ACT IIISCENE: The sitting-room at “Sunnybank,” Hammersmith. There is no centre table, but there are various small ones against the wall and in the window. There is a piano, a tall palm in the window, and one or two wicker chairs that creak. The rest of the furniture is upholstered in saddlebags with antimacassars over the sofa head and armchairs. Gramophone in the corner. Big mirror over mantelpiece. Gilt clock in glass case and lustres.MRS. MASSEYis sleeping in one armchair.MR. MASSEYis asleep on sofa, pulled across centre.MAGGIEsits reading at small table.MAGGIEsoftly rises and goes to fire. She pokes it and a piece of coal falls out.MRS. M.turns her head.MAGGIE.I’m so sorry, Mother, I tried to poke it gently.MRS. M.I was hardly asleep, my dear.MAGGIE.Mother!—you’ve been sleeping for half an hour!MRS. M.It didn’t seem like it, dear. Why, your father’s asleep.MAGGIE.Isn’t that extraordinary!MRS. M.[admiringly.] How soundly he sleeps! What’s the time?MAGGIE.Four o’clock.MRS. M.I should have thought they’d have been here now.MAGGIE.Not Percy and Sybil, I hope. You don’t expectthem,until the last minute, do you?MRS. M.No, dear—of course not.MAGGIE.I wouldn’t walk the streets this afternoon for any man.MRS. M.I don’t suppose they find it cold.MAGGIE.Oh, I daresay they’re sitting in the Park.MRS. M.I hope they won’t be late for tea. I shall want mine soon.MAGGIE.I’ll put on the kettle now and when Lil and Charley come, we will have tea and not wait for the others. We’ll have it cosily in here. [She goes out, returning with kettle, which she puts on fire. Sits close toMRS. MASSEY.]MAGGIE.Mother!MRS. M.Yes.MAGGIE.Mother, did you love father when you married him—very much, I mean, very, very much!MRS. M.[much astonished.] What a question! Of course.MAGGIE.More than any other man you’d ever seen?MRS. M.Of course!MAGGIE.More than everything and everybody?MRS. M.Of course!MAGGIE.Well, there’s something wrong with me, then—or else with Walter. I don’t feel a bit like that. There’s no “of course” with me. I wouldn’t go and sit in the Park with him this afternoon for anything.MRS. M.I suppose you’ve quarrelled?MAGGIE.No, we haven’t. I wish we had.MRS. M.Maggie! Don’t talk like that.MAGGIE.But I do. He wants me to marry him next month.MRS. M.And a very good thing too.MAGGIE.He says he’s found a house, and wants me to go and look at it.Idon’t want to see it.MRS. M.What’s come over you lately? You used to be satisfied. Walter is very nice and attentive—in fact, quite devoted.MAGGIE.Yes, I know. Just like he was to his first wife, I expect.MRS. M.You’ve such an absurd prejudice against widowers, Maggie. You’re jealous.MAGGIE.I’m not. Not a bit. But I do wish he would do something, and not worry about getting married.MRS. M.The poor man is doing something, I should think, running after you every spare minute, and house hunting.MAGGIE.I would much rather he went to Australia—or somewhere.MRS. M.That’s that absurd Tennant man again. You’re not in love withhim,I hope?MAGGIE.[promptly.] Not a scrap! I find him rather dull.MRS. M.Then what is it?MAGGIE.I should like Walter to go out and seek his fortune instead of getting it in a coal merchant’s office.MRS. M.He mightn’t come back.MAGGIE.[thoughtfully.] Perhaps he wouldn’t.Click of gate.MRS. M.There’s the gate, Maggie.MAGGIEgoes out R. She comes back in a moment, followed byLILY.LILYgoes to her mother and kisses her. She looks at her father.LILY.Father asleep?MAGGIE.What a question. Shall I take your hat and coat?LILYtakes them off and hands them toMAGGIE.You’re shivering! Sit close to the fire. Aren’t you well?LILY.[in a pathetic voice.] Yes, I’m well, thank you.MRS. M.Are you alone?LILY.Charley is coming on. He’s gone to the station with Mr. Tennant.MRS. M.To see him off?LILY.No—Mr. Tennant goes to-morrow.MAGGIEgoes out with hat and coat. She brings back with her a tray, with cloth, etc., and prepares for tea on a small table.MRS. M.Have you got another lodger?LILY.No. We—we’ve got to have two.MRS. M.Two? What for?MAGGIEstops to listen.LILY.They’ve reduced Charley’s salary.MRS. M.[sitting up energetically.] Reduced it? What for?LILY.I don’t know—I . . . oh, I’m so miserable. [She suddenly covers her face with her hands and sobs.]MAGGIE.[stooping over her.] Lil, dear, you’re not crying overthat,are you?LILY.[sobbing.] Oh, no, no! It doesn’t matter. We can make room for two lodgers quite well. I don’t mind the work.MAGGIE.Then what is it?MRS. M.I suppose you and Charley have quarrelled?MAGGIE.Tell us, dear.LILY.Charley—wants—to go away—and leave me.MRS. M.What? What’s this?LILY.[looking apprehensively round at the sleeping figure.] Hush! don’t wake father!MAGGIE.He won’t wake till the tea-cups rattle. Charley wants to leaveYOU!MRS. M.Iknewthey’d quarrelled.LILY.We haven’t—not exactly—but he’s been sofunnyever since Mr. Tennant said he was going to Australia. He wants to go too.MRS. M.What next? Charley ought to be ashamed of himself. Go to Australia indeed! He forgets he is married.LILY.I don’t want him to stay just because he’s married, if he wants to leave me.MAGGIE.You are quitewrong,I’m sure, Lil. He doesn’t want to leave you at all. He wants to leave his work.MRS. M.Perhaps he does. So do other people very often. Suppose we all stopped work when we didn’t like it? A pretty muddle the world would be in. Charley is forgetting there is such a thing as duty.LILY.He’s very unhappy—and I—I can’t make him happy.MRS. M.So he ought to be miserable with such ideas in his head. I never heard of such a thing! The sooner Mr. Tennant goes the better. He’s been putting Charley up to this, I suppose?MAGGIE.You don’t know Mr. Tennant, mother. He’s not that sort.MRS. M.Then what made Charley think of it at all?MAGGIE.It’s just a feeling you get sometimes, mother. You can’t help it. Office work is awf’lly monotonous.MRS. M.Of course it is. So is all work. Do you expect work to be pleasant? Does anybody ever like work? The idea is absurd. Anyone would think work was to be pleasant. You don’t come into the world to have pleasure. We’ve got to do our duty, and the more cheerfully we can do it, the better for ourselves and everybody else.LILY.I—I didn’t mean to tell you.MRS. M.He ought to be talked to.LILY.Don’t say anything, please—not yet. Perhaps after tea we can all talk about it, and it may do him good.MAGGIEgoes out.LILYstarts to arrange the tea-cups.MR. MASSEYrouses. Re-enterMAGGIEwith tea-pot.MASSEY.Tea?MAGGIE.Yes, Daddy.MASSEY.In here? There’s no room.MAGGIE.It’s cosey. I’ll bring yours to the sofa.MASSEY.Where am I to put it?—on the floor?MAGGIE.I’ll bring up a table for you if you must have one. You wouldn’t do for a Society gentleman. Can’t you balance a cup on your knee?MASSEY.I don’t mean to try. Hope you haven’t got out those finnicky little cups. I want my own.MAGGIE.I’ve got your own—here. [She holds up a very big breakfast cup, plain white with gilt band.]MASSEY.I didn’t hear you come in, Lil. Where’s Charley?LILY.Coming on.MASSEY.What’ve you done with Foster, Mag?MAGGIE.He’s not coming.MAGGIEtakes tea round.MASSEY.Gone away for the week end?MAGGIE.[taking a cup for herself and sitting down besideLILY.] Oh, no! He’s not coming. That’s all. Lily and I are grass widows. It’s a very nice feeling.MASSEY.It’s all right about you, but Lil looks a bit off. You’ve got a cold. Your eyes are red.LILY.Yes, father.MRS. M.You’ve dropped some bread and butter on the carpet, Alfred.MASSEY.[irritably.] Of course I have! I knew I should.MAGGIE.[running to pick it up.] Percy hasn’t come back with Sybil yet, Dad. We expect they’re sitting in the Park.MASSEY.[his attention taken from his grievance.] What, in this weather?MAGGIE.The seats will be dry and they sit close together, you know. I’ve often seen them do it.MASSEY.[chuckling.] You have, have you? And what about yourself? What about yourself? You! Lord! what a nest of turtle doves it is—nothing but billing and cooing!MAGGIE.Especially Percy.MASSEY.P’raps so. He’s young at it. Well, he’ll be the next, I suppose. And you, too, Mag?MAGGIE.I’m in no hurry.MRS. M.[a little impatiently toMAGGIE.] Don’t talk like that, my dear.MASSEY.Of course she says she isn’t. She’s a modest young woman—I never heardyousay you were in a hurry, my dear.MRS. M.Of course I shouldn’t—to you.MASSEY.Ha, ha! You put on the shy business then. Lord! these women. [MAGGIEmoves towards table.] Come, now, Mag, confess! You think of it sometimes.MAGGIE.I think of it a lot.MASSEY.There you are! There you are! What did I say?MAGGIE.And what do you think I think about it?MASSEY.How should I know. Wedding, I suppose. I bet you never think of anything else after the wedding day.MAGGIE.[slowly.] I think of the wedding dress, and the bridesmaids, and the pages. Shall I have pages, Mum?MRS. M.Maggie!MAGGIE.I suppose I shan’t. I think of the houseI’m going to have, Daddy—and the furniture, and I’m going to have a cat and a dog—MASSEY.[slyly.] Nothing else, of course. Just a cat and a dog. Ha, ha!MRS. M.Alfred, don’t suggest. It isn’t nice.MASSEY.A cat and dog—ha, ha, ha!MAGGIE.Don’t laugh, Daddy. I’m telling you the solemn truth—I think most of all that I shall never, never, never have to go into a shop again.MASSEY.I wish old Foster could hear you.MAGGIE.Why?MASSEY.He’d say—“And where do I come in?”MAGGIE.Well, of course he’ll be there. I wish—MRS. M.Maggie, my dear—I should like a little more tea! Have you got some more hot water?MAGGIE.I’ll get some. [Goes out.]MASSEY.It’s all very well for her to chaff, but she ain’t quite natural about this affair of hers. She ought to be more pleased—excited like.MRS. M.I think they’ve had a little quarrel. People often do. She’s a little bit down about it. We’ve had a talk about it.MASSEY.Well, she can’t have any quarrel about him himself.He’sall right, and got a jolly soft job, too. He’ll make her a good husband. He’s insured for £500.MRS. M.Is he? That’s very nice. If anything happened to him she’d be all right.MASSEY.He’s a thoughtful sort of chap. Of course he’s not exactly young, but he’s steady.MRS. M.The poor child is jealous of his first wife.MASSEY.You don’t say so? Jealous, is she? That’s all right—that’s a healthy feeling. I’m glad she’s jealous, but she’ll get over it once she’s married. Jealous! Lord! Fancy, Mag too—I wouldn’t have thought it. He’ll be head clerk, one of these days—he can stay at Whitakers all his life. He told me.LILY.Do you think he’ll ever get tired of it?MRS. M.What an idea!MASSEY.[roaring.] Tired! Tired of what? A good job? Why ever should he be? He couldn’t have anything better—Ten to half-past five every day of his life, except Saturdays, and then it’sone—and three weeks’ holiday. Think of that?LILY.But, I—EnterMAGGIEwith hot water. The door-bell is heard.MRS. M.Let them in, Lily, my dear—it’s Percy and Syb.LILYgoes out R.Re-enterLILYa moment after, followed byPERCYandSYBIL.SYBILkissesMRS. MASSEYandMAGGIE.SYBIL.Aren’t we dreadfully late, Mrs. Massey? I’msosorry!PERCY.Awfully sorry, but my watch is—MAGGIE.Don’t blame the poor thing—it’s all right.MASSEY.The watch, was it? Come here, my girl!SYBILgoes to him with giggling shyness. He takes her face between his hands.Wasit the watch? Not a bit of it! It was this—[He pats her cheek] these roses. Lucky young dog! Percy! [He kisses her.]MAGGIE.Rather cold in the Park, isn’t it?PERCY.Not very.MAGGIE.There’s a northeast wind. Still, you can find a sheltered seat.PERCY.Just beyond the glass house thing.MAGGIE.What did I tell you? [Looking triumphantly round.]SYBIL.[covering her cheeks.] What a tease you are, Maggie!MASSEY.Don’t listen to her!PERCY.You’re only giving yourself away, Mag. What do you know about sheltered seats and glass houses?MAGGIE.It wasn’t exactly guess work. [Click of gate.]MRS. M.There’s Walter.MAGGIE.What?MASSEY.Isn’t she surprised? Now isn’t she surprised? Fancy! Walter!MAGGIE.He said he wasn’t coming. [She looks out of the window.] Charley is with him.LILY.Will you open the door, Maggie?MAGGIE.[almost at the same moment.] Go to the door, Percy.PERCY.Well, you’re two dutifully loving young women, I must say.MAGGIE.You forget—we’re used to it. [PERCYgoes out.] Come, Sybil, and take off your things.ExeuntSYBILandMAGGIE.EnterWALTER FOSTER,a man of about35,prosperous looking, rather stout of build, and fair.CHARLEYalso enters, andPERCY.FOSTER.[looking round forMAGGIE.] Good afternoon. [Shakes hands withMRS. M.andMASSEY.]MRS. M.She’s gone up with Sybil, Walter.FOSTER.Oh! I was afraid she was out, perhaps.MASSEY.Well, Charles, you’re not looking spry.CHARLEY.I’m a bit seedy—nothing much.MASSEY.And when’s that madman lodger of yours going, eh?CHARLEY.To-morrow.MASSEY.Of all the fools he’s the biggest I know.The door opens, andSYBILandMAGGIEcome back.MAGGIE.I was just telling Sybil, Percy, that tea is laid in the sitting-room. We didn’t know when you’d be in.She crosses up toFOSTERand lifts her face to be kissed.SYBIL.Isn’t she dreadful?MASSEY.Well, you won’t be alone, don’t you worry. Charley here wants some tea, and Lil will have to see he gets it, won’t you, Lil?LILY.Yes, Dad.MAGGIE.[toFOSTER.] Have you had tea?FOSTER.Yes, thanks.Exeunt all, exceptMASSEY,MAGGIEandFOSTER.MASSEY.[finally he looks at theTWO,then at the clock; poking the fire, then humming a little.] Have you seen the “Argus,” Mag?MAGGIE.In the kitchen. I’ll get it. [Makes a move to the door.]MASSEY.No, no, I’m going out.Goes.MAGGIE.Father calls that tact.FOSTER.[coming over to her.] What?MAGGIE.Didn’t you notice? He doesn’t want the “Argus,” really.FOSTER.[just understanding.] You mean he’s left us together?MAGGIE.Yes.FOSTER.Awfully kind of him! I say, Maggie, you don’t mind my coming, do you? I really had to. We—hadn’t made arrangements about Tuesday.MAGGIElaughing a little sadly.MAGGIE.And you couldn’t write them? You are very good to me, Walter.FOSTER.Don’t talk like that.A pause.Maggie, I—you haven’t kissed me yet.MAGGIE.I did—when you came in.FOSTER.No—I kissedyou.MAGGIE.I’m sorry—I—I don’t care for kissing in front of people.FOSTER.[getting bolder.] There’s no one here now.MAGGIErises, turns, and looking at him very straight, then lifts her face—pause—and going to him, kisses him on the lips. He keeps her close to him till she gently moves herself away.I’ve got something here—you said the other day you wanted—you would like one of those Dutch brooches.He puts his hand in his coat pocket and brings out a little parcel.Here it is!MAGGIE.[unfastens it.] Itisgood of you! You are so thoughtful!She looks at him.I suppose— [She kisses him again.]Delighted, he keeps hold of her hand. She looks at him and then at her hand imprisoned in his, and then away at the fire.FOSTER.What’s the matter, dear?MAGGIE.[impatiently drawing her hand away.] It’s still the mood. I can’t help it. I don’t feel like love-making.FOSTER.All right, dear—I won’t bother you.MAGGIE.Perhaps if you did bother—no, never mind. You know I asked you not to come to-day.FOSTER.Yes.MAGGIE.Well, I had no reason, except that I didn’t feel like it. But I ought to feel like you always, didn’t I?FOSTER.You’re different from me. I always feel like you.MAGGIE.Walter, I don’t want to settle down. I want to go and—and do things.FOSTER.What things, dear?MAGGIE.Oh, I don’t know. [A pause.] Did you ever go abroad?FOSTER.Yes, to Paris, once at Easter.MAGGIE.Oh! just for a holiday. Wouldn’t you just love to go out and try your luck? Have a change?—Do something with your hands? Aren’t you ever tired of what you are doing?FOSTER.I can’t say I am, really. Why should I? The work is not too hard. But you like change. I have a good salary, you know, dear. When we are married you can go about a lot, you’ll be quite free.MAGGIE.No, I shan’t.FOSTER.But you can have a servant and all that, you know.MAGGIE.Oh, yes—yes—I understand.FOSTER.If I went abroad—suppose it, for instance—I shouldn’t have you, should I?MAGGIE.No, and a good thing for you. You deserve something better. You know—youknow,Walter, that I don’t love you half or a quarter as you love me.FOSTER.Yes, I know that. But you don’t love anybody else.MAGGIE.No. Have you ever thought that I’m really marrying you to get out of the shop?FOSTER.Of course not. Of course you are glad to leave the shop because you don’t like it. You are so tied.MAGGIE.I should love to be absolutely independent, quite—altogether free for a whole year. Oh!FOSTER.[a little hurt.] You will be free when you are married to me, Maggie. You can do anything you like.MAGGIE.[looking at him despairingly for a moment, then suddenly going up to him.] You are a dear!—you are, really! Marry me quick, Walter!He takes her in his arms delightedly.Quick—or—or—FOSTER.Or what? [Very tenderly.]MAGGIE.Or I shall run away.FOSTER.And where would you run to?MAGGIE.Perhaps if I’d known where to run to—I should have gone before.FOSTER.Dearest, don’t talk like that!MAGGIE.[turning away a little.] But I don’t! I’m safe!MASSEYis heard outside the door, coughing and making a noise. Enters.I’m afraid you’ve caught a cold in the kitchen, Daddy. I thought you went for the “Argus”?MASSEY.So I did. [He looks down at it.]MAGGIE.And you’ve brought the “Family Herald.” [She takes it from him.]EnterMRS. MASSEY,CHARLEY,LILY,PERCYandSYBIL.MRS. M.Play something, Lily.LILYgoes to piano and picks out some music.SYBILandPERCYoccupy one big chair between them.CHARLEYstands idly at window, turning over an album.PERCY.Going to church, mother?MRS. M.No, dear, it’s a very nasty night. Such a cold wind.PERCY.Last Sunday it was the rain—and the week before it was foggy, and the week before—SYBIL.Don’t be such a very rude boy!She puts her hand over his mouth and he takes it and holds it.MRS. M.[complacently.] You’re a bad boy to make fun of your old mother. I went to church this morning.PERCY.You’re getting a oncer, mother.MRS. M.Well, I should only go to sleep if I went.PERCY.Think of the example you set if you put in an appearance.MRS. M.Yes, dear; I have thought of that, but it wouldn’t do for them to see me asleep.FOSTER.[who always has the effect of trying to smooth things over.] I’m sure it is better for you to rest, Mrs. Massey, than walk such a distance twice a day!MRS. M.Yes, it is rather a long way. It’s quite a quarter of an hour’s walk, and I don’t care to ride on Sundays.LILYplays, choosing the mournful hymn, “Abide with me.”CHARLEYfidgets, goes to the piano and then back again to the window.MASSEY.Can’t you find a seat, Charles? You look uncomfortable.CHARLEY.Plenty, thanks. Sybil only has half a one.SYBIL.Oh, Mr. Wilson. [She fidgets away fromPERCY,who pulls her back again.]LILYhas played the tune through. She stops.MRS. M.That’s such a nice tune, don’t you think, Walter?FOSTER.Very!—rather plaintive, but soothing.LILYstarts another—this time “Sun of my Soul.”CHARLEY.For heaven’s sake, Lil, play something cheerful.LILYstops, turns undecidedly on the stool, looks round imploringly atCHARLEY,turns a few pages and then rises and goes out of the room hurriedly.SYBIL.She’s crying!MASSEY.What?MRS. M.You’ve hurt her, Charley, speaking like that. There was nothing to get cross about. She came this afternoon crying.CHARLEY.I’ve done nothing! I—ExitMRS. MASSEYin much indignation.MASSEY.Had a tiff?CHARLEY.A tiff—we don’t tiff.MASSEY.Well, then, don’t shout at her like that. [ToSYBIL.] Here—are you sure she was crying?SYBIL.Yes, quite.MASSEY.That’s queer. She didn’t use to.CHARLEY.She’s been worrying, I expect. Women worry so quick.MASSEY.What’s she got to worry about? A bit hysterical, perhaps.Re-enterMRS. MASSEY.MASSEY.Is she better?MRS. M.She’s got a headache, she says. But it isn’t that; I know what’s the matter. When she came to-day she could hardly speak—CHARLEY.[interrupting.] Is she worrying over me?MASSEY.What’s she got to worry over you about?CHARLEY.I happened to say—I got the hump, I think. . . . I feel a bit restless. . . .MRS. M.[hotly.] You know what it is well enough. You want to go away with that Tennant man and leave your wife—MASSEY.[shouting.] What!SYBILlooks shocked,PERCYastonished, whileFOSTERtries to pretend he didn’t hear.MRS. M.The poor child’s breaking her heart because she says he wants to leave her.CHARLEY.I never said anything of the kind—I never thought of such a thing, I—MRS. M.Doyou want to go away with that man?MASSEY.I should think you’re mad, both of you, to talk about it. Go with who? What for? What’re you talking about?MRS. M.Sybil told me distinctly this afternoon that Charley wanted to go to Australia. She nearly cried her eyes out. Of course that means he wants to leave her. What else could it mean? She said he’d been funny and she was miserable. I said Charley ought to be ashamed of himself to want to go away like that, and so I think so.MASSEY.[sitting up very straight and looking angry.] What’s all this, Charley? What . . .FOSTERon tip toe slowly goes to door.CHARLEY.Don’t go, Foster. Let’s have all the family in. You’re going to be part of it some day.FOSTER.[sitting down again.] I’m quite ready to go.CHARLEY.No, don’t. Let’s have it out. You may as well know, all of you.MRS. M.[with a resignation of despair.] Then you do want—to go and leave her? It’s disgraceful!CHARLEY.[Angrily.] What stuff you all talk! I—MRS. M.Do you or do you not want to go?CHARLEY.Yes, I do!General consternation.MRS. M.There! I said so.EnterMAGGIE.How’s the poor dear?MAGGIE.She says her head is better and she will come down in a minute. What’s the matter?MRS. M.Charley wants to go to Australia and leave his wife. He’stoldus so.CHARLEY.Well, suppose it was true, wouldn’t it be better than going without telling you? But it isn’t true.MASSEY.Do you want to take Lil with you?CHARLEY.How could I?EnterLILY—all mutter words of encouragement. General movement towards her. Everybody offers chairs in sympathy. She sits by her father.CHARLEY.Look here now, just listen! It’s quitetrue I want to go. I want to do as Tennant’s done, chuck everything and try my luck in the Colonies. As soon as I had a fair start Lil would come out.MASSEY.[interrupting.] Yes, and suppose you failed? You should have thought of that before you married. You can’t run off when you like when you’ve a wife.CHARLEY.[excitedly.] But why not?MRS. M.[interrupting.] Why not?—just hear him.CHARLEY.It’s that I’m just sick of the office and the grind every week and no change!—nothing new, nothing happening. Why, I haven’t seen anything of the world. I just settled down to it—why?—just because other chaps do, because it’s the right thing. I only live for Saturday—PERCY.So do I!—so does everybody!CHARLEY.But they shouldn’t—PERCY.You don’t mean to suggest, I hope, that we ought tolikeour work, do you?MASSEY.Do you suppose I like plumbing? Do you think I ever did? No, but I stuck to it, and now look at me, got a nice little bit in the bank and bought my own house. [looks proudly round.] Of course, I hated it, just as you do.MAGGIE.Then why didn’t you try something else, Daddy?MASSEY.I like that! What could I do? I was taught plumbing. We don’t have choice. Your grandfather put me to it, and of course I stuck to it.MAGGIE.But why didn’t you ask for a choice?MASSEY.Me! Why should I do such a thing? Father was a plumber, and if it was good enough for him, it was good enough for me. Suppose I had thrown it up and gone to Canada for a lark? Anicething for my family. [ToMAGGIE.] You wouldn’t have had the education you’ve had, my girl. We’ve got to livesomehow, and if you get a good job stick to it, say I—none of your highty flighty notions. Live ’em down!FOSTER.[gently.] We all have moments of discontent, I fancy, but we get over them.MAGGIE.[turns toFOSTER.] Did you ever have any?FOSTER.A long time ago, but I’m quite safe now, dear.MAGGIEshrugs her shoulders and turns half away impatiently.CHARLEY.I never said you couldn’t live them down. I never said, did I, that I was going away? I only said I should like to. Did I ever say more, Lil?LILY.[meekly.] No, dear.MRS. M.But you shouldn’t want to. It’s ridiculous.CHARLEY.It wasn’t till Tennant started about his going—MRS. M.I knew it was that man Tennant—CHARLEY.. . . that I thought of it. But if he threw up his job, I thought, why shouldn’t I?MASSEY.Because he’s a fool, you needn’t be another.MAGGIE.He’s not a fool, and I wish Charley could go, too.LILY.Maggie, how can you?MAGGIE.[crossing to fireplace.] Why should a young man be bound down to one trade all his life? I wish I were a man—I’d—MRS. M.Well, you’re not, so it doesn’t matter.CHARLEY.Of course it must make a difference my being married.MASSEY.Remember your wife’s here and don’t talk as if you were sorry about it.CHARLEY.[turning on them fiercely.] For heaven’s sake, can’t you listen fair? My wife needn’t go to her father for protection from me? I’m not a scoundrel just because I’ve got an idea, am I?A pause—nobody answers.But I’ll tell you what, marriage shouldn’t tie a man up as if he was a slave. I don’t want to desert Lily—she’s my wife and I’m proud of it—but because I married, am I never to strike out in anything? People like us are just cowards. We seize on the first soft job—and there we stick, like whipped dogs. We’re afraid to ask for anything, afraid to ask for a rise even—we wait till it comes. And when the boss says he won’t give you one—do we up and say, “Then I’ll go somewhere where I can get more.” Not a bit of it! What’s the good of sticking on here all our lives? Why shouldn’t somebody risk something sometimes? We’re all so jolly frightened—we’ve got no spunk—that’s where the others get the hold over us—we slog on day after day and when they cut our wages down we take it as meek as Moses. We’re not men, we’re machines. Next week I’ve got my choice—either to take less money to keep my job or to chuck it and try something else. You say—everybody says—keep the job. I expect I shall—I’m a coward like all of you—but what I want to know is, why can’t a man have a fit of restlessness and all that, without being thought a villain?FOSTER.But after all, we undertake responsibilities when we marry, Mr. Wilson. We can’t overlook them.CHARLEY.I don’t want to. But I don’t think we ought to talk as if when a man gets married he must always bring in just the same money.FOSTER.If you have the misfortune to have your salary reduced, nobody would blame you.CHARLEY.I don’t know. I felt a bit of a beast when I had to tell Lil about that.MAGGIE.[suddenly.] If you went away, Lily could come and live with us.MRS. M.[scandalised.] How could she? Everybody would think she was divorced or something.FOSTER.Live withus,dear?MAGGIE.[impatiently.] No, here, I meant.CHARLEY.I’ve got a little cash put by that she could live on.Don’tcry, Lil, for heaven’s sake! Can’t any of you see my point—or won’t you?MASSEY.I suppose you’re a Socialist.CHARLEY.Doesn’t anybody but a Socialist ever have an idea?MASSEY.They’re mostly mad, if that’s what you mean. And they’re always talking about the wickedness of the boss and the sweetness of the working man.CHARLEY.I never said anything about either, and I’m not a Socialist.PERCY.You’ll be better when Tennant’s gone.CHARLEY.[viciously.] Just you wait till you’re two years older, my boy.FOSTER.You see it isn’t as if you had any prospects in the Colonies. Has Mr. Tennant?CHARLEY.He’s got an introduction to a firm.MASSEY.What’s the good of that?LILY.[tearfully.] Perhaps I could go with Charlie. I’m quite willing to—rough it a little.MAGGIE.You’d help him more by staying here.MRS. M.He doesn’t want her. He said so.LILY.[still tearfully.] If Charley really means it—I think—I—MRS. M.My dear, don’t think anything about it. It’s worrying you and making you ill—you want nursing, not frightening. [This with a glare of indignation atCHARLEY.]LILY.I’m all right.CHARLEY.[suddenly dropping his defiance.] Oh, let’s go home, Lil. You’re tired.MRS. M.Have you just noticed that?MAGGIE.Mother!MRS. M.She’s my child, and if her husband won’t think of her, I must.LILY.Mother, dear, Charley means all right. I’m sure he does. Yes, dear—I’m quite ready to go.LILYandMRS. MASSEYgo out.[Transcriber’s note: stage direction missing from source.]FOSTER.[with the air of pouring oil on troubled waters.] Well, at any rate, it needn’t be settled tonight. Perhaps after a night’s rest—MAGGIE.[vehemently.] I like impulse.MASSEY.I expect you do. You don’t know what’s good for you.MAGGIE.Well, at any rate, Daddy, you can’t say I have much. There’s not much chance at Jones & Freeman’s.PERCY.So you’ve caught it, too, Mag.SYBIL.Don’t tease.EnterLILY,dressed for going out, alsoMRS. MASSEY.LILYgoes round, kissing and shaking hands, with a watery smile and a forced tearful cheerfulness.CHARLEY.[without going all round and calling from the door.] Good night, all!ExeuntLILYandCHARLEY.MRS. M.Well, I must say—PERCY.Oh, let’s drop it, Mother. Play something, Maggie.MAGGIE.I don’t want to.MRS. M.Walter would like to hear something, wouldn’t you, Walter?FOSTER.If Maggie feels like it.MAGGIE.She doesn’t feel like it.MASSEY.Be as pleasant as you can, my girl—Charley’s enough for one evening.MAGGIEgoes to the piano and sitting down plays noisily with both pedals on, the chorus, “Off to Philadelphia.”MRS. M.Maggie, it’s Sunday!MAGGIE.I forgot!MRS. M.You shouldn’t forget such things—Sybil, my dear—SYBIL.I don’t play.MASSEY.Rubbish! Come on!SYBILgoes to the piano andPERCYfollows her.PERCY.[very near toSYBILand helping to find the music.] Charley is a rotter! What d’ye think he was telling me the other day?SYBIL.I don’t know.PERCY.Told me to be sure I’d got the right girl.SYBIL.Brute!PERCY.What do you think I said? Darling!Kisses her behind music.MASSEY.[looking round.] Take a bigger sheet.SYBILsits at piano quickly and plays the chorus to “Count your many Blessings.”To which they all sing—Count your blessings, count them one by one,Count your blessings, see what God has done.Count your blessings, count them one by one,And it will surprise you what the Lord has done.CURTAIN
ACT IIISCENE: The sitting-room at “Sunnybank,” Hammersmith. There is no centre table, but there are various small ones against the wall and in the window. There is a piano, a tall palm in the window, and one or two wicker chairs that creak. The rest of the furniture is upholstered in saddlebags with antimacassars over the sofa head and armchairs. Gramophone in the corner. Big mirror over mantelpiece. Gilt clock in glass case and lustres.MRS. MASSEYis sleeping in one armchair.MR. MASSEYis asleep on sofa, pulled across centre.MAGGIEsits reading at small table.MAGGIEsoftly rises and goes to fire. She pokes it and a piece of coal falls out.MRS. M.turns her head.MAGGIE.I’m so sorry, Mother, I tried to poke it gently.MRS. M.I was hardly asleep, my dear.MAGGIE.Mother!—you’ve been sleeping for half an hour!MRS. M.It didn’t seem like it, dear. Why, your father’s asleep.MAGGIE.Isn’t that extraordinary!MRS. M.[admiringly.] How soundly he sleeps! What’s the time?MAGGIE.Four o’clock.MRS. M.I should have thought they’d have been here now.MAGGIE.Not Percy and Sybil, I hope. You don’t expectthem,until the last minute, do you?MRS. M.No, dear—of course not.MAGGIE.I wouldn’t walk the streets this afternoon for any man.MRS. M.I don’t suppose they find it cold.MAGGIE.Oh, I daresay they’re sitting in the Park.MRS. M.I hope they won’t be late for tea. I shall want mine soon.MAGGIE.I’ll put on the kettle now and when Lil and Charley come, we will have tea and not wait for the others. We’ll have it cosily in here. [She goes out, returning with kettle, which she puts on fire. Sits close toMRS. MASSEY.]MAGGIE.Mother!MRS. M.Yes.MAGGIE.Mother, did you love father when you married him—very much, I mean, very, very much!MRS. M.[much astonished.] What a question! Of course.MAGGIE.More than any other man you’d ever seen?MRS. M.Of course!MAGGIE.More than everything and everybody?MRS. M.Of course!MAGGIE.Well, there’s something wrong with me, then—or else with Walter. I don’t feel a bit like that. There’s no “of course” with me. I wouldn’t go and sit in the Park with him this afternoon for anything.MRS. M.I suppose you’ve quarrelled?MAGGIE.No, we haven’t. I wish we had.MRS. M.Maggie! Don’t talk like that.MAGGIE.But I do. He wants me to marry him next month.MRS. M.And a very good thing too.MAGGIE.He says he’s found a house, and wants me to go and look at it.Idon’t want to see it.MRS. M.What’s come over you lately? You used to be satisfied. Walter is very nice and attentive—in fact, quite devoted.MAGGIE.Yes, I know. Just like he was to his first wife, I expect.MRS. M.You’ve such an absurd prejudice against widowers, Maggie. You’re jealous.MAGGIE.I’m not. Not a bit. But I do wish he would do something, and not worry about getting married.MRS. M.The poor man is doing something, I should think, running after you every spare minute, and house hunting.MAGGIE.I would much rather he went to Australia—or somewhere.MRS. M.That’s that absurd Tennant man again. You’re not in love withhim,I hope?MAGGIE.[promptly.] Not a scrap! I find him rather dull.MRS. M.Then what is it?MAGGIE.I should like Walter to go out and seek his fortune instead of getting it in a coal merchant’s office.MRS. M.He mightn’t come back.MAGGIE.[thoughtfully.] Perhaps he wouldn’t.Click of gate.MRS. M.There’s the gate, Maggie.MAGGIEgoes out R. She comes back in a moment, followed byLILY.LILYgoes to her mother and kisses her. She looks at her father.LILY.Father asleep?MAGGIE.What a question. Shall I take your hat and coat?LILYtakes them off and hands them toMAGGIE.You’re shivering! Sit close to the fire. Aren’t you well?LILY.[in a pathetic voice.] Yes, I’m well, thank you.MRS. M.Are you alone?LILY.Charley is coming on. He’s gone to the station with Mr. Tennant.MRS. M.To see him off?LILY.No—Mr. Tennant goes to-morrow.MAGGIEgoes out with hat and coat. She brings back with her a tray, with cloth, etc., and prepares for tea on a small table.MRS. M.Have you got another lodger?LILY.No. We—we’ve got to have two.MRS. M.Two? What for?MAGGIEstops to listen.LILY.They’ve reduced Charley’s salary.MRS. M.[sitting up energetically.] Reduced it? What for?LILY.I don’t know—I . . . oh, I’m so miserable. [She suddenly covers her face with her hands and sobs.]MAGGIE.[stooping over her.] Lil, dear, you’re not crying overthat,are you?LILY.[sobbing.] Oh, no, no! It doesn’t matter. We can make room for two lodgers quite well. I don’t mind the work.MAGGIE.Then what is it?MRS. M.I suppose you and Charley have quarrelled?MAGGIE.Tell us, dear.LILY.Charley—wants—to go away—and leave me.MRS. M.What? What’s this?LILY.[looking apprehensively round at the sleeping figure.] Hush! don’t wake father!MAGGIE.He won’t wake till the tea-cups rattle. Charley wants to leaveYOU!MRS. M.Iknewthey’d quarrelled.LILY.We haven’t—not exactly—but he’s been sofunnyever since Mr. Tennant said he was going to Australia. He wants to go too.MRS. M.What next? Charley ought to be ashamed of himself. Go to Australia indeed! He forgets he is married.LILY.I don’t want him to stay just because he’s married, if he wants to leave me.MAGGIE.You are quitewrong,I’m sure, Lil. He doesn’t want to leave you at all. He wants to leave his work.MRS. M.Perhaps he does. So do other people very often. Suppose we all stopped work when we didn’t like it? A pretty muddle the world would be in. Charley is forgetting there is such a thing as duty.LILY.He’s very unhappy—and I—I can’t make him happy.MRS. M.So he ought to be miserable with such ideas in his head. I never heard of such a thing! The sooner Mr. Tennant goes the better. He’s been putting Charley up to this, I suppose?MAGGIE.You don’t know Mr. Tennant, mother. He’s not that sort.MRS. M.Then what made Charley think of it at all?MAGGIE.It’s just a feeling you get sometimes, mother. You can’t help it. Office work is awf’lly monotonous.MRS. M.Of course it is. So is all work. Do you expect work to be pleasant? Does anybody ever like work? The idea is absurd. Anyone would think work was to be pleasant. You don’t come into the world to have pleasure. We’ve got to do our duty, and the more cheerfully we can do it, the better for ourselves and everybody else.LILY.I—I didn’t mean to tell you.MRS. M.He ought to be talked to.LILY.Don’t say anything, please—not yet. Perhaps after tea we can all talk about it, and it may do him good.MAGGIEgoes out.LILYstarts to arrange the tea-cups.MR. MASSEYrouses. Re-enterMAGGIEwith tea-pot.MASSEY.Tea?MAGGIE.Yes, Daddy.MASSEY.In here? There’s no room.MAGGIE.It’s cosey. I’ll bring yours to the sofa.MASSEY.Where am I to put it?—on the floor?MAGGIE.I’ll bring up a table for you if you must have one. You wouldn’t do for a Society gentleman. Can’t you balance a cup on your knee?MASSEY.I don’t mean to try. Hope you haven’t got out those finnicky little cups. I want my own.MAGGIE.I’ve got your own—here. [She holds up a very big breakfast cup, plain white with gilt band.]MASSEY.I didn’t hear you come in, Lil. Where’s Charley?LILY.Coming on.MASSEY.What’ve you done with Foster, Mag?MAGGIE.He’s not coming.MAGGIEtakes tea round.MASSEY.Gone away for the week end?MAGGIE.[taking a cup for herself and sitting down besideLILY.] Oh, no! He’s not coming. That’s all. Lily and I are grass widows. It’s a very nice feeling.MASSEY.It’s all right about you, but Lil looks a bit off. You’ve got a cold. Your eyes are red.LILY.Yes, father.MRS. M.You’ve dropped some bread and butter on the carpet, Alfred.MASSEY.[irritably.] Of course I have! I knew I should.MAGGIE.[running to pick it up.] Percy hasn’t come back with Sybil yet, Dad. We expect they’re sitting in the Park.MASSEY.[his attention taken from his grievance.] What, in this weather?MAGGIE.The seats will be dry and they sit close together, you know. I’ve often seen them do it.MASSEY.[chuckling.] You have, have you? And what about yourself? What about yourself? You! Lord! what a nest of turtle doves it is—nothing but billing and cooing!MAGGIE.Especially Percy.MASSEY.P’raps so. He’s young at it. Well, he’ll be the next, I suppose. And you, too, Mag?MAGGIE.I’m in no hurry.MRS. M.[a little impatiently toMAGGIE.] Don’t talk like that, my dear.MASSEY.Of course she says she isn’t. She’s a modest young woman—I never heardyousay you were in a hurry, my dear.MRS. M.Of course I shouldn’t—to you.MASSEY.Ha, ha! You put on the shy business then. Lord! these women. [MAGGIEmoves towards table.] Come, now, Mag, confess! You think of it sometimes.MAGGIE.I think of it a lot.MASSEY.There you are! There you are! What did I say?MAGGIE.And what do you think I think about it?MASSEY.How should I know. Wedding, I suppose. I bet you never think of anything else after the wedding day.MAGGIE.[slowly.] I think of the wedding dress, and the bridesmaids, and the pages. Shall I have pages, Mum?MRS. M.Maggie!MAGGIE.I suppose I shan’t. I think of the houseI’m going to have, Daddy—and the furniture, and I’m going to have a cat and a dog—MASSEY.[slyly.] Nothing else, of course. Just a cat and a dog. Ha, ha!MRS. M.Alfred, don’t suggest. It isn’t nice.MASSEY.A cat and dog—ha, ha, ha!MAGGIE.Don’t laugh, Daddy. I’m telling you the solemn truth—I think most of all that I shall never, never, never have to go into a shop again.MASSEY.I wish old Foster could hear you.MAGGIE.Why?MASSEY.He’d say—“And where do I come in?”MAGGIE.Well, of course he’ll be there. I wish—MRS. M.Maggie, my dear—I should like a little more tea! Have you got some more hot water?MAGGIE.I’ll get some. [Goes out.]MASSEY.It’s all very well for her to chaff, but she ain’t quite natural about this affair of hers. She ought to be more pleased—excited like.MRS. M.I think they’ve had a little quarrel. People often do. She’s a little bit down about it. We’ve had a talk about it.MASSEY.Well, she can’t have any quarrel about him himself.He’sall right, and got a jolly soft job, too. He’ll make her a good husband. He’s insured for £500.MRS. M.Is he? That’s very nice. If anything happened to him she’d be all right.MASSEY.He’s a thoughtful sort of chap. Of course he’s not exactly young, but he’s steady.MRS. M.The poor child is jealous of his first wife.MASSEY.You don’t say so? Jealous, is she? That’s all right—that’s a healthy feeling. I’m glad she’s jealous, but she’ll get over it once she’s married. Jealous! Lord! Fancy, Mag too—I wouldn’t have thought it. He’ll be head clerk, one of these days—he can stay at Whitakers all his life. He told me.LILY.Do you think he’ll ever get tired of it?MRS. M.What an idea!MASSEY.[roaring.] Tired! Tired of what? A good job? Why ever should he be? He couldn’t have anything better—Ten to half-past five every day of his life, except Saturdays, and then it’sone—and three weeks’ holiday. Think of that?LILY.But, I—EnterMAGGIEwith hot water. The door-bell is heard.MRS. M.Let them in, Lily, my dear—it’s Percy and Syb.LILYgoes out R.Re-enterLILYa moment after, followed byPERCYandSYBIL.SYBILkissesMRS. MASSEYandMAGGIE.SYBIL.Aren’t we dreadfully late, Mrs. Massey? I’msosorry!PERCY.Awfully sorry, but my watch is—MAGGIE.Don’t blame the poor thing—it’s all right.MASSEY.The watch, was it? Come here, my girl!SYBILgoes to him with giggling shyness. He takes her face between his hands.Wasit the watch? Not a bit of it! It was this—[He pats her cheek] these roses. Lucky young dog! Percy! [He kisses her.]MAGGIE.Rather cold in the Park, isn’t it?PERCY.Not very.MAGGIE.There’s a northeast wind. Still, you can find a sheltered seat.PERCY.Just beyond the glass house thing.MAGGIE.What did I tell you? [Looking triumphantly round.]SYBIL.[covering her cheeks.] What a tease you are, Maggie!MASSEY.Don’t listen to her!PERCY.You’re only giving yourself away, Mag. What do you know about sheltered seats and glass houses?MAGGIE.It wasn’t exactly guess work. [Click of gate.]MRS. M.There’s Walter.MAGGIE.What?MASSEY.Isn’t she surprised? Now isn’t she surprised? Fancy! Walter!MAGGIE.He said he wasn’t coming. [She looks out of the window.] Charley is with him.LILY.Will you open the door, Maggie?MAGGIE.[almost at the same moment.] Go to the door, Percy.PERCY.Well, you’re two dutifully loving young women, I must say.MAGGIE.You forget—we’re used to it. [PERCYgoes out.] Come, Sybil, and take off your things.ExeuntSYBILandMAGGIE.EnterWALTER FOSTER,a man of about35,prosperous looking, rather stout of build, and fair.CHARLEYalso enters, andPERCY.FOSTER.[looking round forMAGGIE.] Good afternoon. [Shakes hands withMRS. M.andMASSEY.]MRS. M.She’s gone up with Sybil, Walter.FOSTER.Oh! I was afraid she was out, perhaps.MASSEY.Well, Charles, you’re not looking spry.CHARLEY.I’m a bit seedy—nothing much.MASSEY.And when’s that madman lodger of yours going, eh?CHARLEY.To-morrow.MASSEY.Of all the fools he’s the biggest I know.The door opens, andSYBILandMAGGIEcome back.MAGGIE.I was just telling Sybil, Percy, that tea is laid in the sitting-room. We didn’t know when you’d be in.She crosses up toFOSTERand lifts her face to be kissed.SYBIL.Isn’t she dreadful?MASSEY.Well, you won’t be alone, don’t you worry. Charley here wants some tea, and Lil will have to see he gets it, won’t you, Lil?LILY.Yes, Dad.MAGGIE.[toFOSTER.] Have you had tea?FOSTER.Yes, thanks.Exeunt all, exceptMASSEY,MAGGIEandFOSTER.MASSEY.[finally he looks at theTWO,then at the clock; poking the fire, then humming a little.] Have you seen the “Argus,” Mag?MAGGIE.In the kitchen. I’ll get it. [Makes a move to the door.]MASSEY.No, no, I’m going out.Goes.MAGGIE.Father calls that tact.FOSTER.[coming over to her.] What?MAGGIE.Didn’t you notice? He doesn’t want the “Argus,” really.FOSTER.[just understanding.] You mean he’s left us together?MAGGIE.Yes.FOSTER.Awfully kind of him! I say, Maggie, you don’t mind my coming, do you? I really had to. We—hadn’t made arrangements about Tuesday.MAGGIElaughing a little sadly.MAGGIE.And you couldn’t write them? You are very good to me, Walter.FOSTER.Don’t talk like that.A pause.Maggie, I—you haven’t kissed me yet.MAGGIE.I did—when you came in.FOSTER.No—I kissedyou.MAGGIE.I’m sorry—I—I don’t care for kissing in front of people.FOSTER.[getting bolder.] There’s no one here now.MAGGIErises, turns, and looking at him very straight, then lifts her face—pause—and going to him, kisses him on the lips. He keeps her close to him till she gently moves herself away.I’ve got something here—you said the other day you wanted—you would like one of those Dutch brooches.He puts his hand in his coat pocket and brings out a little parcel.Here it is!MAGGIE.[unfastens it.] Itisgood of you! You are so thoughtful!She looks at him.I suppose— [She kisses him again.]Delighted, he keeps hold of her hand. She looks at him and then at her hand imprisoned in his, and then away at the fire.FOSTER.What’s the matter, dear?MAGGIE.[impatiently drawing her hand away.] It’s still the mood. I can’t help it. I don’t feel like love-making.FOSTER.All right, dear—I won’t bother you.MAGGIE.Perhaps if you did bother—no, never mind. You know I asked you not to come to-day.FOSTER.Yes.MAGGIE.Well, I had no reason, except that I didn’t feel like it. But I ought to feel like you always, didn’t I?FOSTER.You’re different from me. I always feel like you.MAGGIE.Walter, I don’t want to settle down. I want to go and—and do things.FOSTER.What things, dear?MAGGIE.Oh, I don’t know. [A pause.] Did you ever go abroad?FOSTER.Yes, to Paris, once at Easter.MAGGIE.Oh! just for a holiday. Wouldn’t you just love to go out and try your luck? Have a change?—Do something with your hands? Aren’t you ever tired of what you are doing?FOSTER.I can’t say I am, really. Why should I? The work is not too hard. But you like change. I have a good salary, you know, dear. When we are married you can go about a lot, you’ll be quite free.MAGGIE.No, I shan’t.FOSTER.But you can have a servant and all that, you know.MAGGIE.Oh, yes—yes—I understand.FOSTER.If I went abroad—suppose it, for instance—I shouldn’t have you, should I?MAGGIE.No, and a good thing for you. You deserve something better. You know—youknow,Walter, that I don’t love you half or a quarter as you love me.FOSTER.Yes, I know that. But you don’t love anybody else.MAGGIE.No. Have you ever thought that I’m really marrying you to get out of the shop?FOSTER.Of course not. Of course you are glad to leave the shop because you don’t like it. You are so tied.MAGGIE.I should love to be absolutely independent, quite—altogether free for a whole year. Oh!FOSTER.[a little hurt.] You will be free when you are married to me, Maggie. You can do anything you like.MAGGIE.[looking at him despairingly for a moment, then suddenly going up to him.] You are a dear!—you are, really! Marry me quick, Walter!He takes her in his arms delightedly.Quick—or—or—FOSTER.Or what? [Very tenderly.]MAGGIE.Or I shall run away.FOSTER.And where would you run to?MAGGIE.Perhaps if I’d known where to run to—I should have gone before.FOSTER.Dearest, don’t talk like that!MAGGIE.[turning away a little.] But I don’t! I’m safe!MASSEYis heard outside the door, coughing and making a noise. Enters.I’m afraid you’ve caught a cold in the kitchen, Daddy. I thought you went for the “Argus”?MASSEY.So I did. [He looks down at it.]MAGGIE.And you’ve brought the “Family Herald.” [She takes it from him.]EnterMRS. MASSEY,CHARLEY,LILY,PERCYandSYBIL.MRS. M.Play something, Lily.LILYgoes to piano and picks out some music.SYBILandPERCYoccupy one big chair between them.CHARLEYstands idly at window, turning over an album.PERCY.Going to church, mother?MRS. M.No, dear, it’s a very nasty night. Such a cold wind.PERCY.Last Sunday it was the rain—and the week before it was foggy, and the week before—SYBIL.Don’t be such a very rude boy!She puts her hand over his mouth and he takes it and holds it.MRS. M.[complacently.] You’re a bad boy to make fun of your old mother. I went to church this morning.PERCY.You’re getting a oncer, mother.MRS. M.Well, I should only go to sleep if I went.PERCY.Think of the example you set if you put in an appearance.MRS. M.Yes, dear; I have thought of that, but it wouldn’t do for them to see me asleep.FOSTER.[who always has the effect of trying to smooth things over.] I’m sure it is better for you to rest, Mrs. Massey, than walk such a distance twice a day!MRS. M.Yes, it is rather a long way. It’s quite a quarter of an hour’s walk, and I don’t care to ride on Sundays.LILYplays, choosing the mournful hymn, “Abide with me.”CHARLEYfidgets, goes to the piano and then back again to the window.MASSEY.Can’t you find a seat, Charles? You look uncomfortable.CHARLEY.Plenty, thanks. Sybil only has half a one.SYBIL.Oh, Mr. Wilson. [She fidgets away fromPERCY,who pulls her back again.]LILYhas played the tune through. She stops.MRS. M.That’s such a nice tune, don’t you think, Walter?FOSTER.Very!—rather plaintive, but soothing.LILYstarts another—this time “Sun of my Soul.”CHARLEY.For heaven’s sake, Lil, play something cheerful.LILYstops, turns undecidedly on the stool, looks round imploringly atCHARLEY,turns a few pages and then rises and goes out of the room hurriedly.SYBIL.She’s crying!MASSEY.What?MRS. M.You’ve hurt her, Charley, speaking like that. There was nothing to get cross about. She came this afternoon crying.CHARLEY.I’ve done nothing! I—ExitMRS. MASSEYin much indignation.MASSEY.Had a tiff?CHARLEY.A tiff—we don’t tiff.MASSEY.Well, then, don’t shout at her like that. [ToSYBIL.] Here—are you sure she was crying?SYBIL.Yes, quite.MASSEY.That’s queer. She didn’t use to.CHARLEY.She’s been worrying, I expect. Women worry so quick.MASSEY.What’s she got to worry about? A bit hysterical, perhaps.Re-enterMRS. MASSEY.MASSEY.Is she better?MRS. M.She’s got a headache, she says. But it isn’t that; I know what’s the matter. When she came to-day she could hardly speak—CHARLEY.[interrupting.] Is she worrying over me?MASSEY.What’s she got to worry over you about?CHARLEY.I happened to say—I got the hump, I think. . . . I feel a bit restless. . . .MRS. M.[hotly.] You know what it is well enough. You want to go away with that Tennant man and leave your wife—MASSEY.[shouting.] What!SYBILlooks shocked,PERCYastonished, whileFOSTERtries to pretend he didn’t hear.MRS. M.The poor child’s breaking her heart because she says he wants to leave her.CHARLEY.I never said anything of the kind—I never thought of such a thing, I—MRS. M.Doyou want to go away with that man?MASSEY.I should think you’re mad, both of you, to talk about it. Go with who? What for? What’re you talking about?MRS. M.Sybil told me distinctly this afternoon that Charley wanted to go to Australia. She nearly cried her eyes out. Of course that means he wants to leave her. What else could it mean? She said he’d been funny and she was miserable. I said Charley ought to be ashamed of himself to want to go away like that, and so I think so.MASSEY.[sitting up very straight and looking angry.] What’s all this, Charley? What . . .FOSTERon tip toe slowly goes to door.CHARLEY.Don’t go, Foster. Let’s have all the family in. You’re going to be part of it some day.FOSTER.[sitting down again.] I’m quite ready to go.CHARLEY.No, don’t. Let’s have it out. You may as well know, all of you.MRS. M.[with a resignation of despair.] Then you do want—to go and leave her? It’s disgraceful!CHARLEY.[Angrily.] What stuff you all talk! I—MRS. M.Do you or do you not want to go?CHARLEY.Yes, I do!General consternation.MRS. M.There! I said so.EnterMAGGIE.How’s the poor dear?MAGGIE.She says her head is better and she will come down in a minute. What’s the matter?MRS. M.Charley wants to go to Australia and leave his wife. He’stoldus so.CHARLEY.Well, suppose it was true, wouldn’t it be better than going without telling you? But it isn’t true.MASSEY.Do you want to take Lil with you?CHARLEY.How could I?EnterLILY—all mutter words of encouragement. General movement towards her. Everybody offers chairs in sympathy. She sits by her father.CHARLEY.Look here now, just listen! It’s quitetrue I want to go. I want to do as Tennant’s done, chuck everything and try my luck in the Colonies. As soon as I had a fair start Lil would come out.MASSEY.[interrupting.] Yes, and suppose you failed? You should have thought of that before you married. You can’t run off when you like when you’ve a wife.CHARLEY.[excitedly.] But why not?MRS. M.[interrupting.] Why not?—just hear him.CHARLEY.It’s that I’m just sick of the office and the grind every week and no change!—nothing new, nothing happening. Why, I haven’t seen anything of the world. I just settled down to it—why?—just because other chaps do, because it’s the right thing. I only live for Saturday—PERCY.So do I!—so does everybody!CHARLEY.But they shouldn’t—PERCY.You don’t mean to suggest, I hope, that we ought tolikeour work, do you?MASSEY.Do you suppose I like plumbing? Do you think I ever did? No, but I stuck to it, and now look at me, got a nice little bit in the bank and bought my own house. [looks proudly round.] Of course, I hated it, just as you do.MAGGIE.Then why didn’t you try something else, Daddy?MASSEY.I like that! What could I do? I was taught plumbing. We don’t have choice. Your grandfather put me to it, and of course I stuck to it.MAGGIE.But why didn’t you ask for a choice?MASSEY.Me! Why should I do such a thing? Father was a plumber, and if it was good enough for him, it was good enough for me. Suppose I had thrown it up and gone to Canada for a lark? Anicething for my family. [ToMAGGIE.] You wouldn’t have had the education you’ve had, my girl. We’ve got to livesomehow, and if you get a good job stick to it, say I—none of your highty flighty notions. Live ’em down!FOSTER.[gently.] We all have moments of discontent, I fancy, but we get over them.MAGGIE.[turns toFOSTER.] Did you ever have any?FOSTER.A long time ago, but I’m quite safe now, dear.MAGGIEshrugs her shoulders and turns half away impatiently.CHARLEY.I never said you couldn’t live them down. I never said, did I, that I was going away? I only said I should like to. Did I ever say more, Lil?LILY.[meekly.] No, dear.MRS. M.But you shouldn’t want to. It’s ridiculous.CHARLEY.It wasn’t till Tennant started about his going—MRS. M.I knew it was that man Tennant—CHARLEY.. . . that I thought of it. But if he threw up his job, I thought, why shouldn’t I?MASSEY.Because he’s a fool, you needn’t be another.MAGGIE.He’s not a fool, and I wish Charley could go, too.LILY.Maggie, how can you?MAGGIE.[crossing to fireplace.] Why should a young man be bound down to one trade all his life? I wish I were a man—I’d—MRS. M.Well, you’re not, so it doesn’t matter.CHARLEY.Of course it must make a difference my being married.MASSEY.Remember your wife’s here and don’t talk as if you were sorry about it.CHARLEY.[turning on them fiercely.] For heaven’s sake, can’t you listen fair? My wife needn’t go to her father for protection from me? I’m not a scoundrel just because I’ve got an idea, am I?A pause—nobody answers.But I’ll tell you what, marriage shouldn’t tie a man up as if he was a slave. I don’t want to desert Lily—she’s my wife and I’m proud of it—but because I married, am I never to strike out in anything? People like us are just cowards. We seize on the first soft job—and there we stick, like whipped dogs. We’re afraid to ask for anything, afraid to ask for a rise even—we wait till it comes. And when the boss says he won’t give you one—do we up and say, “Then I’ll go somewhere where I can get more.” Not a bit of it! What’s the good of sticking on here all our lives? Why shouldn’t somebody risk something sometimes? We’re all so jolly frightened—we’ve got no spunk—that’s where the others get the hold over us—we slog on day after day and when they cut our wages down we take it as meek as Moses. We’re not men, we’re machines. Next week I’ve got my choice—either to take less money to keep my job or to chuck it and try something else. You say—everybody says—keep the job. I expect I shall—I’m a coward like all of you—but what I want to know is, why can’t a man have a fit of restlessness and all that, without being thought a villain?FOSTER.But after all, we undertake responsibilities when we marry, Mr. Wilson. We can’t overlook them.CHARLEY.I don’t want to. But I don’t think we ought to talk as if when a man gets married he must always bring in just the same money.FOSTER.If you have the misfortune to have your salary reduced, nobody would blame you.CHARLEY.I don’t know. I felt a bit of a beast when I had to tell Lil about that.MAGGIE.[suddenly.] If you went away, Lily could come and live with us.MRS. M.[scandalised.] How could she? Everybody would think she was divorced or something.FOSTER.Live withus,dear?MAGGIE.[impatiently.] No, here, I meant.CHARLEY.I’ve got a little cash put by that she could live on.Don’tcry, Lil, for heaven’s sake! Can’t any of you see my point—or won’t you?MASSEY.I suppose you’re a Socialist.CHARLEY.Doesn’t anybody but a Socialist ever have an idea?MASSEY.They’re mostly mad, if that’s what you mean. And they’re always talking about the wickedness of the boss and the sweetness of the working man.CHARLEY.I never said anything about either, and I’m not a Socialist.PERCY.You’ll be better when Tennant’s gone.CHARLEY.[viciously.] Just you wait till you’re two years older, my boy.FOSTER.You see it isn’t as if you had any prospects in the Colonies. Has Mr. Tennant?CHARLEY.He’s got an introduction to a firm.MASSEY.What’s the good of that?LILY.[tearfully.] Perhaps I could go with Charlie. I’m quite willing to—rough it a little.MAGGIE.You’d help him more by staying here.MRS. M.He doesn’t want her. He said so.LILY.[still tearfully.] If Charley really means it—I think—I—MRS. M.My dear, don’t think anything about it. It’s worrying you and making you ill—you want nursing, not frightening. [This with a glare of indignation atCHARLEY.]LILY.I’m all right.CHARLEY.[suddenly dropping his defiance.] Oh, let’s go home, Lil. You’re tired.MRS. M.Have you just noticed that?MAGGIE.Mother!MRS. M.She’s my child, and if her husband won’t think of her, I must.LILY.Mother, dear, Charley means all right. I’m sure he does. Yes, dear—I’m quite ready to go.LILYandMRS. MASSEYgo out.[Transcriber’s note: stage direction missing from source.]FOSTER.[with the air of pouring oil on troubled waters.] Well, at any rate, it needn’t be settled tonight. Perhaps after a night’s rest—MAGGIE.[vehemently.] I like impulse.MASSEY.I expect you do. You don’t know what’s good for you.MAGGIE.Well, at any rate, Daddy, you can’t say I have much. There’s not much chance at Jones & Freeman’s.PERCY.So you’ve caught it, too, Mag.SYBIL.Don’t tease.EnterLILY,dressed for going out, alsoMRS. MASSEY.LILYgoes round, kissing and shaking hands, with a watery smile and a forced tearful cheerfulness.CHARLEY.[without going all round and calling from the door.] Good night, all!ExeuntLILYandCHARLEY.MRS. M.Well, I must say—PERCY.Oh, let’s drop it, Mother. Play something, Maggie.MAGGIE.I don’t want to.MRS. M.Walter would like to hear something, wouldn’t you, Walter?FOSTER.If Maggie feels like it.MAGGIE.She doesn’t feel like it.MASSEY.Be as pleasant as you can, my girl—Charley’s enough for one evening.MAGGIEgoes to the piano and sitting down plays noisily with both pedals on, the chorus, “Off to Philadelphia.”MRS. M.Maggie, it’s Sunday!MAGGIE.I forgot!MRS. M.You shouldn’t forget such things—Sybil, my dear—SYBIL.I don’t play.MASSEY.Rubbish! Come on!SYBILgoes to the piano andPERCYfollows her.PERCY.[very near toSYBILand helping to find the music.] Charley is a rotter! What d’ye think he was telling me the other day?SYBIL.I don’t know.PERCY.Told me to be sure I’d got the right girl.SYBIL.Brute!PERCY.What do you think I said? Darling!Kisses her behind music.MASSEY.[looking round.] Take a bigger sheet.SYBILsits at piano quickly and plays the chorus to “Count your many Blessings.”To which they all sing—Count your blessings, count them one by one,Count your blessings, see what God has done.Count your blessings, count them one by one,And it will surprise you what the Lord has done.CURTAIN
SCENE: The sitting-room at “Sunnybank,” Hammersmith. There is no centre table, but there are various small ones against the wall and in the window. There is a piano, a tall palm in the window, and one or two wicker chairs that creak. The rest of the furniture is upholstered in saddlebags with antimacassars over the sofa head and armchairs. Gramophone in the corner. Big mirror over mantelpiece. Gilt clock in glass case and lustres.
MRS. MASSEYis sleeping in one armchair.MR. MASSEYis asleep on sofa, pulled across centre.MAGGIEsits reading at small table.MAGGIEsoftly rises and goes to fire. She pokes it and a piece of coal falls out.MRS. M.turns her head.
MAGGIE.I’m so sorry, Mother, I tried to poke it gently.
MRS. M.I was hardly asleep, my dear.
MAGGIE.Mother!—you’ve been sleeping for half an hour!
MRS. M.It didn’t seem like it, dear. Why, your father’s asleep.
MAGGIE.Isn’t that extraordinary!
MRS. M.[admiringly.] How soundly he sleeps! What’s the time?
MAGGIE.Four o’clock.
MRS. M.I should have thought they’d have been here now.
MAGGIE.Not Percy and Sybil, I hope. You don’t expectthem,until the last minute, do you?
MRS. M.No, dear—of course not.
MAGGIE.I wouldn’t walk the streets this afternoon for any man.
MRS. M.I don’t suppose they find it cold.
MAGGIE.Oh, I daresay they’re sitting in the Park.
MRS. M.I hope they won’t be late for tea. I shall want mine soon.
MAGGIE.I’ll put on the kettle now and when Lil and Charley come, we will have tea and not wait for the others. We’ll have it cosily in here. [She goes out, returning with kettle, which she puts on fire. Sits close toMRS. MASSEY.]
MAGGIE.Mother!
MRS. M.Yes.
MAGGIE.Mother, did you love father when you married him—very much, I mean, very, very much!
MRS. M.[much astonished.] What a question! Of course.
MAGGIE.More than any other man you’d ever seen?
MRS. M.Of course!
MAGGIE.More than everything and everybody?
MRS. M.Of course!
MAGGIE.Well, there’s something wrong with me, then—or else with Walter. I don’t feel a bit like that. There’s no “of course” with me. I wouldn’t go and sit in the Park with him this afternoon for anything.
MRS. M.I suppose you’ve quarrelled?
MAGGIE.No, we haven’t. I wish we had.
MRS. M.Maggie! Don’t talk like that.
MAGGIE.But I do. He wants me to marry him next month.
MRS. M.And a very good thing too.
MAGGIE.He says he’s found a house, and wants me to go and look at it.Idon’t want to see it.
MRS. M.What’s come over you lately? You used to be satisfied. Walter is very nice and attentive—in fact, quite devoted.
MAGGIE.Yes, I know. Just like he was to his first wife, I expect.
MRS. M.You’ve such an absurd prejudice against widowers, Maggie. You’re jealous.
MAGGIE.I’m not. Not a bit. But I do wish he would do something, and not worry about getting married.
MRS. M.The poor man is doing something, I should think, running after you every spare minute, and house hunting.
MAGGIE.I would much rather he went to Australia—or somewhere.
MRS. M.That’s that absurd Tennant man again. You’re not in love withhim,I hope?
MAGGIE.[promptly.] Not a scrap! I find him rather dull.
MRS. M.Then what is it?
MAGGIE.I should like Walter to go out and seek his fortune instead of getting it in a coal merchant’s office.
MRS. M.He mightn’t come back.
MAGGIE.[thoughtfully.] Perhaps he wouldn’t.
Click of gate.
MRS. M.There’s the gate, Maggie.
MAGGIEgoes out R. She comes back in a moment, followed byLILY.LILYgoes to her mother and kisses her. She looks at her father.
LILY.Father asleep?
MAGGIE.What a question. Shall I take your hat and coat?
LILYtakes them off and hands them toMAGGIE.
You’re shivering! Sit close to the fire. Aren’t you well?
LILY.[in a pathetic voice.] Yes, I’m well, thank you.
MRS. M.Are you alone?
LILY.Charley is coming on. He’s gone to the station with Mr. Tennant.
MRS. M.To see him off?
LILY.No—Mr. Tennant goes to-morrow.
MAGGIEgoes out with hat and coat. She brings back with her a tray, with cloth, etc., and prepares for tea on a small table.
MRS. M.Have you got another lodger?
LILY.No. We—we’ve got to have two.
MRS. M.Two? What for?
MAGGIEstops to listen.
LILY.They’ve reduced Charley’s salary.
MRS. M.[sitting up energetically.] Reduced it? What for?
LILY.I don’t know—I . . . oh, I’m so miserable. [She suddenly covers her face with her hands and sobs.]
MAGGIE.[stooping over her.] Lil, dear, you’re not crying overthat,are you?
LILY.[sobbing.] Oh, no, no! It doesn’t matter. We can make room for two lodgers quite well. I don’t mind the work.
MAGGIE.Then what is it?
MRS. M.I suppose you and Charley have quarrelled?
MAGGIE.Tell us, dear.
LILY.Charley—wants—to go away—and leave me.
MRS. M.What? What’s this?
LILY.[looking apprehensively round at the sleeping figure.] Hush! don’t wake father!
MAGGIE.He won’t wake till the tea-cups rattle. Charley wants to leaveYOU!
MRS. M.Iknewthey’d quarrelled.
LILY.We haven’t—not exactly—but he’s been sofunnyever since Mr. Tennant said he was going to Australia. He wants to go too.
MRS. M.What next? Charley ought to be ashamed of himself. Go to Australia indeed! He forgets he is married.
LILY.I don’t want him to stay just because he’s married, if he wants to leave me.
MAGGIE.You are quitewrong,I’m sure, Lil. He doesn’t want to leave you at all. He wants to leave his work.
MRS. M.Perhaps he does. So do other people very often. Suppose we all stopped work when we didn’t like it? A pretty muddle the world would be in. Charley is forgetting there is such a thing as duty.
LILY.He’s very unhappy—and I—I can’t make him happy.
MRS. M.So he ought to be miserable with such ideas in his head. I never heard of such a thing! The sooner Mr. Tennant goes the better. He’s been putting Charley up to this, I suppose?
MAGGIE.You don’t know Mr. Tennant, mother. He’s not that sort.
MRS. M.Then what made Charley think of it at all?
MAGGIE.It’s just a feeling you get sometimes, mother. You can’t help it. Office work is awf’lly monotonous.
MRS. M.Of course it is. So is all work. Do you expect work to be pleasant? Does anybody ever like work? The idea is absurd. Anyone would think work was to be pleasant. You don’t come into the world to have pleasure. We’ve got to do our duty, and the more cheerfully we can do it, the better for ourselves and everybody else.
LILY.I—I didn’t mean to tell you.
MRS. M.He ought to be talked to.
LILY.Don’t say anything, please—not yet. Perhaps after tea we can all talk about it, and it may do him good.
MAGGIEgoes out.LILYstarts to arrange the tea-cups.MR. MASSEYrouses. Re-enterMAGGIEwith tea-pot.
MASSEY.Tea?
MAGGIE.Yes, Daddy.
MASSEY.In here? There’s no room.
MAGGIE.It’s cosey. I’ll bring yours to the sofa.
MASSEY.Where am I to put it?—on the floor?
MAGGIE.I’ll bring up a table for you if you must have one. You wouldn’t do for a Society gentleman. Can’t you balance a cup on your knee?
MASSEY.I don’t mean to try. Hope you haven’t got out those finnicky little cups. I want my own.
MAGGIE.I’ve got your own—here. [She holds up a very big breakfast cup, plain white with gilt band.]
MASSEY.I didn’t hear you come in, Lil. Where’s Charley?
LILY.Coming on.
MASSEY.What’ve you done with Foster, Mag?
MAGGIE.He’s not coming.
MAGGIEtakes tea round.
MASSEY.Gone away for the week end?
MAGGIE.[taking a cup for herself and sitting down besideLILY.] Oh, no! He’s not coming. That’s all. Lily and I are grass widows. It’s a very nice feeling.
MASSEY.It’s all right about you, but Lil looks a bit off. You’ve got a cold. Your eyes are red.
LILY.Yes, father.
MRS. M.You’ve dropped some bread and butter on the carpet, Alfred.
MASSEY.[irritably.] Of course I have! I knew I should.
MAGGIE.[running to pick it up.] Percy hasn’t come back with Sybil yet, Dad. We expect they’re sitting in the Park.
MASSEY.[his attention taken from his grievance.] What, in this weather?
MAGGIE.The seats will be dry and they sit close together, you know. I’ve often seen them do it.
MASSEY.[chuckling.] You have, have you? And what about yourself? What about yourself? You! Lord! what a nest of turtle doves it is—nothing but billing and cooing!
MAGGIE.Especially Percy.
MASSEY.P’raps so. He’s young at it. Well, he’ll be the next, I suppose. And you, too, Mag?
MAGGIE.I’m in no hurry.
MRS. M.[a little impatiently toMAGGIE.] Don’t talk like that, my dear.
MASSEY.Of course she says she isn’t. She’s a modest young woman—I never heardyousay you were in a hurry, my dear.
MRS. M.Of course I shouldn’t—to you.
MASSEY.Ha, ha! You put on the shy business then. Lord! these women. [MAGGIEmoves towards table.] Come, now, Mag, confess! You think of it sometimes.
MAGGIE.I think of it a lot.
MASSEY.There you are! There you are! What did I say?
MAGGIE.And what do you think I think about it?
MASSEY.How should I know. Wedding, I suppose. I bet you never think of anything else after the wedding day.
MAGGIE.[slowly.] I think of the wedding dress, and the bridesmaids, and the pages. Shall I have pages, Mum?
MRS. M.Maggie!
MAGGIE.I suppose I shan’t. I think of the houseI’m going to have, Daddy—and the furniture, and I’m going to have a cat and a dog—
MASSEY.[slyly.] Nothing else, of course. Just a cat and a dog. Ha, ha!
MRS. M.Alfred, don’t suggest. It isn’t nice.
MASSEY.A cat and dog—ha, ha, ha!
MAGGIE.Don’t laugh, Daddy. I’m telling you the solemn truth—I think most of all that I shall never, never, never have to go into a shop again.
MASSEY.I wish old Foster could hear you.
MAGGIE.Why?
MASSEY.He’d say—“And where do I come in?”
MAGGIE.Well, of course he’ll be there. I wish—
MRS. M.Maggie, my dear—I should like a little more tea! Have you got some more hot water?
MAGGIE.I’ll get some. [Goes out.]
MASSEY.It’s all very well for her to chaff, but she ain’t quite natural about this affair of hers. She ought to be more pleased—excited like.
MRS. M.I think they’ve had a little quarrel. People often do. She’s a little bit down about it. We’ve had a talk about it.
MASSEY.Well, she can’t have any quarrel about him himself.He’sall right, and got a jolly soft job, too. He’ll make her a good husband. He’s insured for £500.
MRS. M.Is he? That’s very nice. If anything happened to him she’d be all right.
MASSEY.He’s a thoughtful sort of chap. Of course he’s not exactly young, but he’s steady.
MRS. M.The poor child is jealous of his first wife.
MASSEY.You don’t say so? Jealous, is she? That’s all right—that’s a healthy feeling. I’m glad she’s jealous, but she’ll get over it once she’s married. Jealous! Lord! Fancy, Mag too—I wouldn’t have thought it. He’ll be head clerk, one of these days—he can stay at Whitakers all his life. He told me.
LILY.Do you think he’ll ever get tired of it?
MRS. M.What an idea!
MASSEY.[roaring.] Tired! Tired of what? A good job? Why ever should he be? He couldn’t have anything better—Ten to half-past five every day of his life, except Saturdays, and then it’sone—and three weeks’ holiday. Think of that?
LILY.But, I—
EnterMAGGIEwith hot water. The door-bell is heard.
MRS. M.Let them in, Lily, my dear—it’s Percy and Syb.
LILYgoes out R.
Re-enterLILYa moment after, followed byPERCYandSYBIL.
SYBILkissesMRS. MASSEYandMAGGIE.
SYBIL.Aren’t we dreadfully late, Mrs. Massey? I’msosorry!
PERCY.Awfully sorry, but my watch is—
MAGGIE.Don’t blame the poor thing—it’s all right.
MASSEY.The watch, was it? Come here, my girl!
SYBILgoes to him with giggling shyness. He takes her face between his hands.
Wasit the watch? Not a bit of it! It was this—[He pats her cheek] these roses. Lucky young dog! Percy! [He kisses her.]
MAGGIE.Rather cold in the Park, isn’t it?
PERCY.Not very.
MAGGIE.There’s a northeast wind. Still, you can find a sheltered seat.
PERCY.Just beyond the glass house thing.
MAGGIE.What did I tell you? [Looking triumphantly round.]
SYBIL.[covering her cheeks.] What a tease you are, Maggie!
MASSEY.Don’t listen to her!
PERCY.You’re only giving yourself away, Mag. What do you know about sheltered seats and glass houses?
MAGGIE.It wasn’t exactly guess work. [Click of gate.]
MRS. M.There’s Walter.
MAGGIE.What?
MASSEY.Isn’t she surprised? Now isn’t she surprised? Fancy! Walter!
MAGGIE.He said he wasn’t coming. [She looks out of the window.] Charley is with him.
LILY.Will you open the door, Maggie?
MAGGIE.[almost at the same moment.] Go to the door, Percy.
PERCY.Well, you’re two dutifully loving young women, I must say.
MAGGIE.You forget—we’re used to it. [PERCYgoes out.] Come, Sybil, and take off your things.
ExeuntSYBILandMAGGIE.
EnterWALTER FOSTER,a man of about35,prosperous looking, rather stout of build, and fair.CHARLEYalso enters, andPERCY.
FOSTER.[looking round forMAGGIE.] Good afternoon. [Shakes hands withMRS. M.andMASSEY.]
MRS. M.She’s gone up with Sybil, Walter.
FOSTER.Oh! I was afraid she was out, perhaps.
MASSEY.Well, Charles, you’re not looking spry.
CHARLEY.I’m a bit seedy—nothing much.
MASSEY.And when’s that madman lodger of yours going, eh?
CHARLEY.To-morrow.
MASSEY.Of all the fools he’s the biggest I know.
The door opens, andSYBILandMAGGIEcome back.
MAGGIE.I was just telling Sybil, Percy, that tea is laid in the sitting-room. We didn’t know when you’d be in.
She crosses up toFOSTERand lifts her face to be kissed.
SYBIL.Isn’t she dreadful?
MASSEY.Well, you won’t be alone, don’t you worry. Charley here wants some tea, and Lil will have to see he gets it, won’t you, Lil?
LILY.Yes, Dad.
MAGGIE.[toFOSTER.] Have you had tea?
FOSTER.Yes, thanks.
Exeunt all, exceptMASSEY,MAGGIEandFOSTER.
MASSEY.[finally he looks at theTWO,then at the clock; poking the fire, then humming a little.] Have you seen the “Argus,” Mag?
MAGGIE.In the kitchen. I’ll get it. [Makes a move to the door.]
MASSEY.No, no, I’m going out.
Goes.
MAGGIE.Father calls that tact.
FOSTER.[coming over to her.] What?
MAGGIE.Didn’t you notice? He doesn’t want the “Argus,” really.
FOSTER.[just understanding.] You mean he’s left us together?
MAGGIE.Yes.
FOSTER.Awfully kind of him! I say, Maggie, you don’t mind my coming, do you? I really had to. We—hadn’t made arrangements about Tuesday.
MAGGIElaughing a little sadly.
MAGGIE.And you couldn’t write them? You are very good to me, Walter.
FOSTER.Don’t talk like that.
A pause.
Maggie, I—you haven’t kissed me yet.
MAGGIE.I did—when you came in.
FOSTER.No—I kissedyou.
MAGGIE.I’m sorry—I—I don’t care for kissing in front of people.
FOSTER.[getting bolder.] There’s no one here now.
MAGGIErises, turns, and looking at him very straight, then lifts her face—pause—and going to him, kisses him on the lips. He keeps her close to him till she gently moves herself away.
I’ve got something here—you said the other day you wanted—you would like one of those Dutch brooches.
He puts his hand in his coat pocket and brings out a little parcel.
Here it is!
MAGGIE.[unfastens it.] Itisgood of you! You are so thoughtful!
She looks at him.
I suppose— [She kisses him again.]
Delighted, he keeps hold of her hand. She looks at him and then at her hand imprisoned in his, and then away at the fire.
FOSTER.What’s the matter, dear?
MAGGIE.[impatiently drawing her hand away.] It’s still the mood. I can’t help it. I don’t feel like love-making.
FOSTER.All right, dear—I won’t bother you.
MAGGIE.Perhaps if you did bother—no, never mind. You know I asked you not to come to-day.
FOSTER.Yes.
MAGGIE.Well, I had no reason, except that I didn’t feel like it. But I ought to feel like you always, didn’t I?
FOSTER.You’re different from me. I always feel like you.
MAGGIE.Walter, I don’t want to settle down. I want to go and—and do things.
FOSTER.What things, dear?
MAGGIE.Oh, I don’t know. [A pause.] Did you ever go abroad?
FOSTER.Yes, to Paris, once at Easter.
MAGGIE.Oh! just for a holiday. Wouldn’t you just love to go out and try your luck? Have a change?—Do something with your hands? Aren’t you ever tired of what you are doing?
FOSTER.I can’t say I am, really. Why should I? The work is not too hard. But you like change. I have a good salary, you know, dear. When we are married you can go about a lot, you’ll be quite free.
MAGGIE.No, I shan’t.
FOSTER.But you can have a servant and all that, you know.
MAGGIE.Oh, yes—yes—I understand.
FOSTER.If I went abroad—suppose it, for instance—I shouldn’t have you, should I?
MAGGIE.No, and a good thing for you. You deserve something better. You know—youknow,Walter, that I don’t love you half or a quarter as you love me.
FOSTER.Yes, I know that. But you don’t love anybody else.
MAGGIE.No. Have you ever thought that I’m really marrying you to get out of the shop?
FOSTER.Of course not. Of course you are glad to leave the shop because you don’t like it. You are so tied.
MAGGIE.I should love to be absolutely independent, quite—altogether free for a whole year. Oh!
FOSTER.[a little hurt.] You will be free when you are married to me, Maggie. You can do anything you like.
MAGGIE.[looking at him despairingly for a moment, then suddenly going up to him.] You are a dear!—you are, really! Marry me quick, Walter!
He takes her in his arms delightedly.
Quick—or—or—
FOSTER.Or what? [Very tenderly.]
MAGGIE.Or I shall run away.
FOSTER.And where would you run to?
MAGGIE.Perhaps if I’d known where to run to—I should have gone before.
FOSTER.Dearest, don’t talk like that!
MAGGIE.[turning away a little.] But I don’t! I’m safe!
MASSEYis heard outside the door, coughing and making a noise. Enters.
I’m afraid you’ve caught a cold in the kitchen, Daddy. I thought you went for the “Argus”?
MASSEY.So I did. [He looks down at it.]
MAGGIE.And you’ve brought the “Family Herald.” [She takes it from him.]
EnterMRS. MASSEY,CHARLEY,LILY,PERCYandSYBIL.
MRS. M.Play something, Lily.
LILYgoes to piano and picks out some music.SYBILandPERCYoccupy one big chair between them.CHARLEYstands idly at window, turning over an album.
PERCY.Going to church, mother?
MRS. M.No, dear, it’s a very nasty night. Such a cold wind.
PERCY.Last Sunday it was the rain—and the week before it was foggy, and the week before—
SYBIL.Don’t be such a very rude boy!
She puts her hand over his mouth and he takes it and holds it.
MRS. M.[complacently.] You’re a bad boy to make fun of your old mother. I went to church this morning.
PERCY.You’re getting a oncer, mother.
MRS. M.Well, I should only go to sleep if I went.
PERCY.Think of the example you set if you put in an appearance.
MRS. M.Yes, dear; I have thought of that, but it wouldn’t do for them to see me asleep.
FOSTER.[who always has the effect of trying to smooth things over.] I’m sure it is better for you to rest, Mrs. Massey, than walk such a distance twice a day!
MRS. M.Yes, it is rather a long way. It’s quite a quarter of an hour’s walk, and I don’t care to ride on Sundays.
LILYplays, choosing the mournful hymn, “Abide with me.”CHARLEYfidgets, goes to the piano and then back again to the window.
MASSEY.Can’t you find a seat, Charles? You look uncomfortable.
CHARLEY.Plenty, thanks. Sybil only has half a one.
SYBIL.Oh, Mr. Wilson. [She fidgets away fromPERCY,who pulls her back again.]
LILYhas played the tune through. She stops.
MRS. M.That’s such a nice tune, don’t you think, Walter?
FOSTER.Very!—rather plaintive, but soothing.
LILYstarts another—this time “Sun of my Soul.”
CHARLEY.For heaven’s sake, Lil, play something cheerful.
LILYstops, turns undecidedly on the stool, looks round imploringly atCHARLEY,turns a few pages and then rises and goes out of the room hurriedly.
SYBIL.She’s crying!
MASSEY.What?
MRS. M.You’ve hurt her, Charley, speaking like that. There was nothing to get cross about. She came this afternoon crying.
CHARLEY.I’ve done nothing! I—
ExitMRS. MASSEYin much indignation.
MASSEY.Had a tiff?
CHARLEY.A tiff—we don’t tiff.
MASSEY.Well, then, don’t shout at her like that. [ToSYBIL.] Here—are you sure she was crying?
SYBIL.Yes, quite.
MASSEY.That’s queer. She didn’t use to.
CHARLEY.She’s been worrying, I expect. Women worry so quick.
MASSEY.What’s she got to worry about? A bit hysterical, perhaps.
Re-enterMRS. MASSEY.
MASSEY.Is she better?
MRS. M.She’s got a headache, she says. But it isn’t that; I know what’s the matter. When she came to-day she could hardly speak—
CHARLEY.[interrupting.] Is she worrying over me?
MASSEY.What’s she got to worry over you about?
CHARLEY.I happened to say—I got the hump, I think. . . . I feel a bit restless. . . .
MRS. M.[hotly.] You know what it is well enough. You want to go away with that Tennant man and leave your wife—
MASSEY.[shouting.] What!
SYBILlooks shocked,PERCYastonished, whileFOSTERtries to pretend he didn’t hear.
MRS. M.The poor child’s breaking her heart because she says he wants to leave her.
CHARLEY.I never said anything of the kind—I never thought of such a thing, I—
MRS. M.Doyou want to go away with that man?
MASSEY.I should think you’re mad, both of you, to talk about it. Go with who? What for? What’re you talking about?
MRS. M.Sybil told me distinctly this afternoon that Charley wanted to go to Australia. She nearly cried her eyes out. Of course that means he wants to leave her. What else could it mean? She said he’d been funny and she was miserable. I said Charley ought to be ashamed of himself to want to go away like that, and so I think so.
MASSEY.[sitting up very straight and looking angry.] What’s all this, Charley? What . . .
FOSTERon tip toe slowly goes to door.
CHARLEY.Don’t go, Foster. Let’s have all the family in. You’re going to be part of it some day.
FOSTER.[sitting down again.] I’m quite ready to go.
CHARLEY.No, don’t. Let’s have it out. You may as well know, all of you.
MRS. M.[with a resignation of despair.] Then you do want—to go and leave her? It’s disgraceful!
CHARLEY.[Angrily.] What stuff you all talk! I—
MRS. M.Do you or do you not want to go?
CHARLEY.Yes, I do!
General consternation.
MRS. M.There! I said so.
EnterMAGGIE.
How’s the poor dear?
MAGGIE.She says her head is better and she will come down in a minute. What’s the matter?
MRS. M.Charley wants to go to Australia and leave his wife. He’stoldus so.
CHARLEY.Well, suppose it was true, wouldn’t it be better than going without telling you? But it isn’t true.
MASSEY.Do you want to take Lil with you?
CHARLEY.How could I?
EnterLILY—all mutter words of encouragement. General movement towards her. Everybody offers chairs in sympathy. She sits by her father.
CHARLEY.Look here now, just listen! It’s quitetrue I want to go. I want to do as Tennant’s done, chuck everything and try my luck in the Colonies. As soon as I had a fair start Lil would come out.
MASSEY.[interrupting.] Yes, and suppose you failed? You should have thought of that before you married. You can’t run off when you like when you’ve a wife.
CHARLEY.[excitedly.] But why not?
MRS. M.[interrupting.] Why not?—just hear him.
CHARLEY.It’s that I’m just sick of the office and the grind every week and no change!—nothing new, nothing happening. Why, I haven’t seen anything of the world. I just settled down to it—why?—just because other chaps do, because it’s the right thing. I only live for Saturday—
PERCY.So do I!—so does everybody!
CHARLEY.But they shouldn’t—
PERCY.You don’t mean to suggest, I hope, that we ought tolikeour work, do you?
MASSEY.Do you suppose I like plumbing? Do you think I ever did? No, but I stuck to it, and now look at me, got a nice little bit in the bank and bought my own house. [looks proudly round.] Of course, I hated it, just as you do.
MAGGIE.Then why didn’t you try something else, Daddy?
MASSEY.I like that! What could I do? I was taught plumbing. We don’t have choice. Your grandfather put me to it, and of course I stuck to it.
MAGGIE.But why didn’t you ask for a choice?
MASSEY.Me! Why should I do such a thing? Father was a plumber, and if it was good enough for him, it was good enough for me. Suppose I had thrown it up and gone to Canada for a lark? Anicething for my family. [ToMAGGIE.] You wouldn’t have had the education you’ve had, my girl. We’ve got to livesomehow, and if you get a good job stick to it, say I—none of your highty flighty notions. Live ’em down!
FOSTER.[gently.] We all have moments of discontent, I fancy, but we get over them.
MAGGIE.[turns toFOSTER.] Did you ever have any?
FOSTER.A long time ago, but I’m quite safe now, dear.
MAGGIEshrugs her shoulders and turns half away impatiently.
CHARLEY.I never said you couldn’t live them down. I never said, did I, that I was going away? I only said I should like to. Did I ever say more, Lil?
LILY.[meekly.] No, dear.
MRS. M.But you shouldn’t want to. It’s ridiculous.
CHARLEY.It wasn’t till Tennant started about his going—
MRS. M.I knew it was that man Tennant—
CHARLEY.. . . that I thought of it. But if he threw up his job, I thought, why shouldn’t I?
MASSEY.Because he’s a fool, you needn’t be another.
MAGGIE.He’s not a fool, and I wish Charley could go, too.
LILY.Maggie, how can you?
MAGGIE.[crossing to fireplace.] Why should a young man be bound down to one trade all his life? I wish I were a man—I’d—
MRS. M.Well, you’re not, so it doesn’t matter.
CHARLEY.Of course it must make a difference my being married.
MASSEY.Remember your wife’s here and don’t talk as if you were sorry about it.
CHARLEY.[turning on them fiercely.] For heaven’s sake, can’t you listen fair? My wife needn’t go to her father for protection from me? I’m not a scoundrel just because I’ve got an idea, am I?
A pause—nobody answers.
But I’ll tell you what, marriage shouldn’t tie a man up as if he was a slave. I don’t want to desert Lily—she’s my wife and I’m proud of it—but because I married, am I never to strike out in anything? People like us are just cowards. We seize on the first soft job—and there we stick, like whipped dogs. We’re afraid to ask for anything, afraid to ask for a rise even—we wait till it comes. And when the boss says he won’t give you one—do we up and say, “Then I’ll go somewhere where I can get more.” Not a bit of it! What’s the good of sticking on here all our lives? Why shouldn’t somebody risk something sometimes? We’re all so jolly frightened—we’ve got no spunk—that’s where the others get the hold over us—we slog on day after day and when they cut our wages down we take it as meek as Moses. We’re not men, we’re machines. Next week I’ve got my choice—either to take less money to keep my job or to chuck it and try something else. You say—everybody says—keep the job. I expect I shall—I’m a coward like all of you—but what I want to know is, why can’t a man have a fit of restlessness and all that, without being thought a villain?
FOSTER.But after all, we undertake responsibilities when we marry, Mr. Wilson. We can’t overlook them.
CHARLEY.I don’t want to. But I don’t think we ought to talk as if when a man gets married he must always bring in just the same money.
FOSTER.If you have the misfortune to have your salary reduced, nobody would blame you.
CHARLEY.I don’t know. I felt a bit of a beast when I had to tell Lil about that.
MAGGIE.[suddenly.] If you went away, Lily could come and live with us.
MRS. M.[scandalised.] How could she? Everybody would think she was divorced or something.
FOSTER.Live withus,dear?
MAGGIE.[impatiently.] No, here, I meant.
CHARLEY.I’ve got a little cash put by that she could live on.Don’tcry, Lil, for heaven’s sake! Can’t any of you see my point—or won’t you?
MASSEY.I suppose you’re a Socialist.
CHARLEY.Doesn’t anybody but a Socialist ever have an idea?
MASSEY.They’re mostly mad, if that’s what you mean. And they’re always talking about the wickedness of the boss and the sweetness of the working man.
CHARLEY.I never said anything about either, and I’m not a Socialist.
PERCY.You’ll be better when Tennant’s gone.
CHARLEY.[viciously.] Just you wait till you’re two years older, my boy.
FOSTER.You see it isn’t as if you had any prospects in the Colonies. Has Mr. Tennant?
CHARLEY.He’s got an introduction to a firm.
MASSEY.What’s the good of that?
LILY.[tearfully.] Perhaps I could go with Charlie. I’m quite willing to—rough it a little.
MAGGIE.You’d help him more by staying here.
MRS. M.He doesn’t want her. He said so.
LILY.[still tearfully.] If Charley really means it—I think—I—
MRS. M.My dear, don’t think anything about it. It’s worrying you and making you ill—you want nursing, not frightening. [This with a glare of indignation atCHARLEY.]
LILY.I’m all right.
CHARLEY.[suddenly dropping his defiance.] Oh, let’s go home, Lil. You’re tired.
MRS. M.Have you just noticed that?
MAGGIE.Mother!
MRS. M.She’s my child, and if her husband won’t think of her, I must.
LILY.Mother, dear, Charley means all right. I’m sure he does. Yes, dear—I’m quite ready to go.
LILYandMRS. MASSEYgo out.[Transcriber’s note: stage direction missing from source.]
FOSTER.[with the air of pouring oil on troubled waters.] Well, at any rate, it needn’t be settled tonight. Perhaps after a night’s rest—
MAGGIE.[vehemently.] I like impulse.
MASSEY.I expect you do. You don’t know what’s good for you.
MAGGIE.Well, at any rate, Daddy, you can’t say I have much. There’s not much chance at Jones & Freeman’s.
PERCY.So you’ve caught it, too, Mag.
SYBIL.Don’t tease.
EnterLILY,dressed for going out, alsoMRS. MASSEY.LILYgoes round, kissing and shaking hands, with a watery smile and a forced tearful cheerfulness.
CHARLEY.[without going all round and calling from the door.] Good night, all!
ExeuntLILYandCHARLEY.
MRS. M.Well, I must say—
PERCY.Oh, let’s drop it, Mother. Play something, Maggie.
MAGGIE.I don’t want to.
MRS. M.Walter would like to hear something, wouldn’t you, Walter?
FOSTER.If Maggie feels like it.
MAGGIE.She doesn’t feel like it.
MASSEY.Be as pleasant as you can, my girl—Charley’s enough for one evening.
MAGGIEgoes to the piano and sitting down plays noisily with both pedals on, the chorus, “Off to Philadelphia.”
MRS. M.Maggie, it’s Sunday!
MAGGIE.I forgot!
MRS. M.You shouldn’t forget such things—Sybil, my dear—
SYBIL.I don’t play.
MASSEY.Rubbish! Come on!
SYBILgoes to the piano andPERCYfollows her.
PERCY.[very near toSYBILand helping to find the music.] Charley is a rotter! What d’ye think he was telling me the other day?
SYBIL.I don’t know.
PERCY.Told me to be sure I’d got the right girl.
SYBIL.Brute!
PERCY.What do you think I said? Darling!
Kisses her behind music.
MASSEY.[looking round.] Take a bigger sheet.
SYBILsits at piano quickly and plays the chorus to “Count your many Blessings.”
To which they all sing—
Count your blessings, count them one by one,
Count your blessings, see what God has done.
Count your blessings, count them one by one,
And it will surprise you what the Lord has done.
CURTAIN