Footman.Yes, sir.Arnold.Tell Mr. Luton to come here at once.Elizabeth.Ask Mr. Luton if he wouldn’t mind coming here for a moment.Footman.Very good, madam.[ExitFootman.Elizabeth.What are you going to say to him?Arnold.That’s my business.Elizabeth.I wouldn’t make a scene if I were you.Arnold.I’m not going to make a scene.[They wait in silence.Why did you insist on my mother coming here?Elizabeth.It seemed to me rather absurd to take up the attitude that I should be contaminated by her when . . .Arnold.[Interrupting.] When you were proposing to do exactly the same thing. Well, now you’ve seen her what do you think of her? Do you think it’s been a success? Is that the sort of woman a man would like his mother to be?Elizabeth.I’ve been ashamed. I’ve been so sorry. It all seemed dreadful and horrible. This morning I happened to notice a rose in the garden. It was all overblown and bedraggled. It looked like a painted old woman. And I remembered that I’d looked at it a dayor two ago. It was lovely then, fresh and blooming and fragrant. It may be hideous now, but that doesn’t take away from the beauty it had once. That was real.Arnold.Poetry, by God! As if this were the moment for poetry![Teddiecomes in. He has changed into a dinner jacket.Teddie.[ToElizabeth.] Did you want me?Arnold.Isent for you.[Teddielooks fromArnoldtoElizabeth.He sees that something has happened.When would it be convenient for you to leave this house?Teddie.I was proposing to go to-morrow morning. But I can very well go at once if you like.Arnold.I do like.Teddie.Very well. Is there anything else you wish to say to me?Arnold.Do you think it was a very honourable thing to come down here and make love to my wife?Teddie.No, I don’t. I haven’t been very happy about it. That’s why I wanted to go away.Arnold.Upon my word you’re cool.Teddie.I’m afraid it’s no good saying I’m sorry and that sort of thing. You know what the situation is.Arnold.Is it true that you want to marry Elizabeth?Teddie.Yes. I should like to marry her as soon as ever I can.Arnold.Have you thought of me at all? Has it struck you that you’re destroying my home and breaking up my happiness?Teddie.I don’t see how there could be much happiness for you if Elizabeth doesn’t care for you.Arnold.Let me tell you that I refuse to have my home broken up by a twopenny-halfpenny adventurer who takes advantage of a foolish woman. I refuse to allow myself to be divorced. I can’t prevent my wife from going off with you if she’s determined to make a damned fool ofherself, but this I tell you: nothing will induce me to divorce her.Elizabeth.Arnold, that would be monstrous.Teddie.We could force you.Arnold.How?Teddie.If we went away together openly you’d have to bring an action.Arnold.Twenty-four hours after you leave this house I shall go down to Brighton with a chorus-girl. And neither you nor I will be able to get a divorce. We’ve had enough divorces in our family. And now get out, get out, get out![Teddielooks uncertainly atElizabeth.Elizabeth.[With a little smile.] Don’t bother about me. I shall be all right.Arnold.Get out! Get out!END OF THE SECOND ACTTHE THIRD ACTThe Scene is the same as in the preceding Acts.It is the night of the same day as that on which takes place the action of the second Act.Champion-CheneyandArnold,both in dinner jackets, are discovered.Champion-Cheneyis seated.Arnoldwalks restlessly up and down the room.C.-C.I think, if you’ll follow my advice to the letter, you’ll probably work the trick.Arnold.I don’t like it, you know. It’s against all my principles.C.-C.My dear Arnold, we all hope that you have before you a distinguished political career. You can’t learn too soon that the most useful thing about a principle is that it can always be sacrificed to expediency.Arnold.But supposing it doesn’t come off? Women are incalculable.C.-C.Nonsense! Men are romantic. A woman will always sacrifice herself if you give her the opportunity. It is her favourite form of self-indulgence.Arnold.I never know whether you’re a humorist or a cynic, father.C.-C.I’m neither, my dear boy; I’m merely a very truthful man. But people are so unused to the truth that they’re apt to mistake it for a joke or a sneer.Arnold.[Irritably.] It seems so unfair that this should happen to me.C.-C.Keep your head, my boy, and do what I tell you.[Lady KittyandElizabethcome in.Lady Kittyis in a gorgeous evening gown.Elizabeth.Where is Lord Porteous?C.-C.He’s on the terrace. He’s smoking a cigar. [Going to window.] Hughie![Porteouscomes in.Porteous.[With a grunt.] Yes? Where’s Mrs. Shenstone?Elizabeth.Oh, she had a headache. She’s gone to bed.[WhenPorteouscomes inLady Kittywith a very haughty air purses her lips and takes up an illustrated paper.Porteousgives her an irritated look, takes another illustrated paper and sits himself down at the other end of the room. They are not on speaking terms.C.-C.Arnold and I have just been down to my cottage.Elizabeth.I wondered where you’d gone.C.-C.I came across an old photograph album this afternoon. I meant to bring it along before dinner, but I forgot, so we went and fetched it.Elizabeth.Oh, do let me see it! I love old photographs.[He gives her the album, and she, sitting down, puts it on her knees and begins to turn over the pages. He stands over her.Lady KittyandPorteoustake surreptitious glances at one another.C.-C.I thought it might amuse you to see what pretty women looked like five-and-thirty years ago. That was the day of beautiful women.Elizabeth.Do you think they were more beautiful then than they are now?C.-C.Oh, much. Now you see lots of pretty little things, but very few beautiful women.Elizabeth.Aren’t their clothes funny?C.-C.[Pointing to a photograph.] That’s Mrs. Langtry.Elizabeth.She has a lovely nose.C.-C.She was the most wonderful thing you ever saw. Dowagers used to jump on chairs in order to geta good look at her when she came into a drawing-room. I was riding with her once, and we had to have the gates of the livery stable closed when she was getting on her horse because the crowd was so great.Elizabeth.And who’s that?C.-C.Lady Lonsdale. That’s Lady Dudley.Elizabeth.This is an actress, isn’t it?C.-C.It is, indeed. Ellen Terry. By George! how I loved that woman!Elizabeth.[With a smile.] Dear Ellen Terry!C.-C.That’s Bwabs. I never saw a smarter man in my life. And Oliver Montagu. Henry Manners with his eye-glass.Elizabeth.Nice-looking, isn’t he? And this?C.-C.That’s Mary Anderson. I wish you could have seen her in “A Winter’s Tale.” Her beauty just took your breath away. And look! There’s Lady Randolph. Bernal Osborne—the wittiest man I ever knew.Elizabeth.I think it’s too sweet. I love their absurd bustles and those tight sleeves.C.-C.What figures they had! In those days a woman wasn’t supposed to be as thin as a rail and as flat as a pancake.Elizabeth.Oh, but aren’t they laced in? How could they bear it?C.-C.They didn’t play golf then, and nonsense like that, you know. They hunted, in a tall hat and a long black habit, and they were very gracious and charitable to the poor in the village.Elizabeth.Did the poor like it?C.-C.They had a very thin time if they didn’t. When they were in London they drove in the Park every afternoon, and they went to ten-course dinners, where they never met anybody they didn’t know. And they had their box at the opera when Patti was singing or Madame Albani.Elizabeth.Oh, what a lovely little thing! Who on earth is that?C.-C.That?Elizabeth.She looks so fragile, like a piece of exquisite china, with all those furs on and her face up against her muff, and the snow falling.C.-C.Yes, there was quite a rage at that time for being taken in an artificial snowstorm.Elizabeth.What a sweet smile, so roguish and frank, and debonair! Oh, I wish I looked like that! Do tell me who it is!C.-C.Don’t you know?Elizabeth.No.C.-C.Why—it’s Kitty.Elizabeth.Lady Kitty! [ToLady Kitty.] Oh, my dear, do look! It’s too ravishing. [She takes the album over to her impulsively.] Why didn’t you tell me you looked like that? Everybody must have been in love with you.[Lady Kittytakes the album and looks at it. Then she lets it slip from her hands and covers her face with her hands. She is crying.[In consternation.] My dear, what’s the matter? Oh, what have I done? I’m so sorry.Lady Kitty.Don’t, don’t talk to me. Leave me alone. It’s stupid of me.[Elizabethlooks at her for a moment perplexed, then, turning round, slips her arm inChampion-Cheney’sand leads him out on to the terrace.Elizabeth.[As they are going, in a whisper.] Did you do that on purpose?[Porteousgets up and goes over toLady Kitty.He puts his hand on her shoulder. They remain thus for a little while.Porteous.I’m afraid I was very rude to you before dinner, Kitty.Lady Kitty.[Taking his hand which is on her shoulder.] It doesn’t matter. I’m sure I was very exasperating.Porteous.I didn’t mean what I said, you know.Lady Kitty.Neither did I.Porteous.Of course I know that I’d never have been Prime Minister.Lady Kitty.How can you talk such nonsense, Hughie? No one would have had a chance if you’d remained in politics.Porteous.I haven’t the character.Lady Kitty.You have more character than anyone I’ve ever met.Porteous.Besides, I don’t know that I much wanted to be Prime Minister.Lady Kitty.Oh, but I should have been so proud of you. Of course you’d have been Prime Minister.Porteous.I’d have given you India, you know. I think it would have been a very popular appointment.Lady Kitty.I don’t care twopence about India. I’d have been quite content with Western Australia.Porteous.My dear, you don’t think I’d have let you bury yourself in Western Australia?Lady Kitty.Or Barbadoes.Porteous.Never. It sounds like a cure for flat feet. I’d have kept you in London.[He picks up the album and is about to look at the photograph ofLady Kitty.She puts her hand over it.Lady Kitty.No, don’t look.[He takes her hand away.Porteous.Don’t be so silly.Lady Kitty.Isn’t it hateful to grow old?Porteous.You know, you haven’t changed much.Lady Kitty.[Enchanted.] Oh, Hughie, how can you talk such nonsense?Porteous.Of course you’re a little more mature, but that’s all. A woman’s all the better for being rather mature.Lady Kitty.Do you really think that?Porteous.Upon my soul I do.Lady Kitty.You’re not saying it just to please me?Porteous.No, no.Lady Kitty.Let me look at the photograph again.[She takes the album and looks at the photograph complacently.The fact is, if your bones are good, age doesn’t really matter. You’ll always be beautiful.Porteous.[With a little smile, almost as if he were talking to a child.] It was silly of you to cry.Lady Kitty.It hasn’t made my eyelashes run, has it?Porteous.Not a bit.Lady Kitty.It’s very good stuff I use now. They don’t stick together either.Porteous.Look here, Kitty, how much longer do you want to stay here?Lady Kitty.Oh, I’m quite ready to go whenever you like.Porteous.Clive gets on my nerves. I don’t like the way he keeps hanging about you.Lady Kitty.[Surprised, rather amused, and delighted.] Hughie, you don’t mean to say you’re jealous of poor Clive?Porteous.Of course I’m not jealous of him, but he does look at you in a way that I can’t help thinking rather objectionable.Lady Kitty.Hughie, you may throw me downstairs like Amy Robsart; you may drag me about the floor by the hair of my head; I don’t care, you’re jealous. I shall never grow old.Porteous.Damn it all, the man was your husband.Lady Kitty.My dear Hughie, he never had your style. Why, the moment you come into a room everyone looks and says: “Who the devil is that?”Porteous.What? You think that, do you? Well, I daresay there’s something in what you say. These damned Radicals can say what they like, but, by God, Kitty! when a man’s a gentleman—well, damn it all, you know what I mean.Lady Kitty.I think Clive has degenerated dreadfully since we left him.Porteous.What do you say to making a bee-line for Italy and going to San Michele?Lady Kitty.Oh, Hughie! It’s years since we were there.Porteous.Wouldn’t you like to see it again—just once more?Lady Kitty.Do you remember the first time we went? It was the most heavenly place I’d ever seen. We’d only left England a month, and I said I’d like to spend all my life there.Porteous.Of course I remember. And in a fortnight it was yours, lock, stock and barrel.Lady Kitty.We were very happy there, Hughie.Porteous.Let’s go back once more.Lady Kitty.I daren’t. It must be all peopled with the ghosts of our past. One should never go again to a place where one has been happy. It would break my heart.Porteous.Do you remember how we used to sit on the terrace of the old castle and look at the Adriatic? We might have been the only people in the world, you and I, Kitty.Lady Kitty.[Tragically.] And we thought our love would last for ever.[EnterChampion-Cheney.Porteous.Is there any chance of bridge this evening?C.-C.I don’t think we can make up a four.Porteous.What a nuisance that boy went away like that! He wasn’t a bad player.C.-C.Teddie Luton?Lady Kitty.I think it was very funny his going without saying good-bye to anyone.C.-C.The young men of the present day are very casual.Porteous.I thought there was no train in the evening.C.-C.There isn’t. The last train leaves at 5.45.Porteous.How did he go then?C.-C.He went.Porteous.Damned selfish I call it.Lady Kitty.[Intrigued.] Why did he go, Clive?[Champion-Cheneylooks at her for a moment reflectively.C.-C.I have something very grave to say to you. Elizabeth wants to leave Arnold.Lady Kitty.Clive! What on earth for?C.-C.She’s in love with Teddie Luton. That’s why he went. The men of my family are really very unfortunate.Porteous.Does she want to run away with him?Lady Kitty.[With consternation.] My dear, what’s to be done?C.-C.I think you can do a great deal.Lady Kitty.I? What?C.-C.Tell her, tell her what it means.[He looks at her fixedly. She stares at him.Lady Kitty.Oh, no, no!C.-C.She’s a child. Not for Arnold’s sake. For her sake. You must.Lady Kitty.You don’t know what you’re asking.C.-C.Yes, I do.Lady Kitty.Hughie, what shall I do?Porteous.Do what you like. I shall never blame you for anything.[TheFootmancomes in with a letter on a salver. He hesitates on seeing thatElizabethis not in the room.C.-C.What is it?Footman.I was looking for Mrs. Champion-Cheney, sir.C.-C.She’s not here. Is that a letter?Footman.Yes, sir. It’s just been sent up from the “Champion Arms.”C.-C.Leave it. I’ll give it to Mrs. Cheney.Footman.Very good, sir.[He brings the tray toClive,who takes the letter. TheFootmangoes out.Porteous.Is the “Champion Arms” the local pub?C.-C.[Looking at the letter.] It’s by way of being a hotel, but I never heard of anyone staying there.Lady Kitty.If there was no train I suppose he had to go there.C.-C.Great minds. I wonder what he has to write about! [He goes to the door leading on to the garden.] Elizabeth!Elizabeth.[Outside.] Yes.C.-C.Here’s a note for you.[There is silence. They wait forElizabethto come. She enters.Elizabeth.It’s lovely in the garden to-night.C.-C.They’ve just sent this up from the “Champion Arms.”Elizabeth.Thank you.[Without embarrassment she opens the letter. They watch her while she reads it. It covers three pages. She puts it away in her bag.Lady Kitty.Hughie, I wish you’d fetch me a cloak. I’d like to take a little stroll in the garden, but after thirty years in Italy I find these English summers rather chilly.[Without a wordPorteousgoes out.Elizabethis lost in thought.I want to talk to Elizabeth, Clive.C.-C.I’ll leave you.[He goes out.Lady Kitty.What does he say?Elizabeth.Who?Lady Kitty.Mr. Luton.Elizabeth.[Gives a little start. Then she looks atLady Kitty.] They’ve told you?Lady Kitty.Yes. And now they have I think I knew it all along.Elizabeth.I don’t expect you to have much sympathy for me. Arnold is your son.Lady Kitty.So pitifully little.Elizabeth.I’m not suited for this sort of existence. Arnold wants me to take what he calls my place in Society. Oh, I get so bored with those parties in London. All those middle-aged painted women, in beautiful clothes, lolloping round ball-rooms with rather old young men. And the endless luncheons where they gossip about so-and-so’s love affairs.Lady Kitty.Are you very much in love with Mr. Luton?Elizabeth.I love him with all my heart.Lady Kitty.And he?Elizabeth.He’s never cared for anyone but me. He never will.Lady Kitty.Will Arnold let you divorce him?Elizabeth.No, he won’t hear of it. He refuses even to divorce me.Lady Kitty.Why?Elizabeth.He thinks a scandal will revive all the old gossip.Lady Kitty.Oh, my poor child!Elizabeth.It can’t be helped. I’m quite willing to accept the consequences.Lady Kitty.You don’t know what it is to have a man tied to you only by his honour. When married people don’t get on they can separate, but if they’re not married it’s impossible. It’s a tie that only death can sever.Elizabeth.If Teddie stopped caring for me I shouldn’t want him to stay with me for five minutes.Lady Kitty.One says that when one’s sure of a man’s love, but when one isn’t any more—oh, it’s so different. In those circumstances one’s got to keep a man’s love. It’s the only thing one has.Elizabeth.I’m a human being. I can stand on my own feet.Lady Kitty.Have you any money of your own?Elizabeth.None.Lady Kitty.Then how can you stand on your own feet? You think I’m a silly, frivolous woman, but I’ve learned something in a bitter school. They can make what laws they like, they can give us the suffrage, but when you come down to bedrock it’s the man who pays the piper who calls the tune. Woman will only be the equal of man when she earns her living in the same way that he does.Elizabeth.[Smiling.] It sounds rather funny to hear you talk like that.Lady Kitty.A cook who marries a butler can snap her fingers in his face because she can earn just as much as he can. But a woman in your position and a woman in mine will always be dependent on the men who keep them.Elizabeth.I don’t want luxury. You don’t know how sick I am of all this beautiful furniture. These over-decorated houses are like a prison in which I can’t breathe. When I drive about in a Callot frock and a Rolls-Royce I envy the shop-girl in a coat and skirt whom I see jumping on the tailboard of a bus.Lady Kitty.You mean that if need be you could earn your own living?Elizabeth.Yes.Lady Kitty.What could you be? A nurse or a typist. It’s nonsense. Luxury saps a woman’s nerve. And when she’s known it once it becomes a necessity.Elizabeth.That depends on the woman.Lady Kitty.When we’re young we think we’re different from everyone else, but when we grow a little older we discover we’re all very much of a muchness.Elizabeth.You’re very kind to take so much trouble about me.Lady Kitty.It breaks my heart to think that you’re going to make the same pitiful mistake that I made.Elizabeth.Oh, don’t say it was that, don’t, don’t.Lady Kitty.Look at me, Elizabeth, and look at Hughie. Do you think it’s been a success? If I had my time over again do you think I’d do it again? Do you think he would?Elizabeth.You see, you don’t know how much I love Teddie.Lady Kitty.And do you think I didn’t love Hughie? Do you think he didn’t love me?Elizabeth.I’m sure he did.Lady Kitty.Oh, of course in the beginning it was heavenly. We felt so brave and adventurous and we were so much in love. The first two years were wonderful. People cut me, you know, but I didn’t mind. I thought love was everything. Itisa little uncomfortable when you come upon an old friend and go towards her eagerly, so glad to see her, and are met with an icy stare.Elizabeth.Do you think friends like that are worth having?Lady Kitty.Perhaps they’re not very sure of themselves. Perhaps they’re honestly shocked. It’s a test one had better not put one’s friends to if one can help it. It’s rather bitter to find how few one has.Elizabeth.But one has some.Lady Kitty.Yes, they ask you to come and see them when they’re quite certain no one will be there who might object to meeting you. Or else they say to you: “My dear, you know I’m devoted to you, and I wouldn’t mind at all, but my girl’s growing up—I’m sure you understand; you won’t think it unkind of me if I don’t ask you to the house?”Elizabeth.[Smiling.] That doesn’t seem to me very serious.Lady Kitty.At first I thought it rather a relief, because it threw Hughie and me together more. But you know, men are very funny. Even when they are in love they’re not in love all day long. They want change and recreation.Elizabeth.I’m not inclined to blame them for that, poor dears.Lady Kitty.Then we settled in Florence. And because we couldn’t get the society we’d been used to we became used to the society we could get. Loose women and vicious men. Snobs who liked to patronise people with a handle to their names. Vague Italian Princes who were glad to borrow a few francs from Hughie and seedy countesses who liked to drive with me in the Cascine. And then Hughie began to hanker after his old life. He wanted to go big game shooting, but I dared not let him go. I was afraid he’d never come back.Elizabeth.But you knew he loved you.Lady Kitty.Oh, my dear, what a blessed institution marriage is—for women, and what fools they are to meddle with it! The Church is so wise to take its stand on the indi—indi—Elizabeth.Solu—Lady Kitty.Bility of marriage. Believe me, it’s no joke when you have to rely only on yourself to keep a man. I could never afford to grow old. My dear, I’ll tell you a secret that I’ve never told a living soul.Elizabeth.What is that?Lady Kitty.My hair is not naturally this colour.Elizabeth.Really.Lady Kitty.I touch it up. You would never have guessed, would you?Elizabeth.Never.Lady Kitty.Nobody does. My dear, it’s white, prematurely of course, but white. I always think it’s a symbol of my life. Are you interested in symbolism? I think it’s too wonderful.Elizabeth.I don’t think I know very much about it.Lady Kitty.However tired I’ve been I’ve had to be brilliant and gay. I’ve never let Hughie see the aching heart behind my smiling eyes.Elizabeth.[Amused and touched.] You poor dear.Lady Kitty.And when I saw he was attracted by some one else the fear and the jealousy that seized me! You see, I didn’t dare make a scene as I should have done if I’d been married—I had to pretend not to notice.Elizabeth.[Taken aback.] But do you mean to say he fell in love with anyone else?Lady Kitty.Of course he did eventually.Elizabeth.[Hardly knowing what to say.] You must have been very unhappy.Lady Kitty.Oh, I was, dreadfully. Night after night I sobbed my heart out when Hughie told me he was going to play cards at the club and I knew he was with that odious woman. Of course, it wasn’t as if there weren’t plenty of men who were only too anxious to console me. Men have always been attracted by me, you know.Elizabeth.Oh, of course, I can quite understand it.Lady Kitty.But I had my self-respect to think of. I felt that whatever Hughie did I would do nothing that I should regret.Elizabeth.You must be very glad now.Lady Kitty.Oh, yes. Notwithstanding all my temptations I’ve been absolutely faithful to Hughie in spirit.Elizabeth.I don’t think I quite understand what you mean.Lady Kitty.Well, there was a poor Italian boy, young Count Castel Giovanni, who was so desperately in love with me that his mother begged me not to be too cruel. She was afraid he’d go into a consumption. What could I do? And then, oh, years later, there was Antonio Melita. He said he’d shoot himself unless I—well, you understand I couldn’t let the poor boy shoot himself.Elizabeth.D’you think he really would have shot himself?Lady Kitty.Oh, one never knows, you know. Those Italians are so passionate. He was really rather a lamb. He had such beautiful eyes.[Elizabethlooks at her for a long time and acertain horror seizes her of this dissolute, painted old woman.Elizabeth.[Hoarsely.] Oh, but I think that’s—dreadful.Lady Kitty.Are you shocked? One sacrifices one’s life for love and then one finds that love doesn’t last. The tragedy of love isn’t death or separation. One gets over them. The tragedy of love is indifference.[Arnoldcomes in.Arnold.Can I have a little talk with you, Elizabeth?Elizabeth.Of course.Arnold.Shall we go for a stroll in the garden?Elizabeth.If you like.Lady Kitty.No, stay here. I’m going out anyway.[ExitLady Kitty.Arnold.I want you to listen to me for a few minutes, Elizabeth. I was so taken aback by what you told me just now that I lost my head. I was rather absurd and I beg your pardon. I said things I regret.Elizabeth.Oh, don’t blame yourself. I’m sorry that I should have given you occasion to say them.Arnold.I want to ask you if you’ve quite made up your mind to go.Elizabeth.Quite.Arnold.Just now I seem to have said all that I didn’t want to say and nothing that I did. I’m stupid and tongue-tied. I never told you how deeply I loved you.Elizabeth.Oh, Arnold!Arnold.Please let me speak now. It’s so very difficult. If I seemed absorbed in politics and the house, and so on, to the exclusion of my interest in you, I’m dreadfully sorry. I suppose it was absurd of me to think you would take my great love for granted.Elizabeth.But, Arnold, I’m not reproaching you.Arnold.I’m reproaching myself. I’ve been tactless and neglectful. But I do ask you to believe that it hasn’t been because I didn’t love you. Can you forgive me?Elizabeth.I don’t think that there’s anything to forgive.Arnold.It wasn’t till to-day when you talked of leaving me that I realised how desperately in love with you I was.Elizabeth.After three years?Arnold.I’m so proud of you. I admire you so much. When I see you at a party, so fresh and lovely, and everybody wondering at you, I have a sort of little thrill because you’re mine, and afterwards I shall take you home.Elizabeth.Oh, Arnold, you’re exaggerating.Arnold.I can’t imagine this house without you. Life seems on a sudden all empty and meaningless. Oh, Elizabeth, don’t you love me at all?Elizabeth.It’s much better to be honest. No.Arnold.Doesn’t my love mean anything to you?Elizabeth.I’m very grateful to you. I’m sorry to cause you pain. What would be the good of my staying with you when I should be wretched all the time?Arnold.Do you love that man as much as all that? Does my unhappiness mean nothing to you?Elizabeth.Of course it does. It breaks my heart. You see, I never knew I meant so much to you. I’m so touched. And I’m so sorry, Arnold, really sorry. But I can’t help myself.Arnold.Poor child, it’s cruel of me to torture you.Elizabeth.Oh, Arnold, believe me, I have tried to make the best of it. I’ve tried to love you, but I can’t. After all, one either loves or one doesn’t. Trying is no help. And now I’m at the end of my tether. I can’t help the consequences—I must do what my whole self yearns for.Arnold.My poor child, I’m so afraid you’ll be unhappy. I’m so afraid you’ll regret.Elizabeth.You must leave me to my fate. I hope you’ll forget me and all the unhappiness I’ve caused you.Arnold.[There is a pause.Arnoldwalks up anddown the room reflectively. He stops and faces her.] If you love this man and want to go to him I’ll do nothing to prevent you. My only wish is to do what is best for you.Elizabeth.Arnold, that’s awfully kind of you. If I’m treating you badly at least I want you to know that I’m grateful for all your kindness to me.Arnold.But there’s one favour I should like you to do me. Will you?Elizabeth.Oh, Arnold, of course I’ll do anything I can.Arnold.Teddie hasn’t very much money. You’ve been used to a certain amount of luxury, and I can’t bear to think that you should do without anything you’ve had. It would kill me to think that you were suffering any hardship or privation.Elizabeth.Oh, but Teddie can earn enough for our needs. After all, we don’t want much money.Arnold.I’m afraid my mother’s life hasn’t been very easy, but it’s obvious that the only thing that’s made it possible is that Porteous was rich. I want you to let me make you an allowance of two thousand a year.Elizabeth.Oh, no, I couldn’t think of it. It’s absurd.Arnold.I beg you to accept it. You don’t know what a difference it will make.Elizabeth.It’s awfully kind of you, Arnold. It humiliates me to speak about it. Nothing would induce me to take a penny from you.Arnold.Well, you can’t prevent me from opening an account at my bank in your name. The money shall be paid in every quarter whether you touch it or not, and if you happen to want it, it will be there waiting for you.Elizabeth.You overwhelm me, Arnold. There’s only one thing I want you to do for me. I should be very grateful if you would divorce me as soon as you possibly can.Arnold.No, I won’t do that. But I’ll give you cause to divorce me.Elizabeth.You!Arnold.Yes. But of course you’ll have to be very careful for a bit. I’ll put it through as quickly as possible, but I’m afraid you can’t hope to be free for over six months.Elizabeth.But, Arnold, your seat and your political career!Arnold.Oh, well, my father gave up his seat under similar circumstances. He’s got along very comfortably without politics.Elizabeth.But they’re your whole life.Arnold.After all one can’t have it both ways. You can’t serve God and Mammon. If you want to do the decent thing you have to be prepared to suffer for it.Elizabeth.But I don’t want you to suffer for it.Arnold.At first I rather hesitated at the scandal. But I daresay that was only weakness on my part. Under the circumstances I should have liked to keep out of the Divorce Court if I could.Elizabeth.Arnold, you’re making me absolutely miserable.Arnold.What you said before dinner was quite right. It’s nothing for a man, but it makes so much difference to a woman. Naturally I must think of you first.Elizabeth.That’s absurd. It’s out of the question. Whatever there’s to pay I must pay it.Arnold.It’s not very much I’m asking you, Elizabeth.Elizabeth.I’m taking everything from you.Arnold.It’s the only condition I make. My mind is absolutely made up. I will never divorce you, but I will enable you to divorce me.Elizabeth.Oh, Arnold, it’s cruel to be so generous.Arnold.It’s not generous at all. It’s the only way I have of showing you how deep and passionate and sincere my love is for you.[There is a silence. He holds out his hand.Good-night. I have a great deal of work to do before I go to bed.Elizabeth.Good-night.Arnold.Do you mind if I kiss you?Elizabeth.[With agony.] Oh, Arnold![He gravely kisses her on the forehead and then goes out.Elizabethstands lost in thought. She is shattered.Lady KittyandPorteouscome in.Lady Kittywears a cloak.Lady Kitty.You’re alone, Elizabeth?Elizabeth.That note you asked me about, Lady Kitty, from Teddie . . .Lady Kitty.Yes?Elizabeth.He wanted to have a talk with me before he went away. He’s waiting for me in the summer house by the tennis court. Would Lord Porteous mind going down and asking him to come here?Porteous.Certainly. Certainly.Elizabeth.Forgive me for troubling you. But it’s very important.Porteous.No trouble at all.[He goes out.Lady Kitty.Hughie and I will leave you alone.Elizabeth.But I don’t want to be left alone. I want you to stay.Lady Kitty.What are you going to say to him?Elizabeth.[Desperately.] Please don’t ask me questions. I’m so frightfully unhappy.Lady Kitty.My poor child!Elizabeth.Oh, isn’t life rotten? Why can’t one be happy without making other people unhappy?Lady Kitty.I wish I knew how to help you. I’m simply devoted to you. [She hunts about in her mind for something to do or say.] Would you like my lip-stick?Elizabeth.[Smiling through her tears.] Thanks. I never use one.Lady Kitty.Oh, but just try. It’s such a comfort when you’re in trouble.[EnterPorteousandTeddie.Porteous.I brought him. He said he’d be damned if he’d come.Lady Kitty.When a lady sent for him? Are these the manners of the young men of to-day?Teddie.When you’ve been solemnly kicked out of a house once I think it seems rather pushing to come back again as though nothing had happened.Elizabeth.Teddie, I want you to be serious.Teddie.Darling, I had such a rotten dinner at that pub. If you ask me to be serious on the top of that I shall cry.Elizabeth.Don’t be idiotic, Teddie. [Her voice faltering.] I’m so utterly wretched.[He looks at her for a moment gravely.Teddie.What is it?Elizabeth.I can’t come away with you, Teddie.Teddie.Why not?Elizabeth.[Looking away in embarrassment.] I don’t love you enough.Teddie.Fiddle!Elizabeth.[With a flash of anger.] Don’t say “Fiddle” to me.Teddie.I shall say exactly what I like to you.Elizabeth.I won’t be bullied.Teddie.Now look here, Elizabeth, you know perfectly well that I’m in love with you, and I know perfectly well that you’re in love with me. So what are you talking nonsense for?Elizabeth.[Her voice breaking.] I can’t say it if you’re cross with me.Teddie.[Smiling very tenderly.] I’m not cross with you, silly.Elizabeth.It’s harder still when you’re being rather an owl.Teddie.[With a chuckle.] Am I mistaken in thinking you’re not very easy to please?Elizabeth.Oh, it’s monstrous. I was all wrought upand ready to do anything, and now you’ve thoroughly put me out. I feel like a great big fat balloon that some one has put a long pin into. [With a sudden look at him.] Have you done it on purpose?Teddie.Upon my soul I don’t know what you’re talking about.Elizabeth.I wonder if you’re really much cleverer than I think you are.Teddie.[Taking her hands and making her sit down.] Now tell me exactly what you want to say. By the way, do you want Lady Kitty and Lord Porteous to be here?Elizabeth.Yes.Lady Kitty.Elizabeth asked us to stay.Teddie.Oh, I don’t mind, bless you. I only thought you might feel rather in the way.Lady Kitty.[Frigidly.] A gentlewoman never feels in the way, Mr. Luton.Teddie.Won’t you call me Teddie? Everybody does, you know.[Lady Kittytries to give him a withering look, but she finds it very difficult to prevent herself from smiling.TeddiestrokesElizabeth’shands. She draws them away.Elizabeth.No, don’t do that. Teddie, it wasn’t true when I said I didn’t love you. Of course I love you. But Arnold loves me, too. I didn’t know how much.Teddie.What has he been saying to you?Elizabeth.He’s been very good to me, and so kind. I didn’t know he could be so kind. He offered to let me divorce him.Teddie.That’s very decent of him.Elizabeth.But don’t you see, it ties my hands. How can I accept such a sacrifice? I should never forgive myself if I profited by his generosity.Teddie.If another man and I were devilish hungry and there was only one mutton chop between us, and hesaid, “You eat it,” I wouldn’t waste a lot of time arguing. I’d wolf it before he changed his mind.Elizabeth.Don’t talk like that. It maddens me. I’m trying to do the right thing.Teddie.You’re not in love with Arnold; you’re in love with me. It’s idiotic to sacrifice your life for a slushy sentiment.Elizabeth.After all, I did marry him.Teddie.Well, you made a mistake. A marriage without love is no marriage at all.Elizabeth.Imade the mistake. Why should he suffer for it? If anyone has to suffer it’s only right that I should.Teddie.What sort of a life do you think it would be with him? When two people are married it’s very difficult for one of them to be unhappy without making the other unhappy too.Elizabeth.I can’t take advantage of his generosity.Teddie.I daresay he’ll get a lot of satisfaction out of it.Elizabeth.You’re being beastly, Teddie. He was simply wonderful. I never knew he had it in him. He was really noble.Teddie.You are talking rot, Elizabeth.Elizabeth.I wonder if you’d be capable of acting like that.Teddie.Acting like what?Elizabeth.What would you do if I were married to you and came and told you I loved somebody else and wanted to leave you?Teddie.You have very pretty blue eyes, Elizabeth. I’d black first one and then the other. And after that we’d see.Elizabeth.You damned brute!Teddie.I’ve often thought I wasn’t quite a gentleman. Had it ever struck you?[They look at one another for a while.Elizabeth.You know, you are taking an unfairadvantage of me. I feel as if I came to you quite unsuspectingly and when I wasn’t looking you kicked me on the shins.Teddie.Don’t you think we’d get on rather well together?Porteous.Elizabeth’s a fool if she don’t stick to her husband. It’s bad enough for the man, but for the woman—it’s damnable. I hold no brief for Arnold. He plays bridge like a foot. Saving your presence, Kitty, I think he’s a prig.Lady Kitty.Poor dear, his father was at his age. I daresay he’ll grow out of it.Porteous.But you stick to him, Elizabeth, stick to him. Man is a gregarious animal. We’re members of a herd. If we break the herd’s laws we suffer for it. And we suffer damnably.Lady Kitty.Oh, Elizabeth, my dear child, don’t go. It’s not worth it. It’s not worth it. I tell you that, and I’ve sacrificed everything to love.[A pause.Elizabeth.I’m afraid.Teddie.[In a whisper.] Elizabeth.Elizabeth.I can’t face it. It’s asking too much of me. Let’s say good-bye to one another, Teddie. It’s the only thing to do. And have pity on me. I’m giving up all my hope of happiness.[He goes up to her and looks into her eyes.Teddie.But I wasn’t offering you happiness. I don’t think my sort of love tends to happiness. I’m jealous. I’m not a very easy man to get on with. I’m often out of temper and irritable. I should be fed to the teeth with you sometimes, and so would you be with me. I daresay we’d fight like cat and dog, and sometimes we’d hate each other. Often you’d be wretched and bored stiff and lonely, and often you’d be frightfully homesick, and then you’d regret all you’d lost. Stupid women would be rude to you because we’d run away together. And some of them wouldcut you. I don’t offer you peace and quietness. I offer you unrest and anxiety. I don’t offer you happiness. I offer you love.Elizabeth.[Stretching out her arms.] You hateful creature, I absolutely adore you![He throws his arms round her and kisses her passionately on the lips.Lady Kitty.Of course the moment he said he’d give her a black eye I knew it was finished.Porteous.[Good-humouredly.] You are a fool, Kitty.Lady Kitty.I know I am, but I can’t help it.Teddie.Let’s make a bolt for it now.Elizabeth.Shall we?Teddie.This minute.Porteous.You’re damned fools, both of you, damned fools! If you like you can have my car.Teddie.That’s awfully kind of you. As a matter of fact I got it out of the garage. It’s just along the drive.Porteous.[Indignantly.] How do you mean, you got it out of the garage?Teddie.Well, I thought there’d be a lot of bother, and it seemed to me the best thing would be for Elizabeth and me not to stand upon the order of our going, you know. Do it now. An excellent motto for a business man.Porteous.Do you mean to say you were going to steal my car?Teddie.Not exactly. I was only going to bolshevise it, so to speak.Porteous.I’m speechless. I’m absolutely speechless.Teddie.Hang it all, I couldn’t carry Elizabeth all the way to London. She’s so damned plump.Elizabeth.You dirty dog!Porteous.[Spluttering.] Well, well, well! . . . [Helplessly.] I like him, Kitty, it’s no good pretending I don’t. I like him.Teddie.The moon’s shining, Elizabeth. We’ll drive all through the night.Porteous.They’d better go to San Michele. I’ll wire to have it got ready for them.Lady Kitty.That’s where we went when Hughie and I . . . [Faltering.] Oh, you dear things, how I envy you!Porteous.[Mopping his eyes.] Now don’t cry, Kitty. Confound you, don’t cry.Teddie.Come, darling.Elizabeth.But I can’t go like this.Teddie.Nonsense! Lady Kitty will lend you her cloak. Won’t you?Lady Kitty.[Taking it off.] You’re capable of tearing it off my back if I don’t.Teddie.[Putting the cloak onElizabeth.] And we’ll buy you a tooth-brush in London in the morning.Lady Kitty.She must write a note for Arnold. I’ll put it on her pincushion.Teddie.Pincushion be blowed! Come, darling. We’ll drive through the dawn and through the sunrise.Elizabeth.[KissingLady KittyandPorteous.] Good-bye. Good-bye.[Teddiestretches out his hand and she takes it. Hand in hand they go out into the night.Lady Kitty.Oh, Hughie, how it all comes back to me! Will they suffer all we suffered? And have we suffered all in vain?Porteous.My dear, I don’t know that in life it matters so much what you do as what you are. No one can learn by the experience of another because no circumstances are quite the same. If we made rather a hash of things perhaps it was because we were rather trivial people. You can do anything in this world if you’re prepared to take the consequences, and consequences depend on character.[EnterChampion-Cheney,rubbing his hands. He is as pleased as Punch.C.-C.Well, I think I’ve settled the hash of that young man.Lady Kitty.Oh!
Footman.Yes, sir.
Arnold.Tell Mr. Luton to come here at once.
Elizabeth.Ask Mr. Luton if he wouldn’t mind coming here for a moment.
Footman.Very good, madam.
[ExitFootman.
Elizabeth.What are you going to say to him?
Arnold.That’s my business.
Elizabeth.I wouldn’t make a scene if I were you.
Arnold.I’m not going to make a scene.
[They wait in silence.
Why did you insist on my mother coming here?
Elizabeth.It seemed to me rather absurd to take up the attitude that I should be contaminated by her when . . .
Arnold.[Interrupting.] When you were proposing to do exactly the same thing. Well, now you’ve seen her what do you think of her? Do you think it’s been a success? Is that the sort of woman a man would like his mother to be?
Elizabeth.I’ve been ashamed. I’ve been so sorry. It all seemed dreadful and horrible. This morning I happened to notice a rose in the garden. It was all overblown and bedraggled. It looked like a painted old woman. And I remembered that I’d looked at it a dayor two ago. It was lovely then, fresh and blooming and fragrant. It may be hideous now, but that doesn’t take away from the beauty it had once. That was real.
Arnold.Poetry, by God! As if this were the moment for poetry!
[Teddiecomes in. He has changed into a dinner jacket.
Teddie.[ToElizabeth.] Did you want me?
Arnold.Isent for you.
[Teddielooks fromArnoldtoElizabeth.He sees that something has happened.
When would it be convenient for you to leave this house?
Teddie.I was proposing to go to-morrow morning. But I can very well go at once if you like.
Arnold.I do like.
Teddie.Very well. Is there anything else you wish to say to me?
Arnold.Do you think it was a very honourable thing to come down here and make love to my wife?
Teddie.No, I don’t. I haven’t been very happy about it. That’s why I wanted to go away.
Arnold.Upon my word you’re cool.
Teddie.I’m afraid it’s no good saying I’m sorry and that sort of thing. You know what the situation is.
Arnold.Is it true that you want to marry Elizabeth?
Teddie.Yes. I should like to marry her as soon as ever I can.
Arnold.Have you thought of me at all? Has it struck you that you’re destroying my home and breaking up my happiness?
Teddie.I don’t see how there could be much happiness for you if Elizabeth doesn’t care for you.
Arnold.Let me tell you that I refuse to have my home broken up by a twopenny-halfpenny adventurer who takes advantage of a foolish woman. I refuse to allow myself to be divorced. I can’t prevent my wife from going off with you if she’s determined to make a damned fool ofherself, but this I tell you: nothing will induce me to divorce her.
Elizabeth.Arnold, that would be monstrous.
Teddie.We could force you.
Arnold.How?
Teddie.If we went away together openly you’d have to bring an action.
Arnold.Twenty-four hours after you leave this house I shall go down to Brighton with a chorus-girl. And neither you nor I will be able to get a divorce. We’ve had enough divorces in our family. And now get out, get out, get out!
[Teddielooks uncertainly atElizabeth.
Elizabeth.[With a little smile.] Don’t bother about me. I shall be all right.
Arnold.Get out! Get out!
END OF THE SECOND ACT
The Scene is the same as in the preceding Acts.
It is the night of the same day as that on which takes place the action of the second Act.
Champion-CheneyandArnold,both in dinner jackets, are discovered.Champion-Cheneyis seated.Arnoldwalks restlessly up and down the room.
C.-C.I think, if you’ll follow my advice to the letter, you’ll probably work the trick.
Arnold.I don’t like it, you know. It’s against all my principles.
C.-C.My dear Arnold, we all hope that you have before you a distinguished political career. You can’t learn too soon that the most useful thing about a principle is that it can always be sacrificed to expediency.
Arnold.But supposing it doesn’t come off? Women are incalculable.
C.-C.Nonsense! Men are romantic. A woman will always sacrifice herself if you give her the opportunity. It is her favourite form of self-indulgence.
Arnold.I never know whether you’re a humorist or a cynic, father.
C.-C.I’m neither, my dear boy; I’m merely a very truthful man. But people are so unused to the truth that they’re apt to mistake it for a joke or a sneer.
Arnold.[Irritably.] It seems so unfair that this should happen to me.
C.-C.Keep your head, my boy, and do what I tell you.
[Lady KittyandElizabethcome in.Lady Kittyis in a gorgeous evening gown.
Elizabeth.Where is Lord Porteous?
C.-C.He’s on the terrace. He’s smoking a cigar. [Going to window.] Hughie!
[Porteouscomes in.
Porteous.[With a grunt.] Yes? Where’s Mrs. Shenstone?
Elizabeth.Oh, she had a headache. She’s gone to bed.
[WhenPorteouscomes inLady Kittywith a very haughty air purses her lips and takes up an illustrated paper.Porteousgives her an irritated look, takes another illustrated paper and sits himself down at the other end of the room. They are not on speaking terms.
C.-C.Arnold and I have just been down to my cottage.
Elizabeth.I wondered where you’d gone.
C.-C.I came across an old photograph album this afternoon. I meant to bring it along before dinner, but I forgot, so we went and fetched it.
Elizabeth.Oh, do let me see it! I love old photographs.
[He gives her the album, and she, sitting down, puts it on her knees and begins to turn over the pages. He stands over her.Lady KittyandPorteoustake surreptitious glances at one another.
C.-C.I thought it might amuse you to see what pretty women looked like five-and-thirty years ago. That was the day of beautiful women.
Elizabeth.Do you think they were more beautiful then than they are now?
C.-C.Oh, much. Now you see lots of pretty little things, but very few beautiful women.
Elizabeth.Aren’t their clothes funny?
C.-C.[Pointing to a photograph.] That’s Mrs. Langtry.
Elizabeth.She has a lovely nose.
C.-C.She was the most wonderful thing you ever saw. Dowagers used to jump on chairs in order to geta good look at her when she came into a drawing-room. I was riding with her once, and we had to have the gates of the livery stable closed when she was getting on her horse because the crowd was so great.
Elizabeth.And who’s that?
C.-C.Lady Lonsdale. That’s Lady Dudley.
Elizabeth.This is an actress, isn’t it?
C.-C.It is, indeed. Ellen Terry. By George! how I loved that woman!
Elizabeth.[With a smile.] Dear Ellen Terry!
C.-C.That’s Bwabs. I never saw a smarter man in my life. And Oliver Montagu. Henry Manners with his eye-glass.
Elizabeth.Nice-looking, isn’t he? And this?
C.-C.That’s Mary Anderson. I wish you could have seen her in “A Winter’s Tale.” Her beauty just took your breath away. And look! There’s Lady Randolph. Bernal Osborne—the wittiest man I ever knew.
Elizabeth.I think it’s too sweet. I love their absurd bustles and those tight sleeves.
C.-C.What figures they had! In those days a woman wasn’t supposed to be as thin as a rail and as flat as a pancake.
Elizabeth.Oh, but aren’t they laced in? How could they bear it?
C.-C.They didn’t play golf then, and nonsense like that, you know. They hunted, in a tall hat and a long black habit, and they were very gracious and charitable to the poor in the village.
Elizabeth.Did the poor like it?
C.-C.They had a very thin time if they didn’t. When they were in London they drove in the Park every afternoon, and they went to ten-course dinners, where they never met anybody they didn’t know. And they had their box at the opera when Patti was singing or Madame Albani.
Elizabeth.Oh, what a lovely little thing! Who on earth is that?
C.-C.That?
Elizabeth.She looks so fragile, like a piece of exquisite china, with all those furs on and her face up against her muff, and the snow falling.
C.-C.Yes, there was quite a rage at that time for being taken in an artificial snowstorm.
Elizabeth.What a sweet smile, so roguish and frank, and debonair! Oh, I wish I looked like that! Do tell me who it is!
C.-C.Don’t you know?
Elizabeth.No.
C.-C.Why—it’s Kitty.
Elizabeth.Lady Kitty! [ToLady Kitty.] Oh, my dear, do look! It’s too ravishing. [She takes the album over to her impulsively.] Why didn’t you tell me you looked like that? Everybody must have been in love with you.
[Lady Kittytakes the album and looks at it. Then she lets it slip from her hands and covers her face with her hands. She is crying.
[In consternation.] My dear, what’s the matter? Oh, what have I done? I’m so sorry.
Lady Kitty.Don’t, don’t talk to me. Leave me alone. It’s stupid of me.
[Elizabethlooks at her for a moment perplexed, then, turning round, slips her arm inChampion-Cheney’sand leads him out on to the terrace.
Elizabeth.[As they are going, in a whisper.] Did you do that on purpose?
[Porteousgets up and goes over toLady Kitty.He puts his hand on her shoulder. They remain thus for a little while.
Porteous.I’m afraid I was very rude to you before dinner, Kitty.
Lady Kitty.[Taking his hand which is on her shoulder.] It doesn’t matter. I’m sure I was very exasperating.
Porteous.I didn’t mean what I said, you know.
Lady Kitty.Neither did I.
Porteous.Of course I know that I’d never have been Prime Minister.
Lady Kitty.How can you talk such nonsense, Hughie? No one would have had a chance if you’d remained in politics.
Porteous.I haven’t the character.
Lady Kitty.You have more character than anyone I’ve ever met.
Porteous.Besides, I don’t know that I much wanted to be Prime Minister.
Lady Kitty.Oh, but I should have been so proud of you. Of course you’d have been Prime Minister.
Porteous.I’d have given you India, you know. I think it would have been a very popular appointment.
Lady Kitty.I don’t care twopence about India. I’d have been quite content with Western Australia.
Porteous.My dear, you don’t think I’d have let you bury yourself in Western Australia?
Lady Kitty.Or Barbadoes.
Porteous.Never. It sounds like a cure for flat feet. I’d have kept you in London.
[He picks up the album and is about to look at the photograph ofLady Kitty.She puts her hand over it.
Lady Kitty.No, don’t look.
[He takes her hand away.
Porteous.Don’t be so silly.
Lady Kitty.Isn’t it hateful to grow old?
Porteous.You know, you haven’t changed much.
Lady Kitty.[Enchanted.] Oh, Hughie, how can you talk such nonsense?
Porteous.Of course you’re a little more mature, but that’s all. A woman’s all the better for being rather mature.
Lady Kitty.Do you really think that?
Porteous.Upon my soul I do.
Lady Kitty.You’re not saying it just to please me?
Porteous.No, no.
Lady Kitty.Let me look at the photograph again.
[She takes the album and looks at the photograph complacently.
The fact is, if your bones are good, age doesn’t really matter. You’ll always be beautiful.
Porteous.[With a little smile, almost as if he were talking to a child.] It was silly of you to cry.
Lady Kitty.It hasn’t made my eyelashes run, has it?
Porteous.Not a bit.
Lady Kitty.It’s very good stuff I use now. They don’t stick together either.
Porteous.Look here, Kitty, how much longer do you want to stay here?
Lady Kitty.Oh, I’m quite ready to go whenever you like.
Porteous.Clive gets on my nerves. I don’t like the way he keeps hanging about you.
Lady Kitty.[Surprised, rather amused, and delighted.] Hughie, you don’t mean to say you’re jealous of poor Clive?
Porteous.Of course I’m not jealous of him, but he does look at you in a way that I can’t help thinking rather objectionable.
Lady Kitty.Hughie, you may throw me downstairs like Amy Robsart; you may drag me about the floor by the hair of my head; I don’t care, you’re jealous. I shall never grow old.
Porteous.Damn it all, the man was your husband.
Lady Kitty.My dear Hughie, he never had your style. Why, the moment you come into a room everyone looks and says: “Who the devil is that?”
Porteous.What? You think that, do you? Well, I daresay there’s something in what you say. These damned Radicals can say what they like, but, by God, Kitty! when a man’s a gentleman—well, damn it all, you know what I mean.
Lady Kitty.I think Clive has degenerated dreadfully since we left him.
Porteous.What do you say to making a bee-line for Italy and going to San Michele?
Lady Kitty.Oh, Hughie! It’s years since we were there.
Porteous.Wouldn’t you like to see it again—just once more?
Lady Kitty.Do you remember the first time we went? It was the most heavenly place I’d ever seen. We’d only left England a month, and I said I’d like to spend all my life there.
Porteous.Of course I remember. And in a fortnight it was yours, lock, stock and barrel.
Lady Kitty.We were very happy there, Hughie.
Porteous.Let’s go back once more.
Lady Kitty.I daren’t. It must be all peopled with the ghosts of our past. One should never go again to a place where one has been happy. It would break my heart.
Porteous.Do you remember how we used to sit on the terrace of the old castle and look at the Adriatic? We might have been the only people in the world, you and I, Kitty.
Lady Kitty.[Tragically.] And we thought our love would last for ever.
[EnterChampion-Cheney.
Porteous.Is there any chance of bridge this evening?
C.-C.I don’t think we can make up a four.
Porteous.What a nuisance that boy went away like that! He wasn’t a bad player.
C.-C.Teddie Luton?
Lady Kitty.I think it was very funny his going without saying good-bye to anyone.
C.-C.The young men of the present day are very casual.
Porteous.I thought there was no train in the evening.
C.-C.There isn’t. The last train leaves at 5.45.
Porteous.How did he go then?
C.-C.He went.
Porteous.Damned selfish I call it.
Lady Kitty.[Intrigued.] Why did he go, Clive?
[Champion-Cheneylooks at her for a moment reflectively.
C.-C.I have something very grave to say to you. Elizabeth wants to leave Arnold.
Lady Kitty.Clive! What on earth for?
C.-C.She’s in love with Teddie Luton. That’s why he went. The men of my family are really very unfortunate.
Porteous.Does she want to run away with him?
Lady Kitty.[With consternation.] My dear, what’s to be done?
C.-C.I think you can do a great deal.
Lady Kitty.I? What?
C.-C.Tell her, tell her what it means.
[He looks at her fixedly. She stares at him.
Lady Kitty.Oh, no, no!
C.-C.She’s a child. Not for Arnold’s sake. For her sake. You must.
Lady Kitty.You don’t know what you’re asking.
C.-C.Yes, I do.
Lady Kitty.Hughie, what shall I do?
Porteous.Do what you like. I shall never blame you for anything.
[TheFootmancomes in with a letter on a salver. He hesitates on seeing thatElizabethis not in the room.
C.-C.What is it?
Footman.I was looking for Mrs. Champion-Cheney, sir.
C.-C.She’s not here. Is that a letter?
Footman.Yes, sir. It’s just been sent up from the “Champion Arms.”
C.-C.Leave it. I’ll give it to Mrs. Cheney.
Footman.Very good, sir.
[He brings the tray toClive,who takes the letter. TheFootmangoes out.
Porteous.Is the “Champion Arms” the local pub?
C.-C.[Looking at the letter.] It’s by way of being a hotel, but I never heard of anyone staying there.
Lady Kitty.If there was no train I suppose he had to go there.
C.-C.Great minds. I wonder what he has to write about! [He goes to the door leading on to the garden.] Elizabeth!
Elizabeth.[Outside.] Yes.
C.-C.Here’s a note for you.
[There is silence. They wait forElizabethto come. She enters.
Elizabeth.It’s lovely in the garden to-night.
C.-C.They’ve just sent this up from the “Champion Arms.”
Elizabeth.Thank you.
[Without embarrassment she opens the letter. They watch her while she reads it. It covers three pages. She puts it away in her bag.
Lady Kitty.Hughie, I wish you’d fetch me a cloak. I’d like to take a little stroll in the garden, but after thirty years in Italy I find these English summers rather chilly.
[Without a wordPorteousgoes out.Elizabethis lost in thought.
I want to talk to Elizabeth, Clive.
C.-C.I’ll leave you.
[He goes out.
Lady Kitty.What does he say?
Elizabeth.Who?
Lady Kitty.Mr. Luton.
Elizabeth.[Gives a little start. Then she looks atLady Kitty.] They’ve told you?
Lady Kitty.Yes. And now they have I think I knew it all along.
Elizabeth.I don’t expect you to have much sympathy for me. Arnold is your son.
Lady Kitty.So pitifully little.
Elizabeth.I’m not suited for this sort of existence. Arnold wants me to take what he calls my place in Society. Oh, I get so bored with those parties in London. All those middle-aged painted women, in beautiful clothes, lolloping round ball-rooms with rather old young men. And the endless luncheons where they gossip about so-and-so’s love affairs.
Lady Kitty.Are you very much in love with Mr. Luton?
Elizabeth.I love him with all my heart.
Lady Kitty.And he?
Elizabeth.He’s never cared for anyone but me. He never will.
Lady Kitty.Will Arnold let you divorce him?
Elizabeth.No, he won’t hear of it. He refuses even to divorce me.
Lady Kitty.Why?
Elizabeth.He thinks a scandal will revive all the old gossip.
Lady Kitty.Oh, my poor child!
Elizabeth.It can’t be helped. I’m quite willing to accept the consequences.
Lady Kitty.You don’t know what it is to have a man tied to you only by his honour. When married people don’t get on they can separate, but if they’re not married it’s impossible. It’s a tie that only death can sever.
Elizabeth.If Teddie stopped caring for me I shouldn’t want him to stay with me for five minutes.
Lady Kitty.One says that when one’s sure of a man’s love, but when one isn’t any more—oh, it’s so different. In those circumstances one’s got to keep a man’s love. It’s the only thing one has.
Elizabeth.I’m a human being. I can stand on my own feet.
Lady Kitty.Have you any money of your own?
Elizabeth.None.
Lady Kitty.Then how can you stand on your own feet? You think I’m a silly, frivolous woman, but I’ve learned something in a bitter school. They can make what laws they like, they can give us the suffrage, but when you come down to bedrock it’s the man who pays the piper who calls the tune. Woman will only be the equal of man when she earns her living in the same way that he does.
Elizabeth.[Smiling.] It sounds rather funny to hear you talk like that.
Lady Kitty.A cook who marries a butler can snap her fingers in his face because she can earn just as much as he can. But a woman in your position and a woman in mine will always be dependent on the men who keep them.
Elizabeth.I don’t want luxury. You don’t know how sick I am of all this beautiful furniture. These over-decorated houses are like a prison in which I can’t breathe. When I drive about in a Callot frock and a Rolls-Royce I envy the shop-girl in a coat and skirt whom I see jumping on the tailboard of a bus.
Lady Kitty.You mean that if need be you could earn your own living?
Elizabeth.Yes.
Lady Kitty.What could you be? A nurse or a typist. It’s nonsense. Luxury saps a woman’s nerve. And when she’s known it once it becomes a necessity.
Elizabeth.That depends on the woman.
Lady Kitty.When we’re young we think we’re different from everyone else, but when we grow a little older we discover we’re all very much of a muchness.
Elizabeth.You’re very kind to take so much trouble about me.
Lady Kitty.It breaks my heart to think that you’re going to make the same pitiful mistake that I made.
Elizabeth.Oh, don’t say it was that, don’t, don’t.
Lady Kitty.Look at me, Elizabeth, and look at Hughie. Do you think it’s been a success? If I had my time over again do you think I’d do it again? Do you think he would?
Elizabeth.You see, you don’t know how much I love Teddie.
Lady Kitty.And do you think I didn’t love Hughie? Do you think he didn’t love me?
Elizabeth.I’m sure he did.
Lady Kitty.Oh, of course in the beginning it was heavenly. We felt so brave and adventurous and we were so much in love. The first two years were wonderful. People cut me, you know, but I didn’t mind. I thought love was everything. Itisa little uncomfortable when you come upon an old friend and go towards her eagerly, so glad to see her, and are met with an icy stare.
Elizabeth.Do you think friends like that are worth having?
Lady Kitty.Perhaps they’re not very sure of themselves. Perhaps they’re honestly shocked. It’s a test one had better not put one’s friends to if one can help it. It’s rather bitter to find how few one has.
Elizabeth.But one has some.
Lady Kitty.Yes, they ask you to come and see them when they’re quite certain no one will be there who might object to meeting you. Or else they say to you: “My dear, you know I’m devoted to you, and I wouldn’t mind at all, but my girl’s growing up—I’m sure you understand; you won’t think it unkind of me if I don’t ask you to the house?”
Elizabeth.[Smiling.] That doesn’t seem to me very serious.
Lady Kitty.At first I thought it rather a relief, because it threw Hughie and me together more. But you know, men are very funny. Even when they are in love they’re not in love all day long. They want change and recreation.
Elizabeth.I’m not inclined to blame them for that, poor dears.
Lady Kitty.Then we settled in Florence. And because we couldn’t get the society we’d been used to we became used to the society we could get. Loose women and vicious men. Snobs who liked to patronise people with a handle to their names. Vague Italian Princes who were glad to borrow a few francs from Hughie and seedy countesses who liked to drive with me in the Cascine. And then Hughie began to hanker after his old life. He wanted to go big game shooting, but I dared not let him go. I was afraid he’d never come back.
Elizabeth.But you knew he loved you.
Lady Kitty.Oh, my dear, what a blessed institution marriage is—for women, and what fools they are to meddle with it! The Church is so wise to take its stand on the indi—indi—
Elizabeth.Solu—
Lady Kitty.Bility of marriage. Believe me, it’s no joke when you have to rely only on yourself to keep a man. I could never afford to grow old. My dear, I’ll tell you a secret that I’ve never told a living soul.
Elizabeth.What is that?
Lady Kitty.My hair is not naturally this colour.
Elizabeth.Really.
Lady Kitty.I touch it up. You would never have guessed, would you?
Elizabeth.Never.
Lady Kitty.Nobody does. My dear, it’s white, prematurely of course, but white. I always think it’s a symbol of my life. Are you interested in symbolism? I think it’s too wonderful.
Elizabeth.I don’t think I know very much about it.
Lady Kitty.However tired I’ve been I’ve had to be brilliant and gay. I’ve never let Hughie see the aching heart behind my smiling eyes.
Elizabeth.[Amused and touched.] You poor dear.
Lady Kitty.And when I saw he was attracted by some one else the fear and the jealousy that seized me! You see, I didn’t dare make a scene as I should have done if I’d been married—I had to pretend not to notice.
Elizabeth.[Taken aback.] But do you mean to say he fell in love with anyone else?
Lady Kitty.Of course he did eventually.
Elizabeth.[Hardly knowing what to say.] You must have been very unhappy.
Lady Kitty.Oh, I was, dreadfully. Night after night I sobbed my heart out when Hughie told me he was going to play cards at the club and I knew he was with that odious woman. Of course, it wasn’t as if there weren’t plenty of men who were only too anxious to console me. Men have always been attracted by me, you know.
Elizabeth.Oh, of course, I can quite understand it.
Lady Kitty.But I had my self-respect to think of. I felt that whatever Hughie did I would do nothing that I should regret.
Elizabeth.You must be very glad now.
Lady Kitty.Oh, yes. Notwithstanding all my temptations I’ve been absolutely faithful to Hughie in spirit.
Elizabeth.I don’t think I quite understand what you mean.
Lady Kitty.Well, there was a poor Italian boy, young Count Castel Giovanni, who was so desperately in love with me that his mother begged me not to be too cruel. She was afraid he’d go into a consumption. What could I do? And then, oh, years later, there was Antonio Melita. He said he’d shoot himself unless I—well, you understand I couldn’t let the poor boy shoot himself.
Elizabeth.D’you think he really would have shot himself?
Lady Kitty.Oh, one never knows, you know. Those Italians are so passionate. He was really rather a lamb. He had such beautiful eyes.
[Elizabethlooks at her for a long time and acertain horror seizes her of this dissolute, painted old woman.
Elizabeth.[Hoarsely.] Oh, but I think that’s—dreadful.
Lady Kitty.Are you shocked? One sacrifices one’s life for love and then one finds that love doesn’t last. The tragedy of love isn’t death or separation. One gets over them. The tragedy of love is indifference.
[Arnoldcomes in.
Arnold.Can I have a little talk with you, Elizabeth?
Elizabeth.Of course.
Arnold.Shall we go for a stroll in the garden?
Elizabeth.If you like.
Lady Kitty.No, stay here. I’m going out anyway.
[ExitLady Kitty.
Arnold.I want you to listen to me for a few minutes, Elizabeth. I was so taken aback by what you told me just now that I lost my head. I was rather absurd and I beg your pardon. I said things I regret.
Elizabeth.Oh, don’t blame yourself. I’m sorry that I should have given you occasion to say them.
Arnold.I want to ask you if you’ve quite made up your mind to go.
Elizabeth.Quite.
Arnold.Just now I seem to have said all that I didn’t want to say and nothing that I did. I’m stupid and tongue-tied. I never told you how deeply I loved you.
Elizabeth.Oh, Arnold!
Arnold.Please let me speak now. It’s so very difficult. If I seemed absorbed in politics and the house, and so on, to the exclusion of my interest in you, I’m dreadfully sorry. I suppose it was absurd of me to think you would take my great love for granted.
Elizabeth.But, Arnold, I’m not reproaching you.
Arnold.I’m reproaching myself. I’ve been tactless and neglectful. But I do ask you to believe that it hasn’t been because I didn’t love you. Can you forgive me?
Elizabeth.I don’t think that there’s anything to forgive.
Arnold.It wasn’t till to-day when you talked of leaving me that I realised how desperately in love with you I was.
Elizabeth.After three years?
Arnold.I’m so proud of you. I admire you so much. When I see you at a party, so fresh and lovely, and everybody wondering at you, I have a sort of little thrill because you’re mine, and afterwards I shall take you home.
Elizabeth.Oh, Arnold, you’re exaggerating.
Arnold.I can’t imagine this house without you. Life seems on a sudden all empty and meaningless. Oh, Elizabeth, don’t you love me at all?
Elizabeth.It’s much better to be honest. No.
Arnold.Doesn’t my love mean anything to you?
Elizabeth.I’m very grateful to you. I’m sorry to cause you pain. What would be the good of my staying with you when I should be wretched all the time?
Arnold.Do you love that man as much as all that? Does my unhappiness mean nothing to you?
Elizabeth.Of course it does. It breaks my heart. You see, I never knew I meant so much to you. I’m so touched. And I’m so sorry, Arnold, really sorry. But I can’t help myself.
Arnold.Poor child, it’s cruel of me to torture you.
Elizabeth.Oh, Arnold, believe me, I have tried to make the best of it. I’ve tried to love you, but I can’t. After all, one either loves or one doesn’t. Trying is no help. And now I’m at the end of my tether. I can’t help the consequences—I must do what my whole self yearns for.
Arnold.My poor child, I’m so afraid you’ll be unhappy. I’m so afraid you’ll regret.
Elizabeth.You must leave me to my fate. I hope you’ll forget me and all the unhappiness I’ve caused you.
Arnold.[There is a pause.Arnoldwalks up anddown the room reflectively. He stops and faces her.] If you love this man and want to go to him I’ll do nothing to prevent you. My only wish is to do what is best for you.
Elizabeth.Arnold, that’s awfully kind of you. If I’m treating you badly at least I want you to know that I’m grateful for all your kindness to me.
Arnold.But there’s one favour I should like you to do me. Will you?
Elizabeth.Oh, Arnold, of course I’ll do anything I can.
Arnold.Teddie hasn’t very much money. You’ve been used to a certain amount of luxury, and I can’t bear to think that you should do without anything you’ve had. It would kill me to think that you were suffering any hardship or privation.
Elizabeth.Oh, but Teddie can earn enough for our needs. After all, we don’t want much money.
Arnold.I’m afraid my mother’s life hasn’t been very easy, but it’s obvious that the only thing that’s made it possible is that Porteous was rich. I want you to let me make you an allowance of two thousand a year.
Elizabeth.Oh, no, I couldn’t think of it. It’s absurd.
Arnold.I beg you to accept it. You don’t know what a difference it will make.
Elizabeth.It’s awfully kind of you, Arnold. It humiliates me to speak about it. Nothing would induce me to take a penny from you.
Arnold.Well, you can’t prevent me from opening an account at my bank in your name. The money shall be paid in every quarter whether you touch it or not, and if you happen to want it, it will be there waiting for you.
Elizabeth.You overwhelm me, Arnold. There’s only one thing I want you to do for me. I should be very grateful if you would divorce me as soon as you possibly can.
Arnold.No, I won’t do that. But I’ll give you cause to divorce me.
Elizabeth.You!
Arnold.Yes. But of course you’ll have to be very careful for a bit. I’ll put it through as quickly as possible, but I’m afraid you can’t hope to be free for over six months.
Elizabeth.But, Arnold, your seat and your political career!
Arnold.Oh, well, my father gave up his seat under similar circumstances. He’s got along very comfortably without politics.
Elizabeth.But they’re your whole life.
Arnold.After all one can’t have it both ways. You can’t serve God and Mammon. If you want to do the decent thing you have to be prepared to suffer for it.
Elizabeth.But I don’t want you to suffer for it.
Arnold.At first I rather hesitated at the scandal. But I daresay that was only weakness on my part. Under the circumstances I should have liked to keep out of the Divorce Court if I could.
Elizabeth.Arnold, you’re making me absolutely miserable.
Arnold.What you said before dinner was quite right. It’s nothing for a man, but it makes so much difference to a woman. Naturally I must think of you first.
Elizabeth.That’s absurd. It’s out of the question. Whatever there’s to pay I must pay it.
Arnold.It’s not very much I’m asking you, Elizabeth.
Elizabeth.I’m taking everything from you.
Arnold.It’s the only condition I make. My mind is absolutely made up. I will never divorce you, but I will enable you to divorce me.
Elizabeth.Oh, Arnold, it’s cruel to be so generous.
Arnold.It’s not generous at all. It’s the only way I have of showing you how deep and passionate and sincere my love is for you.
[There is a silence. He holds out his hand.
Good-night. I have a great deal of work to do before I go to bed.
Elizabeth.Good-night.
Arnold.Do you mind if I kiss you?
Elizabeth.[With agony.] Oh, Arnold!
[He gravely kisses her on the forehead and then goes out.Elizabethstands lost in thought. She is shattered.Lady KittyandPorteouscome in.Lady Kittywears a cloak.
Lady Kitty.You’re alone, Elizabeth?
Elizabeth.That note you asked me about, Lady Kitty, from Teddie . . .
Lady Kitty.Yes?
Elizabeth.He wanted to have a talk with me before he went away. He’s waiting for me in the summer house by the tennis court. Would Lord Porteous mind going down and asking him to come here?
Porteous.Certainly. Certainly.
Elizabeth.Forgive me for troubling you. But it’s very important.
Porteous.No trouble at all.
[He goes out.
Lady Kitty.Hughie and I will leave you alone.
Elizabeth.But I don’t want to be left alone. I want you to stay.
Lady Kitty.What are you going to say to him?
Elizabeth.[Desperately.] Please don’t ask me questions. I’m so frightfully unhappy.
Lady Kitty.My poor child!
Elizabeth.Oh, isn’t life rotten? Why can’t one be happy without making other people unhappy?
Lady Kitty.I wish I knew how to help you. I’m simply devoted to you. [She hunts about in her mind for something to do or say.] Would you like my lip-stick?
Elizabeth.[Smiling through her tears.] Thanks. I never use one.
Lady Kitty.Oh, but just try. It’s such a comfort when you’re in trouble.
[EnterPorteousandTeddie.
Porteous.I brought him. He said he’d be damned if he’d come.
Lady Kitty.When a lady sent for him? Are these the manners of the young men of to-day?
Teddie.When you’ve been solemnly kicked out of a house once I think it seems rather pushing to come back again as though nothing had happened.
Elizabeth.Teddie, I want you to be serious.
Teddie.Darling, I had such a rotten dinner at that pub. If you ask me to be serious on the top of that I shall cry.
Elizabeth.Don’t be idiotic, Teddie. [Her voice faltering.] I’m so utterly wretched.
[He looks at her for a moment gravely.
Teddie.What is it?
Elizabeth.I can’t come away with you, Teddie.
Teddie.Why not?
Elizabeth.[Looking away in embarrassment.] I don’t love you enough.
Teddie.Fiddle!
Elizabeth.[With a flash of anger.] Don’t say “Fiddle” to me.
Teddie.I shall say exactly what I like to you.
Elizabeth.I won’t be bullied.
Teddie.Now look here, Elizabeth, you know perfectly well that I’m in love with you, and I know perfectly well that you’re in love with me. So what are you talking nonsense for?
Elizabeth.[Her voice breaking.] I can’t say it if you’re cross with me.
Teddie.[Smiling very tenderly.] I’m not cross with you, silly.
Elizabeth.It’s harder still when you’re being rather an owl.
Teddie.[With a chuckle.] Am I mistaken in thinking you’re not very easy to please?
Elizabeth.Oh, it’s monstrous. I was all wrought upand ready to do anything, and now you’ve thoroughly put me out. I feel like a great big fat balloon that some one has put a long pin into. [With a sudden look at him.] Have you done it on purpose?
Teddie.Upon my soul I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Elizabeth.I wonder if you’re really much cleverer than I think you are.
Teddie.[Taking her hands and making her sit down.] Now tell me exactly what you want to say. By the way, do you want Lady Kitty and Lord Porteous to be here?
Elizabeth.Yes.
Lady Kitty.Elizabeth asked us to stay.
Teddie.Oh, I don’t mind, bless you. I only thought you might feel rather in the way.
Lady Kitty.[Frigidly.] A gentlewoman never feels in the way, Mr. Luton.
Teddie.Won’t you call me Teddie? Everybody does, you know.
[Lady Kittytries to give him a withering look, but she finds it very difficult to prevent herself from smiling.TeddiestrokesElizabeth’shands. She draws them away.
Elizabeth.No, don’t do that. Teddie, it wasn’t true when I said I didn’t love you. Of course I love you. But Arnold loves me, too. I didn’t know how much.
Teddie.What has he been saying to you?
Elizabeth.He’s been very good to me, and so kind. I didn’t know he could be so kind. He offered to let me divorce him.
Teddie.That’s very decent of him.
Elizabeth.But don’t you see, it ties my hands. How can I accept such a sacrifice? I should never forgive myself if I profited by his generosity.
Teddie.If another man and I were devilish hungry and there was only one mutton chop between us, and hesaid, “You eat it,” I wouldn’t waste a lot of time arguing. I’d wolf it before he changed his mind.
Elizabeth.Don’t talk like that. It maddens me. I’m trying to do the right thing.
Teddie.You’re not in love with Arnold; you’re in love with me. It’s idiotic to sacrifice your life for a slushy sentiment.
Elizabeth.After all, I did marry him.
Teddie.Well, you made a mistake. A marriage without love is no marriage at all.
Elizabeth.Imade the mistake. Why should he suffer for it? If anyone has to suffer it’s only right that I should.
Teddie.What sort of a life do you think it would be with him? When two people are married it’s very difficult for one of them to be unhappy without making the other unhappy too.
Elizabeth.I can’t take advantage of his generosity.
Teddie.I daresay he’ll get a lot of satisfaction out of it.
Elizabeth.You’re being beastly, Teddie. He was simply wonderful. I never knew he had it in him. He was really noble.
Teddie.You are talking rot, Elizabeth.
Elizabeth.I wonder if you’d be capable of acting like that.
Teddie.Acting like what?
Elizabeth.What would you do if I were married to you and came and told you I loved somebody else and wanted to leave you?
Teddie.You have very pretty blue eyes, Elizabeth. I’d black first one and then the other. And after that we’d see.
Elizabeth.You damned brute!
Teddie.I’ve often thought I wasn’t quite a gentleman. Had it ever struck you?
[They look at one another for a while.
Elizabeth.You know, you are taking an unfairadvantage of me. I feel as if I came to you quite unsuspectingly and when I wasn’t looking you kicked me on the shins.
Teddie.Don’t you think we’d get on rather well together?
Porteous.Elizabeth’s a fool if she don’t stick to her husband. It’s bad enough for the man, but for the woman—it’s damnable. I hold no brief for Arnold. He plays bridge like a foot. Saving your presence, Kitty, I think he’s a prig.
Lady Kitty.Poor dear, his father was at his age. I daresay he’ll grow out of it.
Porteous.But you stick to him, Elizabeth, stick to him. Man is a gregarious animal. We’re members of a herd. If we break the herd’s laws we suffer for it. And we suffer damnably.
Lady Kitty.Oh, Elizabeth, my dear child, don’t go. It’s not worth it. It’s not worth it. I tell you that, and I’ve sacrificed everything to love.
[A pause.
Elizabeth.I’m afraid.
Teddie.[In a whisper.] Elizabeth.
Elizabeth.I can’t face it. It’s asking too much of me. Let’s say good-bye to one another, Teddie. It’s the only thing to do. And have pity on me. I’m giving up all my hope of happiness.
[He goes up to her and looks into her eyes.
Teddie.But I wasn’t offering you happiness. I don’t think my sort of love tends to happiness. I’m jealous. I’m not a very easy man to get on with. I’m often out of temper and irritable. I should be fed to the teeth with you sometimes, and so would you be with me. I daresay we’d fight like cat and dog, and sometimes we’d hate each other. Often you’d be wretched and bored stiff and lonely, and often you’d be frightfully homesick, and then you’d regret all you’d lost. Stupid women would be rude to you because we’d run away together. And some of them wouldcut you. I don’t offer you peace and quietness. I offer you unrest and anxiety. I don’t offer you happiness. I offer you love.
Elizabeth.[Stretching out her arms.] You hateful creature, I absolutely adore you!
[He throws his arms round her and kisses her passionately on the lips.
Lady Kitty.Of course the moment he said he’d give her a black eye I knew it was finished.
Porteous.[Good-humouredly.] You are a fool, Kitty.
Lady Kitty.I know I am, but I can’t help it.
Teddie.Let’s make a bolt for it now.
Elizabeth.Shall we?
Teddie.This minute.
Porteous.You’re damned fools, both of you, damned fools! If you like you can have my car.
Teddie.That’s awfully kind of you. As a matter of fact I got it out of the garage. It’s just along the drive.
Porteous.[Indignantly.] How do you mean, you got it out of the garage?
Teddie.Well, I thought there’d be a lot of bother, and it seemed to me the best thing would be for Elizabeth and me not to stand upon the order of our going, you know. Do it now. An excellent motto for a business man.
Porteous.Do you mean to say you were going to steal my car?
Teddie.Not exactly. I was only going to bolshevise it, so to speak.
Porteous.I’m speechless. I’m absolutely speechless.
Teddie.Hang it all, I couldn’t carry Elizabeth all the way to London. She’s so damned plump.
Elizabeth.You dirty dog!
Porteous.[Spluttering.] Well, well, well! . . . [Helplessly.] I like him, Kitty, it’s no good pretending I don’t. I like him.
Teddie.The moon’s shining, Elizabeth. We’ll drive all through the night.
Porteous.They’d better go to San Michele. I’ll wire to have it got ready for them.
Lady Kitty.That’s where we went when Hughie and I . . . [Faltering.] Oh, you dear things, how I envy you!
Porteous.[Mopping his eyes.] Now don’t cry, Kitty. Confound you, don’t cry.
Teddie.Come, darling.
Elizabeth.But I can’t go like this.
Teddie.Nonsense! Lady Kitty will lend you her cloak. Won’t you?
Lady Kitty.[Taking it off.] You’re capable of tearing it off my back if I don’t.
Teddie.[Putting the cloak onElizabeth.] And we’ll buy you a tooth-brush in London in the morning.
Lady Kitty.She must write a note for Arnold. I’ll put it on her pincushion.
Teddie.Pincushion be blowed! Come, darling. We’ll drive through the dawn and through the sunrise.
Elizabeth.[KissingLady KittyandPorteous.] Good-bye. Good-bye.
[Teddiestretches out his hand and she takes it. Hand in hand they go out into the night.
Lady Kitty.Oh, Hughie, how it all comes back to me! Will they suffer all we suffered? And have we suffered all in vain?
Porteous.My dear, I don’t know that in life it matters so much what you do as what you are. No one can learn by the experience of another because no circumstances are quite the same. If we made rather a hash of things perhaps it was because we were rather trivial people. You can do anything in this world if you’re prepared to take the consequences, and consequences depend on character.
[EnterChampion-Cheney,rubbing his hands. He is as pleased as Punch.
C.-C.Well, I think I’ve settled the hash of that young man.
Lady Kitty.Oh!