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.
 
 New Plays for Girls' Schools 
 
 By Elsie Fogerty and others 
 
 The following adaptations from standard plays, classical and modem, 
 have been specially arranged for amateur performance in girls' schools. 
 The text is accompanied in all cases by all necessary plates and diagrams, 
 and by full and minute marginal notes and instructions for production. A 
 copious introduction gives a full description of the stage, the lighting, the 
 costumes, properties, both stage and hand, and answers in advance all 
 possible questions that may come up in the process of rehearsal. In all 
 respects they are the most complete and helpful versions of plays ever 
 offered for acting. 
 
 The Alkestls of Euripides The Antigone of Sophocles 
 
 Adapted by Elsie Fogerty Adapted by Elsie Fogerty 
 
 Nine characters and chorus. Eleven characters and chorus. 
 
 Plays an hour and a half. Plays two hours. 
 
 Firice, 2^ cents Price, zj cents 
 
 Scenes Prom the Qreal Novelists 
 
 Adapted by Elsie Fogerty 
 
 Scenes from The Abbott, by Scott. "The Changing of the Keys." 
 
 Seven characters — plays forty minutes. 
 Scene from The Mill on the Floss, by George Eliot. " Mrs. 
 
 Pullet's New Bonnet." Five characters — plays twenty minutes. 
 Scene from Adam Bede, by George Eliot. " Mrs. Poyser has her 
 
 Say." Five characters — plays twenty-five minutes. 
 
 Scene from A Christmas Carol, by Dickens. " The Cratchits' 
 
 Christmas Dinner." Eight characters — plays forty minutes. 
 
 Price, 23 cents 
 
 The Masque of Comas The Enterprise of the Mayflower 
 
 By Milton. Adapted by Lucy Chater In Four Acts, by Amice Macdonell 
 
 Nine characters and chorus. Plays For Children. Fourteen characters, 
 forty minutes ; with music. Plays an hour an a half. 
 
 Price, 2S cents Price, 2J cents 
 
 Sent post-paid by mail on receipt of price 
 
 BAKER, 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Mass.
 
 Two New Prompt Books 
 
 Edited by 
 GRANVILLE BARKER 
 
 THE WINTER'S TALE 
 
 By William Shakespeare 
 
 An acting tdU'ion iv'tth a producer' i preface by Granville Barktr 
 
 With Costume Designs by Albert Rothenstein 
 As produced by Lillah McCarthy at the Sa-voy Theatre, London 
 
 An admirable stage version of this play suitable for school performance, 
 if desired, under simplified conditions as to scenery. Mr. Rothenstein's 
 illustrations contain many helpful suggestions as to costuming. 
 
 Price, 2J cents 
 
 TWELFTH NIGHT 
 
 By William Shakespeare 
 
 An acting edition tvith a producer'' % preface by Granville Barker 
 With Illustrations and Costume Designs by Norman Wilkinson 
 As produced at the Savoy Theatre, London, by Lillah McCarthy 
 
 Uniform in appearance and style with the above and similarly helpful 
 for performance by amateurs as well as by professional talent. 
 
 Price, 2S cents 
 
 Mr. Barker's " producer's prefaces " are a trial step in the direction of 
 providing less experienced actors and managers of the great plays with 
 the results of an expert consideration of them from an acting standpoint. 
 Like Miss Fogerty's admirable work in connection with the five plays 
 listed elsewhere, they are designed not merely to answer the questions 
 that must arise but to put the inexperienced producer into such a relation 
 with the text that his own intelligence will be able to cope with his prob- 
 lem without help or suggestion. One learns how a man like Mr. Barker 
 approaches a play with the idea of staging it, and so how another may do 
 the same thing. In this they will be seen to be truly and genuinely 
 educational as well as merely helpful. 
 
 Sent postpaid by mail on receipt of price 
 
 Walter H. Baker & Co., 5 Hamilton Place 
 
 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. 
 
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 '0 1970 
 
 
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 JUL 10). 
 
 RECD 
 
 JUN 8 1984 
 
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 DEC 2 8 1979 
 
 
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