[PresentingMacphail.] My boy. [He shelters himself behind her and bows uneasily.] I have determined to give the lad a season in this mighty city, Lady Twombley.
Lady Twombley.
Ah, he’ll enjoy himself, I’m sure.
Lady Macphail.
Nay, the Macphails never enjoy themselves in the South.
Lady Twombley.
I’m very sorry; perhaps they don’t go the right way about it.
Lady Macphail.
Already Colin’s feet ache——
Lady Twombley.
Do they?
Lady Macphail.
Ache to press the heather again, searching for a sight of the red-deer in the misty chasms of Ben Muchty, or the wild birds fluttering on the gray shore of Loch-na-Doich.
Lady Twombley.
Ah, very pretty country, I dare say.
Lady Macphail.
Where would you be, Colin, at this hour at Castle Ballocheevin? Watching the sun sink behind the black peak of Ben-na-Vrachie? Speak, lad!
Macphail.
[Sadly.] That is so, mother.
Lady Twombley.
Do you do that every evening at home?
Macphail.
Aye.
Lady Macphail.
Ah, a Macphail always feels like a seagull with a broken wing in the South.
Lady Twombley.
You must take care you don’t get him run over.
Probyn.
[Appearing at the entrance.] Tea is in the yellow room, my lady.
[Drumdurris,Brooke,Egidia,andLady Euphemiago out.]
Dowager.
[IntroducingImogen.] Lady Macphail, Sir Colin—my niece, Imogen. Imogen, take Sir Colin to tea.
Imogen.
This way, Sir Colin.
Dowager.
[ToLady Twombley.] You see my motive?
Imogen.
[Waiting forMacphail.] Tea is in this room, Sir Colin.
Macphail.
[Looking atImogen,and then, appealingly, atLady Macphail.] Come, mother.
[Imogen,Macphail,andLady Macphailgo out.]
Dowager.
[ToLady Twombley,following the others.] He is impressed!
[Sir Julian,in evening dress, enters with a letter in his hand.]
Sir Julian Twombley.
Katherine! Katherine!
Lady Twombley.
Pa?
Sir Julian Twombley.
I must speak to you.
Lady Twombley.
But Dora has just brought a Highland youth here.
Sir Julian Twombley.
I can’t help it.
Lady Twombley.
What’s wrong, pa? How pale and waxy you look!
Sir Julian Twombley.
[Handing her the letter.] An urgent letter from old Mr. Mason, my solicitor, about my affairs.
Lady Twombley.
Oh, Lor’, pa—another!
Sir Julian Twombley.
You have it upside down.
Lady Twombley.
Everything connected with our affairswillget that way.
Sir Julian Twombley.
Mason is imperative.
Lady Twombley.
He insists upon your considering your pecuniary position.
Sir Julian Twombley.
What shall I do?
Lady Twombley.
Accede to his request—consider it.
Sir Julian Twombley.
But I am constantly considering it!
Lady Twombley.
Hush, pa!
Sir Julian Twombley.
No man’s pecuniary position has ever demanded or received more consideration than my own. Day and night my pecuniary position lashes my brain into the consistency of a whipped egg.
Lady Twombley.
Pa, be calm!
Sir Julian Twombley.
Kate, my pecuniary position interposes between me and grave public questions. My very spectacles are toned by it. It is in every blue-book, in every page of Hansard, in the preamble of every Bill.
Lady Twombley.
Oh, dear pa!
Sir Julian Twombley.
It sits with me in committees, accompanies me into the lobbies; it receives deputations, replies to questions in the House; it forms part of the deliberations of the Cabinet. It warps my political sympathies; it distorts my judgment; it obscures my eloquence, and it lames my logic! [Taking the letterfromLady Twombley.] And Mason—asks—me—to consider it!
[Leans his head on his hands. She sits on the arm of his chair.]
Lady Twombley.
[Tearfully.] Julian, you—mustn’t—give way. Suppose the members of the Opposition saw you like this.
Sir Julian Twombley.
[With a groan.] Oh!
Lady Twombley.
Think of those persons who sit—where is it?—on the hatchway—or below the gangway, or some uncomfortable place. How rejoiced they’d be! [Shaking him gently.] Have courage, Julian—perk up, pa dear.
Sir Julian Twombley.
I cannot go on, Kitty.
Lady Twombley.
Oh, don’t say that!
Sir Julian Twombley.
Mason’s letter decides me.
Lady Twombley.
To do what!
Sir Julian Twombley.
Yield to a sentiment which I have reason to believe exists on both sides of the House——
Lady Twombley.
Resign?
Sir Julian Twombley.
Resign my place in the Ministry—ask for the Chiltern Hundreds——
Lady Twombley.
Oh!
Sir Julian Twombley.
Wind up my affairs in town——
Lady Twombley.
Oh, no!
Sir Julian Twombley.
And seek peace in rural retirement.
Lady Twombley.
You shan’t, pa! Oh, my gracious, you wouldn’t be so heartless!
Sir Julian Twombley.
Heartless!
Lady Twombley.
[Kneeling beside him.] Think of my blessed chicks—my babies. Don’t go under, Julian, till we’ve given them the benefit of our magnificent position——
Sir Julian Twombley.
Our mag——
Lady Twombley.
Wait till my Brooky—our Brooky—has won some handsome, wealthy girl who is worthy of him. Hold on till Imogen has made a marriage that will makeevery true mother’s mouth water. Then I’ll settle down with you alone, in a marsh. But don’t sink into obscurity till the end of the year! I can do wonders by Christmas! Give me till then, pa—give me till then!
[She throws her arms round his neck.Imogen’sharp is heard again.Mrs. Gaylustreenters.]
Mrs. Gaylustre.
The wretches! how they ignore me! [SeeingSir JulianandLady Twombley.] Ah!
[Hiding herself behind a pillar she listens.]
Sir Julian Twombley.
But—but—but if I desperately cling to public life a little longer I must have money.
Lady Twombley.
Of course—of course you must have money. But, Julian, you must look to me for that.
Sir Julian Twombley.
You, Katherine!
Lady Twombley.
You must think only of your value to the country, and—leave the rest to your wife.
Sir Julian Twombley.
Kitty, you have made some little private hoard out of your allowance!
Lady Twombley.
[Sinking faintly onto the settee.] Well, pa.
Sir Julian Twombley.
How prudent! How thoughtful!
Lady Twombley.
Go—go to Dora. Make my excuses. I’ll follow you when I’ve pulled myself together.
Sir Julian Twombley.
Yes, yes. [Turning.] By the way, Kitty, Hopwoods have just sent in their bill for erecting this conservatory.
Lady Twombley.
[Clinging to the back of the chair.] Oh!
Sir Julian Twombley.
You remember I transferred, at your request, seven thousand some odd pounds to your account at Scott’s when we projected the—h’m!—pardonable little extravagance?
Lady Twombley.
Y—yes.
Sir Julian Twombley.
Hopwoods can wait till midsummer. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind letting me have the use of the money in the meantime?
Lady Twombley.
No, certainly not.
Sir Julian Twombley.
A cheque any day this week——
Lady Twombley.
All days are equally convenient.
Sir Julian Twombley.
Kitty, Iwillhold on till Christmas!
Lady Twombley.
Thank you, pa—I—— [She turns to him suddenly.] Oh, pa, I haven’t got—I haven’t—I——
Sir Julian Twombley.
Haven’t what, Kitty?
Lady Twombley.
N—nothing. Go—go to Dora. [He goes out.] Oh! where shall I turn for money? Where shall I turn? Where shall I turn—for money? [Mrs. Gaylustreadvances and facesLady Twombley.] Ah! Mrs. Gaylustre!
Mrs. Gaylustre.
Oh, Lady Twombley, I am in such distress!
Lady Twombley.
Distress!
Mrs. Gaylustre.
[ProducingLady Twombley’sletter toBrooke.] I picked up a letter in the next room. I thought it was the note you wrote me about the plum-colouredpeignoirand that it had fallen from my pocket. Iglanced at it. Oh, look! [She hands the letter toLady Twombley.]
Lady Twombley.
Gracious!
Mrs. Gaylustre.
But that is not the worst. It tells me that you are in trouble—you, the best friend I have in the world, my benefactress. Oh, what shall I do?
Lady Twombley.
Hold your tongue about it.
Mrs. Gaylustre.
Ah! why did I read it through?
Lady Twombley.
Because you were a little curious, I’m afraid.
Mrs. Gaylustre.
I shan’t sleep for it.
Lady Twombley.
Thank you, I can do all my own lying awake. Mind your own concerns for the future, Gaylustre.
Mrs. Gaylustre.
Itismy concern when I can help you.
Lady Twombley.
Youhelp me?
Mrs. Gaylustre.
Ah, yes. Oh, let me, Lady Twombley! I don’t ask to be confided in, I only ask to be allowed to bring my brother to see you—to-night—to-morrow.
Lady Twombley.
Your brother?
Mrs. Gaylustre.
Mr. Lebanon—my Joseph. I would trust him as I’d trust myself. I have known him do such things in the way of raising money upon what he calls personal and other security——
Lady Twombley.
A money-lender?
Mrs. Gaylustre.
Lady Twombley! Oh!
Lady Twombley.
Does Mr. Lebanon help—people—in difficulties?
Mrs. Gaylustre.
Oh, doesn’t he!
Lady Twombley.
Oh!
Mrs. Gaylustre.
Will you see him, Lady Twombley?
Lady Twombley.
Don’t ask me. Perhaps.
Mrs. Gaylustre.
To-night?
Lady Twombley.
Perhaps, I tell you.
Mrs. Gaylustre.
At what time?
Lady Twombley.
Half-past nine—sharp.
Mrs. Gaylustre.
[To herself.] Done!
[Sir Julianenters withLady Macphail,Macphail,and theDowager.Brookefollows withDrumdurris,then after an intervalLady Euphemia,Egidia,andImogenappear.]
Sir Julian Twombley.
[ToLady Twombley,reprovingly.] My dear, Lady Macphail and Sir Colin are going.
Dowager.
[ToLady Twombley.] You are neglecting them. What can be your motive?
Lady Twombley.
[ToLady Macphail.] I hope Sir Julian has explained——
Lady Macphail.
Certainly. But I must take my boy away. He dines at six to avoid late hours.
[Imogentalks toMacphail.]
Dowager.
[Quietly toLady Twombley.] Look! they are talking.
Lady Macphail.
Colin rises at five every morning.
Lady Twombley.
Dear me, how awful!
Lady Macphail.
He loves to watch the sunrise from the jagged summit of Ben-na-fechan.
Lady Twombley.
But there’s no Ben-na-what-you-may-call-it here.
Lady Macphail.
No. But he sits upon the roof of our lodgings in Clarges Street. Good-bye, Lady Twombley.
[They shake hands.]
Lady Twombley.
[ToMacphail.] Good-bye. You must come and see me on one of my Tuesdays.
Macphail.
Aye, with my mother.
[He turns toImogen;they shake hands.]
Imogen.
Good-bye, Sir Colin.
Dowager.
[ToLady Twombley.] There again! look!
Brooke Twombley.
Why, here’s Valentine! Valentine!
Lady Twombley.
[Inquiringly.] Valentine?
[Brookebrings onValentine.]
Valentine White.
[ToBrooke.] Let me go! I was trying to find my way out.
Brooke Twombley.
[ToLady Twombley.] Here’s Valentine, come back.
Imogen.
Valentine!
Valentine White.
Imogen!
Imogen.
Oh, my dear Val! My dear old Val!
[She rushes to him impulsively and flings her arms round his neck, at which theDowagergives a cry of horror, and there is a general movement of astonishment.]
END OF THE FIRST ACT.
Difficulties.
The scene is a handsomely decorated and elegantly furnished morning-room atSir Julian Twombley’s,with every evidence of luxury and refined taste. It is a July morning.
Sir Julianis playing his flute.Mr. Melton,a good-looking, well-dressed young man, enters carrying a few sheets of paper.
Mr. Melton.
Pardon me. [Sir Julian’sflute gives a squeak.]
Sir Julian Twombley.
Oh, Melton?
Mr. Melton.
The arrangements for this morning are quite complete, Sir Julian.
Sir Julian Twombley.
The arrangements?
Mr. Melton.
The arrangements for the opening of the new street.
Sir Julian Twombley.
Oh, to be sure; I open the new street to-day. Why on earth shouldn’t a new street be opened by a policeman during the night, quietly?
[TheDowager Lady Drumdurris,fashionably dressed for out-of-doors, enters.]
Dowager.
[In a flutter.] Julian, good-morning. A glorious day for the ceremony, Mr. Melton. Is everything arranged?
Mr. Melton.
[Bowing.] Everything.
Dowager.
I have a motive for asking. I and my family accompany Sir Julian and Lady Twombley to lend weight and support.
Mr. Melton.
[ToSir Julian.] You leave here at twelve, reaching the new street at half-past. You speak from the cluster of lamps by St. Jude’s Church.
Dowager.
Your speech will be terse, elegant, and vigorous, I hope, Julian?
Sir Julian Twombley.
I hope so. Have you written it, Melton? [Meltonhands him the sheets of paper.] Thank you. The usual thing, I suppose?
Mr. Melton.
Quite, quite.
Sir Julian Twombley.
Thank you. There’s nothing like the usual thing. [Referring to the speech.] “By opening up these majestic avenues London takes beer——”
Mr. Melton.
Air.
Sir Julian Twombley.
I beg your pardon. “——takes air into her system and keeps her place in the race with her sister cities.” Excellent.
Dowager.
Who will throw the bottle?
Sir Julian Twombley.
No one, I hope.
Mr. Melton.
You are thinking of the christening of a ship, Lady Drumdurris.
Dowager.
Pardon me.
Mr. Melton.
I have to see Superintendent Snudden now as to the police arrangements.
Sir Julian Twombley.
Dear me! You anticipate no pellets?
Mr. Melton.
Hardly.
Sir Julian Twombley.
It’s so unfortunate it isn’t a wet day.
Dowager.
Julian!
Sir Julian Twombley.
An umbrella is such a safeguard.
Mr. Melton.
I’ll see that the carriage closes easily.
Sir Julian Twombley.
Thank you. And Lady Twombley might take an extra sunshade.
[Meltongoes out. TheDowagercloses the door carefully after him.]
Sir Julian Twombley.
[Reading.] “I can conceive no position more agreeable to a Minister of the Crown than that which——”
Dowager.
Julian!
Sir Julian Twombley.
Dora?
Dowager.
You wonder why I am with you at this early hour. I need hardly say I have a motive.
Sir Julian Twombley.
I suppose so.
Dowager.
Knowing that you were not going down to Browning Street this morning, and that Lady Twombley and Imogen were to take Euphemia shopping in Bond Street, I grasped the chance of seeing you alone. Julian, what has happened to your wife?
Sir Julian Twombley.
To Katherine?
Dowager.
There is a shocking change.
Sir Julian Twombley.
Recently?
Dowager.
It began two or three months ago. She’s not the woman she was at the commencement of the season.
Sir Julian Twombley.
You alarm me. In what way?
Dowager.
Every way. Her appearance.
Sir Julian Twombley.
I haven’t noticed it.
Dowager.
Being her husband, it is natural you should not. Her variable temperament! At one moment she looks as if she would like to bury everybody, me especially; the next she is laughing in a manner I must designate as positively provincial.
Sir Julian Twombley.
Dora, you quite distress me.
Dowager.
I came early for that purpose.
Sir Julian Twombley.
Thank you.
Dowager.
Perhaps you resent my interference.
Sir Julian Twombley.
No, no.
Dowager.
It would not deter me if you did. The grand motive of my life is a firm, undeviating, persistent policy of practical interference. I am a social warrior; the moment I scent domestic carnage I hurl myself into themêléeand plant my flag. Julian, my flag is planted in your household.
Sir Julian Twombley.
But I am aware of nothing disquieting to Katherine’s peace of mind.
Dowager.
Don’t tell me!
Sir Julian Twombley.
Two or three months ago therewasa little difficulty——
Dowager.
Ah!
Sir Julian Twombley.
But it was mine, not Katherine’s.
Dowager.
Yours?
Sir Julian Twombley.
Frankly, I was embarrassed for ready money.
Dowager.
Oh, dear!
Sir Julian Twombley.
But Katherine, who is really of an extremely thrifty nature, promptly placed her very considerable savings at my disposal, and the difficulty ceased.
Dowager.
It never struck me your wife was thrifty.
Sir Julian Twombley.
Nor me till that moment. Which shows how liable the most careful observer is to error. [Resuming the study of his speech.] Pray excuse me.
Dowager.
[To herself.] Um! [She goes up to the window.]
Sir Julian Twombley.
[Studying.] “I can conceive no position more agreeable to a Minister of theCrown——”I’ll go upstairs, quietly.“——thanthat which I occupy upon this occasion.”
[He moves softly toward the door. TheDowagerturns suddenly.]
Dowager.
Julian!
Sir Julian Twombley.
Dora?
Dowager.
I don’t like your wife’s great friendship for Mrs. Gaylustre.
Sir Julian Twombley.
Katherine finds her a bright companion.
Dowager.
Katherine hasmycompanionship. It’s true I can’t cut a sleeve like that lady.
Sir Julian Twombley.
It is to be regretted that poor Mrs. Gaylustre is forced to follow the modern fashion of increasing her income by devices formerly practised only by the lower middle-classes.
Dowager.
She sticks pins in her bosom as though she relished it.
Sir Julian Twombley.
But, after all, Dora, Madame Mauricette, of Plunkett Street, and Mrs. Gaylustre, widow of Lord Bulpitt’s son, are two very distinct persons. Excuse me. [He continues studying his speech.]
Dowager.
But what was shebeforeher marriage?
Sir Julian Twombley.
You must really give me notice of that question—I beg your pardon—I don’t know.
Dowager.
This lady now walks into your house as if it were her own!
Sir Julian Twombley.
Ah!
Dowager.
Your wife is positively canvassing for invitations for her! Julian!
Sir Julian Twombley.
I shall be unprepared with my speech!
Dowager.
My family comes before everything!
[Probynenters.]
Probyn.
Lord and Lady Drumdurris are inquiring for you, my lady.
Dowager.
Beg them to come here. [Probynretires.]
Sir Julian Twombley.
Ah, then, if you’ll allow me——
Dowager.
No, Julian. This is another family matter of terrible importance.
Sir Julian Twombley.
My dear Dora!
Dowager.
Keith and Egidia approach you at this early hour at my instigation. I have a painful motive.
Sir Julian Twombley.
Oh, dear me!
[Egidiaenters, dressed in fashionable walking costume, her face pale and troubled.]
Egidia.
[Sadly.] Sir Julian.
Sir Julian Twombley.
My dear Egidia, there is nothing amiss, I hope?
Egidia.
Ah! Everything is amiss, Sir Julian.
Dowager.
Julian, the relations between my son and his wife have become terribly strained.
Sir Julian Twombley.
No, no!
Egidia.
Indeed, yes!
Dowager.
I have done all in my power to relieve the horrible tension—if anything, I have made matters worse. My hope is now centred in you. Here is Keith.
Egidia.
Ah!
[Egidiasits upon a settee staring before her.Drumdurrisenters, looking much worried.]
Earl of Drumdurris.
Ah, mother. [GraspingSir Julian’shand with feeling.] Sir Julian.
[He and his wife look severely at one another and draw themselves up.]
Sir Julian Twombley.
My dear Keith, what can I do for you?
Earl of Drumdurris.
Ha! Explain, mother.
Dowager.
Julian, my son and his wife have cordially agreed to refer their grave differences to your judgment.
Egidia.
Without binding ourselves to abide by Sir Julian’s decision.
Earl of Drumdurris.
Naturally.
Sir Julian Twombley.
Pray tell me the cause of dispute.
Dowager.
The future of their child.
Egidia.
Ah, yes.
Dowager.
The adjustment of the career he is to follow.
Earl of Drumdurris.
That is precisely it.
Dowager.
[ToDrumdurris.] Where is Fergus?
Earl of Drumdurris.
He accompanied us.
Egidia.
He is with Angèle in the next room.
Dowager.
[Calling at the door.] Angèle! Angèle!
Angèle.
[Outside.] Miladi?
Dowager.
Bring Lord Aberbrothock here.
[Angèlea French nurse, characteristically attired, enters, carrying a richly-dressed infant.DrumdurrisandEgidialook into its face together.]
Angèle.
Figurez-vous, milord, qu’il a dormi pendant tout le trajet! et puis quand je suis descendue de voiture, il s’est réveillé en pleurant ... ah mais, en pleurant!
Dowager.
Give me Lord Aberbrothock. [She takes the child from Angèle.] Wait in the next room, Angèle.
Angèle.
Yes, miladi.J’espère bien que Monsieur le Vicomte ne va plus crier, car ça pourrait faire de la peine à sa grand’maman.[Angèlegoes out.]
Dowager.
Now, Julian, this is the point. You see Fergus. Politics or the Army?
Egidia.
Politics.
Earl of Drumdurris.
The Army.
Dowager.
Pray speak, Julian.
Sir Julian Twombley.
Er—um—perhaps it would be rather precipitate——
Egidia.
I differ entirely. The child’s intelligence must be directed into a particular channel from the beginning.
Earl of Drumdurris.
In that I heartily concur. For instance, the question of toys is already most urgent.
Egidia.
He is without playthings at present, so his mind is quite open.
Dowager.
You appear to have no views, Julian.
Egidia.
Lady Drumdurris, let Sir Julian look at the height and character of Fergus’s brow.
Earl of Drumdurris.
Pray do. It’s a soldier’s forehead.
Dowager.
Julian. [She hands the infant toSir Julian.]
Sir Julian Twombley.
Thank you. Politics or the Army? [Addressing the child in his arms.] My dear Fergus, take my advice, not,notpolitics.
Egidia.
Ah!
Sir Julian Twombley.
If you attach any trifling importance to veracity as a habit,notpolitics. If you would care at any time upon any subject to form your own opinions, and having formed them, would wish to maintain them,notpolitics. If you desire to be of the smallest service to your fellow man, and if you would sleep as peacefully at sixty as you now sleep at six months,notpolitics.
Egidia.
Sir Julian!
Earl of Drumdurris.
The Army!
Egidia.
Never!
Dowager.
This is most distressing. [Calling at the open door.] Angèle! Angèle!
Lady Twombley.
[Heard outside.] Why, Dora!
Sir Julian Twombley.
Katherine.
[Lady Twombleyenters withImogenandLady Euphemiain walking costumes.]
Lady Twombley.
How good of you to come early! [KissingEgidia.] Egidia, dearest! [ToDrumdurris.] Good-morning, Keith. Ah! you’ve brought Fergus to see me! The angel!
[With cries of delightLady Twombley, Imogen,andLady Euphemiagather roundSir Julianand the baby.]
Lady Twombley.
The pet!
Imogen.
The mite!
Lady Euphemia Vibart.
He istoosweet!
The Three.
Oh—h—h!
[Brookeenters.]
Brooke Twombley.
[Shaking hands withDrumdurris.] Hallo, what’s the matter?
Earl of Drumdurris.
[With dignity.] They are looking at my son.
[Angèlehas entered. She takes the infant fromSir Julian.]
Lady Twombley.
We’ve enjoyed a splendid hour in Bond Street—in and out of twenty shops, eh, girls?
Lady Euphemia Vibart.
Yes, Aunt Kate.
Imogen.
Yes, mamma.
Lady Twombley.
Bought all we could think of and ordered the rest.
Sir Julian Twombley.
My dear!
Lady Twombley.
Then why don’t they abolish Bond Street? It’s the crucible of London—set your foot in it and everything about you that’s metal dissolves.
Lady Euphemia Vibart.
Aunt has beentooextravagant this morning.
Lady Twombley.
Extravagant! I! Oh, no—only I dearly wish there was no such plague as money. If the little words “thank you” were the one universal current coin, what anxieties, what cravings, what follies some poor women would be spared! Why can’t we buy choice stuffs at three-and-a-half thank-yous a yard?
Lady Euphemia Vibart.
Oh, Aunt Kate!
Imogen.
Mamma!
Lady Twombley.
It’s nothing to laugh at. Ah, girls, if “thank you” paid for everything, being out of breath would be our only bankruptcy! Oh, my poor brain!
Imogen.
[ToSir Julian.] Mamma has a bad headache to-day, papa.
Lady Twombley.
A headache! never! Girls, what is it we bought and brought home with us? I forget.
Imogen.
We didn’t buy him, mamma—we met him. You mean Cousin Valentine.
Lady Twombley.
[Looking round.] Of course—Valentine. Where is he? [Calling.] Valentine!
[Valentineenters very plainly dressed.]
Sir Julian Twombley.
Mr. White! [Bowing stiffly.] How do you do?
Brooke Twombley.
Why, Val! What?
Lady Twombley.
We met the poor boy outside the tourists’ ticket office in Piccadilly. He’s off again to-morrow.
Brooke Twombley.
Off! Where to?
Valentine White.
Egypt.
Lady Twombley.
We shan’t see him again for another ten years, I suppose.
Imogen.
Oh, mamma!
Lady Twombley.
The odd creature has heard of a congenial tribe who reside in excavations cut in a rock. It’ll end in my having a nephew who’s a mummy.
Imogen.
[Tearfully.] Oh, don’t!
Sir Julian Twombley.
Katherine, this child is not well.
Imogen.
Yes, I am, papa—but I don’t like—the idea—of parting—with anybody or anything—even a k-k-kitten.
Lady Twombley.
[Soothingly.] Imogen, my dear!
Imogen.
Be quiet, mamma!
[TheDowager,Lady Euphemia,Egidia,andAngèlewith the baby go out.Imogenruns after them.Sir Julianresumes the study of his speech.Lady Twombleyopens some letters which are lying on the table.]
Brooke Twombley.
[ToValentine.] I never knew such a queer chap! Come upstairs and tell us all about it—what!
[Brooke,Valentine,andDrumdurrisgo out.]
Lady Twombley.
Oh!
Sir Julian Twombley.
Katherine?
Lady Twombley.
It’s all right, pa—it’s nothing. [To herself.] Gaylustre! [Reading a letter.] “I will accompany you and dear Sir Julian to the interesting ceremony of this morning. Pray keep me a seat in your carriage.” [Crushing the letter in her hand.] The demon! The relentless demon!
Sir Julian Twombley.
“I can conceive no position more agreeable to a Minister of the Crown——”
Lady Twombley.
Pa, dear, Mrs. Gaylustre will go with us to the opening of the new street.
Sir Julian Twombley.
H’m! Katherine, are you sure that Mrs. Gaylustre isquite——
Lady Twombley.
Oh, quite.
Sir Julian Twombley.
If I were you I should really think twice——
Lady Twombley.
Oh, I can’t.
Sir Julian Twombley.
Can’t think twice?
Lady Twombley.
I can’t risk offending such a—dear friend.
Sir Julian Twombley.
But, Katherine——
Lady Twombley.
Understand me, pa—she will sit in our carriage.
Sir Julian Twombley.
Then understandme, Katherine, I will not have my knees cramped by a lady whose social status is equivocal.
Lady Twombley.
Ah! Julian! Don’t attempt to come between me and Mrs. Gaylustre.
Sir Julian Twombley.
Katherine!
Lady Twombley.
You will assist her into the carriage, you will help her to alight; when she arrives you will be charmed to see her, when she leaves you will be a mass of regret. You hear me!
Sir Julian Twombley.
This is a most extraordinary friendship!
Lady Twombley.
Itisan exceptional friendship. Pa, say you’re delighted this great friend of mine is to be one of us to-day.
Sir Julian Twombley.
Well, to please you, my dear, of course, I——
Lady Twombley.
Yes?
Sir Julian Twombley.
I am delighted.
Lady Twombley.
Ah!
Sir Julian Twombley.
[To himself.] I see—I see the change in my wife that Dora spoke of.
[Probynenters with cards on a salver. At the same moment theDowagerenters and looks out of the window.]
Dowager.
[To herself.] They are punctual!
Lady Twombley.
[Looking at the cards.] Lady Macphail and Sir Colin. Not at home. If ever a woman was out I am.
Dowager.
[ToProbyn.] Stop! [ToLady Twombley.] Kate, what are you doing? This visit is planned by me!
Lady Twombley.
Why?
Dowager.
I have a motive.
Lady Twombley.
Oh, Dora!
Dowager.
[ToProbyn.] Lady Twombley will see Sir Colin and Lady Macphail here. [Probyngoes out.]
Sir Julian Twombley.
Ah! then, if you’ll allow me——
Dowager.
No, Julian. This is another family matter.
Sir Julian Twombley.
Another!
Dowager.
These people have called to formally propose for the hand of Imogen.
Lady Twombley.
To propose!
Dowager.
Last night, at the ball of the Perth Highlanders, I danced the Strathspey and Reel with Sir Colin. In the excitement I wrung from him an admission of his affection.
Lady Twombley.
Pa, what shall we do?
Dowager.
Do? The head of the Clan Macphail! Eighty thousand acres! Julian?
Lady Twombley.
[To herself.] If it would provide for Imogen before the smash!
Dowager.
If Imogen is a high-minded girl she will be mad with delight.
Lady Twombley.
Will she? [To herself.] Ah! and will she learn to look down on pa and me when we’re aged paupers?
[Probynenters.]
Probyn.
Sir Colin Macphail—Lady Macphail.
[Lady Macphailenters, dressed simply and quaintly in an old-fashioned silk gown, followed closely byMacphail,whose clothes are capacious and clumsy, and who seems very ill at ease.Probynwithdraws.]
Dowager.
Dear Lady Macphail—Sir Colin!
Lady Twombley.
[Shaking hands withLady MacphailandMacphail.] How do you do? [EyeingMacphail.] Oh, dear!
Sir Julian Twombley.
[Shaking hands.] Delighted.
Lady Twombley.
[ToMacphail.] Pray sit down. You must be fatigued with last night’s dance.
Lady Macphail.
No Macphail is ever fatigued. But the poor lad feels like a caged eagle in the dress of the South.
Lady Twombley.
I am sure it is—most becoming.
Lady Macphail.
Sit, lad. [Macphailsits, hitching up his trousers unhappily.] You know the object of our visit, Sir Julian?
Sir Julian Twombley.
Lady Drumdurris has hinted——
Lady Macphail.
The boy is here to pour out the passionate torrent of his love for your child Imogen. Speak, Colin.
[Macphailrouses himself, rises, and looks round.]
Macphail.
Mother, you do it. [He resumes his seat.]
Lady Macphail.
Ah, if we were at Castle Ballocheevin, with the wind roaring round Ben Muchty, and the sound of the pipers playing by the shores of Loch-na-Doich, then you would hear Colin’s voice rise loud and high.
Sir Julian Twombley.
As we are denied these obvious advantages, it is almost necessary to ask you to explain——
Lady Macphail.
The lad has met your child on but three or four occasions.
Macphail.
Just three occasions and a bit, mother.
Lady Macphail.
But he loves her with a love that only a Macphail can experience.
Lady Twombley.
Of course one would like to know precisely the kind of affection that is.
Lady Macphail.
Naturally. Speak, Colin.
[Macphailrises, embarrassed.]
Macphail.
I love her well enough.
Lady Macphail.
Bravely said!
Dowager.
Delightful. [ToSir JulianandLady Macphail.] A grand nature.
Lady Macphail.
Go on, Colin.
Macphail.
That’s all, mother. [He resumes his seat.]
Lady Macphail.
[ToLady Twombley.] You have heard the lad?
Lady Twombley.
Distinctly.
Lady Macphail.
As we are all to meet next month as Lord Drumdurris’s guests at Drumdurris Castle, it would be well if this engagement were settled at once.
Dowager.
Without delay.
Sir Julian Twombley.
The question, of course, is whether Imogen—h’m!
Lady Twombley.
Whether Imogen can return the affection——
Sir Julian Twombley.
Which Sir Colin honours her by entertaining.
Lady Macphail.
Has the lad your permission to pour into her ear such impassioned words as he has just uttered to us?
Lady Twombley.
I think there can be no objection tothat.
Dowager.
Certainly not.
Lady Macphail.
When will your daughter grant him an hour for that purpose?
Lady Twombley.
Anhour?
Macphail.
Three-quarters will be enough, mother.
Lady Macphail.
Bravely said!
Dowager.
Charming!
Lady Twombley.
When, Julian?
Sir Julian Twombley.
H’m! when?
Dowager.
When? [Imogen’svoice is heard outside.]
Imogen.
[Calling.] Mamma, dear!
Dowager.
When? I suggest, now. Here is Imogen.
[Macphailrises hastily and awkwardly.Imogenenters.]
Imogen.
Oh, I didn’t know you had visitors. [Shaking hands withSir ColinandLady Macphail.] Sir Colin—Lady Macphail.
Dowager.
Now, Julian, leave them together! Katherine!
Sir Julian Twombley.
Imogen, my dear.
[Imogencomes toSir Julian.Lady Twombley,theDowager,Lady Macphail,andMacphailtalk together.]
Sir Julian Twombley.
Talk to Sir Colin for a few moments while I look through my speech.
Imogen.
Certainly, papa. [Sir Juliangoes out.] What an awful task! [Taking a book from the table.]