Chapter 4

Theophila.

Thanks, awfully.

[She takes her bonnet fromMrs. Emptage,and fiercely begins to roll it in her cape, as if about to crush them together.

Mrs. Emptage.

[Uttering a little scream, running round the settee to her.] What are you doing?

[There is a general movement.

Theophila.

[Looking round.] It’s all right. [With an attempt at a laugh.] Those things are to be destroyed.

Mrs. Emptage.

[Taking the bonnet and cape fromTheophila.] Destroyed! They were new for the case!

Theophila.

Sniff them, mother.

Mrs. Emptage.

[Doing so.] Perfume.

Theophila.

Phew! I intend to burn every thread I’m wearing, and to have a bath before dinner.

Fraser.

[Constrainedly.] We were rather unfortunate in the case that is to follow ours.

Theophila.

Yes. [Looking straight before her.] There was a patchouli business waiting to come on after us.

Mrs. Emptage.

[Holding the things at arm’s length.] Oh, dear!

Theophila.

It had been flitting about since the morning. It sat down beside me at last.

Mrs. Emptage.

It?

Theophila.

It, it, it. And it was wearing a bonnet almost precisely like mine; and it looked to be about my own age, and could have had my sort of complexion if it had chosen——

Mrs. Cloys.

Hush, Theophila——!

Theophila.

[Hysterically.] Ho, ho, ho! these last two days!

[Horton enters with tea.

Mrs. Emptage.

Here’s tea! Claude, help Justina with the tea-table. Tea is what Theo needs.

[She hurries out withTheophila’sbonnet and cape.ClaudeandJustinacarry the tea-table and place it before the “cosy-corner.”Mrs. Cloyssits with her head bent.Hortonplaces the tray upon the tea-table and withdraws.Justinasits in the “cosy-corner” and pours out tea.

Sir Fletcher Portwood.

[Bustling up to the tea-table.] Tea is what weallneed. A most exciting day! I’ve often observed how welcome one’s tea is on a Derby Day——

Theophila.

[In a whisper toFraseracross the table.] Alec, will you tell them what the judge said of me, or shall I?

Fraser.

I suppose it’s necessary.

Theophila.

Peopleheardit. Then, the papers——

Fraser.

Of course. [Agitated.] I—I’ll tell them, if you like.

Theophila.

Thank you. [Quickly.] No, no—I’ll tell them. You couldn’t do it—howcouldyou?

Mrs. Emptagereturns.

Mrs. Emptage.

Tea, tea! [Sitting.] Alec, come and sit by me. [Frasersits at a distance,his lips compressed,his hands gripped together.] Oh, fie! all that way off! You will persist in treating me as an ordinary mother-in-law! [Frasermoves his chair a little nearer.] That’s better. [Triumphantly.] Well, Harriet, you see all my children round me—a happy family!

[Claudebrings tea toMrs. Cloys.

Sir Fletcher Portwood.

[Bringing a cup of tea toTheophila.] I make no excuse for devoting myself to Theo—on this occasion. [Theophilatakes the tea and gulps it.] You looked charming in the witness-box—piquant. [Returning to the tea-table.] Piquant—just the word—piquant.

Mrs. Emptage.

Now, Alec dear, tell us. Did Mrs. Allingham’s counsel, Mr. What’s-his-name, express regret when it was all over?

Fraser.

Regret——?

[Sir Fletcherbrings tea toMrs. Emptage;Claudebrings tea toFraser,then returns to the tea-table.

Mrs. Emptage.

Regret at finding himself made the—the thingamy—the vehicle—for such a malicious attack on Theo’s character—the poor child.

Fraser.

[With an effort.] No; no regret was expressed.

Mrs. Emptage.

Not by the judge either?

Fraser.

The judge!

Mrs. Emptage.

The judge never said he was sorry to see a nicely bred girl, so recently married too, subjected to such a—such a—such an unwarrantable ordeal? [Fraseris silent.] Eh—h?

Theophila.

[After a brief pause.] No, mother.

Mrs. Emptage.

You were wrong, then, Fletcher, you see.

Sir Fletcher Portwood.

[Holding up his hand.] Wait, wait, please! I don’t think I amveryoften out in my calculations. [ToTheophila.] What sort of demonstration occurred at the close, may I venture to ask?

Theophila.

Demonstration?

Mrs. Emptage.

Did they cheer you much, darling? That’s what your uncle means.

Theophila.

Cheerme, mother——?

[Fraserrises abruptly, placing his cup, with a clatter, on the piano.

Fraser.

I—I feel as Theophila does. I must dip my faceinto cold water. The atmosphere of that place stifles one even now. Do excuse me.

[He goes out; all, exceptTheophila,look after him, surprised.

Theophila.

Mother dear—Uncle Fletcher—you seem to have a wrong impression——

Mrs. Emptage.

Wrong impression?

Theophila.

Oh, Mrs. Allingham’s petition has been dismissed—yes. But Sir John Clarkson and Mr. Martyn, my other counsel—all my friends in fact—were a little too sanguine.

Mrs. Emptage.

Too sanguine?

Theophila.

Oh, much too sanguine. The judge was rather rough on me.

Mrs. Emptage.

What on earth do you——?

Theophila.

Rather down on me—severe. My behaviour—my conduct—has been careless—indiscreet, he says——

Mrs. Emptage.

[Under her breath.] Indiscreet?

Theophila.

Hardly characteristic of a woman who is properly watchful of her own and her husband’s reputation—honour.

Justina.

[Coming forward a few steps.] Theo!

Theophila.

[Disjointedly.] But at the same time, he said, Mrs. Allingham had scarcely succeeded in establishing conclusively to his mind ... oh!... and he thought that even the petitioner herself, on further reflection, would be desirous that I should receive the—the benefit of the doubt ... and—and something about costs....

[She breaks off; they all remain silent for a time.

Mrs. Emptage.

This—this will appear in the papers! Won’t it?Won’t it? [No one replies;Sir Fletchersinks into a chair, with a blank look.] Can’t anybody answer me? Fletcher, will this be in the papers?

Sir Fletcher Portwood.

[Confused.] The papers—! No strong-minded public man ever looks at the papers. When I have spoken in the House I never——

Justina.

[In a hard voice.] Why, of course, a dozen papers will have it. What a silly question to ask, ma!

Mrs. Emptage.

[Advancing toMrs. Cloys.] I hope you’re quite satisfied, Harriet. You came here, after these many years, on purpose to witness this——[Mrs. Cloysrises]—to see disgrace and ruin brought on me and my family.

Mrs. Cloys.

Muriel, how dare you say it?

Mrs. Emptage.

I’m only a widow! Everybody is entitled to stab at me!

Mrs. Cloys.

[Turning away.] I’ll not listen to you!

Mrs. Emptage.

[Weeping.] Oh, oh, oh! how glad our friends will be! [Going towards the door.] Here’s a triumph for our friends!

Justina.

[Following her.] Mother——

Mrs. Emptage.

[Pushing her aside.] Go away! I don’t want you near me!

Justina.

Ho!

Mrs. Emptage.

Bristow shall attend on me. I shall lie down on my bed. I shall have my corsets taken off——

[She disappears.

Mrs. Cloys.

[Going towards the door.] Muriel——!

[She goes out, followingMrs. Emptage.

Justina.

[With a grating laugh.] That’s ma all over; she always goes through this process when there’s a family crisis. [ToTheophila.] Do you remember, Phil?

Theophila.

[Stonily.] What?

Justina.

Directly the news of poor pa’s death came, ma took off her corsets.

Sir Fletcher Portwood.

[Rising.] I shall go out; people shall see me walking boldly through the streets: Portland Place—Regent Street—[in agitation]—Fletcher Portwood, with his head up—his head up, they’ll say. [He paces the room, and comes uponClaude,who is sitting at the writing-table, writing a telegram, his eyes bolting and a generally vacuous expression on his face.] And you! when are you going to do something in the world besides idling, and loafing, and living upon your mother——?

Claude.

[Rising, disconcerted.] What’s that to do with it?

Sir Fletcher Portwood.

Do with it? Why, at eighteen I was earning twenty shillings a week, and maintaining myself. Now look at the position I have achieved, from sheer brain-force! [ToTheophila.] I shall not turn my back on you, my poor little girl; don’t be frightened of that. You were always my favourite niece——

Justina.

[Laughing, a little wildly.] Ha, ha, ha, ha!

Sir Fletcher Portwood.

I beg your pardon, ’Tina; I’ve no favourites. Can I buy you anything, either of you, while I’m out? I may look in here again before I go down to the House. The finest assembly of gentlemen in the world. No patterns, or new music, wanted—eh?

Theophila.

[Feebly.] Oh, no.

Sir Fletcher Portwood.

I shall dine at the House, and then sup at the club. All London shall see me. “Look at Portwood!” everybody will say. “Then there can’t bethe slightest foundation for this scandal about his niece——!”

[He goes out.

Claude.

[Looking after him.] Transparent old egotist! How do I know whether I’m in his Will or not? And yet I stand here and allow him to lecture me! Me! Ha, compare his education with mine! And what real knowledge has he of Life, of Men and Women——? [ShowingJustinahis telegram.] Is that the way you spell Bernhart?

Justina.

[Reading the telegram.] No; h-a-r-d-t. What’s this?

Claude.

[In an undertone.] The Wartons wanted to take me to see Bernhardt to-night. Of course, I can’t gonow. A marked man! every eye upon me! her brother! [Going to the door, he meetsFraser.] ’Ullo, Fraser!

[Claudegoes out;Fraser,who is carrying his hat and gloves, walks across the room, eyeingJustina.

Justina.

[ToFraser.] Do you want to speak to Theo?

Fraser.

Oh—just for one moment——

[Theophilarises;Justinagoes to her.

Justina.

Never mind, old girl. [With a little laugh.] Ha! I suppose this has queered my pitch for a season or two, but—[kissing her]—never mind—[going to the door]—these things will happen in the best regulated——

[She disappears. There is a brief silence, during whichTheophilacloses the doors.

Fraser.

Have you told your people?

Theophila.

Yes.

Fraser.

How do they take it?

Theophila.

All right—pretty well. Mother is lying down for a bit. She’ll be quite herself again in a few days.

Fraser.

[Thoughtfully.] A few days—will she? [Partly to himself.] In a few days?

Theophila.

She’ll have a week at Worthing. She’s always had a week at Worthing when we’ve been in any trouble. You’ve got your hat, Alec; do you mean to dine out?

Fraser.

To-night!

Theophila.

[Weakly.] Oh, don’t be so sharp with me! All the way home from the Strand you’d hardly speak a word.

Fraser.

[Sitting on the settee.] I was thinking over what we’d been listening to.

Theophila.

Yes, the things sounded much worse in Court than they did out of it, didn’t they?

Fraser.

[His head bowed.] Awful!

Theophila.

How cruel it was of them to buoy us up by telling us the case was going right for me!

Fraser.

Many believed it. Martyn was sure the judge was on our side.

Theophila.

When one comes to think of it, her counsel managed to put such a very queer complexion——

Fraser.

Awful.

Theophila.

Oh, I don’t know what I felt like at some moments! I—I felt like a woman caught with bare shoulders in daylight.

Fraser.

Awful.

Theophila.

[Looking at him curiously.] Alec, you seem to be—different to me, now the trial’s over.

Fraser.

[In a muffled voice.] Do I? I—we’re worn out.

Theophila.

[After some hesitation, going to the back of the settee.]

I say! I want to tell you—I am—truly sorry.

Fraser.

[Raising his head.] Sorry——!

Theophila.

[With an effort.] And I humbly beg your pardon.

Fraser.

[Rising and facing her.] For what?

Theophila.

Why, for all the bother I’ve caused.

Fraser.

[Resuming his seat.] Oh——!

[She stares at him for a moment, surprised and disappointed, then turns away.

Theophila.

[To herself.] Oh——! [To him.] Alec, I’ve had the idea that the trouble we’ve lately gone through, both of us, over this horrid business, might help to bring us together. We haven’t got along over-well, have we?

Fraser.

Not too well, I’m afraid.

Theophila.

A good deal my fault, I dare say. Oh, I hated Locheen——!

Fraser.

Yes.

Theophila.

As heartily as you hate London. I’m a town girl, a thorough little cockney—you knew it when you married me!—and—Locheen!——

Fraser.

Locheen is a beautiful place.

Theophila.

London’s a beautiful place.

Fraser.

No.

Theophila.

[Hotly.] No to you, then. [Sitting.] I beg pardon again; I didn’t mean to be rude. I understand how you feel. You were born at Locheen.

Fraser.

I was.

Theophila.

[Pointing towards the window.] I was born in Chester Terrace. I admit, Locheen is all very well at a certain time of year. But to be stuck there when London’s full; when nobody but a poor relation, whose railway ticket you send with the invitation, will come and look you up! Oh, that summer you made me spend there just after we were married!

Fraser.

I was very happy that summer.

Theophila.

You were in love. And then, the pipers! those pipers!

Fraser.

Duncan and Hamish were supremely ridiculous to you, I remember.

Theophila.

Not ridiculous, as you say it—great fun for a time; but four or five months of Duncan and Hamish and their pipes! To and fro on the terrace, for a whole hour in the morning, those pipes! To and fro, up and down, all round the house, in the afternoon, those pipes! At dinner, from the trout to the banana, those pipes. And then, the notion of your persistently dining in a kilt! A Highland costume on the moors—yes; but in the lamplight—at dinner——!

Fraser.

It is my dress; I don’t vary it.

Theophila.

Think of it! A man and woman diningtête-à-tête,for months and months; the woman hypped, weary; the novelty of her new clothes gradually wearing off; she feeling she was getting lean and plain with it all, salt-cellary about the shoulders, drawn and hideous—[staring before her, her eyes dilating]—and, every blessed night, the man in a magnificent evening kilt!

Fraser.

Surely that, too, was “great fun” for a time?

Theophila.

It might have been, if you had the smallest sense of humour, Alec; but one soon tires of laughing alone. No, there was never any fun in that kilt. It got on my nerves from the beginning—the solemn, stupid stateliness of it. Girls are subject to creeps and crawls; I grew at last to positively dread joining you in the hall of an evening, to be frightened at giving you my arm to go into dinner—the simple sound of the rustling of my skirt against that petticoat of yours made the chairs, everything, dance. At those moments old Duncan and his boy Hamish seemed to be blowing into the blood-vessels of my head. And during dinner even the table wouldn’t help me; I was weak, hysterical—I declare to goodnessI could always see through the thickness of the board—see the two knees! [With a backward shake of the head] Ha!

Fraser.

Well, Duncan and Hamish—poor fellows—and their pipes, and the objectionable kilt—those things need never trouble you again; at any rate, we can decide that.

Theophila.

Oh, no, Alec, we will go up to Locheen in August——

Fraser.

Locheen——!

Theophila.

Wait! you haven’t heard. [She changes her position, sitting beside him; he not responsive, almost shrinking from her.] Alec—Alec dear—[leaning her head against his shoulder]—I intend to be good in the future, so very good.

Fraser.

What do you mean—good?

Theophila.

I intend to get on well with you, wherever we maybe—Iwillget on well with you. I’ve been babyish and silly all my life; I’m seven-and-twenty; I’m an old woman; I’ve sown my wild oats now.

Fraser.

Wild oats?

Theophila.

Forty-four pounds to the bushel. And so, directly we’ve fought our way—oh my, it will be a fight, too!—directly we’ve fought our way through the Season in London, we’ll be off to Locheen——

Fraser.

The Season—here——!

Theophila.

Yes.

Fraser.

Theophila, there will be no Season for us in London, and no Locheen even for me, for two or three years at least. [Rising] We’re going abroad——

Theophila.

Abroad——!

Fraser.

Directly, directly. There will be only to-morrow to settle everything, to make all arrangements. [Pacing up and down.] The servants at Lennox Gardens will be discharged, the house let furnished—perhaps it would be better to let Marlers sell the furniture, and have done with it. [Pausing in his walk.] I am returning to Lennox Gardens now, at once; will you come back with me, or dine with your people and let me fetch you later on? [She sits, staring at him, without speaking.] Theo, please let me know your wishes.

Theophila.

[Quietly.] No, no—you mustn’t do this.

Fraser.

Why not?

Theophila.

Why, don’t you see? We’vegotto sit tight here in town; we’vegotto do it, to win back my good name. [Fraseragitatedly resumes his walk.] Of course, we shall be asked nowhere, but we must be seen about together, you and I, wherever it’s possible for us to squeeze ourselves. [Rapidly and excitedly.]There’s the Opera; we can subscribe for a box on the ground tier—the stalls can’t help picking you out there. And there we must sit, laughing and talking, Alec, andconvincepeople that we’re a happy couple and that you believe in me implicitly. And when the Season’s done with,thenLocheen; we must have Locheen crowded with the best we can lay hands on—many that wouldn’t touch me with the tongs at this moment will be glad of a cheap week or two at Locheen in the autumn. And we must let ’em all see that I’m a rattling good indoor, as well as outdoor, wife, and that you’re frightfully devoted to me, and that whatshecharged me with—well, simply couldn’t have been. And afterwards they’ll go back to town and chatter, and in the end the thing will blow over, and—and——Oh, but to go abroadnow! [Going to him, and slipping her arm through his.] Alec, dear old boy, how could you dream of cutting and runningnow?

[He withdraws his arm.]

Fraser.

Theophila, I—I am sorry to distress you—if it does distress you, but I—I’ve quite made up my mind. [Passionately.] We are going abroad.

Theophila.

I’ll not stir!

Fraser.

Would you let me go alone?

Theophila.

[Recoiling.] Oh——!

Fraser.

[Following her.] You see, you will have to come with me.

Theophila.

You’d be a brute to do it, Alec! [Stamping her foot.] Don’t you hear me? Can’t you understand me? You’re not a fool! I tell you we’ve got to try to convince people——

Fraser.

People! People shall not see me play-acting——

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