WATERFIELDpicks up the note, and exit.
Mat. (bursting into tears) Father! father! don't hate me; don't despise me.
THOMAStries to get up, but falls back.
Bill. Don't be in no hurry, Daddy. There's none but friends here now—'cep' the old lady;—she do look glum.
Sus. I'll soon settle her hash!
Mat. Susie! Susie! Don't—there's a dear!
Sus. What business has she here then! She's not a doin' of nothink.
Mat. Don't you see she's looking after the poor gentleman there?
Ger.William!—William!—Gone again! What a fellow he is! The best servant in the world, but always vanishing! Call your James—will you, aunt? We must have the old man put to bed. But the poor girl looks the worse of the two! She can have the spare room, and William can sleep on the sofa in mine.
Mrs. C.I'll see to it.
Exit. GER.goes towardsTHOMAS.
Tho.Coom whoam—coom whoam, Mattie! Thi mother, hoo's cryin' her eighes eawt to whoam.
Mat. I'll run for a doctor first, father.
Tho.No, no, chylt! Aw're only a bit stonned, like. Aw'll be o' reet in a smo' bit. Aw dunnot want no doctor. Aw'm a coomin' reawnd.
Ger.Neither of you shall stir to-night. Your rooms will be ready in a few minutes.
Mat. Thank you, sir! I don't know what I should have done with him.—Susan, you wouldn't mind going home without me? You know Miss Lacordère—
Ger.Miss Lacordère! What do you know of her?
Mat. Oh, dear! Oh, dear! I oughtn't to have mentioned her. But my poor head!—
Ger.What of Miss Lacordère? For God's sake, tell me.
EnterMRS. C.withJAMES.
Sus. Oh, nothing, sir! nothing at all! Only Miss Lacordère has been good to us—which it's more than can be said for everybody! (Scowls atMRS. C. JAMESproceeds to liftTHOMAS.She flies at him.) Put the old gentleman down, you sneakin' reptile! How many doors have you been a hearkenin' at since mornin'—eh, putty-lump? You touch the old man again, and I'll mark you! Here, Bill! I'll take his head—you take his feet. We'll carry him between us like a feather.
Mat. O Susan! do hold your tongue.
Sus. It's my only weapon, my dear. If I was a man—see if I'd talk then.
James. It's a providence you ain't a man, young woman!
Sus. Right you are! Them's my werry motives. I ain't a makin' of no complaint on that score, young Plush! I wouldn't be a man for—no, not for—not even for sich a pair o' calves as yourn!
SUS.andBILLcarryTHO.out. MAT.follows. GER.is goingafter them.
Mrs. C.Don't you go, Arthur. They can manage quite well. I will go if you like.
Ger.They know something about Constance.
Mrs. C.Pray give yourself no anxiety about her.
Ger.What do you mean, aunt?
Mrs. C.I will be responsible for her.
Ger.Where is she then? (ExitMRS. C.) William!—If he doesn't come in one minute more, I'll go after her myself. Those girls know where she is. I am as strong as a giant.—O God! All but married to that infamous fellow!—That he should ever have touched the tip of one of her fingers! What a sunrise of hope! Psyche may yet fold her wings to my prayer! William! William!—Wherecanthe fellow be?
EnterCOL. G.in uniform and star, leadingCONSTANCE.
Ger.(hurrying to meet them). Constance! Constance! forgive me. Oh my God! You will when you know all.
Col. G.She knows enough for that already, my boy, or she wouldn't be here. Take her—and me for her sake.
Ger.What! who—? Constance!—What does it all mean?—It must be—can it be—my father?—William—ItisWilliam!—William my father!—O father! father! (throwing his arms about him) itwasyou all the time then!
Col. G.My boy! my boy! There!—take Constance, and let me go. I did want to do something for you—but—There! I'm too much ashamed to look at you in my own person.
Ger.(kneeling). Father! father! don't talk like that! O father!myfather!
Col. G.(raising him). My boy! my boy! I wanted to do something for you—tried hard—and was foiled.—I doubly deserved it. I doubted as well as neglected you. But God is good. He has shamed me, and saved you.
Ger.By your hand, father.
Col. G.No—by his own. It would all have come right without me. I was unworthy of the honour, my boy. But I was allowed to try; and for that I am grateful.—Arthur, I come to you empty-handed—a beggar for your love.
Ger.How dare you say that, father?—Empty-handed—bringing me her and your-self—all I ever longed for!—my father and my Psyche! Father,thankyou. The poor word must do its best. I thank you with my very soul.—HowshallI bear my happiness!—Constance, it was my father all the time! Did you know it? Serving me like a slave!—humouring all my whims!—watching me night and day!—and then bringing me—
Con.Your own little girl, Arthur. But why did you not tell me?
Ger.Tell you what, darling?
Con.That—that—that you—Oh! you know what, Arthur!
Ger.How could I, my child, with that—!—Shall I tell you now?
Con.No, no! I am too happy to listen—even to you, Arthur! Butheshould never have—I did find him out at last. If I had but known you did not like him! (hiding her face.)
Ger.(embracing his father) Father! father! I cannot hold my happiness! And it isallyour doing!
Col. G. No, I tell you, my boy! I was but a straw on the tide of things. I will serve you yet though. I will be your father yet.
Bill(aside). Fathers ain'tallbad coves! Here's two on 'em—good sort of old Jacobs—both on 'em. Shouldn't mind much if I had a father o' my own arter all!
GERVAISEturns toCONSTANCE—then glances at the Psyche. COL.GERVAISEremoves the sheet. GERVAISEleadsCONSTANCEto thechair on the dais—turns from her to the Psyche, and begins to workon the clay, glancing from the one to the other—the next momentleaves the Psyche, and seats himself on the dais atCONSTANCE'Sfeet, looking up in her face.COL. GERVAISEstands regardingthem fixedly. Slow distant music.BILLis stealing away.Curtain falls.
THE END.