THE THIRD ACT

The Scene is the same as in the previous Act, but a few articles of furniture are differently disposed about the room. There is no fire; and flowers decorate the fireplace. The windows are open and the light is that of a fine afternoon in summer.

Fraseris seated upon the settee.John Allinghamappears in the garden, looks into the room, glares fiercely atFraser,coughs significantly, and walks away. WhenJohnhas gone,Fraser,glancing at the window, rises, and, with an angry exclamation, crosses the room.Mrs. CloysandJustinaenter;Mrs. Cloysis dressed as in the previous Acts, but without her bonnet and mantle;Justinais in a bright morning-dress.

Mrs. Cloys.

[ToFraser.] She insists upon rising; she will see you in a few minutes.

Fraser.

Thank you.

Mrs. Cloys.

She is excessively weak and shattered; you must remember that.

Fraser.

Yes, yes. I can never adequately express my gratitude——

Mrs. Cloys.

[Sitting upon the settee.] Tsch!

Justina.

Aunt has been up with her the whole night.

Mrs. Cloys.

Not alone. Mrs. Allingham——

Fraser.

Mrs. Allingham——?

Mrs. Cloys.

Mrs. Allingham begged to be allowed to keep mecompany. There was a little scene between us—but the woman is, to some extent, human, I find.

Fraser.

Oh, I’ve no doubt that Mrs. Allingham is ashamed of herself——

Mrs. Cloys.

I hope we are all ashamed of ourselves. In the end I was far from sorry to have her companionship. Your poor wife didn’t come out of her swoon till nearly one o’clock this morning. Then Dr. Erskine went home and Mrs. Allingham and I took our places by the bedside—[toJustina]—till you arrived at breakfast-time, Justina.

Justina.

[ToFraser.] And I brought old Sarah, who used to maid us girls when Theo was at home; she’s dressing her now.

Fraser.

Mrs. Cloys, pray help me with your advice.

Mrs. Cloys.

[Bridling.] Oh—h—h——!

Fraser.

No, no—about Mr. Allingham. Ha! of course if we were Frenchmen we should fight a duel——

Justina.

Certainly, my dear Alec, and he would kill you.

Fraser.

Perhaps; that doesn’t follow.

Justina.

It doesn’t follow, because it can’t follow. But hewouldkill you and everybody would say of you, “Serve him right; another unsatisfactory husband disposed of!” And you would be buried, and my sister would be free and would go to Trouville in August in her weeds, and we should all have a splendid time generally.

Fraser.

[Dryly.] If we were French.

Justina.

Yes. [Going to the window.] Why aren’t we French!

Mrs. Cloys.

Justina——!

Fraser.

[Advancing toMrs. Cloys,hesitatingly, uncomfortably—lowering his voice.] I can’t deny that I have behaved in a very poor fashion to Theophila——

Justina.

[Looking into the garden.] Deny it! no!

Fraser.

[Turning toJustina.] Please——! [ToMrs. Cloys.] But you, Mrs. Cloys, have just admitted to me that, up till last night, your feelings towards her were at least as unjust as my own.

Mrs. Cloys.

Ah, I hope your contrition, now that the facts are known to us, is as sincere and as deep as mine, Mr. Fraser.

Justina.

Oh, how miserable he looks!

Mrs. Cloys.

Who?

Justina.

Jack Allingham. [She goes out, and disappears.

Fraser.

[Walking about angrily.] There he is again!

Mrs. Cloys.

He has every right to be here.

Fraser.

It’s in curious taste.

Mrs. Cloys.

I don’t see that. He feels called upon to remain here to protect his wife. He might say, with equal reason——

Fraser.

Hardly. He can takehiswife away, and protect her elsewhere. But I am helpless. You tell me it is a question whether Theophila ought to be moved to-day or not——

Mrs. Cloys.

[Referring to her watch.] Dr. Erskine will decide very shortly.

Fraser.

So, for how long, in heaven’s name, am I to endure Mr. Allingham? The fellow puts himself in my way. If I walk in the garden, he appears, indoors, at a window, and coughs in a menacing fashion. When I enter the house the proceedings are but slightly varied—I am inside; Allingham and his cough outside.

Mrs. Cloys.

I find him a simple-minded, boyish young man.

Fraser.

[Looking through the balustrade into the library.] Do you?

Mrs. Cloys.

After all, the conspiracy he assisted at—for which I can never forgive him—was carried out, on his part, in perfect good faith to Theophila.

Fraser.

His share in it is singularly discreditable.

Mrs. Cloys.

[Rising.] You and I must remember that it is through this discreditable act that we are able to do justice to your wife. [Justinare-enters, at the window.] Is Mr. Allingham there?

Justina.

Yes, aunt.

Mrs. Cloys.

[ToFraser.] I assume you are anxious to avoid any open quarrel with Mr. Allingham?

Fraser.

I simply wish to get my sick wife away as speedily and as peacefully as possible, and then to forget this gentleman—and his cough. [Mrs. Cloysgoes out at the window and disappears.] Justina; surely you—you—resent this new attitude of Mrs. Allingham’s? For months and months she is your sister’s bitter, determined enemy; then suddenly she is allowed to sit up all night, nursing her!

Justina.

You wouldn’t grudge the woman her little bit ofpractical repentance? If ever I go in for repentance, let nobody try to do me out of it!

Fraser.

[Impatiently.] Repentance——!

Justina.

[Sitting on the arm of a chair.] Oh, Olive Allingham didn’t have too gay a time of it last night, take my word for it. When Theo came-to, aunt tells me, her poor, overwrought brain wandered for an hour or so; that wasn’t over-pleasant for Mrs. A. Theo went through the whole business from beginning to end, breaking off occasionally to say her prayers—praying that the case might end in her favour, and that the season’s invitations would flow in as usual. Sometimes she’d stop in the middle of it, and call out that she couldn’t pray well while that creature was in the next room listening. Luckily, she fell into a heavy sleep, at about half-past two, and didn’t wake till just as I turned up in response to aunt’s telegram. But what a bad hour or two it must have been for Mrs. A.! Picture it! The half-darkened room; my little sister tossing about the bed, raving; aunt sitting grimly on one side, with a handkerchief round her head; andon the other side, hidden behind the bed-curtains, hardly daring to breathe, that woman, with her white face and her eyes almost out of their sockets!

Sir Fletcherenters, carrying some slips of paper covered with writing.

Sir Fletcher Portwood.

Allingham has had really a most admirable cold luncheon laid in the dining-room. [ToFraser.] You haven’t seen the dining-room?

Fraser.

[Shortly.] No.

Sir Fletcher Portwood.

Really a capital lunch. Evidently it is intended that one should wander in and eat a wing of a chicken when one feels inclined.

Justina.

Youhave been wandering, uncle, apparently.

Sir Fletcher Portwood.

A glass of sherry, merely. No—it is strange and unreasonable that it should be so, but itisso.

Justina.

What is so?

Sir Fletcher Portwood.

Why, one has rather a feeling of constraint in sitting down to Allingham’s table—at any rate until matters are in a more settled state. [ToFraser.]Youwouldn’t care to—to make the plunge?

Fraser.

Plunge——?

Sir Fletcher Portwood.

To break the ice?

Fraser.

Eat his lunch!

Sir Fletcher Portwood.

[Sitting on the settee and arranging his papers.] No, no; I can quite understand——

Justina.

[Throwing her head back.] Ha!

Fraser.

[To her, angrily.] I believe you would grin by the side of a grave.

Justina.

[Shrugging her shoulders.]Cela dépend.

Fraser.

[Turning away in disgust.] Ah!

Justina.

[Jumping up.] Oh, I’ve had my bad days lately—plenty of ’em! This morning the atmosphere’s a bit clearer. [Gaily.] Tra, la, la!

Fraser.

The woman who can laugh under such circumstances——

Justina.

[Turning upon him.] Laugh! My dear Alec, if you had learnt to laugh when you acquired your other accomplishments, you would have been able perhaps to keep my sister out of the Divorce Court.

[She goes out.

Sir Fletcher Portwood.

[Fussing with his papers.] Fraser——[Frasercomes to him.] When I got to my hotel here last night I jotted down the—the—the leading points—the leading features——

Fraser.

Leading features——?

Sir Fletcher Portwood.

Of this awkward affair between you and the Allinghams——

Fraser.

[Impatiently.] There is now no question between me and the Allinghams——

Sir Fletcher Portwood.

[Rising.] My dear Locheen! A lady deliberately stations herself in that room, with the cognizance and approval of her husband, to listen to——

Fraser.

I wish to forget all that occurred last night. It is done with.

Sir Fletcher Portwood.

Pardon me; it cannot be done with: it ought not to be done with, without the most complete apology—Iwill not, for reasons you will presently appreciate, hint from which side. [Going toFraser,button-holing him.] Do you know what has suggested itself to me, Fraser?

Fraser.

[Releasing himself.] No.

Sir Fletcher Portwood.

Why, sir, if ever there was a matter for reference, for arbitration, this is one!

Fraser.

[Between his teeth.] Arbitration——?

Sir Fletcher Portwood.

Good heavens, when I open myTimesin the morning, and glance at the law reports, how often have I occasion to remark, “Thatscandal might have been averted, andthat, andthat——” if only the intervention of some cool, level-headed person had been secured, the intervention of some one possessing the rarest of all gifts—the judicial faculty!

Fraser.

The gift is rare enough upon the bench. Peopleshrink from having their concerns adjudicated by a meddlesome amateur.

Sir Fletcher Portwood.

I sent Claude to town for his mother at ten o’clock this morning. Whentheyarrive, the family will be complete—with the exception Of my brother, Thomas Osborne Portwood, who is in Australia; a deplorable case. [Looking about him.] Arbitration dispenses with legal paraphernalia. A table, writing materials, a few chairs arranged—[his eye falling upon a table]—a table. [He moves the table and stands, disposing, by gesture, of an imaginary audience.] Seated here, I should command the room. [Pushing the settee a little further towards the left.] This thing must be differently placed. Chairs there—and there—— [ToFraser.] Locheen, would this be the better room, I wonder, or the library?

Fraser.

[Who has lapsed into thought, rousing himself.] Eh, for what?

Sir Fletcher Portwood.

For the arbitration? [Fraserimpatiently starts to his feet asMrs. Cloysenters at the window withJohn.] Oh, Mr. Allingham, if you will give me just a moment or two——

Mrs. Cloys.

[TakingSir Fletcher’sarm and drawing him aside.] Not now, Fletcher.

Sir Fletcher Portwood.

[Annoyed.] Harriet——!

[Sir FletcherandMrs. Cloysstand outside the window, talking.Johncomes and facesFraser.

John.

[With an effort.] I am sorry to hear, Mr. Fraser, that you have been annoyed, while a visitor at my house, by the persistency of my cough.

Fraser.

If I could have assured myself, Mr. Allingham, that your cough was a genuine one, it would not, however violent and grave its attacks, have occasioned me the smallest concern.

John.

I admit the cough was not genuine. I employedit as a sign that I was at hand should you wish to have an explanation with me.

Fraser.

The invitation might have been more explicitly phrased.

John.

It was clear enough for most men. At any rate, I hope the invitation is sufficiently plain now.

Fraser.

Quite.

John.

You decline it, or accept it?

Fraser.

If I hesitate, it is because I hardly know in what language you would choose for me to reply.

John.

Language——?

Fraser.

Words—or a cough?

John.

Oh, whichever you find most procrastinating and evasive.

Fraser.

[Coolly.] I decline your invitation, Mr. Allingham; I have nothing to say to you.

John.

[With clenched hands.] Nothing!

Fraser.

Nothing.

John.

[Glances atMrs. Cloys,then advances closely toFraserand speaks to him, in a low voice, beside himself with anger, but betraying nothing by gesture.] Fraser,youare actually responsible for the occurrences of last night. You have never understood your unfortunate wife; but yesterday your behaviour to her was cruel, brutal. I charge you with acting towards her like a brute.

Fraser.

[Looking at him immovably.] Well?

John.

Well——!

Fraser.

I repeat, I have nothing to say to you, Mr. Allingham.

[After a pause,Johnretreats fromFraserand sits upon the settee, leaning his head upon his hands and uttering a groan.

John.

Fraser, I promised Mrs. Cloys, out in the garden, just now that I would make an attempt to soften matters between us, and—and—offer you some civility—and so on. I began fairly well—[Fraserbows]—and then the conversation took another line. However—[rising, speaking with an effort, not looking atFraser]—let me say that my house is quite at Mrs. Fraser’s disposal—[with a gulp]—and at yours, for as long as she honours me—as you both honour me—by remaining here. [Fraseragain bows,Johnglares at him.] As for ourselves, whenever we encounter each other I will be careful to look in an opposite direction. Perhaps you will be good enough to follow the same course.

Fraser.

It is one that would have suggested itself to me.

Justinaenters.

Justina.

Alec, Theo is coming in to see you.

[Johngoes out quickly;Justinaspeaks toMrs. Cloys.

Mrs. Cloys.

[Entering the room and addressingFraser.] Theo is ready.

[Mrs. Cloysgoes out asSir Fletcherenters the room.

Justina.

[To him, significantly.]Now, perhaps a little lunch, uncle Fletcher——

[She goes out by the dining-room door.

Sir Fletcher Portwood.

[ToFraser.] Of course, my sister Harriet throws cold water upon my proposal——

Fraser.

Proposal——?

Sir Fletcher Portwood.

Arbitration. [Fraserwalks away and eyes the upper door anxiously and expectantly.] But when did Harriet fail to throw cold water? I shall sound Allingham and get his views. After all, Harriet is not essential; Harriet is not——

[While speaking he goes to the table, takes up the inkstand and blotting-book and carries them to the other table.

Fraser.

[ToSir Fletcher.] Sir Fletcher, Theophila understands that she is to see me here alone——

Sir Fletcher Portwood.

[Abstractedly.] I am off; I am off. [Stopping at the door, looking at the table, and slowly tapping his forehead.] Pens—paper; two p.’s.

[He goes out.Frasercomes to the dining-room door, and carefully draws theportière;then he walks away asMrs. Cloysenters by the upper door withTheophilaleaning upon her arm.Theophilais dressed as in the preceding Acts, but withoutbonnet or cape.Mrs. CloysplacesTheophilaupon the settee, then goes out at the window, and disappears.Frasertakes a chair and sits.

Fraser.

You—you are very ill, Theophila?

Theophila.

[In a low, level, weary voice, her eyes turned from him.] No; I have just escaped being ill, they say.

Fraser.

I have been out all night, taking steps to find you; your aunt’s telegram did not reach me till late this morning. I hurried here directly.

Theophila.

[Indifferently, her thoughts elsewhere.] Oh?

Fraser.

I hope they told you so.

Theophila.

Yes—I think they did. [Rousing herself slightly.] When did you receive the news that I’d—I’d——?

Fraser.

That you had——?

Theophila.

Run away?

Fraser.

Justina came to Lennox Gardens last night at about half-past six.

Theophila.

It hadn’t struck you as at all likely——?

Fraser.

No.

Theophila.

Mendon’tthink on some points, I suppose. They hit; they never expect to see a bruise.

Fraser.

The two days we passed in Court, Theophila, set me quite beside myself. I am here to express my deep, my unfeigned regret for my treatment of you. I—I humbly beg your pardon.

Theophila.

[Looking at him for the first time, in an expressionless way.] You know what happened last night?

Fraser.

[With assumed indifference.] Mrs. Cloys—told me—[with a wave of the hand]—oh, yes.

Theophila.

I asked her to tell you all. She has told youall?

Fraser.

[Nodding agitatedly.] For God’s sake, let us never again refer to the subject. Forget my share of yesterday and I will forget yours. [Moving his chair to the head of the settee, to be nearer to her.] Theophila, everything you planned that we should do to reinstate you shall be done; I am prepared to go in with your schemes, heart and soul; all your suggestions shall be acted upon promptly.

Theophila.

[Moving away from him; then, after a brief pause.] No, thank you,Alec.Alec.

Fraser.

[Staring at her.] No——?

Theophila.

I’d rather not, now.

Fraser.

Why not?

Theophila.

Things are different.

Fraser.

In what way?

Theophila.

Ifeel very different. When I asked you yesterday afternoon to lend me a helping hand I was asking for my right. It’s true we haven’t got on well together; you’ve been in one place, I in another, for more than half our married life. It’s true I’ve been miserable and lonely, and have told my tale often enough to him—Mr. Allingham——

Fraser.

[Between his teeth.] Yes, yes.

Theophila.

But, throughout everything, I’ve never been disloyal to you; I’ve always been fair to you when speaking of you behind your back; though I’ve hated you sometimes, I wouldn’t have let a living soul say a word against you in my presence. This istruth,truth,Oh, I know I’ve been vilely brought up! ’Tina and I are vulgar and slangy, and generally bad form; and we were once what’s called “fast,” I suppose. But our fastness didn’t amount to much; it was only flirting, and giggling, and dodging mother, and getting lost in conservatories and gardens. Oh, what fools girls are! No, till yesterday I’ve been only silly—silly—nothing but silly—till last night——! till last night——!

Fraser.

[Rising and pacing the room.] You were no more yourself last night than I wasmyselfyesterday afternoon!

Theophila.

[Sitting upright.] Who says I was not myself? Itwasmyself, the dregs of myself, that came to the top last night!

Fraser.

The—the—circumstances—under which you—you behaved as you did——

Theophila.

[Hiding her face in the pillows.] Oh, don’t remind me of it!

Fraser.

I mean, you were weak—ill——

Theophila.

You mean nothing of the sort ... oh-h-h-h, how horrid I must have looked...!

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