Lily.
Oh, if I’d suspected that a private detective was hovering around, I’d have kept the whole lot of my friends! As it was, Jimmie was looking dead, and—!in disdain.Pah!
There is a pause and thenJeyessits upright and draws his hand wearily across his eyes.
Jeyes.
ToLily.Well, I—I beg your pardon.Lilycontinues to spray herself energetically.I’m not so completelyscumas not to see that I ought to beg your pardon.Humbly.I beg your pardon.
Lily.
Softening by degrees.You—you drive me mad sometimes—positively frantic!
Jeyes.
Partly to himself.Mad!ToFarncombe.And you, Farncombe—I hope you’ll accept my apologies. I offer them unreservedly.
Farncombebows, somewhat stiffly.
Lily.
ToJeyes, protruding her lower lip.I—I didn’t mean half I said, Nicko; I didn’t mean half of it.EyeingFarncombeaskance as she replaces the atomizer.And I—I’m ashamed of myself for losing my self-control as I did.There is another pause and thenJeyesgets to his feet and silently returns the note toLily. She looks up at him piteously and puts the note back into herbosom. Then he takes out his key-ring, removes the latch key from it, and throws the key on to the table. Having done this, he drags his cap from his pocket and makes for the door on the left. As he passesLily, she rises and gently plucks at his sleeve.Nicko—Nicko——
Jeyes.
In a thick voice.Eh?
Lily.
Won’t you—won’t you give Lord Farncombe—some explanation——?
Jeyes.
Explanation——?
Lily.
Of the sort of terms we’ve been on, you and I, He—he must be—rather puzzled—turning away to the table.Oh, it’s due to you as well as to me!
Jeyes.
Dully.Just as you please.With a hard laugh.Ho, ho! Yes, perhaps itisdue to me that he should learn a little more about me than he’s been able to gather from personal observation—and from your eloquent but summary description.Under his breath, screwing up his cap.Idler—waster—loafer——!
Lily.
Penitently.Nicko!
Jeyes.
ToFarncombe, quietly.Oh, it’s a true bill, Farncombe. And yet, a very few years back—shewon’tdispute it—I was one of the smartest chaps going, good at my job, with prospects as rosy as any man’s in my regiment. There wasn’t a cloud the size of your hand, apparently, in my particular bit of sky at the time I speak of; not a speck! Then I met this young lady, and—pointing to the box-ottomanwell, since we’re in for it——!
Farncombe.
Oh, Captain Jeyes——
Jeyes.
No, no; she wishes you to understand the exact nature of the friendship between her and me. I’m obeying instructions.Farncombesits on the ottoman, nursing his hat and overcoat. ThenJeyessits in the arm-chair by the centre table, first turning the chair so that it facesFarncombe.Farncombe, I was under thirty, and still a subaltern, when I made Miss Parradell’s acquaintance. Like most of my pals, I was spending my nights, whenever I could get away from Aldershot, in the stalls at the Pandora—much the same asyou’vebeen doing recently, and as a certain class of young man’ll go on doing as long as the Pandora, and similar shops, continue to flourish. Ha! How honoured we felt, we men, in those days, at knowing some of the Pandora girls, and having the privilege of supping ’em and standing ’em dinner on Sunday evenings! If they’d been royal princesses we couldn’t have been more elated.With a gesture.Don’t jump at conclusions. It generally ended there, or with our running into debt at a jeweller’s.Wewere young,theywere beautiful—or we thought ’emso; but the majority of us weren’t vicious, any more than the majority of the girls were—though many of ’em were mighty calculating. It would have been better for us men if all the girlshadbeen wicked; the glamour, the infatuation, the folly, would have been sooner over, and one of us at least would have had a different tale to tell.
Jeyespauses, gazing at the floor,Farncombemoves impatiently on the ottoman andLilyseats herself upon the settee.
Lily.
Plaintively.Nicko—Nicko—I merely wanted you to——
Jeyes.
Rousing himself and speaking toLilyover his shoulder.Who was it introduced us?
Lily.
Miss Du Cane—Aggie Du Cane.
Jeyes.
Agnes Du Cane.She’sgone under.ToLily.Outside Buckley’s oyster-bar, wasn’t it?
Lily.
Not outside; in the parlour.
Jeyes.
ToFarncombe.Lily had only lately come to the Pandora—a pale-faced slip of a thing.ToLily.Eighteen, weren’t you?
Lily.
Nodding.Eighteen.
Jeyes.
I confess I wasn’t overwhelmingly attracted by her at first; she was so unlike the rest.Laughing bitterly.Ha, ha, ha!
Lily.
Weakly.Ha, ha, ha! Wasn’t I dowdy!
Jeyes.
But she was humble, and naïve, and confiding; and my vanity was tickled by her delight at the little treats I gave her, and by her gratitude for a tuppeny-ha’penny present or two. Nobody, I believe, with any pretensions to being a gentleman, had paid her much attention before I arrived on the scene.
Lily.
In a murmur.No; nobody.
Jeyes.
I didn’t find out that I was in love with her—you guess it’s a love story, don’t you?——
Farncombe.
Delicately.My dear Captain Jeyes——
Jeyes.
I didn’t find out that I was neck and heels in love with her until nearly a year afterwards, when my regiment went to the Curragh.Thatdid it—separation! What I suffered in that hole, thinking of her, starving for her! In less than three months I was in London again, on leave, and in my old stall at thePandora. But even then, Farncombe, I hadn’t your pluck.
Farncombe.
Pluck?
Jeyes.
The pluck to snap my fingers at the world and propose marriage to a Pandora girl. Besides, my mother was alive then, and—abruptly, with a wild lookwould you like to know whatsheused to call these Pandora women, Farncombe?Bending forward, his hands tightly clenched.She used to call thema menace to society. With their beauty, and their flagrant opportunities for displaying it, they are a living curse, she used to say—a source of constant dread to mothers whose hope it is to see their sons safely mated to modest, maidenly girls of the typical English pattern. She told us once—my brothers and me—frightened as to wherewewere drifting, that she was one of many mothers who prayed on their knees daily that their boys might be spared from being drawn into the net woven by their own weaknesses and passions—drawn into it by these—these——!He breaks off, stares about him for a moment, and then rises.Oh, but I oughtn’t to have repeated this toyou. Pardon.Walking away unsteadily.Ho, damned bad taste!Behind the table, supporting himself by leaning upon it.Where was I? Back from the Curragh!Confused.Yes—yes—and so things went on for a couple o’ years—I trailing after Lily closer than ever—and at last—at last Ididask her to be my wife.
Lily.
Who has been listening toJeyeswith parted lipsand wide-open eyes—appealingly.Don’t! Don’t, Nicko; don’t!
Jeyes.
Oblivious of her interruption.But I’d left it too late. The novelty of me had worn off; she’d scores of friends by that time; she’d made her big hit, and followed it with another, and was the talk o’ the town. And she’d money; she wasn’t dependent onmeany longer for her gloves and her trips and outings!
Lily.
Her head drooping.Oh! Oh!Wringing her hands.Oh, that’sbeastlyof you;beastly!
Jeyes.
She was kind to me too, in a way—kind and cruel. She didn’t want to marry me; she didn’t want to marry anybody; she was in love with herself, and her success, and what it was bringing her. But she wouldn’t give me the kick. No, she wouldn’t do that; Ihadbeen something to her. And there’s where the kindness came in—and the merciless cruelty.Sitting upon the fauteuil-stool rigidly.God, if only she’d broken with me then, firmly and finally—if only she’d broken with me then—she—she might have saved me!
Lily.
Struggling with her tears.Oh, Nicko, Nicko!
Jeyes.
Twelve months ago she did throw me a bone. The regiment was under orders for India, and ofcourse I sent in my papers; and out of pity, I suppose—and because I was always pestering her—she promised to become engaged to me if I’d get other work to do. Work! I wonder whether really she was grinning to herself when she made the stipulation!
Lily.
Oh—oh——!
Jeyes.
Work! All the spunk, all the energy, had been sapped out of me long before, and even her promise couldn’t revive it. My search for a berth wasn’t much more than a sham. At the back of my head I knew very well what I’d come to. The only workIwas capable of was dancing attendance onher, and filling in what remained of the day and night at a rotten restaurant, a Bohemian club, and the bar of the theatre. And that’sbeenmy sole employment for the past year—nothing but that. Pretty, for a man who started life as swimmingly as I did!His voice dying away.Pretty—pretty—pretty—pretty——!
Lily.
After a profound stillness.I—I don’t think you’ve ever—put the case to me—quite so plainly as this, Nicko.
Jeyes.
I—I don’t think I’ve ever put it quite so plainly—to myself.
Lily.
Her lip trembling.You—you won’t believe me——
Jeyes.
What?
Lily.
I—I’ve never fully realised it till now—the harm I’ve done you. I declare to God I’ve never realised it till now.Faintly.Nicko——!
Jeyes.
After a further pause.Ah, well—!With a deep sigh.Ah, well!ToFarncombe, resignedly.Farncombe, I—I’m afraid I’m a shocking brute. I—I got carried away. Forget—forget the things I’ve said of this girl. Forget ’em, will yer?Starting to his feet.And look here! A man who isn’t a sportsman deserves to be shot. You’ve won her; I’ve lost her. Congratulate yer, old chap; congratulate yer!Pulling on his cap.Take care of her, that’s all; m-m-mind you take care of her!
He turns towards the door and she jumps up and runs to him and seizes his arm.Farncombealso rises.
Lily.
No, no, Nicko! Nicko—!GivingFarncombea half frightened, half imploring look.Nicko, I can’t undo the mischief I’ve done; I can’t do that. But I can try to make it up to you—some of it—and I will, if you’ll let me.Putting her arms round his shoulders.Nicko——!
Jeyes.
Roughly.Make it—up to me?
Lily.
Her face close to his.You know what I mean! As soon as possible—next month, if you like—next week—quietly—!He grips her arms and stares at her blankly.Ha, ha! Yes, you’ve been in too great a hurry to settle matters,youhave. Lord Farncombe and I—we—we’renot going to be married. I’ve refused him.Wildly.I—I’ve ruinedyou, Nicko; but I—I’ve told him—I’m not going to drawhiminto my net!Clinging toJeyesand burying her face in the breast of his coat, crying.Oh! Oh! Oh! I’m not going to drawhiminto my net!
Again there is a pause and thenJeyesturns toFarncombe, dazed.
Jeyes.
Farncombe——?
Farncombe.
Inclining his head.Yes—yes——
Jeyes.
With feeling.My dear fellow, I—I——!
Lily.
Raising her head and speaking through her tears—toJeyes.Nicko, I—I want to have one more word with Lord Farncombe—just one more word.He nods understandingly and goes to the door on the left. She follows him.Only a minute;he opens the doorandthen you must walk away together, you and he, and part good friends.He goes out on to the landing and she closes the door and stands with her back to it, drying her eyes with her handkerchief.Farncombe, still carrying his hat and overcoat, has crossed to the settee, a forlorn figure.W-w-well, you—youhavehad a lucky escape, haven’t you?
Farncombe.
Heavily.Escape?
Lily.
Leaving the door and advancing.You—you’ve heard what a cold-blooded, selfish wretch I am—how I’ve treated Nicko!
Farncombe.
Waving the idea away.Oh——!
Lily.
Coming to him.And you’ve seen what I’m like when I’m in a rage; you’ve seen what the genuine Lily Margaret Upjohn is, without her disguise.Looking up into his face pathetically.Yes, that wasme, Eddie, under the crust. Common as dirt, dear; common as dirt!Holding the lapels of his coat.Oh! Oh, you’ll always remember me, with my eyes starting out of my head, spitting at Nicko! You’ll always picture that horrible sight when you think of me.
Farncombe.
You—you were provoked; I—I admired you for it.
Lily.
Tenderly.Ah, you dear boy!In an altered tone.Eddie——
Farncombe.
Yes?
Lily.
Had you—a little hope—that, after all, I might turn your offer over in my mind and—and eventually——?
Farncombe.
Yes—yes.
Lily.
With a catch in her breath.Ah——!In a whisper.I—I’ll tell you something.
Farncombe.
What?
Lily.
In his ear.Imighthave, if—if you’d persisted.
Farncombe.
Groaning.Oh-h-h-h!
Lily.
Retreating a step or two.Thank God Nicko came along! Thank God Nicko came along!Whatwas it his mother called us girls? A menace to society; creatures to be dreaded, and prayed against! You see I was right in wishing to protect you for your mammy’s sake as well as your own. But, oh—thank God Nicko came along!He sits suddenly upon thesettee and covers his face with his hands. She returns to him quickly.Ah, don’t do that; don’t do that!Touching his hands.Eddie! Eddie! I’m not worth it. Eddie!With an effort, he lifts his head.Listen.Thisis what I want to say to you. Don’t come near me any more; you mustn’t. And don’t come to the theatre again either. If I thought you were sitting in front, I—I’m sure I couldn’t——!Entreatingly.Swear—swear you’ll keep away from me, and from the theatre!He nods.And you’ll never go to any supper or dinner or dance where you’re likely to meet the other girls, will you? Eddie!He shakes his head.Swear!He rises and, as he does so, she grips the lapels of his coat again, her eyes blazing fiercely.Oh! Oh! If one of the other girls ever got hold of you, I—I—hissing into his faceI’d kill her!She leaves him and goes to the door on the left and opens it.Nicko!Jeyesenters the room.March, both of you!Exhausted.I—I’m pretty well baked.FarncombejoinsLilyandJeyesat the door and she stands between the two men looking from one to the other and taking a hand of each.Ha, ha, ha! I’ve made thepairof you precious miserable, if you only knew it.ToJeyes.The difference is thathe’llsoon forget me, andyou, withmefor a wife, are doomed for life.Putting her hands uponJeyes’ shoulders.Nicko——!She kisses him lightly and, having done so, asks him a question with her eyes.Jeyesturns aside and she facesFarncombeand offers him her lips. They kiss.Good-bye.After a moment’s pause, to both of them.Away with you!The two men go out and she follows them to the top of the stairs and watches them descend. Then she slowly comes back into the room and stands listening at the door. There is a distant sound.Ah!Partly closingthe door, she wanders about the room aimlessly for a while. Then, impulsively, she runs to the further window, lifts the sash, and looks below.Ah!... Ah!...Drawing back.Ah-h-h-h——!
She shuts the window and comes to the settee and, sitting there, takes off her shoes. Then she goes down upon the floor inelegantly, hunts for her slippers, and puts them on. As she rises, the door on the left is pushed open andMrs. Upjohnpeeps in cautiously.
Mrs. Upjohn.
In a dressing-gown and with her hair, now very scanty, tightly screwed up.Lil——?
Lily.
Stiffening herself and speaking in a cold, level voice.Oh, I was just coming up to you, mother, to get you to undo me.
Mrs. Upjohn.
Bustling toLily.I didn’t mean to, but I fell off.UnhookingLily’sdress.Itwasthe front-door I ’eard a minute ago, then? It gave me sech a start.In difficulties with the hooks.Turn more to the light, dearie. These dressmakers do it a’ purpose, I b’lieve. The ’ooks on that noo gown o’ mine are a perfect myst’ry. Wot’sthis?
Lily.
Twisting her body.Oh, don’t fiddle so, mother!
Mrs. Upjohn.
Youdidlet ’im stay a time, Lil. ’Eaps to talk over, eh?
Lily.
Stonily.Heaps.Trying to assistMrs. Upjohn.Oh——!
Mrs. Upjohn.
Well, dear; well, well! Tell me wot’s took place. Don’t keep me in suspense.
Lily.
I shan’t tell you anything, mother, till I’ve had a sleep. I must go through the sheets first.Stamping her foot.Oh, tear the thing; tear it!
Mrs. Upjohn.
’Ave you consented to make ’im ’appy, poor young gentleman? That’s all I want to know, Lil.Overcoming a hook.There!
Lily.
Thank you, mother.Slipping her arms out of her dress.I can manage the rest.
Mrs. Upjohn.
But, Lil, dearie——!
Lily.
Oh, for mercy’s sake, leave me alone!Violently.Why can’t you leave me alone!
Mrs. Upjohn.
Ho! Very good!Moving away indignantly asLily, with shaking fingers, unfastens a necklace.Thisis my reward for layin’ awake ’alf the night, is it, an’ for thinkin’ of you, an’ wonderin’ about you!Ungrateful little puss, you!Going towards the door.After this, you can keep your affairs to yourself for as long as ever you choose. Don’t you expectme——!
Lily.
Suddenly, sitting upon the settee.Mother——!
Mrs. Upjohn.
Sharply.Yes?
Lily.
Her hand to her brow.Oh, mother——!
Mrs. Upjohn.
Hurrying toLily.Wot is it?
Lily.
Swaying.At last—at last——!
Mrs. Upjohn.
At last——?
Lily.
Clinging toMrs. Upjohn.I’m in love, mother—I’m in love—in love—in love——!
The scene is the same as in the preceding act, but the light outside is brighter and warmer and in the room is more diffused. On the table in the centre, placed close to the settee, there is a small tray with a breakfast of tea and toast upon it. The bedroom door is partly open.
Lily, wan and red-eyed, is lying, propped up by cushions, upon the settee. A newspaper is on her lap but she is gazing at vacancy. She is innégligé. A dainty morning-robe covers her night-gown, her bare feet are in slippers, and her hair is in a simple knot.Maudis at one of the drawers of the cupboard at the back, engaged in selecting some articles oflingerie, andMrs. Upjohn, completely dressed for the day, is sitting in the arm-chair by the centre table, her face hidden by a newspaper which she is reading. PresentlyMaudshuts the drawer and, carrying thelingerie, comes forward.
Maud.
ToLily.What frock’ll you put on?
Lily.
Starting slightly.Eh?
Maud.
One of your embroidered muslins, or your Ninon?
Lily.
Languidly.Either;Idon’t care.
Maud.
Oh, gracious, what on earthisthe matter with you this morning! I’ve never known you as queer as this after any hop you’ve been to inmytime.ToMrs. Upjohn, who has lowered her paper.Nothing wrong, is there?
Lily.
Turning over and burying her head in the cushions.Maud.
Maud.
Moving to the settee and bending overLily.Here I am, lovey.
Lily.
In a muffled voice.Go into the next room and shut the door, and don’t let me see your stupid, fat face till I come to you.
Maud.
Laughing heartily.Ha, ha, ha! Ho, ho, ho! That’s better.Going to the bedroom door.That’s how I like to hear her talk. We needn’t send for Dr. Gilson yet awhile. Ha, ha, ha!
She disappears into the bedroom and closes the door.
Mrs. Upjohn.
Looking atLily.Lil.
Lily.
Yes, mother?
Mrs. Upjohn.
’Ave another cup o’ tea, won’t you?
Lily.
No.
Mrs. Upjohn.
’Nother bit o’ toast, then?
Lily.
No.
Mrs. Upjohn.
Smoke a cigarette.
Lily.
No.
Mrs. Upjohn.
You alwaysdo’ave a w’iff after your breakfast. Come!
Lily.
No.
Mrs. Upjohn.
Rising and walking away.Oh, dear; oh, dear! Deuce take Carlton Smythe an’ ’is supper party—those aremysentiments;an’Lal Roper, busybodythat ’e is! Things were goin’ on with us as smooth an’ peaceful as could be, before this upset.
Lily.
Raising herself, angrily.Youwere in it, mother; you’re as much to blame as anybody.
Mrs. Upjohn.
Halting.’Owinit?
Lily.
In Uncle Lal’s artful plan to prevent Nicko from being invited. You’ve confessed you were.
Mrs. Upjohn.
Lal twisted me round ’is little finger. I was clay in the porter’s ’and, as your dad was fond of sayin’.
Lily.
Changing her position.If only Nicko had been there, I shouldn’t have given young Farncombe all those dances, nor wandered about with him in the intervals, nor allowed him to see me home. It all simply wouldn’t,couldn’thave happened.Hitting a cushion.Oh!Sitting up and embracing her knees.Mother——!
Mrs. Upjohn.
Behind the settee.Wot?
Lily.
Knitting her brows.I—I’m so surprised at myself.
Mrs. Upjohn.
Surprised?
Lily.
So—so disappointed with myself.
Mrs. Upjohn.
Why, you ’aven’t done anything that—that’s not quite respectable, Lil. On the cont’ry——
Lily.
No, I haven’t done anything that’s actually not nice, but—fancy!——
Mrs. Upjohn.
Close toLily.Fancy——?
Lily.
Opening her eyes widely.Fancy my letting myself go with young Farncombe as I did!He—he’dbeen admiring me from a distance for weeks and weeks, but I’d scarcely noticed him till last night!Leaning her head againstMrs. Upjohn, softly.I—I always thought I was such a cold girl, mother, in—in that way.
Mrs. Upjohn.
I s’pose it was wot’s called love at first sight, Lil.
Lily.
Laughing shamefacedly.Ha, ha, ha!Putting her feet to the ground and shielding her face with her hands.Oh, don’t talk rot, mother.
Mrs. Upjohn.
Moving away.Any’ow, it’s not too late, Lil—even now——
Lily.
Not too late——?
Mrs. Upjohn.
Behind the centre table.To back out, dearie. The Captain couldn’t possibly ’old you to a ’asty promise given ’im between four an’ five in the mornin’.
Lily.
Oh! Oh, howcanyou! I’ve passed my word to Nicko and I wouldn’t break it for twenty thousand pounds.Looking up.Mother——!
Mrs. Upjohn.
Fussing with the things upon the table.Yes?
Lily.
Resolutely.I’m going to pull Nickoup, mother. I’ve dragged him down, and I mean to raise him.Clenching her hands.So help me God, I do!
Mrs. Upjohn.
Well, you’ve got a tough job before you, Lil, in my opinion.
Lily.
Perhaps; but I mean to succeed.After a pause.Besides——
Mrs. Upjohn.
Besides——?
Lily.
Slowly.I’ve told you—Nicko or no Nicko—I’m determined—I’m determined not to draw Eddie Farncombe into my net.
Mrs. Upjohn.
Into yournet?Another pause.Lil——
Lily.
Eh?
Mrs. Upjohn.
That’s twice you’ve made use o’ that remark. ’Oo’s accused you——?There is a lively rat-tat at the door on the left.Come in!
The door opens andJimmie Birchbounces into the room.
Jimmie.
As she closes the door.Ah, Ma! Ah, Lillums!
Mrs. Upjohn.
Good mornin’.
Jimmie.
KissingMrs. Upjohn.Ha, ha! We’ve met before, this morning, haven’t we!Coming toLily.Well, dear old girl, and how areyouto-day?KissingLilyand then eyeing her keenly.A wreck?
Lily.
Rather.
Jimmie.
Ioughtto be, but I’m not. Directly I laid my pretty head on my pillow I went off, and never stirred till I found the breakfast-tray on my chest.Reckoning on her fingers.Five to six—six to seven—seven to eight—eight to nine—nine to ten—ten to eleven. I’ve had six hours; that’s not so dusty.ToLily, slyly.You didn’t sleep very soundly, probably?
Lily.
Not very.
Jimmie.
Smiling from ear to ear.Excited?Lilyshrugs her shoulders. There is a silence and thenJimmie, still beaming, looks round and sees thatMrs. Upjohnhas seated herself upon the fauteuil-stool.May I sit down for a minute?
Lily.
Of course, Jimmie; do.
Jimmiesits in the arm-chair by the centre table, awaiting some communication which doesn’t come.Mrs. Upjohndrums upon the table with her fingers andLilybusies herself with re-arranging the cushions on the settee.
Jimmie.
After a while.Hope I haven’t dropped in too early?
Lily.
Settling her shoulders into the cushions.Not a bit, dear.
Jimmie.
It’s nearly half-past twelve. I—Idashedround.After another pause, unable to restrain herself further.Any news? Any-any-anything to tell me?
Mrs. Upjohn.
Abruptly.Yes.
Jimmie.
W-w-what——?
Mrs. Upjohn.
Lil’s engaged.
Jimmie.
Hah!Triumphantly.Hah, hah!Clapping her hands and beating her feet upon the floor.Hah, hah, hah, hah!Jumping up and sitting besideLilyand hugging and kissing her.Oh! Oh! Oh! Y’m! Y’m! Y’m! Oh, you humbugs!Rising and rushing atMrs. Upjohnand embracing her.You solemn humbug, Ma!LeavingMrs. Upjohnand singing and dancing to the refrain sung in the previous Act.“If you would only, only love me;—” Ha, ha, ha! “If you would merely, merely say,——”Her voice gradually dying away as she sees that the expression onLily’sface, and uponMrs. Upjohn’s, doesn’t alter.“Wait but a little—standing stilllittle—for me——”
Mrs. Upjohn.
Caustically.Yes, you’adbetter wait a little; you’d better wait till you ’ear’ooshe’s engagedto.
Jimmie.
Who—to!