5182
Ml
THE LIBRARY
OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA
LOS ANGELES
GIFT OF
Richard Petrie
Arthur W. Pinero
Sweet Lavender
A COMEDY IN THREE ACTS
Walter H. Baker 6 Co., Boston
<a. W. ^tnero'0 Wm
THF AMAZONS ^*'"*'® ^^ Three Acts. Seven males, five females.
Costumes, modern ; scenery, not difficult. Plays
a full evening.
THP fARIVFT MUtflCTPD Farce in Four Acts. Ten males, nine
lUC WAOtnCl fllinWlCH females. Costumes, modern society ;
scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening.
DANDY DICI^ Farce in Three Acts. Seven males, four females.
Costumes, modern ; scenery, two interiors. Plays
two hours and a half.
THF fiAY LORD ODEX Comedy in Four Acts. Fovir males, ten
^^ ^ " females. Costumes, modem ; scenery,
two Interiors and an exterior. Plays a full evening.
BIS BocsE IN ORDER ^::^''^ztT:J^:r;'^x
three interiors. Plays a full evening.
THF HORHY HOfiSP ^'^''^^^7 ^ Three Acts. Ten males, five
^^ females. Costumes, modern; scenery easy.
Plays two hours and a half.
IRIS ^''^''^^ ^^ Five Acts. Seven males, seven females. Costumes,
modem ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening.
I ADY ROIINTIFIII ^^^^ *** ^""'^ ^^^^' ^^^^ males, seven fe-
I4 V ^ VLt Qjg^jgg Costumes, modem ; scenery, four in-
teriors, not easy. Plays a full evening.
I pTTV Drama In Four Acts and an Epilogue. Ten males, five fe-
^ males. Costumes, modern ; scenery complicated. Plays a
full evening.
Sent prepaid on receipt of price by
l^altet; 1$. OBafeer S, Compani?
No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts
SWEET LAVENDER
A COMEDY IN THREE ACTS
BY
ARTHUR W. PINERO
All right g reserved. Per formatue forbidden,
and right of representation reserved. Applica-
tion for tfte right of performing this piece must
be made to the publishers.
BOSTON
COPTBIGHT, 1893, BY
ARTHUR W. PINERO
All Righta Reaervtd
pf?
THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY.
Horace Bream (a young American).
Geoffrey Wedderburn (of Wedderbum, Green
& Hoskett, Bankers, Barnchester).
Clement Hale (his adopted son, studijing for the
Bar).
Richard Phenyl (a Barrister).
Dr. Delaney (a fashionable Physician).
Mr. Bulger (Haiixlresser and Wigmaker).
Mr. Maw (a Solicitor).
Minnie Gilfillian {Niece of Mr. Wedderburn).
Ruth Rolt {Housekeeper and Laundress at No. 3,
Brain Court, Temple).
Lavender (her daughter).
Mrs. Gilfillian (a ividow — Wedderbum's sister
— Minnie's mother).
906:^:m
THE FIKST ACT.
Morning. ''Nobody's Business."
THE SECOND ACT.
Evening of the Next Day. " Somebody's
Business."
THE THIRD ACT.
A Week Later. "Everybody's Business."
SCENE.
Chambers of Mr. Phenyl and Mr.
Br am Court, Temple, London.
The Present Day.
Hale, No. 3,
Springtime.
AUTHOR'S NOTE.
The author of " Sweet Lavender " begs to remind his Am-
erican patrons — amongst whom there may be those who are
unfamiliar with the mode of life he attempts to depict in this
play — that a set of chambers in the precincts of the Temple,
though constituting only a portion of a house, is a distinct and
separate establishment. Each set of chambers has an inde-
pendent door opening upon a common stairway, behind which
door the occupant of the chambers is as much the lord of a
castle as if he were in enjoyment of a mansion or a villa sur-
rounded by a brick wall.
" Chambers " consist of three or four rooms, and perhaps a
pantry, and are often shared by two boon companions. The
female domestic attached to the house — who flits, not unlike
the busy bee, from floor to floor — is, in the phraseology of
Temple life, called the " Laundress ; " and if, like Ruth Rolt,
she dwells upon the premises, she enjoys the further distinc-
tion of being the " Housekeeper."
The man who shelters in the Temple precincts obtains a
silent security from the conventionalities of society. He is
untrammelled, uncriticised, unobserved ; and while he pursues
the career, either of a devoted student or an ardent Bohe-
mian, the oaken door which closes upon his rooms shuts him off
from the world as conclusively as if he were a monk in a cell.
INTRODUCTORY NOTE
" Sweet Lavender" must be regarded as one of the
most successful stage-plays of modern times, and there
can be no question that it has proved so far the most
popular of Mr. Pinero's works. Its representations may
be counted by the thousand, and its popularity has exten-
ded over many latitudes. The reason of this is not far to
seek ; it proclaims itself in the gentle humanity and genial
humour of the play, and the lovable creation of the golden-
hearted, weak-natured, down-at-heel Dick Phenyl. The
very simplicity and unpretentiousness of this domestic
comedy have apparently disarmed any antagonistic criti-
cism which might have been expected from those critics of
cynical temper and pessimistic mood who are wont to look
for the stern realities of life even in the most purposely ge-
nial of theatrical entertainments. And if these, in view of
the preponderance of kindly human nature in the play, elect
to regard "Sweet Lavender" as a sort of modern fairy-
tale rather than an actual and realistic study of life, cer-
tainly no one would be more ready to agree with them
than Mr. Pinero himself. He avowedly designed the
piece as a pleasant entertainment, and the proof that he
accomplished his purpose is the fact of the phenomenally
successful career of the work all over the world. Had
Mr. Pinero in the early months of 1888 written a play of
the order of " The Second Mrs. Tanqueray" for Terry's
5
INTRODUCTORY NOTE
Theatre, the result would in all probability have been
disaster.
" Sweet Lavender" was first produced on Wednesday
evening, March 21st, 1888, and was from the first re-
ceived with so much enthusiasm that at once the play-
going public began to flock to Terry's Theatre. Mr.
Pinero's comedy, in fact, drew the town, Mr. Edward
Terry's Dick I'henyl became almost a household word, and
the play held its place in the programme continuously until
January 25th, 1890, by which date it had been performed
as many as 683 times. But this was not the end of its
career at Terry's Theatre, for, after Mr. Edward Terry's
holiday trip to India, the actor-manager signalised his
return by a revival of " Sweet Lavender" on October 4th,
1890, and between that date and November 26th of the
same year, 54 performances were given, bringing the
number of representations at this house up to 737.
The following copy of the first night's programme of
the original production at Terry's will be interesting for
future reference :
TERRY'S THEATRE,
105 & 106 STRAND.
SoLB Lessbb and Managbr, Mr. Edwakd TmKT«
WEDNESDAY, MARCH 21, 1888,
FOR THE FIRST TIME,
An Original Domestic Drama, in Three Acts, entitled
SWEET LAVENDER,
BV
A. W. PINERO.
6
INTRODUCTORY NOTE
Mr. Geoffrey Wedderburn (of
Wedderburn, Green & Hoskett,
Bankers, Barnchester)
Clement Hale (his adopted Son,
studying for the Bar) .
Dr. Delaney (a fashionable Phy-
sician) .....
Dick Phenyl (a Barrister) .
Horace Bream (a young American)
Mr. Maw (a Solicitor) .
Mr. Bulger (Hairdresser and Wig-
maker) . . . . •
Mrs. Gilfillian (a Widow — Mr.
Wedderburn's Sister)
Minnie (her Daughter) .
Ruth Rolt (Housekeeper and
Laundress at 3 Brain Court,
Temple) .....
Lavender (her daughter)
Mr. Brandon Thomas.
Mr. Bernard Gould.
Mr. Alfred Bishop.
Mr. Edward Terry.
Mr. F. Kerr.
Mr. Sant Matthews.
Mr. T. C. Valentine.
Miss M. A. Victor.
Miss Maude Millett.
Miss Carlotta Addison
Miss NORREYS.
ACT I.
NOBODY'S BUSINESS.
Morning.
INTERVAL OF TEN MINUTES.
ACT II.
SOMEBODY'S BUSINESS.
Evening of the next day.
INTERVAL OF TWELVE MINUTES.
7
INTRODUCTORY NOTE
ACT III.
EVERYBODY'S BUSINESS.
A week afterwards.
Scent : Chambers of Mr. Phenyl and Mr. Hale, 3 Brain Courts
Tetn/ile.
SPRINGTIME — THE PRESENT DAY.
SCENE DESIGNED AND PAINTED BY T. W. HALL.
Mr. T. W. Robertson, who, as a manager and actor of
considerable provincial experience, was prompt to recog-
nise the certain popularity of *' Sweet Lavender " with the
immense playgoing public outside the metropolis, at Christ-
mas 1888 commenced a series of provincial tours with
Mr. Pinero's play, and these tours lasted until November
5th, 1 891, 697 performances having been given in the
meanwhile. Since then other travelling companies have
performed the play many hundred times all over the
United Kingdom, and it finds a continuously appreciative
pubUc.
In America Mr. Pinero's famous comedy has become a
stock piece, and its representations have been countless
since Mr. Daniel Frohman first produced it at the Lyceum
Theatre, New York. Australia has also taken very
kindly to the play, which was first introduced to Antipo-
dean audiences by Mr. Frank Thornton, and, during
Mr. Edward Terry's recent visit to the colony, " Sweet
Lavender " was naturally expected from him as its original
8
INTRODUCTORY NOTE
producer, and it was received with enthusiasm at his
hands. In South Africa it has also enjoyed frequent
representation; in the West Indies it has been much in
favour; and Mr. Thornton will shortly take the play to
India.
But " Sweet Lavender," like "The Profligate "and " The
Magistrate," has appealed beyond the English-speaking
body of playgoers to those of the Teutonic and Italian
tongues. It has been very frequently performed in Ger-
many in an adaptation which eliminates the sentimental
interest to a large extent and lays greater stress on the
comic ; while the Italian stage knows it also by a version
from the pen of a well-known Italian writer. Further-
more, "Sweet Lavender" was recently acted in Russia
by a company organised for the purpose of presenting
English plays in that country.
Malcolm C. Salaman.
October, 1893.
SWEET LAVENDER
THE FIRST ACT
The scene is the comfortably furnished sittinr/-room
of some baiTisters' chambers at 3 Brain Court,
Temple. On the spectator's left and right are
the doors leading respectively to the bedrooms of
EicHARD Phenyl and Clement Hale. At the
further end of the room; on the left, is a cur-
tained opening leading into a kind of passage,
where a butler'' s tray stands., and facing the
outer door of the chambers. The corresponding
part of the room, xvhere the windows look on to
the Court, forms a kind of recess curtained off
from the rest.
It is a bright spring morning.
Ruth Rolt, a slim, delicate-looking woman of about
35, with a sweet face and a sad soft voice, humbly
but very neatly dressed, is laying the breakfast
things upon the table.
Bulger, a meek bald-headed man, carrying a little
old leather bag, a brass pot of hot water, and,
some clean towels, enters quietly.
Bulger.
I've give Mr. 'Ale a nice shave, Mrs. Rolt — clean
5
6 SWEET LAVENDER
and quick. Water's 'ot enough for me jist to run
over Mr. Phenyl's face if 'e's visible.
Ruth.
I'm afraid Mr. Phenyl isu't well enough for you
this morning, Mr. Bulger.
Bulger.
Not one of 'is mornin's, hey ?
[Ruth goes to the right-hand door and
knocks sharply.
Ruth.
ICalling.'] Mr. Phenyl! Mr. Phenyl! The
barber.
Bulger.
[^Mildly behind his hand.'] 'Airdresser.
Ruth.
Hairdresser. [ With a Tnournful shake of the
head.] No use.
Bulger.
Well, Mrs. Rolt, I do wonder at a sooperior young
gentleman like Mr. 'Ale stoopin' to reside with one
of Mr. Phenyl's sort.
Ruth.
[^Firing up.] What do you mean ? One of Mr.
Phenyl's sort I
Bulger.
I mean a person who's seen staggerin' 'ome with
uncertain footfalls at all hours of the mornin', and
can't 'old up his 'ead for shavin' more than twice a
week.
SWEET LA VENDER 7
EUTH.
I shouldn't wonder if Mr. Hale finds something
to like, something to respect in Mr. Phenyl, with
all his faults.
Bulger.
P'raps so. But to reflect that Mr. 'Ale used to
be such a swell, as the say in' goes, over in Pear
Tree Court ; and then, three weeks back, to come
'ere and take up with the untidiest chin in the
Inner Temple — it's bewilderin'.
Ruth.
ITmpatientbj.'] Oh ! [ Walks iq) to the window,
where she stands waiting for Bulger to go.~\
Bulger.
[ With a sigh.'] Good mornin', Mrs. Rolt.
KUTH.
[ Without fuming.'] Good morning.
[Bulger, on his wat/ to the door, pauses,
deposits his brass pot and towels o?i the
table, then opens his hag mournfully.
EuTH.
[ Turning with surprise.'] Mr. Bulger !
Bulger.
I'm still 'oping, Mrs. Eolt.
EuTH.
It's good to be hoping for something in this
world, Mr. Bulger.
8 SWEET LA VENDER
Bulger.
[^Taking a piece of paper out of his hag and ad-
vancing towards Ruth.] My affection for you has
now took poetic form, ma'am. Will you accept
the heartiest effort ?
Ruth.
No, thank you. I —
Bulger.
Think, Mrs. Rolt. When it comes to poetry it
comes to something. I, Edmund Bulger, widower,
have loved you, Mrs. Ruth Rolt, widow, ever since
you fust set foot in the Temple, fifteen years ago,
a-bearing your two-year-old baby in your arms,
ma'am.
Ruth.
\_Pained.'] Don't — don't.
Bulger.
I was the fust wot ever put scissors to your little
Lavender's silky head, Mrs. Rolt.
Ruth.
Yes, I know that.
Bulger.
And I've had the 'andlin' of your tresses too —
ay, and the singein' of 'em — till I found I loved
you too fond to do your 'air what I call justice.
\Ghoniily offering his verses.'] And now it's come
down to poetry.
Ruth.
\_Tuming away.] It's no good, indeed.
SWEET LA VENDER 9
Bulger.
\SuTveying the paper doubtfully. '\ It ain't much
good, but intellectually it's my all, ma'am. You
won't ?
Ruth.
No, Mr. Bulger, please.
Bulger.
\_Putt'ing away the paper and talcing xip his
things.'] Adjourned shie die, ma'am. \_Turning
solemnly.'] I take leave for to mention that Mr.
Justice Tyler's noo wig which I sent 'ome yester-
day nips him at the nap o' the neck. Also that I
cut Mr. Fritchett, the emment Q.C.'s chin, in his
own chambers yesterday ; a mole as I've skipped
over these ten years like a gladsome child. I don't
want to make a mountain out of a mole, Mrs. Rolt,
but these facts denote the failin' 'and, ma'am.
Good mornin'.
\_As Bulger is going there is a knock at the
outside door, which he opens, and admits
Dr. Delanev, a genial old Irish gentle-
man with silvery-grey hair and whiskers.
Dr. Delaney.
Thank ye — I'm much obliged to ye. I'm call-
ing on Mr. Hale. [Bulger goes out.'] Is it Mrs.
Rolt?
Ruth.
Yes, sir.
Dr. Delanet.
I'm Doctor Delaney. I've just had the pleasure
of seeing your daughter downstairs in the kitchen
— in the basement.
10 SWEET LAVENDER
Ruth.
My daughter ?
Dr. Delaney.
The fact is I'm a friend of Mr. Hale's, and when
I met him a night or two back at a little party, he
told me that the child of his laundress — of the
lady who moinds the house where he has chambers
— was looking a little peaky, and that if ever I
was near the Temple —
Ruth.
Oh, how good of Mr. Hale !
Dii. Delaney.
Oh, deloightful of him.
Ruth.
\_Gratefully .~\ And you too, Doctor.
Dr. Delaney.
{^Taking her two hands in his for a moment.']
Don't speak of it — not a bit. Mr. Hale isn't out
of his bed yet, I take it ?
Ruth.
Yes, Doctor, he'll breakfast in a minute.
[^She goes to a door and knocks.
Dr. Delaney.
[To himself.'] Now I wonder whether this boy
is smitten with the bit of a girl downstairs. Ah !
thank goodness, it's no business of mine J
Ruth.
^Knocking again.] Mr. Hale I
SWEET LAVENDER il
Clement.
\In his room.'] Yes ?
Ruth.
Dr. Delaney, please.
Clement.
[^Calling.'] Oh, thank you. I'm coming.
[Ruth continues laying the table.
Dr. Delaney.
[To himself.'] It would be a great disappoint-
ment to Wedderburn the banker if the lad he's
adopted did anything absurd. But, thank good-
ness, it's no business of mine.
Ruth.
Don't you think my girl is looking very pale.
Doctor ?
Dr. Delaney.
Ah, don't worry yourself now. It's the air of the
Temple. She's a white chrysanthemum instead
of a pink one. Your daughter's strong enough.
Ruth.
Bless you for telling me that ! My Sweet Lav-
ender !
Dr. Delaney.
You're a little pale yourself now.
Ruth.
/— oh, I've had trouble.
12 SWEET LAVENDER
Dr. Dklaney.
Ah, you're a widow, I'm sorry to hear, Mrs. Rolt.
Ruth.
Yes, Doctor.
Dr. Delanet.
\_To himself. ~\ And you're right about the
trouble you've had if I'm any judge of faces.
[^Sadly.~\ Thank goodness, it's no business of
mine. [To Ruth.'] Have you been alone a long
while ?
Ruth.
\_Coldly.'] I lost Lavender's father before she
was born.
Dr. Delanet.
Ah, that's a pity now,
Ruth.
And she's all I have in the world, Doctor. In
fact, she's myself. At times I think she's as old
as I, or I as young as she. I feel her smile on my
face, and the pains and aches I suffer go to her
young bones. When she is poring over her lessons
at night I am sure my eyes smart, for it —
Dr. Delaney.
Her lessons ! What lessons are those ?
Ruth,
She's a little backward, and works hard with her
books in the evening ! Mr. Hale has been good
enough to help her.
SWEET LA VENDER 13
Dr. Delaney.
Oh, has he ? And she's very fond of her books —
have ye noticed ?
Ruth.
Yes, very.
Dr. Delaney.
Then the only thing I've got to recommend is
this — that ye'U put a stop to the lessons for six
months or so.
Ruth.
Very well, Doctor. Poor Lavvy !
Dr Delaney.
\To himself.'] I've hit it. Oh, thank goodness,
this is no business of mine !
Clement Hale enters. He is a handsome boyish
young man of about three and twenty, immacu-
lately dressed in a fashionable dressing suit.
Dr. Delaney !
Mee dear boy !
Clement.
Dr. Delaney.
Clement.
They call you a fashionable physician, and you're
found in the City at ten in the morning.
Dr. Delaney.
Mee dear boy, I'll let you into a secret — we
can't get human ailments to keep fashionable
hours.
14 SWEET LAVENDER
Clement.
\Lieadin(j him over to the armchair. '\ Best-
hearted and best-humoured creature in London, sit
in the best chair.
Ruth.
[To Clement.] Dr. Delaney has seen Lavender.
I — I can't thank you.
Clement.
\_Smilinff.'] Please, don't. [With assumed care-
lessness, to Delaney.] What do you think of the
child ?
Dr. Delaney.
[Hesitatingly.'] Oh — she's been increasing her
knowledge a little too rapidly, that's all.
Ruth.
Lavender has to give up her lessons for six
months, the Doctor says. Isn't it a pity, Mr. Hale?
[Ruth goes out.
Clement.
Give lip her lessons ?
Dr. Delaney.
Now, it's no good overloading the brain of a
young girl. Now, is it ?
Clement.
[Carelessly turning aivay.~\ No, no.
Dr. Delaney.
[To himself.] No, nor the heart neither. Good
gracious ! Here's poor Wetlderburn travelling
abroad in happy ignorance, and it's nobody's busi-
SWEET LA VENDER 15
ness to look after the boy he loves like a son.
Well, it's not my business at any rate.
[^There is the sudden sound of the fall of
some heavy object in the adjacent room.
Dr. Delaney.
What's that now ?
Clement.
That ? Oh, that's Dick.
Dk. Delaney.
Dick, is it ?
Clement.
Mr. Richard Phenyl, barrister-at-law. I share
his chambers. Dick's dressing.
Dr. Delaney.
Dropped his waistcoat.
Clement.
Poor Dick ! If you saw him I dare say you'd
be shocked at my making a companion of a man
like Dick Phenyl.
Dr. Delaney.
Dear me !
Clement.
But I know what good there is in old Dick, and
how the good burns clearer and brighter in his
slovenly person than in many who've had luck and
love and luxury in their lives — which Dick hasn't.
I shall pull him round yet. Like to know him ?
I6 SWEET LAVENDER
Dr. Delanet.
I loike to know everybody.
Clement.
\Optning the door sli(jhtly.'\ Dick ! \_To De-
LANEY.] Yoii won't see him to advantage. I was
busy last night, and he ran off the rails a little.
Dick! [^Turning away from the door.'] All right.
Dick Phenyl enters and walks unsteadily towards
Clement. Dick is a shattered and dissolute-
looking man of about five and forty, with
shaggy iron-grey hair and ragged ivhiskers —
a pale and cadaverous face, and a suggestion of
redness about the nose. lie wears the wreck
of a once gaudy smoking jacket, ivhich hangs
loosely upon him, and his appearance has gen-
erally a down-at-heel appearance. But, with
all, he ])resents the remains of a gentleman,
and — after he has recovered himself — liis
manner, though eccentric, is refined and good-
humoured.
Dick.
Clemen', my boy — good mor'ing.
■ Clement.
\_Reproachfidly. ] Hallo, Dick, Hallo !
Dick.
I know wha' you infer, Clemen'. I'm a little
late in falling — I mean, in rising, this mor'ing.
Clement.
[ With mock severity.] A little early in going to
bed this morning, Mr. Phenyl.
SWEET LAVENDER \^
Dick.
Clemen', my boy, you're so unreasonable. I had
an imporrant appointment at the " Steak and Tur-
bot," in Flee' Street — a very old-established inn,
Clemen' — Doc'or Johnson and all that sor' o' thing.
I'm none the worse for it, Clemen'.
Clement.
Are you any the better ?
Dick.
I'm about the same, Clemen'.
Clement.
Let me introduce my friend, Doctor Delaney.
Dick.
Wha' nonsense — Doc'or Johnson.
Clement.
Doctor Delaney.
Dick.
\To Delaney.] I beg your par'on — I didn't
perceive you when I firs' came in.
\_He walks rather unsteadily to Delaney,
shakes hands with him, then sits on the
sofa.
Dr. Delaney.
Delighted to make your acquaintance, Mr.
Phenyl.
Dick.
Than'g yoa. "Were you here when you heard
that noise in q«x' room ?
l8 SWEET LA VENDER
Dr. Delanby.
I heard a noise.
Dick.
The pattern on my berroin carpet — dam' 'noy-
ing. I had that carpet turned las' week, borrom
upwards — still dam' 'noying pattern. Different
pattern, but pattern. Trip up anybody.
Dr. Delaney.
[To Clement.] I happen to have a little some-
thing in my pocket that'll pull him together.
Clement.
Give it him, for heaven's sake.
Dr. Delaney.
I want a tumbler.
Dick.
Tum'ler ! Tum'ler !
[Dick goes rapidly to the sideboard and
fetches a tumbler and a decanter of spirits.
Clement.
\_Qmetly.~\ Look out.
[Delaney takes the tumbler and decanter
from Dick, and hands the decanter to
Clement, ivho replaces it on the side-
board. Retaining the tumbler, Delaney
measures into it some drops from a phial
he has taken from his pocket.
Dick.
\_Mystified.'] Perfec' conjuring trick.
SWEET LAVENDER 19
Clement.
\Offering a carafe of water.'] Water ?
Dick.
IQuickly.'] Ver' little !
[Delanet po^irs some water into the tum-
bler, then gives it to Dick.
Dr. Delaney.
Swallow that, now.
Dick.
Not spirits, I hope — at this hour o' the mor'ing ?
Dr. Delanet.
No, no.
Dick.
[^Aniwyed.'] Why not ?
Dr. Delaney.
That's a blessed antidote to the voilest poison
the devil ever put his red seal on — I allude to
Scotch whiskey, not Irish.
Dick.
Wha' nonsense — blessed anecdote.
Dr. Delaney.
Come, come, drink my health, sor.
Dick.
[Thicklij.'\ "The Queen!"
[Dick drinks the contents of the tumbler^
then coughs and splutters.
so SWEET LA VENDER
Dr. Delanet.
How's tliat, now ?
Dick.
Wants keeping another year at least. Oh !
[Dick xorlthes a little as if in pain, then
sits on the sofa and buries his head in
his hands.
Dr. Delaney.
He's all right. I'm off.
Ruth enters with a tray.
Clement.
You won't breakfast with us, Dr. Delaney ?
Dr. Delaney.
God bless ye for asking me, but I'm very busy
over this new hobby of mine. You've heard of it ?
" The Home of Forgetfulness ! "
Clement.
« The Home of Forgetfulness ! " What's that ?
Dr. Delaney.
It's a new home I've endowed for a hundred soft-
hearted women who are willing to put themselves
at my beck-and-call to nurse the sick and the ailin',
rich and poor. I shall be the commander-in-chief
with a trained army at my own barracks.
Clement.
And you do all this alone ?
SWEET LAVENDER 21
Dr. Delaney.
Ah, why not ? Some of us so-called fashionable
physicians have made so much money out of those
who haven't anything the jnatter with 'em that it's
hard if we can't do a little for the benefit of those
who have.
Clement.
But why " The Home of Forgetfulness " ?
Dr. Delaney.
Because it's only by a bed of sickness that many
a woman can forget the trouble and pain and dis-
appointment this wurrld has brought her. [^Taking
Clement's hand.'] God bless ye, mee boy.
Clement.
God bless yoxi, Doctor Delaney ! I wish more of
us were like you.
Dr. Delaney.
Go along, now. Good-bye. [^Looking at Clement,
then at Dick.] Ah, it's no business of mine.
\_He bustles out, brushing past Ruth.
Ruth.
\_Under her breath to Delaney as he passes her."]
Doctor !
[He passes through the passage. She following
him.
Clement.
[^Calling after Delaney.] Good-bye I
33 SWEET LAVENDER
Dr. Delanet.
\In the distance.'] Good-bye.
[Dick havirif/ roused himself with a shake and
a shiver, looks up, blinking his eyes, his
drunkenness gone.
Dick.
Clem \jgoing to the table and lifting up the dish-
cover] — Sweetbread — we haven't had
breakfast. \_Calling.] Clem!
[Clemknt c/o.se.s the passage door, arid draiv-
ing the curtain over the opening, comes to
the table.
Clement.
Hallo !
Dick.
\_Severely.'] You're always late for breakfast,
Clement.
Clement.
\_Putting his hand on Dick's shoulder and survey-
ing him.] Delaney understands your case, evidently,
Dick.
Delaney ?
Clement.
That was Cormack Delaney, the dear old doctor
of Wigmore Street.
Dick.
Oh ! I wish you had introduced me. Shall we
toss for the armchair as usual ?
SWEET LAVENDER 23
Clement.
Certainly.
[Clement fosses a coin and catches it on the
back of his hand, covering it.
Clement.
Call!
[Dick throws his coin in the air — it falls
Tnany yards aivay from liivi, but he covers
the back of his hand as if he had caught
the coin. Clement laughs.
Dick.
[ Uncovering his hand disajipointed.^ Oh, never
mind — woman !
Clement.
Yours.
[Dick sits in the armchair. Clement helps
Dick to siveetbread, then pours out tea.
Clement.
No appetite, I suppose ?
Dick.
[^As if with a disagreeable taste in his mojith.']
Hem ! I fancy my liver isn't as it should be.
Clement.
Ah ! Dick, Dick, you've broken your word to me
again.
Dick.
[Cheerfully.'] The last time, Clement, my boy
— the last time.
24 SWEET LAVENDER
Clement.
It's always the last time, Dick.
Dick.
[^Making a clatter ivith his knife and fork, iiri-
tably.'] Don't talk childishly. Last night was the
last time ; it will be the last time. You're inva-
riably finding fault, Clement — it's discouraging.
Blame, blame, blame ; but praise — oh dear, no!
Clement.
Praise for what ?
Dick.
[Bitterly.'] It is hardly for a man of ray age to
indicate to a hoy the particular qualities. \^Appeal-
ingly.'] Clem, Clem, I'm sorry — there. I apolo-
gise. Never again. \_Holding out his Jtand.] Friends,
Clement, my boy ? Word of honour, my boy.
Clement.
\_Gripping his hand.] Word of honour, Dick.
Dick.
[ Vigorously.] Done. But do try to commend a lit-
tle more, Clement — to praise, to encourage. Much
may be done by kindness. \_Cheerfully.] Sweet-
bread ?
Clement.
\_Absently.] No, thanks, Dick.
Dick.
Off your feed ? Spoonful of whiskey in your
tea — tone to the stomach.
SWEET LAVENDER 25
Clement.
Dick, Delaney says that little Lavender Rolt
ought to discontinue her studies.
Dick.
Oh I
Clement.
\Leaving the table.] Confound it ! When she is
making such progress.
[Clement sits with his elbows on the writ-
ing-table and his head resting on his hand.
Dick.
Hallo, Clement, my boy ! [ Going over to Clem-
ent sympathetically.^ This won't do.
Clement.
What won't do ?
Dick.
Clem, no man is quite so sober as the individual
who is occasionally otherwise. All his acuteness is
concentrated upon his brief lucid intervals, and in
those intervals his acuteness is — devilish. [^Lay-
ing his hand on Clement's shoulder.'^ Clement !
Clement.
Dick!
Dick.
When you took compassion upon a worthless,
broken-down reprobate — I allude to the gentleman
now liououred with the attention of the House —
you did a tine thing ; but don't spoil it, Clement,
my boy!
26 SWEET LAIENDER
Clement.
What do you mean ? What is there to spoil ?
Dick.
Your career. D'ye think I haven't seen this
coming on — your giving little Lavender hints in
grammar and composition, and buying her Boyle's
Arithmetic, and explaining the difference between
a Cape and an Istlunus in the dusk by that win-
dow ? No, no, Clement, my boy, it wouldn't an-
swer — for the sake of her peace of mind and your
future, pull up before the mischief's done !
Clement.
{^Taking Dick's hand.'] You're too late, Dick.
I love her.
Dick.
[Spluttering with anger, and shaking his fist at
Clement.] Out of my chambers ! This is gratitude.
This is how you profit by the counsel and companion-
ship of a man double your age ! I've done with you.
Clement.
Very well, Dick.
Dick.
\_Rushing at him.'] Clement, my boy, I'm a little
angry now — [tearfully] — but I shall work round,
Clem. You haven't breathed a word to the poor
child, have you ?
Clement.
Not a word, Dick.
SWEET LA VENDER 27
Dick.
Thank you, Clem. Lavvy must be sent into the
country for the benefit of her health, and then —
there'll be an end of it.
Clement.
Dick ! Why should there be an end of it ?
Dick.
Don't talk to me, sir, like that ! Haven't you been
adopted by a Mr. What's-his-name, a banker, sir ?
Clement.
Well?
Dick.
If a banker should adopt Trie, you'd see something
like behaviour, sir. Why, if you offend your father,
as you call him, you'll be a pauper ; you'll be like
Richard Phenyl, Esq., of the Inner Temple !
Clement.
Why should I offend Mr. Wedderburn by loving
a girl who is simple and honest and generous and
courtly ; whose only vice is that she is not dressed
by a Bond Street milliner ?
Dick.
Don't come to me when you're starving, that's all.
Clement.
Nonsense, Dick. At the worst I shall have my
profession.
28 SWEET LAVENDER
Dick.
Profession ! What good is my profession to me ?
[^Snatching a dirty pipe from the mantelpiece sav-
agely.'] Besides, ain't you engaged to a beautiful —
a Miss Thing-a-my — Mr. Wedderburn's niece ?
Clement.
Mrs. Gilfillian's daughter and I were thrown
together as children, and I believe there was some
idea —
Dick.
Ha ! You believe !
Clement.
But I'm sure that Minnie Gilfillian troubles her
pretty head very little about me.
Dick.
Hadn't you better wait till Miss Gilfillian and
Mrs. Gilfillian and Mr. Wedderburn bring their
three pretty heads back to England ?
Clement.
Wait ! I can't stop the beating of my heart, Dick
— and it beats Lavender, Lavender, Lavender, every
moment of the day. [^He buries his head in his hands.
Dick.
One last word, Clement, my boy. [Slowly and care-
fully filling his pipe.] The story of Cinderella hasn't
been properly told yet. There was no pumpkin and
no fairy. The carriage came from Windover's and
the pair of bays from Tattersall's, at the young
SWEET LA VENDER 29
gentleman's order. The girl was pretty and good,
and he loved her, Clement, but the time arrived
when the slippers wore down at the heel and had
to be replaced by a size larger. And, by and bye
— it's a sad story — he noticed that her little sharp
elbows didn't get whiter, poor thing ! and that she
mixed up the first and third person in accepting
Lady Montmorency's kind invitation to dine. And
one day a carriage and pair were for sale, Clement
— as good as new — the property of a gentleman
leaving England, who was no longer answerable for
the debts contracted by Cinderella, his wife.
Clement.
The hero of your story was a cad, Dick I
Dick.
The hero of any story generally is. There — take
my sermon or leave it. But it's because I love
you, and because this poor woman, Ruth Eolt, has
been for fifteen years a good friend to a shaggy
worthless cur, that I won't let you and her child
make each other wretched without raising my bark
against it. Amen, Clement, my boy — Amen !
[JETe drops into the armchair facing the fire
and lights his pipe. There is a low
knock from the other side of the cur-
tained opening.
Clement.
There's that man of mine, Jenks — he gets later
and later every morning.
30 SWEET LAVENDER
Dick.
{Growling.'^ Learn to dress yourself. / dress
myself. [ The knock is repeated.
Clement.
[Angrily.'] Come in !
Lavender, a slight pretty girl, about seventeen,
shabbily dressed, draws the curtain and enters
the room. Her voice is sv^eet and gentle, and her
movements graceful and refined. She carries
some school-books, an ^^ exercise" book, and a
small tray.
Lavender.
^Standing unnoticed — tiviidly.] May I clear
the table, please ?
Dick.
\_Tuming in his chair.] Hallo !
Clement.
[Jumping up.] Good gracious ! We thought
you were Jenks.
Lavender.
[Taking a little crumpled note from her pocket.]
Jenks has just left this note downstairs, Mr. Hale.
Clement.
[Reading.] " Henry Jenks presents his respect-
ful compliments, but I am not coming any more
has I — " H'm. Hand that to Mr. Phenyl, Lav-
ender.
[Lavender gives the note to Dick.
SWEET LA VENDER 3>
Dick.
\^Reading.'] " I am not coming any more has I
can't stand the carryings on of that awful Mr.
Phenyl." [^Indignantly.'] Well — I —
\_He screws up the note vindictively and throws
it into the fire ; then turning, he sees Lav-
ender and Clement close together.
Lavender.
[Giving the books to Clement, reluctantly.'] You
won't look at my exercise till I've cleared the
breakfast table and gone right out of sight, will
you ?
Clement.
Why?
Lavender.
It's so blotty.
Dick.
[Fidgeting. ] H'm ! Clement, my boy ! [Admon-
ishing Clement by waving his pipe.]
[Lavender goes to the bi-eakfast table and
begins removing the things.
Clement.
[Angrily.] Don't interfere, Dick.
Dick.
Thank you, Mr. Hale. [Stalking away indig-
nantly.
Clement.
[To himself.] Confound Dick's cynicism. How
32 SWEET LAVENDER
sweet she is. \To Lavender.] May I help in
some way ? \He takes up the teapot.
Lavender.
No, thank you. [^Taking the teapot from Clem-
ent and looking at hit empti/ plate.'\ Poor Mr.
Phenyl hasn't eaten any breakfast.
Clement.
Ah, poor Mr. Phenyl.
\_She carries some of the breakfast things
out into the passage and puts them on
the butler^s tray. Clement hesitates a
moment, then snatches up an egg-cup
and goes after her.
Dick.
[^Looking roitnd.^ Where, where? [Going to
the curtained ojyening.] Ah, Clement, my boy.
[Clement returns to the room, glaring at
Dick, a7id stands sulkily before the fire.
Lavender goes on clearing the table.
Dick throws himself on the sofa, opens
the newspaper, and eyes Clement and
Lavender /?'07?i behind it.
Clement,
Do you know that your books are to be closed,
Lavender ?
Lavender.
\Starting.'\ My books !
SWEET LAVENDER 33
Clement.
Pounds, shillings, and pence are to be withdrawn
from your mental banking account; the intricate
verb will torture you no longer ; and the mountains
of this world will have to settle their relative height
amongst themselves.
Lavendeb.
[Falter ingly.'] I was afraid I was becoming too
troublesome to you, Mr. Hale.
Clement.
INIy dear child, it's not my doing, but Doctor
Delaney's.
Lavender.
Oh, how cruel ! He doesn't know how ignorant
and stupid I am !
[She returns to the passage in tears.
Clement.
[Savagely to Dick.] There !
Dick.
Think of your health, Lavvy. Health should be
the first consideration with us all.
[Lavender returns, wiping her eyes, to brush
away the crximbs.
Clement.
But I've a capital notion. If you may not read,
there's nothing to prevent your being read to.
34 SWEET LAVENDER
Dick.
Eh?
Clement.
And so, Lavender, every evening for a couple of
hours I'll grind out some sound instructive work
and you shall sit and listen to me.
Lavender.
[^Gratefully. 'I Oh, Mr. Hale ! how good you are !
Clement.
I'll lay in a stock of books this morning. We'll
begin on " Frederick the Great," by Carlyle.
Dick.
Twenty-one volumes !
[Lavender having cleared the table, now
revioves the white cloth and begins to
fold it.
Clement.
[Advancing. "] Allow me ?
Lavender.
Thank you, Mr. Hale.
[Clement takes an end of the tablecloth
opposite Lavender. Dick savagely
screws the paper into a ball and flings
it away. There is a sharp rat-tat-tat
at the outer door.
Dick.
[Taking Lavender's end of the tablecloth from
her.'] Go to the door, Lavvy.
SWEET LA VENDER 35
^Clement folds the cloth angrily with
Dick. Lavender opens the door and
admits Horace Bream, a good-looking,
well-dressed fair-haired young American.
Horace.
\_At the door.'] Thank you — Mr. Hale ? Thank
you. \_Adva'ncing and lookmg from Clement to
Dick.] You'll excuse me, I hope, but being rather
in a hurry — [to Dick] — Hale ?
Dick.
Dropping his end of the tablecloth.'] No — Phenyl !
Horace.
[To Clement.] Mr. Hale, I am perfectly delighted
to make your acquaintance. Permit me to carry
this through with you.
[Placing his hat and stick on the floor, he
picks up the end of the tablecloth and
folds it with Clement, who glares at
him in annoyance. Dick sits on the
sofa, chuckling. Lavender is seen
from time to time in the passage taking
away the breakfast things.
Clement.
Eeally, I haven't the pleasure of —
Horace.
Horace Pinkley Bream.
Clement.
Well, but —
36 SIVEET LAVENDER
Horace.
I have the honour to be a great personal friend
of your aunt, Mrs. Gilfillian, and her daughter
Minnie. \_Warmly.'\ Sir, most charming ladies.
Clement.
Oh, pray sit down.
Horace.
\_Sitting.'\ I'm in a very great hurry.
Clement.
Have you any message from — ?
Horace.
\_Unconcernedly ."] No, sir, I have not.
Clement.
[Commanding himself. ~\ Then would you mind
telling me — ?
Horace.
[Looki7i(/ at his watch.'] Certainly. The fact is,
your party picked me up in Paris two months ago.
Clement.
What party ?
Horace.
Mr. Wedderburn, his sister, Mrs. Gilfillian, and
her daughter. Sir, charming ladies ! From Paris
we travelled to Marseilles ; from Marseilles to
Cannes ; Cannes to Nice. They just stuck to me
right through. l_Looking round.] Sir, I am delighted
with your apartments.
SWEET LAVENDER 37
Clement.
[To himself.} An intrusive table d'hote acquaint-
ance. [To Horace.] You left my friends at Nice,
I presume ?
Horace.
No, sir; we are home.
Clement.
Home !
Horace.
I brought Mrs. Gillillian and her daughter right
through to London yesterday. Charming ladies.
Dick.
[To himself.] Hallo !
Clement.
[Under his breath.'] Confound it !
Horace.
We left Wedderburn in Paris, buying things.
An exceedingly pleasant gentleman.
Clement.
[Distractedly.] And where are Mrs. GilfiUian
and her daughter now ?
Horace.
That's my difficulty — where ? I lost 'em at Char-
ing Cross station last night. Having heard them
frequently talk about you, I dug up your old apart-
ments in Pear Tree Court, where I found your notice
of removal. You have not seen Mrs. GilfiUian yet ?
38 SWEET LA VENDER
Clement.
No, sir.
Horace.
Thank you ; good morning. [Presenting a card
to Clement.] You have not been on our side,
probably ?
Clement.
No.
Horace.
Sir, you'll just love N'York. \^ Shaking hands
with Clement wann.ly.~\ I regret that I am rather
in a hurry. [^Handing a card to Dick, and shaking
hands.~\ Sir, good morning. You'll hear from me the
very moment I've discovered these charming ladies.
Clement.
But pardon my putting it so plainly, perhaps
they don't want you to discover them.
Horace.
\_Looking at his watch.'] Sorry I can't discuss that
question just now. I'm rather in a hurry.
[He goes out quickly.
Dick.
Clement, my boy ! Mrs. Gilfillian and her daugh-
ter are in London ! The hand of Fate !
Clement.
[ With determination.'] I shall be happy to see
them, Dick, and to shake the hand of Fate. If I'm
not in when they call, sa}^ I'll be back in half-an-hour.
SWEET LAVENDER 39
Dick.
I don't like your look, Clem. What are you
going to do ?
Clement.
Do, Dick ! I am going out to buy " Frederick
the Great," by Carlyle.
\He goes into his bedroom. Lavender
appears in the passage.
Dick.
\^Calling after Clement.] Leave my chambers to-
day ! I've done with you ! [To himself.'] If Kuth
could only afford to send little Lavvy away for the
benefit of her health, what a solution it would be.
I think I could contrive it if I had a few pounds to
spare. But if I had a few pounds to spare, I couldn't
spare 'em. Lavender ! [Lavender takes the folded
tablecloth from the table and puts it away in the side-
board.'] [Thinking.] Cripps has a fellow reading
with him who wants to buy a little library. \_Looking
towards the bookshelves.] There's my little library ;
the last remainder of the time when, if Cripps's pupil
is good for fifteen pounds, I'll lend 'em to Ruth Rolt,
and Lavvy shall leave town. \_Eyeing Lavender.]
Brighton into fifteen quid won't go. Broadstairs
into fifteen quid, four weeks and one day over,
[Shaking his fist at the books.'] Come on ! [Taking
down the books, savagely.] I'D. teach you to remind
me of the time when I was a promising lad like
Cripps's pupil !
Lavender.
[Watching him in surjrrise.] May I help you,
Mr. Phenyl ?
40 SWEET LAVENDER
[Dick drops a book and looks guUtily at
Lavender.
Dick.
For sale, Lavvy — library of Richard Phenyl,
Esquire, of the Inner Temple, Barrister-at-law —
fifty volumes.
Lavender.
\^Sympathetically.'] Oh ! \_Laying her hand on his
arm.'} Must you ?
Dick.
\_IIesitatmgly.'] Well — I — [^Looking at Lav-
ender, then towards Clement's door — stroking her
hair.} I think I'd better, Lavvy.
Lavender.
Poor Mr. Phenyl ! Shall I hand you the books ?
Dick.
[To himself.} She makes me feel guilty. \_Ten-
derly.} Lavvy, if your mother could afford it,
would you like three or four weeks in the country ?
Lavender.
Oh, no !
Dick.
[SharplT/.} No ?
\_She hands him volume after volume, from
the bookcase; after looking at the title-
pages he throws them on to the floor.
Lavender.
The temple is the country — we have trees and
grass, and birds and flowers.
SWEET LA VENDER 4I
Dick.
Seaside, then ?
Lavender.
No, we have a river with boats on it.
Dick.
Pooh, Lavvy! Think of fresh air, fresh eggs,
fresh milk from the cow. We are all apt to under-
rate the importance of milk from the cow.
Lavender.
No. I'm happy here — so happy !
Dick.
[ To himself.'] Thinking of him ! — Thinking of
him !
Lavender.
Why do you look at the title-pages ?
Dick.
I'm sorting my property from the other young
gentleman's, Mr. Hale's.
Lavender.
\_Eagerly.'] Oh, let me do it ! I'll look for Mr.
Hale's name ! I'll take care you don't sell any of
his. May I ?
DlOK.
Very well, Lavvy.
\_She takes a quantity of hooks from the
shelves, places them on the ground and
kneels amongst them,.
43 SWEET LAVENDER
Dick.
[To himself.'] It's like setting her to sign her
own death-warrant. Cripps is in court to-day in
the Baxter case ; I'll run over and see him. [^He
goes qulcklij to the outer door, opens it, then returns,
leaving the door slightly open.] Going out without
dressing ! I'm upset — feel I'm doing a mean thing.
\_Looking towards Lavender — tearfully.'] Poor
Clem — poor Lavvy !
[He goes into his bedroom. Lavender
examines the books and makes a neat
pile of them as she hums a song happily.
Ci.EMENT, fashionably dressed for walk-
ing, enters, unheard by Lavender, and
watches her.
Clement.
[To himself] She makes a room seem like a
garden.
Lavender.
[^Taking up a book.] "Smith's Leading Cases."
[^Opening it.] Looks rather dry — no conversation.
[She puts it aside.
Clement.
\^To himself] Why should I hold my tongue ?
[He silently draws the curtain over the open-
ing, withotct noticing that the door leading
on to tlie outer passage is open.
Lavender.
[Taking up another book.] "Benjamin on Sales."
Biblical. Richard PhenyL
SWEET LA VENDER 43
[Clement goes to Dick's door^ listens, and
then quietly turns the key.
Lavender,
[With another book.l ''Williams on the Law of
Real Property." Clement Hale. Ah ! [She opens
the middle of the hook.'] "Incorporeal Heredita-
ments." What a beautiful book !
[She settles herself a little nearer the tvindow
and reads earnestly. Clement comes
and sits upon the pile of books beside her.
Clement.
[^Softly.] Lavender.
[ With a low cry of fright she turns slowly and
looks at him.
Lavender.
What are you doing there, Mr. Hale ?
Clement.
I've come to sit with you in the garden.
Lavender.
The garden !
[Staring at him, she tries to rise; hestretch.es
out his hand and takes hers.
Lavender.
[ Under her breath.'] Mr. Hale I
44 SWEET LAVENDER
Clement.
[Drawing her down near him, and looking into her
face earnestly.'] I love you Lavender, with all my
heart. Will you be my wife ?
\_She shrinks away, still staring at him,
Clement.
Speak to me. You don't mean no !
Lavender.
[Faintly.'] I don't know what I mean.
Clement.
[Tenderly.] Think about it. Think about it —
here.
[He gently draws her to him and clasps her
in his arms.
Lavender.
[Half crying.'] You — you oughtn't to love me !
Clement.
Why?
Lavender.
You know, I'm not — a lady.
Clement.
My dear Princess.
Lavender.
I work. Ah, how red my hands are !
SWEET LA VENDER 45
Clement.
Because your blushes run down into them. When
you're accustomed to being my wife, they'll grow
quite white.
Lavender.
But look at me — my frocks can't keep secrets
if I can ; I'm very poor.
Clement.
I'll be poor with you, if it comes to that.
Lavender.
\_Looking up into his face.~\ Are you poor?
Clement.
I've nothing — of my own — but my profession,
\_Thoiight fully.'] I may become very poor.
Lavender.
[^Rising quickly.'] Oh !
Clement.
{^Retreating a little.'] Do you like me less for that?
Lavender.
{Going towards him. ~\ Less! {Checking herself .]
I — I haven't said I like you at all, but if I ever
did like you, it would be because I know how to
be poor, and could teach you the way to bear it.
Clement.
{IhroAving her to him.] My sweet, sweet Lavender !
46 SWEET LA VENDER
Lavender.
\In a whisper-l Clement. You know how pale
I've been looking lately.
Clement.
Yes ! that's why I asked Delaney to call.
Lavender.
Foolish boy ! I shall have red cheeks to-morrow.
I — I've been thinking so much about you, Clement.
Clement.
\_Laughing.'] Lavender !
Lavender.
Ah, don't laugh at me !
[_Sh6 sits ujjon the sofa, hiding her face. He
goes to her and kneels by her side.
Clement.
Why were you sitting amongst those books ?
Lavender.
Mr. Phenyl is obliged to sell them.
Clement.
He sha'n't do anything of the kind. We'll stick
to old Dick, won't we ?
Lavender.
Always. And we won't let mother work any
more, will we ?
Never.
[^Happily. '\ Ah !
SWEET LA VENDER 47
Clement.
Lavender.
Clement.
Tell me again you love me.
Lavender.
I never will. You make me say things and then
you laugh at me. [Bending her head to /m.] I
love you.
The curtain over the doorway is pushed aside, and
Mrs. Gilfillian enters followed by Minnie.
Mrs. Gilfillian is a sedate aristocratic-looking
woman about fifty, with a lofty forehead and
side curls. Minnie is a handsome, lively young
woman. Both are fashionably dressed. On dis-
covering Clement at Lavender's feet Mrs.
Gilfillian clutches Minnie by the arm, and
takes her otit ; Clement and Lavender luith
their heads close together being unconscious of
interruption. There is then a loud rat-tat-tat
at the outer door. Clement and Lavender
rise quickly, she dropping among the books,
while he goes and draws the curtain and discov-
ers Mrs. Gilfillian and Minnie.
Clement.
My dear aunt.
Mrs. Gilfillian enters the room followed by Minnie.
]\rRS. Gilfillian.
[^Much disturbed, giving Clement two fingers.']
48 SWEET LAVENDER
We found your door open, Clement, but I preferred
knocking.
Clement.
[^Unhappily.'] Delighted, aunt.
[Mrs. Gilfillian ivalks straight across to
Lavender, looking down upon her
through her pince-nez,
Clement.
[To Minnie.] Minnie.
Minnie.
[Demurely.] Well, Clem.
Clement.
[Hesitatingly.] This is a jolly surprise.
Minnie.
[Looking at Lavender.] 'M — yes.
[Lavender having pushed the books out of
the way, goes out of the rooin, Mrs. Gil-
FiLLiAN looking after her. Minnie takes
up one of the books, looking at it inquisi-
tively.
Clement.
Those are the books we slave at, Minnie.
Minnie.
[Glancing at him, shyly.] Don't you overdo it,
Clem.
SWEET LAVENDER 49
Mrs. Gilfillian.
[^Looking after Lavender.] That's a wicked
young woman !
\_She shuts the door, and joins Clement,
as Minnie looks rou7id the room.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
We left Nice on Tuesday, Clement. Minnie and
I came straight through, but Mr. Wedderburn pre-
fers to dawdle for a week in Paris. \_Handing
Clement a packet of cahlnet photographs.'^ He sends
you those portraits, done by Grotz of Monte Carlo.
[^Nervously.'] Minnie, don't pry.
Clement.
[^Looking at the photographs.'] Dear old guv'nor !
[^Reading the siq^erscription on one of the portraits. ~\
" For my boy — from Geoffrey Wedderburn." [To
Mrs. Gilfillian.] The fact is, aunt, I've already
heard of your return from a gentleman who was
good enough to call on me.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Not Mr. Bream !
Clement.
Horace Pinkley Bream !
Mrs. Gilfillian.
\_Sinking into armchair.'] Oh !
Minnie.
[^Sitting on sofa.] Oh, ma !
50 SJVEET LAVENDER
Mrs. Gilfillian.
We shall never shake him off. He saved Minnie's
life in Paris by pulling her from under a tramcar
in the Avenue Mirabeau.
Clement.
Good gracious !
Mrs, Gilfillian.
So careless of her to get there ! I closed my
eyes and in imagination heard the cracking of her
bones. This person rushed forward and restored
her to the side-walk, as he will persist in calling the
pavement.
Clement.
I should like to thank him.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Don't ! He'll never leave you if you do. I
thanked him — although he's not at all the young
man I would have selected to rescue a child of mine.
Clement.
[ Uneasily.'] In London for long, aunt ?
Mrs. Gilfillian.
The season. We have rooms at the Metropole,
but we shall eat at these new coffee establishments
in Regent Street. Oh, will you oblige me by tak-
ing a shilling cab to the hotel, and asking my maid,
Bodly, for my vinaigrette ?
Clement.
Certainly.
\_H6 lays the photographs on the table and
takes up his hat and umbrella.
SWEET LAVENDER 51
Mrs. Gilfillian.
You lunch here ?
Clement.
It's sent in at one o'clock.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
We could remain, if —
Clement.
\Blanklyr\ Delighted.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
\To herself.'] He must never be left again.
Clement.
\_Banging his hat on his head.] Confound !
[^He goes o^it. Mrs. Gilfillian looks to
see that the door is closed, then rises, and
crosses to Minnie.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
[ With a gasp.] Minnie, my poor child ! You
saw that young woman ?
Minnie.
I'm afraid I did, mamma.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
What were they doing ? I have never felt my
near sight so keenly.
Minnie.
Clement was kneeling, mamma — in an ordinary
way. And I think he was holding her hand.
$2 SWEET LAVENDER
Mks. Gilfillian.
Ah, I saw that !
Minnie.
And she was looking down — in an ordinary way.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
\_Pacing to and fro. '\ In the very room, in which
we are asked to take luncheon.
Minnie.
Don't be cross, ma, dear. She is very pretty and
innocent-looking.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Innocent-looking ! Do you think I will have my
plans — my plans and my brother's — frustrated
by a girl with ulterior motives and eyes like
saucers ?
Minnie.
Look here, ma, darling. Clement is grown up
now and may do just as he pleases. I am quite
fond of Clem, always was, and if he asked me to be
his wife — well, I should want to know all about
that young woman. But I don't care a pin for
Uncle Geoifrey's plans, and if Clem doesn't take to
me — as I'm sure he ought to — why, bless him,
I'll be his wife's bridesmaid and her friend into the
bargain.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
{^Indignantly.'] Minnie ! [^Suddenly.'] Hush !
\_The handle of the door of Dick's room, is
rattled froin the inside.
SWEET LA VENDER 53
Mrs. Gilfillian.
[ With horror.^ Minnie ! There's somebody else
in that room !
Minnie.
\_Retr eating.'] Oh, ma !
Mrs. Gilfillian.
And this is the Law !
Dick.
IFrom within.] Clement! Clement!
Mrs. Gilfillian.
[Listeyiing.] It's a man's voice — or a deep con-
tralto.
Dick.
\_Still within.] Locked in, Clement, my boy.
[Mrs. Gilfillian txirns the key in the door,
and retreats. Dick enters in the old and
worn tvig and gown of a barrister.
Dick.
Thank you. \_Enquiringly.] To see Mr. Hale ?
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Oh, I have seen Mr. Hale. May I ask — ?
Dick.
Richard Phenyl. Hale and I live together.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
[^Eagerly.] Dear me ! I wish to speak to you
54 SWEET LAVENDER
immediately. Mrs. GilfiUian. [^Introducing Min-
nie.] My daughter.
[Minnie laughs behind her handkerchief
at Dick's appearance.
Dick.
[Politely.'] Heard of you.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
[Quietly to Minnie.] Go away. Go away ! Per-
haps this gentleman will allow you to try the piano.
E Minnie, tvith a toss of the head goes to the piano.]
To Dick.] Mr. Funnel, I have just received a
great shock. [Minnie plays a sentimental air.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Who is the young woman who frequents these
rooms ?
Dick.
Young woman ?
Mrs. Gilfillian.
We came in suddenly. A girl was seated on that
sofa. Ugh ! Clement was on his knees before her,
Mr. Funnel.
Dick.
[To himself?^ He's done it ! He's done it I
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Minnie got me away somehow, unheard by either
SWEET LAVENDER 55
of them ! But my poor child. Mr. Funnel — [tear-
fully] — the blow has fallen there.
[Minnie strikes in suddenly with a very lively
air.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Minnie !
[Minnie stops playing, and Mrs. Gilfillian
goes to her remonstrating.
Dick.
[To himself.] We're in for it. We've made our
choice. We prefer linsey and a linen collar to satin
and Valenciennes. Very well ! Now it's come to
it, I'll stick to you, Clement, my boy ! [Arranging
his wig and gown, and striking a forensic attitude.']
For the defendant !
Mrs. Gilfillian.
[Returning to Dick.] What you tell me is in
perfect coniidence.
Dick.
Not at all necessary, m'm — we court inquiry.
The young lady is the daughter of Mrs. Rolt, who
resides, to put it plainly, in the basement.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
A low woman ?
Dick.
[Pointing downwards.] Geographically — not
otherwise. [Minnie resumes playing softly.
56 SWEET LAVENDER
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Nonsense, sir. These people attend upon you.
This girl's mother is what you call a common ser-
vant.
Dtck.
No, ma'am — she is what I call a lady.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
A lady ?
Dick.
Madam, Mrs. Rolt has been a kind, faithful friend
to me for fifteen years. If I have the privilege of
knowing you for that length of time nothing will
induce me to speak ill of you.
Ruth enters, and stands in the opening to passage.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
I'll see Mrs. Rolt at once. Kindly ring the bell.
[Dick moves towards the hell-handle and sees
Ruth.
Dick.
Here is Mrs. Rolt.
Ruth.
[Announcing.'] Mr. Bream, please.
Horace enters quickly ; Dick speaks to Ruth.
Horace.
[With outstretched hands.] My dear Mrs. Gilfil-
lian ! [Minnie stops playing suddenly, and rises.
SIVEET LAVENDER 57
Minnie.
Oh!
Mrs. Gilfillian.
[Jti constei-natioji.'] Mr. Bream !
Horace.
\_Excitedly.'\ Lost you at the Custom House
counter last night — saw you in a hansom this morn-
ing — never meant to rest till I'd found you.
[Horace goes to Minnie.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
[^Helplessly sinking into a chair.'] Oh, dear me !
Horace.
[To Minnie, taking her hand.'] My dear Miss
Gilfillian !
Minnie.
[Distractedly.] Oh, how do you do, Mr. Bream ?
Ruth.
[Quietly to Mrs. Gilfillian.] You wish to
speak to me, ma'am ?
Mrs. Gilfillian.
[Rising.] Mrs. Rolt !
Ruth.
Yes.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
I have discovered that there have been — some
— love passages between Mr. Hale and your
daughter. I — I —
58 SWEET LAVENDER
Ruth.
Yes. My daughter has just told me that Mr.
Hale has offered her marriage.
Mks. Gilfillian.
Marriage. \^Checking herself ."] Don't you under-
stand that this is a terrible shock to Mr. Hale's
friends ?
Ruth.
\_Tearfully.'] I understand that it is a terrible
shock to me to lose my child.
[Ruth Uirns away, and leans faintly on
the hack of a chair.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
To lose your child. I see. [To herself] It's
serious ; I'll telegraph at once to brother Geoffrey.
[Mrs. Gilfillian seats herself at writ-
ing table and begins writing rapidly.
Ruth's eye falls upoji the photographs
lying on table ; she stares at them for a
moment blankly.
Ruth.
[^Commanding herself — going a step or two towards
Dick.] Mr. Phenyl. [Pointing to the j^hotograph.]
Who — who is that ?
Dick.
Mr. Wedderburn, I think.
Ruth.
[With a start.'] Wedderburn!
SWEET LAVENDER 59
Dick.
Banker at Barnchester — Mr. Hale is his adopted
son.
Ruth.
In — indeed. \_After a pause she goes quickly to
Mrs. GiLFiLLiAN, an<:^^rAt5/^era.] Madam! Madam!
[Mrs. Gilfillian turns.'\ You — you have mis-
understood me. I — I give you my word my
daughter shall never marry Mr. Hale.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
[Rising, with the written telegram in her hand.']
What!
Ruth.
[^Glancing roinid.'] Hush I
[Lavender enters the passage, and takes
up the tray from the hutler''s stand.
Gij'e.ta.Yj'st follows and stands ivhispering
to her. Minnie and Horace are in
close conversation.
8ND OF THE FIRST ACT.
THE SECOND ACT
The scene is the same as in the first act. A day has
jnissed and it is now evening.
Dick, looking somewhat neater than hefore, is sitting
in an armchair, s7noking his jyij^e thoughtfully.
Ruth enters quietly, carrying a tray with tea-
things, and a letter.
EUTH.
A cab has just brought this letter for Mr. Hale.
I'll place it here.
\^She lays the letter on one of the teacups ;
Dick rises and inteixepts her as she is
going out.
Dick.
How's Lavvy to-night — any better?
Ruth.
\_TremhUngbj.'] N — no — No better.
Clement, in walking dress, and carrying a hand-
some basket of floivers, enters hurriedly.
60
SWEET LA VENDER 6i
Clement.
Any good news, Dick ?
Dick.
[ With a grunt.'] No.
[Dick walks to and fro moodily.
Clement.
How is she, Mrs. Kolt ?
Ruth.
I fear just the same.'
Clement.
May I not see her for a moment — call to her at
her door ? I'll be quiet enough.
E-UTH.
No, no — not yet.
Clement.
Not yet, Mrs. Rolt. Still not yet Oh, you
mothers !
Ruth.
\_Bitterly.'\ Oh — we mothers !
Clement.
\^Handing her the basket of flowers.'] Give her
these flowers with ray — Say I — You know.
\_He drops disconsolately into the armchair.
Ruth.
\_Calmly.'] Thank you. They are very beautiful.
\_She goes out ; Clement then rises impa-
tiently.
62 SWEET LA VENDER
Clement.
Dick, Dick !
Dick.
Clement !
Clement.
The idea tortures me that something is being
kept from us ! By Mrs. Roll's manner there's a
mystery, Dick !
Dick.
You're right, Clement, my boy. By some inde-
finable instinct 1 feel we are being done, sir !
[Dick hurls his pipe furiously into the grate,
and sits in the armchair.
Clement.
Lavender loves me — I'll never doubt that.
Dick.
Oh, she loves us right enough — we needn't dis-
tress ourselves on that score.
Clement.
But this illness ! " I shall have red cheeks to-
morrow," she said, Dick — meaning that she was
well and happy ; and then, an hour afterwards —
ill ! Too ill to be seen, too ill to send me a word
of comfort. Last night — worse. This morning —
worse. To-night — no better. Dick, it's unendur-
able.
Dick.
\_Rising with judicial solemnity, and warming
himself by the fire.'] Well, you know, Clement,
SWEET LA VENDER 63
my boy, we may be unduly distressing ourselves —
I say ourselves, because in this case Mr. Eichard
Phenyl is with you.
Clement.
Bless you, Dick !
Dick.
We should remember that we are youngsters at
this sort of game ; that this is, in point of fact, the
first time we have offered ourselves in marriage.
For all we know, the prospect of an alliance with
us would set up a condition of cerebral excitement
in any young lady. [^Taking up the poker to aid
him in his argument.'] No, no, Clement, my boy,
it isn't Lavvy's illness that puzzles me —
Clement.
What then, Dick ?
Dick.
Why, the sudden, self-satisfied affability of our
aunt, Mrs. Gilfilliau.
Clement.
Ah!
Dick.
^Flourishing the poker.] There's an unpleasant
air of truculent triumph in our aunt's demeanour
that I resent, Clement, my boy !
Clement.
And I too, Dick ! And the incessant civility
and attention I'm in duty bound to show Mrs.
GilfiUian drives me mad. Good gracious, Dick !
she and Minnie never leave me for a moment !
64 SWEET LA VENDER
Dick.
Our aunt is undoubtedly a barnacle, Clement,
my boy.
Clement.
They lunched here yesterday — you know.
Dick.
/ know.
Clement.
Afterwards dragging me to the Park for two
hours in a ridiculous hired landau, and ending by
carrying me off to a classical concert in the evening.
Dick.
I feel for you, Clement, though I was at a smok-
ing concert myself last night.
Clement.
This morning, didn't they breakfast with us ?
Dick.
Our forthcoming weekly bill will testify that
they did !
Clement.
Then we went shopping in Bond Street, asked
the price of everything, and had little cold veal
pies for luncheon at a ladies' confectioners.
Dick.
\With a wry face.'] Oh, don't, Clem, don't I
Clement.
After that we visited picture galleries, till I lost
all patience, declared I was neglecting my studies
SWEET LAVENDER 65
and rushed away to buy a few flowers for my dear
one.
Dick.
Well, Clem, perhaps it enables you to forget for a
minute or two the poor little sick girl downstairs.
Clement.
Ah, Dick, that's unworthy of you ! Why, every
street to me is " Lavender Street ; " the newsboys
shout nothing but " Lavender ! " "Evening Laven-
der!" and the flower girls sell only sweet Lavender
from their baskets. The whole world is perfumed
with Lavender ; and yet she and I seem so far apart.
Dick — so very far apart.
\_There is a rat-tat at the outer door.
Dick.
A visitor. Can it be our aunt ?
Clement.
{^Wearily.'] Open the door, Dick, like a good
fellow.
[Dick opens the door^ Minnie is outside.
Dick.
Miss Gilfillian !
Minnie.
Yes. May I see Clement, Mr. Phenyl ?
Dick.
I don't wish to dazzle you. Miss Gilfillian, but you
may see both of us. Come in.
66 SWEET LAVENDER
Minnie enters. She is handsomely dressed for the
theatre.
Clement.
Why, Minnie ! Are you alone ?
Minnie.
Don't scold me, Clem. {^Quietly to him.'] I've
something I must say to you in secret.
Clement.
But where's aunt ?
Minnie.
[^Laughing.'] I've given poor mamma what we
children used to call the slip.
Dick.
Ah! [With a chuckle.'] Ha! ha! [Minnie
turns to Dick, he pokes thejire.] I beg your pardon.
[Clement assists Minnie to take off her cloak.
Minnie.
I'm afraid you're dreadfully shocked, Mr. Phenyl.
Dick.
No — no.
Minnie.
While mamma was dressing for the theatre I
stole away in a hansom. I've left a note for her on
my table. [Laughing.] Ha, ha !
SWEET LAVENDER 67
Dick.
[Joining in the laugh.'\ Ha, ha!
Minnie.
[Suddenly serious.'] It's awfully wrong.
Dick.
[Seriousli/.] Yes, it'll vex our aunt — Mrs. Gil-
fillian.
Minnie.
[To Clement.] But mamma will call for us here
at naif-past eight, Clem dear.
Clement.
For us?
Minnie.
Why, haven't you received her letter ?
Dick.
Dear me, quite forgot — letter for you somewhere,
Clem. [Arra7iging the armchair for M-iimiiE.] Miss
Gilfillian, toss for the armchair. I mean, try the
armchair.
[Clement /i /id's the letter on the teacup and
opens it.
Clement.
[Reading the letter disconsolately. 1 "We have a
box for four persons for the Cabinet Theatre to wit-
ness the new play about which people talk so much
— ' The Sealskin Jacket.' I hear it described as a
salutary lesson to young men. We shall fetch you
68 SIVEET LAVENDER
at half-past eight." [^Quietly to DicK.l^ Dick! I'm
getting desperate!
Dick.
[ Under his breath, grasping Clement's hand.']
Bear up. We must continue to hold a candle to —
to aunt.
Clement.
Why shouldn't you join us, and help me through
the evening ? The box holds four.
Dick.
I know. Our aunt spread out in front and the
rest looking at her hair-pins. No.
Clement.
Dick, you're unkind.
Dick.
Unkind ! \_In a whisper.] Clement, my boy,
have you seen my evening clothes ?
Clement.
No, Dick.
Dick.
Thought not. The coat and waistcoat are in fair
preservation, but the rest of it has been attending
funerals for years.
Minnie.
[^Tapping her foot impatiently.'] Clement!
Clement.
I beg your pardon, Minnie.
SWEET LAVENDER 6f>
[Minnie eyes Dick, and looks at Clement
significantly.
Minnie.
[In an undertone.'] Clement — Mr. Phenyl !
Clement.
Oh ! yes. \_Trying to attract Dick's attention.']
Dick!
Dick.
[Sitting at table.] No, no.
Clement.
Dick!
Dick.
Rather busy to-night, Clement, my boy.
[Clement Tnakes signs to Dick to depart,
while Dick, thinking that Clement is
renewing his persuasions with regard to
the theatre, shakes his head.
Clement.
[Impatiently.] Dick! [Whispers to him.
Dick.
Oh ! [Shakiiig Clement's hand.] My dear
Clement !
[He snatches up a book from the sofa, a
newspaper from the table, and a pipe and
tobacco jar from the mantelpiece, and goes
to the, door of his own room.
70 SWEET LA VENDER
Dick.
\_Innocently.'] Can you spare me for ten minutes,
Clement ?
Clement.
Certainly, Dick.
Dick.
Thank you.
[jffe goes into his room. Minnie watches to
see the door close, then lays her hand upon
Clement's arm.
Minnie.
[^Softly. 1 Clem, dear, I've come to see you alone
because I must put myself right with you.
Clement.
Isn't it I who should put myself right with you,
Minnie ?
Minnie.
Don't be polite, Clem ; and unless you tell me
you hate me I shall cease to respect you.
Clement.
Hate you !
Minnie.
Why, look how mamma and I torture you all
day by carrying you about with us ! Aren't you in
agony, sir, the whole time ? What do you think
you looked like this afternoon in Macnab's picture
gallery in the Haymarket ?
Clement.
I — I was so horribly anxious, Minnie, about —
SWEET LAVENDER 71
Minnie.
About your studies. Come, Clem. \_She takes
his hand and places him, on the sofa, then sits on the
head of the sofa looking down \ipon Aim. J Let us
be fogies for a moment. You know we were very
fond of each other as children, weren't we ?
Clement.
Yes, Minnie, and —
Minnie.
Hush ! Well, then, dear, as we grew up we grew
out of our love, as boys and girls outgrow their
clothes. Your love, as it were, got too short in
the waist, and mine wouldn't meet at the buttons.
And, at last, one fine day we yawned, Clem, and
the seams of our affection collapsed,
Clement.
\Taking her hand, embarrassed.'] My dear
Minnie —
Minnie.
[Sitting beside him.'] Ah, Clem, don't let us
mourn for it ; we're lucky to have yawned in time,
dear. And so I want you to understand that I
won't help to mend and patch an old attachment ;
/won't put an extra flounce or a new set of hooks
and eyes on a garment a couple of children wore to
rags years ago. There ! That's what I call putting
myself right with you.
Clement.
[^Tenderly — taking her hands.] My dear sister,
how compassionate you are to me I
72 SWEET LAVENDER
Minnie.
\_Smillng.'\ And so you were on with the new love
before you were off with the old — you bad boy !
Clement.
I — I can't help loving her, Minnie.
Minnie.
And you're quite sure there's plenty of devotion
turned up at the edge, in case you haven't done
growing ?
Clement.
Ah, Minnie, I'm not so bad as that !
Minnie.
I've no faith in you — monster. But, Clem, I'm
dreadfully afraid mamma still thinks we shall make
a match of it. '[^Laughingly.'] Whenever mamma
is triumphant her curls are always rigid, and to-day
they're like little telescopes.
Clement.
\_Angrily.'] Whatever happens, Minnie, I resent
aunt's interference. I am a man now !
Minnie.
Oh, yes, anybody can see that by the way you
jilt people. But, Clem, dear, I wish you'd do some-
thing to please me.
Clement.
I'll do anything !
SWEET LAVENDER 73
Minnie.
Anything but marry me. Well, don't wait for
Uncle Geoffrey's return, but write to him to the
Hotel Rivoli in Paris, and tell him how you adore
— my hated rival. Uncle Geof. is a bachelor, but
married men and bachelors are manufactured by the
same process — love, Clem — and he'll understand.
Tell him all, and say that the girl you have lost
your treacherous heart to has won one staunch
friend — Minnie Gilfillian.
Clement.
My dear sister, I'll write directly I get back from
the theatre. \_Putting his hand to his breast.'] Shall
I send him her portrait ?
Minnie.
[Pointing.'] You've got one there !
Clement.
How did you guess ?
Minnie.
You silly boy ? Show it me.
\_She sits in the armchair; he takes a small
photograph from his pocket and hands
it to her.
Minnie.
[Leaning back scrutinising the portrait with a great
air of indifference.] So this is the little lady I
saw yesterday, in her best frock, is it ?
Clement.
Yes, I stole it from Dick Phenyl's album.
74 SWEET LAVENDER
Minnie.
A thief as well as a heart-breaker. And you con-
sider her really pretty ?
Clement.
Say what you think, Minnie — I don't mind.
Minnie.
Why she has only two eyes, as I have ; and one
nose and mouth just like me. Now, I wonder why
you jilted me for Lavender ?
Clement.
You're only teasing me, aren't you ?
Minnie.
Oh ! I don't condescend to tease bad men. And
what a very Uttle girl she is. I see, it's economy ;
when you're married you'll only keep a goat chaise.
\_Returni71g the photo.'] She can't weigh much, Clem,
Clement.
Less than my heart does to-night, Minnie. She
is ill — suffering.
Minnie.
\_Compassionately.'] Poor boy! She'll be well
to-morrow.
Clement.
If anything happened to part us, Minnie! If
I lost her !
Minnie.
Hush, Clem ! \_Taking his hand.'] I'll tell you.
SWEET LA VENDER 75
When a girl knows she is loved by the man she loves
she has a charmed life — her heart carCt stop. If
ever the elixir vifce is discovered, Clem, it'll turn
out to be a bottle of something to keep a man and
a woman in love with each other. There, run along
and put its pretty things on for the theatre !
[^e kisses her hand, and goes into his bedroom.
Minnie.
[^Seeing the tea-thi7igs.~\ Tea ! \_Putting her hand
on the teapot.'] Hot ! I must take to tea violently,
now I'm going to be an old maid. To-morrow I'll
buy a kitten. [There is a rat-tat at the outer door.']
Mamma ! What a scolding's in store for me ! Oh,
dear!
[_She goes to the door and opens it. Horace
Bream is outside ; he is in evening dress,
and carries a cane.
Horace.
Mr. Hale ?
Minnie.
\_Startled.] Oh ! [She leaves the door in a flut-
ter.'] Horace Bream ! How awkward !
[Horace closes the door and follows her into
the room.
Horace.
My dear Miss Gilfillian !
Minnie.
[UneasUy.] I daresay you're surprised — *^
76 SWEET LA VENDER
meet — me — here. I — have missed mamma —
somehow. Perhaps you will call again.
Horace,
Very likely. If you remember I was here yes-
terday.
Minnie.
\Ein})arrassed.'\ I mean, Mr. Hale may be quite
ten minutes.
Horace.
I shall be perfectly charmed if he's twenty.
Minnie.
\^Coldhj^ If you decide to wait, Mr. Hale would
like you to sit down, I'm sure.
Horace.
\Boioing.'\ I'm sure he would.
Minnie.
\_Foxntmg to a chair.'] D — don't mind me,
please. \_She turns away abrujMy, and sits at writ-
ing-table with her back towards Horace. To her-
self.'] A man's the last creature to recognise the
possibility of his being de trop.
Horace.
\_Moodily, to himself, as he sits on the arm of the
armchair.] Well, the formality of an unmarried
lady in England is perfectly chilling.
here.
Minnie.
[To herself] What does he think of my being
SWEET LA VENDER 77
Horace.
\To himself .'\ I can't — I can't endure this a
minute longer.
\_He crosses to the sofa, where he sits watching
Minnie.
Minnie.
[To herself. '\ How embarrassing ! I wish I was
buried !
Horace.
[To himself] If this continues for another five
seconds I shall shriek aloud.
Minnie.
I'll put a bold face on the matter — an American
girl would be equal to twice this. [^Looking angrily
at the hack of the armchair, in which she supposes
Horace to be, while he watches her with curiosity.]
Bother ! [Horace rises in surprise, and Minnie,
peeping over the back of the chair, finds it empty and
turns, facing Horace with a gasp.] Oh ! [Zn. con-
fusion.] Pray excuse my having left you for a
moment. Will you have some tea ? [^Sitting.
Horace.
\_Resuming his seat.] I shall be perfectly de-
lighted. [^To himself] In English society while
there is tea there is hope.
Minnie.
Sugar ?
Horace.
Thank you. [Cheerfully to himself] We have
fairly started.
78 SWEET LA VENDER
Minnie.
And milk ?
Horace.
\_After bowing assent.'] We are a perfect Con-
gress.
I\tlNNIE.
[To herself.] I wonder what he wants with Clem.
[To Horace.] So glad you called to consult Mr.
Hale.
Horace.
Consult ?
Minnie.
[Handing him a cup of tea.] He's studying for
the bar, you know. I thought perhaps —
Horace.
Oh, yes, certainly. I require his opinion on a
matter of extreme delicacy.
Minnie.
[Looking away chilled.] Oh !
Horace.
[Watching her over his cup.] Congress has risen.
[Leaning towards her.] Will you permit me to
acquaint you with my delicate business ?
Minnie.
[Very coldly.] Oh, really, Mr. Bream, I — I
think —
Horace.
Miss Gilfillian, you are my delicate business.
SWEET LAVENDER 79
Minnie.
\Rising quickly and haughtily.^ Indeed !
Horace.
[^Contemplating her.] Now, how thorou,?hly
characteristic that is of this old country. [Rising
with his hat and cane.] Miss Gilfillian. [He goes
to her — she moves away. He retreats, carefully
choosing his position by selecting a particular spot in
the pattern of the carpet with the end of his cane.]
Miss Giliilliau, the time I have spent in your so-
ciety and in that of your delightful mother has
been extremely fascinating to me
Minnie.
[Distantly. ] Oh, thank you. [Advancing a step
or two.] I need not say I shall always remember
gratefully the service you rendered me in Paris.
Horace.
Pray don't allude to that. I — [He goes towards
her ; she retreats to her former position. After a
slight pause, he identifies his particular spot on the
carpet and returns to it.] But, Miss Gilfillian, I
cert'nly did hope that those enchanting moments
in Nice and in Monte Carlo, where I had the honour
of instructing you in Trente et Quarante, might be
continued in this — dear old country. And that's
why I'm here to consult my friend Hale.
Minnie.
[Firing up.] Pray, what has Mr. Hale to do
with it ?
8o SWEET LA VENDER
Horace.
Miss Gilfillian, you drove in the park yesterday
— with my friend Hale.
Minnie.
Certainly.
Horace.
I was there — hanging on to the railings. You
were at Cristofaro's concert in the evening — with
my friend Hale.
Minnie.
[Haughtily.'] I was.
Horace.
I was there — half over the balcony.
Minnie.
Eeally — I —
Horace.
This morning you were in and out all the stores
in Bond Street — I was balancing myself on the
curb. You had luncheon at a restaurant in Picca-
dilly, where they sell flies and other candies. It
was there I partook of a last season's ice.
Minnie.
\Losing her temper.'] Oh !
Horace.
I followed to every picture gallery within a mile
of the Burlington, m the dark rooms of which
I had a peaceful time. In fact, Miss Gilfillian, I
have the honour to be always with you.
SWEET LAVENDER 8l
Minnie.
\_Angrily'\. I never see you, sir.
Horace.
I trust I know better than to intrude.
Minnie.
Where do you learn our movements ?
Horace.
At the hotel.
Minnie.
[^Indignantly.'] You present yourself at our
hotel !
Horace.
You are staying at my hotel.
Minnie.
Oh ! On the same floor, I presume.
Horace.
No.
Minnie.
\_Sarcasticalhj.~\ Thank you.
Horace.
I occupy the room immediately beneath your
own.
Minnie.
To listen to my movements !
82 SIVEET LAVENDER
Horace.
To enjoy the consolation of conjecture.
Minnie.
Oh ! I can't tell you how indignant I am !
Horace.
[To himself.'] Well, I never thought a man
could enjoy so much conversation with a young
unmarried lady in this — old country.
Minnie.
Oh ! May I ask where you're going to-night ?
Horace.
I have a stall for the Cabinet Theatre.
[ With a blank look Minnie sinks upon the
sofa.
Minnie.
I shall tell Mr. Hale.
Horace.
Ah, if you will allow me, I will tell Mr. Hale.
I'm here for that purpose. I'm here to ask my
friend Hale whether he's fortunate enough to be
engaged to the most fascinating lady I have ever
known : and if he says Yes, I start for N' York on
Saturday.
Minnie.
\^SorriJied.'\ But if he says No !
SWEET LAVENDER 83
Horace.
Then I shall ask permission to rejoin your most
delightful party.
Minnie.
Oh!
Clement enters, dressed for the theatre.
Clement.
Half-past eight.
[Minnie, much disturbed, runs up to him.
Minnie.
Clement, here is that Mr. Bream.
Clement.
Eh? [^Seeing Horace and nodding distantly.']
How d'ye do ?
[Horace returns Clement's salutation
with a genial wave of the hand.
Horace.
How are you ?
Clement.
{^Softly to Minnie.] What's he doing here ?
Minnie.
[To Clement.] Just what he does everywhere.
He's the original little old man of the sea ! \Stamp-
ing her foot.] He — he must be awfully lond of
mamma !
Clement.
[To himself] We can't snub him after his splen-
84 SWEET LAVENDER
did behaviour in Paris. Poor fellow ! I wonder if
he would join our theatre party. [To Horace,]
We're going to the Cabinet Theatre, Mr, Bream.
I'm sure my aunt will be very pleased to see you in
her box, if you —
Minnie.
Oh!
Clement.
It holds four,
Horace,
[_Sha]dng hands with Clement.] Sir, it shall
hold one who is eternally obliged to you.
Minnie.
[Distractedly.'] It's Fate !
Enter Dick, in dilapidated erwning dress, old opera
hat and seedy gloves.
Clement,
[Surprised.] Why, Dick — I —
Dick.
Hadn't the heart to disoblige you, Clement, my
boy.
Clement.
I have just asked Mr. Bream to take the fourth
seat in the box.
Minnie.
I'm sure Mr. Bream will see that Mr. Phenyl has
the first claim.
SWEET LA VENDER 85
Horace.
[Bo%ving.'\ Oh, cert'nly. [To himself.'] That's
just cruel, anyway.
Dick.
[Clapping his hat on the mantelpiece and hastily
removing his gloves.'] Coulda't think of it ! Happy
release for all parties.
Horace.
[Throiving his hat in the air and catching it.] Ha !
Minnie.
[To herself.] It w Fate !
[There is a very pronounced rat-tat-fai at
the outer door.
Minnie.
My mamma !
Horace.
[To himself] And, I hope, mine.
Clement.
[To Dick.] That's aunt, Dick.
Dick.
Auntie, undoubtedly.
Clement.
[Hesitatingly.] Will you — er ?
Dick.
No, Clement, my boy. I opened the door last —
your turn.
86 SWEET LAVENDER
[Dick joins Horace and Minnie. Clem-
ent goes to the door and 02Jens it. Mrs.
GiLFiLLiAN is seen outside, dressed for
the theatre.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Clement ! Is Minnie here ?
Clement.
Yes, aunt. Won't you come in?
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Come in? Of course I'll come in. [Entering.]
Minnie !
Minnie.
Mamma !
Mrs. Gilfillian.
[Indi(j7iantli/.] Don't speak to me ! A young
girl ! You who taught in a Sunday-school at Barn-
chester. Don't speak to me ! What have you to
say for yourself ?
Clement.
[Arranging the armchair for her."] My dear
aunt —
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Go away, Clement. [Breathlessly, sinking into the
armchai7'.] How did you get here ?
Minnie.
A hansom, mamma.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
How dare you ! An unmarried girl in a hansom !
SWEET LAVENDER 87
Minnie.
They're quicker than four-wheelers, mamma.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Quicker! They're faster. I never drove in
hansoms alone till I was thirty-three, and then I
made the driver promise not to look at me through
the roof.
Minnie.
They never do that when you're alone. Mamma
— \_coaxing^ — and, indeed, I'm very sorry.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Sorry !
Minnie.
I wanted to speak to Clement — just by ourselves
— there !
Mrs. Gilfillian.
You haven't quarrelled !
Minnie.
Quarrelled ! No. We understand each other
better now than we have ever done.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
[Patting Minnie's cheek approvingly.] Perhaps
I've been a little too cross with you. [In a whis-
per.'] But you must tell me everything to-night
before you close your eyes. Mind — everything!
Minnie.
Yes — everything !
88 SWEET LA VENDER
Mrs. Gilfillian.
[Triumphantly, to herself.'] It's settled! I'm
sure of it !
Clement.
[Looldng at his tvatch.] Shall we start, aunt ?
Mrs. Gilfillian.
[Looking at him beaminghj, and boxing his ears
plaTjfulhj with her fan.] The carriage is waiting.
You bad boy !
[Unnoticed, Dick stands looking on.
Clement.
I hope you'll forgive me, aunt, for providing a
fourth occupant to your box.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Not that Mr. Funnel !
Dick.
No.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
[Txirning:] Oh ! [To Dick apologetically.] I —
really — I —
Clement.
Mr. Bream, aunt !
Mrs. Gilfillian.
[Turning ronnd and coming face to face with
Horace.] Mr. Bream !
SWEET LAVENDER 89
[Horace talks to Mrs. Gilfillian, Dick
chuckling at them.
Minnie.
[^Quietly to Clement.] Clem, I must ask your
advice about Mr. Bream, directly.
Clement.
Delighted. [Assisting Minnie to put on mantle."]
Bream, will you drive on with my aunt to the
theatre ? Minnie and I want to walk up to Brigg's,
the florist's by Middle Temple Gate. We'll follow
you in a cab.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
[To herself.] They have settled it ! [Shaking her
fail at Clement.] Ah — h — h ! you sly boy. [Good
hiimouredly taking Horace's aryn.] We're encum-
brances. Come along, Mr. Bream !
Horace.
[Ruefully to himself] Damn !
[He takes Mrs. Gilfillian out, leaving
the door open.
Clement.
Good-night, Dick. [ Warningly.] Word of hon-
our as usual !
Dick.
[To Clement, loftily.] Word of honour, as usual,
Clement, my boy.
90 SWEET LA VENDER
Minnie.
Good-night, Mr. Phenyl. So sorry you are not
coining with us. Is the florist's far ?
Dick.
Two minutes.
Clement.
We can make it ten by going round. It's a fine
night.
\As Minnie and Clement go out, Bulger
passes them and enters hastily.
Clement.
[Outside.'] Ah ! Mr. Bulger.
[Clement closes the door. Dick turns and
almost catches Bulger in his arms.
Bulger, who is dressed in his best, is
very agitated.
Bulger.
Mr. Phenyl !
Dick.
What's the matter ?
[Bulger drojjs faintly into the armchair,
and wipes his brow with a coloured hand-
kerchief.
Bulger.
Excuse me for setting, sir ; oh ! Mr. Phenyl.
Dick.
I wish yon wouldn't look as if you expected me
to shave you, Bulger. You're not ill, I hope ?
SWEET LAVENDER 9I
Bulger.
You and me has known Mrs. Rolt the same len'th
o' time, Mr. Phenyl.
Dick.
What of her ?
Bulger.
There's no need for secrecy no longer, sir. I 'ave
regarded Mrs. Rolt very deeply for years, sir.
Dick.
Bulger !
Bulger.
Ridickleous it seems, most likely — I don't deny it.
Dick.
Of course it's ridiculous.
Bulger.
\Angrxly?\ I tell you I don't deny it, sir ! But
it's 'ard to keep our place in this world when the
place is a mean small one, and I 'ave so far forgot
myself concerning Ruth Rolt as to drop into poetry.
\He 'produces a folded paper from his hat.
Dick shrinks away.
Dick.
No!
Bulger.
Don't fear, sir. But this ev'ning while 'anging
about the railin's downstairs — more like a thief
than an old-established hairdresser — 'oping for a
92 SWEET LAVENDER
cliauce to slip this into Mrs. R.'s 'and, I — I saw
what's brought rae up to you, Mr. Phenyl.
Dick.
What have you seen, Bulger ?
BuiiGER.
Peerin' over the top of the blind I see her little
hornaments vanished from the mantelpiece, sir,
and her few pictures took down — and — and —
Dick.
Bulger ! what does it mean ?
Bulger.
It honly means one thing to my mind. Ruth
Rolfs a-goin', Mr. Phenyl.
Dick.
Going ! Going away !
Bulger.
\I'acing distractedly up and down the room.~\
Goin', after all these years.
Dick.
Wait!
[Dick nins excitedly up to the outer door,
opens it and goes out. He returns di-
rectly, drawing the ctirtain over the pas-
sage opening.
Dick.
^Breathlessly, holding the curtain.^ Bulger !
SWEET LAVENDER 93
Dick.
[Pointing to the door of his bedroom.^ Get out of
the way ! Wait iu that room.
[Bulger goes into Dick's bedroom. The
curtain is then jyushed aside and Ruth,
in outgoing attire, looks in.
Ruth.
Mr. Phenyl !
Dick.
[With assumed lightness.'] Ah, Ruth!
Ruth.
I've seen Mr. Hale go out with his friends ; is
there any chance of his returning till late ?
Dick.
They're off to the play. He won't be back till
past eleven. [She drops the curtain.
Dick.
What's this ? What's this ?
Ruth.
[Outside, calling softly.'] Lavender ! Lavender !
Dick.
Lavender ! [Ruth pushes aside the curtain and
enters with Lavender, who is also dressed for going
out, while her face is pale, her eyes red with weeping.^
Why, Lavvy !
94
SWEET LAVENDER
KUTH.
\Fressing Lavender to heri\ Don't speak to
her. She can't bear it.
Dick.
Ruth, what are you doing ?
Ruth.
Running away, people will call it ; but we're out
of debt, so that doesn't matter. We've come to
say — good-bye, Mr. Phenyl.
Dick.
Good-bye, Ruth ! Not good-bye !
[Lavendek gives a little cry of pain ; Ruth
places her in the armchair, then speaks
to Dick apart.
Ruth.
You've been a kind friend to us for fifteen years,
Mr. Phenyl, but I'd have gone without troubling
you, because you won't understand. But Lavvy
begged so hard to look at this room once more, and
I trust you not to hinder us ; T know I can trust you.
\_Sh6 leaves him and leans her head on the
hack of the chair, weeping.
Dick.
You're not going to hide yourselves away from
Mr. Hale ? [Lavender starts up with a cry.
Lavender,
Oh, yes, yes!
SWEET LAVENDER 95
Ruth.
Mr. Hale ! Why did he ever come here to bring
this sorrow ou me — to rob me of ray little girl's
love ? What is Mr. Hale to me ? I was rich before
he came, because of her. My poor rooms were warm
and well-furnished — all because of her. Yester-
day any grand lady might have envied me — be-
cause of her. [Indignantly.'] Mr. Hale, indeed !
Lavender.
Mother ! I'm doing what you ask me, without
complaining. But don't — don't speak against Mr.
Hale any more.
Dick.
[Fiercely.'] Speak against Mr. Hale ! Who does ?
Ruth, who's at the bottom of this ? I'll know —
I'll know, before I let this boy's heart be broken as
well as Lavvy's !
[Lavender goes to Dick mid lays her head
upon his shoulder, sobbing.
Lavender.
Oh, Mr. Phenyl ! Will it break his heart ? Will
it — will it?
Ruth.
[To Dick, despairingly.] You'll undo all I've
done. Don't ! don't !
[Dick puts Lavender from him gently. She
goes a7id sits weeping on the window seat.
Dick.
Now, looV. here, Ruth Rolt !
96 SWEET LAVENDER
Ruth.
Hush ! Mr. Phenyl, I'm deceiving her !
Dick.
Deceiving her ?
E.UTH.
I'm forcing her to do this ! I've begged to her,
gone down on my knees to her, made her promise
not to forsake me. I've told her that if Mr. Hale
married her, his rich friends would turn their backs
on him, and that he'd soon weary of a wife who'd
brought him only poverty. I've taught her that a
true woman best proves her love for a man by think-
ing of his future. But, Heaven forgive me, that's
not why I'm doing this — that's not why !
Dick.
Then there's no reason at all, Ruth, and you
sha'n't do it ! I say, you sha'n't do it !
Ruth.
Oh, pity me ! I'll tell you ! If Lavender ever
married Mr. Hale she would have to be told the
secret of my life.
Dick.
\In a whisper. '\ The secret, Ruth !
Ruth.
Yes. I pray for all women who hug such a secret
to their bosom as I have always with me to keep me
company. It would have worn me out years ago
but for one blessing, one consolation — my child's
SWEET LAVENDER 97
respect for her mother. I've no right to it, but it
has made my life endurable, even happy, and — im-
agine what it would be for me to lose it now !
[Dick holds out his hand; she turns and
takes it.
Dick.
[Falteri?i(/l(/.'] Euth, did I speak crossly to you ?
Kuth, did I ? I — I'm sorry ; Lord forgive me —
what a trouble and a worry I've been to you these
fifteen years !
[Ruth leans upon the armchair, weeping.
Lavender comes to Dick.
Lavender.
\_Faintli/.'] IVIother, may I sit with Mr. Phenyl,
if he'll let me, till it's time for us to start ?
Dick.
[Patting her head.'\ Of course, Lavvy — of
course.
Euth.
[In a whisper to Dick.] Oh, tell her that what
I do is right. I know she'll never love me again
as she has loved me ; but be my friend and defend
me, Mr. Phenyl. [To Lavender, as she is going
towards the door.'] In ten minutes, Lavender.
Lavender.
Yes, mother.
Dick.
[Following Euth.] You won't confide in me
where you're goiug, Ruth ?
98 SWEET LA VENDER
Ruth.
Don't ask me — even she doesn't know yet.
Good-bye.
Dick.
{Taking her hand.'l Ah, Ruth — fifteen years ^
fifteen years.
Ruth.
[Tear/w/^y.] I remember many, many kindnesses
to me and my little one. \Tiaising his hand to her
lips.'] Good-bye, Mr. Phenyl. \^She goes out.
Dick.
[To himself, as he goes to the aTrmchair and sinks
into it.'] Good-bye, Ruth, good-bye. Fifteen years I
Fifteen years !
Lavender.
Mr. Phenyl !
Dick.
Lavender !
Lavender.
Is it true, Mr. Phenyl ?
Dick.
Is what true ?
Lavender.
Mother says that Mr. Hale's friends would turn
against him if he married me ; would they ? She
says that he'd dote on me for a time, and treat me
like a child does a doll, and then he'd grow tired
of me and fret for what he'd lost by choosing a toy-
wife instead of a lady. Is that true, Mr. Phenyl ?
SWEET LAVENDER 99
Dick.
\_Distressed.'] Lavvy, you do ask such questions !
Lavender.
You know him very well ; perhaps he's talked to
you a little about me. I'll believe you if you tell
me I'm not fit for him. Is it true, Mr. Phenyl, is
it true ?
\^She breaks down, and sinking on her knees,
bows her head on the arm of the chair,
and sobs.
Dick.
\Hesitatingly.'\ Lavvy — I —
Lavender.
[^Crying. '\ Oh, it's not true, is it ?
Dick.
[ With an effort.] Yes, Lavvy, it's true.
Lavender.
[Faintly.] Oh !
Dick.
It's the way of the world for poverty to make us
sour and unjust ; and if Clem came to grief he
might lay it at the door of the little doll's house
which contained the little doll he'd married.
Lavender.
[Rising, and drawing back.] Oh, I don't believe
that of Clem.
loo SWEET LAVENDER
Dick.
\Starting up and folloiving her.] No — nor I !
Lavender.
Ah!
Dick.
[Checkiriff himself.'] But — your mother knows
better than Ave do ! — your mother knows better
than we do ! So you must go downstairs now,
Lavvy. It's quite time you went downstairs to
your mother.
Lavender.
I wanted you to let me write a letter here, just
saying good-bye to Clement ; but now you send me
downstairs.
Dick.
[2fot looking at her.] Be quick, then, be quick.
Lavender.
Yes, I'll be quick.
[_S?ie goes to the writing-tahle, and sits writ-
ing.
Dick.
[^Eyeing Lavender, guiltily.] I'm behaving re-
markably well to Clement, I am. I'm a valuable
friend for a young gentleman to board with and
confide in, I flatter myself ! Ugh !
Lavender.
[^Writing.] " My dear — my dear — " [To ?ier-
self.] How can I call him my dear ; he's not my
dear !
SWEET LAVENDER loi
[/SAe sobs. Dick hears her and starts, put-
ting his fingers in his ears.
Dick.
[^Helplessly. ^ Why did I promise to help Ruth ?
Lavender.
Oh, Clement, Clement!
Dick.
[To himself.^ Poor Clem ! I shall never be able
to look him in the face again. I — I —
\_He works his mouth as if his tongue were dry,
then desperately looks into the teapot.
Lavender.
[ Writing.] " It's for your good — I'm going
away." [ With another sob.] Ah 1
Dick.
[Shutting the lid of the teapot.] Empry.
[Jfe starts up, looks round quickly, then goes
to the sideboard, stoojnng doivn and open-
ing the cupboard, while he glances over
his shoulder at Lavender.
Lavender.
[Resting her head upon the table."] Oh, I can't.
I can't.
[Dick takes a decanter of whiskey and the
carafe and tumbler from the sideboard
and brings them to the table.
I02 SWEET LA VENDER
Dick.
[To himself.'] The last time, Clement, my boy
— the last time. [He pours some whiskey into the
tumbler and gulps it. It makes him cough : he looks
round at Lavendek guiltily, then draws the left side
of the large curtain over the opening to the further
rooynl\ Only a thimbleful, Clement, my boy.
[Pouring out more ivhiskey and drinking it; then
sitting and staring at the tumbler.'] I — I've broken
my word to Clement. [Drinking.] If Clem were
to come back now by chance he'd see me — . [Sud-
denly.] He'd see her — . Oh! [He drains his
glass and rises excitedly.] Clemen', my boy 1 Why
shouldn't you come back now — by chance ? [He
goes to the table and scribbles a few words on a pjiece
of paper, which he hastily encloses in an envelope.
Bulger ! Where did I put Bulger ? [Recollecting.'
Bulger ! [Going hastily to the door of his bedroom,
opening it, and calling in a whisj^er.] Bulger!
[BuLGEK appears in the doorway. Dick seizes him
and gives him the note.] Run up to Brigg's, the
florist. If you catch Mr. Hale there, give him that.
Run, Bulger, run — run ! [He hurries Bulger out.'
Now, I've broken my word to poor Ruth. [ Weakly.'
Bulger! [Going to the door again, opening it, and
calling faintly.] Bulger? Don't run — walk!
Mr. Maw, a white-haired old gentleman in an In-
verness cape, ivith a crisp, dry manner of speak-
ing, appears outside.
Maw.
Oh, I'm lucky, Mr. Phenyl. May I speak to
you on a matter of great importance ?
SWEET LAVENDER 103
Dick.
^Closing the door.'] Mr. Maw, I think ? '
Maw.
Yes. I am very late in leaving my oflBce to-night,
and seeing your light in your window — . [Staring
at Dick.] I hope you're well ?
Dick.
\_Draiving himself up with dignity.'] Qui' well,
than'g you. Take a chair.
Maw.
[Sitting — to himself.] This man is in his usual
condition, I'm afraid.
Dick.
[Drawing the right side of the large curtain to
meet the left side, completely hiding the further room
from view.] Excuse me, Lavvy — two minutes —
two minutes.
[He walks with rather uncertain steps to a
chair and sits, mixing some whiskey and
water.
Maw.
[Taking some papers from his pocket — eyeing
Dick.] Well, well, perhaps it's better ! I really
pity him.
Dick.
[Drinking.] Broken my word to Buth.
Maw.
[Selecting from his papers a letter with a deep
mourning border.] Mr. Phenyl.
104 SWEET LAVENDER
Dick.
[ With a wave of the hand, towards the decanter.^
Join me ?
Maw.
\_Sharply.'\ No, thank you.
Dick.
No. [ Getting quite muddled.'] If you don't take
weak drop whiskey an' wa'er after the labours of
the day, when do you take weak drop whiskey an'
wa'er ?
Maw.
Never, sir. Mr. Phenyl, your late mother's
brother, Mr. Vipout —
Dick.
Uncle George. [^Snapping his fingers indignantly.']
I washed my ban's of him twen'y years ago — on
account of his habits. I should say my habits.
\_Drinking again.
Maw.
If you'd kindly postpone your — supper till I've
gone I should feel obliged. Mr. Phenyl, you will
regret to hear that Mr. Vipont is dead.
[Dick has his glass to his lips — he replaces
it upon the table.
Dick.
[ Whimpering.] Poor Uncle George ! A violent-
tempered man, Mr. Maw — all blame, blame ; but
praise, oh dear, no! [With a hiccough.] Much
might have been done by kindness.
SWEET LAVENDER 105
Maw.
\_Shortly.'\ Whatever lack of toleration your
uncle displayed towards you, Mr. Phenyl, he ne-
glected to destroy a will made years ago entirely
in your favour.
Dick.
{Rising unsteadily.'] My fav'ah ! Will in — my
fav'ah ! My !
Maw.
[Raising his hand.] But, Mr. Phenyl —
Dick.
[Swaying to ayid fro over IMaw.] But ! Oh, I
p'ceive. My poor uncle resembled his poor nephew
— never thought of the rainy day when he'd want
a pound or two to die with.
Maw.
I beg your pardon. I have a schedule here of
bonds and other easily negotiable securities, depos-
ited with his bankers, of the value of twenty-five
thousand pounds.
Dick.
[ With his hand to his head.] Wai' ! Wai' !
Twen'y-five thousan' —
Maw.
Beyond that I trace a further fifteen thousand
entrusted to these bankers for investment at their
discretion.
[Dick falls into his chair and gulps at his
drink.
io6 SWEET LAVENDER
Dick.
\_Incoherenth/.'] Twen'y-fiv^e thousan' — fifteen
thousau' — for'y thousau' —
Maw.
But, Mr. Phenyl, I've not yet told you every-
thing.
Dick.
[Waving him away."] For'y thousan' — that's
sufficient !
Maw.
I've told you that Mr. Vipont's fortune was in
the hands of his hankers.
Dick.
[Drinking.'] Long life to the bankers !
Maw.
It is the old tale, sir — over-speculation, tempta-
tion, false balance sheets. To-day the doors of the
bank to which Mr. Vipont entrusted his fortune
have been finally closed.
Dick.
Broke !
Maw.
[Producing a telegram.] This telegram informs
me that two of the partners have absconded. It's
a bad business, Mr. Phenyl.
Dick.
[Blankly.'] Flight of — for'y — thousan' part-
ners ! [Taking the telegram from Maw and look-
ing at it stupidly.] Uncle George's fortune.
SWEET LAVENDER 107
\B,ustling the telegram and looking through it as if
tt were a bank-note.^ Largest bank-note I've ever
had in my life.
[^Sticking the telegram in his waistcoat pocket,
Dick staggers across the room as the door
opens and Clement enters with Dick's
note in his hand.
Clement.
[^Breathlessly.^ Dick !
Dick.
Clemen', my boy !
[Clement comes upon Dick toho is sitting
helplessli/ on the arm of the chair.
Clement.
[^Starting hack.'] Dick ! You've been — drink-
ing!
Dick.
No. [Pointing to Maw.] My s'litor, Mr. Maw,
Maw.
[BnLsquely.] Mr. Phenyl isn't very well, I'm
afraid.
Dick.
[To Maw.] The spirits are with you, Mr. Maw.
Maw.
I'll see Mr. Phenyl in the morning.
[Maw goes out and shuts door.
io8 SWEET LAVENDER
Clement.
\_Pulling Dick up-l Dick, speak to me ! What's
the meaning of this note ?
Dick.
Ban'g note, Clemen'. For'y thousan' pounds.
Clement.
\_Shaking Dick's arm.'] Dick! there's no bad
news of Lavender.
Dick.
\_SUghtly reviving.'] Lavender ! Oh — I remem-
ber. [^Pointing toward the curtains.] Impor'ant
letter from Lavender in the nex' room.
Clement.
A letter ! Thank you for sending after me, but
I wouldn't have come back to see you like this,
not even for a letter from Lavender. Dick, I'll
never trust you again !
\_He goes through the curtains, closing them
after him.
Dick.
[Piteously.] Oh, do forgive me, Clemen'! do
overlook it !
[^There is the sound of a cry from Lavendeb.
Lavender.
[Ore the other side of the curtains.] Ah, Clement !
Dick.
lIAsteni/ng.] Ah ! you'll forgive me now, Clem-
SWEET LA VENDER 109
en*, won't you ? It's Ruth who'll never forgive me.
I'll hide from Euth ! I can't face Ruth ! [Tak-
ing up the decanter and tumbler and crossing to the
door of his bedrooni.'] The las' time, Clemen', my
boy — the las' time !
\_He stumbles out, as Clement comes through
the curtains supporting Lavender. He
places her gently upon the sofa.
Clement.
\In a whisper.'] Dick — I didn't mean what I
said. I —
Lavender.
[Opening her eyes.] Clement!
Clement.
[Bending over her.] Lavender !
Lavender.
The letter — the letter I was writing to you !
Fetch it.
Clement.
The letter!
[He disappears through the curtain.
Lavender.
He mustn't find out to-night that mother is taking
me away !
[Clement re-enters with the lett&r.
Clement.
Won't you give it to me ?
no SWEET LAVENDER
Lavender.
By-and-bye ! by-and-bye !
[He gives her the letter — she thrusts it into
her jjocket with a sigh of relief.
Clement.
My poor little sweetheart, are these the red
cheeks you promised ? Is this how you keep faith
with me ?
Lavender.
I meant to keep faith with you always, Clement.
[Covering her face with her hands.
Clement.
Ah, I'm not scolding you. How brave of you to
struggle up all these stairs to ease my suspense.
But won't you say that you're better — a little bet-
ter — for seeing me ?
Lavender.
[Falteringly.'] Yes; I — I — But you startled
me so, Clement !
Clement.
[Putting his arm round her.] Why, what a deli-
cate little flower it is, and how I shall have to tend
it and nurture it all my life !
Lavender.
All — your — life ! All your life !
[She takes his hand from her shoulder and
throws it almost roughly from her — then
rises in agitation.
SWEET LAVENDER in
Clement.
[StaTtledi\ Lavender !
Lavender.
\XJnder her breath, clasping her hands^ Mother!
don't take me away ! Don't, don't take me away !
Clement.
Lavender ! You're angry with me.
Lavender.
[Pointing to the clock.'] No; but I'd forgotten —
Mother is waiting for me. Good-night, Clement.
Clement.
Ah, no — not yet.
Lavender.
I must — I — I promised. And, Clement, you
have been very troubled about me, the few hours
we've been separated, haven't you ?
Clement.
Troubled ! If you only knew !
Lavender.
Well, then, dear, I want you to remember, if ever
we're parted again —
Clement.
No — not again, Lavender.
112 . SWEET LAVENDER
Lavender.
I mean, if ever you have to go upon a journey, or
I — have — to go — a journey — I want you to bear
in mind tliat my thoughts are true and faithful and
loving to you.
Clement.
My sweet Lavender !
Lavender.
And though I'm a poor commonplace girl, and
you're far above me, my prayers for you are just as
good as any lady's, and tliey shall never cease, night
or morning — never, dear, never, not as long as I
live. [^Taking the letter froin her pocket, and ffivinff
it to him timidly.'] There's the letter I wrote to
you. You must give me your word you'll not open
it till the morning.
Clement.
I do give you my word.
Lavender.
Let me see you hide it away somewhere : in the
next room, or —
Clement.
[ With a smile.'] Certainly. I'll lock it up there.
[Goinff to the writing-tahle, arid inilocking the drawer,
he puts the letter away, talking, while his back is
turned towards Lavender.] There ! When I open
this drawer to-morrow these old bills will have
doubled themselves with pride. What have they
done to deserve such sweet company ?
SWEET LAVENDER 113
^Seizing her opportunity, with a last look
at Clement, she goes softly up to the
oilier door. As she reaches it there is a
loud rat-tat-tat, and, with a cry, she
comes back into the room.
Lavender.
Clement !
Clement.
\_Tuming.'] Hullo! A caller for Dick, I expect.
Whoever it is, he doesn't come in.
\_IIe goes up to the outer door and opens it.
Mr. Geoffrey Wedderburn is outside.
Wedderburn.
\_Heartily.'] Clement, my dear lad !
Clement.
Father !
\_With a low cry. Lavender disappears
through the curtain, as Wedderburn
enters, while Clement, having closed the
door, looks around for her. Geoffrey
Wedderburn is a handsome, well-pre-
served man of about fifty with a ruddy
face, a bright cheery voice with a slight
burr in it, and the air and manner of a
prosperous country gentleman. He is
dressed in tweeds and an ulster, as if
from a journey. He throws his hat and
gloves xipon the sofa, then turns to
Clement with open arms.
114 SWEET LAVENDER
Wedderburn.
Come here ! \Affectionately 7^ Lord, bow glad I
am to see you !
Clement.
\Taking his hand.'] Ah, father, now that I hear
your kind voice 1 feel how neglectful I've been.
You look well.
Wedderburn.
Look well ! Ha, ha ! \_Playf^dly.'\ I haven't
a little love affair on hand, you villain !
\_Throwing his ulster upon the sofa.
Clement.
Dad, you know !
Wedderburn.
Know ! All the world knows when a terrible
chap like you is in love.
Clement.
[^Embarrassed.'] I was going to write to you to-
night.
Wedderburn.
Don't you trouble yourself, Clem. [Taking a
bundle of letters and papers from his pocket.] Your
Aunt Clara's telegram gives a few interesting par-
ticulars.
Clement.
Mrs. Gilfillian's telegram !
Wedderburn.
Why, what dy'e think has brought me from Paris
in such a deuce of a hurry — eh ?
SWEE T LA VENDER 1 1 5
Clement.
And you're not angry, father ?
Wedderburn.
Angry. Now, have I ever been angry with you,
my boy ?
Clement,
No, dad — never.
Wedderburn.
No, and a plague of a child you've been, too.
Clement.
[^Laughinff.l Ha, ha !
Wedderburn.
\_Taking Clement's hand and looking into his
face.'] But the ouly time you really hurt me, Clem,
was when you had the fever years ago, and I sat by
your bedside through some dreadful nights and —
you didn't know me when I spoke to you. Ah,
Clem!
Clement.
\_Putting his hand on Wedderburn's shoulder.']
Ah, dad !
Wedderburn.
However, confound that ! [Selecting a telegram
from among his letters and looking at it through a
gold-rimmed eye-glass.] And so she's the daughter
of the laundress of these new chambers of yours, is
she, Clement ?
ii6 SWEET LAVENDER
Clement.
{Biting his lip.'] Yes, father, but —
Wedderburn.
But she's very beautiful, hey ?
Clement.
She's very sweet, very good —
Wedderburn.
[Beading the telegram.] Oh, I know, my dear
lad — I know.
Clement.
Father, would you like to see her — this evening?
[Wedderburn returns his papers to his
pocket and rises, putting his arm round
Clement's shoulder.
Wedderburn.
Now, my dear Clement, why on earth should I
see her ?
Clement.
\_Under his breath.] Father!
Wedderburn.
Come, come, we'll have a bit of a jaunt together,
you and I. They don't want me at the bank — I'm
only a name there nowadays ; but for form's sake
we'll run down to Barnchester in the morning, and
then we'll cut away North and be lazy and happy.
Look sharp ; tell your man to throw a few things
into a portmanteau, and c(nne back with me to the
hotel to-night. [Taking up his hat and coat.
SWEET LAVENDER 117
Clement.
Dad ! You — you don't understand. I can
never leave here until — Father, Lavender is to be
my wife !
[Wedderburn stands for a moment thought-
fulhj, then throws down his hat and coat
and crosses to the fireplace, taking a
cigar from his cigar-case, w;7ii7e Clement
watches him.
Wedderburn.
Clement, my dear boy, my son, when I was a
young man — old enough to know better, but
a young man — I fell in love with a woman just as
enchanting, I dare swear, as this Miss — Lavender,
as you call her.
Clement.
Well, father ?
Wedderburn.
She was a woman in humble life but I loved her
— dearly. But just as I was on the point of marry-
ing her, Clem, my hard, old-fashioned common-
sense pulled me back.
Clement.
Ah, sir ! — why ?
Wedderburn.
Why ? Why, my lady would have been all
elbows, as we say, among tlie starched gentlefolks
of Barnchester. She would have been mercilessly
cut by the whole county, Clement.
Ii8 SWEET LAVENDER \
I
(
Clement.
Then confound the whole county, sir. j
"i
Weddekburn", I
Oh, by all means. But the neglect would have |
soured her and made me cross, and it would have j
been a damned wretched marriage. Tliat's all, my '
boy. [Taking Clement's hand.] But, Clem, it '.
nearly broke me up at that time, and to find some j
corner to hide my love in, I made a son of the child
of a dear dead schoolfellow of mine. ;
Clement.
Sir, I can't ever repay you. :
Weddekburn.
Yes, you can — all the payment I want you can '
make me to-night. What I did for common-sense :
years ago you must do for me at this moment. So ;
put on your hat and come along.
[ Goes to sofa and takes up coat and hat. \
Clement.
I — I can't, father. \
Wedderburn.
[^Sharply.'] You — you won't, you mean ? j
I
Clement. '
Father! \
Wedderburn. ;
She or I — which is it ?
S WEE T LA VENDER 1 1 9
Clement.
God bless you for all your goodness to me, sir ;
but she is to be my wife.
Dick.
\_Calling from his room.] Clemeu', my boy!
Clemen' !
Wedderburn.
What's that ?
Clement.
[Golnff towards the door of Dick's room.'] Hush,
Dick!
\_The door opens, and Dick staggers on,
flourishing the telegram which Maw has
give7i hiTn.
Dick.
Clemen' ! Look here ! This telegram to my
s'licitor ! Look !
Clement.
[Trying to silence him.] Be quiet, Dick ! Mr.
Wedderburn !
Dick.
Wedderburn !
Wedderburn.
May I ask the name of your friend ?
Clement.
Richard Phenyl. We share these rooms together.
Wedderburn.
[Angrily, to Dick.] Then, sir, I congratulate
you on acquiring the undivided companionship of
lao SWEET LAVENDER
Mr. Clement Hale, who can now accompany you to
the gutter with all possible speed.
Dick.
[Indignantly.'] The gurr'er !
Wedderburn.
The gutter, sir — which I take to be your des-
tination.
Dick.
The gurr'er ! [Handing him the telegram,] Then
we can give you a lift, Mr. Wedderburn.
Clement.
Dick, be silent !
Wedderburn.
What's this mean? \_Ta1cing the telegram.
Dick.
It means that Wedderburn, Green, and Hoskett,
bankers, of Barnchester, have s'spended paymen' !
Broke, sir, to atoms !
[There is a knocking at the outer door.
Dick staggers up to it. Clement goes
to Wedderburn, ^vho stands gazing
steadily at the telegram.
Clement.
Pather ! You know better than to believe this.
[The knock is repeated. Wedderburn is sile7it.'\
Father !
SWEET LAVENDER 121
[Dick opens the door and admits Mrs. Gil-
FiLLiAN, Minnie, and Horacr. The two
former, seeing Wedderburn, go to him,
while Horace speaks rapidly to Clement.
Dick, leaving the door open, joins them,.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Geoffrey !
Minnie.
Uncle ! Uncle ! [Putting her arm round his
neck.] There's some dreadful news in the paper —
about the bank, Uncle Geoffrey.
Wedderburn.
The paper — send for it ; let me see it.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Geoffrey, it isn't true.
Wedderburn.
[With an effort.] Show me — the paper. [Hear-
ing a movement, he turns sharply and sees Clement
reading from a newspaper which Horace holds.]
You have it there — give it me. Mrs. Gilfillian
sits weeping on the sofa; Minnie stands bending
over her consolingly. Clement gives Wedderburn
the newspaper. After looking at the paper for a
moment, ^VEDDERBURN, with a groan, bows his head
upon the mantelpiece. In a smothered voice.] The
villains ! Dishonour ! Dishonour !
Euth.
[Calling softly outside.] Lavender! [She enters
hurriedly.] Lavender ! [To Clement, seeing all
122 SWEET LAVENDER
i?<^ Wedderburn.] Where is she ? I want — my
daughter.
*o'
[Clement disappears through the curtains.
Wedderburn, hearing Ruth's voice,
turns, and he and Ruth come face to
face.
Wedderburn.
[In a whisper. '\ Ruth !
\_They stand staring at each other. Lav-
ender comes through the curtains. With
an effort Ruth seizes her and goes out
with her quickly. As they disappear
Wedderburn puts his hand to his eyes
and staggers, and Clement, re-entering
at that nioment, catches him as he drops
into the armchair fainting.
Clement.
Father ! Father !
END OF THE SECOND ACT.
THE THIRD ACT
The scene is the same as before, but the tim,e is a
week later.
Clement, looking iveary and downhearted, comes
from his bedroom.
Clement.
\As he closes the door.'] Father, I shall be with
you in half-an-hour.
\^He takes xip his hat, as Dick, improved
in appearance, but ivithoiit his coat, and
wearing a housemaid' s apron, and carry-
ing a long carpet-broom., a dustpan, and
a hand-broom, enters the room from the.
passage.
Dick.
Groing out, Clement, my boy ?
Clement.
Why, what are you doing, Dick ?
Dick.
I've had a fierce, a terrible, altercation with Mrs.
123
124 SWEET LAVENDER
McOstrich, the new woman downstairs ; really a
disgraceful row — on her part especially. She said
if I hadn't been a man, she'd have struck me. Oh,
what a change !
Clement.
\_Despondently.'\ Change ! The house seems a
hundred years older, now Lavender has gone.
Dick,
Yes, and a thousand years dirtier, now Ruth is
gone. [Cheerfulli/.] However, poor Mrs. Gilfillian
and Minnie sha'n't be put about, and so I rise to
the occasion. \_Placing the chistpan and hand-hroom
on the sofa, and proceeding to turn iip his shirt-
sleeves.] I've an excellent notion of thorough
housework, Clement, my boy.
Clement.
Dick, I'm ashamed of myself when I think what
a splendid chap you've been all through this dread-
ful week.
Dick.
[Good-humouredlg.] Pooh! Don't talk to me,
sir ! I certainly did prepare Mrs. Gilfillian's and
Minnie's breakfast this morning; I don't deny that.
Clement.
You I
Dick.
My dear Clem, a man who is on familiar terms
with every grill in Fleet Street ought to know some-
thing about cooking. [Resting his broom against
the armchair, he takes up a covered dish from the
SWEET LA VENDER 125
tahle?^ I don't wish to put side on over a few pal-
try foolish kidneys, but — [raising the disJi-cover]
— confound it, they haven't looked at 'em.
Clement.
[Iiispecting the dish ivith Dick.] I'm afraid they
have, Dick.
Dick.
[Indignantly.'] Of course ! Go on ! Blame,
blame — but ])raise, oh, dear, no! [He takes up
the teajJot, and begins to sprinkle the tea-leaves on
the floor angrily. \ If you're going out, I'll not
detain you. I am nervous when watched.
Clement.
[Not heeding him.] I have to meet Mr. Maw at
half-past ten to hear the result of the meeting of
the bank creditors at Barnchester yesterday.
Dick.
Oh!
Clement.
But the ship's hopelessly aground, Dick, and we
shall never get her off again — another bump or two
and she breaks up ; a few spars float out seaward in
the shape of poor ruined depositors, and there's an
end. And what an end ! Driven on to the rocks
by a couple of rogues while the skipper is asleep
below. There's a moral in it all, Dick.
Dick.
[Sprinkling the tea-leaves.] There is, Clement,
126 SWEET LAVENDER
my boy. The moral will possibly assume the curt
and abbreviated form of sixpence in the pound.
Clement.
Ah, you're thinking of old Mr. Vipont's fortune,
Dick — your fortune.
Dick.
No, I'm not ! Don't be so \injust, Clem.
Clement.
You'd have been a rich man.
Dick.
Clement, my boy, it would have been the ruin of
me ! There is an appropriateness about a poor
vagabond, but a wealthy vagabond is an outrage
to society.
Clement.
Society makes forty thousand excuses for forty
thousand pounds — while it lasts.
Dick.
It wouldn't have lasted. It might have induced
me to keep a cellar. Don't be sorry for me, Clem!
Be sorry for yourself, and for your people, but not
for a chap like me !
Clement.
[ Wringing Dick's hand.'] Bless you, Dick ! [Dick
continues sprinkling the tea-leaves.'] I'll hurry back
with the result of yesterday's meeting, good or bad.
[Clement goes to the outer door where he
pauses.
SWEET LAVENDER 127
Dick.
[Exultinffli/.] I think the news will be a little
better than you expect, Clement, my boy ! [Sinr/-
ing, tvith a few steps of a danceJ] La-d-diddle !
La-d-diddle ! La-di-diddle-da !
Clement.
[Returning.'] Oh, Dick !
[Dick checks himself suddenly, and comes
down, letting the tea ru7i out of the spout
of the tea.pot.
Dick.
[Enquiringly.] Clement, my boy ? Oh !
[Replacing the teapot on the table and tak-
ing up the broom.
Clement.
[Taking a slip of paper from his waistcoat pocket.]
I think you ought to know that I'm going to leave
this at the newspaper office for insertion in to-
morrow's paper. [Reading.] "Sweet Lavender."
[Showing him the paper.] See, Dick? The first
and last letters — all the rest stars.
Dick.
Very ingenious.
Clement.
[Reading.] " R. P." (I've ventured to use your
initials, old fellow.) " R. P. entreats his old friend
and her daughter to communicate with him without
delay. R. P. is distracted at their absence."
128 SWEET LAVENDER
Dick.
[Dubiousli/ taking up the long broom.] R. P.
Clement.
I make you figure in it, Dick, to avoid distressing
Mr. Wedderimrn while lie's ill. You see, nobody
can possibly object to ijour being distracted.
Dick.
No, no — certainly not.
Clement.
Whereas my poor Lavvy will understand, if ever
she sees this, that it's I who am suffering. You
don't mind, Dick ?
Dick.
My boy, delighted.
Clement.
[^Pi'oducing Lavender's letter.'] I read her letter
every hour of the day. To think that she imagined
my love burnt so feebly that time or trouble could
blow it out !
Dick.
[Sweepifig 7incomfortabI/i/.] Ah'm !
Clement.
[Indignantly.'] But it's so unlike her, Dick. I
feel sure the confounded worldly philosophy was
crammed into her dear little head bv others.
SWEET LAVENDER 129
Dick.
\_Sweejping ivildli/.] Oh !
Clement.
My aunt declares it is all Mrs. Bolt's doing.
\_Returning the letter to his pocket fiercely. '\ I hope
so, for if I ever find out to the contrary — [Dick
sweeps up against Clement violently.'] Confound
you, Dick ! What are you doing ?
Dick.
You're hindering me ! You're delaying the house-
work ! Go out !
Clement.
Don't be angry with me. I'm going.
[Clement goes out.
Dick.
[IViping his forehead^ Phew! When he breaks
out like that, I — I always break out like this. If
he only suspected that I assisted at the cramming
of the philosophy !
[Mb. Bulger co?«es/rom Clement's room
carrying shaving paraphernalia.
Bulger.
[Very dejectedly.] Good-morning, Mr. Phenyl.
I rather fancy as Mr. Wedderburn is a trifle better
this morning. He demanded to be shaved up, sir
— always a sign of vitality in a gentleman.
[He goes to the door of Dick's bedroom, and
has his hand on the handle, when Dick
starts up with a cry of horror.
I30 SWEET LAVENDER
Dick.
Where are you going ? Come back !
Bulger.
Good gracious, sir ! I understood I was to go
once over Mr. 'Ale's chin. I perrysoom he is shar-
ing your room ?
Dick.
Oh, lor", Bulger ! While Mr. Wedderburn is here,
nursed by his relatives, Mr. Hale and I billet our-
selves at Chorley's Hotel, in Surrey Street. We've
handed that room over to jMrs. Gilfillian and her
daughter. You should be more careful, Bulger.
Bulger.
I'm extremely sorry ; though, at the worst, I
daresay as an old family man, I could have passed
it off with a pleasantry.
[TAere is a rat-tat at the outer door.
Dick.
The doctor, / know.
Bulger.
I'll go, sir. No noos of Mrs. Rolt, Mr. Phenyl ?
Dick.
\_Taking off his apron and putting on his coat.'\
No, Bulger.
Bulger.
\_Sighing.'\ Ah !
[Bulger opens the door and admits Dr.
Delaney, then goes out.
SWEET LAVENDER 131
Dk. Delaney.
[As he enters.'] Thank ye, thank ye. [Shaking
hands ivith Dick.] It's Mr. Phenyl. And how's
our friend Wedderburn this delightful morning ?
Dick.
Urn — pretty well for a man who appears to
grow a year older every day.
Dr. Delaney.
You don't say that ?
Dick.
I do. It seems to me, Doctor Delaney, that your
patient is aging on the tobogganing principle.
Dr. Delaney.
[Thoughtfully.'] Ah — um !
Dick.
[Enthusiastically.] But the ladies, doctor ! They
come out gloriously.
Dr. Delaney.
Bless 'em, they always do.
Dick.
1 wouldn't have believed it of aunt — Mrs. Gil-
fillian. But she seems to have bought the good-
will and fixtures of the business formerly carried
on by Miss Nightingale.
Dr. Delaney.
My dear Mr. Phenyl, all ladies are aloike when
132 SWEET LA PENDER
trouble takes tlieir hair a little out of curl. It's
vanity and self-oonsciousness that spoil a woman,
sir ; but when once she says to herself, " I don't
care a pin how I look," Heaven takes care that she
shall look like an angel. However, that's no busi-
ness of moine. I'll see Wedderburn.
Dick.
Oh, Doctor Delaney !
Dr. Delanet.
What is it ?
Dick.
Do you observe any marked improvement in me?
Dr. Delaney.
Ah, I'm forgettin' you entirely. [Feeling Dick's
pulse.] What news ?
Dick.
[In a whisper.] Not a drop for seven days.
That's a fearful drought, eh ? I hesitate even at
gravy.
Dr. Delaney.
And how do you feel ?
Dick.
A little weak, doctor — a little diluted. But I'm
firm.
Dr. Delaney.
Ah, you'll do very well. Mind, now, don't think
about it — and take plenty of exercise.
SWEET LAVENDER 133
[Delaxey raps at the door leading to Clem-
ent's room then opens it, and goes out.
Dick.
Exercise ! \_Removing his coat, then seizing his
broom and sweeping violently.'] Exercise ! [ Wip-
ing his brow again.] Phew ! This is rather dry
and dusty for my complaint. [^S^veep)ing.'] But
it's exercise.
[Minnie, dressed and simply ivearing a pretty
white apron, comes from Dick's room.
Minnie.
Oh, Mr. Phenyl, what are you doing ?
Dick.
\_Panting.'] Making up Doctor Delaney's pre-
scription. Please return to your room for a quarter
of an hour, Miss Giltillian.
Minnie.
[_Retreating.'\ Oh, the dust ! [Taking up the
hand-broom and dustpan from the sofa.] And look
here !
[Dick siveeps again. Mrs. Gilfillian,
plainly dressed and without her curls,
comes from Clement's room.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Mercy on us ! What's this ?
[She throws open the window.
Minnie.
[Laughing.] Mr. Phenyl is sweeping, mamma.
1 34 SIVEETLA VENDER
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Sweeping! Where's that woman McOstrich?
Dick.
I regret to say that Mrs. McOstrich is in a condi-
tion of matutinal inebriation.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Ugh, how horrible !
MiKNIE.
Oh, ma, how shocking !
Dick.
Ah ! ladies, it is far more shocking to one who
may claim some affinity with the misguided person
now occupying the basement.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Ah'm!
Minnie.
IKindly.'] Oh, Mr. Phenyl ! [To herself .] Poor
man!
Mrs. Gilfillian.
But this isn't sweeping, Mr. Phenyl — this is
stirring up.
Dick.
[Pe7iitently.2 No, Mrs. Gilfillian, it is sweeping.
It is a shame-faced effort to sweep away a pecu-
liarly useless and discreditable career. It is also an
attempt to throw dust in the eyes of two good-
natured ladies — that being the only metliod by
which I can hope to obtain their good opinion.
SWEET LAVENDER 135
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Bless the man I Take his broom away, Minnie
— take his broom away !
[Minnie takes the broom from Dick and goes
out with it.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
I wonder if I can guess what you allude to, Mr.
Phenyl.
Dick.
\_Resuming his coat.] Ah'm ! I'll allow you
three guesses, ma'am.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
On the night we heard of our misfortune we saw
you rather — at a disadvantage.
Dick.
Done, first time. I suppose I presented a shock-
ing spectacle.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
H'm ! Well, that's a week ago, Mr. Phenyl.
Now, Kome wasn't built in a day, but you can make
a new man out of unpromising material in a week
— and a new woman too — sometimes. Mr. Phenyl,
Vm not the woman I was a week ago — am I ?
Dick.
[Hesitating.] Well —
Mrs. Gilfillian.
[Sharply.] Am I, sir ?
136 SWEET LAVENDER
Dick.
No.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
I'm sure I'm not. Now I've lost all my money
by the failure of the Barnchester Bank, but some-
how I've felt in a kinder temper the last week than
I have for years. So I think, Mr. Phenyl, to some
natures even bankruptcy may be a blessing.
Dick.
Well, they both begin with a B.
Mrs. GrILFILLIAN.
As for you, my poor brother likes you — says you
read the paper to him so intelligently. \_Holding
out her hand to him.~\ And /like you. There, sir!
Dick.
[^Taking her hand gratefully. ~\ My dear aunt ! I
beg your pardon — my dear Mrs. Giliillian.
Minnie enters carrying two dusters.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
So we'll forget a week ago, Mr. Phenyl, for good.
And if at any time you feel you want — a cup of
cocoa, I know an old nurse who'll make it for you.
\^Taking a duster from Minnie.] Come, child, let's
get rid of some of Mr. Phenyl's dust.
Dick.
[To himself '\ Aunt! Who'd have thought it ?
Aunt ! \_Ther6 is a rat-tat-tat at the outer door.
SWEET LAVENDER 137
Mrs. Gilfillian.
\In a whisper.] We're not visible, Mr. Phenyl,
to anybody.
Dick.
[Going. ] No, certainly not.
Minnie.
[In a whisper.'] We're out, Mr. Phenyl — shop-
Dick.
pino-
[Draiving the curtain over the opening.] I should
rather think you were.
Minnie.
[To Dick.] Hush !
[Dick disappears behind the curtain and
opens the door, while Mrs. Gilfillian
and Minnie stand listening.
Dick.
[At the door.] How d'ye do ? How d'ye do ?
Mrs. Gilfillian.
[To Minnie, in a whisper.] Who is it ?
Dick.
[Out of sight.] No — went out shopping about
ten minutes ago.
Minnie.
[To Mrs. Gilfillian.] I don't know.
138 SWEET LA VENDER
Dick.
You'll find them both in the Lowther Arcade.
Oh!
\_The curtain is pushed aside and Horacp:
Bream enters.
Horace.
[As he enters.^ Smoke a cigar with you, Mr.
Phenyl, till they return.
Minnie and Mrs. Gilfillian.
Oh ! [Minnie throws away her duster.
Horace.
\_Seizing their hands.'\ My dear Mrs. Giltilliau !
My dear Miss Gilfillian !
[Dick returns much discomposed, gesticu-
lating to Mrs. Gilfillian and Minnie.
Dick.
\_Helplessly.'] Would come in !
Horace.
I am perfectly delighted to find that my friend
Phenyl was mistaken. I'm much earlier to-day
than usual.
[Minnie eniharrassed, shakes her head at
Horace.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Earlier than usual !
SWEET LA VENDER 139
Horace.
\Not seeing Minnie's signs.'] Yes. I invariably
call to inquire after Mr. Wedderburn during the
afternoon.
Minnie.
[^Turning away."] Oh !
Horace.
I shall be here again this afternoon.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
I haven't heard of your calling at all !
«
Minnie.
\^Confased.'] Oh, yes, mamma, Mr, Bream has
made the — usual — inquiries during the week,
generally while you have been resting. His cards
are somewhere.
Horace.
Oh, yes ; my cards are somewhere.
Dr. Delaney enters.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
[Angribj to herself, at Horace.] Oh, this man !
\_She goes to Delaney and they talk together.
Minnie.
^Eyeing Horace.] Oh! now he knows that
mamma didn't know. \To Horace with dignify.']
I hone, Mr. Bream, that you will forgive Mr.
I40 SWEET LAVENDER
Plienyl's lack of candour in telling you that
mamma and I were out shopping.
Dick.
\_To Umsdf.'\ Oh!
Minnie.
Perhaps it would have been better if he had
explained that we don't receive visitors at this
time of trouble and anxiety.
Dick.
\_Aghast.'\ I — why, you — I mean — There
now.
Horace.
\^Su'>'prlsed, to Minnie.] Why, Minnie — \^She
dratos herself up and looks froivningUj.'\ Miss
Gillillian, I never suspected that the happy hour
we have passed together every afternoon this
week, has been on my part an intrusion and on
yours a —
Minnie.
Oh — I — I've made every excuse for you —
knowing that you're an American. In trying to
avoid formality, perhaps I've been a little — a
little — a little —
Horace.
[Reproachfully.'] Well, a little —
[Dr. Delanet comes over to Minnie.
Dr. Del a net.
\_Quietly to Minnie.] I've a word or two to say
to Mr. Phenyl. I don't want your dear mother to
hear.
SWEET LA VENDER 141
[Minnie nods to Dk. Delaney, and goes to
where Mks. Gilfillian is sitting.
Horace.
[Following, taps Dick on the shoulder. 1 Mr.
Phenyl.
Dick.
[Looking tip."] Eh ?
Dr. Delaney.
[Bending over him.] I faucy there's something
worrying Mr. Wedderburn.
Dick.
"Well, I should think so !
Dr. Delaney.
What is it ?
Dick.
Sixpence in the pound.
Dr. Delaney.
Ah, I mean something not connected with divi-
dends at all. [Braiving Dick a little nearer.'] Mr.
Phenyl, I hear that Wedderburn has been rambling
a little about the woman who used to live down-
stairs — talking about her in his sleep.
Dick.
Ah, I dare say. His boy is in love with her
daughter, and that troubles him.
Dr. Delaney.
So Mrs. Gilfillian explains. But, Mr. Phenyl,
doesn't it strike you as rather odd that Mr. Wedder-
142 SWEET LA VENDER
burn should dream less of his bankruptcy than of
the \\-omaii whom I hear he happened to meet in
this room a week ago, and who disappeared imme-
diately afterwards ?
Dick.
\Startled.'\ Eh? Why, what — ?
Dr. Delanet.
Be quiet !
Mrs. Gilfillian.
[Rising^ Minnie, I mustn't waste my time any
longer.
Dr. Delaney.
[Tuminff to the others.] One moment, one mo-
ment ! I've got another patient here. Mr. Phenyl
has as much right to be ill as any of ye.
Dick.
[To himself.] What's he driving at.
[Mrs. Gilfillian, Minnie, and Horace
co7itinue talking.
Dr. Delaney.
Now. mee dear Mi". Phenyl, you have been
acquainted with this Mrs. Rolt for many years.
Do you know her history, sir ?
Dick.
[Agitatedly.] No — yes — a small portion of it.
Dr. Delaney.
Thank ye. The small portion of a woman's his-
tory which she confides to another is generally the
SWEET LAVENDER 143
Index. Now may I ask if tlie Index in your pos-
session goes down to the letter " W" ?
Dick.
\Sinking into the armchair with his hand to his
forehead.l Wedderburn ! Good gracious ! The
possibility never struck me ! Oh !
De. Delaney.
But you perceive the possibility ?
Dick,
Don't pump me, Dr. Delaney, please ! Confound
it, you wouldn't ask me to betray a woman's confi-
dence, by even a hint !
Dr. Delaney.
Not for the worrld ! [^Taking Dick's hand.]
Besides, afther all, perhaps this is no business of
moine. Good-morning, Mr. Phenyl. [To himself,
as he takes up his hat^ Now, if my theory is cor-
rect I wonder if I could contrive to do a little good
to a miserable man and an unhappy woman by a
bold stroke ? I'm inclined for the experiment.
Mrs. Gilfillian —
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Yes, doctor ?
Dr. Delaney.
[Taking her hand.] I've been thinking I shall
have you and your pretty daughter on my hands if
I don't take better care of ye.
144 SWEET LA VENDER
Mks. Gilfillian.
There, there — Minnie shall go into the Park
every afternoon.
Dr. Delaney.
Yes, and Minnie's mamma too. And ?o I've
arranged to send ye one of the dear good ladies
from my beautiful new Home.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Now, Doctor Delaney, I've told you —
Dr. Delaney.
[Persuasiveli/.'] Ah, now, just to enable you to
get the amount of fresh air which every woman in
her prime requires.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Well, do as you like, doctor.
Dr. Delaney.
[^Shaking hands.'\ I'll do that. Good-morning.
Mrs. Gilfillian, Minnie, and Horace.
Good-morning.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
[Goinff to Dick.] But your nurse won't get a
very cordial reception here, I'm afraid.
Dr. Delaney.
[To himself.'] Now that's just the point I'm a
little curious about. [He bvstles out.
SWEET LA VENDER 145
Mrs. Gilfillian.
I'll go to a Registry Office at once and hire a handy
girl, if there's one in London. I won't have that
degraded woman McOstrich in these rooms again.
\_Turnlng slio.rplij, she sees Minnie and Horace close
together.^ ]Minnie !
[Horace leaves Minnie quickly, and thrusts
himself half out of the window.
Minnie.
Mamma !
Mrs. Gilfillian.
\^Severely.~\ When Mr. Bream has terminated his
visit, perhaps in this hour of emergency you will
remember there is such a place as the pantry.
[Mrs. Gilfillian goes into Dick's room,
ivhich she is now occupying. Minnie
looks toivards Horace, ivhose body is half
out of the window, then at Dick, then at
her hands.
Minnie.
[^Sighing.'] Washing up is awfully trying for
one's hands.
Dick.
I'll help — shall I ?
Minnie.
What a good-natured man you are, Mr. Phenyl!
I'm so sorry I scolded you.
Dick.
Delighted.
146 SIVEET LA VENDER
Minnie.
But it was quite necessary to read Mr. Bream a
lesson.
Dick.
Oh, quite.
MiNNIK.
But I couldn't think of allowing you to assist to
wash up. I've got to be domesticated now, and I'd
better begin at the degrading part.
Dick.
Well, look here — let's halve it. One of us will
wash, the other will wipe.
Minnie.
\_Glancing towards Horace, abstractedly.'] It's
very thoughtful of you.
Dick.
Not at all — I take it for exercise. But mind,
I'm only an amateur.
Minnie,
Not letting anything drop is the great secret.
Which will you do, wash or wipe ?
Dick.
I'll do the wettest — that is, the wetter of the two.
Minnie.
You are good-natured — but both are equally un-
pleasant.
Dick.
Let's flutter for who does which.
SWEET LAVENDER 147
Minnie.
Flutter !
Dick,
Toss up a coin.
Minnie.
\_Glancing towards Horace — with dignity. '\ Oh
no, thank you, I couldn't do that. \_Seeing Hokace
is still leaning out of the window.'\ Be quick, I
don't mind.
Dick.
\^Producing a penny.'] ISTo'v, then. Britannia
washes, and the Queen wipes. \_Throwing up a
coiyi, and catching it smartly — to himself.'] I'm
really very much better. [To Minnie.] Miss Gil-
fillian — sudden death — you cry.
Minnie.
What ?
Dick.
\_Solemnly .] Sudden death — you cry.
Minnie.
Oh, how unkind of you to suggest such things
when Uncle Geoffrey is so unwell.
Dick.
You misunderstand me ! I mean, you guess —
head or tail.
Minnie.
\_With dignity.] Oh, head please.
Dick.
\_Referring to his coin.] Woman — you wash.
148 SWEET LAVENDER
Minnie.
{Disappointed.'] The other is a little drier.
Dick.
Very well, just as you like.
Minnie.
You are a good-natured man. \_Looking towards
Horace.] Mr. Bream is oblivious of everybody's
existence.
Dick.
{Knowingly.'] He doesn't know that aunt — that
Mrs. Gilfillian — has gone.
Minnie.
Mr. Phenyl !
Dick.
I didn't tell tales about you, did I ?
Minnie.
Really, Mr. Phenyl, I wish you wouldn't make
such inferences. I won't trouble you, thank you.
{She goes out indignantly.
Dick.
[ Calling after her. 2Jenitently. ] I beg your pardon,
Miss Gilfillian. [Disronsolateh/.'] I'm always put-
ting my foot in it. {Snatchivg vp a hall of wool
from the xvorT^-hasket on the table, and hurling it at
Horace's hack.'] It's his fault! {Following Min-
nie.] Miss Gilfillian.
[Dick goes out. Horack leaves the window
and picks tip the ball of wool.
SWEET LAVENDER 149
Horace.
Hallo ! Why, she must have thrown this ! Ah,
how playful she is at times. I bear no ill-will
towards Mrs. Gilfillian, but what a gay, high-spirited
girl Minnie would be if she were a thoroughly
qualified orphan. [Looking round.'] I guess she's
hiding around here somewhere.
[Minnie appears in the passage opening,
iviping a cup. She peeps into the room
and comes face to face with Horace.
Horace.
[Triumphantly holding up the hall of wool.'] Ha !
Ha! You imagined I didn't see you throw this,
but I did.
Minnie.
[Coldly.] I! Really. Mr. Bream ! Excuse me,
I'm occupied in the pantry.
Horace.
May I join you in the pantry ?
Minnie.
Oh, no, certainly not ; but if you'll wait here,
mamma won't be long.
[She retires, drawing the curtain over the
opening in Horace's face.
Horace.
[Angrily.] Mamma! Mamma! I am becoming
desperate. I can't sleep — I can't eat — I can't live
on anything but hope, and this girl is just starving
me.
150 SWEET LAVENDER
[^Sitting disconsolately, and looking up as
Minnie draws aside the curtain and
enters.
Minnie.
Ah! [^Demurely.'] Excuse me, I've come to fetch
something.
\_He rises. She goes right round the room
to the table.
Horace.
Minnie !
Minnie.
Mr. Bream !
\^She takes up the tray with the breakfast
things — and he intercepts her.
Horace.
I think you are the cruellest girl in this — old
country.
Minnie.
When one meets reverses and becomes poor, one
must expect to lose the good opinion of — friends.
Horace.
[^Taking the other side of the tray and holding it
with his hands over hers."] I don't call myself a
friend, Minnie.
Minnie.
I Sarcastically.^ Indeed? Of course one doesn't
know who are one's friends. Oh, you are hurting
my handS; Mr. Bream.
Horace.
[^Sarnestly.^ You have never permitted me to be
a friend. But you know perfectly well I am a —
SWEET LAVENDER 151
Minnie.
An acquaintance.
Horace. /
No — a lover.
Minnie.
Mr. Bream — sir !
Horace.
{^Emphatically.'] I repeat, a lover — a lover —
a lover. There, I ve said it.
Minnie,
Having said it, will you allow me to carry out
the tray ?
Horace.
Permit me ? \_IIe takes the tray and places it n
the table. She passes hlrti, and is going out when he
trims quickly, and taking her hand draws her back
into the room.] That's not fair. You must say
Yes to-day, or — I —
Minnie.
Or you start for New York next Saturday — I
know. You were going to start for New York next
Saturday when we first met you, months ago, if you
remember.
Horace.
Remember ! My heart keeps a diary in red ink.
Why don't you like me, Minnie ?
Minnie.
How unjust ! I like you as much as I can ever
like — any foreigner.
Horace.
Foreigner !
1 52 SWEET LAVENDER
Minnie.
I am essentially English, you know.
Horace.
Oh, yes. The Wedderburns were originally
Scotch, I believe.
Minnie.
Yes, I know, but —
Horace.
And your father was an Irishman.
Minnie.
I know — certainly — but —
Horace.
But you're essentially English. Ah, don't make
this an international question. If you marry me,
I'll wear Scotch tweed, and you'll never find out
the difference between —
Minnie.
Oh, thank you. I'm deeply sensible of the hon-
our you pay me, but I really could not marry an
American.
Horace.
Why, you don't mind flirting with one.
Minnie.
[^Indignantly. 1 Oh !
Horace.
You know you're a very different girl on the
stairs while your mother is asleep on this sofa.
SWEET LA VENDER 153
Minnie.
And this is my reward for not disturbing mamma!
Only an American would throw stairs in a girl's face.
Horace.
Miss Gilfillian, you are like the typical English
gentleman who says, ''Give me a home-made
watch " ! Nobody does give it to him, but he pays
sixty guineas for one, has his crest carved on it,
and is borne down on one side with the weight of
it for years. When it is not being cleaned, it en-
ables him to lose his train. At last it is stolen
from him in the crowd — so he swears a little, buys
a cheap American timepiece, and lives happily.
Miss Gilfillian, perhaps some day when you have
won and worn your home-made husband you'll give
a thought to the cheap but reliable American who
has now the honour to wish you good-bye.
Minnie.
I — I shall not say good-bye, or anything, after
such — unkindness. To — to — to be called a flirt !
A flirt ! Oh, dear, it's so hard !
\_She takes up the tray from the table and
backs towards Horace, who suddenly puts
his arm round her waist.
Horace.
Ah, forgive me !
Minnie.
Forgive you ! After such a cruel charge ! Re-
move your arm, Mr. Bream !
154 SWEET LA VENDER
Horace.
\Clasping her to him.'] I can't, Minnie, I can't.
Minnie.
And you know I can't drop the tray. \_Strug-
gling slightly.'] Oh, how un-English! '[^Calling.]
Mr. Phenyl !
Dick.
[^Outside.] Yes!
[Dick enters wiping a plate, and Hobace
retreats hastily.
Minnie.
Take this, dear Mr. PhenyL
Dick.
[^Taking the tray.] With pleasure.
[Minnie looks indignantly at Horace,
Mrs. Gilfillian enters, dressed for
going out.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
[^Looking from one to the other.] Minnie !
Minnie.
\_Embarrassed.] I — I'm teaching Mr. Phenyl
how to wash up, mamma.
Dick.
[To himself] Oh, I like that !
[Dick carries out the tray.
SWEET LAVENDER 155
Mrs. Gilfillian.
\_To herself P\ That young man still here. \To
Horace.] Mr. Bream, I shall be much obliged if
you'll give me your arm across the Strand.
Horace.
Certainly ! It will be the last opportunity I shall
have of rendering you even so slight a service.
[Minnie turns, listening.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Indeed !
Horace.
I start for N'York — [emphatically'] — on Wed-
nesday. [Minnie gives a stifled exclamation.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
We're very sorry — though, perhaps, you have
been wasting your time rather sadly.
Horace.
That notion has just struck me. Please say fare-
well for me to everybody. [Minnie looks at him
wistfully.'] And tell Mr. Wedderburn that I have
called every day this past week \_looking at Min-
nie] solely to enquire after him.
[Minnie retreats to the window-seat.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
[^Dubioicsly.'] Um ! I'm quite ready, Mr. Bream.
l_She goes out.
IS6 SWEET LA VENDER
Horace.
[Boivinff profoundly to Minnie.] Good-bye, Miss
Giimiian.
[_She rises with downcast eyes, and makes
him a stately courtesy.
Minnie.
[/n a low voice.'] Good-bye, Mr. Bream.
\_She resumes her seat, looking out of the
window. He goes to the door.
Horace.
[To Dick, shaking hands.] Good-bye, Mr.
Phenyl : sha'n't see you again on this side, sir.
[^ITe follows Mrs. Gilfillian ; Dick closes
the door after them.
Minnie.
[Tearfully.] Oh, I didn't mean it! I didn't
mean it ! Oh, come back, Horace ! Horace !
[_She sits at the writing-table, and writes
rapidly. Dick comes into the room,
polishing a teaspoon.
Dick.
[Eyeing Minnie.] Nice girl — but I am both
washing and wiping.
Minnie.
[ Writing.] " Never — start — for New York —
without me — Horace." [Rising with the note in her
SWEET LAVENDER 157
handr^ Give me something heavy, to weight this !
[^Snatching the spoon from Dick.] That'll do.
Dick.
Eh?
\Sh6 screws up the spoon in the paper and
runs up to the window.']
Minnie.
\^Looking out of the window.'] Ah ! [Calling
softly."] Horace ! Horace !
\^She throws out the spoon and paper.
Dick.
[To himself] That spoon belonged to my poor
mother.
Minnie.
[ Withdrawing from the window hastily.] Oh !
Mamma's got it.
Dick.
Glad to hear it.
Minnie.
Oh, Mr. Phenyl, run after Mr. Bream !
Dick.
[^Catching up his hat.'] Certainly. [^Giving her
the cloth he carries.'] You go on with the wiping.
What shall I say ?
Minnie.
Say I want him to inquire after Uncle Geoffrey
as usual.
158 SWEET LA VENDER
Dick.
\Oj>ening the door.'\ I know — half-past three
on the landing.
Minnie.
No, no ! Mr. Phenyl ! How dare you ! [Dick
returns, leaving the door open.'\ You needn't go,
thank you. \_Returning to the ivindov>seat.'\ I
won't humble myself ! I won't !
[Lavender appears outside the door. She
peeps in, then comes into the room, and,
seeing Dick, utters a cry and advances to
him.
Lavender.
Mr. Phenyl !
Dick.
[^Embracing her. '\ Lavvy ! \_Excitedly.'\ Why,
Lavvy, where have you come from ? where are you
going to ? what are you doing ? where's your
mother ? Why don't you answer me, Lavvy ?
Here — what — oh !
Minnie.
\_Coming from the window.'] Lavender I
Lavender,
\_Going to her."] Oh, Miss Gilfillian ! Miss
Gilfillian !
Minnie.
[^Taking Lavender in her arms — to Dick.]
Shut the door ! [Dick goes to the door and closes
SWEET LAVENDER 159
it. Minnie places Lavender in the armchair, and
removes her hat.'] Oh, poor Clement ! How happy-
he will be ! How happy he will be !
Dick.
[Returning breathlessly ^^ I was about to put a
question to you, Lavvy. Where have you come
from ? where are you —
Minnie.
Oh, hush, Mr. Phenyl ! Lavender will tell me.
\_Tenderhj.'\ Where have you come from, dear ?
Dick.
My question !
Lavender.
\_Faintly.'] I've come from Miss Morrison's
School at Highgate, where mother took me when
we left here. I — I've run away, Miss Giltillian.
Dick.
Eun away !
Minnie.
Hush, Mr. Phenyl !
Dick.
Yes, but run away I
MiNNIB.
Be quiet !
Dick.
Run away.
i6o SWEET LAVENDER
Minnie.
Hush!
Dick.
Well, but — nin away. That's pretty serious.
Lavender.
I've seen a newspaper with something in it
about a great misfortune happening to — Mr.
Wedderburn's bank, and how his partners have
cheated and ruined him. And T know that, if Mr.
Wedderburn is poor, Mr. Hale is poor ; and I can't
rest till I've found out if it's true. Is Mr. Hale
poor, Miss Gilfillian ?
Minnie.
Yes, we're all poor now, Lavvy.
Lavender.
Oh, Clement !
Minnie.
Even I do the work your little hands used to do.
Dick.
I wash up.
Minnie.
Hush, Mr. Phenyl, please.
Dick.
But why didn't you drop a line to me quietly,
Lavvy ? There'll be awful trouble over this.
Lavender.
I began a letter to Clement yesterday, and the
girl who lent me the paper and the envelope told
SWEET LA VENDER i6i
Miss Morrison, who scolded me dreadfully. But I
got out of the house. If it had been a prison, Miss
Gilfillian, I should have got out, now that Mr. Hale
is in trouble.
Dick.
Here's a pretty kettle o' fish ! You know you'll
have to be sent back, Lavvy.
MiXNIE.
Nothing of the kind.
Lavender.
I'll go back when I've seen him for five minutes.
Minnie.
[Indig7iantli/.'] Mr. Phenyl, you're positively
heartless !
Dick.
[Piteousli/.] Heartless! /heartless! You don't
know what I know. I mean, I'm a man ; you're
only a couple of girls — a girl and a half I may say.
[ fVith his hand to his head.] Oh ! where's Ruth's
secret going to now !
Minnie.
I admire your spirit, Lavender, if Mr. Phenyl
doesn't.
Lavender.
Ah, I've no spirit at all. Miss Gilfillian. [Minnie
takes her in her arms and caresses her.] But mother
hid me away because I was too poor and humble
for Mr. Hale — and so I was a week ago. But now
i62 SWEET LA VENDER
everything's changed, and it would be dreadful if
he said to himself: " Lavender was taken from me
because I was rich, yet she can't find her own way
back now that I'm in need."
Minnie.
[^Enthusiastically.'] Clem shall hear that from
your lips within an nour !
Dick.
[^Sharply.'] No, he sha'n't.
Minnie.
[Hotly.'] He shall, Mr. Phenyl.
Lavender.
Why, Mr. Phenyl, you used not to be unkind to
me.
Dick.
[Falteringly.] No, Lavvy, but neither of us is
your mother. We must always consult our mothers.
Minnie.
[Glaring at Dick.] Where is your mother,
Lavvy ?
Dick.
[Glaring back at Minnie.] Another of my
questions !
Lavender.
I mustn't tell anybody — I've promised.
Minnie.
Very well. All you require in this matter is a
friend.
SWEET LA VENDER 163
Dick.
[Putting his arm round Lavender.] I quite
agree with you, Miss Gilfillian — a friend.
Minnie.
[Putting her arm round Lavender.] A protector.
Dick.
Yes, somebody who wasn't born two or three
weeks ago.
Minnie.
I'm of age.
Dick.
Well, look at me.
Minnie.
But you're not a woman !
Dick.
As it happens — as it happens !
[A gong hell is heard striking twice.
Minnie.
[To Dick, triumphantly.] Ha ! ha ! Uncle Wed-
derburn's bell — twice ! It's for you to read the
newspaper.
Lavender.
[Frightened.] Is Mr. Wedderburn here ?
Minnie.
[Gaibj.] Yes, we're all here. Run along, Mr.
Phenyl.
1 64 SWEET LAVENDER
Dick.
[Enraged.] Miss GilfiHian, you will regret this
interference.
Minnie.
[ Wifh her aryn round Lavender's v^aist, saucily.]
Kegret is a woman's natural food, Mr. Phenyl —
she thrives on it.
Dick.
Till it becomes remorse, Miss Gilfillian.
Minnie,
Which is only a mild form of indigestion.
Dick.
[Furiously.] Oh !
[He goes into Clement's room.
Minnie.
[Triumphantly.] Ha, ha ! [Assisting Lavendeb
to put on her hat.] Now for poor Clem.
Lavender.
Oh, yes — where is he ?
Minnie.
Gone to the lawyer's. We'll run out and meet
him on his way home, and then we'll sit down in
the gardens.
Lavender,
What makes you so kind ?
SWEET LA VENDER 165
Minnie.
A fellow-feeling. I'm unhappy in my love, too.
Lavender.
[Putting her arms round Minnie's neck-l Oh !
Tell me.
Minnie.
He's Mr. Bream. I said " No " to him, and he
believed me, in a foolish American way he has.
Lavender.
Oh, we ought always to speak the truth. Why,
directly Clement asked me, I said " Yes."
Minnie.
Well, Lavvy, at a big dinner the sweets are always
brought round twice, and I thought — I thought —
[Whimpering.'] I'm a wretched girl.
Lavender.
[Affectionately.'] Don't cry ! Don't cry !
Minnie.
I forgot that if the sweets do come round again,
other ladies have been digging spoons in.
Lavender.
Is he far away ?
Minnie.
Yes — he's in the Strand now.
Lavender.
Let us go after him with Clement.
l66 SWEET LA VENDER
MiNNIK.
But wouldn't that look as if — ?
Lavender.
Yes, it would rather look as if —
Minnie.
Oh, then, I couldn't.
Lavender.
Yes, but if we met him we could walk past.
Minnie.
{^Hugging Lavender.] Oh, you darling! I'm
so fond of you.
The door of Clement's rooin opens, and Geoffrey
Wedderburn enters, folloived by Dick, carry-
ing some books and newspapers under hh arm.
Wedderburn looks much older than before, his
hair being grey and his voice and manner feeble.
Minnie.
[To Lavender.] Uncle Geoffrey I
Lavender.
[CTtn^'in^r ^0 Minnie.] Oh!
Dick.
[To himself] Oh, dear !
[Dick tvaves the girls away. Weddeb-
BURN walks slowly.
SWEET LAVENDER 167
Wedderburn.
[Seeing Minnie.] Ah, Minnie, my dear.
Minnie.
[Going to him.'] Why, uncle !
Wedderburn.
[Fatting her cheek.'] Ah, I can't submit to be
nursed and cosseted any longer. I — I — shall go
down to Barnchester to-morrow to face the people,
and — and to see about other things. [Seeing
Lavender.] Who's that young lady, my dear ?
Minnie.
[Bringing Lavender /ori^arc?.] This is — a
friend of mine, uncle.
[Wedderburn holds out his hand. Lav-
ender ^w^s her hand in his, timidly.
Wedderburn.
I'm very glad to see Minnie's friend.
Lavender.
[With a courtesy.] Thank you, sir.
Wedderburn.
I've been rather ill, my dear, but the doctor says
I may go into the gardens while the sun is out.
Will you walk on one side of me, with Minnie on
the other ?
Lavender.
I — I would, sir — if my mother would let me.
1 68 SWEET LAVENDER
Weddekburn.
Your mamma will let you if she's a kind mamma.
If not, I shall have to put up with Mr. Richard.
[Dick assists Wedderburn into the arm-
chair.
Wedderburn.
\_Gratefully, to Dick.] And Mr. Richard's a
dreadful fellow — such a bear. Aren't you, Rich-
ard — eh ?
Minnie.
[/?i a whisper to Lavender, pointing to the door
of Dick's room.'] That's my room, now. Come
with me. \_The two girls go out quietly.
Dick.
[To himself looking after Minnie and Laven-
der.] Girls will do anything. I begin to have a
better opinion of myself, now that I've mixed more
with girls.
Wedderburn.
Now, then, Mr. Richard.
Dick.
\_Taking up a newspaper.] What'll you have, sir ?
Wedderburn.
Anything referring to the failure of Wedder-
burn's bani.?
SkVEET LAVENDER 169
Dick.
^Opening the paper uncomfortably. To himself. ~\
Ahem ! This daily invention of favourable -com-
ments on Wedderburn's neglect of his business
rather taxes my imagination. Ready, sir ?
Wedderburn.
Yes, yes, Mr. Richard.
Dick.
H'm ! [To himself] Hallo ! Here is a short
leader. [Reading.'] "It will not be difficult to
find an excuse for Mr. Wedderburn's ignorance of
the affairs of the bank."
Wedderburn.
\_Eagerly.] Ah! That's good — that's just.
Dick.
\_To himself] It will be difficult, they say here.
Wonderful what a word does.
\_There is a rat-tat-tat at the outer door.
Dick.
[^Laying down the paper.] Excuse me.
Wedderburn.
[To himself] It will not be difficult to find an
excuse for Mr. Wedderburn — an excuse for Mr.
Wedderburn.
[Dick opens the door. Dr. Delanet and
Ruth, dressed as a nurse, but veiled, are
otiiside.
170 SWEET LAVENDER
Dr. Delaney.
Thank ye, Mr. Phenyl. Thank ye. [Cheerily,
pointiiKj to Weddkkbukn.] Come, now, look at
that ! That's the sort of constitution that's the
ruin of my profession.
[Dick closes the door. Ruth touches his arm.
Ruth.
\^In a whisper. '\ Mr. Phenyl!
Dick.
Ruth!
Dr. Delaney.
Wedderburn, I've brought ye a lady from my
new Home, just as a companion for your sister and
Minnie. I've told ye about my beautiful Home.
Wedderburn.
Thank 3'^ou, Delaney, but I'm quite strong now.
Dr. Delaney.
I know that — but it's you strong chaps that
require looking after. Think of the ladies —
they're getting as white as the ceiling ; and poor
Mr. Phenyl, who's hoarse with reading aloud to
you. Mr. Phenyl. \_Beckoni71g to Dick.
Wedderburn.
[Feebly to Ruth.] I hope I wasn't discourteous,
ma'am. Every one is very good to me — very good
to me.
SWEET LAVENDER 171
Ruth.
[Jti a low voice.'] Mr. Wedderburn.
[Wedderburn starts and looks up.
Wedderburn.
\_In a whisper.'] Who is it ?
Ruth.
Ruth.
Wedderburn.
Ruth — Ruth!
Ruth.
I am the nurse that Doctor Delaney speaks of.
Do you wish me to remain, Mr. Wedderburn ?
Wedderburn.
\_'\¥ith an effort, in a low voice.] Yes, Ruth.
[^He sinks back into his chair, staring for-
ward. She removes her bonnet arhd cloak.
Dr. Delaney.
^Softly to Dick.] That's all right. [Aloud.'] I'll
be with ye again in ten minutes, Wedderburn.
\Nudrji71g Dick.] A delicate, but successful ex-
periment. Come, I'll tell ye how I put the pieces
of the puzzle together.
[Dick and Delaney go into the otJwr room.
Ruth.
If Mr. Phenyl was reading to you shall I take
his place ?
I7» SWEET LA VENDER
Wedderburn.
\I'assing his hand across his broiv.^ You are
merciful to me, Ruth. You come to me when I am
ill, broken, in misfortune.
EUTH.
It is my calling now to soften pain, to try to
banish suffering.
Wedderburn.
But I — I ruined your life for you. Do you for-
get that ?
Ruth.
No — I remember it. A week ago I had every
reason to fly from this house, where I had lived
undisturbed and peacefully for so many years ; but
when the good doctor told me you were lying here,
stricken down, I remembered — I remembered.
\_C0v6ri71g her face with her hands.
Wedderbubn.
Ruth, my girl.
Ruth.
l^Mecoverinrf herself, and laying her hand upon his
arm.'] Ah, I am forgetting why I am here. The
doctor will scold me.
Wedderburn.
For what ? For helping to ease my heart ?
Ruth, I have suffered. I have stared the world in
the face as if I were an honest man, and bragged
of my shrewdness and hard common-sense. I have
only been playing a loud tune to drown my con-
science. I — I have suffered.
SWEET LAVENDER IT^
Ruth.
Hush, Mr. Wedderburn, hush ! Not now !
Wedderburn,
Ruth, I have never forgotten the woman I be-
trayed and broke my promise to, eighteen years
since. I have never forgotten the time when you
asked me if I was ashamed of the poor girl who
hung upon my arm in the lanes about Barnchester,
and the answer I gave you. Your look of shame
and reproach as you left me has been always with
me, and it was the ghost of that look which struck
me down here, a week ago.
\_Burying his face in his handkerchief.
Ruth.
You've been too hard upon yourself, Mr. Wedder-
burn. You were right — I was not a fit wife for you.
And now we are growing old ! Forget it and suffer
no more.
\_She breaks down and leans her head upon
the back of the chair, weeping.']
Wedderburn.
But why talk of my sufferings, Ruth ? What
have yours been ?
Ruth.
Less than I deserved — because you know, sir,
Heaven had mercy upon me, and consoled me.
Wedderburn.
Ah ! I remember. They call you Mrs. Rolt here
— you were Ruth Rawdou at Barnchester. You
174 SWEET LAVENDER
are a widow, with a daughter whom Clement has
become attached to. I remember.
\_She goes hack a step or two, staring! at him.
Ruth.
[Under her breath.] Mr. Wedderburn — I am
not a widow — I have never married.
Wedderbubn.
Never — married.
Ruth.
[ With a low cry.] Oh, Mr. Wedderburn ! I call
myself a widow to keep my child ignorant of my
disgrace. It would kill me for her to know. [In a
whisper.li But — Lavender is more than seventeen
years old.
Wedderburn.
[Repeating the words to himself.'] More than
seventeen years old. [Looking at her for a moment,
then stretching out his arms appealingly.] Ruth —
Ruth! Tell me! [She slowly sinks on her knees
beside him.]
Ruth.
Geoffrey, I thought you guessed I had been
faithful to my first love. I took my secret with
me from Barnchester, because I was too proud to
beg for compassion ; but when you found mother
and child here, you might have guessed the truth.
[Turning away, weeping.] Ah, how lightly you've
always thought of me !
SWEET LA VENDER 175
"Wedderburn,
[^Taking her hand.'] Ruth, I am utterly bank-
rupt. I have lost strength, fortune, comfort — all
that makes age endurable. But what I've lost now
is little compared to what I flung away eighteen
years ago — the love of a faithful woman.
Lavender enters with Minnie, both dressed
for going out.
Ruth.
Lavender !
Lavender.
\_Going to Ruth.] Mother, dear mother, don't be
angry with me ! Mother !
Wedderburn.
[J?i a whisper to himself, sinking into the arm-
chair.'] My child !
Clement enters hurriedly.
Minnie.
[^Running up to him.] Clement ! Look here !
[Lavender goes to Clement and clings to
him.
Clement.
Lavender ! Mrs. Rolt !
Lavender.
Ah, Clement !
Dick and Dr. Delaney enter.
176 SWEET LAVENDER
Lavender.
\Fass{onately.'\ Mother ! I read that Mr. Hale
had become poor, and I came here this morning to
ask if it was true. It is true ! There's no reason
for separating us now. Clement, no one shall take
me away again if you wish me to stay. I'll \i poor
with you. I'll share all your struggles. I'll slave
for you, I'll be a true patient companion. And if
ever you're rich again, and tire of me, as they say
you will, I'll remember the days when you loved
me, and won't complain — I promise. Mother, you
mustn't treat me as a child any longer — I'm a
woman. I can't go back to Miss Morrison's ! I
won't ! Clement, keep me with you ! Keep me
with you ! Keep me with you !
\_There is a knock at the door.
Clement.
[^Putting his arm round Aer.] For ever. Lavender,
for ever. Father, you hear! Father!
[Lavender sits in the window recess with
Clement, and they are joined by Dick and
Dr. Delaney. There is another knock at
the door, Minnie opens it, and Mrs. Gil-
fillian enters, followed by Horace.
Minnie.
Mamma ! Oh, look here !
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Mrs. Rolt !
Minnie.
[Seeing Horace.] Oh, Horace ! Horace !
[She e7iibraces Horace impulsively.
SWEET LAVENDER 177
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Good gracious me ! "Why, Mrs. Rolt, you're
surely not the nurse Doctor Delaney promised us ?
Dr. Delaney.
\_Going to Mrs. Gilfillian and taking her
hands.] Mee dear lady, with the acuteness which
is your characteristic, you've hit it. Mrs. Rolt
came into my beautiful Home a week ago. She
didn't wish it known, and it was no business of
moiue to divulge it. But when I wanted to pre-
serve the roses in your own cheeks, ma'am, it was
Mrs. Rolt who volunteered to help in a work for
which all humanity should be grateful.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
[To Ruth, shaking ha7ids with her.'] Well, I'm
sure I'm much obliged to Mrs. Rolt. \_Looking
round and discovering Lavender.] Why, here's
your daughter !
Dr. Delaney.
Oh, yes, ma'am, we allow beautiful flowers in a
sick room — [^pointing to the window] — if you
keep the window open.
Ruth.
\_Falteringly.'] I — I did my best. Lavender
has been away — at school.
Dr. Delaney.
But the poor little thing chirrups for her mother
— hen and chick, ma'am.
178 SWEET LAVENDER
Mrs. Gilfillian,
{JDuhlouslyr^ Urn — and she follows you here.
A coincidence.
Dr. Delaney.
\_Stroking his chin.'] Coincidences occur in the
best regulated families. The most delightful
part of this one is that Mrs. Rolt happens to be an
old acquaintance of Mr, Wedderburn's.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Old — old acquaintance ?
Wedderburn.
Yes, Clara, an old acquaintance. \^He rises, sup-
porting himself upon Ruth's arm.'] Clement —
Lavender !
E.UTH.
\_Softly to Wedderburn,] My secret, my se-
cret ! You'll not —
[Clement and Lavender come to them.
Wedderburn.
\_Falteringly.'] Clara, my dear boy, and you,
my dear girl, it is quite true. I knew Mrs. Rolt
years ago, when she was — unmarried. This lady
did me the honour to believe in me, to love me,
until, very wisely, she perceived that I was not
worth her devotion — and we parted. But, Clem-
ent, you are wiser, better, braver than I was. Boy
as you are, you have secured the prize I missed,
by discovering that the only rank which elevates a
SWEET LAVENDER 179
woman is that which a gentle spirit bestows upon
her. Lavender, my dear, come here. [Taking her
hand as she comes to him timidly.'] Lavender, you
will be my boy's wife, so you must try to forgive
my old unkiudness to your mother, and learn to
call me father.
\_He draws her to him and kisses her. Then
Ruth takes Lavender aside.
Clement.
[To Wedderbukn.] Ah, dad, didn't I describe
her faithfully ? Isn't she sweet and good ?
Wedderburn.
Yes, Clement ; but, Clara, what are we to say to
Minnie ?
Mrs. Gilfillian.
{Testily.'] There, don't talk about Minnie! I
wash ray hands of her and everybody else. _ It
appears I know nothing about anyone or anything.
I ought to have been buried years ago. As for my
daughter, she throws a letter out of a window ad-
dressed to a gentleman — it falls into my hands,
and I, having left my spectacles at home, actually
ask that very gentleman to read it. Don't talk to
me, anybody.
Minnie.
Don't be sorry about me, Uncle Geoffrey. Of
course, I've been very fond of Clem for many years,
but — I'm engaged to Mr. Bream, now.
Wedderbuen.
To Mr. Bream ?
i8o SWEET LAVENDER
Minnie.
\Looking toxuards Horace.] Horace ! Advance !
Wedderburn.
And how long has this been going on ?
Horace.
Well, it has been going backwards and forwards
and all round for some months, but it has only-
been going on for aboiit —
Mrs. Gilfillian.
For about ten minutes !
Horace.
\To Dick.] Mr. Phenyl. \_Rehirning the tea-
spoon.'] I am eternally obliged to you — your
property, I believe.
Dick.
Oh, thank you. [Looking at the spoon.'] Bad
omen ! Dented !
[^There's a rat-tat at the door. Clement
opens the door and admits Mr. Maw.
Clement.
Dad, here's Mr. Maw with the news !
Maw.
\^Breathlessly going to Wedderburn and shak-
ing hands with him.] Mr. Wedderburn, I am
pleased, I am delighted to acquaint you with the
result of the private meeting of the creditors of
the Barnchester Bank. \_To Dick, who is walking
away.] Ah, don't go, Mr. Phenyl, please.
SWEET LA VENDER i8i
Dick.
[^Coming to Maw, uneasily.'] Awfully busy —
back in five minutes.
Maw.
\_Holding his armJ] No, no. The principal cred-
itors, animated by the example of one of their num-
ber, have resolved to put Wedderburn's Bank upon
its legs again — with every prospect of restoring
confidence, sir, and discharging its old responsi-
bilities.
Mr. Maw !
Wedderburn.
Maw.
And who do you think has turned the tide of
Barnchester opinion in your favour, sir ? [Pointing
to Dick.] Mr. Phenyl, who has formally acquitted
the Bank of the liability of the amount of the late
Mr. Vipont's fortune.
Wedderburn.
Richard! [Dick comes to Wedderburn, who
takes his hand, and sinks back into the armchair.
Ruth comes quickly to Wedderburn.]
Mrs. Gilfillian.
[Throwing her arms round Dick's neck.'] Oh,
Mr. Phenyl !
Dick.
[ Uncomfortably.] Thank you — thank you.
182 SWEET LA VENDER
Mrs. Gilfillian.
Oh, what a lot of good there is in you ! \&till
clinging to Dick.] Be quiet ! Let me have my
cry out.
Dick.
[Quietli/ to Clement.] Clement, my boy — aunt!
Clement.
[To Lavender.] What did I always say Dick
was!
Horace.
Mr. Phenyl, you are worthy of our side.
Minnie.
[Impulsively kissing Dick.] Dear Mr. Phenyl.
Dick.
Thank you — thank you. [Leading her across to
Horace.] I beg your pardon.
Wedderburn.
Mr. Phenyl — ^Richard — you will not, I hope,
refuse to make your home with us at Barnchester.
We live to repay you for your sacrifice, and we
shall never cease to point to you as our best friend.
Dick.
Thank you, Mr. Wedderburn, but I've no fancy
for the searching light of the country. Notwith-
standing some slight moral repairs, the seams of
my coat are prematurely white, my character radi-
cally out at elbow. If you choose to continue my
SWEET LAVENDER 183
aoquaintance, you will find me here ; and if you'll
be seen with me abroad, why, we'll walk down
Fleet Street.
Horace.
I share your devotion to this old city, Mr. Phenyl.
London has given rae the most fascinating compan-
ion.
Dr. Delaney.
London, sir ! Why, London contains the largest
number of patients of any civilised city in the world.
Mrs. Gilfillian.
And the best-hearted doctors in the world.
Minnie.
It is always very full of Americans. \_Putting
her hand in Horace's.] And some people like
Americans.
"Wedderburn.
Yes, yes, we'll speak well of London. For in
this overgrown tangle some flowers find strength to
raise their heads — the flowers of hope and atone-
ment. \_Taking Ruth's hand and holding it. To
Layender.] What do you think, my child ?
Lavender.
I think, sir — [going towards Clement] — what-
ever Clement thinks, always.
Clement.
And I agree with you, father — London is a most
l84 SWEET LAVENDER
beautiful garden. [^Taking Dick's hand.'] Hasn't
it grown Dick here ? \_Drawing Lavender to him.']
And ah, dad ! you can even pluck sweet Lavender
in the Temple.
THB EKD.
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BOSTON, MASS.
a, W, linnro's Paps
$ntt> so €tnt$i OEat^
THP MAAI^TDiTP Farce In Three Acts. Twelve males, four
lllC iIlAUUll\AIL> females. Costumes, modem; scenery, all
interior. Plays two hours and a halt
TBB NOTORIODS MBS. EBBSMITB ^^^l^^^l^^.
Costumes, modem ; scenery, all interiors. Plays a full evening.
THP PHflFTMlATF Pl^y in Four Acts. Seven males, five females.
lilC r&uri4UAXl4 scenery, three interiors, rather elaborate ;
oostiunes, modem. Plays a full evening.
TBE SCBOOIMISTRESS "^S^^^^^-^,^,
three interiors. Flays a full evening.
TBE SECOND MRS. TANQDERAY ^^^IT,^^^
tumes, modem ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening.
SWFFT I AVENDER C°°^®^y ^ Three Acts. Seven males, four
JTTECi i#ATlrlilll.B fgmaigg^ Scene, a single interior; costumes,
modem. Plays a full evening.
TUP TIMFS Comedy in Four Acts. Six males, seven females.
*■•"* l»«*l<»' H^»Ti« a alTiorlnlntftHorf ftoatniriAs. modern. Plavs a
full evening.
Scene, a single interior; costumes, modern. Plays a
TFTF WFAKFR SFX comedy in Three Acts. Eight males, eight
lUC nCAHIift JCA fgmj^iga. Costumes, modem ; scenery, two
interiors. Plays a full evening.
A WIFE WITBOCT A SMILE "^'Z^^^^:,
modem ; scene, a single interior. Plays a full evening.
Sent prepaid on receipt of price by
B^alter % iBafier a Company
No. 5 Hamiltom Place, Boston, Massachusetts
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY
Los Angeles
This book is DUE on the last date stamped below.
teT)LD
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NOV 30 1975
'0 1970
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lIKTJn^OW
% SEP 3
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JUL 10).
RECD
JUN 8 1984
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4
DEC 2 8 1979
Form L9-32m-8,'57(C8680s4)444
ocui. ^icpaiu uu receipt ui puce oy I
l^altet ^. 'Bafiet a Company 1
No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts !
■4-llK LlHK ^titfc
inSIVEKSri Y OF CALIFOBKZl
LOS ANGfiJLfiti ^
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3 1158 00534 1
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