THE WISDOM OF FOLLY.
ELIOT. Certainly. Since Mrs. Rose has been sepa-
rated from her husband, fifteen years ago, I understand
that her neighbours, Sir John Bellasis, Mr. Shand-Shand
and your uncle, Sir Alexander Trumble, have played
whist with her here every evening with the exception
of Sundays?
ARTHUR. They have,-for fifteen years, revoking, on
an average, three times every evening.
ELIOT. And each of these gentlemen hopes to marry
Mrs. Rose on the death of her husband ?
ARTHUR. There are no fools like old fools, you know.
Eliot. Except young ones. Thanks. That's all I
wanted to know. Good-bye for the present. (he goes
toward window)
ARTHUR. (following him up) Er- do you mind
telling me why you ask these questions?
Eliot. (turning up stage L.) Oh no. I happened
to be standing on the step of the Red Lion last night
after the whist had finished here. On their way home,
the three old gentlemen passed separately and each
one saw me and asked tie the same questions, one after
another.
ARTHUR. Oh!
ELIOT. Each wanted to know how he could make it
impossible for one of the others to marry Mrs. Rose
on the death of her husband.
ARTHUR. Oh!
ELIOT. Being a lawyer I dictated the same paper to
each. When Mrs. Rose has signed them, as I have
no doubt she will,-a woman will sign anything,-
neither of them will be able to marry her, because
Mrs. Rose will have promised the Colonel never to
marry the Admiral, the Admiral never to marry Mr.
Shand-Shand, and Mr. Shand-Shand never to marry the
Colonel. In law, we always begin in making a hopeless
muddle in order to show our skill in unravelling it.
ARTHUR. (mirthlessly) Ha! ha! ha!
ELIOT. Ha ! he! he!
ARTHUR. You are a very deep chap.
ELIOT. My dear Arthur Caldicott, I am a lawyer.
However I must go, or I shall be too late. (he goes
out quickly L.)
ARTHUR. So must I, or I shall be too early. (he goes
out after him L.)
MINCII enters R., and goes on dusting. After another
slight pause NORAH Chitty enters from R., carrying
four or five small volumes of poetry. She is a tali,


THE WISDOM OF FOLLY.
45
MRS. ROSE. My dear Admiral, while I discuss a few
matters of the utmost importance with Mr. Eliot, do
pick a few strawberries in the garden. I want you to
be present at the reading as my dearest friend.
ADMIRAL bows coldly and goes off c.
Eliot. (from fireplace) I'm afraid this bell is out
of order, Mrs. Rose.
MRS. ROSE. Is it indeed? As a ruse nothing ails in
this beautiful air. Did I tell you we are a thousand
miies above the sea-level-on quite a double bedded bank
of gravel?
SHAND-SHAND. (coming down with dignified temper)
Mrs. Rose, my nature does not allow me the use of
sarcasm, but I am convinced you would rather a distant
acquaintance took his leave.
MRS. Rose. As my dearest friend, I should so much
like you to be present when the will is read. I think
you ought to, really. In the garden you will still find
a few nice cherries. But do be careful. Appendicitis
really seems to be in the air.
MR. SHAND-SHAND bows and goes out c. MRS. ROSE
catches NORAH's eye and points to the door. NORAH
nods and goes out. MRS. Rose then sits down and
draws another chair quite close.
MRS. Rose. Mr. Eliot-we are alone.
ELIOT. Then this is an excellent opportunity for our
little business. As I can't make the bell ring, I will
fetch the bag myself. (he goes towards the door)
MRS. ROSE. Really, Mr. Eliot, I am not at this mo-
ment, in a fit condition to hear Mr. Rose's voice through
the medium of his will-my frock is so white. Won't
you sit down.
ELIOT. (comes back, brings chair to head of settee
and sits) I never come to this charming old house
without wishing I could retire from the wear and tear
of life.
Mrs. Rose. Then why don't you? Of course I can
quite understand that law, like burglary, has its fasci-
nations. But let me assure you that one can grow very
tired of the never-ending cow and the incessant night-
ingale. Personally, I think it is good for human nature
to be within the four mile radius of the Aquarium.
ELIOT. It depends on the constitution, Mrs. Rose.
MRS. ROSE. Don't mention the word! Ah me, how
sorely these fifteen years of weary waiting have tried