

I don't know how I am going to tell you.

LUCY.

You say the trial was over when you came away?

ALEC.

Yes.

LUCY.

The jury had given their verdict?

GEORGE.

Lucy, what are you driving at? You don't think ...?

ALEC.

Your father asked me to come and break it to you.

GEORGE.

He's not dead?

ALEC.

Perhaps it would be better if he were.

LUCY.

They found him guilty?

ALEC.

Yes.

GEORGE.

[_With a groan of despair._] Oh! But it's impossible.

LUCY.

[_Putting her hand on his arm._] Ssh!

LADY KELSEY.

My God, my God! I'm thankful that his wife is dead.

LUCY.

I'm awfully stupid, but if he was innocent, how could they find him
guilty? I don't know what you mean.

ALEC.

I am afraid it's very clear.

LUCY.

There must be some horrible mistake.

ALEC.

I wish there were.

GEORGE.

[_Breaking down into tears and sinking into a chair._] Oh, God! What
shall I do?

LUCY.

Don't do that, George. We want all our calmness now.

GEORGE.

Don't you see they all expected it? It was only you and I who believed
in his innocence.

LUCY.

[_To_ ALEC.] Did you hear the evidence?

ALEC.

Yes.

LUCY.

And you followed it carefully?

ALEC.

Very.

LUCY.

What impression did it leave on your mind?

ALEC.

What can it matter how it affected me?

LUCY.

I want to know.

DICK.

Lucy, you're torturing us all.

LUCY.

If you had been on the jury would your verdict have been the same as
theirs?

ALEC.

I should have been obliged to judge according to my conscience.

LUCY.

I see. And you have no doubt that he was guilty?

ALEC.

Don't ask me these horrible questions.

LUCY.

But it's very important. I know that you are a perfectly honest and
upright man. If you think he was guilty, there is nothing more to be
said.

ALEC.

The case was so plain that the jury were not out of the box for more
than ten minutes.

LUCY.

Did the judge say anything?

ALEC.

[_Hesitatingly._] He said there could be no doubt about the justice of
the verdict.

LUCY.

What else?... [_He looks at her without answering._] You had better tell
me now. I shall see it in the papers to-morrow.

ALEC.

[_As though the words were dragged out of him._] He called it a very
mean and shameful crime, worse than another man's because your father
was a gentleman of ancient family and bore a name of great honour.

DICK.

[_To_ MRS. CROWLEY.] These judges have a weakness for pointing a moral.

LUCY.

And what was the sentence? [_A pause._] Well?

ALEC.

Seven years' penal servitude.

GEORGE.

Oh, God!

DICK.

My dear girl, I can't tell you how sorry I am.

LADY KELSEY.

Lucy, what is it? You frighten me.

LUCY.

Try and bear up, George. We want all the strength we've got, you and I.

[MRS. CROWLEY _puts her arms round_ LUCY _and kisses her._

MRS. CROWLEY.

Oh, my dear, my dear!

LUCY.

[_Disengaging herself._] You're all very kind, and I know you sympathise
with me....

MRS. CROWLEY.

[_Interrupting her._] You know that we'll do everything we can to help
you.

LUCY.

It's so good of you. There's really nothing that any one can do. Would
you all mind leaving me alone with George? We must talk this over by
ourselves.

MRS. CROWLEY.

Very well. Mr. Lomas, will you put me into a cab?

DICK.

Certainly. [_To_ LUCY.] Good-bye, dear, and God bless you.

LUCY.

[_Shaking hands with him._] Don't worry too much about me. If there's
anything I want, I'll let you know.

DICK.

Thanks.

            [_He goes out with_ MRS. CROWLEY.

ALEC.

May I speak to you for a few minutes alone?

LUCY.

Not now, Mr. Mackenzie. I don't want to seem rude, but ...

ALEC.

[_Interrupting._] I know, and I wouldn't insist unless it were a matter
of the most urgent importance.

LUCY.

Very well. George, will you take Aunt Alice to her room? I shall want
you in a moment.

GEORGE.

Yes.

LUCY.

[_To_ LADY KELSEY.] Won't you lie down and try and sleep a little? You
must be dreadfully exhausted.

LADY KELSEY.

Ah, don't think of me now, dear. Think of yourself.

LUCY.

[_Smiling._] It's purely selfish. It eases me a little to fuss about
you.

GEORGE.

I'll wait in the smoking-room, Lucy.

LUCY.

Do!

[GEORGE _and_ LADY KELSEY _go out._

ALEC.

I think your self-command is wonderful. I've never admired you more than
at this moment.

LUCY.

You make me feel such a prig. It's not really very strange if I keep my
head, because I've had an immensely long training. Since I was fifteen
I've been alone to care for George and my father.... Won't you sit down?

ALEC.

I can say what I want in a very few words. You know that in a week I
start for Mombassa to take charge of the expedition in North-East
Africa. I may be away for three or four years, and I shall be exposed to
a certain amount of danger. When I left Africa last time to gather
supplies, I determined I would crush those wretched slave-traders, and
now I think I have the means to do it.

LUCY.

I think you are engaged on a very great work.

ALEC.

I don't know whether you ever noticed that--that I cared more for you
than for any one in the world. But with the long journey in front of me
I didn't think it was right to say anything to you. It wasn't fair to
ask you to bind yourself during my long absence. And there was always
the risk that a stray bullet might put an end to me. I made up my mind
that I must wait till I returned. But things have changed now. Lucy, I
love you with all my heart. Will you marry me before I go?

LUCY.

No, I can't do that. It's very generous of you, but I couldn't.

ALEC.

Why not? Don't you know that I love you? It would help me so much if I
knew that you were waiting for me at home.

LUCY.

I must look after my father. I shall go and live near the--prison, so
that I can see him whenever it's possible.

ALEC.

You can do that as well if you're my wife.... You have before you a very
difficult and trying time. Won't you let me help you?

LUCY.

I couldn't. Heaven knows, I'm grateful to you for offering to marry me
on this day of my bitter humiliation. I shall never forget your great
kindness. But I must stand alone. I must devote myself to my father.
When he's released I must have a home to bring him to, and I must tend
him and care for him. Ah, now he wants me more than ever.

ALEC.

You're very proud.

LUCY.

[_Giving him her hand._] Dear friend, don't think hardly of me. I think
I love you as much as it's possible for a woman to love a man.

ALEC.

Lucy!

LUCY.

[_With a smile._] Did you want me to tell you that in so many words? I
admire you, and I trust you. I should be very happy if George could grow
into so brave and honest a man as you.

ALEC.

They're very modest crumbs with which you want me to be satisfied.

LUCY.

I know in your heart you think I'm right. You would never seek to
dissuade me from what I'm convinced is my duty.

ALEC.

Can't I do anything for you at all?

[_She looks at him for a moment intently. She rings the bell._

LUCY.

Yes, you can do me the greatest possible service.

ALEC.

I'm so glad. What is it you mean?

LUCY.

Wait, and I'll tell you. [_The_ BUTLER _enters._] Ask Mr. George to come
here, please.

BUTLER.

Very well, Miss.

            [_He goes out._

LUCY.

I want you to help me.

            [GEORGE _comes in._

GEORGE.

Yes, Lucy?

LUCY.

I want to give into your charge what I love most in the world....
George, have you thought at all what you're going to do now? I'm afraid
you can't go back to Oxford.

GEORGE.

No, I don't know what's to become of me. I wish I were dead.

LUCY.

An idea has just come to me. I'm going to ask Mr. Mackenzie to take you
with him to Africa. Will you go?

GEORGE.

Yes, yes! I'd do anything to get away from England. I daren't face my
friends--I'm too ashamed.

LUCY.

Ah, but it's not to hide yourself that I want you to go. Mr. Mackenzie,
I daresay you know that we've always been very proud of our name. And
now it's hopelessly dishonoured.

GEORGE.

Lucy, for God's sake ...

LUCY.

[_Turning to him._] Now our only hope is in you. You have the
opportunity of achieving a great thing. You can bring back the old name
to its old honour. Oh, I wish I were a man. I can do nothing but wait
and watch. If I could only fill you with my courage and with my
ambition! Mr. Mackenzie, you asked if you could do anything for me. You
can give George the chance of wiping out the shame of our family.

ALEC.

Do you know that he will have to suffer every sort of danger and
privation, that often he will be parched by the heat, and often soaked
to the skin for days together? Sometimes he'll not have enough to eat,
and he'll have to work harder than a navvy.

LUCY.

Do you hear, George? Are you willing to go?

GEORGE.

I'll do anything you want me to, Lucy.

ALEC.

And you know that he may get killed. There may be a good deal of
fighting.

LUCY.

If he dies a brave man's death, I have nothing more to ask.

ALEC.

[_To_ GEORGE.] Very well. Come with me, and I'll do my best for you.

LUCY.

Ah, thanks. You are really my friend.

ALEC.

And when I come back?

LUCY.

Then, if you still care, ask your question again.

ALEC.

And the answer?

LUCY.

[_With a little smile._] The answer, perhaps, will be different.


END OF THE FIRST ACT




THE SECOND ACT


     SCENE: ALEC MACKENZIE'S _tent in North-East Africa. It is night.
     The place is dimly lighted. There is a little camp bed in one
     corner with a mosquito net over it. There are two or three folding
     chairs, some tin cases, and a table. On this a gun is lying._

     DICK _is seated with his head on his hands, leaning on the table,
     fast asleep_. DR. ADAMSON, _the surgeon of the expedition, comes
     in. He is a large-boned brawny fellow with a Scotch accent. He
     looks at_ DICK _and smiles_.


DOCTOR.

Hulloa, there! [DICK _starts up and seizes the gun. The_ DOCTOR
_laughs_.] All right. Don't shoot. It's only me.

DICK.

[_With a laugh._] Why the dickens did you wake me up? I was
dreaming--dreaming of a high-heeled boot and a neat ankle, and the swish
of a white lace petticoat.

DOCTOR.

I thought I'd just have a look at your arm.

DICK.

It's one of the most æsthetic sights I know.

DOCTOR.

Your arm?

DICK.

A pretty woman crossing Piccadilly at Swan and Edgar's. You are a
savage, my good doctor, and a barbarian. You don't know the care and
forethought, the hours of anxious meditation, it has needed for her to
hold up that well-made skirt with the elegant grace which enchants you.

DOCTOR.

I'm afraid you're a very immoral man, Lomas.

DICK.

Ah, my dear fellow, at my time of life I have to content myself with
condemning the behaviour of the younger generation. Even a camp bed in a
stuffy tent with mosquitoes buzzing all around me has allurements
greater than those of youth and beauty. And I declare for all women to
hear that I am proof against their wiles. Give me a comfortable bed to
sleep in, plenty to eat, tobacco to smoke, and Amaryllis may go hang.

DOCTOR.

Well, let's look at this wound of yours. Has it been throbbing at all?

DICK.

Oh, it's not worth bothering about. It'll be all right to-morrow.

DOCTOR.

I'll put a clean dressing on all the same.

DICK.

All right. [_He takes off his coat and rolls up his sleeve. His arm is
bandaged, and during the next speeches the_ DOCTOR _puts on a dressing
and a clean bandage_.] You must be pretty well done up, aren't you?

DOCTOR.

Just about dropping. But I've got a deuce of a lot more work before I
turn in.

DICK.

The thing that amuses me is to remember that I came to Africa thinking I
was going to have a rattling good time.

DOCTOR.

You couldn't exactly describe it as a picnic, could you? But I don't
suppose any of us knew it would be such a tough job as it's turned out.

DICK.

My friend, if ever I return to my native land, I will never be such a
crass and blithering idiot as to give way again to a spirit of
adventure.

DOCTOR.

[_With a laugh._] You're not the sort of chap whom one would expect to
take to African work. Why the blazes did you come?

DICK.

That's precisely what I've been asking myself ever since we landed in
this God-forsaken swamp.

DOCTOR.

The wound looks healthy enough. It'll hardly even leave a scar.

DICK.

I'm glad that my fatal beauty won't be injured.... You see, Alec's about
the oldest friend I have. And then there's young Allerton, I've known
him ever since he was a kid.

DOCTOR.

That's an acquaintance that most of us wouldn't boast about.

DICK.

I had an idea I'd like Bond Street all the better when I got back. I
never knew that I should be eaten alive by every kind of disgusting
animal by night and day. I say, Doctor, do you ever think of a rump
steak?

DOCTOR.

When?

DICK.

[_With a wave of the hand._] Sometimes, when we're marching under a sun
that just about takes the roof of your head off, and we've had the
scantiest and most uncomfortable breakfast possible, I have a vision.

DOCTOR.

D'you mind only gesticulating with one arm?

DICK.

I see the dining-room of my club and myself sitting at a little table by
the window looking out on Piccadilly, and there's a spotless tablecloth,
and all the accessories are spick and span. An obsequious servant brings
me a rump steak, grilled to perfection, and so tender that it melts in
the mouth. And he puts by my side a plate of crisp, fried potatoes.
Can't you smell them?

DOCTOR.

[_Laughing._] Shut up!

DICK.

And then another obsequious servant brings me a pewter tankard, and into
it he pours a bottle, a large bottle, mind you, of foaming ale.

DOCTOR.

You've certainly added considerably to our cheerfulness.

DICK.

[_With a shrug of the shoulders._] I've often been driven to appease the
pangs of raging hunger with a careless epigram, and by the laborious
composition of a limerick I have sought to deceive a most unholy
thirst.

DOCTOR.

Well, last night I thought you'd made your last joke, old man, and that
I had given my last dose of quinine.

DICK.

We were in rather a tight corner, weren't we?

DOCTOR.

This is the third expedition I've gone with Mackenzie against the
slave-raiders, and I promise you I've never been so certain that all was
over with us.

DICK.

Funny thing death is, you know. When you think of it beforehand, it
makes you squirm in your shoes, but when you've just got it face to
face, it seems so obvious that you forget to be afraid. It's one of my
principles never to be impressed by a platitude.

DOCTOR.

It's only by a miracle we escaped. If those Arabs hadn't hesitated to
attack us just those ten minutes we should have been wiped out.

DICK.

Alec was splendid, wasn't he?

DOCTOR.

Yes, by Jove! He thought we were done for.

DICK.

What makes you think that?

DOCTOR.

Well, you see, I know him pretty well. He's been a pal of yours for
twenty years in England, but I've been with him out here three times,
and I tell you there's not much about a man that you don't know then.

DICK.

Well?

DOCTOR.

Well, when things are going smoothly and everything's flourishing, he's
apt to be a bit irritable. He keeps rather to himself, and he doesn't
say much unless you do something he doesn't approve of.

DICK.

And then, by Jove, he comes down on one like a thousand of bricks. It's
not for nothing the natives call him Thunder and Lightning.

DOCTOR.

But when things begin to look black, his spirits go up like one o'clock.
And the worse they are, the more cheerful he is.

DICK.

It's one of his most irritating characteristics.

DOCTOR.

When every one is starving with hunger, and dead tired, and soaked to
the skin, Mackenzie fairly bubbles over with good-humour.

DICK.

When I'm in a bad temper, I much prefer every one else to be in a bad
temper too.

DOCTOR.

These last few days, he's been positively hilarious. Yesterday he was
cracking jokes with the natives.

DICK.

[_Dryly._] Scotch jokes. I daresay they sound funny in an African
dialect.

DOCTOR.

I've never seen him more cheerful. I said to myself: By the Lord Harry,
the chief thinks we're in a devil of a bad way.

DICK.

Thank Heaven, it's all over now. We've none of us had any sleep for
three days, and when I once get off, I don't mean to wake up for a week.

DOCTOR.

I must go and see the rest of my patients. Perkins has got a bad dose of
fever this time. He was quite delirious a while ago.

DICK.

By Jove, I'd almost forgotten. How one changes out here! Here am I
feeling happy and comfortable and inclined to make a little jest or two,
and I've forgotten already that poor Richardson is dead and Lord knows
how many natives.

DOCTOR.

Poor chap, we could ill spare him. The fates never choose the right man.

DICK.

What do you mean by that?

DOCTOR.

If we had to lose some one, it would have been a damned sight better if
that young cub had got the bullet which killed poor Richardson.

DICK.

George Allerton?

DOCTOR.

He wouldn't have been much loss, would he?

DICK.

No, I'm afraid he wouldn't.

DOCTOR.

Mackenzie has been very patient with him. I wonder he didn't send him
back to the coast months ago, when he sacked Macinnery.

DICK.

Poor George, everything has been against him.

DOCTOR.

Some men have got natures so crooked that with every chance in the world
to go straight they can't manage it. The only thing is to let them go
to the devil as best they may.

DICK.

Alec was bound to give him another chance. [ALEC MACKENZIE _comes in_.]
Hulloa, Alec! Where have you been?

ALEC.

I've been going the round of the outlying sentries.

DICK.

All serene?

ALEC.

Yes. I've just seen a native messenger that Mindabi sent to me.

DOCTOR.

Anything important?

ALEC.

[_Curtly._] Yes. How's the arm, Dick?

DICK.

Oh, that's nothing. It's only a scratch.

ALEC.

You'd better not make too light of it. The smallest wound has a way of
being troublesome in this country.

DOCTOR.

He'll be all right in a day or two.

ALEC.

How are the others?

DOCTOR.

They're going on pretty well on the whole. Perkins, of course, will be
down for some days longer. And some of the natives are rather badly
hurt. Those devils have got explosive bullets.

ALEC.

Any one in great danger?

DOCTOR.

No, I don't think so. There are two men who are in rather a bad way, but
all they want is rest.

ALEC.

I see.

DICK.

I say, have you had anything to eat lately?

ALEC.

[_With a laugh._] Good Lord! I quite forgot. I wonder when the dickens I
had some food last.

DICK.

[_Smiling._] You've had nothing to-day, have you?

ALEC.

No, I don't think so. Those Arabs kept us so confoundedly busy.

DICK.

You must be devilish hungry.

ALEC.

Now you mention it, I think I am. And thirsty, by Jove! I wouldn't give
my thirst for an elephant tusk.

DICK.

And to think there's nothing but tepid water to drink!

DOCTOR.

I'll go and tell the boy to bring you some food. It's a rotten game to
play tricks with your digestion like that.

ALEC.

[_Gaily._] Stern man, the doctor, isn't he? It won't hurt me once in a
way. And I shall enjoy it all the more now.

DOCTOR.

[_Calling._] Selim!

ALEC.

No, don't trouble. The poor chap's just turned in, dropping with sleep.
I told him he might till I called him. I don't want much, and I can
easily get it myself. [_He goes to a case and takes out a tin of meat
and some ship's biscuits._] It's rather a nuisance that we've not been
able to get any game lately.

            [_He sets the food down before him, sits down,
            and begins to eat._

DICK.

[_Ironically._] Appetising, isn't it?

ALEC.

Splendid!

DICK.

You have all the instincts of the primeval savage, Alec. It enrages and
disgusts me.

ALEC.

[_With a laugh._] Why?

DICK.

You take food for the gross and bestial purpose of appeasing your
hunger. You have no appreciation for the delicacies of eating as a fine
art.

ALEC.

The meat's getting rather mouldy, isn't it?

DICK.

Damnable! It's been a source of great anxiety to me in England.

ALEC.

What is he talking about now?

DICK.

I was going on with the thread of my observations, which you interrupted
with the entirely obvious remark that the tinned meat was getting
mouldy.

ALEC.

I apologise profusely. Pray go on!

DICK.

I was about to observe that even in England you will eat the most
carefully ordered meal with an indifference which is an outrage to
decency. Indeed, you pay less attention to it than here, because at all
events you do notice that the meat is mouldy. But if any one gives you a
good dinner, you notice nothing. I've given him priceless port, Doctor,
and he drank it as though it were cooking sherry.

DOCTOR.

I confess it is lamentable. But why is it a source of anxiety to you?

DICK.

What on earth is to happen to him in his old age?

ALEC.

Explain yourself, my friend. Clearly but with as much brevity as
possible.

DICK.

The pleasure of eating is the only pleasure that remains to the old.
Love--what is love when you lose your figure, and your hair grows thin?
Knowledge--one can never know everything, and the desire passes with the
fire of youth. Even ambition fails you in the end. But to those who have
lived wisely and well, there remain three pleasures every day of their
lives: their breakfast, their luncheon, and their dinner.

ALEC.

[_With a laugh._] I wouldn't worry about my old age if I were you, Dick.

DICK.

Why?

ALEC.

Because I think it's ten to one that we shall all be dead to-morrow
morning.

DOCTOR.

What?

            [_There is a slight pause while both men stare
            at him._

DICK.

Is this one of your little jokes, Alec?

ALEC.

You have often observed that I joke with difficulty.

DOCTOR.

But what's wrong now?

ALEC.

You'll neither of you sleep in your beds to-night. Another sell for the
mosquitoes, isn't it? I propose to break up the camp and start marching
as soon as the moon goes down.

DICK.

I say, it's a bit thick after a day like this. We're all so done up that
we shan't be able to go a mile.

ALEC.

Nonsense, you will have had two hours' rest.

DOCTOR.

But some of those fellows who are wounded can't possibly be moved.

ALEC.

They must!

DOCTOR.

I won't answer for their lives.

ALEC.

We must take the risk. Our only chance is to make a bold dash for it,
and we can't leave the wounded here.

DICK.

I suppose there's going to be a deuce of a row?

ALEC.

[_Grimly._] There is.

DICK.

Your companions seldom have a chance to complain of the monotony of
their existence, Alec. What are you going to do now?

ALEC.

At this moment, I'm going to fill my pipe.

            [_There is a pause while_ ALEC _fills and lights
            his pipe_.

DICK.

I gather from the general amiability of your demeanour that we're in a
rather tight place?

ALEC.

Tighter than any of your patent-leather boots, my friend.

DICK.

[_Gravely._] Have we any chance of getting through, old man?

ALEC.

[_Lightly._] Oh, I don't know. There's always a chance.

DICK.

Don't grin at me in that irritating fashion.

ALEC.

You must wish you were treading the light fantastic toe in a London
ball-room, Dick.

DICK.

Frankly I do.... I suppose we're going to fight again?

ALEC.

Like Kilkenny cats.

DICK.

[_Briskly._] Well, at all events that's some comfort. If I am going to
be done out of my night's rest, I should like to take it out of some
one.

ALEC.

If things turn out all right, we shall have come near finishing the job,
and there won't be much more slave-raiding in this part of Africa.

DICK.

And if things don't turn out all right?

ALEC.

Why, then I'm afraid the tea-tables of Mayfair will be deprived of your
scintillating repartee forever.

DICK.

Well, I've had a very good time in my life. I've loved a little, I've
looked at some good pictures, read some thundering fine books, and I've
worked and played. If I can only account for a few more of those damned
scoundrels before I die, I shouldn't think I had much to complain of.

ALEC.

[_Smiling._] You're a philosopher, Dick.

DICK.

Doesn't the possibility of an extremely unpleasant demise tempt you to a
few appropriate reflections?

ALEC.

I don't know that it does. I'm a bit of a fatalist, and my theory is
that when my time comes nothing can help me, but at the bottom of my
heart I can't resist the conviction that I shan't die till I let myself.

DOCTOR.

Well, I must go and put things in order. I'll bandage those fellows up,
and I hope they'll stand the jolting.

ALEC.

What about Perkins?

DOCTOR.

Lord knows! I'll try and keep him quiet with chloral.

ALEC.

You needn't say anything about striking camp. I don't propose that any
one should know till a quarter of an hour before we start.

DOCTOR.

But that won't give them time.

ALEC.

It must. I've trained them often enough to get on the march quickly.

DOCTOR.

Very well.

            [GEORGE ALLERTON _comes in as the_ DOCTOR _is
            on the point of going_.

GEORGE.

Can I come in?

ALEC.

Yes ... Doctor!

DOCTOR.

Hulloa!

ALEC.

You might stay a minute, will you?

DOCTOR.

[_Coming back._] Certainly.

ALEC.

Didn't Selim tell you that I wanted to speak to you?

GEORGE.

That's why I've come.

ALEC.

You've taken your time about it.

GEORGE.

I say, could you give me a drink of brandy? I'm awfully done up.

ALEC.

[_Shortly._] There's no brandy left.

GEORGE.

Hasn't the doctor got some?

ALEC.

No!

            [_There is a pause._ ALEC _looks at him slowly_.

GEORGE.

Why are you all looking at me like that? You look as if you were going
to try me for something.

DICK.

Nonsense! Don't be so nervous.

ALEC.

[_Abruptly._] Do you know anything about the death of that Turkana
woman?

GEORGE.

No! How should I?

ALEC.

Come now, you must know something about it. Last Tuesday you came into
camp and told me the Turkana were very excited.

GEORGE.

[_Unwillingly._] Oh, yes! I remember something about it. It had slipped
my memory.

ALEC.

Well?

GEORGE.

I'm not very clear about it. The woman had been shot, hadn't she? One of
our station boys had been playing the fool with her, and he seems to
have shot her.

ALEC.

Have you made no inquiries as to who the man was?

GEORGE.

[_In a surly way._] I haven't had time. We've all been worked off our
legs during these three days.

ALEC.

Do you suspect no one?

GEORGE.

I don't think so.

ALEC.

Think a moment.

GEORGE.

The only man who might have done it is that big scoundrel whom we got on
the coast, the Swahili.

ALEC.

What makes you think that?

GEORGE.

He's been making an awful nuisance of himself, and I know he was running
after her.

ALEC.

I understand she complained about him to you?

GEORGE.

Yes.

ALEC.

Do you think that would be enough evidence to punish him on?

GEORGE.

He's a thorough blackguard, and after all, if one does make a mistake,
he's only a nigger.

ALEC.

You'll be surprised to hear that when the woman was found she wasn't
dead.

            [GEORGE _gives a movement of consternation_.

ALEC.

She didn't die for nearly an hour.

GEORGE.

[_After a short pause._] Was she able to say anything?

ALEC.

She accused you of having shot her.

GEORGE.

Me?

ALEC.

It appears that _you_ were playing the fool with her, and when she got
angry you took out a revolver and fired point blank. Presumably that she
should tell no tales.

GEORGE.

It's a stupid lie. You know what they are. It's just like them to tell
an absurd lie like that. You wouldn't believe a parcel of niggers rather
than me, would you? After all, my word's worth more than theirs.

ALEC.

[_Taking from his pocket an exploded cartridge._] This was found about
two yards from the body. As you see, it's a revolver cartridge. It was
brought to me this evening.

GEORGE.

I don't know what that proves.

ALEC.

You know just as well as I do that none of our natives has a revolver.
Besides ourselves only two or three of the servants have them.

            [GEORGE _becomes white with fear, he takes out
            his handkerchief and wipes his face_.

ALEC.

[_Quietly._] Will you give me your revolver?

GEORGE.

I haven't got it. I lost it in the skirmish this afternoon. I didn't
tell you as I thought you'd be annoyed.

ALEC.

I saw you cleaning it less than an hour ago.

GEORGE.

[_With a shrug of the shoulders._] Perhaps it's in my tent, I'll go and
see.

ALEC.

[_Sharply._] Stop here.

GEORGE.

[_Angrily._] You've no right to talk to me like that. I'm sick to death
of being ordered about. You seem to think I'm a dog. I came out here of
my own free will, and I won't let you treat me as if I were a servant.

ALEC.

If you put your hand to your hip pocket, I think you'll find your
revolver there.

GEORGE.

I'm not going to give it to you.

ALEC.

[_Quietly._] D'you want me to come and take it from you myself?

            [_The two men stare at one another for a moment.
            Then_ GEORGE _slowly puts his hand to his
            pocket. He lakes out the revolver and
            suddenly aims at_ ALEC. DICK _beats up
            his arm as he fires, and the_ DOCTOR,
            _springing forward, seizes him round the
            waist_. ALEC _remains still_.

DICK.

[_During the struggle._] You young blackguard!

GEORGE.

Let me go, damn you!

ALEC.

You need not hold him.

            [_They leave go of_ GEORGE, _who sinks cowering
            into a chair_. DICK _hands the revolver to_
            ALEC. _He silently fits into a chamber the
            cartridge that had been brought to him._

ALEC.

You see that it fits. Hadn't you better make a clean breast of it?

GEORGE.

[_Cowed._] Yes, I shot her. She made a row, and the devil got into me. I
didn't know I'd done anything till she screamed and I saw the blood....
What a fool I was to throw the cartridge away! I wanted to have all the
chambers charged.

ALEC.

Do you remember that two months ago I hanged a man to the nearest tree
because he'd outraged a native woman?

GEORGE.

[_Springing up in terror._] You wouldn't do that to me, Alec. Oh, God,
no, Alec, have mercy on me. You wouldn't hang me. Oh, why did I ever
come to this damned place?

ALEC.

You need not be afraid. I'm not going to do that. In any case I must
preserve the native respect for the white man.

GEORGE.

I was half drunk when I saw that woman. I wasn't responsible for my
actions.

ALEC.

The result is that the whole tribe has turned against us. The chief is
my friend, and he sent a message to tell me he couldn't hold them in.
It's from him I got the cartridge. It wouldn't be so serious, only the
best fighting part of our forces are the Turkana, and we must expect
treachery. They've stirred up the neighbouring tribes against us, and
all the work we've been doing for a year is undone. That's the
explanation of the Arabs' attack three days ago.

GEORGE.

[_Sullenly._] I knew it was all my fault.

ALEC.

The natives have made up their minds to join the slave-traders, and we
shall be attacked on all sides to-morrow. We can't hold out against God
knows how many thousands.

GEORGE.

D'you mean you'll all be killed?

ALEC.

If we remain here there's no escape.

GEORGE.

[_In a whisper._] What are you going to do to me, Alec?

            [ALEC _walks up and down the tent_.

ALEC.

[_Presently._] I think you might go and see your patients now, doctor.

DOCTOR.

Very well.

DICK.

Shall I go too, Alec?

ALEC.

No, you can stay here. But don't open your mouth till you're spoken to.

[THE DOCTOR _goes out_.

GEORGE.

I'm sorry I did that silly thing just now. I'm glad I didn't hit you.

ALEC.

It doesn't matter at all. I'd forgotten all about it.

GEORGE.

I lost my head, I didn't know what I was doing.

ALEC.

You need not trouble about that. In Africa even the strongest people are
apt to get excited and lose their balance.

[ALEC _re-lights his pipe, and there its a very short pause_.

ALEC.

Did you ever know that before we came away I asked Lucy to marry me?

GEORGE.

I knew you cared for her.

ALEC.

She asked me to bring you here in the hope that you would regain the
good name of your family. I think that is the object she has most at
heart in the world. It's as great as her love for you. The plan hasn't
been much of a success, has it?

GEORGE.

She ought to have known that I wasn't suited for this kind of life.

ALEC.

I saw very soon that you were weak and irresolute. But I hoped to make
something of you. Your intentions seemed good enough, but you never had
the strength to carry them out.... I'm sorry if I seem to be preaching
to you.

GEORGE.

[_Bitterly._] Oh, d'you think I care what any one says to me now?

ALEC.

[_Gravely, but not unkindly._] Then I found you were drinking. I told
you that no man could stand liquor in this country, and you gave me your
word of honour that you wouldn't touch it again.

GEORGE.

Yes, I broke it. I couldn't help it; the temptation was too strong.

ALEC.

When we came to the station at Muneas you and Macinnery got blind drunk,
and the whole camp saw you. I ought to have sent you back to the coast
then, but it would have broken Lucy's heart.

GEORGE.

It was Macinnery's fault.

ALEC.

It's because I thought he was to blame that I sent him back alone. I
wanted to give you another chance. It struck me that the feeling of
authority might have some influence on you, and so when we came to the
lake I left you to guard the ferry. I put the chief part of the stores
in your care and marched on. I needn't remind you what happened then.

[GEORGE _looks down sulkily, and in default of excuses keeps silent_.

ALEC.

I came to the conclusion that it was hopeless. You seemed to me rotten
through and through.

GEORGE.

[_With a little laugh._] Like my father before me.

ALEC.

I couldn't believe a word you said. You did everything you shouldn't
have done. The result was that the men mutinied, and if I hadn't come
back in the nick of time they'd have killed you and looted all the
stores.

GEORGE.

You always blame me for everything. A man's not responsible for what he
does when he's down with fever.

ALEC.

It was too late to send you back to the coast then, and I was obliged to
take you on. And now the end has come. Your murder of that woman has put
us all in deadly peril. Already to your charge lie the deaths of
Richardson and almost twenty natives. Tribes that were friendly have
joined with the Arabs, and we're as near destruction as we can possibly
be.

GEORGE.

What are you going to do?

ALEC.

We're far away from the coast, and I must take the law into my own
hands.

GEORGE.

[_With a gasp._] You're not going to kill me?

ALEC.

Are you fond of Lucy?

GEORGE.

[_Brokenly._] You--you know I am. Why d'you remind me of her now? I've
made a rotten mess of everything, and I'm better out of the way. But
think of the disgrace of it. It'll kill Lucy.... And she was hoping I'd
do so much.

ALEC.

Listen to me. Our only chance of escaping from the confounded fix we're
in is to make a sudden attack on the Arabs before the natives join them.
We shall be enormously outnumbered, but we may just smash them if we can
strike to-night. My plan is to start marching as if I didn't know that
the Turkana were going to turn against us. After an hour all the whites
but one, and the Swahilis whom I can trust implicitly, will take a short
cut. The Arabs will have had news of our starting, and they'll try to
cut us off at the pass. I shall fall on them just as they begin to
attack. D'you understand?

GEORGE.

Yes.

ALEC.

Now I must have one white man to head the Turkana, and that man will run
the greatest possible danger. I'd go myself, only the Swahilis won't
fight unless I lead them.... Are you willing to take that post?

GEORGE.

I?

ALEC.

I could order you, but the job's too dangerous for me to force it on any
one. If you refuse, I shall call the others together and ask some one to
volunteer. In that case you will have to find your way back alone as
best you can to the coast.

GEORGE.

No, no! Anything rather than the shame of that.

ALEC.

I won't hide from you that it means almost certain death. But there's no
other way of saving ourselves. On the other hand, if you show perfect
courage at the moment the Arabs attack and the Turkana find that we've
given them the slip, you may escape. If you do, I promise nothing shall
be said of all that has happened here.

GEORGE.

All right. I'll do that. And I thank you with all my heart for giving me
the chance.

ALEC.

I'm glad you've accepted. Whatever happens you'll have done a brave
action in your life. [_He holds out his hand to_ GEORGE, _who takes
it_.] I think there's nothing more to be said. You must be ready to
start in half an hour. Here's your revolver. Remember that one chamber's
empty. You'd better put in another cartridge.

GEORGE.

Yes, I'll do that.

            [_He goes out._

DICK.

D'you think he has any chance of escaping?

ALEC.

If he has pluck he may get through.

DICK.

Well!

ALEC.

To-morrow we shall know if he has that last virtue of a
blackguard--courage.

DICK.

And if he hasn't, it's death you're sending him to?

ALEC.

Yes. It's death!


END OF THE SECOND ACT




THE THIRD ACT


     SCENE: _A smoking-room at_ LADY KELSEY'S, _leading by an archway
     into a drawing-room at the back. On the right is a glass door which
     leads into the garden. On one side is a sofa; on the other a table
     with cigarettes, matches, whiskey, sodas, etc._

     LADY KELSEY _is giving a dance, and the music of the Lancers is
     heard vaguely from the ball-room as the curtain rises_. MRS.
     CROWLEY _and_ SIR ROBERT BOULGER _are sitting down_. LADY KELSEY
     _comes in with the_ REV. JAMES CARBERY.


LADY KELSEY.

Oh, you wretched people, why aren't you dancing? It's too bad of you to
hide yourselves here!

MRS. CROWLEY.

We thought no one would find us in the smoking-room. But why have you
abandoned your guests, Lady Kelsey?

LADY KELSEY.

Oh, I've got them all comfortably settled in the Lancers, and I'm free
to rest myself for a quarter of an hour. You don't know what agonies
I've been suffering the whole evening.

MRS. CROWLEY.

Good gracious me! Why?

LADY KELSEY.

I'm so afraid Alec Mackenzie will come.

BOULGER.

You needn't worry about that, Aunt Alice. He'll never venture to show
his face.

LADY KELSEY.

I didn't know what to do. It was impossible to put the dance off. It's
too dreadful that these horrible revelations should....

CARBERY.

[_Supplying the word._] Transpire.

LADY KELSEY.

Yes, transpire on the very day I've at last persuaded Lucy to come into
the world again. I wish Dick would come.

BOULGER.

Yes, he'll be able to tell us something.

MRS. CROWLEY.

But will he?

CARBERY.

Wherever I go people are talking about Mr. Mackenzie, and I'm bound to
say I've found nobody who has a good word for him.

BOULGER.

[_Bitterly._] Humpty-dumpty's had a great fall.

CARBERY.

I wonder if I might have a cigarette?

MRS. CROWLEY.

I'm sure you might. And if you press me dreadfully, I'll have one, too.

BOULGER.

Don't press her. She's already had far too many.

MRS. CROWLEY.

Well, I'll forego the pressing, but not the cigarette.

CARBERY.

[_Handing her the box and giving her a light._] It's against all my
principles, you know.

MRS. CROWLEY.

What _is_ the use of principles except to give one an agreeable
sensation of wickedness when one doesn't act up to them?

[DICK _comes in as she speaks._

DICK.

My dear lady, you're as epigrammatic as a dramatist. Do you say such
things from choice or necessity?

LADY KELSEY.

_Dick!_

BOULGER.

Dick!

MRS. CROWLEY.

Mr. Lomas!

CARBERY.

Ah!

[_The four exclamations are simultaneous._

DICK.

This enthusiasm at my appearance is no less gratifying than unexpected.

LADY KELSEY.

I'm so glad you've come at last. Now we shall get at the truth.

BOULGER.

[_Impatiently._] Well?

DICK.

My dear people, what _are_ you talking about?

BOULGER.

Oh, don't be such an ass!

MRS. CROWLEY.

Good heavens, didn't you read the _Times_ this morning?

DICK.

I only came back from Paris to-night. Besides, I never read the papers
except in August.

MRS. CROWLEY.

[_Raising her eyebrows._] When there's nothing in them?

DICK.

Pardon me, I'm an eager student of the sea-serpent and the giant
gooseberry.

LADY KELSEY.

My dear Dick, it's too shocking. I wish I'd had the courage to write and
ask Mr. Mackenzie not to come. But since you both came back from Africa
a month ago he's been here nearly every day. And he's been so good and
kind to us, I couldn't treat him as though there was no doubt the story
was true.

BOULGER.

There can't be the least doubt about it. By George, I should like to
kick him.

DICK.

[_Dryly._] My dear chap, Alec is a hardy Scot and bigger than you, so I
shouldn't advise you to try.

BOULGER.

I was engaged to dine with him to-night, but I wired to say I had a
headache.

LADY KELSEY.

What will he think if he sees you here?

BOULGER.

He can think what he jolly well likes.

LADY KELSEY.

I hope he has the sense to stay away.

CARBERY.

I think you're pretty safe now, Lady Kelsey. It's growing late.

DICK.

Will some one kindly explain?

MRS. CROWLEY.

D'you mean to say you really don't know--seriously? After all, you were
with him.

LADY KELSEY.

My dear Dick, there are two columns of fiery denunciation in this
morning's _Times_.

[DICK _is a little startled, but at once collects himself_.

DICK.

Oh, that's only the reaction. That's nothing. Since he arrived in
Mombassa, after three years in the heart of Africa, he's made almost a
triumphal progress. Of course, it couldn't last. The reaction was bound
to come.

BOULGER.

[_Looking at him steadily._] The article is signed by a man named
Macinnery.

DICK.

[_Calmly._] Alec found Macinnery half starving at Mombassa, and took him
solely out of charity. But he was a worthless rascal, and he had to send
him back.

BOULGER.

He gives ample proof for every word he says.

DICK.

Whenever an explorer comes home, there's some one to tell nasty stories
about him. People forget that kid gloves are not much use in a tropical
forest, and grow very indignant when they hear that a man has used a
little brute force to make himself respected.

LADY KELSEY.

Oh, my dear Dick, it's much worse than that. First poor Lucy's father
died....

DICK.

You're not going to count that as an overwhelming misfortune? We were
unanimous in describing that gentleman's demise as an uncommonly happy
release.

LADY KELSEY.

But Lucy was heart-broken all the same. And when her life seemed to grow
a little more cheerful, came her brother's tragic death.

DICK.

[_Abruptly, to_ MRS. CROWLEY.] What is it exactly?

MRS. CROWLEY.

The long and short of it is that Mr. Mackenzie was the cause of George
Allerton's death.

DICK.

Lucy's brother was killed by the slave-traders.

BOULGER.

Mackenzie sent him into a confounded trap to save his own dirty skin.

LADY KELSEY.

And the worst of it is that I think Lucy is in love with Mr. Mackenzie.

[BOULGER _makes a slight movement, and for a moment there is an
uncomfortable pause_.

CARBERY.

I saw him this evening in Piccadilly, and I almost ran into his arms. It
was quite awkward.

DICK.

[_Frigidly._] Why?

CARBERY.

I don't think I want to shake the man's hand. He's nothing short of a
murderer.

BOULGER.

[_Savagely._] He's worse than that. He's ten times worse.

LADY KELSEY.

Well, for heaven's sake be polite to him if he comes to-night.

CARBERY.

I really couldn't bring myself to shake hands with him.

DICK.

[_Dryly._] Don't you think you'd better wait for evidence before you
condemn him?

BOULGER.

My dear fellow, the letter in the _Times_ is absolutely damning.
Interviewers went to him from the evening papers, and he refused to see
them.

DICK.

What does Lucy say of it? After all, she's the person most concerned.

LADY KELSEY.

She doesn't know. I took care that she shouldn't see the paper. I wanted
to give her this evening's enjoyment unalloyed.

MRS. CROWLEY.

Take care, here she is.

[LUCY _comes in_.

LADY KELSEY.

[_Smiling and reaching out her hand._] Well, darling?

LUCY.

[_Going to_ LADY KELSEY.] Are you growing very tired, my aunt?

LADY KELSEY.

I can rest myself for the time. I don't think any one else will come
now.

LUCY.

[_Gaily._] You faithless woman, have you forgotten the guest of the
evening?

LADY KELSEY.

Mr. Mackenzie?

LUCY.

[_Bending over her._] My dear, it was charming of you to hide the paper
from me this morning....

LADY KELSEY.

[_Startled._] Did you see the letter? I so wanted you not to till
to-morrow.

LUCY.

Mr. Mackenzie very rightly thought I should know at once what was said
about him and my brother. He sent me the paper himself this evening.

BOULGER.

Did he write to you?

LUCY.

No, he merely scribbled on a card: "I think you should read this."

BOULGER.

Well, I'm damned!

LADY KELSEY.

What did you think of the letter, Lucy?

LUCY.

[_Proudly._] I didn't believe it.

BOULGER.

[_Bitterly._] You must be blinded by your--friendship for Alec
Mackenzie. I never read anything more convincing.

LUCY.

I could hardly believe him guilty of such an odious crime if he
confessed it with his own lips.

BOULGER.

Of course, he won't do that.

DICK.

Did I ever tell you how I made acquaintance with Alec? In the
Atlantic--about three hundred miles from land.

MRS. CROWLEY.

What a perfectly ridiculous place for an introduction.

DICK.

I was a silly young fool in those days, and I habitually played the
giddy goat. In the course of which, I fell overboard and was proceeding
to drown when Alec jumped in after me. It was an incautious thing to do,
because he very nearly got drowned himself.

LUCY.

That's not the only heroic thing he's done.

DICK.

No, it's one of his hobbies to risk his life to save unnecessary and
useless people. But the funny thing is that ever since he saved mine,
he's been quite absurdly grateful. He seems to think I did him an
intentional service and fell into the water on purpose to give him a
chance of pulling me out.

LUCY.

[_With a long look at_ DICK.] It's very kind and good of you to have
told that story.

[_The_ BUTLER _comes in and announces_ ALEC MACKENZIE.

BUTLER.

Mr. Mackenzie.

ALEC.

[_Blandly._] Ah, I thought I should find you here, Lady Kelsey.

LADY KELSEY.

[_Shaking hands with him._] How d'you do? We've just been talking of
you.

ALEC.

Really?

LADY KELSEY.

It's so late, we were afraid you wouldn't come. I should have been
dreadfully disappointed.

ALEC.

It's very kind of you to say so. I've been at the Travellers', reading
various appreciations of my own character.

LADY KELSEY.

[_Somewhat embarrassed._] Oh, I heard there was something about you in
the papers.

ALEC.

There's a good deal. I really had no idea the world was so interested in
me.

LADY KELSEY.

It's charming of you to come to-night. I'm sure you hate dances!

ALEC.

Oh, no, they interest me enormously. I remember, one of the Kings of
Uganda gave a dance in my honour. Ten thousand warriors in war-paint. I
assure you it was most impressive.

DICK.

My dear fellow, if paint is the attraction you really need not go much
farther than Mayfair.

ALEC.

[_Pretending for the first time to notice_ BOULGER.] Ah, there's my
little friend Bobbie. I thought you had a headache?

LADY KELSEY.

[_Quickly._] I'm afraid Bobby is dreadfully dissipated. He's not looking
at all well.

ALEC.

[_Good-humouredly._] You shouldn't keep such late hours, Bobbie. At your
age one wants one's beauty sleep.

BOULGER.

It's very kind of you to take an interest in me. My headache has passed
off.

ALEC.

I'm very glad. What do you use--Phenacetin?

BOULGER.

It went away of its own accord--after dinner.

ALEC.

[_Smiling._] So you resolved to give the girls a treat by coming to Lady
Kelsey's dance? How nice of you not to disappoint them! [_He turns to_
LUCY _and holds out his hand. They look into one another's eyes. She
takes his hand._] I sent you a paper this evening.

LUCY.

It was very good of you.

[CARBERY _comes forward and offers his arm._

CARBERY.

I think this is my dance, Miss Allerton. May I take you in?

ALEC.

Carbery? I saw you in Piccadilly just now! You were darting about just
like a young gazelle. I had no idea you could be so active.

CARBERY.

I didn't see you.

ALEC.

I observed that you were deeply interested in the shop windows as I
passed. How are you?

[_He holds out his hand, and for a moment_ CARBERY _hesitates to take
it. But_ ALEC'S _steady gaze compels him._

CARBERY.

How d'you do?

ALEC.

[_With an amused smile._] So

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