ACT II.

ACT II.Scene:same as in Act I.EnterMr. SmaileyandServant.Mr. S.(very gently). Will you have the goodness to tell Mrs. Van Brugh that Mr. Smailey is here to see her, by appointment?Serv.Mr. Smailey, sir? Yes, sir. (Going.)EnterMr. Fitz Partington.Fitz.(stoppingServant).Andhis solicitor.Mr. S.(with mild sternness). You have followed me again, sir?Fitz.Followed you again, sir; according to contract.Mr. S.There is no contract between us that entitles you to dog my footsteps as though you were hunting down a thief.Fitz.Hunting down a thief? Oh, yes. To enable me to assist you in blighting the character of the best and loveliest woman that ever shed a light upon a private detective’s thorny path, I am to have the free run of your house and papers; I am to accompany you wherever you go, and you are to introduce me everywhere as your solicitor.Mr. S.Sir, you are not in the least like a solicitor. You are a ridiculously dressed person. You are like nothing in the world but what you are—aprivate detective. I desire to press hardly on no fellow-creature, but you are a spy! that base and utterably abject thing—a spy!Fitz.Mr. Smailey, when you complain that you find my society irksome, you have my profoundest sympathy; I find it so myself. When you revile my profession, my sentiments are entirely in accord, for I have the very poorest opinion of it. But when you imply that I don’t look the character I undertake to represent, whythen, sir, you touch the private detective on the most sensitive part of his moral anatomy. I’m not a blameless character, but if I undertook to personate the Archbishop of Canterbury I believe I should look the part, and my conversation would be found to be in keeping with the character.Mr. S.Pray, silence; oh, pray, pray, silence. You shock me inexpressibly. It is most painful to me to have to resort to your assistance. My son, my dear son, has engaged himself to marry Mrs. Van Brugh’s daughter. I have lately had reason to believe that there is something discreditable in Mrs. Van Brugh’s marriage relations, though I do not know its precise nature. You tell me that you have a certain clew to this flaw, though you decline to tell me what it is until your proofs are matured. Well, sir, the Smaileys are a very old and very famous family. Caius Smaileius came over with Julius Cæsar; his descendants have borne an untarnished scutcheon for eighteen hundred years.In its interest I am bound to employ you, and upon your own most exacting terms, though I can not think of your contemptible calling without a feeling of the most profound abhorrence.Fitz.Sir, I am heartily ashamed of it.Mr. S.You are a professional impostor; a hired lie.Fitz.It is too true. I not only lie myself, but I am the cause of lying in others.Mr. S.For the lies that have to be told in accounting for you I hold you entirely responsible. I wish that to be understood. I wash my hands of them altogether, and, when I think of the deep, deliberate, and utterly indefensible falsehoods that I have had to utter on your behalf, I tremble for your future—I tremble for your future.Fitz.Unselfish man.Mr. S.As for the preposterous terms you have dictated——Fitz.Terms! I have insured to myself the unbroken enjoyment of your desirable society for six weeks, and believe me, when I say that if I had been acquainted with the inexpressible charms of the most fascinating woman that ever shed a light upon the private detective’s thorny path, I wouldn’t have undertaken the job, no, not even for a lifetime of your society!EnterMrs. Van Brugh.Mrs. V. B.Good morning, Mr. Smailey. I amsorry to have kept you waiting. (Aside) That absurd little man with him again. (Aloud) Good morning, Mr.——Fitz.Fitz Partington.Mrs. V. B.Fitz Partington, of course.Fitz.(aside). She might remembermyname. I can’t conceive any circumstances under which I could forgethers!Mr. S.Mr. Fitz Partington is entirely in my confidence. I brought him, because I believed that his familiarity with legal forms might assist us in our interview. You can speak without reserve before Mr. Fitz Partington. (Aside toFitz.) A lie, sir! Another lie, from first to last!Mrs. V. B.I suppose the facts will come before Mr. Fitz Partington when they are decided on. The steps by which they are arrived at will only bore him. I’m sure Mr. Partington won’t be angry with me, when I ask him to amuse himself in the next room until preliminaries are arranged.Fitz.Mrs. Van Brugh, I have made it a part of my moral code to step without hesitation into any apartment you may think fit to indicate.[Exit.Mrs. V. B.Now, Mr. Smailey, about these settlements. I will tell you at once what I propose to do. My income is, as you know, a very large one—much larger than any one would suppose who judges from the quietness of my mode of life. I am an odd woman, and I spend my money in my own way. I have very many claims upon it, and,although I wish to deal handsomely with my darling Eve, I must not disappoint those who have counted upon me for some years past. To come to the point, I propose to settle my Buckinghamshire farm upon her, on the usual terms of a marriage settlement. I don’t know the technical expression—but on the usual terms.Mr. S.The Buckinghamshire farm, yes. Thank you. I forget whether that is the leasehold or the freehold farm, for you have two.Mrs. V. B.You mustn’t ask me. Your solicitor knows. It’s worth £500 a year, and that, I suppose, is the main point.Mr. S.Not altogether; the difference in value may be prodigious. Have you a copy of the will?Mrs. V. B.No. I never saw the will.Mr. S.Never saw the will? I think I have a copy of it at home—with your permission, I will go and fetch it, and the matter can be decided at once.Mrs. V. B.Do, by all means. I only know that my property is all my own, and that I can do what I like with it; and I assure you, Mr. Smailey, I avail myself of the privilege.Mr. S.You do indeed. And that reminds me, Mrs. Van Brugh, that I am anxious to speak to you on another topic—a topic of a singularly painful character. I will endeavor, Mrs. Van Brugh, to approach it as delicately as possible.Mrs. V. B.Indeed! (Alarmed.) You rouse mycuriosity, Mr. Smailey. Does it—does it refer in any way to myself?Mr. S.Directly to yourself.Mrs. V. B.(much alarmed). May I ask in what way?Mr. S.As I said before, it is a most difficult subject to approach, and I would willingly spare you. Give me a moment to think how I can best put it to you.Mrs. V. B.Pray have no hesitation in telling me what it is. (With half-disguised emotion.) Does it—does it refer in any way to my—to my past life, for instance? (With affected cheerfulness.)Mr. S.It does refer to incidents in your past life. To many incidents in general, and to one incident in particular.Mrs. V. B.For Heaven’s sake, sir, be explicit. Speak out, I implore you. (With suppressed agitation.)Mr. S.You seem strangely agitated, Mrs. Van Brugh.Mrs. V. B.No, no; I am ill and nervous to-day. Your manner is rather alarming. (With affected cheerfulness.) You know I’m a very bad hand at guessing riddles, Mr. Smailey. Come, what is it? I give it up. (He hesitates.) Why have you any hesitation in telling me?Mr. S.Because it involves a particularly delicate moral point. (She is much agitated.) God bless me, you seem very much alarmed.Mrs. V. B.(with determination). Mr. Smailey, once and for all, I insist upon knowing what it is.Mr. S.Well, then, to be quite plain with you, it is currently reported in the village that you have taken a miserable woman from the streets and established her in the character of a respectable workwoman within a hundred yards of this spot. (Mrs. Van Brugh, whose agitation and alarm have been intense, is greatly relieved.) Moreover, I have been informed that you have, for some years past, been in the habit of searching out women of bad character who profess penitence, with the view of enabling them to earn their living in the society of blameless Christians.Mrs. V. B.I have.Mr. S.I tell you at once that I am loath to believe this thing.Mrs. V. B.(with indignant surprise). Why are you loath to believe this thing?Mr. S.Why? (Rises.) Because its audacity, its want of principle, and, above all, its unspeakable indelicacy, shock me beyond the power of expression.Mrs. V. B.Mr. Smailey, is it possible that you are speaking deliberately? Think of any blameless woman whom you love and honor, and who is loved and honored of all. Think of the shivering outcast whose presence is contamination, whose touch is horror unspeakable, whose very existence is an unholy stain on God’s earth. Woman—loved,honored, courted by all. Woman—shunned, loathed, and unutterably despised, but still—Woman. I do not plead for those whose advantages of example and education render their fall ten thousand times more culpable. Let others speak for such as they. (With a broken voice.)—It may be that something is to be said, even for them. I plead for those who have had the world against them from the first—who with blunted weapons and untutored hands have fought society single-handed, and fallen in the unequal fight. God help them!Mr. S.Mrs. Van Brugh, I have no desire to press hardly on any fellow-creature, but society, the grand arbiter in these matters, has decided that a woman who has once forfeited her moral position shall never regain it.Mrs. V. B.Even though her repentance be sincere and beyond doubt?Mr. S.Even so.Mrs. V. B.Even though she fell unprotected, unadvised, perishing with want and chilled with despair?Mr. S.Even so. For such a woman there is no excuse—for such a woman there is no pardon.Mrs. V. B.You mean no pardon on earth?Mr. S.Of course I mean no pardon on earth. What can I have to do with pardon elsewhere?Mrs. V. B.Nothing. Mr. Smailey, when you have procured the will, I shall be ready to see you;but before you go let me tell you that I am inexpressibly shocked and pained at the terrible theory you have advanced. (He endeavors to speak.) Oh, understand me, I do not charge you with exceptional heartlessness. You represent the opinions of society, and society is fortunate in its mouthpiece. Heaven teaches that there is a pardon for every penitent. Earth teaches that there is one sin for which there is no pardon—when the sinner is a woman!(Ruthhas entered. She is quietly and decently dressed, and carries a parcel of needlework in her hand.)Mr. S.(aside). Mrs. Van Brugh, pray be quiet; we are observed.Mrs. V. B.By the subject of our conversation.[ExitMrs. Van Brugh.Ruth.I beg pardon—I thought the lady was alone. (Going.)Mr. S.Stop, woman. (She turns and advances.) Don’t—don’t approach me—we have nothing in common. Listen at a distance. Mrs. Van Brugh has thought proper to place you on a pedestal that levels you, socially, with respectable Christians. In so doing, I consider that she has insulted respectable Christians. She thinks proper to suffer you to entermypresence. In so doing I consider that she has insultedme. I desire you to understand that when a woman of your stamp enters the presence of a Christian gentleman, she——Ruth.(who has been looking at him in wonder during this speech). Smailey! That’s neveryou! (Mr. S.falls back in his chair.)Ruth.Ay, Smailey, it’s Ruth Tredgett.Mr. S.(very confused). I did not know whom I was speaking to.Ruth.But you knowedwhatyou was speakin’ to, Jonas Smailey. Go on. I’m kinder curous to hear whatyou’vegot to say about a woman o’ my stamp. I’m kinder curous to hear wot Jonas Smailey’s got to say about his own work.Mr. S.We meet in a strange way after so many years.Ruth.Yes; we do meet in a strange way. Seems to me it’s suthin’ of a topsy-turvy way. But it’s a topsy-turvy world, ain’t it?Mr. S.(recovering himself with bland dignity). I have no desire to press hardly on any fellow-creature——Ruth.(quietly). Come, that’s kind, anyhow.Mr. S.Perhaps, after all, you were not entirely to blame.Ruth.Well, p’raps not.Mr. S.Perhaps I myself was not altogether without reproach in the matter. But in my case allowance should, in common charity, be made for follies that arise from extreme youth and—and inexperience. I was barely forty then.Ruth.And I was just sixteen. Well, I forgive you, along o’ your youth, as I hope to be forgiven along o’ my childhood.Mr. S.(rises). The tone you adopt is in the worst possible taste. The misguided lady who has taken upon herself, most wickedly, to foist you upon society, has committed a fraud, which——Ruth.Stopthere, Smailey! You’re getting on dangerous ground. Best leave that lady alone. She’s a bit chipped off heaven—she’s good right through. She’s—she’s—I’m slow at findin’ words that mean goodness. My words run mostly the other way, wus luck. If I had to tell o’you, Smailey, they’d come handy and strong. I can’t find words that meanher!Mr. S.I have no wish to be hard on you, but itisa fraud, and——Ruth.Fraud? Fraud’s a bad word to come fromyou, Smailey. I’d ha’ thought you’d ha’ fought shy o’ that word, for the rest o’ your days.Mr. S.(taken aback). I don’t know what you refer to.Ruth.I’m referrin’ to Martha Vane of Melbourne. What, yer recklect Martha Vane, do yer?Mr. S.Martha Vane! Yes, I remember Vane. Pooh! There is nothing to connect me with that matter.Ruth.Nothing? I’ve writin’ of yours which is fourteen year, if it’s a day.Mr. S.And do you mean to say that you would be guilty of such inhumanity—such devilish inhumanity (I use the word “devilish” in its religious sense) as to bring up an act of youthful folly—guilt if you will—against me now that I have achieved wealth, reputation, and social position?Ruth.No, you’re safe, Smailey. Bring it up agin yer now? Why, you may have repented, who knows? You was a bad lot, sure enough, but that’s twenty years agone, and you may ha’ repented.Mr. S.I have; I’m an altered person—I—I—will make it well worth your while to give me up that writing you refer to. I will pay you very handsomely for it.Ruth.Pay! no; I ain’t on that lay. I’m square now. I’m a ’spectable woman. I only takes money wot I earns. It comes slow, but it comes comfortable.Mr. S.Your sentiments do you credit. I confess I did not look for such delicacy of feeling in you; it exalts one’s idea of human nature. I am thankful for any thing that exalts one’s idea of human nature. Thank you, Tredgett. Give me these papers.Ruth.No; I’m ’spectable, but I ain’t a fool. I’ll keep ’em, case I want ’em.Mr. S.As you please. Remember, Tredgett, I am a person of influence here, and a county magistrate——Ruth.What, d’you sit at quarter sessions?Mr. S.Certainly.Ruth.And sentence poor prigs?Mr. S.Yes. Why do you ask?Ruth.Nothing; go on—it’s all topsy-turvy!Mr. S.I shall be happy if I can serve you in any way. I shall always be glad to hear that you are doing well, and I feel certain that the admirable lady who has so kindly taken you in hand will have no reason to regret her charity. It is easy to fall, and hard to rise again—Heaven bless those who extend a helping hand. I am very glad indeed that we have met. I’ve no wish to press hardly on any fellow-creature.[Exit.Ruth.Jonas Smailey! Smailey here! Things come about queerly. I seed him last at t’other end o’ the world, and to meet him here! Who’s that? (Fitz Partingtonhas entered unobserved on tiptoe, and tapped her on the shoulder.)Fitz.Come here. (Taking out note-book.) Your name’s Ruth Tredgett?Ruth.(surprised). Ay.Fitz.What are you?Ruth.A ’spectable woman. Wot areyou?Fitz.A detective.Ruth.(falling back horrified). Wot’s it for?Fitz.Nothing.Youain’t wanted, but your address is.Ruth.I’m living at Barker’s in the village.Fitz.Present occupation?Ruth.Needlewoman.Fitz.Late occupation?Ruth.Tramp. There’s nothin’ agin me?Fitz.Nothing against you, every thing for you; even this half-crown.Ruth.I don’t like p’leece money. I never took none yet, I ain’t a goin’ to begin now. I wish yer good day. I don’t like p’leece money.[Exit.Fitz.I’m not a policeman, I’m a private detective; but we won’t split hairs. (Pockets coin.) I thought Smailey was my man, now I’m sure of it. Ha! ha! Now, Smailey has a game. The question is, what is it? He says it’s his scutcheon, but that is Walker, because his father was a wig-maker. However, it’s quite clear that, whatever his game may be, it is my duty to put that inestimable woman on her guard.EnterMrs. Van Brugh.Mrs. V. B.Has not Mr. Smailey returned?Fitz.No, ma’am, he has not. (He shows traces of emotion.)Mrs. V. B.Mr. Fitz Partington, is any thing the matter?Fitz.Ma’am, you have come upon me in a moment of professional conscientiousness. Avail yourself of it, for such moments are rare and fleeting. Beware of Smailey.Mrs. V. B.What in the world do you mean?Fitz.I mean that he is endeavoring to prove that—that you were not legally married to Captain Van Brugh.Mrs. V. B.(intensely agitated). Mr. Fitz Partington, you can not be aware of the full import of your words. What can be Mr. Smailey’s motive for making these preposterous inquiries?Fitz.That’s just what I want to get at. In a general way it’s sure to be something dirty. Perhaps he thinks that the property you inherit from Captain Van Brugh isn’t legally yours, and, therefore, can’t be settled by you on your daughter.Mrs. V. B.But I inherited very little indeed from Captain Van Brugh. The bulk of my property was left me by my godfather.Fitz.Then I’m wrong. But does Smailey know this?Mrs. V. B.Know it! Why, of course he knows it. He’s my godfather’s nephew, and next-of-kin.Fitz.What! His next-of-kin? Next-of-kin is a fruitful expression. I see a whole plantation of motives cropping out of “next-of-kin.” Have you a copy of the will?Mrs. V. B.No. But Mr. Smailey has—indeed he has gone to fetch it.Fitz.Can you tell me the terms of the legacy?Mrs. V. B.No, not precisely. I have never seen the will. My solicitor has told me its purport in general terms.Fitz.Are you referred to in that will by your married or maiden name?Mrs. V. B.Oh, by my maiden name.Fitz.You are sure of that?Mrs. V. B.Quite sure. At least, Ifeelquite sure. I can’t be absolutely certain, but—oh, yes; I am sure of it.Fitz.What was the date of the will?Mrs. V. B.1856.Fitz.What was the year of your marriage?Mrs. V. B.(after a pause). 1856.Fitz.My dear Mrs. Van Brugh, this is most important. The news of your marriage might or might not have reached the testator in Australia. If there is any flaw in your marriage, and if you are described in that will as Captain Van Brugh’s wife, every penny you possess will revert to Smailey. Now, Smailey is a scoundrel.Mrs. V. B.Mr. Fitz Partington, pray explain yourself.Fitz.In the full conviction that what I am going to say will be treated as confidential, Iwillexplain myself. I’m after Smailey. Smailey will soon be wanted.Mrs. V. B.This is scarcely an explanation.Fitz.Scarcely an explanation. Twenty years ago, when in Australia, Smailey forged a burial-certificate to get some trust-funds into his possession. The job was given to our house to investigate, only six weeks ago. Two days after, who should come to us for a detective to inquire into your affairs but Smailey, so we put the two jobs together, and I’m doing ’em both.Mrs. V. B.But how is it that a gentleman in your profession——Fitz.A gentleman! Mrs. Van Brugh, for reasons that will go down with me to the tomb, I am humbly and hopelessly anxious to stand high inyour good opinion. Appreciate my disinterestedness, when I voluntarily tell you that which will blight me in your estimation for ever. You think I’m an eminent solicitor. I ain’t; I’m the insignificant minion of a Private Inquiry Office.Mrs. V. B.But you were introduced to me as a solicitor.Fitz.It is a tantalizing feature of my contemptible calling, that I am continually being introduced as somebody I should particularly like to be. In the course of the last twelve months, I’ve been a Spanish Hidalgo, a Colonel of Hussars, an Ashantee Nobleman, and a Bishop of the Greek Church. What was the date of your marriage?Mrs. V. B.Some time in February, ’56 (with hesitation).Fitz.Day?Mrs. V. B.The—the 30th.Fitz.The 30th? Try again. Never more than twenty-nine days in February—seldom that.Mrs. V. B.I forget the exact date.Fitz.Where were you married, and by whom?Mrs. V. B.By—by (after some hesitation)—Sir, by your own admission you are a mere spy. How am I to know that you are not asking these questions with a view to using them against me?Fitz.(much hurt). Ma’am, may you never know the depth of the wound you have inflicted. It will canker, ma’am, but don’t be alarmed, it shall not inconvenience you, for I will remove it from yoursight. When we meet again, you will find me in the assumed character of a person who has not had his best feelings harrowed up for a considerable time. It will be a difficult assumption, ma’am, but I will do my best to sustain the fiction.[Exit.Mrs. V. B.At last! at last my punishment is at hand. And Eve—great heavens, what will become ofher? Eve—who loves and honors me—Eve, my child! I mustn’t think of that. It will madden me. I shall want all my head for what is to come! If news of this—marriage of mine (with a bitter laugh) had reached my godfather, he would have described me in his will as Captain Van Brugh’s wife, and then I am lost, and Eve is lost. Oh, why don’t that man come. This suspense is terrible. At last! He’s here!EnterEveandFredwithDr. Athelney.Eve.Mr. Smailey has returned with the will. Frederick has been explaining to me the difference between freehold and leasehold, and you don’t know how anxious I am to know which it is.Fred.Eve, Eve, this is very mercenary.EnterSmailey.Mr. S.Mrs. Van Brugh, I am most happy to tell you that it is every thing that could be wished. My dear Mrs. Van Brugh, the Buckinghamshire farm is freehold. Here is the clause which refers to it: (Reads very deliberately.) After giving you Westland Park, the Blackfriars estate, and the two reversions, the testator goes on to say, “And I further will and bequeathe all that messuage known as Goldacre Farm, together with all out-houses, ways, watercourses, trees, commonable rights, easements and appurtenances, and all the estate and rights of the said Richard Goldacre in and to the same, unto and to the use of the said Catherine Ellen, wife of Richard Van Brugh, Esq., a captain in the Royal Navy, her heirs and assigns forever.”(Mrs. Van Brughfalls senseless into a chair, her daughter bending over her.)

Scene:same as in Act I.

EnterMr. SmaileyandServant.

Mr. S.(very gently). Will you have the goodness to tell Mrs. Van Brugh that Mr. Smailey is here to see her, by appointment?

Serv.Mr. Smailey, sir? Yes, sir. (Going.)

EnterMr. Fitz Partington.

Fitz.(stoppingServant).Andhis solicitor.

Mr. S.(with mild sternness). You have followed me again, sir?

Fitz.Followed you again, sir; according to contract.

Mr. S.There is no contract between us that entitles you to dog my footsteps as though you were hunting down a thief.

Fitz.Hunting down a thief? Oh, yes. To enable me to assist you in blighting the character of the best and loveliest woman that ever shed a light upon a private detective’s thorny path, I am to have the free run of your house and papers; I am to accompany you wherever you go, and you are to introduce me everywhere as your solicitor.

Mr. S.Sir, you are not in the least like a solicitor. You are a ridiculously dressed person. You are like nothing in the world but what you are—aprivate detective. I desire to press hardly on no fellow-creature, but you are a spy! that base and utterably abject thing—a spy!

Fitz.Mr. Smailey, when you complain that you find my society irksome, you have my profoundest sympathy; I find it so myself. When you revile my profession, my sentiments are entirely in accord, for I have the very poorest opinion of it. But when you imply that I don’t look the character I undertake to represent, whythen, sir, you touch the private detective on the most sensitive part of his moral anatomy. I’m not a blameless character, but if I undertook to personate the Archbishop of Canterbury I believe I should look the part, and my conversation would be found to be in keeping with the character.

Mr. S.Pray, silence; oh, pray, pray, silence. You shock me inexpressibly. It is most painful to me to have to resort to your assistance. My son, my dear son, has engaged himself to marry Mrs. Van Brugh’s daughter. I have lately had reason to believe that there is something discreditable in Mrs. Van Brugh’s marriage relations, though I do not know its precise nature. You tell me that you have a certain clew to this flaw, though you decline to tell me what it is until your proofs are matured. Well, sir, the Smaileys are a very old and very famous family. Caius Smaileius came over with Julius Cæsar; his descendants have borne an untarnished scutcheon for eighteen hundred years.In its interest I am bound to employ you, and upon your own most exacting terms, though I can not think of your contemptible calling without a feeling of the most profound abhorrence.

Fitz.Sir, I am heartily ashamed of it.

Mr. S.You are a professional impostor; a hired lie.

Fitz.It is too true. I not only lie myself, but I am the cause of lying in others.

Mr. S.For the lies that have to be told in accounting for you I hold you entirely responsible. I wish that to be understood. I wash my hands of them altogether, and, when I think of the deep, deliberate, and utterly indefensible falsehoods that I have had to utter on your behalf, I tremble for your future—I tremble for your future.

Fitz.Unselfish man.

Mr. S.As for the preposterous terms you have dictated——

Fitz.Terms! I have insured to myself the unbroken enjoyment of your desirable society for six weeks, and believe me, when I say that if I had been acquainted with the inexpressible charms of the most fascinating woman that ever shed a light upon the private detective’s thorny path, I wouldn’t have undertaken the job, no, not even for a lifetime of your society!

EnterMrs. Van Brugh.

Mrs. V. B.Good morning, Mr. Smailey. I amsorry to have kept you waiting. (Aside) That absurd little man with him again. (Aloud) Good morning, Mr.——

Fitz.Fitz Partington.

Mrs. V. B.Fitz Partington, of course.

Fitz.(aside). She might remembermyname. I can’t conceive any circumstances under which I could forgethers!

Mr. S.Mr. Fitz Partington is entirely in my confidence. I brought him, because I believed that his familiarity with legal forms might assist us in our interview. You can speak without reserve before Mr. Fitz Partington. (Aside toFitz.) A lie, sir! Another lie, from first to last!

Mrs. V. B.I suppose the facts will come before Mr. Fitz Partington when they are decided on. The steps by which they are arrived at will only bore him. I’m sure Mr. Partington won’t be angry with me, when I ask him to amuse himself in the next room until preliminaries are arranged.

Fitz.Mrs. Van Brugh, I have made it a part of my moral code to step without hesitation into any apartment you may think fit to indicate.[Exit.

Mrs. V. B.Now, Mr. Smailey, about these settlements. I will tell you at once what I propose to do. My income is, as you know, a very large one—much larger than any one would suppose who judges from the quietness of my mode of life. I am an odd woman, and I spend my money in my own way. I have very many claims upon it, and,although I wish to deal handsomely with my darling Eve, I must not disappoint those who have counted upon me for some years past. To come to the point, I propose to settle my Buckinghamshire farm upon her, on the usual terms of a marriage settlement. I don’t know the technical expression—but on the usual terms.

Mr. S.The Buckinghamshire farm, yes. Thank you. I forget whether that is the leasehold or the freehold farm, for you have two.

Mrs. V. B.You mustn’t ask me. Your solicitor knows. It’s worth £500 a year, and that, I suppose, is the main point.

Mr. S.Not altogether; the difference in value may be prodigious. Have you a copy of the will?

Mrs. V. B.No. I never saw the will.

Mr. S.Never saw the will? I think I have a copy of it at home—with your permission, I will go and fetch it, and the matter can be decided at once.

Mrs. V. B.Do, by all means. I only know that my property is all my own, and that I can do what I like with it; and I assure you, Mr. Smailey, I avail myself of the privilege.

Mr. S.You do indeed. And that reminds me, Mrs. Van Brugh, that I am anxious to speak to you on another topic—a topic of a singularly painful character. I will endeavor, Mrs. Van Brugh, to approach it as delicately as possible.

Mrs. V. B.Indeed! (Alarmed.) You rouse mycuriosity, Mr. Smailey. Does it—does it refer in any way to myself?

Mr. S.Directly to yourself.

Mrs. V. B.(much alarmed). May I ask in what way?

Mr. S.As I said before, it is a most difficult subject to approach, and I would willingly spare you. Give me a moment to think how I can best put it to you.

Mrs. V. B.Pray have no hesitation in telling me what it is. (With half-disguised emotion.) Does it—does it refer in any way to my—to my past life, for instance? (With affected cheerfulness.)

Mr. S.It does refer to incidents in your past life. To many incidents in general, and to one incident in particular.

Mrs. V. B.For Heaven’s sake, sir, be explicit. Speak out, I implore you. (With suppressed agitation.)

Mr. S.You seem strangely agitated, Mrs. Van Brugh.

Mrs. V. B.No, no; I am ill and nervous to-day. Your manner is rather alarming. (With affected cheerfulness.) You know I’m a very bad hand at guessing riddles, Mr. Smailey. Come, what is it? I give it up. (He hesitates.) Why have you any hesitation in telling me?

Mr. S.Because it involves a particularly delicate moral point. (She is much agitated.) God bless me, you seem very much alarmed.

Mrs. V. B.(with determination). Mr. Smailey, once and for all, I insist upon knowing what it is.

Mr. S.Well, then, to be quite plain with you, it is currently reported in the village that you have taken a miserable woman from the streets and established her in the character of a respectable workwoman within a hundred yards of this spot. (Mrs. Van Brugh, whose agitation and alarm have been intense, is greatly relieved.) Moreover, I have been informed that you have, for some years past, been in the habit of searching out women of bad character who profess penitence, with the view of enabling them to earn their living in the society of blameless Christians.

Mrs. V. B.I have.

Mr. S.I tell you at once that I am loath to believe this thing.

Mrs. V. B.(with indignant surprise). Why are you loath to believe this thing?

Mr. S.Why? (Rises.) Because its audacity, its want of principle, and, above all, its unspeakable indelicacy, shock me beyond the power of expression.

Mrs. V. B.Mr. Smailey, is it possible that you are speaking deliberately? Think of any blameless woman whom you love and honor, and who is loved and honored of all. Think of the shivering outcast whose presence is contamination, whose touch is horror unspeakable, whose very existence is an unholy stain on God’s earth. Woman—loved,honored, courted by all. Woman—shunned, loathed, and unutterably despised, but still—Woman. I do not plead for those whose advantages of example and education render their fall ten thousand times more culpable. Let others speak for such as they. (With a broken voice.)—It may be that something is to be said, even for them. I plead for those who have had the world against them from the first—who with blunted weapons and untutored hands have fought society single-handed, and fallen in the unequal fight. God help them!

Mr. S.Mrs. Van Brugh, I have no desire to press hardly on any fellow-creature, but society, the grand arbiter in these matters, has decided that a woman who has once forfeited her moral position shall never regain it.

Mrs. V. B.Even though her repentance be sincere and beyond doubt?

Mr. S.Even so.

Mrs. V. B.Even though she fell unprotected, unadvised, perishing with want and chilled with despair?

Mr. S.Even so. For such a woman there is no excuse—for such a woman there is no pardon.

Mrs. V. B.You mean no pardon on earth?

Mr. S.Of course I mean no pardon on earth. What can I have to do with pardon elsewhere?

Mrs. V. B.Nothing. Mr. Smailey, when you have procured the will, I shall be ready to see you;but before you go let me tell you that I am inexpressibly shocked and pained at the terrible theory you have advanced. (He endeavors to speak.) Oh, understand me, I do not charge you with exceptional heartlessness. You represent the opinions of society, and society is fortunate in its mouthpiece. Heaven teaches that there is a pardon for every penitent. Earth teaches that there is one sin for which there is no pardon—when the sinner is a woman!

(Ruthhas entered. She is quietly and decently dressed, and carries a parcel of needlework in her hand.)

Mr. S.(aside). Mrs. Van Brugh, pray be quiet; we are observed.

Mrs. V. B.By the subject of our conversation.[ExitMrs. Van Brugh.

Ruth.I beg pardon—I thought the lady was alone. (Going.)

Mr. S.Stop, woman. (She turns and advances.) Don’t—don’t approach me—we have nothing in common. Listen at a distance. Mrs. Van Brugh has thought proper to place you on a pedestal that levels you, socially, with respectable Christians. In so doing, I consider that she has insulted respectable Christians. She thinks proper to suffer you to entermypresence. In so doing I consider that she has insultedme. I desire you to understand that when a woman of your stamp enters the presence of a Christian gentleman, she——

Ruth.(who has been looking at him in wonder during this speech). Smailey! That’s neveryou! (Mr. S.falls back in his chair.)

Ruth.Ay, Smailey, it’s Ruth Tredgett.

Mr. S.(very confused). I did not know whom I was speaking to.

Ruth.But you knowedwhatyou was speakin’ to, Jonas Smailey. Go on. I’m kinder curous to hear whatyou’vegot to say about a woman o’ my stamp. I’m kinder curous to hear wot Jonas Smailey’s got to say about his own work.

Mr. S.We meet in a strange way after so many years.

Ruth.Yes; we do meet in a strange way. Seems to me it’s suthin’ of a topsy-turvy way. But it’s a topsy-turvy world, ain’t it?

Mr. S.(recovering himself with bland dignity). I have no desire to press hardly on any fellow-creature——

Ruth.(quietly). Come, that’s kind, anyhow.

Mr. S.Perhaps, after all, you were not entirely to blame.

Ruth.Well, p’raps not.

Mr. S.Perhaps I myself was not altogether without reproach in the matter. But in my case allowance should, in common charity, be made for follies that arise from extreme youth and—and inexperience. I was barely forty then.

Ruth.And I was just sixteen. Well, I forgive you, along o’ your youth, as I hope to be forgiven along o’ my childhood.

Mr. S.(rises). The tone you adopt is in the worst possible taste. The misguided lady who has taken upon herself, most wickedly, to foist you upon society, has committed a fraud, which——

Ruth.Stopthere, Smailey! You’re getting on dangerous ground. Best leave that lady alone. She’s a bit chipped off heaven—she’s good right through. She’s—she’s—I’m slow at findin’ words that mean goodness. My words run mostly the other way, wus luck. If I had to tell o’you, Smailey, they’d come handy and strong. I can’t find words that meanher!

Mr. S.I have no wish to be hard on you, but itisa fraud, and——

Ruth.Fraud? Fraud’s a bad word to come fromyou, Smailey. I’d ha’ thought you’d ha’ fought shy o’ that word, for the rest o’ your days.

Mr. S.(taken aback). I don’t know what you refer to.

Ruth.I’m referrin’ to Martha Vane of Melbourne. What, yer recklect Martha Vane, do yer?

Mr. S.Martha Vane! Yes, I remember Vane. Pooh! There is nothing to connect me with that matter.

Ruth.Nothing? I’ve writin’ of yours which is fourteen year, if it’s a day.

Mr. S.And do you mean to say that you would be guilty of such inhumanity—such devilish inhumanity (I use the word “devilish” in its religious sense) as to bring up an act of youthful folly—guilt if you will—against me now that I have achieved wealth, reputation, and social position?

Ruth.No, you’re safe, Smailey. Bring it up agin yer now? Why, you may have repented, who knows? You was a bad lot, sure enough, but that’s twenty years agone, and you may ha’ repented.

Mr. S.I have; I’m an altered person—I—I—will make it well worth your while to give me up that writing you refer to. I will pay you very handsomely for it.

Ruth.Pay! no; I ain’t on that lay. I’m square now. I’m a ’spectable woman. I only takes money wot I earns. It comes slow, but it comes comfortable.

Mr. S.Your sentiments do you credit. I confess I did not look for such delicacy of feeling in you; it exalts one’s idea of human nature. I am thankful for any thing that exalts one’s idea of human nature. Thank you, Tredgett. Give me these papers.

Ruth.No; I’m ’spectable, but I ain’t a fool. I’ll keep ’em, case I want ’em.

Mr. S.As you please. Remember, Tredgett, I am a person of influence here, and a county magistrate——

Ruth.What, d’you sit at quarter sessions?

Mr. S.Certainly.

Ruth.And sentence poor prigs?

Mr. S.Yes. Why do you ask?

Ruth.Nothing; go on—it’s all topsy-turvy!

Mr. S.I shall be happy if I can serve you in any way. I shall always be glad to hear that you are doing well, and I feel certain that the admirable lady who has so kindly taken you in hand will have no reason to regret her charity. It is easy to fall, and hard to rise again—Heaven bless those who extend a helping hand. I am very glad indeed that we have met. I’ve no wish to press hardly on any fellow-creature.[Exit.

Ruth.Jonas Smailey! Smailey here! Things come about queerly. I seed him last at t’other end o’ the world, and to meet him here! Who’s that? (Fitz Partingtonhas entered unobserved on tiptoe, and tapped her on the shoulder.)

Fitz.Come here. (Taking out note-book.) Your name’s Ruth Tredgett?

Ruth.(surprised). Ay.

Fitz.What are you?

Ruth.A ’spectable woman. Wot areyou?

Fitz.A detective.

Ruth.(falling back horrified). Wot’s it for?

Fitz.Nothing.Youain’t wanted, but your address is.

Ruth.I’m living at Barker’s in the village.

Fitz.Present occupation?

Ruth.Needlewoman.

Fitz.Late occupation?

Ruth.Tramp. There’s nothin’ agin me?

Fitz.Nothing against you, every thing for you; even this half-crown.

Ruth.I don’t like p’leece money. I never took none yet, I ain’t a goin’ to begin now. I wish yer good day. I don’t like p’leece money.[Exit.

Fitz.I’m not a policeman, I’m a private detective; but we won’t split hairs. (Pockets coin.) I thought Smailey was my man, now I’m sure of it. Ha! ha! Now, Smailey has a game. The question is, what is it? He says it’s his scutcheon, but that is Walker, because his father was a wig-maker. However, it’s quite clear that, whatever his game may be, it is my duty to put that inestimable woman on her guard.

EnterMrs. Van Brugh.

Mrs. V. B.Has not Mr. Smailey returned?

Fitz.No, ma’am, he has not. (He shows traces of emotion.)

Mrs. V. B.Mr. Fitz Partington, is any thing the matter?

Fitz.Ma’am, you have come upon me in a moment of professional conscientiousness. Avail yourself of it, for such moments are rare and fleeting. Beware of Smailey.

Mrs. V. B.What in the world do you mean?

Fitz.I mean that he is endeavoring to prove that—that you were not legally married to Captain Van Brugh.

Mrs. V. B.(intensely agitated). Mr. Fitz Partington, you can not be aware of the full import of your words. What can be Mr. Smailey’s motive for making these preposterous inquiries?

Fitz.That’s just what I want to get at. In a general way it’s sure to be something dirty. Perhaps he thinks that the property you inherit from Captain Van Brugh isn’t legally yours, and, therefore, can’t be settled by you on your daughter.

Mrs. V. B.But I inherited very little indeed from Captain Van Brugh. The bulk of my property was left me by my godfather.

Fitz.Then I’m wrong. But does Smailey know this?

Mrs. V. B.Know it! Why, of course he knows it. He’s my godfather’s nephew, and next-of-kin.

Fitz.What! His next-of-kin? Next-of-kin is a fruitful expression. I see a whole plantation of motives cropping out of “next-of-kin.” Have you a copy of the will?

Mrs. V. B.No. But Mr. Smailey has—indeed he has gone to fetch it.

Fitz.Can you tell me the terms of the legacy?

Mrs. V. B.No, not precisely. I have never seen the will. My solicitor has told me its purport in general terms.

Fitz.Are you referred to in that will by your married or maiden name?

Mrs. V. B.Oh, by my maiden name.

Fitz.You are sure of that?

Mrs. V. B.Quite sure. At least, Ifeelquite sure. I can’t be absolutely certain, but—oh, yes; I am sure of it.

Fitz.What was the date of the will?

Mrs. V. B.1856.

Fitz.What was the year of your marriage?

Mrs. V. B.(after a pause). 1856.

Fitz.My dear Mrs. Van Brugh, this is most important. The news of your marriage might or might not have reached the testator in Australia. If there is any flaw in your marriage, and if you are described in that will as Captain Van Brugh’s wife, every penny you possess will revert to Smailey. Now, Smailey is a scoundrel.

Mrs. V. B.Mr. Fitz Partington, pray explain yourself.

Fitz.In the full conviction that what I am going to say will be treated as confidential, Iwillexplain myself. I’m after Smailey. Smailey will soon be wanted.

Mrs. V. B.This is scarcely an explanation.

Fitz.Scarcely an explanation. Twenty years ago, when in Australia, Smailey forged a burial-certificate to get some trust-funds into his possession. The job was given to our house to investigate, only six weeks ago. Two days after, who should come to us for a detective to inquire into your affairs but Smailey, so we put the two jobs together, and I’m doing ’em both.

Mrs. V. B.But how is it that a gentleman in your profession——

Fitz.A gentleman! Mrs. Van Brugh, for reasons that will go down with me to the tomb, I am humbly and hopelessly anxious to stand high inyour good opinion. Appreciate my disinterestedness, when I voluntarily tell you that which will blight me in your estimation for ever. You think I’m an eminent solicitor. I ain’t; I’m the insignificant minion of a Private Inquiry Office.

Mrs. V. B.But you were introduced to me as a solicitor.

Fitz.It is a tantalizing feature of my contemptible calling, that I am continually being introduced as somebody I should particularly like to be. In the course of the last twelve months, I’ve been a Spanish Hidalgo, a Colonel of Hussars, an Ashantee Nobleman, and a Bishop of the Greek Church. What was the date of your marriage?

Mrs. V. B.Some time in February, ’56 (with hesitation).

Fitz.Day?

Mrs. V. B.The—the 30th.

Fitz.The 30th? Try again. Never more than twenty-nine days in February—seldom that.

Mrs. V. B.I forget the exact date.

Fitz.Where were you married, and by whom?

Mrs. V. B.By—by (after some hesitation)—Sir, by your own admission you are a mere spy. How am I to know that you are not asking these questions with a view to using them against me?

Fitz.(much hurt). Ma’am, may you never know the depth of the wound you have inflicted. It will canker, ma’am, but don’t be alarmed, it shall not inconvenience you, for I will remove it from yoursight. When we meet again, you will find me in the assumed character of a person who has not had his best feelings harrowed up for a considerable time. It will be a difficult assumption, ma’am, but I will do my best to sustain the fiction.[Exit.

Mrs. V. B.At last! at last my punishment is at hand. And Eve—great heavens, what will become ofher? Eve—who loves and honors me—Eve, my child! I mustn’t think of that. It will madden me. I shall want all my head for what is to come! If news of this—marriage of mine (with a bitter laugh) had reached my godfather, he would have described me in his will as Captain Van Brugh’s wife, and then I am lost, and Eve is lost. Oh, why don’t that man come. This suspense is terrible. At last! He’s here!

EnterEveandFredwithDr. Athelney.

Eve.Mr. Smailey has returned with the will. Frederick has been explaining to me the difference between freehold and leasehold, and you don’t know how anxious I am to know which it is.

Fred.Eve, Eve, this is very mercenary.

EnterSmailey.

Mr. S.Mrs. Van Brugh, I am most happy to tell you that it is every thing that could be wished. My dear Mrs. Van Brugh, the Buckinghamshire farm is freehold. Here is the clause which refers to it: (Reads very deliberately.) After giving you Westland Park, the Blackfriars estate, and the two reversions, the testator goes on to say, “And I further will and bequeathe all that messuage known as Goldacre Farm, together with all out-houses, ways, watercourses, trees, commonable rights, easements and appurtenances, and all the estate and rights of the said Richard Goldacre in and to the same, unto and to the use of the said Catherine Ellen, wife of Richard Van Brugh, Esq., a captain in the Royal Navy, her heirs and assigns forever.”

(Mrs. Van Brughfalls senseless into a chair, her daughter bending over her.)

ACT III.Scene:Morning room inSmailey’shouse. Door at back, giving on to a pretty garden.Frederickdiscovered sealing a letter.Fred.“Your eternally attached Frederick.” If there was any flaw in Mrs. Van Brugh’s marriage, as my father seems to suspect—and his suspicions are corroborated by her astonishing behavior on his reading her godfather’s will—then Mrs. Van Brugh is penniless—and Eve is penniless too. Poor little lady. I’m afraid I shall have to cry off. I’m sorry for the poor child, because I’m sure she is fond of me. I’m sorry for myself, because I’msure I’m fond of her. But when a man proposes to marry, he must not allow himself to be misled by his affections. As far as Eve is concerned I see no difficulty. She is a tender-hearted and sensitive little thing, heaven bless her, and can be easily shaken off. But my poor old father; how indignant he will be if I dare to suggest what he would consider a dishonorable course! Why, if he thought me capable of breaking a solemn engagement for a mercenary motive, he’d disown me! No, I must rest my excuse on a surer ground. I must touch his sense of family pride. I must remind him of the blight that would fall on our race, if I intermarried with a tainted family. A really good man does a deal of harm in the world. One has to stoop to so much dirty dissimulation before one can meet him on equal terms.EnterMr. Smailey.Mr. S.} Frederick, I want to speak seriously—Fred.} Father, I want to speak seriously——Mr. S.Eh?Fred.I beg your pardon.Mr. S.I was about to say that I want to speak to you on a most serious and important matter.Fred.Dear me, that’s very odd! Do you know I was about to say the very same thing! I am most anxious to speak toyouon amostserious andmostimportant matter. Excuse me for one moment, while I give this note to Robins.Mr. S.Whom are you writing to?Fred.To my darling, of course?[Exit.Mr. S.To his darling! Poor lad! He’s a noble fellow! No mercenary thought in connection with the girl has ever entered his head! But he must never marry her. Every thing points to the fact that Mrs. Van Brugh’s marriage was illegal, and, if so, her daughter is portionless. Thank Heaven! his sense of moral rectitude is so high that when he knows that her mother’s conduct is open to suspicion he may feel bound to dissociate himself from her. Ah, it is a pleasant and a goodly thing when a parent finds that the strict principles he has instilled into his offspring are bearing golden fruit on which they both may feed!EnterFrederick.Mr. S.(aside).} How shall I break it to him?Fred.(aside).} How shall I begin?Fred.Now I’m at your disposal.Mr. S.Frederick, my dear lad, this life of ours is made up of hopes frustrated, and cherished schemes brought to nothing.Fred.Very true. A man who places himself under the sweet dominion of his conscience, must not count on the fulfillment of even his most innocent intentions.Mr. S.Unforeseen circumstances occasionally arise that render it almost criminal to carry out an otherwise laudable purpose.Fred.For instance: a discovery that a contemplated act would, if carried out, bring dishonor on a long line of ancestors.Mr. S.Or give an implied sanction to a discreditable, if not an immoral, relationship. Events might occur which would justify him in breaking the most solemn pledge.Fred.Justify him! I can conceive a state of things under which he would be morally bound to cast his most sacred obligations to the wind.Mr. S.My dear boy!Fred.My dear father! (They shake hands.)Mr. S.Now Fred, this is what I was coming to, my boy. We are the last descendants of a very noble family.Fred.So I have often heard you say. And that reminds me to mention a matter, upon which I have long desired to talk to you——Mr. S.(interrupting). I am free to admit that I am proud of my ancestry.Fred.My dear father, the safe-keeping of their honor is my dearest aim. And, talking of my ancestors’ honor, reminds me——Mr. S.(interrupting). If Caius Smaileius heard that one of his race was about to marry, for instance, into a tainted family, I believe the doughty old Roman would turn in his tumulus!Fred.What you say about a tainted family is so true, that I venture——Mr. S.My dear Fred, it’s no use beating aboutthe bush. The girl you are engaged to—as good a girl as ever lived, is (there is no use in disguising it) a member of a tainted family. (Fredturns fromSmailey.) It is therefore my duty to urge upon you, as the last of our line, the propriety, the necessity, of releasing Eve from her engagement. (Frederickappears hurt and indignant.) I know I am asking much, very much, of you. I know how tenderly you love the girl; but a flaw, my dear Fred, and you a Smailey! My boy, it is impossible.Fred.(in affected indignation). Am I to understand that you require me to surrender my darling Eve. Never! With all possible respect for your authority—Never!Mr. S.But, Fred, remember, my boy, remember, her mother has committed afaux pasof some kind.Fred.It would certainly seem so; but I have given my word, and it is my duty to keep it.Mr. S.What is duty to the living compared with duty to the dead. Think what your ancestors have done for you. And are we to neglect our duty to them, because they can do no more for us? Oh! shame, shame!Fred.(with apparent reluctance). There is much truth in what you say, still——Mr. S.To marry into such a family as hers, now that we know the truth, would be, as it were, to countenance her guilt.Fred.I can not deny it. Nevertheless, I——Mr. S.Would it be just—would it bemoralto do this?Fred.No, no; I see it now.Mr. S.Show yourself to be a man of moral courage. As for what the world will say, do the right thing, my boy, and let them say what they please.Fred.(after a pause). Father, you are right. As a moral man I have no alternative but to comply with your wish. At any cost it must be done—at any cost itshallbe done!Mr. S.That’s right, my dear, dear boy; and you shall find that you have lost little by your determination. And now that that’s settled, let us enter intoyouraffairs. What was it that you wanted to speak to me so seriously about just now?Fred.I? Oh, dear no.Mr. S.But surely, you said——Fred.Oh, to be sure! I—oh, it’s not of the least consequence.Mr. S.Something about poor little Eve, wasn’t it?Fred.Yes; about poor little Eve. How little do we know what five minutes may bring forth! I was actually going to consult you about fixing a day for our wedding. (Wiping his eyes.)Mr. S.My poor boy, you have behaved nobly. You are a true Smailey.Fred.(taking his hand). I hope it is not presumptuous in me, but I sometimes think I am.Mr. S.I have wounded you deeply. Let me compensate you by telling you a more pleasantpiece of news. I have discovered Fitz Partington’s clew.Fred.Indeed! I am rejoiced to hear it.Mr. S.Yes. Mrs. Van Brugh told me on Tuesday that she had never actually seen her godfather’s will. So I felt it to be my duty to make an excuse for reading aloud that part of the will in which she is particularly described. I did so, and she fainted. Now, my dear Fred, what does this point to?Fred.I should say bigamy.Mr. S.You would say bigamy, and so should I. I suggested this to Fitz Partington, and he seemed amazed at my penetration. We laid our heads together, and, at his suggestion, I drew up this advertisement. (Hands MS. advertisement, which he has taken from table-drawer.)Fred.(reads).£50 Reward. This sum will be paid for a true copy of the burial certificate of the first wife of the late Captain Van Brugh, R.N. She is known to have died at Melbourne within the last eight years.Are you sure Fitz Partington is acting straightforwardly with you?Mr. S.Why should he do otherwise?Fred.£50 is a large sum.Mr. S.A large sum? If I can only establish the fact that the first Mrs. Van Brugh died within the last eight years, every penny of this so-called Mrs. Van Brugh’s income—£8,000 a year at least—reverts to me.Fred.Then, dear me——Mr. S.Eh?Fred.Poor Eve will lose her settlement!Mr. S.True; quite true. Dear me, I never thought of that. Poor Eve!Fred.Poor, poor Eve!EnterRuth.Ruth.I’ve brought this note from my lady.Mr. S.Oh! There may be an answer. Stay.Ruth.(quietly). Yes; I’ll stay.Mr. S.(reads note). Oh! Mrs. Van Brugh writes to say that she wishes to see me this afternoon—alone. (Sits down to write.)Fred.Alone! Oh, then—then perhaps I’d better withdraw. (With affected emotion.)Ruth.Ay, perhaps you better had.(She follows him with her eyes as he goes to the door. He seems uneasy. Then exit.)Mr. S.There is the answer. (Finishing note.)Ruth.Smailey; wot’s wrong about my lady?Mr. S.Wrong?Ruth.Ay, there’s ruin comin’ to her, and she knows it. She’s been queer-like these two days. I’ve come upon her cryin’ odd times, and she’s as white as death. Wot is it, Smailey?Mr. S.Probably a head-ache. I’m not a doctor.Ruth.I am. It’s no head-ache—it’s heart-ache. It’s ruin.Mr. S.Itisruin; to her wealth, and her good name.Ruth.Her good name? Why,you’renever goin’ to meddle wi’that.Mr. S.You are deceived in your mistress. (Rises.) I will tell you what she has been——Ruth.Stop! I won’t hear it, Smailey, I won’t hear it. Let bygones go by: no odds what shehasbeen; think wot she is; think wotyou’vebeen. As I’ve dealt fair wi’ you, deal you fair wi’ her. Take wot’s yourn, but don’t take no more.Mr. S.My rights and her good name are bound up together, I can not claim the one without destroying the other. I only want what the law will give me, if I commence proceedings.Ruth.(changing her tone). If you commence proceedings, wot the law will give you is fourteen year, take my word for it. I’ve spoke fair, and no good’s come of it, so I’ll speak foul. Look here, Smailey, you’ve put a plot afoot to ruin my lady. Now my lady’s got a dog, Smailey, and that dog won’t stand no plots. Do you hear that, Smailey. Stir hand or foot to harm that pure and spotless creature, and sure as my lady’s dog has a set of fangs she’ll fix them in your throat.Mr. S.This is hard. This is very hard. Even Mrs. Van Brugh would herself at once admit the justice of my claim.Ruth.Well, wait till she does.Mr. S.(after a pause). There is a good deal of sound common sense in what you say, Tredgett. Still, if—ifMrs. Van Brugh should at any timemake a statement ofher own free will, you will surely allow me to profit by it?Ruth.Wotever my lady does of her own free will is angels’ doin’, and is right accordin’.Mr. S.(aside). Then I think I see my way. (Aloud.) Well, Ruth, on that understanding you have my promise.Ruth.Promise?Yourpromise? Smailey, don’t you meddle with things you don’t understand. Promises are ticklish goods inyourhands. They’re temptin’ things to break, and you was always easy tempted. No, no; don’tyoupromise.I’llpromise this time, Smailey.I’llpromise.[ExitRuth.Mr. S.A sin, an early sin—a sin committed twenty years ago, brought up against me now that I am an honest man, and a regular church-goer! I am absolutely bound hand and foot by it—and to what end? For the protection of a woman who has committed Heaven knows what offense against morality. If this crime were to be proved against me, what on earth would become of me? For years I have endeavored to atone for my sin against society by treating wrong-doers brought before me with the strictest and most unflinching severity. Would Society be grateful for this—Would it even take heed of it? No; my atonement would go for nothing—absolutely nothing. Ah! this is a merciless world, and one in which penitence is taken no account of. But have a care, Mrs. Van Brugh, I’ll bide my time. You shall yetsee that a sin against morality is not to be wiped out by a few years of sentimental self-denial!EnterEveandFred.Fred.Father, I met Mrs. Van Brugh and my darling on their way here, so I turned back with them.Mr. S.My dear Eve. (Kisses her. EnterMrs. Van Brugh.) Mrs. Van Brugh, I am very pleased to see you. Pray sit down. You look pale; I am afraid you are tired.Mrs. V. B.No, I have not been very well lately.Eve.Mamma wished to come alone, as she wants to speak to you on business, but I wouldn’t hear of that, as she is really very far from well, so I’ve brought her to you, Mr. Smailey; and now I’m going to take a turn in the garden with Fred. Dr. Athelney is waiting for us in the arbor.Fred.If the arbor were a consecrated arbor, and I had a license in my pocket, we might take a turn—in the garden—that would surprise our dear friends.Eve.What, without a wedding-dress and bridesmaids, and bouquets and presents, and a breakfast? My dear Fred, it wouldn’t be legal![ExeuntEveandFredinto the garden.Mrs. V. B.(after a pause). Mr. Smailey, I come to you in great distress. On Tuesday last, a circumstance occurred, no matter what it was, that induced me to believe that there was a flaw—avital flaw—in my title to all I possess. Mr. Smailey, I haven’t a shilling in the world.Mr. S.A shilling! My very dear lady, you haven’t a penny.Mrs. V. B.What! Do you know this?Mr. S.Mrs. Van Brugh, I will be candid with you. The Smaileys are a very, very old and very famous family. No suspicion of a bar sinister has ever shadowed their escutcheon. My son is betrothed to your daughter, and I have reason to believe that you are not entitled to the name you bear. Therefore, in his interests, and in those of his slumbering ancestors, I have taken steps to ascertain the truth.Mrs. V. B.(much agitated). What do you hope to prove?Mr. S.That when you went through the form of marriage with the late Captain Van Brugh you knew that his first wife was still alive.Mrs. V. B.(wildly). No, no, no! Mr. Smailey, it is bad enough, but not so bad as that. Oh, Mr. Smailey, dismiss that fearful thought from your mind, and I will tell you the truth I came here to tell. It’s a bitter, bitter truth, but not so bad as you would make it out to be.Mr. S.What is the truth? (Sternly.)Mrs. V. B.I—I—when I met Captain Van Brugh—I was very young, and my mother was dead—and— (Bursts into tears and sobs wildly, laying her head on the table.)Mr. S.What is the truth?Mrs. V. B.Oh, man, man, can’t you read it in these tears? Is there not shame enough in my face, that you want it in shameful words. Read what you see before you, and as you are a man with a heart, keep my secret; oh, keep my unhappy secret!Mr. S.What! am I to understand that you never even went through theformof marriage with Captain Van Brugh?Mrs. V. B.(under her breath). Never!Mr. S.(after a pause). I decline to believe you. I had hoped that it was barely possible you were the unconscious dupe of a reckless scamp. I now believe that you were well aware of the crime you were committing, and you take this step to avoid its legal consequences.Mrs. V. B.(with forced calmness). Mr. Smailey, I have, perhaps, no right to be indignant at this insult; but you are mistaken—utterly mistaken. Have you no pity, no sympathy? See, every thing I possess is legally yours; I leave your presence penniless. Commence an action against me, and I will quietly yield up every thing before the case comes into court; but, if you love your son, spare me the shame, the intolerable shame, of a public exposure!Mr. S.I will spare you nothing; neither will I take the step you suggest, nor any other step to dispossess you. In this matter I am passive; Ileave you to act as conscience may prompt you. But understand that I will be a party to no concealment, no subterfuge. On these terms, and on no other, will I consent to take this property.Mrs. V. B.(wildly). What am I to do? I can not keep it, and I have no one to advise me!Mr. S.I will advise you. You have sinned, and must make atonement. There are witnesses at hand, let them hear the truth: whatever the truth may be, let them hear it.Mrs. V. B.What witnesses?Mr. S.Dr. Athelney, my dear son, Ruth Tredgett, and your daughter.Mrs. V. B.(wildly). No, no; not before Eve. You can not mean that I am to say this before Eve. Think, Mr. Smailey, what you are asking me to do. I am her mother!Mr. S.I desire to press hardly on no fellow-creature, but it is meet that she should know the truth. Indeed, as a principle, truth can not be too widely known.Mrs. V. B.But she knows nothing of this miserable matter. She believes, as others believe, that I was married abroad and that my husband died soon after.Mr. S.A mother seeking to deceive her own child!Mrs. V. B.Take every penny I possess, but for Eve’s sake spare me this intolerable shame. I will sign any deed you please that will convey my property to you, but leave me the love and honor of my darling child.Mr. S.I decline to place myself in the invidious position of one who takes steps to dispossess a helpless lady; I also decline to be a party to any deception. If you refuse to make the public admission I require, you maykeepyour ill-gotten wealth.Mrs. V. B.Keep it! Why I am here, of my own free will, to surrender into your hands my wealth, and with it my good name!Mr. S.I feel it to be my duty to remind you that you have as little right to the one as to the other.Mrs. V. B.What shall I do—What shall I do? If I refuse to publish my sin, this man will make it known to the whole world.Mr. S.No; there you wrong me. That would be an unmanly act indeed, Miss Brandreth.Mrs. V. B.Miss Brandreth!Mr. S.That, I presume, is your name. Pardon me, but now that I know the truth, I could not conscientiously call you Mrs. Van Brugh. It would be a lie. For the future I shall call you Miss Brandreth, but—I shall systematically withhold my reasons for so doing.Mrs. V. B.Mr. Smailey, think what you are compelling me to do. I have sinned, and for many years I have unceasingly endeavored to atone for that sin. Blessed with an ample fortune, I havedevoted four-fifths of it to the rescue of the unhappiest among unhappy women. In my search for them I have waded, year after year, through the foulest depths of misery and disgrace, with ears and eyes outraged at every turn. In the face of galling rebuke and insult unspeakable, in the face of cold ridicule and insolent misconstruction, I have held on to the task I set myself, and through the mercy of heaven—the infinite mercy of heaven—I have succeeded. I have no desire to speak of these things, and to no other man would I utter them. But you talk to me of atonement; and have I not atoned? Oh! have I not atoned?Mr. S.See how the deeds and words of these last years show in the fierce light you have just thrown upon them. You have lost no opportunity of rebuking my hardness of heart because I can not pardon an act of immorality. See from what a foul and muddy source your own forgiveness springs. You have taunted me with my severity towards wrong-doers. See from what an interested motive your own leniency arises. You have publicly assailed my want of charity. Had I the control of another man’s income my charities might perhaps outvie your own. In one word, if you retain your social position, you are morally an impostor. If you retain my property, you are morally——Mrs. V. B.(interrupting him). Enough! You have spoken, and I know you now. I can see through those cold hard eyes down into the cold hard heartfrom which they take their tone. I read there the stony creed, “A woman who has once fallen shall never rise again.” So let it be. You are strong—for you have the world on your side. I am weak—for I am alone. If I am to die this moral death, it shall be by my own hand. Theyshallhear the truth. (EveandFrederickhave appeared at the door; she turns and sees them; they are followed byDr. AthelneyandEdward.) Come here, Eve; come here, Dr. Athelney; all of you come here. (Evecomes forward and kneels at her mother’s feet.) Eve, my darling, my pet—Eve dear, kiss me. Kiss me again and again—my child, my child! Kiss me now, for you may never kiss me again. Dr. Athelney, you love me, I know. Edward, my dear old friend, listen while I tell you what manner of woman you have loved——Ruth.(rushing forward). No, no, mistress, you mustn’t say it, don’t, don’t speak it; for the love of mercy don’t speak it. As I’m a sinful woman, it’ll be worse than death to me.Mrs. V. B.I must go on to the end. Do you know on what kind of thing you have lavished the treasure of your love? You have lavished it on a fallen woman—an unhappy creature, who has committed that one sin for which on earth there is no atonement—no forgiveness. You think of me as Captain Brugh’s widow; God forgive me, I never was his wife!(Ruthrecoils from her with an exclamation of horror.Evefalls senseless intoEdward’sarms.SmaileyandFrederickwatch the group from a corner of the stage.)

Scene:Morning room inSmailey’shouse. Door at back, giving on to a pretty garden.

Frederickdiscovered sealing a letter.

Fred.“Your eternally attached Frederick.” If there was any flaw in Mrs. Van Brugh’s marriage, as my father seems to suspect—and his suspicions are corroborated by her astonishing behavior on his reading her godfather’s will—then Mrs. Van Brugh is penniless—and Eve is penniless too. Poor little lady. I’m afraid I shall have to cry off. I’m sorry for the poor child, because I’m sure she is fond of me. I’m sorry for myself, because I’msure I’m fond of her. But when a man proposes to marry, he must not allow himself to be misled by his affections. As far as Eve is concerned I see no difficulty. She is a tender-hearted and sensitive little thing, heaven bless her, and can be easily shaken off. But my poor old father; how indignant he will be if I dare to suggest what he would consider a dishonorable course! Why, if he thought me capable of breaking a solemn engagement for a mercenary motive, he’d disown me! No, I must rest my excuse on a surer ground. I must touch his sense of family pride. I must remind him of the blight that would fall on our race, if I intermarried with a tainted family. A really good man does a deal of harm in the world. One has to stoop to so much dirty dissimulation before one can meet him on equal terms.

EnterMr. Smailey.

Mr. S.} Frederick, I want to speak seriously—

Fred.} Father, I want to speak seriously——

Mr. S.Eh?

Fred.I beg your pardon.

Mr. S.I was about to say that I want to speak to you on a most serious and important matter.

Fred.Dear me, that’s very odd! Do you know I was about to say the very same thing! I am most anxious to speak toyouon amostserious andmostimportant matter. Excuse me for one moment, while I give this note to Robins.

Mr. S.Whom are you writing to?

Fred.To my darling, of course?[Exit.

Mr. S.To his darling! Poor lad! He’s a noble fellow! No mercenary thought in connection with the girl has ever entered his head! But he must never marry her. Every thing points to the fact that Mrs. Van Brugh’s marriage was illegal, and, if so, her daughter is portionless. Thank Heaven! his sense of moral rectitude is so high that when he knows that her mother’s conduct is open to suspicion he may feel bound to dissociate himself from her. Ah, it is a pleasant and a goodly thing when a parent finds that the strict principles he has instilled into his offspring are bearing golden fruit on which they both may feed!

EnterFrederick.

Mr. S.(aside).} How shall I break it to him?

Fred.(aside).} How shall I begin?

Fred.Now I’m at your disposal.

Mr. S.Frederick, my dear lad, this life of ours is made up of hopes frustrated, and cherished schemes brought to nothing.

Fred.Very true. A man who places himself under the sweet dominion of his conscience, must not count on the fulfillment of even his most innocent intentions.

Mr. S.Unforeseen circumstances occasionally arise that render it almost criminal to carry out an otherwise laudable purpose.

Fred.For instance: a discovery that a contemplated act would, if carried out, bring dishonor on a long line of ancestors.

Mr. S.Or give an implied sanction to a discreditable, if not an immoral, relationship. Events might occur which would justify him in breaking the most solemn pledge.

Fred.Justify him! I can conceive a state of things under which he would be morally bound to cast his most sacred obligations to the wind.

Mr. S.My dear boy!

Fred.My dear father! (They shake hands.)

Mr. S.Now Fred, this is what I was coming to, my boy. We are the last descendants of a very noble family.

Fred.So I have often heard you say. And that reminds me to mention a matter, upon which I have long desired to talk to you——

Mr. S.(interrupting). I am free to admit that I am proud of my ancestry.

Fred.My dear father, the safe-keeping of their honor is my dearest aim. And, talking of my ancestors’ honor, reminds me——

Mr. S.(interrupting). If Caius Smaileius heard that one of his race was about to marry, for instance, into a tainted family, I believe the doughty old Roman would turn in his tumulus!

Fred.What you say about a tainted family is so true, that I venture——

Mr. S.My dear Fred, it’s no use beating aboutthe bush. The girl you are engaged to—as good a girl as ever lived, is (there is no use in disguising it) a member of a tainted family. (Fredturns fromSmailey.) It is therefore my duty to urge upon you, as the last of our line, the propriety, the necessity, of releasing Eve from her engagement. (Frederickappears hurt and indignant.) I know I am asking much, very much, of you. I know how tenderly you love the girl; but a flaw, my dear Fred, and you a Smailey! My boy, it is impossible.

Fred.(in affected indignation). Am I to understand that you require me to surrender my darling Eve. Never! With all possible respect for your authority—Never!

Mr. S.But, Fred, remember, my boy, remember, her mother has committed afaux pasof some kind.

Fred.It would certainly seem so; but I have given my word, and it is my duty to keep it.

Mr. S.What is duty to the living compared with duty to the dead. Think what your ancestors have done for you. And are we to neglect our duty to them, because they can do no more for us? Oh! shame, shame!

Fred.(with apparent reluctance). There is much truth in what you say, still——

Mr. S.To marry into such a family as hers, now that we know the truth, would be, as it were, to countenance her guilt.

Fred.I can not deny it. Nevertheless, I——

Mr. S.Would it be just—would it bemoralto do this?

Fred.No, no; I see it now.

Mr. S.Show yourself to be a man of moral courage. As for what the world will say, do the right thing, my boy, and let them say what they please.

Fred.(after a pause). Father, you are right. As a moral man I have no alternative but to comply with your wish. At any cost it must be done—at any cost itshallbe done!

Mr. S.That’s right, my dear, dear boy; and you shall find that you have lost little by your determination. And now that that’s settled, let us enter intoyouraffairs. What was it that you wanted to speak to me so seriously about just now?

Fred.I? Oh, dear no.

Mr. S.But surely, you said——

Fred.Oh, to be sure! I—oh, it’s not of the least consequence.

Mr. S.Something about poor little Eve, wasn’t it?

Fred.Yes; about poor little Eve. How little do we know what five minutes may bring forth! I was actually going to consult you about fixing a day for our wedding. (Wiping his eyes.)

Mr. S.My poor boy, you have behaved nobly. You are a true Smailey.

Fred.(taking his hand). I hope it is not presumptuous in me, but I sometimes think I am.

Mr. S.I have wounded you deeply. Let me compensate you by telling you a more pleasantpiece of news. I have discovered Fitz Partington’s clew.

Fred.Indeed! I am rejoiced to hear it.

Mr. S.Yes. Mrs. Van Brugh told me on Tuesday that she had never actually seen her godfather’s will. So I felt it to be my duty to make an excuse for reading aloud that part of the will in which she is particularly described. I did so, and she fainted. Now, my dear Fred, what does this point to?

Fred.I should say bigamy.

Mr. S.You would say bigamy, and so should I. I suggested this to Fitz Partington, and he seemed amazed at my penetration. We laid our heads together, and, at his suggestion, I drew up this advertisement. (Hands MS. advertisement, which he has taken from table-drawer.)

Fred.(reads).£50 Reward. This sum will be paid for a true copy of the burial certificate of the first wife of the late Captain Van Brugh, R.N. She is known to have died at Melbourne within the last eight years.Are you sure Fitz Partington is acting straightforwardly with you?

Mr. S.Why should he do otherwise?

Fred.£50 is a large sum.

Mr. S.A large sum? If I can only establish the fact that the first Mrs. Van Brugh died within the last eight years, every penny of this so-called Mrs. Van Brugh’s income—£8,000 a year at least—reverts to me.

Fred.Then, dear me——

Mr. S.Eh?

Fred.Poor Eve will lose her settlement!

Mr. S.True; quite true. Dear me, I never thought of that. Poor Eve!

Fred.Poor, poor Eve!

EnterRuth.

Ruth.I’ve brought this note from my lady.

Mr. S.Oh! There may be an answer. Stay.

Ruth.(quietly). Yes; I’ll stay.

Mr. S.(reads note). Oh! Mrs. Van Brugh writes to say that she wishes to see me this afternoon—alone. (Sits down to write.)

Fred.Alone! Oh, then—then perhaps I’d better withdraw. (With affected emotion.)

Ruth.Ay, perhaps you better had.

(She follows him with her eyes as he goes to the door. He seems uneasy. Then exit.)

Mr. S.There is the answer. (Finishing note.)

Ruth.Smailey; wot’s wrong about my lady?

Mr. S.Wrong?

Ruth.Ay, there’s ruin comin’ to her, and she knows it. She’s been queer-like these two days. I’ve come upon her cryin’ odd times, and she’s as white as death. Wot is it, Smailey?

Mr. S.Probably a head-ache. I’m not a doctor.

Ruth.I am. It’s no head-ache—it’s heart-ache. It’s ruin.

Mr. S.Itisruin; to her wealth, and her good name.

Ruth.Her good name? Why,you’renever goin’ to meddle wi’that.

Mr. S.You are deceived in your mistress. (Rises.) I will tell you what she has been——

Ruth.Stop! I won’t hear it, Smailey, I won’t hear it. Let bygones go by: no odds what shehasbeen; think wot she is; think wotyou’vebeen. As I’ve dealt fair wi’ you, deal you fair wi’ her. Take wot’s yourn, but don’t take no more.

Mr. S.My rights and her good name are bound up together, I can not claim the one without destroying the other. I only want what the law will give me, if I commence proceedings.

Ruth.(changing her tone). If you commence proceedings, wot the law will give you is fourteen year, take my word for it. I’ve spoke fair, and no good’s come of it, so I’ll speak foul. Look here, Smailey, you’ve put a plot afoot to ruin my lady. Now my lady’s got a dog, Smailey, and that dog won’t stand no plots. Do you hear that, Smailey. Stir hand or foot to harm that pure and spotless creature, and sure as my lady’s dog has a set of fangs she’ll fix them in your throat.

Mr. S.This is hard. This is very hard. Even Mrs. Van Brugh would herself at once admit the justice of my claim.

Ruth.Well, wait till she does.

Mr. S.(after a pause). There is a good deal of sound common sense in what you say, Tredgett. Still, if—ifMrs. Van Brugh should at any timemake a statement ofher own free will, you will surely allow me to profit by it?

Ruth.Wotever my lady does of her own free will is angels’ doin’, and is right accordin’.

Mr. S.(aside). Then I think I see my way. (Aloud.) Well, Ruth, on that understanding you have my promise.

Ruth.Promise?Yourpromise? Smailey, don’t you meddle with things you don’t understand. Promises are ticklish goods inyourhands. They’re temptin’ things to break, and you was always easy tempted. No, no; don’tyoupromise.I’llpromise this time, Smailey.I’llpromise.[ExitRuth.

Mr. S.A sin, an early sin—a sin committed twenty years ago, brought up against me now that I am an honest man, and a regular church-goer! I am absolutely bound hand and foot by it—and to what end? For the protection of a woman who has committed Heaven knows what offense against morality. If this crime were to be proved against me, what on earth would become of me? For years I have endeavored to atone for my sin against society by treating wrong-doers brought before me with the strictest and most unflinching severity. Would Society be grateful for this—Would it even take heed of it? No; my atonement would go for nothing—absolutely nothing. Ah! this is a merciless world, and one in which penitence is taken no account of. But have a care, Mrs. Van Brugh, I’ll bide my time. You shall yetsee that a sin against morality is not to be wiped out by a few years of sentimental self-denial!

EnterEveandFred.

Fred.Father, I met Mrs. Van Brugh and my darling on their way here, so I turned back with them.

Mr. S.My dear Eve. (Kisses her. EnterMrs. Van Brugh.) Mrs. Van Brugh, I am very pleased to see you. Pray sit down. You look pale; I am afraid you are tired.

Mrs. V. B.No, I have not been very well lately.

Eve.Mamma wished to come alone, as she wants to speak to you on business, but I wouldn’t hear of that, as she is really very far from well, so I’ve brought her to you, Mr. Smailey; and now I’m going to take a turn in the garden with Fred. Dr. Athelney is waiting for us in the arbor.

Fred.If the arbor were a consecrated arbor, and I had a license in my pocket, we might take a turn—in the garden—that would surprise our dear friends.

Eve.What, without a wedding-dress and bridesmaids, and bouquets and presents, and a breakfast? My dear Fred, it wouldn’t be legal![ExeuntEveandFredinto the garden.

Mrs. V. B.(after a pause). Mr. Smailey, I come to you in great distress. On Tuesday last, a circumstance occurred, no matter what it was, that induced me to believe that there was a flaw—avital flaw—in my title to all I possess. Mr. Smailey, I haven’t a shilling in the world.

Mr. S.A shilling! My very dear lady, you haven’t a penny.

Mrs. V. B.What! Do you know this?

Mr. S.Mrs. Van Brugh, I will be candid with you. The Smaileys are a very, very old and very famous family. No suspicion of a bar sinister has ever shadowed their escutcheon. My son is betrothed to your daughter, and I have reason to believe that you are not entitled to the name you bear. Therefore, in his interests, and in those of his slumbering ancestors, I have taken steps to ascertain the truth.

Mrs. V. B.(much agitated). What do you hope to prove?

Mr. S.That when you went through the form of marriage with the late Captain Van Brugh you knew that his first wife was still alive.

Mrs. V. B.(wildly). No, no, no! Mr. Smailey, it is bad enough, but not so bad as that. Oh, Mr. Smailey, dismiss that fearful thought from your mind, and I will tell you the truth I came here to tell. It’s a bitter, bitter truth, but not so bad as you would make it out to be.

Mr. S.What is the truth? (Sternly.)

Mrs. V. B.I—I—when I met Captain Van Brugh—I was very young, and my mother was dead—and— (Bursts into tears and sobs wildly, laying her head on the table.)

Mr. S.What is the truth?

Mrs. V. B.Oh, man, man, can’t you read it in these tears? Is there not shame enough in my face, that you want it in shameful words. Read what you see before you, and as you are a man with a heart, keep my secret; oh, keep my unhappy secret!

Mr. S.What! am I to understand that you never even went through theformof marriage with Captain Van Brugh?

Mrs. V. B.(under her breath). Never!

Mr. S.(after a pause). I decline to believe you. I had hoped that it was barely possible you were the unconscious dupe of a reckless scamp. I now believe that you were well aware of the crime you were committing, and you take this step to avoid its legal consequences.

Mrs. V. B.(with forced calmness). Mr. Smailey, I have, perhaps, no right to be indignant at this insult; but you are mistaken—utterly mistaken. Have you no pity, no sympathy? See, every thing I possess is legally yours; I leave your presence penniless. Commence an action against me, and I will quietly yield up every thing before the case comes into court; but, if you love your son, spare me the shame, the intolerable shame, of a public exposure!

Mr. S.I will spare you nothing; neither will I take the step you suggest, nor any other step to dispossess you. In this matter I am passive; Ileave you to act as conscience may prompt you. But understand that I will be a party to no concealment, no subterfuge. On these terms, and on no other, will I consent to take this property.

Mrs. V. B.(wildly). What am I to do? I can not keep it, and I have no one to advise me!

Mr. S.I will advise you. You have sinned, and must make atonement. There are witnesses at hand, let them hear the truth: whatever the truth may be, let them hear it.

Mrs. V. B.What witnesses?

Mr. S.Dr. Athelney, my dear son, Ruth Tredgett, and your daughter.

Mrs. V. B.(wildly). No, no; not before Eve. You can not mean that I am to say this before Eve. Think, Mr. Smailey, what you are asking me to do. I am her mother!

Mr. S.I desire to press hardly on no fellow-creature, but it is meet that she should know the truth. Indeed, as a principle, truth can not be too widely known.

Mrs. V. B.But she knows nothing of this miserable matter. She believes, as others believe, that I was married abroad and that my husband died soon after.

Mr. S.A mother seeking to deceive her own child!

Mrs. V. B.Take every penny I possess, but for Eve’s sake spare me this intolerable shame. I will sign any deed you please that will convey my property to you, but leave me the love and honor of my darling child.

Mr. S.I decline to place myself in the invidious position of one who takes steps to dispossess a helpless lady; I also decline to be a party to any deception. If you refuse to make the public admission I require, you maykeepyour ill-gotten wealth.

Mrs. V. B.Keep it! Why I am here, of my own free will, to surrender into your hands my wealth, and with it my good name!

Mr. S.I feel it to be my duty to remind you that you have as little right to the one as to the other.

Mrs. V. B.What shall I do—What shall I do? If I refuse to publish my sin, this man will make it known to the whole world.

Mr. S.No; there you wrong me. That would be an unmanly act indeed, Miss Brandreth.

Mrs. V. B.Miss Brandreth!

Mr. S.That, I presume, is your name. Pardon me, but now that I know the truth, I could not conscientiously call you Mrs. Van Brugh. It would be a lie. For the future I shall call you Miss Brandreth, but—I shall systematically withhold my reasons for so doing.

Mrs. V. B.Mr. Smailey, think what you are compelling me to do. I have sinned, and for many years I have unceasingly endeavored to atone for that sin. Blessed with an ample fortune, I havedevoted four-fifths of it to the rescue of the unhappiest among unhappy women. In my search for them I have waded, year after year, through the foulest depths of misery and disgrace, with ears and eyes outraged at every turn. In the face of galling rebuke and insult unspeakable, in the face of cold ridicule and insolent misconstruction, I have held on to the task I set myself, and through the mercy of heaven—the infinite mercy of heaven—I have succeeded. I have no desire to speak of these things, and to no other man would I utter them. But you talk to me of atonement; and have I not atoned? Oh! have I not atoned?

Mr. S.See how the deeds and words of these last years show in the fierce light you have just thrown upon them. You have lost no opportunity of rebuking my hardness of heart because I can not pardon an act of immorality. See from what a foul and muddy source your own forgiveness springs. You have taunted me with my severity towards wrong-doers. See from what an interested motive your own leniency arises. You have publicly assailed my want of charity. Had I the control of another man’s income my charities might perhaps outvie your own. In one word, if you retain your social position, you are morally an impostor. If you retain my property, you are morally——

Mrs. V. B.(interrupting him). Enough! You have spoken, and I know you now. I can see through those cold hard eyes down into the cold hard heartfrom which they take their tone. I read there the stony creed, “A woman who has once fallen shall never rise again.” So let it be. You are strong—for you have the world on your side. I am weak—for I am alone. If I am to die this moral death, it shall be by my own hand. Theyshallhear the truth. (EveandFrederickhave appeared at the door; she turns and sees them; they are followed byDr. AthelneyandEdward.) Come here, Eve; come here, Dr. Athelney; all of you come here. (Evecomes forward and kneels at her mother’s feet.) Eve, my darling, my pet—Eve dear, kiss me. Kiss me again and again—my child, my child! Kiss me now, for you may never kiss me again. Dr. Athelney, you love me, I know. Edward, my dear old friend, listen while I tell you what manner of woman you have loved——

Ruth.(rushing forward). No, no, mistress, you mustn’t say it, don’t, don’t speak it; for the love of mercy don’t speak it. As I’m a sinful woman, it’ll be worse than death to me.

Mrs. V. B.I must go on to the end. Do you know on what kind of thing you have lavished the treasure of your love? You have lavished it on a fallen woman—an unhappy creature, who has committed that one sin for which on earth there is no atonement—no forgiveness. You think of me as Captain Brugh’s widow; God forgive me, I never was his wife!

(Ruthrecoils from her with an exclamation of horror.Evefalls senseless intoEdward’sarms.SmaileyandFrederickwatch the group from a corner of the stage.)

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