, i .!,■■" 1 .'■', ';»,',',?.■, '.'.•!. THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES GIFT OF Kate Gordon Moore PLAYS BY MRS. W. K. CLIFFORD BY THE SAME AUTHOR THE LIKENESS OF THE NIGHT (Four Acts) A LONG DUEL (Comedy, Four Acts) THE SEARCHLIGHT (One Act) A SUPREME MOMENT (One Act) PLAYS: HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS THE MODERN WAY BY MRS. W. K. CLIFFORD LONDON DUCKWORTH AND CO. HENRIETTA ST. COVENT GAKDEN 1909 These plays are copyright in the United States qf America All rights reserved Printed by Ballantyne A' Co., Limited Tavistock Street, Covent Garden, London PPv CONTENTS Page I HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS 89 THE MODERN WAY 199 S53229 \ HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS PRODUCED AT THE COURT THEATRE, LONDON, OCTOBER 1907, BY ME. OTHO STUAKT, WITH Mh. Dawson Milward, Mr. E. M. Garden, Mr. Graham Browne, Miss Frances Dillon, and Miss Alexandra Carlisle in the Chief Parts DRAMATIS PERSONS Sir Henry Callender Maurice Hamilton, ex-Civil Servant Colonel Dempster, Ais/riend Guy Armitage JUDSON, butler to Sir H. Callcnder Becker, Hamilton's servant Lady Callender Sylvia, daughter to Sir H. and Lady Callender Madame Bunsen, a riding-mistress ACT I. Lady Callender's drawing-room on Camden Hill. Early afternoon. ACT II. The same. Four days later. A CT III. Sylvia's sitting-room. Ten days later. ACT IV. A year later. Maurice Hamilton's study in Ken- sington Square. TIME: Present. ACT I Scene. — Lady Callender's drawins-room on Camden o Hill. French windows opening on to garden and lawn seen beyond. Fireplace R, door L. Grand piano {open) c. Flowers about, SfC. Pleasant, home- like room oj" well-off people. Time. — Early afternoon. [ When the curtain rises Sir Henry Callender is standing by the bell, which he rings rather im- petuously. He is elderly, lively and mannered. Enter Servant (Judson), with note on tray, held down by his side. Sir H. Where is Lady Callender .'' JuDsoN. Her Ladyship is lying down. Sir Henry. Sir H. Oh ! [i/e always says " Oh ! " in the same short tone.] And Miss Sylvia ? JuDsoN. Miss Sylvia is out. Sir H. Oh ! What's that [Looking down at tray. JuDSON. [Handing tiote.] Mr. Hamilton's servant brought it this morning — just after you had gone, and was to wait for an answer. [Sir Henry reads it with some excitement. 5 6 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE Sir H. Oh ! [To Judson, 7vho is about to go.'] Judson — wait. [Reads note again.'] I — I want a telegram to go immediately. [Sits down wnting-tahle, r.] No — stop — I won't send it — I'll telephone [Exit Judson. ] [Looking at note again.] Of course. [Exit. [Stage empty for a minute. Re-enter Judson, showing in Guy Armitage — young, boyish in manner, good-looking. Judson. Miss Sylvia is out, sir, but I'll see if her Ladyship is about yet. Guy. Don't disturb her if she's lying down — I mean — er — taking her little siesta — or going out. Judson. No, sir. [Exit. [Guy alone 7nakes business — looks round room — whistles the ttme of the song he afterwards plays, drifts to piano, and plays and sings softly to himself. [Sings.] " Did you ever see the devil With his wooden pail and shovel, Digging taters by the bushel With his tail cocked up ? tail cocked up } Did you ever see the devil With his wooden pail " Enter Lady Callender (46), handsome, rather austere- looking, hut sweet-mannered — a little firm in manner, as of a woman whose prejudices, in spite of her sweetness, it would he difficult to conquer. HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 7 Lady C. My dear Guy — that tune again I Don't you know any other ? Guy. Nothing so beautiful, Aunt Peggy. But I hope I haven't disturbed you? Lady C. No, dear ; I had finished my little siesta. Guy. [With a little, merry, backward shake of his leg at Lady C.'s last «;07y/.] I came to see if Sylvia would stroll round to the riding-school, and have a look at Clara — she's getting on splendidly. Lady C. Sylvia is at her Debating Society. [Sits, Guy. Debating Society ! Lord ! — all girls under twenty-five, aren't they .'* Lady C. Yes ; I think so. Guy. What on earth do they debate about } Lady C. Well, last time it was Women's Suffrage and Guy, [Quickly. '\ Wliich side did she take } Lady C. Against it — of course. Guy. [Relieved.^ That's all right. What's it about to-day. Lady C. She didn't tell me — sit down, dear. Guy. Does she do much talking } [Sits down at piano again, facing Lady C. Lady C. I don't know, of course ; but she has keen views on most subjects — for a girl. Guy. [With a little sigh.^ She never airs them to me. Lady C. Perhaps she's afraid you would laugh at her. I think it takes an older companion — if it's a man — to bring her out. 8 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE Guy. Ah ! the immaculate Hamilton, for instance. Lady C. He said, the other day, that he enjoyed a talk with her immensely. Guv. [Good-humouredhj .^ Indeed ? Very kind of him. Well — well — shall i sing you a verse. Aunt P^SSy ^ [Begins to sing and play mournfully. " Did you ever see the devil With his wooden pail and shovel " [Stopping abruptly.^ There's nothing like the devil for a beggar who's in love. Lady C. [Amused.^ Are you in love ? Guv. Oh, no ; not at all, thank you — I thought I was, but I find I'm not— for the present. [Plays for a minute, stops.^ What a funny chap Hamilton is ! Your Anglo-Indian is always a little — well, you know. Lady C. He wasn't long in India ; he threw up his post twelve years ago, when his wife died Guv. Oh, he's a widower, is he ? Lady C. Didn't you know } Guv, Never thought about it, Aunt Peggotty — or I should have said he was a bachelor ; he has the cut of one. . . . Wasn't it he who put Sylvia up to having more riding-lessons .'' Lady C. He said they would be good for her. She had never ridden in London at all, and not much in the country Guv. She didn't seem to care about it before he worried round. Lady C. I don't think she knew how lovely Bexted was till he came HAMILTONS SECOND MARRIAGE 9 Guy. I wonder what made him go there. It is rather off the beaten track. Lady C. He saw Briary Way advertised, and it sounded like the sort of thing he wanted. Guy. [Thoughtfully.'] You see, he's rather elderly. Lady C. He's only forty -two. Guv. I believe he's gone on Sylvia. They take it badly at that age. Lady C. [Who evidently dislikes slang.] What makes you think he's " gone " on her .'' Guy. Rather difficult to explain the symptoms, but I know 'em — wonder if its any good. He had a good pull all that time in the country. Still, she isn't a girl to be snapped up easily. Lady C. [A little severely.] I hope she regards marriage too seriously to be " snapped up." Guy. Beg pardon, Aunt Peggotty, didn't mean to be rude. Well, I must get back to my little sister going round and round on her gee-gee. Lady C. Are there many girls at Madame Bunsen's .'' Guy. a good many. Best riding-school in London now. Rummy thing for a woman to do, isn't it ? Lady C. Very. I wonder what her history is .'' Guy. I should think she was in a circus from the way she rides — no one can touch her. Some one said she came from Mexico. Lady C. She seems to like Sylvia. Guy. Shouldn't wonder — a good many people do. [Thoughtfully, ajler absently playing for a minute or 10 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE two.] I think I shall go to Japan and have a squint at the world in general, for a year. Lady C. [Siirpiised.] My dear Guy — what for ? Enter Servant, tvith telegram. [Opetis and reads it.] No answer. [Exit Servant. Lady C. How tiresome ! Colonel Dempster can't dine to-night. Could i/oii come, dear } Guy. Should love it, but I'm engaged — worse luck. Re-enter Sir Henry Callender. Sir H. [To Guy.] Oh, is that you ? [To Lady C] I say, what the deuce are they doing with the library — I particularly want it this afternoon. Lady C. My dear Harry, the place simply reeked of tobacco. Sir H. Why shouldn't it ? Excellent tobacco ! Lady C. But I couldn't let people take their cloaks off there till I had it turned out. They've taken down the curtains to fumigate, opened the windows washed everything with carbolic Sir H. The devil Guy. [Quickly cuts in sin^ng.] " With his wooden pail and shovel " Lady C, Be quiet, Guy. [To Sir H.] They are going to burn some pastilles, and when Sylvia comes in I shall ask her to arrange some of those tall lilies there. Sir H. [Rather amused^ Oh ! Is that all. . . . And where is Sylvia } HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 11 Lady C. She'll be here very soon now. She went to the Debating Society at Lady Redcar's. Sir. H. And what's that ? [Pointing to the telegram.^ Some one thrown us over for to-night ? Lady C. Colonel Dempster. I asked Guy to take his place, but he can't. Sir H. Oh ! [To Guy.] Why can't you > Guy. Wish I could, but I'm going to dine with Buckles — Empire afterwards — they've got a dan- cer Sir H. I know — Wish I were going — best thing in town. Guy. Rather ! [Quickli/ .'] I say ! — Clara will wonder what's become of me. Good-bye, Aunt Peggotty. Sir H. We'll go to the Empire together one night, shall we ? Guy. Should like it — awfully. [Exit Guy. Sir H. [Evidently glad he's gone. Turning to Lady C] Sylvia won't be back just yet .'' Lady C. No, Sir H. That's all right. . . . Now !— What about to-night .'' Would Hamilton do .'' Lady C. Yes, he'd do. But I don't think we ought to ask him again— just yet. Sir H. Because — Oh nonsense — give him time. He is not the man to rush things — only just got his London house — wants to see if he can afford to marry again perhaps. Lady C. But I am certain Sylvia is fond of 12 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE him. We ought to have put an end to it before — only I didn't see why we should. Sir H. Neither did I. [JVith an inward chuckle which he tries to hide.] You are quite sure you would like him for her .-^ Lady C. Quite — he is the sort of man she ought to marry . . . and she would be next us at Bexted Sir H. Not too old ? Lady C. Why no. I'm sorry for Guy, but he'll get over it Sir H. H'm ! Hamilton is a good fellow — Dempster, who has known him all his life, was say- ing so the other day — behaved well over some crisis — he didn't say what. ... I like him — did from the first. He's a widower, of course Lady C. But there are no children, and his wife died long ago. ... I'm certain Sylvia cares for him. Sir H. [Tiiumphantly.] Well, look at this then. [Pulls Old note and hands it to her.] Came this morn- ing Lady C. [Reading.] " Could you see me alone — this afternoon } " — Of course it's that. [Face brighten- ing.] What have you done ? Sir H. Telephoned. He was out — but had left word he'd be back at four punctually. Said I'd ring him up again. [Looking towards clock.] Must go in five minutes. Shall tell him to come imme- diately. — Lucky he lives so near, eh .'' And you've turned out the library at the very moment when I HAMILTONS SECOND MARRIAGE 13 ought to receive my future son-in-law there and do the heavy father. Lady C. You must see him here. Sir H. It's the sort of interview no one has in a drawing-room. A drawing-room is a woman's place. Lady C. I'll go before he comes. . . . Why didn't you tell me before ? Sir H. Only just had it, been at the Law Courts all day, mere fluke that I came in now. Lady C. Harry ! [Laughing.] What with want- ing to take Guy to a music-hall, and going to the Law Courts when there's a case unfit for publica- tion Sir H. That's why — that's why Lady C. [Shaking her head.] You'll never be any better Sir H. Never, my dear, but you are good enough for us both. [Pause.] ... I want to tell you some- thing else. [Hesitates.] I ran against Florence Cathcart to day. Lady C. [StiJ/ii/]. Oh ! Did you speak to her ? Sir H. Yes — of course I did. Lady C. How did she look ? Sir H. Not very well, poor thing — and rather forlorn. [Hesitates a yninute.] I felt sorry for her. Lady C. A pretty woman always gets }ou on her side. Sir H. I married one. [Lady C. shakes her head at the compliment. 14 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE Don't you think we could let her come and see us now and then, on the quiet, you know. I wouldn't say anything till I had spoken to you Lady C. [Quickly.] No. Sir H. It's years ago. Lady C. It doesn't make any difference. It is giving way and condoning, that makes these things possible. No one who has figured in the Divorce Court shall come here with my consent Sir H. " Forgive us our trespasses " — they do up there. [Half grave, half joking.^ Lady C. I do. But I can't let her come. Sir H. Then what's the good of forgiving ? — won't do her an ounce of good. Lady C. A difference must be made. It is only by holding the marriage tie sacred that you will keep it unbroken. Sir H. Still, you might make an exception. Lady C. It's the exceptions that do the mischief. Sir H. I'm afraid she hoped Lady C. [Passionately hut Jlrmlyl\ I can't help it. I'm sorry. Sir H, \L,ooks at her in dismay, shrugs his shoulders, and then as if he gives up the subject, says'\ Well, I'll go back to the telephone. [Exit. Lady Callender alone, enter Judson. JuDsoN. I thought Sir Henry was here, my lady. Madame Bunsen has called. Lady C. He will be — directly. Madame Bunsen .'' — er — er — ask her — ask her to come in. [Exit Judson. HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 15 Re-enters a minute later, atmotawing Madame Bunsen. [Exit. [Madame Bunsen is in a riding-habit. Her manner is slightly foreign, a little stiff and distant ; there is a note in her voice as if uncertain of her position. Lady C. Oh ! I didn't know you were riding, or I wouldn't have asked you to come in, Madame Bunsen. How do you do ? \Not shaking hands.^ Madame B. How do you do ? ... I was passing and thought I would leave a message for Sir Henry. He spoke to me about a mare for your daughter. Just now I heard of one tliat a pupil may want to sell. Lady C. He will be here directly. Won't you sit down } [Madame B. shakes her head.^ I should like to thank you for all the trouble you have taken with my— Sylvia. [Hesitates before the last word, looks at Madame B., and then says it as if satisfied by the inspection.^ Madame B. [With a quick smile ; she has been grave before.^ But I love her — best of all — she is charming. Lady C. I'm delighted to hear you say so. Madame B. And so fresh — so innocent. Lady C. She enjoys her rides immensely. Madame B. I always keep her beside me when it is possible. We have ridden many miles between green hedges this spring. [Then with a more formal manner.] I fear I must not wait. Sir Henry isn't at home ? 16 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE Lady C. [Rings.] Yes, he is at home. . . . I'm glad your school is doing so well. Enter Servant. Ask Sir Henry to come at once. [Exit Servant. Madame B. It is doing splendidly. More and more come every w^eek. Lady C. It is a remarkable thing for a woman to do. Madame B. [With a shrug.] It's the only thing I can do — I'm not clever. Lady C. [A little curiously.] And you have to do something .? Madame B. [Distantly], Oh yes. Lady C. [Sympathetically, evidently warming to her.] You have no husband or child ? Madame B. No, I am alone. [With a change of tone, looking towards gaiden]. How beautiful those lilies are — how good to have that garden — and in London. Enter Sir Henry. Sir H. My dear Madame Bunsen — this is a surprise. [Shakes hands.] Madame B. I heard of a mare — one minute ago. I think it is just what you want. Could you come and see it on Friday ? It belongs to a pupil who will be at the school that day. Sir H. Why, certainly — with pleasure — delighted. Madame B. You'll not decide on anything else till then, she is so anxious to find a good home for it > HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 17 Sir H. Of course I won't — I'll come and see it on Friday — make a point of it. Madame B, That is excellent. [Turns to Lady C, and says rather distantly .-] Thank you so much for your reception. [^About to go.] Lady C. I'm very glad to have seen you, [Seeing that Madame B. has looked again towards the garden.^ I should like to give you some flowers — but you couldn't carry them now. I'll send you some by Sylvia to-morrow — if I may .'' Madame B. [Surprised.^ Oh, how kind you are ! and it is so charming here. [Shakes }iandsj\ I am glad I came Lady C. So am I. Sir H. I'll see you off. [Exeunt both. [Lady C. goes to window t.., as if to see her mount. Re-enter Sir Henry. Lady C. [Eviderdly looking after Aer.] What an interesting woman. I wonder who she is .'' She said she was alone — it seems strange. Why is it do you suppose .'' Sir H. Been projected into space without any belongings, perhaps. . . . Well, I caught Hamilton, he'd just come in. Lady C. And } Sir H. He'll be here directly. [Looks at his watch.] In two minutes. You'd better go, my dear, he mustn't see you beforehand. Be quite wrong, you know. B 18 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE Lady C. There he is ! [Liste7iing and Imighmg.] I'll go this way. \^Exit hy garden. Enter Servant announcing Mr. Maurice Hamilton. [Exit Servant. Enter Hamilton (42), distinguished-looking, hair slightly totiched with grey' ; he must have charm and mag- netism; a little soldierly in his healing. Sir H. How do you do ? Glad to see you. Hamilton. How do you do .'' \Looks rather anxiously towards the window. Sir H. Sylvia's out, the wife's busy, so I thought I'd see you here. Hamil. [Evidently awktvard.^ Very good of you Sill H. They are making an infernal havoc in the library because it smelt a little of tobacco smoke, and some women are going to take off their cloaks there to-night. Hamil. [Trying not to be atvkward.] I should have thought it would remind them of their own cigarettes. Sir H. Not a bit of it . . . sit down. . . . Had your note. Hamil. I thought it would be the best way. [Pattse, Sir H. Anything I can do for you ? [Looks at him half puzzled.] Up a tree ? Down a hole ? Hamil. [With a sinile.] Both, and you can do a great deal for me HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 19 Siu H. Both ? Hamil. I'd better make a plunge and be done with it. I'm head and ears in love with your daughter. Sir H. Ah ! I'm not surprised — frankly^ not sur- prised. . . . Have you spoken to her ? Hamil. No, I wanted to see you first. Sir H. Oh ! [A little doubtfully.] It's the girl who settles the matter in these days, and the father has to give in, ask what you have a year, and express a hope that there are no past irregularities. Hamil. I know. But there are irregularities, though not of the usual sort Sir H. Oh ! Money, perhaps ; the Hamil. No, not money. There's no difficulty in that direction. ... I should have spoken a month ago, but a chance remark fell from Lady Callender and opened my eyes. I should go away altogether, but — I'm hard hit — I'm a conceited ass perhaps to think that I've a chance — but Sir H. Well .'' Is there any good reason why there shouldn't be ? Out with it, Hamilton, what is it ? Hamil. You think I'm a widower — I'm not. SirH. Not.? Hamil. The woman I married is alive. I divorced her. Sir H. The deuce ! [Considers a minute.] You divorced her ? Hamil. Yes. Two years after marriage. Sir H. Oh ! Well ; this is a pretty kettle of fish 20 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE — divorce — any mention of it is the deuce in this house. Hamil. I was afraid so. Sir H. ^Getting up and walking about in his agita- tion.^ I think you ought to have told us before — when you came to the neighbourhood^ or when we knew you first, at any rate. Hamil. It never occurred to me that you didn't know — but it was a subject you would naturally avoid — and it wasn't a matter of which / was likely to speak. Sir H. How did it happen ? Was she very young ? Hamil. She was nineteen ; I was eight years older. Sir H. Humph ! . . . Dempster was talking of you the other day at the Club. Does he know .'' Hamil. Of course^ and probably thought that you did. He was in India at the time — knew her — ask him about it — anything you please. [^Pause. Sir H. Poor chap — two years Hamil. Not quite two — three before the decree was made absolute. The other man married her, and they vanished — went to the other side of the world, I was told. It's twelve years ago. Sir H. [Feelingli/.] What did you do ? Hamil. Chucked my appointment — travelled — came back. For a long time I didn't dare to think of her at all. Then I tried to imagine her dead ; it was better than the other thing — she is dead to me, and has been for 3'ears. . . . She had to be if I was HAMILTON'S SECOxND MARRIAGE 21 to live. ... I tried to get interested in politics — but I preferred to keep in the background — I've always believed in work. Sir H. Quite right — quite right. [Taitatively.^ When did you fall in love with my little girl } Hamil, The first hour I saw her. Sir H. Oh ! Hamil. She's too young for me, I know that. She is Sir H. Twenty-three. Her mother is eighteen years younger than I am. Hamil. \JVith a rueful smile. ^ Still she may regard me as a fogey. I'm forty-two. But if she doesn't — would it be plain sailing, if I can win her — when she knows what I have told you ? Sir H. My dear cliap, I'll be frank with you. I would rather things had been different ; but if she asks me, I'll not stand in your way — in fact, you may count on me ; but her mother will no more hear of it under the circumstances than she will fly. She has strong views on marriage, and a horror of divorce — guilty or innocent, it's all the same to her, and Sylvia is much more under her influence than under mine. Upon my life, I believe she'd be as shocked as her mother. Hamil. Will you let me put the facts before her .'' Could you put them before Lady Callender } Sir H. \Geliing up and walking up and down.^ Ot course I could — and a nice time I should have. I'm sorry — for I like you. 22 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE Hamil. Thank you. Sir H. [Pause.] You're quite sure the other woman isn't dead ? Hamil. I know absolutely nothing about her. Sir H. When did you hear of her last .-* Hamil. Twelve years ago — she went to the anti- podes with the man who is now her husband. Sir H. Why shouldn't we assume that she's dead ; she's dead to you, let her be so to us ? Hamil. [Firmli/.] No— I couldn't do that. [He turns away. Sir H. [Cordial li/.l Quite right. But it's a precious cul-de-sac. ... I wonder you didn't tell Sylvia about it before you confided in me. Hamil. I didn't think it would be fair — besides it's not a pleasant story. I hoped if you were on my side that you would tell it her — your views might influence hers. Sir H. Not a bit. Women have such confounded opinions of their own in these days. Hamil. It's one of the things I like in her. [Pause. Sir H. Tell her yourself — after all, she'll take it better from you ; but let her think it over before she answers. You'll be sent away with a flea in your ear, I'm afraid. Hamil. I'll risk the flea. And in the meantime ? Sir H. You want me to get one in mine .-^ Hamil. Well Sir H. I'll risk it too — and tackle the mother — HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 23 which is a difficult business, I can tell you — half a dozen fleas wouldn't be equal to that. Hamil. You're splendid. [^Grasping his hand. Sir H. And we'll do it at once [^Rwging the bell.] No time like the present. Hamil. That is what I want Enter Servant. Sir H. Has Miss Sylvia come in yet } Servant. Just now, Sir Henry. Sir H, Ask her if she would come to me here. [Exit Servant. And, my dear Hamilton, you mustn't think that her mother is ungenerous, or anything of that sort — she comes of a good old-fashioned family, that would have been shocked at divorce and — other modern inventions Hamil. It's hardly modern. Sir H. Of course not. Henry VIII. and all kinds of people — but there wasn't much to be said for some of the old usages — I think I'm rather muddling it up; what I mean to say is that she's rather for high think- ing and clean living, and that kind of thing Hamil. So am I — we all are. Sir H. Of course [Trying to remember.] Or is it in good living .''... That would cut both ways, eh } [Laughs.] Here she is. Enter Sylvia (23), graceful and pretty. Sir H. [Going towards her, aiid in a somewhat un- steady voice.] My dear, Mr. Hamilton wants to have — er — a little talk with you [Exit Sir Henry. 24 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE Sylvia. [Who is surprised and awkward.^ How do you do? I've just come from the Debating Society — I told you about it the other day in the garden. Hamil. I remember — and pray what did you debate to-day .'' Sylvia. Well — we had a really good subject. I should like to tell you about it Hamil. [Impetuously .^^ I don't want to hear — I want to tell you something — on which all my happi- ness depends — I love you — you know I love you — it is uppermost — I must say it first of all — I love you Sylvia. Oh !- [Holds out her hands ; he kisses and drops them. Hamil. I don't want you to speak yet, dear, till you've heard — a fact of my life that — even if you could love me — may make you send me away for ever Sylvia. Send you away for ever Hamil. I thought you knew it till a month or two ago — or I should have taken care that you did before I came to-day — but, knowing I love you — will help you, in any case, to deal with me gently. Sylvia. [Bewildered; rdth a little smileJ] It can't be anything serious — and if it is Hamil. [Walking up and down.'] I want to play the game fairly — not to urge you — to put my case before you dispassionately. Sylvia. Tell me what it is Hamil. It is about my first marriage- HAMILTON S SECOND MARRIAGE 25 Sylvia. Yes Hamil. I was twenty-seven, and home from India on six months' leave. A month before my time was up I met a beautiful girl of nineteen — the daughter of an Italian General who had married an English- woman — he was dead, I disliked the mother, but Juliet Sylvia. Juliet ? — it's such a lovely name Hamil. [Nodding.] And she was fit for it. She swept me off my feet — she was like no one I had ever met. I loved her, I was infatuated^ I don't want to disguise that from you. . . . We were mari'ied and on board ship before either of us realised what we were about Sylvia. And then ? Hamil. She was a beautiful, passionate, uneasy creature — impulsive, and so young — that is the excuse I make for her. Sylvia. Excuse — what did she do ? Weren't you happy ? Hamil. I was ; but, looking back, I fear she was not. My work occupied me a great deal — she was thrown on her own resources. Sylvia. But she had friends ? Hamil. Yes, of the sort one makes in India — and a host of admirers always hanging about her. I thought there was safety in numbers, and I am not a jealous or suspicious man — I don't think I had any reason to be till the last. It was impossible to keep her down in the heat — she went up to Simla with 26 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE Mrs. Sinclair, the wife of one of my colleagues ; that was the year after our marriage. Thei-e was a man called Farance up there Sylvia. Yes Hamil. He had come out for a holiday, from England. It never occurred to me that he was bent on mischief — he hung about her as others did — not more, as far as I knew. When I went up to Simla she told me that she had ridden with him sometimes in the early morning — she rode like the wind in a storm — but she seemed delighted to go with me too. I was preoccupied ; there was a threat of cholera below and it worried me — perhaps I didn't notice things as much as I ought to have done — I knew vaguely that she danced with him a good deal, still I never suspected. One day — [A gesture as if he had not yet got over the pai7i and the surprise of it.^ — • she went off with him. Sylvia. Went off with him .'' Hamil. She left the usual note saying she had gone with a man who loved her more than I did. — More! [As if oblivious of Sylvia.] It was so incom- prehensible — for she knew that I adored her, and I thought she cared for me — I suppose 1 was mis- taken. SvLViA. What did you do .'' Hamil. I did the only thing possible to help her — got a divorce — set her free Sylyia. Oh ! Hamil. And the other man married her when the HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 27 formalities were complete. They went to Auckland twelve years ago. Sylvia, But where is she now } Hamil. I don't know. I know nothing about her, Sylvia. She's living ? Hamil. I suppose so. If she were dead I think I should have heard. There's nothing else you need know — my marriage ended more completely than if death had taken it in hand — it's over and finished — and she's another man's wife Sylvia. [fVith a shudder.] Oh, how dreadful — and you loved her so very much ? Hamil. Yes — I did — [With a pause.] — but that is over and finished too, she is dead to me — more than dead. For years I was dazed and cared for nothing — I worked desperately — work is generally a good physi- cian. Then I went to Bexted — a new world — it woke a new life in me, and you came into my heart — without knowing it; gradually you filled every hour of the day — I loved you — loved you— as I had imagined it would never be possible to love any woman again. I thought you knew my position — that your people, at any rate, did— then something your mother said made me realise that you didn't, and that divorce was a horrible thing to her Sylvia. But it is to every one, surely — though I see that it was the only thing you could do, Hamil. It's strange to find people feeling so strongly about it in these days Sylvia. Perhaps we don't belong to these days. 28 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE To us, marriage is the most sacred tie in the world — it can only end with death Hamil. Dearest, marriage is not a ceremony said over two people in a church — it is much more than that. She broke away from all that it meant, or she never had it to give me — it has gone to the other man. She is not in my life any more. You are in my life — I think you love me a little Sylvia. Love you a little — I love you with all my heart — but this makes it impossible. \^With a little shudder.^ Hamil. Don't say that yet, Sylvia — I entreat you to think it over — to take into your heart and soul the story I have told you — the love I have for you — and all that yours would mean to me. Don't let a thing that is ended— that no longer exists — come between us, though if it must be so I Avill respect your feeling — I will go away and you shall never see me again Sylvia. [Slowly\. I'll think it over — I couldn't answer now Hamil. That is what I want, dear, I wouldn't even take an answer — the one I most desire, now. Send for me, for good or ill, when you are sure — I don't feel that I can wait very patiently — let me know my fate soon, yi'akes her hands and kisses them. Goes toivards the door. Looks round and says:^ I will wait. [Sylvia nods as if unable to speak, and sits looking dazed, and straight before her. Curtain. ACT II Scene. — The same. Time. — Four days later. Afternoon. Sir Henry Callender is standing with his hack to the mantelpiece. Lady Callender is sitting rather holt upright in an arm-chair — evidently dismayed. There is silence for a minute or two. Sir Henry pulls out a large white silk handkerchief, and gives a gasp or two ; hut he is brisk and lively as usual. Lady Callender gets up, crosses the room, and stands as if waiting for him to speak. Sir H. [Looking up.] Well, my dear? Lady C. It has been a dreadful shock. Sir H. I thought it would be. Lady C. I wanted it so much. Sir H. [Soothifigly .] You make too much fuss about it. It's such a usual thing in these days. If we hadn't been country cousins we should have taken it for granted that if his wife wasn't dead he had divorced her — or she him Lady C. [Shocked.] Oh no Sir H. My dear, divorce is becoming as common 29 30 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE as — as motor-racing or aj^pendicitis or — anything of that sort — only it hasn't come our way any more than — living a mile from the main road — motors come our way — it will, depend on it, and other things too. Lady C. You do run on so. Sir H. So does the world — it won't stop where it was, or is, never did — new ideas, different ways of thought come along — can't prevent it. Lady C. I wish you had said it was impossible — that you had not allowed him to see her. Sir H. Well, but after all, Sylvia is the person it most concerns. She's three and twenty audit's only fair play that she should decide — fair play to them both. I expect we've given them that, for I've said everything I could for it — felt bound to, he's such a good chap — you probably said everything you could against it, so there you are. Lady C. But if he hadn't seen her — if she had been told of the impossibility Sir H. Humph — she might have broken her heart — I don't think it would have done, I don't really — she's been very sensible, thought it over, taken three days — and if she decides for him we must make the best of it. . . . After all I shouldn't be surprised if the other woman's dead — she ought to be — the least she could do in fact is to be dead. — Have you any idea what she is going to do — Sylvia, I mean ? Lady C. No. She begged me not to speak to her about it again. HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 31 Sir H. So she did me. Lady C. She listened to all my arguments. Sir H. And to all mine — we have done every- thing we can — and she's had a pretty time of it, between us. Lady C. He should have told us before. Sir H. But he thought we knew, till lately. If we had been in London before this year, and he had been seen at our house, some one might have men- tioned it — though things are forgotten so soon, even that might not have happened. People often think you know more about them than you do. Look at the Senior Wrangler who went to the theatre just after taking his degree, and when the audience cheered the play he thought — but you know that story. I daresay Hamilton thought we knew all about him, and looked at the facts of his life with — with sympathy. Lady C. I wonder what Sylvia means to do. Sir H. If she accepts him — so must we — the younger generation to which she belongs and the new world — and the new ways of thought are dif- ferent from the old ones, and we mustn't behave like fogies — at least I mustn't though I am one. Lady C. Or I like a frump ? Sir H. You couldn't — any more than you could look like one. Lady C. Here she is. Enter Sylvia. She looks proud and gravely happy. Sir H. Well, my dear.? 3a HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE Sylvia. I want to see you — to tell you before Mr. Hamilton comes — I have written to him — he will be here directly. Lady C. And— and have you decided Sylvia. [Looking at her mother and putting out her hands to them.^ Oh, I am afraid to tell you. . . . Yes, my darlings, I have decided — and I am so happy — so glad Lady C. Glad ! Sylvia. That the chance is given me to mend that broken life. I think it was splendid of him to have it out with father before he spoke to me — and he didn't urge me — or not more than he could help ; he only told me that he loved me and insisted that I should think it all over before I said yes or no_ And I have — I have ! Lady C. You don't feel that he is still married .'' Sylvia. [With a thrill in her voice J\ No — o — o, mother. That marriage is more completely at an end than if she were dead. Lady C. Sylvia ! Sir H. You're quite right — in my opinion, quite right. Sylvia. For then he might have been thinking of her — loving her all these years. Dreaming of an eternity with her by-and-by. Sir H. Naturally. Sylvia. It would be far worse to marry him, and worse in him to marry again, if she had loved him to HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 33 the last moment of her life ; it would mean forget- fulnesSj or seem like playing her false because she wasn't here any longer. But this is different. Sir H. Quite right. Unless you have good reasons you ought never to marry again — or marry at all in fact, I think there are reasons why people may marry twice — I daresay it will lead to embarrass- ments in the next world — at least it may Lady C. \I)istressed hut affectionate.^ Oh, you do talk such nonsense^ Harry. Sir H. But as you say this is different. Sylvia. She killed his love for her. Sir H. There was nothing to hold them together in fact but the marriage ceremony. Sylvia. And the law annulled that. Lady C. It was a marriage in the sight of God. And she promised to be faithful to him all her life. Sylvia. And in the sight of God she broke that promise, and the law recognised that she had broken it. They became strangers again. She manned another man, and she's that man's wife — not Mr. Hamilton's. Sir H. I should think you made a very good de- bater, Sylvia. And in this instance there's been that most eloquent counsel a woman's heart to plead his cause. Sylvia. Oh, father, but I've used my head too. I've argued with myself,'.leaving my heart out of the question. I have put all the reasons against it before myself c 34 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE Sir H. Oh ! Sylvia. I didn't want to be weak just because- SiR H. Of course not — you have taken counsel — as I say. Lady C. [Slowly.'] And if this woman were in London — if you met her } Sylvia. [Dra>vi7ig back as if she had not considered this.] But she's not Sir H. She's on the other side of the world — he doesn't know where — hasn't seen her for twelve years — more — not since the decree was made abso- lute and she married the other. [Lady C. gives a Utile shudder at " Decree." Sylvia. Surely God and man alike have set him free ? Lady C. And suppose one day you met her, face to face ? Sylvia. I hope I may never do that ! Lady C. But you must realise it — it's quite possible. Sylvia, [Sbwly.] I don't think I should mind — I should know that in heart and thought they were strangers. If he cared, it would be different. [Turfis away distressed.] It's no good, I can't give him up — be kind to me — help me Sir H. [Caressingly.] Kind to you, my dear — why we couldn't be anything else. . . . I'll leave you with your mother, she wants you to be happy — it's the thing she wants most in the world — that's why she hesitates so — that's why. [Exit to garden. Sylvia. [Turning to Lady C] Mother, he's the HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 35 whole world to me. Won't you face it, won't you see it as I do ? She's more than dead to him ; she went out of his life years ago and into another man's. He is free. And you like him .'' You liked him so much at Bexted Lady C. He is the only man I ever hoped you would marry — till I knew this. [Evidently has a long struggle with herself l\ But I will try and look at it with you and your father, since you don't feel as I do about it. [Sylvia kisses her hand grat.efullyJ\ I'll do anything that will make you happy. . . . [Sylvia gives almost a sob of relief. ] He'll be here directly. Sylvia. Yes, he'll be here [Sir Henry is seen near the window.] When he comes send him to me — tell him I shall be by the lavender bushes. I would rather see him out there. [Exit by garden, passing herfalhery who re-enters. [Lady C. makes a little gesture and is about to speak, tvhen Servant enters, followed by Colonel Demp- ster, a military-looking man of about five and forty ; all through the interview it is evident that he has great regard for Hamilton. Servant. Colonel Dempster. [Exit Servant. [The Callenders look rather j)ut out for a vioment, but recover quickly. Sir H. Oh, how do you do ? Col. D. How do you do } [Turning to Lady C] I came to apologise for my absence the other night. Sir H. Don't mention it — that sort of thing will 36 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE occur at the best regulated dinner-parties you know. [Pause.] We are expecting — er — Hamilton. Col. D. I saw him at the Club yesterday — he seemed rather preoccupied. Lady C. You've known him a long time, Colonel Dempster ? Col. D. a very long time. Lady C. And you like him ? Col. D. I've the greatest regard and respect for him. SiK H. ['J'o his wife.] You hear that. CoL. D. [Looking 70und.] Is there [n'ilh a S7»ile] some special reason for this question ? Enter Servant aiinoundng Mr. Maurice Hamilton. Sir H. [Going forward.] Ah, there you are — how do you do ? Heard you were coming. Hamil. [A little awkwardly, after shaking hands with Sir Henry.] How do you do, Lady Callender } [She shakes hands and says nothing. Hamil. I didn't expect to find you here. Col. D. I've only come for five minutes — with an apology. I am going — directly. [Significantly . Hamil. [With a smile.] You needn't. . . . [In a low eager tone to Lady' C] I had a note telling me I might come. Lady C. I know. Hamil, She's not here .'' Sir H. [With a merry nod.] She's in the garden. Hamil. [To Lady C] May go to her .? HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 37 Sir H. She's waiting for you. Hamil. \Turning quickly to the window — when he gets there stops, looks round with a happy face, and says to Sir H., nodding at Dempster.] Tell him. He is the best friend I have. [Exit, Col. D. I think I can make a good guess. As a matter of fact, I have expected it since I saw them together last month. He's a fine fellow — I'm very glad. Lady C. I'm miserable about it CoL. D. My dear lady ! Miserable ? She'll be immensely happy. Lady C, But the divorce ? We knew nothing of it till three days ago. Col. D. Well, but he was on the right side. Lady C. [Shuddeting.^ I hate divorce. Sir H. And I maintain that it is a very wise provision. A man has a wife who doesn't care for him — or has changed her mind — likes somebody else — is unfaithful — best thing he can do is to let her go to the other man — in fact, what else is he to do with her .'' Unless he shoots her — and then he'd be hanged. [To his wij'e.] 1 assure you, my dear, that to object to it only shows that you are old-fashioned and — and Early Victorian. [Appealing to Colonel D.] I believe that's one of the worst things that anyone can be called. CoL. D. Quite. Almost fatal. So bad that it ought to be libellous, whether it's true or not. [Turning to Lady C.J Believe me, my dear lady, you've nothing to be uneasy about. 38 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE Lady C. [With a little sivile a?id skrug.^ I've given way. They are together now. [Looking towards the garden.] Sir H. It's an excellent thing to sweep out pre- judices. Besides^ I always vote for doing the best one can for everybody — especially for a pretty womanj or a man who is a good fellow ; it makes the world easier and pleasanter. . . . Now tell us some- thing about Hamilton. You knew him in India .'' Col. D. Oh yes — and before that — knew all his people. Lady C. Did you know his wife } Col. D. I did indeed. Lady C. And her people ? Col. D. Only the mother — who wasn't much good to her — in a rackety set, and took lovers as the natural accompaniment of marriage, of life, even in middle age. When I knew her she was a widow Sir H. Of course, they always are. Girl badly brought up, no doubt — what was she like ? Col. D, a strange, beautiful creature. I didn't see much of her in India. — It all happened up at Simla. Lady C [ A little cynically.] Like a Kipling story. Sir H. Those stories shouldn't be encouraged — you see they come true sometimes. But they're amusing to read — I thoroughly enjoy them — especially when they — well — when they go a little bit off the rails. Lady C. Oh ! [Impatiently shaking her head, hut HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 39 amused and indulgent, as she always is with her husband.^ Col, D. People were very sorry for him. He was frightfully cut up. Sir H. Of course — of course. Should be myself. What was the other man, Farence — yes, it was Farence — like .'' CoL. D. Good-looking, and women liked him. She bolted with him quite suddenly, no one suspected anything till it was done. Lady C. Was Mr. Hamilton fond of her ? Col. D. Devoted — but he was fearfully over- worked and harassed. He got a divorce — wanted to settle money on her, but she refused it. Sir H. That was decent of her. Col. D. Oh yes — and no matter what she did, she was a charming girl, with nothing vicious about her. She and Farence disappeared, and nobody heard anything more of them — or of Hamilton either, except through the papers, though there was no reason why he should burrow out of sight. Lady C. He was sensitive, of course. I like him for it. Sir H. He took a little place next to us at Bexted a year or two ago. Used to take long, lonely rides — saved me from a nasty spill one day — that's how we came across him. He didn't want to know anybody, we had to force ourselves on him. 40 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE Col. D. Ohj that was it. [GeUi7ig up and making a viovemejit of departure.^ Look here, I'll go before these young people reappear. I should feel de trop. Sir H. Not a bit of it. You can congratulate them. CoL. D. I think I'll do it another time, if you'll let me. \Shak'mg lumds with Lady Callender.] I am glad I came in, if it has given you any comfort. If I had a girl, I should be only too delighted if he married her. ^ Sir H. [Going towards the door with himJ\ And so will she be. [Outside the door.\ Very glad to have seen you. [Re-enters. [Lady C. is standing by the sofa, looking out towards the garden. Sir H. Well, is that all right.'* [She nods and he puts his hand on her arm.^ You know, the fact is you didn't like being worsted after setting up a fine moral fence and saying no one shall get over it. Lady C. [Smiling.] Perhaps that had something to do with it. Sir H. It never does to make a hard and fast rule, it's sure to get some knocks or be kicked aside. An open road to walk on — an open mind to live with, and you are safe. Lady C. I know. Sir H. [Folloiving direction of her eyes] Here they come. She's radiant! What a nice chap he looks — HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 41 I don't wonder — should do it myself if I were a woman — Ah ! [Sound of satisfaction.^ [Hamilton and Sylvia appear at window. They hesitate for a minute and then enter. Sylvia goes up to her mother. Sylvia. [Joyfully]. Mother dear ! [Lady C. folds her to her heart and kisses her.] And Maurice Sir H. It's evidently all right. [lVri7igs Hamil- ton's hand.] My dear fellow, may you indeed be happy. God bless h.tv {—[Putting his arm round Sylvia.] — and make her so. Hamil. I will — I promise you I will. [Turning to Lady C] And you will trust me .-' Lady C. [Brightening up.] Yes, I give her to you — I trust her to you. [Gives him her hand.] Sylvia. [Shy, but radiant.] I want to tell you both — that your child is the happiest, proudest girl in the world. Hamil. That's good hearing for me. Enter Guy Armitage. There is a little hesitation and awkwaidness which he peiceives and evidently does not knotv how to account for. Guy. [Hesitating by the door.] How do you do, everv one .'^ Sir H. Oh ! — Come in, Guy Sylvia. How do you do } [ISlods to him and turns to Hamilton. Guy. [Looking round.] Anything going on .'' Sir H. Oh ! Well 42 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE Lady C. Guy, dear ! come in. [Guy comes forward, and evidently takes in the situation. Pause. Sir H. Well Guy. [Constrained, and looking at Hamilton and Sylvia, who are standing together.^ The Governor sent me round. Clara's a bit dull, and he thought we might get up a party and go somewhere. Sir H. Capital ! We ought to do" something'to- night — don't you think so — [looking towards Sylvia a7id Hamilton] — ^just the time .'' Sylvia. Not to-night — I couldn't, dear. \Tui'ns to Hamilton asain. Lady C. [To Guy.] And I don't think / could. You must tell your father that — that Sir H. Why shouldn't you all come and dine here .'' That's a good idea, eh .'' What do you say, Sylvia.'* Sylvia. [ Who has been talking beamingly to Hamil- ton.] Yes ? Say to what } I didn't hear. [To Guy.] I'm dreadfully rude — do forgive me. Sir H. [To Lady C] Look here — is it going to be any sort of secret } Lady C. You must ask Sylvia. Sylvia. Why should it be a secret .'' Especially from Guy. [Looking up at Hamilton.] He has always been one of us. [Guy evidently perceives what is coming, and pulls himself together. Lady C. Yes — and always shall be. [Evidently fond of him.'\ HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 43 Sylvia. [Going forward to him.'] Guy dear, wish me — wish us both — happiness. I'm engaged to Maurice Hamilton. Guy. [Rather ruefully for a moment^ Thought there was something in the air when I came in. [Recovering^ I wish you everything — everything in the world that's good. You know it — dear old girl, Hamilton [holding out his hand] you're in luck. Hamil. Yes, I'm in luck. Guy. [ Unconsciously retreating backwards towards the piano.] When did it happen ? Sylvia. Just now. Sir H. No one knows it yet outside this room. You came in at the — the, what d'ye call it, psycho- logical moment. Guy. When's it to be .'' Sir H. Nothing like Guy for coming straight to the point, eh ? Hamil. It's to be soon — as soon as possible ; there's nothing to wait for. Sylvia. Oh, I didn't say that. Sir H. Trousseau, finery } As much as you like, my dear. Guy. It's rough on me, anyhow. Lady C. Rough on you } Guy. I sha'n't be here to pew-open at the wedding. Sir H. Oh ! Not here ? Guy. I told the Governor this morning — going to make tracks for Japan Sylvia. Tracks for Japan .'' 44 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE Guy. That's it. I want to see what the world's like the other way up. Sir H. Oh! Guv. [Sole?nnli/.] But 1 don't know how you'll get through it without me, Sylvia. Neither do I. Couldn't you put the Japanese off for a bit ? Guy. [^Backing towards the piano — looks round him with somewhat forced merriment.^ I fear not. It's now or never for the little Japanese — the time has come and the Governor's willing — so we'll have a little tune. [Begins to play. " Did you ever see the devil " [Lady C. makes a little gesture. Lady C. That everlasting song ! Sir H. He'd sing it in church if he came, wouldn't he? Guy. Rather, [Sings. [Sylvia, laughing, goes a step nearer the piano. Sir H. [Joi?is in Instill/.^ " Did you ever see the devil With his wooden pail and shovel " Enter Servant with a note, hands it to Sir Henry. [Guy continues to play softly. Sir H. [Reading note.^ It's from Madame Bunsen. Guy. [Stops.^. Oh yes, I forgot, I meant to tell you she's going away for a bit — this afternoon. HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 45 Sylvia. What does she say, father ? Sir H. Says she has to go to the country suddenly ; will I wait a week or ten days about the mare ? Of course I will. Guy. By George, you should have seen her this morning whirling round that school Sylvia. Isn't she wonderful .? I do like her so. You know she came here the other day, Guy .'' Guy. No ; I didn't hear that — came here .'' Sylvia. And mother fell in love with her — sent her some flowers yesterday — Madame Bunsen was so pleased — she almost wept. Lady C. I should like to know her history — there was something very attractive in her. Sir H. Handsome woman — you've seen her — haven't you, Hamilton ? Hamil. No; but I should like to — can't think why I haven't — she goes out with her pupils, doesn't she .'' Sylvia. Yes ; but she always takes us outside London, right into the country, as fast as possible. You must see her — Maurice. [In a tone that shows the name is new to her.^ Hamil. I want to see her. Sylvia. [To Hamilton.] You might come to the school and look on at me too. Hamil. [Nods to her with a tender smile J\ I will. [Guv begins to play again, the Lohengrin Wedding March, and looks up at Sylvia half derisive, half pathetic. 46 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE Sylvia. [Laughing and confused.] You horrid boy ! [Lifts his hand from the keyboard. Hamilton, who is standing well away from thern, looks amused, and says nothing. Lady C. Some people won't have that March; they say it's unlucky. Sir H. [Who is looking at Madame Bunsen's letter, turning to Hamilton.] Can't make out her name. Is it Julia — no Suzette ? — curious hand she writes ? [Hands letter to Hamilton. [Guy who has got his harid free from Sylvia, triumpha7itly launches into the Wedding March again. Sir H. You young scoundrel ! [Laughing, turns from Hamilton, and going toivards Guy. Sylvia takes Guy's hands off the piano again, with a happy laugh. H amil. [ Whom no one notices, looks at the letter as if tran.sfixed.] Juliet ! Sir H. Let's have the devil again. [Begins to sing. [Guy plays it again, the group at the piano sing. Hamilton stands alone , petrified — the letter falls from his hand. Curtain. ACT III Scene. — Sylvia's sitting-room — a prettt^ white room with lowers, Sfc. — m%iUion window. Time. — Ten days later, morning. Hx\MiLTON and Sylvia discovered sitting toscther. Sylvia is happy all through this scene — conjident in the future. Hamilton is moody and absent, jerky a?id happy all by turns. Sylvia. But, Maurice dear, I thought you wanted to be in London. I have always lived in the coun- try, except for three months every spring, and don't mind how quiet it is, nor how far away — I shall have you and that is all I want. Hamil. [He lifts her ha7ids and kisses them.^ And you won't miss the Debating Society .'' Sylvia. No, I shall miss nothing, and the Debating Society won't have married people. ... I long to explore the library at Briary Way — there are such lovely rows and rows of books — I should like to have a little writing-table of my own there Hamil. You shall explore as much as you like — you shall have six writing-tables Sylvia. No, thank you, one will do. . . . But I 47 48 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE am certain to make all manner of changes. I shall love to fuss about the house as mother does — I look forward to it as part of — of- Hamil. Part of the show ? [Amused.] You shall fuss to your heart's content. Sylvia. I can't believe that f shall be living there with you, in a little while. ... I think we ought to have loose chintz covers in the drawing-room — those brocaded ones are handsome — I only saw them once of course — but Hamil. You shall have covers and curtains and everything else you like, my dear. I was wonder- ing to-day if you would care for some ponies to drive. 1 might get you a pair. Sylvia. I should love them — but we will ride too — long rides ? 1 can take them now — or all my lessons will have been thrown away. You will let me ride .'' Hamil. Yes. [With a little change in his manner.] — If you like Sylvia. Madame Bunsen will be quite cut up at your stopping my lessons. She was so kind to me. She didn't say much, you know — she never talked to the pupils — but she generally kept me beside her on all those long rides into the country this spring. [With a little happy sigh.] Oh ! it was lovely ! I think she knew how much I liked being near her. Hamil. [Trying to hide his dismay.] Did she ? Sylvia. [Nods.] I used to find myself looking in HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 49 her direction and listening to the least word she said. I mean to go and see her when she comes back. Hamil. Why should you — better not. Sylvia. Oh, but I should like to — and to tell her about you. Hamil. I would rather you didn't Sylvia. [Surpnsed hut unsuspicious.^ Then 1 won't. She is not back yet. Hamil. I know. [^Fhis is evidently a slip and he adds quickly :] I inquired — I was passing. Perhaps you might send her a note of apology — that would be enough — and we shall be far away soon. \^Pause. He crosses the room. Sylvia. Do you know, Maurice, I think you have taken a dislike to your house in Kensington Square } Hamil. No, but I don't want to live there — at present. Sylvia. [Quite unsuspiciously .^ I wonder you took a house in London. Hamil. I bought it on an impulse from Fisher, who was going off to Vienna. That day at Bexted when we stayed behind instead of going to hear your father's speech — I thought, for the first time, that perhaps you cared [Sits. Sylvia. [Softly.] I did ! Hamil. I was always a castle-builder, and when I saw that house, I had a vision of your going up and down stairs — lately I've sometimes fancied I could hear your dress rustle and see you coming D 50 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE down ready for the theatre or the Opera — you told me once that you would like to go often to the Opera — [she 7iods] — you shall. Sylvia. What else have you imagined, Mr. Dreamer ? Hamil. Quiet evenings in the winter, sitting by our fireside — you and I Sylvia. Opposite each other, like Darby and Joan ? Hamil. Perhaps sometimes they sat on the same side ? Sylvia. I wonder Hamil. I think it's probable. . . . You don't want dinner-parties or to know crowds of people ? Sylvia. No, I don't. . . . [Tenderly.'] All the castles you have built shall stand and the dreams come true. Oh, we'll be so happy but — [a little puzsled] — I don't think you believe it yet. Hamil. Sometimes I don't . . . [Gets up and walks about, then stops suddeiily.] I can't. . . . Say that it will go on — that you love me. Sylvia. I love you, I have said that a good many times lately Hamil. And the old mistake — my mistake, makes iK> difference — you are sure } Sylvia. I will make up to you for it Hamil. And nothing shall come between us .'' You've gripped the facts — you know what you are doing ? Sylvia. I gripped them that first day, and I have HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 51 thought it all out since — I know what I am doings nothing shall come between us. Hamil. [ With his arms round hcr.'\ And you don't mind the quiet marriage ? Sylvia. I like it bettei-, there will be more you in it, and less crowd, than there would have been if we had the usual fuss. Hamil. And then we'll go away to the other side of the world. Sylvia. [Quickly.'] Not to the other side of the world — we'll keep to this side, oxir side. Hamil. We will — our side — France and Spain. Sylvia, Or Italy — I've never been Hamil. [Uneasily.] Not Italy. But we'll go to heaps of beautiful places Sylvia. That you've never seen with any one else. [ With more meaning than she knows in her voice.] Hamil. [Repeating tenderly.] That I've never seen with anyone else. [Passionately.] Oh ! Once more — it's too good to be true. I'm not too old for you, too battered, too grumpy and moody } Sylvia. No ! And battered } You are not bat- tered. Hamil. [Taking her hands and kissing them.] I love you. Sylvia. [Looking at her own hands, which he still holds.] When is my ring coming back } I wish it hadn't been too big, I want to wear it. Hamil. To-morrow. [With a change of manner.] By the way, I've something else for you ; I'd forgotten 52 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE that, what a ruffian I am ! [Feels in his pocket.^ But where is it ? Sylvia. Oh ! Hamil. Oh ! [^limicking her injtin.^ You said that just like your father. [Kisses her. Sylvia. [Lcntghing.] Did I ? Hamil. [Quite happy atid gay.^ Where the deuce is it ? [Feelijig in his pockets.^ By Jove ! What did I do with it .'' What an ass I am, it's not there — I can't have lost it. Sylvia. What is it } Do tell me. Hamil. It's something in a little case Sylvia. Another ring .'' Hamil. [Still busy Tiith his pockets.^ No, not another ring — yet — something else — to wear round your neck. Oh ! I suppose it's all right [Sits down. Sylvia. [Laughing.] What have you done with it .'' Tell me what it's like. Enter Servant with little package on tray. Hamil. By Jove ! Is this it — perhaps I dropped it — Oh no, it's too big. Sylvia, [leaking package. Exit Servant.] Why! It's Guy's writing. He's coming in this afternoon to say good-bye. [Opens it.] What a lovely bangle ! It's a wedding gift. Oh, Maurice ! a wedding gift, the first one I've had. Hamil. They'll come Sylvia. [Opens a note and reads.] "Dear Sylvia, — I'm not going to see you this afternoon, I've funked saying ' Good-bye,' and I'm off. Every good wish. HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 53 Wear this sometimes in remembrance. Renewed congratulations to Hamilton. Your affectionate old playfellow, Guy." — Guy's gone ! . . . Oh, I am so sorry ! — I shall miss him. Hamil. He's a good chap — what an awfully nice bangle. [Business. Sylvia. [Business with it.] Isn't it a dear ? But why — why didn't he come — I'm so sony not to see him again — you can't think what he has been — all my life. His mother was my mother's greatest friend — that's why he calls her Aunt Peggotty. Hamil. I know, and you are all very fond of him — I'm awfully sorry for him, poor chap. ... I say, do you mind if I rush back to the House and see if that thing is there ? I might have left it in the cab, and if so I'll telephone to Scotland Yard — I'm rather uneasy about it. I shouldn't be more than a quarter of an hour gone. [Gets up suddenly.] Let's go together. Come with me — in a taxi. Sylvia. No. Go alone if you don't mind ; I'll wait for you here. You'll be quicker without me, and I'm rather upset at not seeing Guy again. Hamil. [With a little sympathetic sound.] Of cou ^e you are ! I'll be back in a quarter of an hour. [ Turns to go, then suddenly comes hack, takes her face between his hands and looks at it gravely.] My dearest, I love you ! [Exit Hamilton. [Sylvia alo?ie, sits thinking, then gets up and makes business about the room. Looks at her bangle, rings the bell. 54 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE E?der Servant. Sylvia. Judson, has the dressmaker sent .'' JuDsoN. Noj miss. Sylvia. Let me know if she does. JuDsoN. Yes, miss. [Exit. [Sylvia looks at her batigle again, puts it in the case, says "Dear old Guy " — goes to piano — plays a full minute or two. Enter Judson. JuDsoN. Could you see Madame Bunsen, Miss ? Sylvia. Madame Bunsen.'' Oh yes, certainly. Ask her to come in. Enter Madame Bunsen. She is in walking dress. Sylvia. \Going Jortvard and holding out her hand.^ Madame Bunsen, I thought you were away still Madame B. I have come back suddenly — sooner than I expected — I only went on business — I cannot bear the country, unless I am riding with my pupils. \Sylvia motions to her to sit. Sylvia. Oh ! But it's lovely — you seemed to like it on all those rides this spring. Madame B. That was different. . . . Just as I was starting to come back I had a telegram — that is why I am here. Sylvia. A telegram .-' Madame B. I heard of a mare before I went away — I told Sir Henry. It belongs to one of my pupils •who is going to Egypt. He promised to wait before deciding on anything Sylvia. Yes, but HAMILTON'S SECOND MAKRIAGE 55 Madame B, She is going sooner than she expected, and telegraphed to the school. It was sent on to me. I got it this morning at the station — they ran from the house with it — she is so anxious to sell the mare — I think it is just what you want — don't say you have one. Sylvia. I haven't here^ that is — but Madame B. Sir Henry told me the one you had in the country was no good for London — that it had a mouth like a money-lender's conscience Sylvia. I know, but Madame B. He hasn't bought you one ? Sylvia, No, but I don't want one — now. I am going abroad perhaps. Didn't you get my father's letter ? Madame B. Oh no ; has he written about it ? Sylvia. Yes, to the school. Madame B. They only sent on the telegram, I haven't been there yet — I hurried here first. What did he say ? Sylvia. He wrote to tell you that — it is quite sad — [?dth a happy sriiile] — I'm not coming to the school any more. Madame B. Oh, I am sorry — you are the pupil I have liked best — I shall miss you so. Why is it ? Sylvia. I fear there will be no time for any more lessons just at present — I'm — I'm going to be married — quite soon. Madame B. [Impulsively holding otd her hands.'] But that is good news, I'm delighted. I have looked at 56 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE you sometimes and felt you would be so much loved — and now it has come true. Sylvia. Thank you, dear Madame Bunsen. Yes, I am much loved Madame B. That is why you look so happy ! I am not surprised, of course. I thought it was coming. I knew it. Sylvia. But why ? Madame B. Oh — oh — I could see it — he's devoted to you. Sylvia. You don't know him ? Madame B. But I have seen him very often lately, and any one could tell that he loved you ; it was in his face Sylvia. He went to ask if you were back this morning, but he didn't say he knew you. [Puzzled.] I wonder Madame B. Oh, but he doesn't really — he wouldn't call it knowing. He's delightful. You've known him a long time ? Sylvia. A little for a long time, but intimately — only — not quite a year. He is our neighbour in the country. Madame B. Not quite a year — but that is a long time — unless you are cold — unless you are insensible — and you are so tender. You have had time to love him — to adore him. A year I A lifetime can be lived in a year. Sylvia. [Carried arvay hy the other's emotion.] It doesn't seem long, it has gone so quickly. HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 57 Madame B. [Not noticing Sylvia's remark and going on quickly .\ I married — for the first time — a man I'd only known a month. Sylvia. For the first time ! You've been married twice ? Madame B. Yes, twice. And the first time I might have been happy, I could have been — \in a lotv voice] — but it was all a sad mistake — for him and me too — and the second time I was miserable, because — [with a shudder] — but he's dead — one mustn't speak ill of the dead — and I oughtn't to speak of these things at all — you must forgive me. [Rising, and her manner becomes a little distant and straitied, as if she remembered that intimacy was not desirable.] Let me give you my con- gratulations. It's not likely that we shall meet again — unless you come back after you are married. I am glad I came to-day — and that I came the other day too, and saw your mother — she was very kind to me. Sylvia. She liked seeing you so much. Madame B. And now I know what you look like in your home. Sylvia. This is my own little sitting-room. Madame B. [Walking round it.] It looks like you. ... I shall think of you here. [Stopping by the win- dow] There is the garden, I shall imagine you walking in it with your bridegroom Sylvia. I hadn't thought of him by that name. I notice that you so often use words that seem almost foreign, and you make your sentences sometimes as if you were not English. 58 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE Madame B, My father was Italian, and I suppose even modes of speech descend to one. Sylvia. [Fagtieli^.] Italian.'' Madame B. Yes, Italian. . . . Well, I'm glad I came — I wonder if ever I shall see you again — per- haps not. Good-bye. I hope you will be very happy — that he loves you — loves you — not a little, but with all his heart, before all things — before his work — before everything. Sylvia. He does — I know he does. Madame B. Dear child, I am glad — it must be such joy — and may you give him as much as he does you. Sylvia. I do — I will. Madame B. [With a sigh.] Good-bye. [Takes her hand, holds it, and then impulsively and yet half afraid kisses her. Sylvia. Dear Madame Bunsen, I shall never forget you. I hope you will be happy too — in the future — you must have had so much trouble, and yet you look so young. Madame B. I'm thirty-three. Slyvia. And you've been married twice ! Madame B. [As she half turns to go.] Twice. The first time at nineteen — and the second time •when I was twenty-two. Sylvia. The second time when you were twenty- two ! But how soon your happiness was over — the first time. Madame B. It hardly came — I waited for it — but it never came. HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 59 Sylvia. He died so soon ? Madame B. He didn't die. Sylvia. He didn't die ? [Looking at her doubtfully. Madame B. He divorced me. Sylvia. Oh ! [Sb7i>li/.] He divorced you ? [An almost unconscious suspicioji takes possession of her. Madame B. Ah ! I oughtn't to have said it — you are shocked. Why did I ? You mustn't repeat it, not to any one in the world. Sylvia. I am sorry, and I will not repeat it. [She has grofvn cold, and almost f tightened, she is watching Madame Bunsen, who goes towards the door, then stops to speak again. Madame B. Good-bye. My congratulations to Mr. Armitage. Sylvia. To Mr. Armitage ? He has gone away. Didn't his sister tell you .'* Madame B. No. [With a smile and forced hnghttiess^ He'll be back soon, of course .'' Sylvia. Not for a year. Madame B. Not for a year I But — it's Mr, Armitage you're going to many .'' Sylvia. Oh no ! You've made a mistake. It is Mr. Maurice Hamilton. Madame B. [ With a cry, staggers hack.'\ Maurice I [She tries to smother the name, Sylvia. [^Bewildered and hardly able to speak.'\ You know him } 60 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE Madame B. [^Fryiiig to control herself.^ I did — a long- time ago — he is very clever — he is hke no one else in the world — and you love him — you will make him happy Sylvia. \Holds out her hand as if to prevetit her from going nwni/.^ Madame Bunsen, were you — was it t/ou he divorced ? [ Thei/ look at each other for a woment before Madame B. can make herself answer. Madame B. Yes, he divorced me. I deserved it ; it was my fault, not his. You knew — he had divorced some one ? Sylvia. Yes. He told me you were on the other side of the world. Madame B. [With a little harsh laugh.] And I thought he was there — I never dreamt he was back in England — and here ! You must let me go — I would give my life not to have come here to-day. It was as if something irresistible drove me — to you — to this house. [Goes towards the door. Enter Hamilton. [They stare at each other Jor a moment in silence, Sylvia unconsciously retreats, pale and stony. Hamil. [Looking at Madame Bunsen, staggered.] Juliet ! Madame B. Yes, Maurice, it is I. Hamil. What are you doing here .'' Madame B. It was chance, it was fote, it was not intentional HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 61 Hamil. What did you come for? What does it mean ? Madame B. You must let her tell you. [Bows her head as if stricken.] [Exit Madame Bunsen. [Sylvia afid Hamilton are left staring at each other aghast and silent. Hamil. What did she come for } Sylvia. It is Madame Bunsen ? Hamil. Yes. Sylvia. But you knew before; why didn't you tell me.-^ Hamil. I couldn't. Sylvia. You went to try and find her this morn- ing Hamil. 1 sent — to ask if she had returned — I couldn't explain then Sylvia. Why did you say she was on the other side of the world } Hamil. I thought she was — till the hour we were engaged . Sylvia. Till the hour we were engaged } Hamil. We were at the piano — do you remember Guy came in — while he was playing a note was brought to your father.'' Sylvia. Yes Hamil. He gave it to me to read. I recognised her writing — her name, Juliet. Sylvia. Oh, how cruel ! This is why you have been so strange at times .'' Hamil. Yes. 62 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE Sylvia. You should have told me. Hamil. I couldn't. I have not known an hour's peace since — even with you [A long pause. Sylvia. [Slotvlt/.] Maurice. It's no good — I can't do it Hamil. What do you mean } Sylvia. It undoes it — it puts an end to it all. Hamil. Why should it put an end to it all.? What did she say .'' Sylvia. It's nothing that she said. But can't you see that it's diflferent — it's different altogether. When I thought she was thousands of miles away, when I had never seen her, or heard her voice — when I knew nothing about her — then she was an abstraction, a legend, she was dead, she was more than dead, but now I couldn't do it — couldn't — couldn't. Hamil. We will go away — we will go to the farthest ends of the earth if you like. Sylvia, It would make no difference. I've known her, taken her hand, she's a living woman — I can't do it. Hamil. Why should that make such a difference .'' She's another man's wife. Sylvia. The other man is dead ! Hamil. Dead ! [Goes back a step. Sylvia. Didn't you know ? Hamil. I knew nothing about her. Nothing since the day I heard she was married to Farence and had gone to Auckland with him. I sent my lawyer to the school this morning, and told him to offer her any HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 63 sum of money I could manage — to say and do any- thing that was possible to induce her to go back — to go anywhere — out of Europe — that can be done still. [Pause. Sylvia. It would be no good^ I couldn't do it — Maurice, it is all over Hamil. But explain — why should you throw me over now ? Sylvia. [Passionateli/ .] How could I marry a man knowing that another woman whom I'd seen and heard, remembered his loving her, remembered his kisses — his caresses just as now I had them — remem- bered their wedding day — and knew by her own memories all that he said to me — that she went over it all in her thoughts — sat alone — by her fireside, imagining the very manner in which we sat by ours — even the things we said — oh — no, no. Hamil. It was the other man she cared for — she wouldn't feel all this Sylvia. She would — she would — a woman knows. If she were dead it would be different Hamil. You said when we had our talk in the garden, that you felt she was less my wife than if she were in her grave, and she and I had loved each other to the end. For then there might have been times when I wondered if in some other existence she knew of the new life I had made — ^and felt that I had forgotten he?- Sylvia. [Hopelessli/.'\ Yes — I said it. Hamil. But now that is impossible — she and I are absolutely apart. 64 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE Sylvia. I know — I meant it — I had thought it all outj but I'd not been put to the test. Now I know it would be easier to marry you remembering her dead — than as it is. I argued to the contrary with my mother — I had an answer to all her arguments — but words are only sounds, and theories are dry husks Hamil. Dry husks! [With a miserable half-laugh.] It sounds like the Debating Society. Sylvia. Oh yes, if you like — and the Debating Society is no good. Nothing is any good but human experience, then one knows^one's instinct — one's heart tells one. It isn't as if I had seen her just this once — though even that would be enough — I saw her every day for weeks. She kept me beside her as we rode into the country twice a week this spring. Once I went early to the school and met her by the entrance ; she held my hand for a minute — just now she kissed me — it went through me — thrilled me — there was meaning in it all — it was this. Hamil. And you are not made of the stuff, you've not the courage to throw everything to the winds for the man you love, as thousands of women do .^ Sylvia. She did, I suppose, for the other man — and brought misery on you. I've not that courage. I believe I would go down a precipice for you, but not if it dragged you down. But this is beside the point — it's no question of courage. Hamil. Have you no thought of my happiness, no consideration for my point of view ? HAMILTON S SECOND MARRIAGE 65 Sylvia. Oh, I have, but I can't do it — it's no good, Maurice, I can't : it's the penalty of the sin that she committed. Hamil. And why should it be visited on me ? Sylvia, [^Staring at hhn, and speaking as if she were listening to some one, or to some higher self.^ But that is the mystery of it all. The wrong thing is done, the crooked deed put into the world, and shame and misery hang on to it and trail after it on and on, ever so far, through generations perhaps — so many wrong things are done, and innocent people suffer for them — that is the tragedy of the world. I've thought it out so often — it's the Debating Society, you'll say again — no matter what it is — it is wrecking us. Hamil. [Impatiently, desperately.^ Cast everything to the winds and come to me. We love each other. Sylvia. I can't, I can't do it, Maurice, now that I've seen her. I even love you differently — I shall love you always and think of you — but differently. Hamil. Oh, it's madness, it's folly. Sylvia. Yes, it may be. But the great events in our lives are shaped by folly as well as by wisdom. I can't do it — I can't indeed. I could never feel your arms round me again, and not remember the woman who, perhaps, was thinking of us — -of all she had lost — that I had Hamil. Heaps of women marry men who have divorced their wives. Sylvia. Other women may, I can't. My own happiness is wrecked on this discovery as well as E 66 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE yours — and somehow I'm so sorry for her — for a moment I saw into her heart and soul as she stood there. — Can't you understand how impossible it has all become ? We are not all made alike. It is no good blaming me for what I am, or blaming her per- haps for what she is — / am so made that I cannot be or do all that was my dearest hope an hour ago. Hamil. It's useless, I see it. I say it — to my desolation and misery. I scout it, and am desperate. I tell myself that what you say is nonsense, but I feel the truth of it. Give me youf hands once more — [bends over her hands] — my dear — it has been too good a dream to come true. But I shall be better for it all my life. Forgive me all the pain I've caused you. I suppose I went too far away from the world in which men and women live now in my search for happiness — but it's over — and I've left you where I can never reach you. [Goes towards door. Sylvia. [ With a sob.] Maurice ! Maurice ! What will you do — where will you go ? Hamil. [A gesture of dismay — despair — then turns and hesitates.] Kiss me once more, Sylvia ! Sylvia. I can't — [retreating a step] — it is different — it would feel strange — and wrong Hamil. [Bitterly.] You are right — it is different. . . . Good-bye. [Exit Hamilton. Sylvia. [Desperately, holding ont her arms, fvith a cry, to the closed door.] He's gone I — He's gone. Curtain. ACT IV Scene. — Hamilton's shtdy iti Kensington Square. A comfortable room, with hooks, tvriting-table, easy chaiis, (JJ'C. Writing-table to R.c. Fire burning hi grate which faces audience. Door h.c. Window r. Lamp on table, SfC. Time. — Eight months have elapsed. Late afternoon. Hamilton discovered sitting at a writing-table, he arranges papers, t^-c. Business. Enter Servant with letters on tray aiid evening paper, which he puts on the writing-table. Hamil. Oh — thank you. [^Fakes letters, throws paper on writing-table. Becker makes business at the Jire — p2its on wood, SfC. Hamil. [Looking up from letter and speaking with animation.^ Oh, Becker, I want to tell you that this house is sold, the matter was concluded this after- noon. I shall be going abroad again in a month, and evei-ything here will be — finished up. Tell the servants — I wish them to know as soon as possible. Of course I shall do anything I can for them. Becker. Yes, sir. They'll be very sorry. We all 67 68 HAMILTON'S SECOND MAR HI AGE hoped that as the house didn't go off while you were away that perhaps you would settle down a bit. Hamil. Not in England. Becker. It's remarkable it should sell directly you come back, sir, and it didn't all the time you were away. Hamil. Perhaps the agents weren't energetic enough. Becker. Tliere was a good many come after it too. One lady came every month, with an agent's order — but she wouldn't look at it till you were back. I'd like to know if it is her that's bought it. Hamil. No, it's a parson. A lady, what sort of a lady. Becker. Well, quite a lady, sir — Mrs. Enfield her name was; she came again to-day. I told her you were back, and she said she'd call again to-morrow. You see I didn't know it was sold. Hamil. Curious thing. . . . Well, the parson has it, Becker, so I'm afraid she can't. You'll tell the servants what I've said. [i/e turns to the table. \_Exit Becker. [Hamilton looks at his letters again and puts them aside, gets up, takes tip paper, stops, puts it down, pokes the Jive, lights a cigai-ette, sits down doggedly as if determined to shut out everything. Enter Becker. Becker. Colonel Dempster has called, sir ; will you see him } HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 69 Hamil. [^Looks over his shoulder as Becker enters.] Ah ! [^Jmnps up cjnickly at the name.] Certainly. Ask him to come in. [Exit and re-enter Becker. Becker. Colonel Dempster. E7iter Col. Dempster. [Exit Becker. Col. D. My dear fellow, I'm so glad to have caught you. Hamil. [Going forward.] I'm awfully glad to see you ! [Grasping his hand. CoL. D. Was vexed to be away when you returned. However, here I am. [Takes off his coat.] You got back a week ago, I hear ! Glad to be in England again } [They sit. Hamil. No, only came back for some business — and to see you — going away again directly things are tidied up here. CoL. D. H'm, sorry for that — hoped you were thinking better of it, was afraid you weren't though, when I saw the board up outside. Hamil. It will be pu led down to-morrow. The house is sold — matter concluded to-day Col. D. [With a grunt.] What are you going to do } Hamil. Don't know [Pause, hands the cigarettes. CoL. D, [Lights one.] Not made up your mind 1: Hamil. Some idea of going to Egypt for the fag- end of the winter — wish you'd come with me Col. D. Can't, I'm afraid. I should like it. . . . Seen any one since you came back ? 70 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE Hamil. No. . . . Have you seen any one lately ? Col. D. Everybody, been here all the time. Hamil. [Urieasili/.] You know what I mean. Col. D. Of course I do, but I was afraid to men- tion it. Hamil. You needn't, so go on ; I'm not a senti- mental fool — that's all over — though I curse myself at intervals for having disturbed her life. Col. D. Well, she's got over it too — pretty quickly. [Hamilton looks up.] You don't seem to know .'' Hamil. What.? Col. D. She's going to marry that boy. Hamil. You mean Armitage ? [Soimd of dismay.] Well, he's a lucky chap. Col. D. Am not sure that I agree with you, I was rather disgusted, to tell you the truth ; might have waited a year, at least. Hamil. My dear Dempster, she's the sweetest girl on earth. A heart's often caught in the rebound. I am glad that I didn't cost her as much as I feared. [Pause.] I don't feel sure that at the back of her head or the back of her heart she wasn't always in love with him — but nothing occurred to make her aware of it till I upset her peace. Col. D. Well, I must say I thought she was fond of you from the look of matters. Hamil. She was. And she's a clever girl, or thinks herself one, and she liked talking to a man a good deal older than herself, liked winning him. She was probably a little bit in love with the situation, HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 71 and a good deal more with her own splendid courage and compassion. CoL, D. Humph. Where do the splendid courage and compassion come in } Hamil. Compassion for the mull I'd made of my life — coui'age when she'd reasoned it out with her- self and took me in spite of all the prejudice against divorce in which she had been brought up— and the opposition of the mother. Col. D. She should have stuck to you. Hamil. She would^ but for — what happened, I perfectly understand her point of view. CoL. D. Well, I don't — I dined there a fortnight ago. Am glad to say I wasn't put next the young lady, or I mightn't have been very agreeable. Hamil. I wonder if she ever thinks of me ? CoL. D. I'm coming to that. After we went up- stairs, she managed to get me into a corner, and asked after you. Hamil. What did you say .'' CoL. D. Wanted to know when you were coming home. Hamil. Anything else ? CoL. D. Said she'd give the world if some happi- ness would come to you. Hamil. [Sound of derisio7i.] One doesn't get that very often — doesn't matter ! 1 shall take the make- shifts and get along, I daresay. Anything else ? Col. D. She told me — I think she must have meant me to say it to you, somehow — that now she n HAMILTON'S SECOND MARllIAGE couldn't marry anybody else — but Guy — she'd known him always Hamil. [A little cynicaUfif.^ That's it — depend upon it she cares for him more than she imagines. Thank God she does. CoL. D. Callender told me the boy had always been devoted to her. It seems he started for Japan directly he heard she was going to marry you, started back the moment he heard she wasn't. Hamil. Nothing like promptness in these matters. Col. D. \^Loukmg roundJ\ Why, you have got an evening paper — there's a paragraph — the announce- ment Hamil. [Makes a quick involuntary movement forward, then back.] Plenty of time — I'll look at it presently. Col. D. I nuist be going. [Gets up.] Only looked in to make sure you were here. Hamil. [Hesitatingly.] Have you seen or heard anything of — of — Juliet } CoL. D. Only what Callender told me. Hamil Callender.'' Col. D. It seems he went round the next morning. He admired her and wanted to say something kind, I believe. He's a soft-hearted old man — she had vanished — completely. The school is sold — a man called Johnson runs it now. Hamil. I knew that. CoL. D. [Half afraid, ufid with a touch of tenderness .] She was a wonderful creature, 1 shall never forget her [Stops abruptly.] HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 73 Hamil. I wish you'd come up the Nile with me. Col D. Wish I could, my dear fellow, but there's no chance of it. Perhaps I'll meet y^ou on the way back in April — I must be off. Shall we dine together to-morrow ? Hamil Should like it Col. D. Good. United Service at eight. Hamil. [Fidgc/ing with a cigarcUe, and trying not to look enger.^ Do you know when the marriage is to he? CoL. D. In a fortnight. Hamil. Ah I I shan't be here. CoL. D. Off so soon. Hamil. [AW*.] I can't stand this climate, and a wandering life suits me. Col. D. Well — to-morrow. [Exit. [Hamilton goes with him, returns in a moment, shuts the door, seizes the paper, searches for pai-agraph. Enter Becker. Hamil [Sits down at writing-table.^ Oh, did I ring, I did so inadvertently, but since you are here you may as well know — that I am going away even sooner than I had intended — the end of next week at latest. Becker. Yes, sir. That lady I told you about has called again, sir. Hamil. Tell her the house is sold — I am sorry — if she wanted it. 74 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE Enter very softlij, behind Becker^ Madame Bunsen. Hamilton's hack is turned. He bends over his letters, SfC. Becker. [Embarrassed, but making the best of itJ\ Mrs. Enfield would like to see you, sir. [Madame Bunsen signs to Becker to go. Hamil. I can't see her, Becker — or any one. Tell her I am sorry the house is sold. \But Becker has gone, the door is shut. Madame Bunsen is standing a few feet inside the door. [Pause. Madame B. Maur — ice. [Hamilton gives a start, looks round and rises quickly. Hamil. You ! Madame B. Yes, I. Hamil. How did you get here ? Madame B, I called myself Mrs. Enfield and followed the servant in. I had to see you. I 7uusi speak to you. [While she speaks, he retreats a little to the other side of the f replace and stands where Colonel Dempster had sat. Hamil. I have no wish to see you — or to speak to you. Madame B. [Entreating, btd firm.'] But I must — I must speak Hamil. You will be good enough to go. [Puts out his hand to ring the hell, which is on the left.] [As he does so, she springs forward. HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 75 Madame B. No I Not yet ! [He, as if to escape her touch, retreats a little to the right with a shrijiking movement. There is fair play for every one — even for me^ and you must let me speak. You won't let me write to you. I went to the lawyers, the letters are there unopened. Hamil. There is nothing to write about. It is no good trying to varnish over the facts. You have destroyed my chances of happiness twice over, there is nothing to be said — about anything. Madame B. If I have destroyed it three times, it is no reason for my being treated with injustice. I want you to listen — are you afraid .'' Hamil. Afraid? Madame B. [Scornfully.'] Yes, afraid — you must be — if you will neither open my letters nor hear what I have to say. Hamil. If you have anything to say, put it into three words — and then be good enough to go. Madame B. You say I destroyed your happiness twice Hamil. We needn't go into the first occasion ; on the second you destroyed all that, after years of isolation and bitterness, seemed to be in sight. Madame B. [Amazed.] You think I went to her on purpose ? Hamil. You went — [with a shrug\ — and the result you know, of course, Madame B. [Breathlessly.'] I went, but — Maurice — 76 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE I had no idea — I did not dream — of — what was going on. I did not even know you were in London — or in England — I did not know where you were Hamil. You could easily have discovered — this is nonsense. Madame B. [Scornfully.^ You are insulting — as one would expect a man to be who will neither hear one — nor read one's letters. Listen ! I never came across your name. I know now that it was piinted often, in connection with political things, but I never read political things. I knew nothing — nothing — about you. Two years ago, when I came back to England, I tried to find out where you were. I went to Worcester — and stayed at the little inn near your sister's house. Hamil, The Forester — yes. Madame B. I heard that you were in South America — I thought London was safe to me — that probably you were never coming back. I started the riding-school — it was the only thing I could do, and called myself " Madame Bunsen." I knew no one — made no acquaintance — 1 spoke with the pupils, but that was all. I liked that fair girl — something drew me to her — I think she liked me — because I took pains with her riding, perhaps. One day she brought me some flowers from her garden — her mother sent them. Hamil. [Cynically.^ Her mother ! — I remember. Madame B. Her father came sometimes to look on HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 77 at her. And Mr. Armitage with his sister — they were all friends together Hamil. This has nothing to do with it. Why did you discover yourself to Miss Callender.^ I should have had to tell her — but Madame B. [Not allowing him to finish.^ I went about a mare — that one of the pupils wanted to sell — a girl who was going away — she had telegraphed. Miss Callender told me she had given up the riding- lessons because she was going to be married. I congratulated her, thinking that it was Mr. Armi- tage. She said, " No, it was Mr. Maurice Hamilton." I had not heard the name spoken except by my own lips for years — it went to my heart like a sword. It forced a cry from me — I betrayed myself. And then you entered — I remember nothing more. Oh ! [With a passionate shudder of pain.^ Hamil. Thank you for explaining it — I am glad to know. [Goes towards the hell.] Madame H. Stop, Maurice — once more. We shall never meet again, I will take care of that ; there is no occasion to be brutal. Hamil. I have no wish to be brutal. Madame B. I want you to know that I wouldn't have done it had I known, I would rather have died. I have nearly died since, I think, with the misery, the madness, the knowledge that I had again desti'oyed your life. I must have been sent into the world to do it — twice over — and each time not knowing it. 78 HAMILTON S SECOND MARRIAGE Hamil. [Bitter It/.] You must have known the first time pretty well. Madame B. [I»ipetuousli/.'\ Ohj that's because you don't understand — men cry out when women do this or that, but they never see how they have helped Hamil. Helped ! [Sound of impatience.^ What you did needed little understanding to make it plain. Madame B. [Bitterly.] And even that you hadn't — you were always dense — you are now — you never had much passion in you — you never set your love for me above all else in life — or things would not have happened as they did. Hamil. This is rather a strange charge and the last I should have thought you could bring against me — remembering how I was carried away by my love for you Madame B. And yet you couldn't make it strong enough to hold me. When you married me, I was nineteen — I had known you one month — not a month. How was I to know your ways — or the manner in which you expressed yourself. My father was my mother's lover till the hour he died — he lived at her feet — she had lovers always, all her life — -I grew up among them, and to be a woman and not loved — not loved enough — seemed terrible ! Hamil. Not loved enough ! [Amazed.] Why, from the moment I saw you first — I adored you. Madame B. For a month, the month before we were married, you lived for me ; you brought me HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 79 flowers and jewels and sweets, and the first days of marriage you loved me — you loved me. [Passionate li/.^ 1 felt it. But before we were at the end of the voyage you had changed a little. Hamil. I had not changed — I was going out to my post — there were things I had to think of — I had my work, you were too young to be interested in it. Madame B. I know, but I didn't want you to think of anything but me, I wanted you to be my lover always. I will tell you something — I did not love you very much when you married me — I'd known you but a little while — but it was natural to be married, and I was flattered and pleased. Three months afterwards I could have died for love of you. There came suspicion and jealousy — my father's Italian blood, perhaps, that rose and mastered me Hamil. Suspicious and jealous of we ? Madame B. Yes. Jealous of everything that took you from me — suspicious of your absences. You expected me to take your love for granted, it maddened me that you could bear me out of your sight — that you sent me away from you. Hamil. You mean that I sent you up to Simla ? It was impossible to keep you down in the heat. Madame B. But I would have borne the heat — I wanted you only to think of 7ne — of having me with you — with you though it killed me — that is what a woman likes. And when you came you were not impatient enough — not jealous of all the men who 80 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE hung about me — and I wanted you to be. Out of your sight no one had a word or look from me. But when you came I was desperate and wanted to make you see that you must love me — guard me — think of me — but you didn't care, you didn't care enough. Hamil. I never dreamt of all this. Why didn't you tell Mrs. Sinclair.'' — she would have told you Madame B. I was too proud. I was so young and undisciplined, and it's her heart that governs such a girl as I was. Why didn't you know — then you would have held me .'' Why did you trust me so .'' Hamil. Is a man not to trust the woman who is his wife .'' Madame B. Not a girl of my temperament. You took an exotic and sent it to a place where all the sights and sounds nourished it. And you were so calm — oh ! that calmness drove me mad — so certain you were safe. It didn't occur to you to assure yourself that you were, or to make me swear every day that I was the same. When one is young as I was, nothing in the world matters but love — I thought that nothing else should exist — I thought that if I made you jealous it would rouse you — that was how it all began. Archie Farence was reckless, and he loved me, I wanted you to see that he did — but you were blind and saw nothing. He told me that you didn't care — that you couldn't — couldn't. Hamil. This is amazing — this state of mind — it never entered my head — I thought you knew that I was devoted to you — I worked chieHy to give HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 81 you the things tliat would make you happy — and I trusted you. Madame B. Yes, you trusted me — too much — nineteen — and half Southern. . . . Do you remember the last time you came to Simla r You were so pre- occupied you forgot to bring the necklace you had taken away to have mended, before the dance at the W bartons' — it was another proof of how little you thought of me while you were absent. I don't know how it came about — I swear I don't, Maurice. It seemed as if taunting fiends gathered about me that night — and you were so cold and preoccupied, you sat at your table writing, sheet after sheet — I longed to tear them into strips Hamil. There had been two cases of cholera, and I was anxious about you — didn't want you to know how anxious Madame B. [Withaci-y.] Oh ! If I had guessed — how could I } But you said Hamil. Well.? Madame B. You said you would come on to the Whartons' and you didn't. Farence was there adoring me. There was one moment in the garden, after a dance, when he stooped and kissed the ground I had stood on. [Turns a?vai/.] The end of it was that I went off with him. It was half done from lonffinff to make you jealous, to make you suffer. Oh ! If I could make you feel for a single minute the storm that raged in my heart. The man who was with me was intoxicated with passion, was jealous if he F 82 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE suspected I was thinking of you. He told me he would strangle me if I even looked at another man — fhat seemed to me to be the real thing — but I only took it from him because yoti had not given it me. Hamil, And you mean that you did not even leave me for a man you loved better .'' Madame B. As God lives, no, Maurice ; I left you on an impulse, an hour's desperate reign of one passion in a hurricane of many passions, and before the day came when as a matter of honour he married me, I was the most miserable woman in the world. Hamil. He loved you after your own fashion at any rate. Madame B. No, not even that. There came an awful awakening, it made me shudder — it made me loathe him — long before he left me. FIamil. He left you ! Madame B. I drove him away — I shrank from him — and oh, the peace of the day he went — and I was thankful for the beggary that came Hamil. Beggary ? That too ! Madame B. Yes. And pain and misery of every sort. But not vice, Maurice, I kept clear of that. I have loved no man but you, and sinned only with that other. As God in Heaven lives I swear that to you. Hamil. Why didn't you take the money I tried to settle on you at the time of the divorce ? Madame B. It would have been the last depth of all. HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE 83 Hamil. Did Farence do nothing for you ? Madame B. [With a shudder.'] I sent it back — I was only an incident — that was part of my degrada- tion. His friends forgave him — men are often for- given — women never Hamil, It must be so. It may be cruel, but it has to be. We jjut them so high — that when a woman sins it is the betrayal of a Christ — and even the man who is the Judas can't forgive her. Madame B. I know — I know, Hamil. Where were you when Farence died ? Madame B. In Australia, I never saw him again. He died in England. Hamil, And what did you do all those years ,'' Madame B. I nearly starved at first, I was ill — broken — [shuddering] — and in the Melbourne hospital for months. There was a horse-dealer's wife in the bed next to mine. When I was better, she made her husband hire me to ride the horses he wanted to sell. It was the only thing I could do and I liked it. The quick movement — the long gallops into the bush — the mystery ^I was to them, for they knew nothing. That was how the years went by. At last I could bear it no longer — I had saved some money, it brought me to England. I crept to the inn at Worcester and asked for you, as I told you. My mother had died — refusing to forgive me — but she left me what she had — little enough — I saw an advertisement of a riding-school and bought it, and suddenly prosperity came. 84 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE Hamil. [Gently.] I'm glad to have heard this — and I am sorry for all you have suffered. [Takes a step as if going forward to the bell.] I wish we had both been different. Madame B. [Despairingly, going between him and the bell.] Once more — not yet. Oh ! Maurice, these minutes are the last we shall ever have together. Hamil. Why did you come to-day, and why have you been trying to see me all these months ? Madame B. I couldn't bear it any longer — I felt I must see you — ^just once more. I knew all that you had thought me — I wanted to make it plain — to show you how it had been, to — to make you hate me less Hamil. I don't hate you — you poor child. . . . The crooked deed always sows pain and misery. You have reaped it and I have not escaped. Prob- ably you thought as / did that peace had come, till the day we met — in that room that looked over the garden. Madame B. I would have given worlds not to have gone. I should have died if you had married her, but I wouldn't have prevented it Hamil. You died, if I had married her / Madame B. Yes — died — died I think. For all these years, even in the first mad one in which I left you, I've loved you — that has been my punishment, my harvest — to see your figure clear and distinct in the distance before me, and to know I should never reach it, to know that some day you would give all HAMILTON S SECOND MARRIAGE 85 that I had left — to another woman. I knew it must confie, and I have tortured myself imagining her — fair and good, and all that I was not — I have seen your face turned towards her and heard your whispers without being able to catch the words, and I've killed her in my thoughts — and put my face against yours and mi/ arms where hers had been, and love for me — not for her — but for me — into your heart again. A maddening dream of joy — I have clenched my hands and locked my teeth to keep the cry of misery from my lips when it was over. \Change of rna/mer.] I didn't mean to betray all this but I am glad I have said it — it has come. You shall never see me again — or hear — or know, [Takes up a wrap which she had left on a chair. ^ Hamil. [ fVho is carried away by her passion^ Juliet ! Is all that you have said the truth .'' \He goes towards her as she turns to go. Madame B. I've never lied you to Maurice; even I have not done that. Hamil. You mean that you have loved tne all these years ? Madame B. [In a low, tragic voice.] All these years and every day of them. You cannot say that you have loved me — as I would you if you had left me. You went to the fair girl — and loved her Hamil. Yes — I loved her. Madame B. I know — I saw her and felt it. Hamil. She was the expression to me of all that 86 HAMILTON'S SECOND MARRIAGE once I had imagined you would be when you were a little older. Madame B. No — no Hamil. And from deep down in my heart, buried in bitterness and misery, often your face — as I saw it first — looked up at me. Madame B. Oh — no — no. Hamil. She's going to marry another man. Madame B. And you — are miserable. Hamil. No, I'm not miserable — it is over — it seems to have vanished — and all the other memories have come rushing back. — Juliet ! My poor whirl- wind — my little lover — I used to call you that in the first month — I wish things had been different — with all my heart I wish it. Madame B. I would give my life — my every hope of heaven to have them so — or if you had left me, for then I would have forgiven you, and loved you more — because of the days I didn't dare remember. Ah ! let me go Hamil. No — no- Madame B. I can't bear it any longer. Hamil. [Springing Jbrward.^ You shall never go if I can help it. I am longing to take you back. Madame B. [Bewildered.] You forgive me ? Hamil. Forgive you .'' I t's^owr forgiveness I want, for my blindness, my seeming coldness — give it me — give it me — shall we put it all behind us, and start out across a new world .'' How could you think I didn't love you enough — you were so beautiful. HAMILTON S SECOND MARRIAGE 87 Could you bear with me again ? Shall we have another marriage-day, and begin life once more together ? Madame B. Oh ! no, no — I could bear the misery, the shame even — but such joy as that would kill me Hamil. You shall live for it in my arms. [Puts them round her.] There is a harvest from suffering too — a harvest of peace. Madame B. [Looking up at hi7n dazed.] For the dead — only for the dead Hamil. For the living sometimes. Juliet — Juliet ! Curtain. THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS DRAMATIS PERSONS Thomas Lobb, a hoy {afterwards Robert VaUide) Robert Vallide (formerly Thomas Lobb) RoBEET Vallide, Senr. , his uncle Eael of Barnstaple, past middle age Geoff, Lord Stratton [in the Guards), his son Sir James Caxton Colonel Endsleigh, Indian Staff Corps Sib George Fison, a /awiows doctor Lady Sarah Stratton, Lord Bamstajileh sister Lady Ida, his daughter Lady Caxton (Julia), his niece The Hon. Mrs. Murison, another niece May Murison, her daughter {a little girl of six at first, not seen then) Servants, &c. ACT I., ENGLAND. TIME : Seventeen years ago. SCENE : Draiving-room in Harford Terrace, Regent's Park. ACT J I., ITALY. TIME: Present day. Afternoon. iiCENE: (Interior) Sitting-room in I^ord Barnsta/de's Villa at Alassio on the Italian Riviera. ACT III., ITALY. TIME : Ten days later. Late afternoon. SCENE : (Exterior) Garden of the Villa. ACT IV., ENGLAND. TIME : 'ITiree weeks later. SCENE : (Interior) A sitting-room on Campden Bill, W. ACT I Time — Seventeen years ago, about noon, on a spring day. Scene. — Interior. Mrs. Muuison's house in Harford Terrace, Regent's Park. Dratinng-room well furnished, refined. Windows at hack {not down to the ground) showing tops of trees, so as to s^uggest that the room is on the first floor. Fireplace on r. ; door on l. When Curtain draws up Lady Sarah is discovered 071 chair R. near the fre. She is middle-aged, handsome and distinguished-looking, rather man- nered. Near centre of stage, Mrs. Murison, about twenty-six, a pretty, graceful woman, with a sweet hut rather stifle manner, is talking with Sir George Fison, a celebrated doctor : they are both standing. Mrs. M. I can never thank you enough, Sir George. Sir G. My dear lady, I ain delighted to think the results have not disappointed us — I know what the child is to you Mrs. M. Just my life Lady S. [Sharply.] More than either of the other 93 94. THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS two children; and then, you know, Doctor — I keep forgetting, I mean Sir George — I did congratulate you ? Sir G. You did, thank you very much Lady S. And then it's her first child. Sir G. I know. And the father away, fighting for his country. [To Mrs. M.] I hope you've good news ? Mrs. M. None at all for the last few days ; but he was safe then. Sir G. Letters, of course, are difficult — though the War Ofiice does all it can. Mrs. M. We owed so much to Gordon. And he wants to help carry out his work in Egypt. Sir G. Well, we are doing great things there. . . . You must hope for the best. , . . Keep the child out of doors as much as possible. Mrs. M. I told nurse to wrap her up well. Sir G. Quite right. You are fortunate in having this park at your front door. Mrs. M. I stand at the window and watch them half a mile away sometimes. Sir G. Ah ! [Smilirtg.] It's lucky for children that they have mothers. [While Ihey are speaking Thomas enters with a scuttlefiil of coals, which he puts down hy the ^replace. He is about ten, dressed in tidy hid poor clothes, wears a working aproti, and has a 7-e/ined, delicate little face. Sir George looks at him as he passes. Thomas touches his forelock. Exit. THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS 95 Sir G. [Abojit to go.] Nice face that boy has. He does not look very strong though. [Shafces hands.] Glad to have seen you again, Lady Sarah. I hope Lady Barnstaple is better .'' Lady S. I've not seen her lately ; I've been stay- ing at Hampton Court with my sister. Sir G. Oh yes — Lady Caroline Lismore. [To Mrs. M.] Your mother. I remember that she went there after her husband died. I hope she is not quite alone ? Lady S. Oh no ; she has a niece, poor Claude's child — Julia — who is eighteen now. Perhaps vou don't remember her.'' Sir G. Dear me, yes, I do. Her parents died in India. . . . Well, good-bye. [Turns back.] By the way, you didn't tell me how Lady Barnstaple was ? Lady S. Not at all well. My brother has bought a villa at Alassio, on the Italian Riviera, for her. SirG. Humph I I'm sorry . . . The children are well, I hope — Geoffrey and Ida, isn't it. . . . Lord Barn- staple is making a great name in the political world. [To Mrs. M.] Send for me if anything goes wrong. Mrs. M, I will — and thank you — thank you for all your kindness. Sir G. Not at all. [Exit Sir George. Mrs. M. rings ike bell. Lady S. Well, Evelyn, that anxiety is over. Mrs. M. I hope so. [Rings again.] Thomas must be told not to come in when there are visitors here. Enter Servant, 96 THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS [To Skrvant.] Sent! Thomas to me — as soon as he has filled the scuttles, [Exit Servant. Mrs. M. [To Lady S.] He is the son of those poor people who had charge of the empty house next door ; do you remember ? Lady S. Oh yes, you made Turner cut off a great many slices of roast mutton for them when 1 was here six months ago, and had them sent, too, before you ate your own. Mrs. M. Poor things, they were hungry — and needed agreat many. Father and mother, and Thomas and Polly, and the poor skinny baby that died. Lady S. A good thing it did, my dear, if it was skinny — it wouldn't always have had you to send it roast mutton. [Evidently anxums to dismiss the subject.^ They were country people, you said Mrs. M. The father was a Cornish man. He had been a carpenter, I think. I saw him one night warming his thin hands by the fire, and the next day when I went to see him he was dead — I put the flowers I had taken at his feet. Lady S. [Indifferently.^ Poor man ! Better off, no doubt. And has the widow found another empty house to take care off.'' Mrs. M. No, she does a little chai'ing, and we bought her a mangle ; Polly goes to a board school, and Thomas carries out newspapers for the stationer round the corner, but as that's over at eight in the morning, and I wanted a boy to clean knives and boots, and caiTy up coals THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS 97 Lady S. You sent for Thomas. Mrs, M, He is such a good boy and he adores May Lady S. [Impatient It/. ^ Of course he does . . . but want to speak to you about your mother. I have hurried up to town because I have no patience with her— I never had much without her, perhaps you will say. Mrs. M. Dear Aunt Sarah, I wouldn't be so rude ; besides I love your impatience. Enter Thomas. He touches his forelock and stands by the door. Lady S. [Evidently angry at the interruption.^ Oh Mrs. M. Come in, Thomas. . . . What is that bulging in your pocket — why it moves ! Thomas. [Pleased and important.^ It's some white mice, M'm, for Miss May. Her brown one died just before she was took ill. ... I got these a week ago and thought perhaps you'd let me give 'em to her to-day. Mrs. M. Are they loose in your pocket ? Thomas. Tied up in a handkerchief But I've mended the catch of the cage. I am glad to hear she's to go out, M'm. Mrs. M. How did you know ? Thomas. I went up and asked nurse, directly after the doctor'd gone down. I thought he'd gone, M'm, or I wouldn't have come in with the coals just now. Mrs. M. Oh, that was it — I wondered. Why 98 THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS didn't you give Miss May the mice when you went up ? Thomas. Didn't like to do that, M'm, tilll'd asked you if you didn't mind Mrs. M. Oh — how nice of you. Thomas. Thank you, M'm. It's a good thing — [with a different sound in his toice^ — she's well, isn't it, M'm.'' [Mrs. Murison nods.^ We was scared that night, all of us. Mrs. M. We were indeed, Thomas. . . . Well, go up and give her the mice. Thomas. \JVith a little triumphant smile.^ They're as white as milk. [Touches his forelock to Lady S. and Mrs. M. [Exit. Lady S. Nice boy ; knows his place, and a little more human than most children of that class. Mrs. M. Human .-^ Oh, Thomas is human enough. I shall never forget the night we thought May was going to die. I believe he sat on the steps all through it. The servants found him outside the area door at daylight half dead. They dragged him in, and when they told him that the crisis was over and she might live, he put his head down on the kitchen table and sobbed — the relief was too much. I shall always remember him when I think of that night. . . . [Change of manner.] Well, what has been hap- pening at Hampton Court .'' You've been staying with mother, I hear. Lady S. My dear Evelyn, your mother is driving THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS 99 me out of my mind. She is my sister, so I have a right to say what I think of her, even to you. Mrs. M. [Aynused.] YeSj of course you have, Aunt Sarah — go on. Lady S. She is a most worldly woman. Mrs. M. But why suddenly ? Lady S. Young Endsleigh has gone to India, as you probably know, without speaking to Julia Mrs. M. I am certain they care for each other. Lady S. Then he's an idiot not to have told her so. And Julia — a girl in love is always like an ostrich with its head in the sand — has been breaking her heart and thinks nobody knows it. Mrs, M. Mother couldn't help his not speaking. Lady S. I believe she prevented him — any one could see that he was fond of Julia — at any rate he has gone, as she intended him to go, without declar- ing himself. And last night the poor child accepted Sir James Caxton, that stupid man who has just got in for Fieldborough, Mrs, M. Oh no. Aunt Sarah — not Sir James.'' He's the dullest man in the world. Lady S, He's an owl, but he's very rich and has no near relations. Mrs, M, He must be forty. Lady S. I daresay. And depend upon it he'll live to be eighty. Mrs. M. How did it happen ? Lady S. Well, it has been quite evident that something was in the man's mind, for he went down 100 THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS five times in a fortnight, mooned about, and said nothing, stared at Julia, and went away as inarticu- late as he came. It's a miracle to me how such an idea as marriage got into his head. Mrs. M. I can't think why he was returned for Fieldborough. Lady S. Bribery of course. Mrs. M. Julia might marry any one, and at eighteen there's no hurry. Lady S. Sir James is veiy rich and that appeals to your mother. Mrs. M. [Thoughtfully.'] And it's an excellent family of course. . . . Do you think he's in love .'' Lady S. My dear, an owl doesn't fall in love. He wants to arrange himself in life, and is doing the best he can — from an owl's point of view. She'll run away in a year if Frank Endsleigh comes back, and then there'll be a pretty scandal. Mrs. M. But why did she accept him .'' Lady S Your mother has been telling her that if anything happened to her, she would have to go out as a governess, or some nonsense, for of course the dear Queen only gave those rooms at Hampton Court to your father's widow. Mrs. M. I know. Lady S. So she persuaded Julia that it was her duty to accept Sir James, and Julia is so miserable that she would marry anybody, or throw herself down a well, or do anything else she was told. I was ex- tremely angry and came away the first thing this THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS 101 morning. At the station I telegraphed to Sir James to come and see me here at twelve o'clock. Mrs. M. Here ? Aunt Sarah ! What are you going to do .'' Lady S. I shall not mince matters : but it's twelve o'clock now ; so perhaps he won't come — he is prob- ably afraid, for my manner was not pleasant last night — I made it unpleasant. Mrs. M. That clock is five minutes fast. I can't think why mother hasn't written to me. Lady S. She's coming up this afternoon, with Julia — coming here, to surprise you ; that's why I did a really desperate thing, and wired to the man. Mrs. M. I am so amazed at your courage. Lady S. I'm amazed, my dear Evelyn, that you don't appear to be shocked at your mother's conduct. Mrs. M. Poor mother, the money has dazzled her. Lady S. And she has forgotten her own youth — it's extraordinary to me that women do. I'm fifty, but 1 know what it feels like to be in love as well as if I were twenty. Mrs. M. Many girls marry for money and are content. Think of Mary Wallingford, and that vulgar millionaire last year, do you remember ? Lady S. Of course I do — Mr. Ruddock — the ready-made clothing man — but he was clever at any rate. Sir James is so dull. Mrs. M. [With a shudder.] Yes ; but it was worse than this — When May grows up, if she were to marry a man like Mr. Ruddock 102 THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS Enter Thomas with a telegram on a tray ; he stands unnoticed for a minute and listens with wide open eyes at the mention of May's name. Lady S. Or like Sir James ? Mrs. M. I would rather see her married to a dull man like Sir James than to some new-made million- aire who had been a tinker or a tailor, perhaps ; and who, at the back of one's head, one knew ought to be sitting with the servants. Thomas [Touching his Jhrelock.] Telegram, M'm. Mrs. M. Oh, I didn't see you, Thomas, you should speak. Wait — perhaps there's an answer. [Takes up two telegrams from the tray.^ One for you. Aunt Sarah. [Hands it io Lady S.] [To Thomas.] Why didp't Turner bring them in ? Thomas, I told her I would, M'm, 'cause mother's here and wants to know if you can see her for a minute. Lady S. [Reading her telegram.] " With you at 12.15." He's coming : Mrs. M. [Reading her telegram.] Mother has tele- graphed that she and Julia will be here at four. [To Thomas.] No answer. ... I can't see your mother this morning. [Thomas touches his Jhrelock and is about to go when she says : Wait a minute. Ask her to go into the dining-room and wait. [Thomas touches his forelock. Exit, Lady S. [With a g7'unt.] H'm ; the man's coming. THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS 103 Mrs. M. [Amused.] You shall have that interview- alone. Lady S. Yes, I had better see him alone. I shall speak with the greatest plainness — but come back after a few minutes. Mrs. M. What do you think Julia really feels about it .'' Lady S. [After a pause.] I don't want to betray the child's confidence, but she is crushed and raisei*- able and doesn't care what becomes of her. I went to her room last night ; she threw herself into my arms. She is broken-hearted about the Endsleigh boy. The young idiot is too poor to marry yet. Mrs. M. YeSj of course. Lady S. But he's not too poor to be engaged, and they are both so young they could wait. Enter Servant, announcing Sir James Caxton. Enter Sir James, almost 7niddle-aged, a dull, heavy-looking man. Mrs. M. How do you do. Sir James.'' Sir J. How do you do } How do again, Lady Sarah } [Nodding to her,] [To Mrs. Murison.J Heard the news, I suppose .'' Mrs. M. Yes — I was very much surprised Sir J. Thought you would be . . . How's the child ? Been ill, hasn't she i Mrs. M. She is better, thank you. Sir J. That's right — I suppose you know that your 104 THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS mother and Julia — your cousin, isn't she, yes, of course — are coming up this afternoon ? Mrs. M. I have just heard from them. Sir J, That's all right then — Lady Sarah, you were good enough to telegraph for me, so I'm here. Lady S. I want to talk to you. Mrs. M. And there is some one waiting to see me in the drawing-room. Sir J. You haven't congratulated me yet — I sup- pose you forgot — it doesn't matter; it's only a form. Mrs. M. [Going towards the door.] Yes, it's only form. Sir J. Allow me. [Opens door.] [Exit Mrs. Murison. Sir J. [Going aivkwardly towards Lady Sarah.] Well, what's the telegram about ? Lady S. Sit down, Sir James, I want to speak to you. I mean to speak plainly. Sir J. Quite right. We are both plain people. Lady S. I took my courage into my two hands, and telegraphed. Sir J. I thought you probably took a pencil. Lady S. What do you mean .'' Sir J. [Sheepishly.] Only a little joke. Courage is an excellent thing, but no good by itself for writ- ing a telegram. [She makes an impalienl gesture.] Well, what is it .'' Lady S. Why did you propose to my niece, Julia } Sir J. Because I want to marry her — excellent reason THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS 105 Lady S. She's not in love with you — not a bit — you must know that. Sir J. Sorry for it. I don't believe in young women being in love before they're married — time enough afterwards. Lady S. My sister made her accept you because you have twenty thousand a year. I speak plainly, for there is no one else to do it. You are a good and worthy man, but you were not made to marry a beautiful girl like Julia. Sir J. Perhaps not, but 1 don't see that anything is gained by saying it now. Lady S. Sir James, that girl is breaking her heart for a boy who went to India the other day, without speaking, because my sister, who is a very worldly woman, prevented him. Sir J. I'm sorry; I'll take her about and she'll forget him. Lady S. Don't marry her — the engagement is not announced yet, no one knows about it except our- selves — back out of it — be generous, be kind. Julia dared not refuse you, she is miserable at the thought of man^'ing you. Sir J. Well, but she needn't be — I'll do what I can Lady S. Don't marry her. Give her up. Don't make a tragedy of that young thing's life. Sir J. I won't if I can help it, but I mean to marry her. The boy who went to India was a fool ; — didn't know how to use his chance ; she'll forget 106 THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS him soon ; [gets up to go] I will do my best to please her. Lady S. I thought you would be generous — I thought you would see the whole thing. Sir J, I'm going to be generous. I won't tell any one of this conversation. La dy S. But why do you want to marry her after what I have told you ? Sir J. I'm very dull. Lady S. [Almost losing her temper J\ You are dread- fully dull. Sir J. That's why I want to marry. I sha'n't say you told me about the boy. . . . But I shall keep my eyes open — and I can take care of my own. Lady S. [Indigncmt, with a note of feeling in her voicc.'\ I am a foolish old woman, I've done more haiTn than good. I thought perhaps you would understand. Sir J. I quite understand, but you see the woman who doesn't get the man she wants is unlucky and can't help it — has to put up with it ; but the man who doesn't get the woman he wants is an ass. I always think you should take what you want if you can get it — I want her. Lady S. I feel as if I'd made a fool of myself — and done no good. Sir J. I like a Avoman who makes a fool of herself. She's generally a nice woman, there's where you get the pull of us. I rather like fools, though they bore me if they're men. Good-bye. THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS 107 Lady S. [Looking at him wonderingly.'\ I believe you'll be kind Sir J. I'm not up to much, but I'll try. Enter Mrs. Murison. Mrs. M. Are you going, Sir James .^ Sir J. Just going. Hope to come this afternoon, if you will allow me — meet Lady Caroline and Julia. Mrs. M. You are coming to meet them } [Rings. Sir J. Yes, au revoir. [Exit Sir James. Mrs. M. What happened, Aunt Sarah } Lady S. [Snappishly. 1^ Nothing. The man's stupid. [Evidently reluctant to acknowledge her defeat.] I wish I hadn't sent for him. Mrs. M. What did he say } Lady S. I can't tell you now, I am too angry. Did you see Thomas's mother .'' Mrs. M. Mrs. Lobb— oh yes — -Thomas is going to Canada Lady S. [Evidently 7iot in the least interested.] Good thing for him, perhaps. Mrs. M. Yes, I suppose it is. Mrs. Lobb comes from Cornwall, and when she was a girl her brother went to Canada ; but he has always been poor till lately because he was so set on education, she says. Lady S. Wasted his time, of course, on learning things of no use to him instead of doing his work — serve him right. Mrs. M. [Aynused.] He is beginning to do better and has sent for Thomas. The Captain of the 108 THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS trading ship who promised to take him back only found Mrs. Lobb this morning — and his ship sails to-morrow. Thomas goes with him at four o'clock from Euston to-day. Lady S. What does the uncle do besides being set on education ? Mrs. M. Oh — something with railways. Poor woman, she was miserable at losing her boy. . . . But I want to talk about Julia and Sir James. Lady S. I would rather not own it, but that man thoroughly worsted me, and Mrs. M. [Evidently listening for some movement out- side the house.^ Wait till the children have gone — they are just ready — we shall hear them go by. [Goes to the window and opens ?/.] The air is lovely, so soft — and the sunshine will do May a deal of good. [Thomas enters while she is speaking. He has taken off his apron, evidently tvashed his face and brushed his hair. Stands, cap in hand. Thomas, [Touching his forelock.] Please, M'm, I've come to say good-bye. Mrs. M. Yes, I know — come in. [He is standing by the door.] Your mother has told me all about it. Thomas. [Going a few steps into the roo7n.] She's very keen on my going, M'm, but I don't like leaving her and Polly. Don't know how they'll manage. Mrs. M. Oh, but it's a splendid chance for you. Thomas. That's what she says, but it's come so sudden-like. I believe chances always does, and I THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS 109 don't suppose I should come to much carrying out the papers Mrs. M. [JVitk an encouraging smile. ^ Or blacking our shoes. Thomas. I like doing anything for you, M'm. [Turns his head towards the window, and his face lights up.] I thought I heard them Miss May and the others are just going. [Sounds outside. May. [Only her voice — a child's voice — is heard, she is not seen.] Mother dear — Mother dear. Mrs. M. [Going towards the ivindow.] You must say good-bye to her. Thomas. I did, M'm. I thought you wouldn't mind. Lady S. [Who has follorved Mrs. Murison to the window.] She looks much better. Mrs. M. [To the children, who are presumably beneath the window.] Good-bye, dears. Don't let her get too tired, Nurse. I'm saying good-bye to Thomas, May darling. May. [Her voice is heard.] Tell him to come back again. Mrs. M. [I'tirning to Thomas.] She says you are to come back again, Thomas. Thomas. [Going towards window, but standing shyly a step away from it.] I'll come back, Miss May, I'll be sure to come back. May. When will you come ? Mrs. M. [Repeating.] When will you come.'' she says. 110 THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS Thomas. [To May.] I don't know, but I'll be sure to come, Miss May ; don't you fear. Mrs, M. Good bye, darlings. [The children evidently go on, Mrs. M. kisses her hand to them, closes the window, and comes back into the room. Mrs. M. [To Thomas.] Have you seen your uncle's friend who is to take you to Canada t Thomas. No, M'm, but mother has. She says he is a very nice gentleman. Mrs. M. The voyage will do you good. Thomas. That's what he said. Mother told him I was delicate, and he said the sea might set me up and start me growing. But I don't like leaving her and Polly — [struggling to keep back eniotio?i] — and I don't like leaving you and Miss May ... I couldn't 'a' gone if she hadn't been better. Mrs. M. Thank God, she's well. Thomas. [Goi7ig, then hesitating and speaking shyly.'\ Please, M'm, I want to thank you for all your kind- ness to us ... I don't know where we'd 'a' been without you. Father said you were our best friend — it's one of the last things he did say. Mrs. M. Thank you for telling me — I know you'll be a good boy, Thomas. Thomas. I'll try. Good-bye, M'm. Mrs. M. [As Thomas goes toivards doorJ\ Oh, but you must shake hands with me. [Quickly taking some- thing front her purse^ There is a sovereign for your little pocket. THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS 111 Thomas. [Half reluctant.] Thank you, M'm, but I didn't want that to remember you by. [Raises his head as he takes her hand and looks at her.] I'll never forget you as long as I live. Mrs, M. I don't believe you will. Good-bye, dear Thomas, may you grow up strong and well, and be a brave man. [Stoops and kisses his cheek. [Thomas's head droops, as if to hide his tears, he touches his forelock, quite ignores Lady S. Exit without saying a word, closing door softly. Mrs. M. [Looking after him.] Ah Lady S. My dear Evelyn, how could you kiss the charwoman's son — the boy who blacks your shoes ? Mrs. M. He looked so little to be going across the world alone, I couldn't bear to see his pale face and sad eyes. And I thought of how he had sobbed the morning he heard that May was bettei" — and of his father as I saw him last, lying still, with the surprised smile on his face. Curtain. ACT II Time. — Present. Seventeen years later than la^t Act. An afternoon in April. Scene. — Sittins-room in Lord Barnstaple's villa at Alassio, charmingly J urnished. Wide doors at hack leading on to loggia, with marble or stone balustrade, and steps in centre leading down to orange- garden. The orange-trees should be seen, beaming fruit and blossom. At the back mountains and olive-trees ; at one side a bit of the blue Mediterranean. Seated on the right is Julia {now Lady Caxton), about thirty-six, beautiful, pleasant, but distant in mariner to any but her own people. She is reading some letters ; the post has evidently just come in. At the grand piano on the left May Murison is playing very softly. She is twenty-three, girlish, fair, charming. By the window Sir James Caxton is standing looking a good deal older than in the last Act. Far down stage Robert Vallide, Sen., stands listen- ing to the piano. He is a tall, shrewd, eager man of fifty-five, keen, business-like, and kindly. 113 H 114 THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS Vallide. [To Julia.] Do you know, Lady Caxton, I believe I have heard that tune before ? Lady C. [Amused.] May ! Mr. Vallide says he knows that tune ! May. It is a very old one— it's Sullivan's " Distant Shore." Vallide. I'd like it again. They used to play it at Montreal in old clays. It always made me feel home-sick. Sir J. [To Vallide.] Isn't it time you went to meet your nephew. Vallide. [Looking at watch.] You are right, Sir James, it is. If that train's punctual he'll be here in a quarter of an hour. Thank you, Miss Murison. [Gets up and goes towards door. Julia. Go through the garden — it's nearer. Vallide. I will. [Ej:it by garden. Looks back and says :] Here's Lord Stratton coming. [May begins to play. Voice. May ! Are you there .'' [She evidently hears but goes on playing. Lord Stratton (25), a heavy, stupid-looking young man, is seen coming up the loggia. Sir J, [To May.] Geoff's calling you. Geoff. May ! [Entering the room.'] I say, do come out May. [Stands up and nods her head at him.] I don't want to come out. Geoff. Yes, you do, I want to talk to you. THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS 115 May. [Sits donm and he^ns to play and sing again.] I don't want be talked to. Geoff. Oh, all right. [Marches off" into the garden. Evidently cross, Julia. [Armised.] I must say you are a very cool young lady. May. Dear Julia, why am I cool ? Julia. Are you not engaged to GeofF .'' May. No, not yet, though in a sort of way I have given in this morning — at least I said I'd try and marry him. Mother wants it so much, and he's Uncle Edward's son. Julia. It doesn't seem to strike you that Geoff is the only son of Lord Barnstaple, and one of the best partis in London. May. Poor old Geoff ! Julia. Most girls would jump at him. May. Poor old Geoff ! Re-enter Geoff. Geoff. [To Julia.] I say, Julia, make her come for a walk. May. I don't want to go for a walk — I want to see Mr. Robert Vallide. He'll be here directly ; his uncle has gone to the station to meet him — he's frightfully pleased at the idea of his nephew getting into Parliament, and I want to see what he is like. Geoff. The blessed carpet-bagger. May. He isn't a carpet-bagger. Geoff. Well, tub-thumper. Do come out. May. I want to stay here. 116 THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS Geoff. You're awfully disagreeable this time. . . . The Pippins want me to go and stay with them in Paris. May. [Pickifig up a letter from the piano J\ Well — you like Miss Pippin. [To Julia.] I've had a long letter from mother. She's so pleased with our new house on Campden Hill — she is getting it ready, working like a Trojan — how did Trojans work — hard, Geoff? Geoff. Why — like Trojans. [Looking round.^ I'm getting sick of this place, too much scenery about — there's no room for anything lively. May. You'd better go to Paris. Geoff. I will if you worry me so. Enter Ida, (^4) pretty and lively. May. Here's Ida. Is Aunt Sarah better .'' [Gets up a7id goes towards Ida. Ida. a little — but she's very cross. Julia. What have you been reading to her ? Ida. Jane Austen. She says all her people are tiresome, and all their aims trivial. And, she doesn't care how well they are done, she wouldn't have known thera for the world, and doesn't want to hear about them. Julia. Is she coming down to tea .'' Ida. I don't know. I told her Mr. Vallide's nephew was coming. She asked what he was like. M ay. What did you say .'' Ida. I told her that he had the New World vigour and the Old World politeness. THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS 117 May. Why — Ida, you are quite eloquent. Ida. [With jnock pathos.^ It doesn't matter, he likes some one else, as usual. He told me all about her one evening. May. About whom ? Ida. [May turns her head and listens.^ Some girl he remembers. He hasn't seen her for years, but he always wonders everywhere he goes if she will be there. May. How sweet of him. [To Geoff as they saunter towards the loggia together.^ Very well, I'll come for a little while. [Ida goes to the piano, vmkes business. [Sir James rvatches Geoff and May dis- appear. [Julia takes up a letter in her lap and says to Ida. Julia. Evelyn only just missed getting the old house in Regent's Park again. Ida. Really ! I didn't know May had this waltz. \L00ki71g at music. Sir J. What, the house where Lady Sarah abused me for proposing to you } Julia. It didn't make any difference. Sir J. No, it didn't make any difference — in one way — good thing Evelyn's not going back to it. Julia. Why .'' [Ida might play softly. Sir J. It was there that she heard that her husband was killed in Egypt. Julia. [iVoc?.v.] Seventeen years ago. How strange of you to think of that. 118 THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS Sir J. I think of a good many things. [Restlessly.] I wish this young man would arrive Ida. [At piano.] Anxious to see your successor. Cousin Jim .'' Sir J. Want to get out of poUtics — but I want to get out of everything. Julia. Oh, Jim, we all do sometimes. Life could be such a wonderful thing — only it isn't. Sir J. [Sheepishly.'] Well, I bought you that ivory carving to day, it's coming home when it's cleaned up Enter Lord Barnstaple. He is past middle age. Thorough Tory, a little stiff hut kind, as all his people are ; agreeable and pleasantly condescend- ing in man7ier. Sir J. Well, Barnstaple ? Julia. [To Sir J.] Oh! . . . [To Lord B.] Jim has bought that ivorj- for me, Uncle Edward. ' Lord B. Awfully good of him, my dear. He is always finding pretty things for you. Where is Vallide ? Julia. Gone to meet his nephew. Lord B. Ah ! [Rings. Enter Servant. [To Servant.] See that a room is ready for Mr. Robert Vallide — Mr Vallide's nephew. He will arrive almost directly. Servant. Yes, my lord. [Exit Servant. Julia. [To Lord B.] Uncle Edward, did you know that Mr. Vallide wasn't a Canadian .'' THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS 119 Lord B. Of course. He's a West of England man. Went out young to make his way, I imagine. Sir J. That's why he's so keen on education. Lord B. He did a great deal for it in Canada. Sir J. Felt that he didn't get enough of it himself, probably. Lord B. He knows a good deal. I am never very keen on the people who have made what they call their pile and hail from — anywhere. But I like Vallide. When I was doing the Colonies — he was at Ottawa then — he took me all over the Canadian Pacific, so I saw a good deal of him. I hadn't seen him since till I met him at Monte Carlo the other day — doing Europe — and it was my turn to show civilities. Ida. You knew his nephew first in Canada, didn't you, father ? Lord B. He came out after taking his degree. Julia. And then ? — the nephew, I mean .'' Lord B. Then — he turned up in London anxious to go into politics or something of that sort. Our Party had just got in, I wanted a Pxivate Secretary, and he was good enough to come to me. But we were turned out after a few months. Julia. You were all such rabid Tories, what could you expect .f" Lord B. I wish there were moi-e of us ; this country wasn't built for a democracy — or by one. And Socialism, if it comes, will pull it down and only leave chaos in its place. Young Vallide is a remarkable 120 THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS man and I shall be glad if he gets in for Field- borough. Sir J. Perhaps he'll wake them up. I never did. Lord B. They're waking up of their own accord — that's the worst of it. [Lord B. crosses over to Sir J. Ida. [Looking up from the piatio.] Geoff's American friends the Pippins are in Paris, father. Colonel Endsleigh is going out to them for a few days and may come on here. Lord B. Ah ! A good fellow, Endsleigh. Lady C. [Looks up quickly at the mention of Ends- leigh's wrtw/e. 7'o Ida.] He's coming to Alassio ? Sir J. [Siilkih/, watching his tvife.] Why should he come here ? Julia. Why shouldn't he .^ 1 knew him when I was a girl — before he went to India Sir J. Well, you don't now. Ida. He's a great friend of mine. Cousin James. Sir J. Friend of yours — is he ? Oh — if that's it ! [Pause. Lord B. Look here, Caxton, when young Vallide comes we had better get to business at once. [Saunters to Sin J. on loggia. Re-enter Geoff and May together from garden, they pass Sir J. and Lord B., 7vho make way for them to pass. Geoff is evidently put out. Geoff. [To Julia.] We are not getting on a bit. May. Not a bit. Geoff. May used to be much nicer. THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS 121 May. But I am deteriorating. I'm much nicer now than I shall be presently. Geoff. I sha'n't stand it. May. [Provokingli/ and laughing.] Don't, dear Geott", don't. [Sir J. and Lord B. get out of hearing. Ida. You are the strangest creatures. Geoff. May used to be a nice girl. May. I'm not now. Geoff. No, you're not. I've half a mind to go to Paris. May. There's a great deal going on there. Geoff. Yes, there is — and they want me. May. [Teasingly.] I am sure they do. If you took the six o'clock train from here, to-day, you would be there to-morrow morning ? Geoff. [Savagely ^ Oh ! [Goes off hurriedly through the loggia. Ida. [Who, with Julia, has been looking on at them half amused.] Really, May, you do worry him. May. I can't help it. I'm very fond of him ; he's a dear boy, but I don't want to marry him — that's the whole story — I — don't — want — to — marry — him. Ida. I wonder where he's gone.'' [Goes out to loggia and looks after him; thus Julia and May are left inrlually alone. May. I can't bear telling Ida that I don't want Geoff — because he is her brother ; but what can I do} Julia. There isn't any one else .'' May. No. But it would be dreadfully slow to 122 THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS marry a cousin — not like being married at all ; only like staying on a life-long visit to a relation. Julia. He has been fond of you so long now. May. [Nods.] Ever since that summer in Switzer- land — years ago — when I had a pig-tail — he pulled it when we quarrelled. But he killed all the wasps. Julia. It's splendid of Uncle Edward to want you to marry him. May. Oh yes, I know ; and mother does too. I rt?H trying. But the Barnstaples are poor; GeofF ought to marry money — and I want to wait for the fairy prince. Julia. The fairy prince generally comes too soon or too late. . . . Don't marry Geoff if you don't love him ! There's only one thing in a woman's life worth playing for, and, if she misses it, everything else is a makeshift. May. [Change of' ma7mer.] I wonder — did you take makeshifts .'^ Julia. I took the things I was told I couldn't do without. That's what many women do — [in a low voice, fvitk a glance towards Sir James] — but — I have played the game fairly. May. [Gravely.] Dear Julia [Ida saunters in, and, as she does so, May takes up a white parasol that has been by the piano. May. I'm going down to the Curiosity Shop — there are two old Savona pots that mother would like THOMAS AND THE FRLNCESS 123 Ida, Take GeoiF with you. May. We should only quarrel. ... It is warm enough for July. [Exit by loggia. Ida. May never seems to fall in love with any one, and evert/ one does with her. Julia. I know. Ida. I wish they did with me ; but I am the kind of girl that men call a good sort and tell things to — that's all. Julia. I saw you sitting out for hours with Mr. Robert Vallide at the Benson Greys'. Ida. I daresay, and we talked about other people — people who care to talk about themselves. JuLL\. [Suddenli/.] Perhaps he'll fall in love with May — it wouldn't please her mother. Ida. No, it wouldn't . . . Men are very strange. There was Teddy Haston — he used to ride with me every day, but he never said a word. ... I believe he's dumb. JuLL'v. I thought girls didn't want to be married nowadays. ■ Ida. I don't want to be married, but I should like to have a crowd of lovers following me — it must cheer one up so — as it is, no one has ever proposed to me at all, except Colonel Endsleigh. Julia. [Quic/cli/.] Frank Endsleigh ! Did ^e PWhen ? Ida. In January ; and even he wasn't in love — told me he never had been since he first went to India. He cared for some girl then, but she married for money 1^4 THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS Julia. Y^'rying to keep her mantier natural.^t Why didn't you accept him ? Ida. Why should I .'' A middle-aged man, not even in love with me } Julia. [^Rueftdly?^ Yes, he's middle-aged— — Re-enter Lord B., Sir James and Geoff, 7iot May. liORD B. [Ha/J' amused, half vexed.^ Look here, Geoff and May have been squabbling again — he says you were both here, so you know about it Geoff. And I'm tired of it, I shall go to Paris. Endsleigh's there, and the Pippins— Janetta Pippin is worth a dozen of May — I believe she'd Lord B. Nonsense, my boy — we don't want any Miss Janetta Pippins in our family. You have told us all a dozen times that your heart is set on marry- ing May. Geoff. It was — but it isn't now. Lord B. She was just coming round. Geoff. I don't believe she'll ever come round. Look here, let me go for a week to Paris — she told me to go, and I should like to take her at her word Lord B. Suppose she asks you to stay — what then } Geoff. Why — Oh I — she won't — not she Ida. Fathei', let him go — it would be far better. \^Bell heard.^ Julia. There's the front door bell. ^Mr. Vallide bringing in his nephew with proper formality, I suppose. THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS 125 Geoff. I'll get out of the way. Julia [To Ida,] And they don't want us. [Exeimt Julia, Ida, and Geoff hi/ garden. [Stage left to Lord B. and Sir James. Enter Servant. Servant. Mr. Vallide and Mr. Robert Vallide. Enter Mr. Vallide a7id Robert Vallide. Robert is about twenty seven, good- looking, good vmnners, with an air of reserve and simjdicity. He should have a distinctive personality as of a strong mati able to hold his own. Lord B. [Going forwai-d to him.^ How do you do, Vallide ? Good of you to come. Not very tired, after your journey .'' Robert. Not at all — [shaking hands] — and de- lighted to come. Lord B. Do you know Sir James Caxton .'' Sir J, How do you do ? [Shaking hands.] Lord B. Well now ! Are your things here Robert. I left them at the hotel on my way up. Lord B. Oh — but we expect you to stay with us — plenty of room. Robert. But Lord B. We want you — then we can talk over things at leisure. Robert. [After a little pause.] Thank you very much — my uncle refuses to take me on to Rome with him- Lord B. Good : we are here for another ten days, and my sister — Lady Sarah St ration — she has kept 126 THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS house for me since my wife died — is expecting you. Now — shall we get to business ? Your uncle wants to go to-night, so there isn't much time. Sir J. I don't know whether I need stay ? Lord B. Yes — yes — we want you. [To Robert.] No doubt you were surprised to get your uncle's telegram. Robert. [ With a smile.] No. He was always prompt — and always telegraphs. Vallide. Ah ! the world I live in is a sturdy youngster, in a hurry to overtake the old one. Lord B. Quite right — let's sit down. [To Robert.] Mr. Vallide, your uncle expects a great deal of you. Vallide, I do. He must be Prime Minister some day. Robert. Rather a large order. Uncle Bob ! Vallide. It can be done — step by step. One gets to the top of a house by a ladder, not a jump. Lord B. [With a smile.] There's generally a trap- door, and narrow stairs that lead to it, [T^iming to Robert.] Is your interest in politics as keen as ever ? Robert. Quite. Lord B. Good. Have you thought of going into Parliament .^ Robert. Yes — but I didn't expect Lord B. Of course not, never expect anything. . . . Sir James intends to resign his seat for Fieldboroueh at the end of the Session. I happened to mention it to your uncle the other night, with the result that — well, the telegram. THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS 127 Robert. You think Lord B, 1 can think of nobody better to suggest to the Party than yourself— my opinion is sure to be asked on account of my local influence — and we shall be most fortunate if we can induce you to stand. Sir J. It would bother you less than most places ; there isn't much to subscribe to, and it's a good way from London . . . they can't bring you down for every bazaar or vestry meeting. Robert, [To Lord B.] I should be delighted if I thought I had a chance. Lord B. Chance — of course you'd have an excellent chance. It might be well to get some local standing, if you rented a place, for instance. I believe there'd be no difficulty. [Looking towards old Vallide,] Vallide. [Quickli/.] None. He can have as much money as he pleases, and half a million the day I see M.P. written after his name. There'll be another half-million when I die. Robert. This won't do. [Puiting his ha?id on his uncle s shoulder. '\ You mustn't take any notice of him. Lord Barnstaple. Vallide. You are my boy. I haven't any one else. Robert. Yes, Uncle Bob, I'm your boy, but too old to be tipped any longer. Lord B. Well, we shall be at Fieldborough at Whit- suntide, perhaps you'll come down and see a little of the neighbourhood. Robert. Thank you very much. You have 128 THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS taken me by surprise. But it is what I would like immensely, Valude. You can spend money like water. Robert. No ! Uncle Bob. It's difficult to disap- point you, but you gave me the weapons to fight my own battle, and you must let me do it. I don't want to spend money like water, and I'm not going to take that half-million — while you live at any rate. You may want to alter your mind about it, before you die. Lord B. There'll be expenses. Robert. They needn't be extravagant — and [look- ing at his uncle] I can meet them. I am modern enough to want only the money I've worked for. Lord B. Humph — I hope your views are sound — some of us, you see, can't help having money with- out working for it. Robert. An inheritance — excellent. It gives people a chance to do all sorts of things for the world that would never get done at all if everybody had to work for a living. Don't think I imagine that the working class consists only of those who earn money — some of the best work in the whole world has been done by men who never earned a penny in the tech- nical sense — they wouldn't have been able to do it if they had been poor. Lord B. Good. And on other points } Robert. On all points I am, politically, precisely what I was when I had the honour of being your Private Secretary. THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS 129 Lord B. That's right. Robert. But I should like to try for Fieldborough without taking a place, or trying to dazzle the electors. If there's a fight, all the better, but I don't want a money one. Sir J. Quite right. Money's overrated. I never got anything out of it, and if people can get it out of you they never want anything else ; it's generally a most degrading element in human life. Vallide. Well — it's only a man with a comfortable income who can afford to say that. Sir J. [To Vallide.] I daresay — I don't think you want me any more just now — 1 shall be happy to be of use to your nephew if I can. [Emt Sir James bij loggia. Lord B. [Tnming to Robert,] You are a pretty good speaker, I believe } Robert. I haven't had much opportunity, except at the Union — at Oxford, which doesn't count for much. Lord B. Well, but you helped Fuller with his election .'' Robert. I did a little. [Sir James, at e?id of loggia, signs to Lord B., as if he wanted to speak to him. Lord B. [Evidently pleased with Robert's modesty.^ Ah ! I think we shall get on. [To the Uncle Vallide ] He is quite right. Vallide. I'm delighted to hear you say it, my lord. Lord B. And don't be disappointed. Some day I 130 THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS he will marry; then you can settle that half-million on his wifC; or his heirs^ he'll want it as a background to his career, though he refuses it as a foundation. Vallide. [Good-7iaturedli/.] I'm very angry with him, but I rather like him for it Lord B. One moment — I think Caxton wants to speak to me. [Eocit Lord B. to loggia, where he stands well out of hearing, talking to Sir J. Robert. Thank you for that, Uncle Bob. \Then with a change of manner.^ And look here, it was splendid of you to telegraph for me, and Barnstaple's a brick. I'll fight Fieldborough with all my might, if I get the chance. He said I was ambitious — he's right — I am. Don't be afraid, Uncle Bob, no trap-doors or back staircases, but look up to the topmost rung, I'll make for it. Probably I shall come down crash like the Master- Builder, but never mind. Vallide. I'll make the fall soft for you if you do. [Robert shakes his head.^ And Lord Barnstaple gave me a tip just now by which I'll cheat the death-due- monger of a good deal all the same Robert. You immoral old scoundrel. Vallide. \^Delighted.] So you'd better set about collecting them. Robert. Collecting what .'' Vallide. Belongings. A wife, to begin with Robert. No, thank you Vallide. I think Lady Ida's sweet on you- THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS 131 Robert. Nonsense. She's a good sort, but not that kind of girl. I say — [change of vianner] — it's awfully kind of Lord Barnstaple to ask me to stay here, but I wish you'd let me go on to Rome with you to-morrow. Vallide. [Firmly.] No, my boy, it would bother me. It's always been my way to see what I've got, then to put it aside. Do you remember when you came out to Canada first ? Why, after a couple of days I wondered what I was going to do with you. Luckily, you had to be educated, that took you off. Just the same when you came back. I couldn't sleep the night before you arrived, but once I'd seen you again I didn't want you to stay very long. When a man's lived his life alone he has to be left to himself to the end. . . . Perhaps we mayn't get another word together this journey, but think over the hint I've given you. When you marry want to be proud of your wife Robert. [Gaily.] You shall Vallide. She'll be proud enough of yo Robert. Don't say that or I shall have we rd future. Vallide. You're pure gold Robert. Pure gold is too soft for the wear and tear of this world, Uncle Bob — and you make me feel like the good young man who died. Vallide. Who was he ? Robert. He painted beautifully in water-colours, and of such is the Kingdom of Heaven. Not my 132 THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS sort, Uncle Bob — I want to live, to live ! I'm not the puny, half-starved boy any more — you nourished me, and the fresh life of the New World — where it is still morning time and the strength of the day is before it — stirs my pulses sometimes till I feel as if I could carry the univei'se in a bag swung over my shoulders. Vallide. That's what I want you to do — that's what I want. \Lo7ver tone.'\ They're coming. Enter Julia and Ida hy loggia. Ida. How do you do, Mr. Vallide? [Shakes kands.^ You know my cousin. Lady Caxton .'' [Ida rings the bcov Julia. iTo Robert.] How do you do.'' We all know you. Re-enter Sir James and Lord B., talking ; they hang back at first. Servants come in with tea. [Ida crosses stage with Robert Vallide. He and she stand Jirst, then sit on sofa l., grand piano behind them. Ida. \Turni71g to Robert.] I'm so glad you were able to come. Robert. So am I. Ida. [Looking round and speaking to Lady Caxton.] Julia, I wonder if you would make tea — I want to talk to Mr. Vallide. Julia. Of course. [Sit own to table, with Sir J. and Lord B. near her.^ THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS 133 Ida. [Tiirning again to Robert.] Father tells me that he has asked you to come to us at Court Acres — Fieldborough, you know. Robert. I shall look forward to it. Ida. It's very dull — Sir James was horribly bored — but they are waking up — that's what father is so afraid of, for then they'll want to go away — there isn't enough work for them there. Robert. It must be found ! Every place should have its own industry — its own workers — work that can be done under a clear sky and in pure air. We want to grow strong men, not anaemics cooped up in cities Ida. Tell them so ! Sir James wouldn't talk to them. Robert. He sees things Ida. [Quickly.] I think that too. Perhaps a spell has been put upon him, and he has to be silent. Robert. Perhaps. [Looking round.] This place is like a dream, and a spell sounds the most natural thing in the world. Looks round at the tea-table.: [Change of manner.] Some tea .'' Ida. Please. [They go together to the tea-table at which Julia is presidiiig, but remain standing. Robert. [To Ida.] By the way, I met a friend of yours at dinner the other night— Colonel Endsleigh. [Julia looks up. Ida. [Demwely.] Oh, Robert. He said he was coming to Paris and Monte Carlo, and going back by Genoa. 134 THOMAS AND THE PRINCESS Sir J. [Grimipili/ .] When is he going back to India ? Robert. In October Sir J. [JVho lias been listeimig.^ Ah ! Robert. [To Ida.] Now — bread and butter ! [Ha7ids some to Ida, who retreats towards sofa again with her tea. Robert puts the plate back on table and turns to rejo'm Ida — looks towards garden, gives a little start, hesitates, and says in a different tone:^ Who is that coming up the garden by the orange- trees ? [Ida turns her head as May Murison conies up the steps to the loggia. Ida. Oh, it's my cousin. [Robert stands stock-still staring at her. Ida, looking at him in surprise, after a paused] Do you know her .'' Robert. [Without moving his eyes from May.] No. Enter May. Robert stands hesitating. He and she look at each other. Julia. [To May.] Did you get your pots.'' May. I did. Lord B. [Gets ?