Madame Claude.
Oh, thank you, Lady Frederick. I look upon that as a real favour. And now I really must be getting off.
Lady Frederick.
Must you go? Well, good-bye. Paradine, take Madame Claude to her motor. Ada!
[She kisses her on the cheek.
Madame Claude.
[Going.] I am pleased to have seen you.
[Paradineoffers his arm and goes out withMadame Claude.Lady Frederickgoesto the window, stands on a chair and wavesher handkerchief. While she is doing thisCaptain Montgomerieenters.
Captain Montgomerie.
How d'you do?
Lady Frederick.
[Getting down.] How nice of you to come. I wanted to see you.
Captain Montgomerie.
May I sit down?
Lady Frederick.
Of course. There are one or two things I'd like to talk to you about.
Captain Montgomerie.
Yes?
Lady Frederick.
First I must thank you for your great kindness to Gerald. I didn't know last night that he owed you a good deal of money.
Captain Montgomerie.
It's a mere trifle.
Lady Frederick.
You must be very rich to call nine hundred pounds that?
Captain Montgomerie.
I am.
Lady Frederick.
[With a laugh.] All the same it's extremely good of you to give him plenty of time.
Captain Montgomerie.
I told Gerald he could have till to-morrow.
Lady Frederick.
Obviously he wants to settle with you as soon as ever he can.
Captain Montgomerie.
[Quietly.] I often wonder why gambling debts are known as debts of honour.
Lady Frederick.
[Looking at him steadily.] Of course I realise that if you choose to press for the money and Gerald can't pay—he'll have to send in his papers.
Captain Montgomerie.
[Lightly.] You may be quite sure I have no wish to bring about such a calamity. By the way, have you thought over our little talk of last night?
Lady Frederick.
No.
Captain Montgomerie.
You would have been wise to do so.
Lady Frederick.
My dear Captain Montgomerie, you really can't expect me to marry you because my brother has been so foolish as to lose more money at poker than he can afford.
Captain Montgomerie.
Did you ever hear that my father was a money-lender?
Lady Frederick.
A lucrative profession, I believe.
Captain Montgomerie.
He found it so. He was a Polish Jew called Aaron Levitzki. He came to this country with three shillings in his pocket. He lent half-a-crown of it to a friend on the condition that he should be paid back seven and six in three days.
Lady Frederick.
I'm not good at figures, but the interest sounds rather high.
Captain Montgomerie.
It is. That was one of my father's specialities. From these humble beginnings his business grew to such proportions that at his death he was able to leave me the name and arms of the great family of Montgomerie and something over a million of money.
Lady Frederick.
The result of thrift, industry, and good fortune.
Captain Montgomerie.
My father was able to gratify all his ambitions but one. He was eaten up with the desire to move in good society, and this he was never able to achieve. His dying wish was that I should live in those circles which he knew only....
Lady Frederick.
Across the counter?
Captain Montgomerie.
Precisely. But my poor father was a little ignorant in these matters. To him one lord was as good as another. He thought a Marquess a finer man than an Earl, and a Viscount than a Baron. He would never have understood that a penniless Irish baronet might go into better society than many a belted earl.
Lady Frederick.
And what is the application of this?
Captain Montgomerie.
I wanted to explain to you one of the reasons which emboldened me last night to make you a proposal of marriage.
Lady Frederick.
But surely you know some very nice people. I saw you lunching the other day with the widow of a city knight.
Captain Montgomerie.
Many very excellent persons are glad to have me to dine with them. But I know quite well that they're not the real article. I'm as far off as ever from getting into those houses which you have been used to all your life. I'm not content with third-rate earls and rather seedy dowagers.
Lady Frederick.
Forgive my frankness, but—aren't you rather a snob?
Captain Montgomerie.
My father, Aaron Levitzki, married an English woman, and I have all the English virtues.
Lady Frederick.
But I'm not quite sure that people would swallow you even as my husband.
Captain Montgomerie.
They'd make a face, but they'd swallow me right enough. And when I asked them down to the best shoot in England they'd come to the conclusion that I agreed with them very well.
Lady Frederick.
[Still rather amused.] Your offer is eminently businesslike, but you see I'm not a business woman. It doesn't appeal to me.
Captain Montgomerie.
I only ask you to perform such of the duties of a wife as are required by Society. They are few enough in all conscience. I should wish you to entertain largely and receive my guests, be polite to me, at least in public, and go with me to the various places people go to. Otherwise I leave you entire freedom. You will find me generous and heedful to all your wishes.
Lady Frederick.
Captain Montgomerie, I don't know how much of all that you have said is meant seriously. But, surely you're not choosing the right time to make such a proposal when my brother owes you so much money that if you care to be hard you can ruin him.
Captain Montgomerie.
Why not?
Lady Frederick.
D'you mean to say...?
Captain Montgomerie.
I will be quite frank with you. I should never have allowed Gerald to lose so much money which there was no likelihood of his being able to pay, if I had not thought it earned me some claim upon your gratitude.
Lady Frederick.
[Shortly.] Gerald will pay every penny he owes you to-morrow.
Captain Montgomerie.
[Blandly.] Where d'you suppose he'll get it?
Lady Frederick.
I have no doubt I shall be able to manage something.
Captain Montgomerie.
Have you not tried this morning, entirely without success?
Lady Frederick.
[Startled.] What?
Captain Montgomerie.
You do not forget that you have sundry moneys of your own which are payable to-morrow?
Lady Frederick.
How d'you know that?
Captain Montgomerie.
I told you that when I took a thing in hand I carried it through. You went to Dick Cohen, and he told you he'd parted with the bills. Didn't you guess that only one man could have the least interest in taking them over?
Lady Frederick.
You?
Captain Montgomerie.
Yes.
Lady Frederick.
Oh, God.
Captain Montgomerie.
Come, come, don't be worried over it. There's nothing to be alarmed about. I'm a very decent chap—if you'd accepted me right away you would never have known that those bills were in my possession. Think it over once more. I'm sure we should get on well together. I can give you what you most need, money and the liberty to fling it away as recklessly as you choose; you can give me the assured and fixed position on which—my father's heart was set.
Lady Frederick.
And if I don't accept, you'll make me a bankrupt and you'll ruin Gerald?
Captain Montgomerie.
I refuse to consider that very unpleasant alternative.
Lady Frederick.
Oh! I can't, I can't.
Captain Montgomerie.
[Laughing.] But you must, you must. When shall I come for your answer? To-morrow? I'll come with the bills and Gerald's I.O.U. in my pocket, and you shall burn them yourself. Good-bye.
[He kisses her hand and goes out.LadyFrederickremains staring in front ofher.Merestonenters, followed byLadyMerestonandParadine.
Mereston.
[Going to her eagerly.] Hulloa! I wondered what on earth had become of you.
Lady Frederick.
[With a laugh.] It's only two hours since I chased you away from me.
Mereston.
I'm afraid I bore you to death.
Lady Frederick.
Don't be so silly. You know you don't.
Mereston.
Where are you going now?
Lady Frederick.
I have rather a headache. I'm going to lie down.
Mereston.
I'm so sorry.
[Lady Frederickgoes out.Merestonstaresafter her anxiously, and makes a steptowards the door.
Lady Mereston.
[Sharply.] Where are you going, Charlie?
Mereston.
I never asked Lady Frederick if I could do anything.
Lady Mereston.
Good heavens, there are surely plenty of servants in the hotel to get her anything she wants.
Mereston.
Don't you think a drive in the motor would do her good?
Lady Mereston.
[Unable to control herself.] Oh, I have no patience with you. I never saw such a ridiculous infatuation in my life.
Paradine.
Steady, old girl, steady.
Mereston.
What on earth d'you mean, mother?
Lady Mereston.
Presumably you're not going to deny that you're in love with that woman.
Mereston.
[Growing pale.] Would you mind speaking of her as Lady Frederick?
Lady Mereston.
You try me very much, Charlie. Please answer my question.
Mereston.
I don't want to seem unkind to you, mother, but I think you have no right to ask about my private affairs.
Fouldes.
If you're going to talk this matter over you're more likely to come to an understanding if you both keep your tempers.
Mereston.
There's nothing I wish to discuss.
Lady Mereston.
Don't be absurd, Charlie. You're with Lady Frederick morning, noon and night. She can never stir a yard from the hotel but you go flying after. You pester her with your ridiculous attentions.
Fouldes.
[Blandly.] One's relations have always such an engaging frankness. Like a bad looking-glass, they always represent you with a crooked nose and a cast in your eye.
Lady Mereston.
[ToMereston.] I have certainly a right to know what you mean by all this and what is going to come of it.
Mereston.
I don't know what will come of it.
Fouldes.
The question that excites our curiosity is this: are you going to ask Lady Frederick to marry you?
Mereston.
I refuse to answer that. It seems to me excessively impertinent.
Fouldes.
Come, come, my boy, you're too young to play the heavy father. We're both your friends. Hadn't you better make a clean breast of it? After all, your mother and I are interested in nothing so much as your welfare.
Lady Mereston.
[Imploring.] Charlie!
Mereston.
Of course I'd ask her to marry me if I thought for a moment that she'd accept. But I'm so terrified that she'll refuse, and then perhaps I shall never see her again.
Lady Mereston.
The boy's stark, staring mad.
Mereston.
I don't know what I should do if she sent me about my business. I'd rather continue in this awful uncertainty than lose all hope for ever.
Fouldes.
By George. You're pretty far gone, my son. The lover who's diffident is in a much worse way than the lover who protests.
Lady Mereston.
[With a little laugh.] I must say it amuses me that Lady Frederick should have had both my brother and my son dangling at her skirts. Your respective passions are separated by quite a number of years.
Mereston.
Lady Frederick has already told me of that incident.
Fouldes.
With the usual indiscretion of her sex.
Mereston.
It appears that she was very unhappy and you, with questionable taste, made love to her.
Fouldes.
Do your best not to preach at me, dear boy. It reminds me of your lamented father.
Mereston.
And at last she promised to go away with you. You were to meet at Waterloo Station.
Fouldes.
Such a draughty place for an assignation.
Mereston.
Your train was to start at nine, and you were going to take the boat over to the Channel Isles.
Fouldes.
Lady Frederick has a very remarkable memory. I remember hoping the sea wouldn't be rough.
Mereston.
And just as the train was starting her eye fell on the clock. At that moment her child was coming down to breakfast and would ask for her. Before you could stop her she'd jumped out of the carriage. The train was moving, and you couldn't get out, so you were taken on to Weymouth—alone.
Lady Mereston.
You must have felt a quite egregious ass, Paradine.
Fouldes.
I did, but you need not rub it in.
Lady Mereston.
Doesn't it occur to you, Charlie, that a woman who loves so easily can't be very worthy of your affection?
Mereston.
But, my dear mother, d'you think she cared for my uncle?
Fouldes.
What the dickens d'you mean?
Mereston.
D'you suppose if she loved you she would have hesitated to come? D'you know her so little as that? She thought of her child only because she was quite indifferent to you.
Fouldes.
[Crossly.] You know nothing about it, and you're an impertinent young jackanapes.
Lady Mereston.
My dear Paradine, what can it matter if Lady Frederick was in love with you or not?
Fouldes.
[Calming down.] Of course it doesn't matter a bit.
Lady Mereston.
I have no doubt you mistook wounded vanity for a broken heart.
Fouldes.
[Acidly.] My dear, you sometimes say things which explain to me why my brother-in-law so frequently abandoned his own fireside for the platform of Exeter Hall.
Mereston.
It may also interest you to learn that I am perfectly aware of Lady Frederick's financial difficulties. I know she has two bills falling due to-morrow.
Fouldes.
She's a very clever woman.
Mereston.
I've implored her to let me lend her the money, and she absolutely refuses. You see, she's kept nothing from me at all.
Lady Mereston.
My dear Charlie, it's a very old dodge to confess what doesn't matter in order to conceal what does.
Mereston.
What do you mean, mother?
Lady Mereston.
Lady Frederick has told you nothing of the Bellingham affair?
Mereston.
Why should she?
Lady Mereston.
It is surely expedient you should know that the woman you have some idea of marrying escaped the divorce court only by the skin of her teeth.
Mereston.
I don't believe that, mother.
Fouldes.
Remember that you're talking to your respected parent, my boy.
Mereston.
I'm sorry that my mother should utter base and contemptible libels on—my greatest friend.
Lady Mereston.
You may be quite sure that I say nothing which I can't prove.
Mereston.
I won't listen to anything against Lady Frederick.
Lady Mereston.
But you must.
Mereston.
Are you quite indifferent to the great pain you cause me?
Lady Mereston.
I can't allow you to marry a woman who's hopelessly immoral.
Mereston.
Mother, how dare you say that?
Fouldes.
This isn't the sort of thing I much like, but hadn't you better hear the worst at once?
Mereston.
Very well. But if my mother insists on saying things, she must say them in Lady Frederick's presence.
Lady Mereston.
That I'm quite willing to do.
Mereston.
Good.
[He rings the bell. A servant enters.
Fouldes.
You'd better take care, Maudie. Lady Frederick's a dangerous woman to play the fool with.
Mereston.
[To the servant.] Go to Lady Frederick Berolles and say Lord Mereston is extremely sorry to trouble her ladyship, but would be very much obliged if she'd come to the drawing-room for two minutes.
Servant.
Very well, my lord.
[Exit.
Fouldes.
What are you going to do, Maud?
Lady Mereston.
I knew there was a letter in existence in Lady Frederick's handwriting which proved all I've said about her. I've moved heaven and earth to get hold of it, and it came this morning.
Fouldes.
Don't be such a fool. You're not going to use that?
Lady Mereston.
I am indeed.
Fouldes.
Your blood be upon your own head. Unless I'm vastly mistaken you'll suffer the greatest humiliation that you can imagine.
Lady Mereston.
That's absurd. I have nothing to fear.
Lady Frederick.comes in.
Mereston.
I'm so sorry to disturb you. I hope you don't mind?
Lady Frederick.
Not at all. I knew you wouldn't have sent for me in that fashion without good cause.
Mereston.
I'm afraid you'll think me dreadfully impertinent.
Lady Mereston.
Really you need not apologise so much, Charlie.
Mereston.
My mother has something to say against you, and I think it right that she should say it in your presence.
Lady Frederick.
That's very nice of you, Charlie—though I confess I prefer people to say horrid things of me only behind my back. Especially if they're true.
Fouldes.
Look here, I think all this is rather nonsense. We've most of us got something in our past history that we don't want raked up, and we'd all better let bygones be bygones.
Lady Frederick.
I'm waiting, Lady Mereston.
Lady Mereston.
It's merely that I thought my son should know that Lady Frederick had been the mistress of Roger Bellingham. [Lady Frederickturns quickly and looks at her;then bursts into a peal of laughter.Lady Merestonsprings up angrily and hands her a letter.] Is this in your handwriting?
Lady Frederick.
[Not at all disconcerted.] Dear me, how did you get hold of this?
Lady Mereston.
You see that I have ample proof, Lady Frederick.
Lady Frederick.
[Handing the letter toMereston.] Would you like to read it? You know my writing well enough to be able to answer Lady Mereston's question.
[He reads it through and looks at her in dismay.
Mereston.
Good God!... What does it mean?
Lady Frederick.
Pray read it aloud.
Mereston.
I can't.
Lady Frederick.
Then give it to me. [She takes it from him.] It's addressed to my brother-in-law, Peter Berolles. The Kate to whom it refers was his wife. [Reads.] Dear Peter: I'm sorry you should have had a row with Kate about Roger Bellingham. You are quite wrong in all you thought. There is absolutely nothing between them. I don't know where Kate was on Tuesday night, but certainly she was not within a hundred miles of Roger. This I know because....
Mereston.
[Interrupting.] For God's sake don't go on.
[Lady Fredericklooks at him and shrugs hershoulders.
Lady Frederick.
It's signed Elizabeth Berolles. And there's a postscript: You may make what use of this letter you like.
Mereston.
What does it mean? What does it mean?
Lady Mereston.
Surely it's very clear? You can't want a more explicit confession of guilt.
Lady Frederick.
I tried to make it as explicit as possible.
Lady Mereston.
Won't you say something? I'm sure there must be some explanation.
Lady Frederick.
I don't know how you got hold of this letter, Lady Mereston. I agree with you, it is compromising. But Kate and Peter are dead now, and there's nothing to prevent me from telling the truth.
[Paradine Fouldestakes a step forward andwatches her.
Lady Frederick.
My sister-in-law was a meek and mild little person, as demure as you can imagine, and no one would have suspected her for a moment of kicking over the traces. Well, one morning she came to me in floods of tears and confessed that she and Roger Bellingham [with a shrug] had been foolish. Her husband suspected that something was wrong and had kicked up a row.
Fouldes.
[Drily.] There are men who will make a scene on the smallest provocation.
Lady Frederick.
To shield herself she told the first lie that came into her head. She said to Peter that Roger Bellingham was my lover—and she threw herself on my mercy. She was a poor, weak little creature, and if there'd been a scandal she'd have gone to the dogs altogether. It had only been a momentary infatuation for Roger, and the scare had cured her. At the bottom of her heart she loved her husband still. I was desperately unhappy, and I didn't care much what became of me. She promised to turn over a new leaf and all that sort of thing. I thought I'd better give her another chance of going straight. I did what she wanted. I wrote that letter taking all the blame on myself, and Kate lived happily with her husband till she died.
Mereston.
It was just like you.
Lady Mereston.
But Lord and Lady Peter are dead?
Lady Frederick.
Yes.
Lady Mereston.
And Roger Bellingham?
Lady Frederick.
He's dead too.
Lady Mereston.
Then how can you prove your account of this affair?
Lady Frederick.
I can't.
Lady Mereston.
And does this convince you, Charlie?
Mereston.
Of course.
Lady Mereston.
[Impatiently.] Good heavens, the boy's out of his senses. Paradine, for Heaven's sake say something.
Fouldes.
Well, much as it may displease you, my dear, I'm afraid I agree with Charlie.
Lady Mereston.
You don't mean to say you believe this cock-and-bull story?
Fouldes.
I do.
Lady Mereston.
Why?
Fouldes.
Well, you see, Lady Frederick's a very clever woman. She would never have invented such an utterly improbable tale, which can't possibly be proved. If she'd been guilty, she'd have had ready at least a dozen proofs of her innocence.
Lady Mereston.
But that's absurd.
Fouldes.
Besides, I've known Lady Frederick a long time, and she has at least a thousand faults.
Lady Frederick.
[With flashing eyes.] Thanks.
Fouldes.
But there's something I will say for her. She's not a liar. If she tells me a thing, I don't hesitate for a moment to believe it.
Lady Frederick.
It's not a matter of the smallest importance if any of you believe me or not. Be so good as to ring, Charlie.
Mereston.
Certainly.
[He rings, and aServantimmediately comes in.
Lady Frederick.
Tell my servant that he's to come here at once and bring the despatch-box which is in my dressing-room.
Servant.
Yes, miladi.
[Exit.
Fouldes.
[Quickly.] I say, what are you going to do?
Lady Frederick.
That is absolutely no business of yours.
Fouldes.
Be a brick, Betsy, and don't give her those letters.
Lady Frederick.
I think I've had enough of this business. I'm proposing to finish with it.
Fouldes.
Temper, temper.
Lady Frederick.
[Stamping her foot.] Don't say temper to me, Paradine.
[She walks up and down angrily.Paradinesits at the piano and with one finger strums"Rule Britannia."
Mereston.
Shut up.
[He takes a book, flings it at his head andmisses.
Fouldes.
Good shot, sir.
Lady Frederick.
I often wonder how you got your reputation for wit, Paradine.
Fouldes.
By making a point of laughing heartily at other people's jokes.
[TheFootmanenters with the despatch-box,whichLady Frederickopens. She takesa bundle of letters from it.
Fouldes.
Betsy, Betsy, for heaven's sake don't! Have mercy.
Lady Frederick.
Was mercy shown to me? Albert!
Footman.
Yes, miladi.
Lady Frederick.
You'll go to the proprietor of the hotel and tell him that I propose to leave Monte Carlo to-morrow.
Mereston.
[Aghast.] Are you going?
Footman.
Very well, my lady.
Lady Frederick.
Have you a good memory for faces?
Footman.
Yes, my lady.
Lady Frederick.
You're not likely to forget Lord Mereston?
Footman.
No, my lady.
Lady Frederick.
Then please take note that if his lordship calls upon me in London I'm not at home.
Mereston.
Lady Frederick!
Lady Frederick.
[ToFootman.] Go.
[ExitFootman.
Mereston.
What d'you mean? What have I done?
[Without answeringLady Fredericktakesthe letters.Paradineis watching heranxiously. She goes up to the stove andthrows them in one by one.
Lady Mereston.
What on earth is she doing?
Lady Frederick.
I have some letters here which would ruin the happiness of a very worthless woman I know. I'm burning them so that I may never have the temptation to use them.
Fouldes.
I never saw anything so melodramatic.
Lady Frederick.
Hold your tongue, Paradine. [Turning toMereston.] My dear Charlie, I came to Monte Carlo to be amused. Your mother has persecuted me incessantly. Your uncle—is too well-bred to talk to his servants as he has talked to me. I've been pestered in one way and another, and insulted till my blood boiled, because apparently they're afraid you may want to marry me. I'm sick and tired of it. I'm not used to treatment of this sort; my patience is quite exhausted. And since you are the cause of the whole thing I have an obvious remedy. I would much rather not have anything more to do with you. If we meet one another in the street you need not trouble to look my way because I shall cut you dead.
Lady Mereston.
[In an undertone.] Thank God for that.
Mereston.
Mother, mother. [ToLady Frederick.] I'm awfully sorry. I feel that you have a right to be angry. For all that you've suffered I beg your pardon most humbly. My mother has said and done things which I regret to say are quite unjustifiable.
Lady Mereston.
Charlie!
Mereston.
On her behalf and on mine I apologise with all my heart.
Lady Frederick.
[Smiling.] Don't take it too seriously. It really doesn't matter. But I think it's far wiser that we shouldn't see one another again.
Mereston.
But I can't live without you.
Lady Mereston.
[With a gasp.] Ah!
Mereston.
Don't you know that my whole happiness is wrapped up in you? I love you with all my heart and soul. I can never love any one but you.
Fouldes.
[ToLady Mereston.] Now you've done it. You've done it very neatly.
Mereston.
Don't think me a presumptuous fool. I've been wanting to say this ever since I knew you, but I haven't dared. You're brilliant and charming and fascinating, but I have nothing whatever to offer you.
Lady Frederick.
[Gently.] My dear Charlie.
Mereston.
But if you can overlook my faults, I daresay you could make something of me. Won't you marry me? I should look upon it as a great honour, and I would love you always to the end of my life. I'd try to be worthy of my great happiness and you.
Lady Frederick.
You're very much too modest, Charlie. I'm enormously flattered and grateful. You must give me time to think it over.
Lady Mereston.
Time?
Mereston.
But I can't wait. Don't you see how I love you? You'll never meet any one who'll care for you as I do.
Lady Frederick.
I think you can wait a little. Come and see me to-morrow morning at ten, and I'll give you an answer.
Mereston.
Very well, if I must.
Lady Frederick.
[Smiling.] I'm afraid so.
Fouldes.
[ToLady Frederick.] I wonder what the deuce your little game is now.
[She smiles triumphantly and gives him a deep,ironical curtsey.
Lady Frederick.
Sir, your much obliged and very obedient, humble servant.
END OF THE SECOND ACT.
Scene:Lady Frederick'sdressing-room. At the back is a large opening, curtained, which leads to the bedroom; on the right a door leading to the passage; on the left a window. In front of the window, of which the blind is drawn, is a dressing-table.Lady Frederick'smaid is in the room, a very neat pretty Frenchwoman. She speaks with a slight accent. She rings the bell, and theFootmanenters.
Maid.
As soon as Lord Mereston arrives he is to be shown in.
Footman.
[Surprised.] Here?
Maid.
Where else?
[TheFootmanwinks significantly. TheMaiddraws herself up with dignity, and with adramatic gesture points to the door.
Maid.
Depart.
[TheFootmangoes out.
Lady Frederick.
[From the bedroom.] Have you drawn the blind, Angélique?
Maid.
I will do so, miladi. [She draws the blind, and the light falls brightly on the dressing-table.] But miladi will never be able to stand it. [She looks at herself in the glass.] Oh, the light of the sun in the morning! I cannot look at myself.
Lady Frederick.
[As before.] There's no reason that you should—especially in my glass.
Maid.
But if 'is lordship is coming, miladi must let me draw the blind. Oh, it is impossible.
Lady Frederick.
Do as you're told and don't interfere.
[TheFootmanenters to announceMereston.TheMaidgoes out.
Footman.
Lord Mereston.
Lady Frederick.
[As before.] Is that you, Charlie? You're very punctual.
Mereston.
I've been walking about outside till the clock struck.
Lady Frederick.
I'm not nearly dressed, you know. I've only just had my bath.
Mereston.
Must I go?
Lady Frederick.
No, of course not. You can talk to me while I'm finishing.
Mereston.
All right. How are you this morning?
Lady Frederick.
I don't know. I haven't looked at myself in the glass yet. How are you?
Mereston.
A 1, thanks.
Lady Frederick.
Are you looking nice?
Mereston.
[Going to the glass.] I hope so. By Jove, what a strong light. You must be pretty sure of your complexion to be able to stand that.
Lady Frederick.
[Appearing.] I am.
Mereston.
[Going forward eagerly.] Ah.
[She comes through the curtains. She wears akimono, her hair is all dishevelled, hangingabout her head in a tangled mop. She isnot made up and looks haggard and yellowand lined. WhenMerestonsees her hegives a slight start of surprise. She playsthe scene throughout with her broadestbrogue.
Lady Frederick.
Good-morning.
Mereston.
[Staring at her in dismay.] Good-morning.
Lady Frederick.
Well, what have you to say to me?
Mereston.
[Embarrassed.] I—er—hope you slept all right.
Lady Frederick.
[Laughing.] Did you?
Mereston.
I forget.
Lady Frederick.
I believe you slept like a top, Charlie. You really might have lain awake and thought of me. What is the matter? You look as if you'd seen a ghost.
Mereston.
Oh no, not at all.
Lady Frederick.
You're not disappointed already?
Mereston.
No, of course not. Only—you look so different with your hair not done.
Lady Frederick.
[With a little cry.] Oh, I'd forgotten all about it. Angélique, come and do my hair.
Maid.
[Appearing.] Yes, miladi.
[Lady Fredericksits down at the dressing-table.
Lady Frederick.
Now, take pains, Angélique. I want to look my very best. Angélique is a jewel of incalculable value.
Maid.
Miladi is very kind.
Lady Frederick.
If I'm light-hearted, she does it one way. If I'm depressed she does it another.
Maid.
Oh, miladi, the perruquier who taught me said always that a good hairdresser could express every mood and every passion of the human heart.
Lady Frederick.
Good heavens, you don't mean to say you can do all that?
Maid.
Miladi, he said I was his best pupil.
Lady Frederick.
Very well. Express—express a great crisis in my affairs.
Maid.
That is the easiest thing in the world, miladi. I bring the hair rather low on the forehead, and that expresses a crisis in her ladyship's affairs.
Lady Frederick.
But I always wear my hair low on the forehead.
Maid.
Then it is plain her ladyship's affairs are always in a critical condition.
Lady Frederick.
So they are. I never thought of that.
Mereston.
You've got awfully stunning hair, Lady Frederick.
Lady Frederick.
D'you like it, really?
Mereston.
The colour's perfectly beautiful.
Lady Frederick.
It ought to be. It's frightfully expensive.
Mereston.
You don't mean to say it's dyed?
Lady Frederick.
Oh, no. Only touched up. That's quite a different thing.
Mereston.
Is it?
Lady Frederick.
It's like superstition, you know, which is what other people believe. My friends dye their hair, but I only touch mine up. Unfortunately, it costs just as much.
Mereston.
And you have such a lot.
Lady Frederick.
Oh, heaps. [She opens a drawer and takes out a long switch.] Give him a bit to look at.
Maid.
Yes, miladi.
[She gives it to him.
Mereston.
Er—yes. [Not knowing what on earth to say.] How silky it is.
Lady Frederick.
A poor thing, but mine own. At least, I paid for it. By the way, have I paid for it yet, Angélique?
Maid.
Not yet, miladi. But the man can wait.
Lady Frederick.
[Taking it fromMereston.] A poor thing, then, but my hairdresser's. Shall I put it on?
Mereston.
I wouldn't, if I were you.
Maid.
If her ladyship anticipates a tragic situation, I would venture to recommend it. A really pathetic scene is impossible without a quantity of hair worn quite high on the head.
Lady Frederick.
Oh, I know. Whenever I want to soften the hard heart of a creditor I clap on every bit I've got. But I don't think I will to-day. I'll tell you what, a temple curl would just fit the case.
Maid.
Then her ladyship inclines to comedy. Very well, I say no more.
[Lady Fredericktakes two temple-curls fromthe drawer.
Lady Frederick.
Aren't they dears?
Mereston.
Yes.
Lady Frederick.
You've admired them very often, Charlie, haven't you? I suppose you never knew they cost a guinea each?
Mereston.
It never occurred to me they were false.
Lady Frederick.
The masculine intelligence is so gross. Didn't your mother tell you?
Mereston.
My mother told me a great deal.
Lady Frederick.
I expect she overdid it. There. Now that's done. D'you think it looks nice?
Mereston.
Charming.
Lady Frederick.
Angélique, his lordship is satisfied. You may disappear.
Maid.
Yes, miladi.
[She goes.
Lady Frederick.
Now, tell me you think I'm the most ravishing creature you ever saw in your life.
Mereston.
I've told you that so often.
Lady Frederick.
[Stretching out her hands.] You are a nice boy. It was charming of you to say—what you did yesterday. I could have hugged you there and then.
Mereston.
Could you?
Lady Frederick.
Oh, my dear, don't be so cold.
Mereston.
I'm very sorry, I didn't mean to be.
Lady Frederick.
Haven't you got anything nice to say to me at all?
Mereston.
I don't know what I can say that I've not said a thousand times already.
Lady Frederick.
Tell me what you thought of all night when you tossed on that sleepless pillow of yours.
Mereston.
I was awfully anxious to see you again.
Lady Frederick.
Didn't you have a dreadful fear that I shouldn't be as nice as you imagined? Now, come—honestly.
Mereston.
Well, yes, I suppose it crossed my mind.
Lady Frederick.
And am I?
Mereston.
Of course.
Lady Frederick.
You're sure you're not disappointed?
Mereston.
Quite sure.
Lady Frederick.
What a relief! You know, I've been tormenting myself dreadfully. I said to myself: "He'll go on thinking of me till he imagines I'm the most beautiful woman in the world, and then, when he comes here and sees the plain reality, it'll be an awful blow."
Mereston.
What nonsense! How could you think anything of the kind?
Lady Frederick.
Are you aware that you haven't shown the least desire to kiss me yet?
Mereston.
I thought—I thought you might not like it.
Lady Frederick.
It'll be too late in a minute.
Mereston.
Why?
Lady Frederick.
Because I'm just going to make up, you silly boy.
Mereston.
How? I don't understand.
Lady Frederick.
You said I must be very sure of my complexion. Of course I am. Here it is.
[She runs her fingers over a row of little potsand vases.
Mereston.
Oh, I see. I beg your pardon.
Lady Frederick.
You don't mean to say you thought it natural?
Mereston.
It never occurred to me it might be anything else.
Lady Frederick.
It's really too disheartening. I spend an hour every day of my life making the best complexion in Monte Carlo, and you think it's natural. Why, I might as well be a dairymaid of eighteen.
Mereston.