PRESERVING 
 
 MR. PANMURE 
 
PRESERVING 
 
 MR. PANMURE 
 
 A COMIC PLAY 
 fl n jfour Bets 
 
 BY 
 ARTHUR W. PINERO 
 
 CHICAGO 
 THE DRAMATIC PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
COSTRiGHT, 19.1O, .by ABfTHtJR PlNBRO 
 
ft? 
 
 This play was produced in 
 London, at theComedyTheatre, 
 on Thursday, January 19, 
 1911; and in New York, at 
 the Lyceum Theatre, on 
 Tuesday, February 27, 1912. 
 
 331055 
 
THE PERSONS OF THE PL A Y 
 
 THE RIGHT HON. REGINALD STULKELY, M.P. 
 TALBOT WOODHOUSE (His private secretary) 
 ST. JOHN PANMURE, J.P. 
 ALFRED HEBBLETHWAITE, M.P. 
 HUGH LORING 
 
 BRABNER ) 
 
 KlTTS \ Cutler and footman at " The delivers ") 
 
 GRANT (Servant at Mr. Stuikeley'i) 
 
 MRS. PANMURB 
 
 MYRTLE (Her daughter) 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE (A*/v. Panmure's aunt] 
 
 DULCIE ANSTICE (Mrs. Panmure's sister) 
 
 Miss STULKE'LEY 
 
 JOSEPHA QUARENDON 
 
 The scene is laid first at " The Clenvers, " To Us hunt d^Arcy, 
 near Polehampton, and afterwards at Mr. Stulkeley's house 
 in London. 
 
 The curtain will be lowered for a moment in the course of 
 the Second Act. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 THE FIRST ACT 
 
 The scene is the inner hall of a house in the country. 
 The walls are panelled, the lack wall elbow^high 
 in wood, the rest of it in glass. In the centre 
 of this wall is a double-door, also glazed. From 
 about seven feet from the ground, a silk hang- 
 f%Jfc ing covers the glazed panels of the back wall 
 
 and of the door; and above the hanging there is 
 a vieiv of a broad corridor, of a door in the wall 
 on the further side of the corridor, and of two 
 staircases one on the right, the other on 1ha 
 left ascending to the upper floors. 
 
 In the wall on the left is the fireplace, and 
 between the fireplace and the back wall there ?'.<? 
 a single door opening from an adjoining room. 
 In the right-hand wall, opposite the fireplace, is 
 a bay-window over which the curtains are 
 drawn. A writing-table and chair stand in the 
 bay, and beyond the recess are a handsome 
 chamber-organ, a music-stool and, near-by, a 
 brass lectern. Also on the right are a round 
 table, a settee facing the fireplace, and two 
 chairs. . 
 
 On the left, by the fireplace, a second settee 
 fronts the spectator. Behind this settee are a 
 small table and a chair; on the right of it, an 
 arm-chair and a fauteuil-stool. Another arm- 
 
2 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 chair stands close to the fireplace, at the nearer 
 side; and against the back wall, between the 
 door in the centre and the wall on the left, is a 
 third settee. 
 
 The corridor is lighted by a large pendent 
 lamp. Except for the light coming from this 
 lamp, and for the flicker of the fire, the room 
 is in darkness. 
 
 [Note: Throughout, "right" and "left" 
 are the spectators' right and left, not the 
 actor's:] 
 
 [Mus. HEBBLETHWAITE and DULCIE 
 ANSTICE are seated by the fire, MRS. 
 HEBBLETHWAITE upon the settee, 
 DULCIE in the arm-chair between the 
 settee and the fauteuil-stool. They are 
 dozing. Presently DULCIE rouses her- 
 self, yawns violently, and rises. Wan- 
 dering to the window, she separates the 
 curtains and peeps out. 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [A handsome, modish young lady of thirty-two.] 
 Ugh! 
 
 [MRS. PANMURE enters at the door on the 
 left, carrying some letters. She is a 
 gentle, sweet-looking woman, a few years 
 older than DULCIE. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 In the dark! [She switches on the light. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 [Leaving the window.] Snowing. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 3 
 
 MBS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Troubled.] Yes, and Josey Quarendon is out 
 with Myrtle. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Witheringly.] She would be. 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Moving to the fireplace.] I'll order tea. [Ring- 
 ing.] The men ought to be back by five. [To MRS. 
 HEBBLETHWAITE, who has opened her eyes and is 
 trying to look wise.] Have I disturbed you, auntie? 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [A portly, pleasant lady of fifty.] Disturbed me, 
 dear? iSTot in the least. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [To DULCIE.] Has Hugh arrived yet? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Hugh? He's not due till dinner, is he? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 I asked him to come early and dress here. I 
 thought you'd be glad of a quiet hour or two 
 together. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 I've just been telling Dulcie how delighted I am 
 with Mr. Loring. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 We are all full of thanks over the affair. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Absolutely simple and amiable, if I'm any judge 
 of character ! 
 
4 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 DULCIE, 
 
 Dear old Hughie ! When I've enlarged his mental 
 outlook and polished him up generally 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Mildly.} Dulcie! [BRABNER, an elderly man- 
 servant, enters at the door in the centre. MRS. 
 PANMURE goes to him and gives him her letters.] 
 For the post. 
 
 BRABNER. 
 Yes, m'm. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 And yon may bring tea in a quarter-of-an-hour. 
 
 BRABNER. 
 Very good, .m'm. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Oh Brabner 
 
 BRABNER. 
 Yes, m'm? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 This new young man Kitts 
 
 BRABNER. 
 Albert Kitts, m'm quite a nice, capable lad. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 I'm sure of it. But Brabner 
 
 BRABNER. 
 Yes, m'm ? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 He was absent from prayers this morning. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 5 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Sitting upon the settee on the right groaning 
 inwardly.} Oh! 
 
 BRABNEK. 
 [Surprised.} Kitts was, m'm ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Brabner ! 
 
 BRABNER. 
 
 [Coughing behind his hand.] Heugh, heugh! 
 Yes, m'm, I'm aware. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 That won't do, Brabner. 
 
 BRABNER. 
 
 No, m'm, that won't do for us. 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Weren't the rules of the house explained to him? 
 
 BRABNER. 
 
 By me and Mrs. Meadows, m'm till we was 
 'oarse, as you might say. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 \Pityingly.} Poor fellow! I leave him to you, 
 Brabner. 
 
 BRABNER. 
 
 I'll have him in to-night, m'm, if it's by the 
 scruff of his neck. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Tli at won't be necessary, Brabner, I hope. 
 
6 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 BRABNER. 
 In these demycratic days, m'm ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 The only true equality, Brabner, is when we are 
 on our knees. [Dismissing him.] Tea at five. 
 
 BRABNER. 
 Yes, m'm. [He withdraws. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Looking at her fingers.] My hands are steeped 
 in ink. No, no, I mustn't exaggerate; I've slightly 
 inked my middle finger. 
 
 [She goes out at the door in the centre and 
 ascends the stairs. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Reclining upon the settee on the right.] Oh, 
 lord, Lottie's too good for this world ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Rising.] If there were more like her ! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 If there were many more like her, the stock of 
 halos would give out. She's worse than ever. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 You mean better. She has always been devoutly 
 inclined, dear child. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 In a reasonable, moderate way. But now ! 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 7 
 
 Ouf! Sometimes I anathematize the day I came 
 to live with Lottie and St. John. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 It has got you a husband, at any rate. 
 DULCIE. 
 
 Yes, and the only decent catch in the neighbour- 
 hood; I'm not oblivious of that. [Thumping a 
 pillow.] Oh, but we're so pious here ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Advancing to DULCIE.] You'll soon be out of it. 
 DULCIE. 
 
 I'm not to be married till. June. Five more 
 mortal months! [Settling herself.] It's all this 
 Mr. Pruyn's doing, you know the life we've been 
 leading at The Clewers lately. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Sitting at the round table.] The new rector of 
 Polehampton. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 The man who dined with us last night. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Strongly resembling a raven. 
 DULCIE. 
 
 The Reverend Mervyn Pruyn. My sister is com- 
 pletely at his feet. 
 
8 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 I confess I should never have thought that Lottie 
 would have deserted her own little church at 
 Tollshunt. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 Poor Mr. Crispe is beating his venerable brow 
 over it. [Raising herself upon her elbow to face 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE.] Aunt 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Yes, dear? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Have you heard of the Guild of Fine Souls? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Guild of what? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Fine Souls. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Good gracious ! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 It's a sort of Order that Pruyn has instituted for 
 pure people. Pruyn's Pure People ! Suggests pink 
 pills, doesn't it? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Reprovingly.] Dulcie ! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Lottie is the first to be admitted. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 9 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Quite right. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 Didn't you spot the ornament she was wearing in 
 her dress last night? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Oh, I wondered 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 That was it the badge. The design is a pair of 
 wings sprouting out of a heart. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Eather a pretty idea. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 There are three grades first, second, and third 
 class. The first gets a gilt badge, the second a silver 
 one, the third copper. [Pointing a warning finger 
 at MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE.] You take jolly good 
 care you're not nominated during your stay here. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Nominated ? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 By Lottie. The holder of a First Class badge has 
 the privilege of nominating three Fine Souls for the 
 Guild. [Putting Tier feet to the ground.} How- 
 ever, there's one consolation. 
 
io PRESERVING MR. PAN MURE 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Consolation ? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 [Tidying her hair.] I'm in no danger. 
 
 MKS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Dulcie, for shame ! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Listening.] Sssli ! [Dropping her voice.] 
 Don't you chaff her about it, though. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Chaff her! As if ! 
 
 [MBS. PANMURE has descended the stairs and 
 now re-enters at the door in the centre. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 What are you two talking about? 
 DULCIE. 
 
 Er [rising and going to the fireplace] the new 
 organ. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Standing before the organ in admiration.] Ah! 
 Isn't it beautiful, auntie ? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Rising and joining MRS. PANMURE.] Beautiful. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE n 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 A great improvement on the old harmonium. 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 And how capitally that young woman of }^ours 
 plays it. 
 
 MRS. PANMUBE. 
 Caroline my maid. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 So versatile of her ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 She hasn't been with me long. She came with 
 the organ, as it were. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 She's a rotten maid. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [Pained.] Dulcie! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Soothingly.] Well, you can't have it all ways, 
 can you ? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 No, it's such a rare combination a maid and an 
 organist. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 Oh, I admit, when she gets her fingers into your 
 hair, you know she's a good organist. 
 
12 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 [JOSEPHA QUARENDON enters breathlessly at 
 the door in the centre, pushing MYRTLE 
 before her. They are in outdoor 
 things, which are powdered with snow. 
 MYRTLE is so enveloped in mufflers and 
 wraps as to be almost entirely concealed. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [A captivating, light-hearted young lady of seven- 
 and- twenty.] Awfully sorry! Have you been 
 anxious about us ? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Hurrying to MYRTLE.] Oh 7 my darling! 
 [Going down on her knees to remove MYRTLE'S 
 outer coverings.] My darling, where are you? 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 [In a distant voice.] I am here, mother. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Taking MYRTLE'S things, one by one, from MRS. 
 PANMURE.] We went a bit further than I intended. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 How could you, Josey? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 It's glorious out of doors. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [As MYRTLE is gradually revealed.] Oh oh 
 oh 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 13 
 
 MYETLE. 
 
 [ A wizen, owlish child of eleven, with a prominent 
 brotv and two skimp plaits hanging down her back.] 
 I beg that nobody will make a fuss. It's as much my 
 fault as Josepha's. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 The child's nose is as red as a beetroot. Look at 
 your nose, Myrtle. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Ah, yes, look at your nose ! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Myrtle, do look at your nose. 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 [Squinting horribly.] How can I? [With 
 dignity.] Surely it must be evident to you all that 
 you are demanding an impossibility. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Burdened with MYRTLE'S wraps, etc.] I'll take 
 her upstairs. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 And change her boots. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 And stockings. 
 
i 4 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 And the colour of her nose. [Merrily.] Come 
 along, Myr. Ha, ha, ha ! 
 
 [ JOSEPHA and MYRTLE go out at the door in 
 the centre and mount the stairs. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [After a pause.] It will never answer; never, 
 never, never. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Gloomily.] I have grave doubts on the point, 
 certainly. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE 
 
 But, aunt Corisande, can't a mother make her 
 child's governess a friend ? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 That's precisely what you haven't done, dear. 
 DULCIE. 
 
 What you've done, Lottie, is to make a friend your 
 child's governess. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [To MRS. PANMURE.] She was at school with 
 you, wasn't she ? 
 
 MRS. PAXMURE. 
 
 At Madame Vignolles', in my last two terms. 
 She was the baby of the school when I was senior. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 15 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Incredulously.] Oh, Lottie ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 She's only twenty-seven. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 [Humming.} IFm, h'm, h'm ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETI-IWAITE. 
 
 [Sitting upon the settee on the right.] Who is 
 she? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Sitting, facing MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE, upon the 
 fauteuil-stool.] Her father was Colonel Quarendon; 
 he was something in the War Office. Our guest 
 Mr. Stulkeley knew him, and speaks highly of 
 him. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Sitting on the settee by the fireplace.] Of the 
 father. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Mrs. Quarendon was a Walmsley. 
 
 MRS. HEBELETHWAITE. 
 There are any number of Wahnsleys. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 She died years ago, the Colonel the year before 
 last. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 No money? 
 
16 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Xot a penny. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Sad, of course. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 Josey's had a dreadfully rough time of it. I 
 believe she has known what it is to dine upon an 
 egg- 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Benevolently.] Well, my dear, if it was a fresh 
 
 egg 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Auntie ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Her frocks don't give one the notion of poverty. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 They made up a purse for her in London, when it 
 was settled she should come down to me. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Who were " they " ? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE... 
 Some friends of her father's. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE, 
 Men friends ? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 I haven't inquired. Anyhow, the figure wasn't a 
 very large one. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 17 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Startled.] Her figure? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 No, no; the amount subscribed. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 I thought you were referring to her measure- 
 ments. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 [Amused.] Ha, ha! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Then, again, there is the question of Myrtle's 
 education. Is this young person qualified to under- 
 take it ? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 She's exceedingly clever. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 As clever as she can stick. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Cleverness and the capacity for instructing are 
 different matters. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 Dr. Beaumont says that Myrtle's intellectual 
 development is so extraordinary, so in advance of 
 her years 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Perfectly abnormal ! 
 
i8 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 That was the expression he used abnormal so 
 abnormal that what she most needs at present is 
 brain-rest 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Then perhaps Miss Quarendon is too clever. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 [Rather maliciously.] Ha, ha! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 Do let me finish, auntie brain-rest and bright 
 companionship. There's where Josepha is invalu- 
 able; in spite of what she has gone through, Josey 
 has the happiest of dispositions. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Combined, I am afraid, with a slight freedom of 
 manner. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Smiling.] You don't like her, aunt Corisande; 
 that's plain. Nor does Dulcie. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Languidly.] The fact is, aunt, Miss Quarendon 
 is what is commonly termed a man's woman. The 
 men swallow her at a gulp. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 I fancy that must be the case. Your uncle Alfred 
 is positively silly over her. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 19 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 ' Why is it " silly " to be kind ? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 She's almost a stranger to him; we haven't been 
 here forty-eight hours. A man of your uncle's age, 
 too! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 Mr. Stulkeley the frigid Mr. Stulkeley! even 
 he contrives to unbend when he speaks to her. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 And little Mr. Woodhouse. Absurd ! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 They hover round her like bees round a flower. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 You see, bees love a sw/iflower. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 Ho ! You'll never get anything severe out of 
 Lottie, aunt Corisande, if you try till doomsday. 
 
 [HuGH LORING, a ivell-groomed, cheery, 
 fresh-coloured young man with a 
 vacuous face, enters at the door in the 
 centre. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [Rising.] Ah! 
 
 LORING. 
 
 [Shaking hands with MRS. PANMURE.] HowVyer 
 once more? [To DULCIE.] 'Ullo, Dulce! 
 
20 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Calmly.} Hallo, old thing! 
 
 LORING. 
 
 [Shaking hands with MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE.] 
 HowVyer again? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [To LORING.] Have you motored over, or 
 driven ? 
 
 LORING. 
 
 Dog-cart. [Going to the fireplace.} Father's 
 took the car to Shobdon, to hear the political gents. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 Taken. 
 
 LORING. 
 Hey? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Your father has taken the car. 
 
 LORING. 
 
 [Puzzled.} Oh z'actly. [To MRS. PANMURE.] 
 I say, hard lines, Mrs. Panmure ! Are we in for a 
 lot o' beastly snow? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Standing behind the chair between the settee on 
 the left and the fauteuil-stool.} You're thinking of 
 the hunting? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Irritably.} Wiry, what do you imagine he's 
 thinking of, Lottie? 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 21 
 
 LORING. 
 
 [Ruefully.] It was to 'a been a regular thick 
 week. The hounds were to meet at Stoke's Cross 
 to-morrow; and Friday father's invited some swells 
 to shoot the home covers. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Oh, you'll be able to get at the poor pheasants. 
 
 LORING. 
 Xot if the snow lays on the underwood. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Lies. 
 
 LORING. 
 Hey? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 [Rising.] Lies. 
 
 LORING. 
 [Aghast.] Who does? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 [Stamping her foot.] Lies. 
 
 LORING. 
 What are? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 If the snow lies on the underwood. 
 
 LORING. 
 [Relieved.] Oh-h-h! Z'actly. 
 
22 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Well, if it would give the unfortunate birds a 
 
 rest 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Moving towards MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE.] Yes, 
 if it would give the birds a rest, as a topic of con- 
 . versation and the foxes also I'd bless the snow 
 on my bended knees. 
 
 LORING. 
 Dulce ! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Sitting at the round table.] Oh, la, la; la, la! 
 I'm sick of hearing about hunting and shooting. 
 
 LORING. 
 I I beg pardon. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Drumming upon the table.] Bored to tears 
 with it. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [Distressed.] Dulcie! 
 
 LORING. 
 
 [Coming to DULCIE.] I I forgot. You've said 
 so before, haven't you? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 Hinted at it ; but now you've got it straight from 
 the shoulder, Hughie. 
 
 MRS. PAXMURE. 
 
 [To MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE, in a flutter.] 
 Auntie 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 23 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Rising.] Yes, dear? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Going to the door on the left.] Perhaps Dulcis 
 and Mr. Loring 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Joining MRS. PANMURE.] Yes, I expect so. 
 [The two ladies retire somewhat precipitately. 
 
 LORING. 
 
 [In an aggrieved tone.} 'Pon my soul, Dulce ! 
 Beastly shame to jump on me in the presence of 
 others ! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Rising and walking about.] Oh ! 
 
 LORING. 
 
 Pitchin' into me before Mrs. P. and your aunt! 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [On the left.] It was your grammar that upset 
 me. 
 
 LORING. 
 
 [Dejectedly.] My grammar is a trifle off Vafter- 
 noon, I own. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Confronting him.] Tell me, how the deuce are 
 we .ever to shove along together if you talk, gram- 
 matically or otherwise, of nothing but hunting and 
 
24 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 shooting for half the year and flies and fishing for 
 the remaining six months? [Pacing the room.] 
 Oh ! [He seats himself, ivith a blank look, upon the 
 settee on the right.] Why haven r t you gone to 
 Shobdon, pray, to hear Mr. Stulkeley and uncle 
 Alfred hold forth at the Corn Exchange ? 
 
 LORING. 
 Pm no hand at politics. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Ha! There you are! 
 
 LOBING. 
 
 [Leaning his head upon his fists.] Oh, I know 
 I'm not brainy, Dulce, and that sort o' thing. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 How do you know? -You've never used your 
 brains. 
 
 LORING. 
 
 This kiddie here little Myrtle she'll lick me 
 into fits over an argument, Myrtle will. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 You needn't argue ; arguing isn't a sign of intelli- 
 gence. 
 
 LORIXG. 
 
 [Looking up.] I have thought of how I might 
 improve myself, too enlarge my mental outlook, 
 as you put it the other day. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 25 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Coming to him, softening.] Have you? [He 
 nods.] Good man! [Rumpling his hair affec- 
 tionately.] Sorry I showed you up. 
 
 LORING. 
 
 At best I could never make myself more than fair 
 to middlin' 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Bosh! 
 
 LORING. 
 Same time [contracting his brows] Dulce 
 
 DULCIE. 
 [Tenderly.] Eh? 
 
 LORING. 
 
 This governess of Myrtle's Miss Wot's-'r- 
 name 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Freezing.] Miss Quarendon? 
 
 LORING. 
 S'pose one may call her a governess. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 What of her? 
 
 LORING. 
 She's an awf ly talented gal. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Awfully. 
 
26 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 LOKING. 
 
 And easy to get on with. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Extremely easy to get on with. 
 
 LORING. 
 
 , if she'd give me an hour or two's coachin' 
 say, three days a week with the permission o' the 
 Panmures, o' course - 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Her lips becoming thinner.] Of course. 
 LORING. 
 
 Read some stiff books to me out-and-out stiff'uns 
 or let me read to her any system she chooses 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Rigidly.] Any system she chooses. Yes? 
 
 LORING. 
 
 It ? ud benefit her as well as me. Fd make it worth 
 her while, naturally. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Xaturally. 
 
 LORING. 
 [Rising, learning.'] Anything in it? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 I consider it a perfectly admirable suggestion. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 27 
 
 LORING. 
 
 You do ! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Her eyes flashing.] And the sooner you carry it 
 into effect the better. 
 
 [She turns from him and stalks to the door 
 on the left. 
 
 LORING. 
 
 [Gazing after her in astonishment.] Dulce! 
 [She goes out. He follows her, bewildered.] Any- 
 thing wrong, Dulce? 
 
 [ As he disappears, BRABNER and KITTS the 
 latter a young, .sullen-looking footman 
 bearing a tray enter at the door in the 
 centre and proceed to lay the tea. 
 
 BRABNER. 
 
 {Continuing a conversation, after glancing round 
 the room.} Cieanin* your plate, were you? [Spread- 
 ing a cloth upon the round table.} That's your ex- 
 cuse for missin' mornin' prayers, is it ? 
 
 KITTS. 
 
 [Depositing the tray upon the table.} My 'ands 
 were covered with plate-powder. 
 
 BRABNER. 
 
 Well, you take it from me, Albert, you ^ must 
 arrange your dooties different in the future, if you 
 wish to remain at THe Clewers, 
 
28 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 KlTTS. 
 
 [Fetching dishes of cake, etc., from the corridor.] 
 Sickenin' fuss ! 
 
 BRABNER. 
 
 In this 'ouse, young feller, it'll have to be plate 
 and prayers. 
 
 KITTS. 
 
 [Assisting BRABNER to dispose the dishes.] One 
 thing I notice. 
 
 BRABNER. 
 Wot's that? 
 
 KITTS. 
 
 The guv'nor don't seem to enjye our mornin' an' 
 evenin' services any more than wot I do. 
 
 BRABNER. 
 Ho? 
 
 KITTS. 
 
 Sermon nights espeshully. Pore un'appy man, 
 whenever 'e preaches one of his little sermons, 'e's a 
 pityble objict. 
 
 BRABNER. 
 
 Ellerquence may not be Mr. Panmure's strong 
 point, I .grant. Still, it's 'ardly becomin' in an 
 
 unde'r-servant 
 
 [JOSEPH A and MYRTLE descend the stairs. 
 JOSEPHA is singing gaily and the sound 
 of her voice comes through the open 
 doorway. 
 
 KITTS. 
 [With a motion of the head.] Ah, that's the most 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 29 
 
 likeable person at this end o' the building Mr. 
 Brabner. 
 
 BRABNER. 
 
 [Softly.} Well, I don't say you're far wrong 
 there, my boy. 
 
 [JOSEPHA enters with MYRTLE. BRABNER 
 smiles benignly on JOSEPHA, who smiles 
 in response, and the two men withdraw. 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 [Her feet in huge, square-toed shoes surveying 
 the tea-table, peevishly.} I want my tea. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 You must wait till the gentlemen return. 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 These visitors of ours disorganise everything. 
 [Taking a small cake from the table.} Why are we 
 entertaining this Mr. Stulkeley, Josepha ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [At the fireplace.} Mr. Hebblethwaite proposed 
 it, I understand. 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 [Seating herself at the round table and munching 
 her cake.} For what reason? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 They're friends political associates. 
 
30 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 At that rate, my great-uncle might inflict half the 
 House of Commons upon us. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Moving about.} You see, Myr, parliament's not 
 sitting for the moment and so Mr. Stulkeley is on 
 the stump. 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 How vulgar you are ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 This week he's waving his banner in our district. 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 [Wearily.] Tariff Reform, I presume? 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Yes ; and Mr. Hebblethwaite thought it would be 
 convenient to Mr. Stulkeley and his cousin and 
 secretary, Mr. Woodhouse 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 Odious creature ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 If they were allowed to make The Clewers their 
 head-quarters. The big meeting is at Polehampton 
 to-morrow. 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 Are the ladies to attend ? 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 31 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Rather! I'm longing for it. 
 
 MYBTLE. 
 
 [Raising her skirt and wiping her fingers upon 
 her petticoat.] I shall certainly plead indisposition. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Leaning over MYRTLE.] Oh, come, Myr; do 
 buck np ! Don't view life in such a grey light. 
 
 MYBTLE; 
 
 [Rising.] My de-ah Josepha 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 It'll he ripping fun, being on the platform. 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 [Walking away to the fireplace, fastidiously.] My 
 deah Josepha, sometimes I find your high spirits too 
 terribly oppressive. 
 
 JOSIPHA. 
 Do you ! 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 Either you've no liver or your troubles have 
 blunted your finer perceptions. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 You horrid little pig, Myr ! It's because my per- 
 ceptions are keen that I'm as brisk and cheerful as I 
 am. Ah, it would do you good to have a taste of 
 poverty some day. 
 
32 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 Doubtless. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Poverty such as I've experienced. Then your 
 mind would dwell less upon your liver, and youM 
 learn to appraise things at their full value com- 
 fort, a home, roaring fires, a luxurious bed to lie in, 
 pretty walls to gaze at. [Approaching MYRTLE.] 
 You shrimp ! 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 [Disdainfully.] Pig shrimp ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Do you know Fve lived in a bare, seven-and-six- 
 penny furnished lodging in Bloomsbury? 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 Bloomsbury conveys nothing to me. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 No, you worm ! 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 Worm ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 The desolation of it ! And you dare to sniff at me 
 for feeling joyous. Insect ! 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 Insect ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Do you love your mother? 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 33 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 A strange question. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Do you? 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 I trust I am not destitute of natural affection. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 That alone should make you happy. But, no; 
 you haven't a tithe of the love for her that I have. 
 She's my mother, father, sister, brother, friend, all 
 in one and an angel into the bargain. 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 Don't be rhapsodical, Josey. 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 She's brought me into harbour, after such a toss- 
 ing about into harbour ! [Sitting in the arm-chair 
 ~by the fauteuil-stool.] Myrtle dearie, often and 
 often, when I'm by myself, I go down on all-fours 
 and kiss the carpet, out of pure thankfulness. 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 Harbours don't have carpets. That comes of 
 employing metaphors. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Ha, ha! [Stretching out her arms to MYRTLE, 
 who goes to her and sits upon her lap.} But I do ; I 
 kiss the carpet in thankfulness- thankfulness that 
 
34 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 the earth under me is solid once more. [Embracing 
 MYRTLE.] Oh, Myrtle! 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 [Responding to the embrace.] Pig shrimp 
 
 worm insect 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Hugging the child.] Precious! [The hoot of a 
 motor-horn, several times repeated, is heard, pro- 
 ceeding from the right. JOSEPHA jumps up, nearly 
 capsizing MYRTLE.] Here they are! [Putting 
 MYRTLE in order.] Sorry. 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 Careless ! 
 
 [MRS. PANMURE and MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE 
 enter from the left, go out at the door in 
 the centre, and disappear on the right. 
 KITTS is seen hurrying along the 
 corridor. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [As she passes through the room.] The car. 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [At her heels.] I hope Alfred hasn't caught a 
 chill. He's one of those who appear robust 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [To MYRTLE.] Scissors! Your nose is still 
 frightfully red, Myr. 
 
 [She produces a little metal box containing 
 a preparation for the face and smears 
 the stuff heedlessly upon MYRTLE'S nose. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 35 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 [Resenting the operation.] Tscha! Pish! 
 
 [With a nose as white as a clown's, MYRTLE 
 walks away to the right and seats herself 
 upon the settee as DULCIE enters at the 
 door on the left followed by LORING. 
 JOSEPHA mends the fire and throws some 
 logs on. It is evident that DULCIE'S 
 coolness towards LORIXG has not abated. 
 
 LORING. 
 
 7 o DULCIE, in 
 Dulc 
 
 [To DULCIE, in an undertone, appealingly .] 
 ik 
 
 DULCIE. 
 [Turning to him icily.} Did you speak? 
 
 LORING. 
 Anything amiss, Dulce ? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 [Dropping her voice.} No thing now. 
 
 LORING. 
 Now? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 Now that there are a few fairly intelligent men on 
 the premises. 
 
 [DULCIE moves over fo the right as MRS. 
 PAX MURE enters with STULKELEY, a tall, 
 dignified man of forty-tiro with a noble 
 forehead and a precise, formal manner. 
 
36 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [To STULKELEY.] Have you had a successful 
 meeting ? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Quite. Quite an encouraging meeting on a small 
 scale. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Let me introduce Mr. Hugh Loring. 
 
 LORING. 
 [To STULKELEY.] HowVyer? 
 
 [STULKELEY lows to LORING, acknowledges 
 DULCIE'S presence with a polite smile, 
 and then drifts to the fireplace and to 
 JOSEPHA. DULCIE elevates her brows in 
 displeasure. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 ISTot that the proceedings were altogether har- 
 monious. [To JOSEPHA.] Miss Quarendon's de- 
 scription last night of the humours of the Shobdon 
 native was fully justified. 
 
 [HEBBLETHWAITE, a jovial, rubicund man of 
 fifty-five, enters with MRS. HEBBLE- 
 THWAITE. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [To MRS. PANMURE and DULCIE.] Ah, Lottie! 
 Ah, Dulcie ! P>ack again, my dears ! Glad to see the 
 fire, I can tell you. [To 'LORING, who is sitting 
 wretchedly upon the settee at the back,] Hallo, Mr. 
 Loring! 
 
 LORING. 
 HowYyer? 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 37 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Joining JOSEPHA and STULKELEY.] Is that 
 little Miss Josey ? 
 
 [MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE also is displeased and 
 glances significantly at DULCIE. WOOD- 
 HOUSE and PANMURE enter. WOOD- 
 HOUSE is a foppishly tailored, finical 
 little gentleman of thirty, PANMURE a 
 depressed, sandy man of forty-four, once 
 good-looking but now scant of hair and 
 with a variegated, bilious complexion. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Holding up his hands.] Oh, my dear Mrs. 
 Panmure ! My dear Miss Anstice ! Oh, my dear 
 ladies ! I really do congratulate you on not having 
 patronized our show this afternoon. Oh, what an 
 experience! [Catching sight of JOSEPHA and join- 
 ing the group at the fireplace.] You were quite 
 right, Miss Quarendon primeval savages ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 I warned you it was a rowdy, one-eyed place. 
 [ Going to LORING. ] Hallo, Hughie ! 
 
 LORING. 
 HowVyer? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [To MRS. PANMURE and MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE, 
 in a whisper.] Just look ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [In a whisper.] Astonishing! 
 
38 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [Pacifically.} Hush, hush! 
 DULCIE. 
 Gathering round that girl ! 
 
 [BRABNER enters at the door in the centre, 
 carrying a tea-urn. KITTS follows with 
 dishes of hot toast and muffins. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 Tea. [Sitting at the round table.} Poor people ! 
 They must want tea hadly. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Sitting at the round table sharply.] I do. 
 [The servants withdraw. MRS. PANMURE pours out 
 tea. MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE turns in the direction 
 
 of her husband.] Alfred Alfred [The group 
 
 at the fireplace breaks up. JOSEPIIA moves to the 
 settee at the back and LORING having risen to talk 
 to PANMURE sits there.] Alfred tea! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 We've had it, my dear. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Coming forward.] They were kind enough to 
 provide tea for us at the Corn Exchange. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Coming forward.] Yes, and I believe they'd 
 boiled some of their corn in it. Ha, ha ! 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 39 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Coming forward.] No, no; it was genuine tea, 
 I'm convinced grown in the county. 
 
 MKS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Giving a cup of tea to MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE.] 
 Auntie. No sugar, I remember. [Handing a cup to 
 DULCIE wlio is standing at the table.] Dulcie. 
 [Filling another cup.] Josey dear . 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Advancing and taking the cup from MRS. 
 PANMURE.] Permit me. 
 
 [He carries the cup to JOSEPHA, upon which 
 HEBBLETHWAITE picks up one of the 
 dishes from the table and goes to 
 JOSEPHA with it. STULKELEY im- 
 mediately follows HEBBLETHWAITE'S ex- 
 ample, and again DULCIE and MRS. 
 HEBBLETIIWAITE exchange glances. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [Holding up a cup.] Mr. Loring? 
 
 LORING. 
 
 [Leaving PANMURE.] No, thanks. 
 
 [He also removes a dish from the table and, 
 unconscious of the enormity of the act, 
 conveys 'it to JOSEPHA. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [To MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE, gasping.] Well! 
 That takes the cake, in every sense ! 
 
40 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [To DULCIE.] The muffins have gone already. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [Handing a cup of tea to MYRTLE.] Darling. 
 
 [MYRTLE rises to receive her cup and to help 
 herself to bread-and-butter; then she- 
 walks off with her cup and plate and sits 
 upon the fauteuil-stool. The three 
 ladies at the round table stare at her in 
 amazement. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Under her breath.] Mercy on us! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Heavens ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [Faintly.] What a disfigurement ! 
 
 [They produce their pocket-handkerchiefs as 
 PANMURE, who has been standing at the 
 back moodily, his hands in his trouser- 
 pockets, advances and addresses MRS. 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Old Alfred did splendidly this afternoon, Corry 
 backed Mr. Stulkeley up in fine style. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE and MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [In a whisper.] St. John 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 41 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Eh wha' ? [MRS. PANMURE, MRS. HEBBLE- 
 
 THWAITE, and DULCIE touch their noses and point 
 at MYRTLE who is innocently absorbed in her tea.] 
 Great Scot ! 
 
 [He takes out his pocket-handkerchief as 
 STULKELEY comes forward. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [To PANMURE.] Did I hear you praising Hebble- 
 thwaite? [PANMURE nods.] I cordially agree ; his 
 speech was worthy of a more important occasion. 
 [PANMURE moves to the fireplace, giving MYRTLE'S 
 nose an ineffectual rub with his handkerchief in 
 passing. She looks up, startled and indignant. 
 STULKELEY replaces the dish which he is carrying 
 upon the round table.] I hope he'll be in similar 
 form to-morrow. 
 
 [He seats himself on the settee beside 
 DULCIE as WOODHOUSE advances. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 I say, Mr. Panmure, who was that low fellow who 
 put those confounded impudent questions at the end 
 of the meeting? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Percy Jones, the Shobdon grocer. 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 At one moment I felt tempted to knock his com- 
 mon head off. [Crossing to PANMURE, he encounters 
 MYRTLE, stares at her, and recoils.] I I 'pon my 
 word, I did. 
 
42 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 [MYRTLE returns his stare loftily. He steals 
 past her and goes to PANMURE as 
 HEBBLETHWAITE comes to the round 
 table and puts his dish down. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Mr. Percy Jones, was be ? Ho, ho ! An admirable 
 chap; admirable! [Chuckling.] Ha, ha, ha! 
 [MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE makes a whispered com- 
 munication to him.] Eh? [Looking at MYRTLE.] 
 Lor' bless me ! [Producing his handkerchief.] 
 Yes, I should be delighted to improve my acquaint- 
 ance with Mr. Percy Jones delighted. 
 
 [He joins PANMURE and WOODHOUSE, rub- 
 bing MYRTLE'S nose with his handker- 
 chief on his way. There is a fresh dis- 
 play of indignation on MYRTLE'S part, 
 LORING deposits his dish upon the table 
 " on tlie left and goes to the men at the 
 fireplace. JOSEPHA comes to the round 
 table, carrying her tea-cup, and MRS. 
 HEBBLETHWAITE and MRS. PANMURE 
 direct her attention to MYRTLE. 
 JOSEPHA looks at MYRTLE, starts in dis- 
 may, and, taking out her handkerchief, 
 rubs the child's nose. 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 Ga-a-ah ! [To avoid further persecution, MYRTLE 
 twists herself round towards the fire, whereupon 
 PANMURE again attacks her with his handkerchief.] 
 Ya-a-ah! 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 43 
 
 [She wriggles herself free and marches in 
 high dudgeon to the round table, where 
 she leaves her plate and cup and saucer. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Rising.] Josey dear, darling Myrtle is to dine 
 with the grown-ups to-night. I think she should 
 have an hour's rest upon her bed. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Seizing MYRTLE'S arm and leading her to the 
 door in the centre.] Yes, yes. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [To MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE, inviting her to with- 
 draw.] Shall we 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 [Resisting.] You are all worrying me to death. 
 I decline to rest. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [At the door.] Darling, for beauty's sake. 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 I attach no importance to beauty. I'm surprised 
 at you, mother. 
 
 [ JOSEPHA coatees MYRTLE into the corridor 
 the child still protesting and they go 
 up the stairs. MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE 
 and MRS. PANMURE are about to follow 
 when DULCIE joins them. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [To DULCIE.] Dulcie [glancing at LORING] 
 Mr. Loring. 
 
44 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Shrugging her shoulders.] Oh, Hughie must 
 amuse himself. My head's splitting. 
 
 [The three ladies retire and they too ascend 
 the stairs. STULKELEY, who has risen 
 with DULCIE, now walks slowly to the 
 door in the centre. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Going to him.] Do you want me, Reggie? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 No, thank you very much, my dear Talbot. [To 
 HEBBLETHWAITE.] Hebblethwaite, you'll find me 
 in the library. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Who is talking to PANMURE to STULKELEY.] 
 I'll come to you. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [To PANMURE.] So kind of you to place your 
 room at my disposal, dear Mr. Panmure. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [To STULKELEY.] Don't mention it; you're wel- 
 come. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 I appreciate your self-denial. 
 
 [STULKELEY goes out and LORING approaches 
 WOODHOUSE, who is lighting a cigarette. 
 
 LORING. 
 [To WOODHOUSE.] Excuse me; my name's Lor- 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 45 
 
 ing. I'm at home here. Would you care to knock 
 the ball's about for half-an-hour ? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 My dear Mr. Lawrie, you are too charming ! But 
 I don't play billiards; I wish I did. [Buttonholing 
 him.] If you could make up a four for Bridge, now ! 
 
 LORING. 
 
 [Lowering his voice.] Yes, but cards are barred 
 in this house. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Not really ! 
 
 LORING. 
 Fact. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Taking his arm.] Then I'll play you a hundred 
 up with pleasure. [They go out together. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [To PANMURE.] Well, I'll go and have my talk 
 with Stulkeley. We've got to arrange the line we 
 take to-morrow. [Moving to the door in the centre.] 
 What are you going to be up to ? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 I ? [Constrainedly.] Oh, I I've got my sermon 
 to prepare. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Pausing. ] Sermon ? 
 
46 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 PAXMURE. 
 
 Yes, I I preach a sort o' sermon twice a week at 
 evening prayers Wednesdays and Saturdays. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [With a twinkle.] You do ! 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Seven or eight minutes, you know not more ; a 
 mere trifle. Sermonette, / call it. [Crossing to the 
 writing-table anxiously and fidgeting with some 
 writing-paper.] By George, though, I haven't the 
 remotest idea what I shall treat you to to-night ! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Ho, ho, ho ! [Returning.] I must be careful not 
 to catch your eye while you're sermonetting. 
 
 PAXMURE. 
 
 Oh, you can jeer. [Leaving the writing-table. ~\ 
 It's an excellent thing for the servants. Besides, 
 I'm not such a duffer at it, when I'm in fettle. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Xo, but [poking him in the ribs] ha, ha, ha! 
 
 you! 
 
 PAXMURE. 
 
 [Forcing a laugh.] He, he, he ! 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 We'd no sermonettes when I was last with vou 
 
PRESERVING MR. PAN MURE 47 
 
 simply a chapter and a hymn or two. When did you 
 start sermonetting ? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 About a month after the new parson came to Pole- 
 hampton. [Sitting upon the settee on the right, his 
 tone suddenly changing,] Alfred 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Eh? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 [Quietly.] Damn him ! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Ho, ho, ho ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Damn him, damn him, damn him, damn him ! 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 'Ha, ha, ha! {Wiping his eyes.] He doesn't 
 strike me as being a bad chap, either. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 No, I s'pose he ain't a bad chap. I s'pose he's 
 what you'd term a good chap. But he's managed to 
 make my home a doocid deal more sanctimonious 
 than it's ever been since I married, and that's saying 
 something. He's put the finishing touch to my 
 missus ; b'George, he has ! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Pursing his lips.] H'm ! I thought last night 
 
48 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Looking at HEBBLETHWAITE.] You twigged 
 no cards? [HEBBLETHWAITE nods.] Lottie's shut 
 the drawing-room up. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Why?' 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Because the card-tables are there, and [as if re- 
 peating a lesson] and she doesn't want to pain me 
 while I'm accustoming myself to the deprivation. 
 [Wildly.] I know what's going to happen; / know. 
 I'm sure of it ; I'm certain of it ! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 What? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 When the room's reopened, I shall find the tables 
 gone; I shall find 'em clean gone. I know I shall; 
 I know I shall ! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Shouldn't be surprised, St. John. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 The only indoor games allowed now are billiards 
 and jig-saw puzzles. He plays billiards, or that 'ud 
 be abolished. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Mr. Pruyn? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 Flatters himself he can play. [Whimpering.] 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 49 
 
 Damn him, the beggar's cut the cloth ! He's cut the 
 cloth in two places ! 
 
 [ JOSEPHA lias come down the stairs and now 
 enters at the door in the centre. A book 
 is tucked under her arm. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Oh ! [Shutting the door.] I beg your pardon. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 [Rising.] All right; no harm done. 
 
 [She goes softly to the door on the left. 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [At the door, holding up the book.] A novel. 
 [Smiling.] Don't split on me. 
 
 [She withdraws. The two men watch the 
 closing of the door. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [After the silence, in a low voice.] Ah, that's the 
 one speck o' brightness in this dull hole of a house. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Yes, she's a jolly little woman. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Meditatively.] Dulcie's got her knife into her, 
 I've begun to suspect. She's too pretty for Dulcie. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 I hope Lottie won't let that 
 
50 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Oh, no; trust Lottie. Lottie's a trump; she 
 wouldn't do anything unjust. [Abruptly, laying a 
 finger on HEBBLETHWAITE'S waistcoat.] Mark you, 
 I haven't said a word against my wife, Alfred. 
 Lottie's far and away above me; that's all that's 
 askew between us. How she came to stoop to me is 
 a mystery; she was aware I'd been rather a loose 
 fish. I b'lieve that's why she did it to reform me. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Probably. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 And she has reformed me. She's made another 
 man of me, brought out all my best qualities ; 
 b'George, she has! [Brightening.] I'm really not 
 a bad specimen of the ordinary English country 
 gentleman, Alfred. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Encouragingly.] Quite the reverse. 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Hospitable, generous to the poor round about me, 
 a Justice of the Peace, and so forth ! And I owe 
 everything to Lottie. I swore to myself on my 
 wedding morning I wouldn't disappoint her ; and I 
 haven't, and don't intend. [Walking to the fire- 
 place, flourishing his coat-tails.] No, b'George, I 
 don't! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Oh, well, come, come ! If you can look at things 
 in this light, you ought to feel tolerably happy. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 51 
 
 PANMUEE. 
 
 I do feel happy. I am happy. Occasionally I 
 have a fit o' the blues; you've just seen me in one. 
 But, take me altogether, I'm happy and and and 
 proud. [Hitting his chest.] Proud, b'George! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Again moving towards the door.} And I dare 
 say that in course of time Lottie's piety'll tone down 
 a bit. Women fluctuate ; the more extreme they are, 
 the greater the chance of a change. [Turning.] 
 Ha ! I had my difficulties to contend with in my 
 married life some years back. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 [Condescendingly.} Did you, my dear feller? 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Before I knew you. But it wasn't piety in Corry's 
 case. 
 
 PANMUEE. 
 No? 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 It was jealousy with her. 
 
 PANMUEE. 
 [Raising his eyebrows.] Jealousy? Marvellous! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Slightly nettled.] What the devil is there that's 
 marvellous in it? Marvellous or not, it was con- 
 foundedly inconvenient while it lasted. However, 
 
52 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 the point is that Corry has become a different woman 
 since those days a totally different woman. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 [Not interested.] Indeed? 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Noil} I might spend a summer afternoon with a 
 siren on a lonely rock; my old lady has the most 
 complete confidence in me. Bless her heart ! Ha, 
 ha! [Opening the door.] But you want to get on 
 with your sermonette. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 If you don't object, ol' boy. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 I'll run along to Stulkeley. 
 
 [He departs and, with an air of determina- 
 tion, PANMURE produces his cigar-case, 
 lights a cigar, and makes for the writing- 
 table. There he sits and, humming the 
 refrain of a faded music-hall song, 
 resolutely takes up a pen and proceeds 
 to write. Apparently inspiration fails 
 him, for, after a while, he leans 'back, in 
 his chair, ruffles his hair, and utters a 
 deep groan. Again he applies himself 
 to his task, scribbles a few words and, 
 with another groan, again breaks down. 
 He rises painfully, pen in hand, in a 
 dismal voice resumes his humming, and, 
 helpless and woebegone, wanders about 
 the room. Suddenly his eyes rest upon 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 53 
 
 the door on tlie left and an idea occurs to 
 him. He goes to the door, opens it a 
 little way, and pops his head into the 
 adjoining apartment. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 [Feebly.] Hallo! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [From the next room.] Yes? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Hi ! Come here a second. [He moves away from 
 the door and presently JOSEPHA appears.] I'm in 
 such a shocking mess, Miss Quarendon. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Sympathetically.] A mess ? [Closing the door 
 and approaching him.] Anything I can do for you ? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 My Sermon 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 What about it? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 My discourse for to-night 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Aren't you pleased with it ? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Pleased with it! It doesn't exist. I haven't 
 written it. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Why not? 
 
54 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Haven't the ghost of a notion for it ; can't hit on 
 one. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Oh, Mr. Panmure, why do you leave your prep, 
 till the last moment? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 I don't. My brain's continually at work. But 
 I'm run dry. I've come to the end of my tether. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Thoughtfully.} Your last effort wasn't very 
 impressive, was it? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 Impressive ! An utter fiasco, b' George ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Did Lottie scold you for it? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 She didn't exactly scold. But she opened her 
 eyes at me you know 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Nodding.] H'm. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Damn it, I did want to score top-notch this 
 evening! [Pacing the room.] These political 
 blokes in the house! Beasts! With their parlia- 
 mentary airs ! Supercilious beasts ! I shall see 'em 
 bowing their heads to hide their faces. Their 
 
PRESERVING MR. PAN MURE 55 
 
 attitude'll look devotional, but I shall guess what* s 
 going on inside 'em ! 
 
 [He sits upon the settee by the fireplace in a 
 state of deep dejection. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Coming to the back of the armchair by the 
 settee firmly.] Now, Mr. Panmure, listen to me. 
 Shall I tell you where you make a mistake? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 [Violently.] It doesn't help to bully me. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 I'm not bullying you. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 Bullying won't help" me in the least. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Striking the back of the chair.] I'm not going 
 to bully you. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Sulkily.] Very well, then; mind you don't. 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 The mistake you make is that you rely too much 
 on your own invention. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 Whose invention should I rely on? 
 
56 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Any eminent divine's. You ought to crib. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 [Turning to her.] Crib? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Copy other men's sermons and addresses make 
 extracts from them. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Loweringly.] That's unprincipled, ain't it? 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Half the parsons do it. [Laughing.] Ha, ha, 
 Ha! Anything's better than such a performance 
 as you gave us on Saturday. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 Eub it in ! Eub it in ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Surely you've some volumes of sermons in the 
 library. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Rising.] I dun'no what's in the library. It 
 was my poor old dad's library; I've never had time 
 to go through the shelves. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Reproachfully.] Never had time! He's been 
 dead ten years, hasn't he? 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 57 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Breaking out again.] It's no use bullying 1 me ! 
 Bullying isn't of the slightest service. [Walking 
 away to the right.] What I require is a little 
 assistance to get me over to-night. [Shaking his 
 fists in the air.] Once I'm over to-night ! 
 
 JOSEPH A. 
 
 [Cogitating.] There's an array of Lives of the 
 Saints in the library; you could cram from them. 
 [With sudden excitement.] Is to-day a saint's 
 day? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 [Dully.] Dun'no. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 If it is, we've got a subject for your discourse 
 ready-made. [Pointing to the writing-table.] 
 Look in the Kalendar the Churchman's Kalendar ! 
 [He searches among some books which are in a 
 rack upon the writing-table.] Oh, do bustle, Mr. 
 Panmure ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Finding the book.] Mowbray's Churchman's 
 Kalendar. 
 
 [She runs to the settee on the right and, 
 kneeling upon the settee, holds out her 
 hand for the book. He stands behind 
 the settee and they examine the book 
 together. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 January the twenty-sixth here we are [dis- 
 appointed] oh, no saint ! What a blow ! 
 
58 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 PANMURE. 
 Just my infernal luck ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Wait, wait, wait. [Turning tlie leaves of the 
 book] You're so impatient. I rather fancy 
 [triumphantly] yes! "Addenda"! January 
 twentieth twenty-fourth twenty-sixth hooray ! 
 [leaving the settee] St. Polycarp ! St. Polycarp! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Replacing the Calendar and then advancing.] 
 Who was he? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 One of the Apostolic Fathers. We've got the 
 Apostolic Fathers [thinking] bottom shelf, right- 
 hand side of the door as you go in. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 [Catching her enthusiasm.] You are a brick! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 It's as easy as A.B.C. You begin with a short 
 exordium. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 [His jaw falling.] Oh, lor'! What's that? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 An introduction. [Improvising.] "My dear 
 
 friends " 
 
 PANMURE. 
 Dear friends ? Not the servants ! 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 59 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Sssh, sssh, sssh! "My dear friends " 
 
 PANMURE. 
 Hang it all! Class distinctions! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 " My dear friends, I will commence my little talk 
 to you this evening by putting a simple question to 
 you." 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Hold hard! [Walking about.] Let me get that 
 into my skull. [Mumbling.] " a simple ques- 
 tion to you/' 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 "" I ask you, when we open our eyes on the morn- 
 ing of every succeeding twenty-sixth of January, 
 whose name is the first to spring to our lips ? " 
 
 PANMURE. 
 [At the back.] Whose? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Why, St. Polycarp's ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 Oh, of course! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 "But, lest there should be one or two present 
 who have but an imperfect recollection of the 
 salient incidents of Polycarp's career" 
 
60 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 PANMURE. 
 [Returning to her.] I see! I grasp it! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 " I propose that we briefly refresh our memories 
 as to who and what Poly carp was." 
 
 PANMURE. 
 Oh, it's lovely lovely! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Then you give 'em five solid minutes of St. 
 Polycarp, borrowed from the Apostolic Fathers 
 
 PANMURE. 
 It's a knock-out a blooming knock-out! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 And wind up with the deduction. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 [Blankly.] Deduction? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 The go-and-do-likewise. Oh, come, you're equal 
 to a tag of twenty or thirty words, Mr. Panmure ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Rubbing his hands together.] Oh, won't Lottie 
 be struck all of a heap ! 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 61 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Hope so. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 This'll show Lottie what I'm worth. [Glee- 
 fully.] And how it'll bore those parliamentary 
 bounders, won't it ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Ha, ha, ha ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Pacing tlie room again.] Great Scot, how it'll 
 bore 'em! [Suddenly downcast.] Oh, I say! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Eh? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 The Apostolic Fathers are in the library! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Well? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 That stiff-necked Stulkeley is in possession there. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Knitting her brows.] Bother! 
 
 PANMURE.- 
 
 [Wrath fully.] I am kept out of my library by 
 him and that toad Woodhouse. A gentleman under 
 his own roof, b'George, is deprived of the com- 
 panionship of his books! It's atrocious! 
 
62 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Oh, it won't take a moment to sneak the Apostolic 
 Fathers. [He comes to her, appeased.} Just rap 
 at the door, and march in boldly. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Miss Quarendon Josey I'm tremendously 
 obliged to you ; b' George, I am ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Nonsense ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 You're a true pal; that's what I reckon you a 
 true pal. [Eagerly.} There's a terrific number of 
 saints' days in the Kalendar, ain't there ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Nearly enough to provide you with material for 
 a whole twelvemonth. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 And when it isn't a saint's day ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 You can depend on me for a leg up. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Ecstatically.} I dun'no what T should do with- 
 out you. Life 'ud be a blank, b'George ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Drawing back.] Thanks; but you you'll have 
 to do without me some day. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 63 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Alarmed.} What d'ye mean? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 When Myrtle's outgrown me goes abroad per- 
 haps 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 She shan't go abroad. I won't have it; I'll stop 
 it! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Uncomfortably.] I I'm sure I'm in no hurry 
 to leave Myrtle and Lottie. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 You shall never be kicked out of The Clewers on 
 any pretence, I promise you. [Gazing at her.] 
 You you're a dear little gal, you are. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Y-y -you'll be behindhand with your sermon. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 The dearest little girl in the world, V George-! 
 
 JOS1PHA.* 
 
 [Nervously.] Ha, ha, ha! Do do get on with 
 your job. [She goes out at the door on the left, 
 hastily. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Hi ! Josey ! You might give me the words of the 
 tag. Josey ! 
 
64 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 [He follows her, and almost immediately a 
 faint screech is heard from JOSEPHA 
 and she comes running back, wiping her 
 lips with her hand and with eyes ablaze. 
 She leans against a chair on the right 
 as PANMURE appears in the doorwai/ 
 with a scared face. His hair is dis- 
 arranged and his necktie disordered. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Panting.] How dare you! How dare you! 
 
 PANMUEE. 
 I beg your pardon I beg your pardon 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Go away! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 A kiss of gratitude, [Advancing.] That's all it 
 was a kiss of gratitude, b'George ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Retreating to the back of the round table.] 
 Don't you come near me ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Piteoitsly.] I've apologised! Didn't you hear 
 me ? A gentleman can't do more. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Picking up a plate threateningly.] Go further 
 off! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Turning from her, pressing his temples.] I 
 never intended it ; I swear I never intended it ! 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 65 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Cad! 
 
 [She hurls the plate at him and it crashes at 
 his heels. He gives a little leap in the 
 air from fright and then throws him- 
 self upon the settee by the fireplace. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Moaning.] Oh-h-h ! I dun'no what possessed 
 me to do it. Oh-h-h ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Coming from behind the table, weeping into her 
 handkerchief.] Oh! Oh! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 A kiss of gratitude ! Nothing else ! A kiss of 
 gratitude ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Sobbing.] Brute! Brute! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 Oh, do forget it ! Do pass it over ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Sinking upon the settee on the right.] Oh, 
 how unlucky I am ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 Pass it over this once ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Rocking herself to and fro.] How unlucky I 
 
 am ! 
 
66 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Sitting upright.] Damn it, ain't I unlucky 
 too! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Beating her brow.] Oh, and I thought I was 
 
 in harbour ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 To behave as well as I've behaved all these years, 
 and then for this to happen ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 I thought I was in harbour for a while; safely 
 in harbour ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Jumping up.] You are in harbour; [approach- 
 ing her] you are. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Shrinking.] Don't you come near me! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Look here ! I'll go away for a month. I will ! 
 I'll somewhere for my health. I'm full o' gout. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Getting to her feet.] Oh, and I've had such a 
 good time here ! [Moving towards the door in the 
 centre.] Such a good time! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 [In a panic.] Ah! Josey ! 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 67 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Keep off! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 What are you going to do? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Such a restful, peaceful time! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 [Frantically.} You're not going to tell Lottie! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Facing him.} Tell Lottie! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Josey, I've behaved so well all these years! 
 You won't tell Lottie ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [At her full height.] You you ! To imagine 
 such a thing! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 [Unsteadily.] Oh, you're you're a duchess! 
 
 [She goes out and ascends the stairs as he 
 drops upon his knees to pick up the 
 fragments of china. 
 
 END OP THE FIRST ACT. 
 
THE SECOND ACT 
 
 The scene is that of the preceding act, but everybody 
 is now dressed for dinner. 
 
 [MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE is seated upon the 
 settee on the right, reading a book. 
 JOSEPHA comes down the stairs and, 
 opening the door in the centre, looks in 
 as if she is searching for somebody. 
 Her face is pale and her eyes red from 
 weeping. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Ah! [Entering.] Here you are, dear Mrs. 
 Hebblethwaite ! [Closing the door.] I've just 
 taken the liberty of going to your room. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 To find me? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Advancing.] To have a little chat with you on 
 the quiet, before dinner, if I could manage to get it. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [With a touch of asperity.] I dressed early, to 
 set that organist free to muddle my nieces. [In- 
 specting JOSEPHA through her lorgnette.] A 
 sweet frock! 
 
 69 
 
70 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Thank you; I'm glad you like it. [Hesitat- 
 ingly.] Er Mrs. Hebblethwaite 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Yes, my dear? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Forgive me for presuming on so short an ac- 
 quaintance. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Genially.] Rubbish! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 But will you give me your advice about some- 
 thing? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Certainly; with pleasure. [Eyeing JOSEPHA 
 again.] You seem very upset. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 I? Well, I am, rather. [Turning away and 
 moving about.] I Fve 1 had a letter from a friend 
 of mine which is worrying me dreadfully. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 A friend? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 A girl I was thick with in London ; a girl who's 
 had to turn out into the world, as I have. I 
 mustn't mention her surname; her Christian name's 
 her Christian name's Milly. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 71 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 What's Milly's trouble? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Curious, isn't it ? She's governessing in the 
 country too. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Eeally? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Xot that there's anything particularly odd about 
 that, There are hundreds of us thousands 
 aren't there? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 I suppose your friend isn't quite so happily placed 
 as you are? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Ah, yes, she is^or was. There's the misery of it. 
 What do you think has happened to her ? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Delicately.] Oh, my dear child! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Her lip trembling.] She's she's been kissed. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Kissed? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Quiveringly.] Kissed, kissed! 
 
72 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Against her will? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Horridly. A wretch of a man suddenly began to 
 make love to her. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 A man in the house? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Yes; that's the worst part of the affair. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Belonging to the house, or merely a visitor? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [ Unprepared. ] E-eh ? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Is the fellow in any way attached to the house, 
 or was he a guest? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 She she doesn't say. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Married or single? [JOSEPHA shakes her head.] 
 She supplies you with no details? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 N-not many. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 73 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 What's her object in writing to you? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 To to tell me the news. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Dryly.] Most interesting. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 And to ask what she's to do. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 With regard to ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 The kiss. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Good gracious me, she doesn't want to know 
 whether she's to give a receipt for it ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Laughing in spite of herself.] Ha, ha, ha! 
 No, no. She wants to know whether she ought to 
 stay. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 In the establishment where ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Where it occurred. 
 
74 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 I see. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 And I thought that, before I answered her let- 
 ter 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 You'd consult some elderly person. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Standing before MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE.] With- 
 out being in the least elderly, dear Mrs. Hebble- 
 thwaite 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Now don't you try to humbug me, Miss Josepha. 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Without being in the least elderly, you are older 
 and wiser than I am or than Nelly is. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Nelly? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Correcting Tier self.] Milly. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 H'm ! Surely the proper course for her to pursue 
 is to inform the mistress of the house? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Quickly.] Oh, no, she wouldn't do that. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PAN MURE 75 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 No? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 I I gather she wouldn't do that on any account. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 The lady's husband, then if there is a husband. 
 [ JOSEPHA is silent.] Is there a husband? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Oh, yes, there there's a husband. But she's 
 determined not to -give the slightest pain to either 
 of her employers; to to to people who've been 
 excessively kind to her. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 That's all very fine; but when 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Oh, no ; she's as firm as a rock about it. She'd 
 prefer to clear out without a word sooner than dis- 
 tress her employers. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Your friend appears to be extremely explicit on 
 some points and reticent upon others. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 She she is a bit uncommunicative. [Clenching 
 her hands.] What she most wants to be told is 
 whether it's consistent with a decent-minded girl's 
 self-respect to remain on the spot after such an in- 
 sult. 
 
76 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Keeping it to herself? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Keeping it to herself. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Running the risk of meeting the man again, 
 perhaps. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 P-perhaps. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Well, it's difficult for anybody as completely in 
 the dark as I am to express an opinion. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Artlessly.] Yes, isn't it! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Poor Milly ! Has she anything to reproach her- 
 self with, do you imagine? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Reproach herself with? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Has she ever given the scamp the smallest en- 
 couragement ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 No, no ! [Checking herself.} Not intention- 
 ally; I swear she hasn't. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 77 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Sighing.] Of course, she's good-looking? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [With a pathetic little nod.] H'm. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Decidedly pretty? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 H'm. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 The old story ! What a curse beauty is to women 
 who have to earn their living ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Pensively.] Except on the stage, or 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Rising.] Oh, I wish there were more women 
 cursed with it on the stage. [Laying her book aside 
 and crossing to the fireplace.] Well, it doesn't do 
 to apply exactly the same standards of conduct to 
 those who work for their bread-and-butter as to 
 other people. [Warming her hands at the fire.] I 
 take it that the loss of her position would be a seri- 
 ous thing for Miss Milly? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Ah, yes, yes ; every way ! Girls who've once been 
 petted and spoilt, and made princesses of, can't 
 stand these knock-down blows as others can. [Pas- 
 sionately.] It's cruel ! [Sitting at the round 
 
78 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 table.} Just as she was getting her pluck back and 
 learning to throw her chest out again ! [Losing 
 control of herself and leaning her head upon her 
 hands.] Oh, it's too, too rough! 
 
 [There is a pause, and then MRS. HEBBLE- 
 THWAITE slowly turns and looks at 
 JOSEPHA half wonderingly, half sus- 
 piciously. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [After the silence, advancing a few steps and 
 speaking in an altered tone.] Miss Quarendon. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Raising her head hastily.] Yes? 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 You're exceedingly fond of this friend of yours ! 
 
 JGSEPHA. 
 Yes, I I am. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 You take her misfortune very much to heart, at 
 any rate. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Uneasily.] Oh, well [Lowering her eyes un- 
 der MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE'S gaze and rising] it is 
 rough on her, isn't it? [There is another pause. 
 JOSEPHA plays awkwardly with her fingers.} Oh, 
 I I've left a ring upstairs. 
 
 [She makes a movement towards the door in 
 the centre. MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE in- 
 tercepts her. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 79 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Quietly.] Tell me, dear, when did you receive 
 the letter? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 F-from ? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 From Milly. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Promptly.] This morning. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 This morning? Then you have known all 
 
 day ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Hurriedly.] What am I saying? I mean the 
 second post. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 That's the one o'clock post? 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Y-yes? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 But you were as merry as a cricket during the 
 afternoon. And now, quite suddenly 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Boldly.] I didn't open the letter. 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Didn't open it? 
 
80 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 No; I threw it unopened into my dressing-table 
 drawer. I kept it to read later on. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Raising her eyebrotvs.] No curiosity, eh? 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Fd no idea it contained what it did. How could 
 I have had! [Smiling politely.] Any further 
 questions, Mrs. Hebblethwaite ? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Oh, my dear, don't think me rude. [BRABNER 
 enters at the door in the centre carrying some 
 London evening newspapers which he proceeds to 
 arrange upon the round table. Talcing advantage 
 of the interruption, JOSEPHA passes MRS. HEBBLE- 
 THWAITE and, very softly, goes out at the door on 
 the left. MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE stands for a mo- 
 ment contemplating, with an unsatisfied air, the 
 door at which JOSEPHA has disappeared and then 
 turns to BRABNER and watches his operations 
 thoughtfully.] Are there three posts then, 
 Brabner ? 
 
 BRABNER. 
 
 No, m'm. The evenin' papers are dropped out 
 at Toll shunt by the train that runs through at six 
 fifty-seven. The porter brings 'em up to the house. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Slowly moving to the fireplace.] Brabner. 
 
 BRABNER. 
 Yes m'm? 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 81 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Miss Quarendon and I have been having a dis- 
 cussion about a letter which she received to-day. 
 
 BRABNER. 
 To-day, m'm? By 'and? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 'No; by post. She can't recollect whether it came 
 by the early morning post or by the post which gets 
 here shortly before lunch. 
 
 BRABNER. 
 
 Miss Josey must be making a mistake, m'm. 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 A mistake? 
 
 BRABNER. 
 
 Miss Josey's had no letters to-day, m'm, by the 
 post; neither to-day nor yesterday. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Facing liim, insinuatingly.] Now, Brabner, 
 how can you possibly know? 
 BRABNER. 
 
 [Going to the door.] The letters are alwavs de- 
 livered at the tradesmen's door, m'm, and I sort 
 them myself in the 'ousekeeper's room. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 I've misunderstood Miss Josey, Brabner, evi- 
 dently. 
 
 BRABNER. 
 Yes, m'm. [MYRTLE, dressed most unbecom- 
 
82 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 ingly, has come down the stairs and now enters at 
 the door in the centre. BRABNER, in leaving, nearly 
 falls over her.] I beg your pardon, missy. 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 [Ruffled.] Careless ! [BRABNER departs, closing 
 the door.] Where's Josepha? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Crossing to the right, endeavoring to preserve a 
 calm demeanour.] She was here a moment since. 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 Is she better? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Sharply.] Better? 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 She wasn't at all herself an hour or two ago. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 She looks out of sorts still. 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 [Shrugging her shoulders.] I can't guess what 
 ails her. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 She says she's had an upsetting letter. 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 [Peevishly.] Oh, it isn't any letter, great-aunt. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 8.] 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETI-IWAITE. 
 [Eagerly.] No? 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 [Sitting in the arm-chair by the fauteuil-stool, 
 and tugging at a wrinkled stocking.] I fancy she 
 has injured her face in some way. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Coming to MYRTLE.] Injured her face? 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 Yes. After I'd laid down for a little while this 
 afternoon, I thought I'd go along to her room and 
 resume an argument we had engaged in before tea. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Well? 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 And when I opened her door I found her laving 
 her face in a basin full of water, and then rubbing 
 it as though she'd tear the skin off. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Yes yes ? 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 I said, " What's the matter, Josepha ? " ; and she 
 burst out crying. I had to speak quite sternly to 
 her. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 The injury ? 
 
84 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 Then she resumed her scouring, saying " Oh ! 
 Oh ! Oh ! I shall never get my lips nice again, 
 Myrtle ; never ! " 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Her lips ! 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 Lips. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Her lips! 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 [Rolling her head from side to side.] Tsch! 
 Isn't my enunciation distinct, great-aunt? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Walking about in agitation.] Oh, don't keep 
 on calling me great-aunt, child; you make me feel 
 so stout! [Halting.] What then? 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 Oh, then she requested me to leave her to herself ; 
 and as it is not my practice to bestow my presence 
 
 where it is not wholly acceptable 
 
 [HEBBLETHWAITE has come downstairs and 
 now enters at the door in the centre. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [To MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE.] Ha, old lady! 
 Glad to SOP you're down. [Closing the door.] 
 Punctual for once, hey ? Ha, ha, ha ! I'm as 
 hungry as a hunter. [To MYRTLE.] Going to 
 make a big dinner, Myrtle? 
 
PRESERVING MR. PAN MURE 85 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 [Rising.] I shall eat sufficient, great-uncle. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Sufficient! [Chuckling.] So shall I, I promise 
 you. 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 [Squatting before the fire and stretching out her 
 hands to the blaze.} But I eat to live; I don't live 
 to eat. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Ho, ho, ho ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Standing by the settee on the right in a strange 
 voice.] Alfred. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Going to her.] Hey? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Outturally.] When we went upstairs after 
 tea Lottie, Dulcie, Miss Quarendon, and I what 
 became of all you men? 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Oh, we spread about. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Glancing at MYRTLE.] Sssh! 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 / had a chat with St. John and then joined 
 Stulkeley in the library. 
 
86 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 How long were you there ? 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 H'm quarter-of-an-hour or so. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 And afterwards? 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Rubbing Us chin.] What did I do? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Breathing heavily.] Did did Miss Quarendon 
 come downstairs again? 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Miss Josey? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Miss Quarendon! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Surprised at her manner.] Why? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Never mind why. I've a reason for asking. 
 [Fiercely.] Alfred ! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Disconcerted.] Ye-ye-ye-yes, I believe she did. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 87 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 You believe ! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 In fact,, I er I er 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Ah ! You know she did ! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Corry ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Faintly.] Oh, no, no ! [Sitting upon the settee 
 behind her.} You couldn't you couldn't be so 
 wicked ! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Wicked ! 
 
 [MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE sinks back, closing 
 her eyes, and HEBBLETHWAITE stares at 
 her in dismay. WOODHOUSE and LOR- 
 ING have come down the stairs and now 
 enter. They appear to be on excellent 
 terms, and LORIXG has recovered his 
 spirits. MYRTLE scrambles to her feet 
 and retires to the further settee, where 
 she sits stiffly. 
 
 WooDHOtrsE. 
 
 [To LORING.] That's understood, then, my dear 
 Mr. Loring. 
 
 LORING. 
 A bargain. 
 
88 PRESERVING MR. PAN MURE 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [To MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE, in an undertone.] 
 Corry, don't be stupid. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [To LORING.] And you'll drop me a line to 100 
 St. James's Street? 
 
 LORING. 
 [Assentingly .] A reg'lar night of it, hey! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [To MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE.] What's taken you? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Moving to the fireplace, followed by LORING.] 
 Her Grace is really a remarkable artist 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Corry Corry 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 And the shock of seeing her exhibit herself in a 
 music-hall gives you quite an agreeable sensation 
 in the spine. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Mopping his brow with his handkerchief.] 
 Ph-e-e-w! [MRS. PANMURE a/icrDuLciE have come 
 down the stairs and now enter. MRS. PANMURE is 
 dressed in black and on her breast is pinned the 
 badge of the Guild of Fine Souls. MRS. HEBBLE- 
 THWAITE opens her eyes and, with a jerk, sits up- 
 right as HEBBLETHWAITE turns to MRS. PANMURE 
 and DULCIE with an assumption of cheerfulness.] 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 89 
 
 Ah, my dears! Charming gowns you're wearing. 
 You look amazingly handsome in black, Lottie. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Humbly.} I love black; but with no thought of 
 looking handsome in it, uncle. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Discovering the badge.} Hallo! What's 'that? 
 That's a pretty thing. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 Didn't you notice it last night? It's the badge of 
 a guild I belong to. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Putting on his pince-nez.] A guild? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 The Guild of Fine Souls, uncle Alfred. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Examining the badge.] O'ho? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 Instituted by the dear rector of Polehampton 
 Mr. Pruyn. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Lottie is the first member. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 And a most unworthy one, 
 
QO PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Who lias come forward.] Guild of Pine Souls! 
 [Flippantly.] Oh, no, not actually! [MRS. 
 PANMURE turns her eyes upon him.] What are the 
 qualifications for membership? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [In meek reproof.] Modesty and humility are 
 among them, Mr. Woodhouse. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Abashed.] Oh ah [rejoining LORING at the 
 fireplace] I fear I am not eligible. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 A heart, isn't it ? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 And a pair of wings sprouting from it. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Gold? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 No; gat. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [TF/io has regained her composure, stonily.] 
 There are two ways of spelling " gilt." 
 
 [HEBBLETHWAITE, MRS. PANMURE and 
 DULCIE turn to her. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Two ways, auntie? 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 91 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 G-u-i-1-t is one of them. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Apprehensively.] Corry 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 Auntie dear! [HEBBLETHWAITE hastily crosses 
 to the fireplace and engages WOODHOUSE and LOR- 
 ING in conversation.] Aren't you feeling well? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Fairly, Lottie; thank you. 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Unfolding a newspaper at the round table.] 
 Ha, ha! Because aunt Corisande indulges in a 
 harmless little pun, she is accused of being indis- 
 posed. 
 
 [PANMURE has come downstairs and now 
 enters. He casts a glance round the 
 room, not altogether free from anxiety, 
 and then approaches MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 Not late, I hope? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 No, dear. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Reassured, drawing MRS. PANMURE away from 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE and affording her a glimpse 
 of a manuscript of several sheets which is in his 
 
9 2 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 breast-pocket.] I stayed in my dressing-room till 
 the last moment, polishing this up. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 Is that your ? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 [Nodding.] My discourse for to-night. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [A note of severity in her voice.] I sincerely 
 trust, St. John 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Oh, you need have no misgivings, my dear Lottie. 
 [Tapping his breast-pocket.] Though I say it, who 
 perhaps oughtn't to 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 What is your subject? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Guess. [She shakes her head.] Three shots! 
 [She reflects.] A dozen, and I bet you don't hit 
 the bottle. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [Gently.] St. John! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 [In a tone of triumph.] Lottie ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Eh? 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 93 
 
 PANMURE. 
 What price St. Polycarp ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 St. Polycarp! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Yes ; I'm giving you a concise history of the dear 
 old of the er of the aged bishop from the word 
 go. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [Her eyes sparkling.} Why, to-day is ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Exactly. I've had the scheme in my head for a 
 long while. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Scheme? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Whenever my sermon falls due on a saint's 
 day 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [Pressing his hand stealthily.] Ah! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 My dear Lottums, I shouldn't be ashamed if 
 Pruyn himself heard me to-night; b'George, I 
 shouldn't. 
 
 [STULKELEY has come down the stairs and 
 now enters. PANMURE joins the men at 
 the fireplace. 
 
94 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 A thousand apologies! [To MRS. PANMURE.] 
 Have I kept you waiting? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 No. [Looking round the room.] You are not 
 even the last. [STULKELEY joins the group at the 
 fireplace.] Where is Miss Quarendon? [Seeing 
 MYRTLE.] Ah, Myrtle darling, what have you done 
 with Josey ? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 My impression is she is in the morning-room. 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 [Opening the door on the left and calling.] 
 
 Josepha Josepha 
 
 [MYRTLE goes into the next room as 
 BRABNER enters at the door in the 
 centre. 
 
 BRABNER. 
 
 Dinner is served. 
 
 [BRABNER unbolts and opens the other half 
 of the double-door as MYRTLE reappears 
 with JOSEPHA. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [To MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE.] Dear me! How 
 white poor Josey looks ! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 [Overhearing MRS. PANMURE.] Ghastly. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 95 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 What's the cause of it? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [To MRS. PANMURE and DULCIE rising.] I 
 think I can tell you. [Summoning DULCIE to her.] 
 Dulcie [ DULCIE comes to the back of the settee 
 on the right.] Lottie girls the devil is in this 
 house. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE and DULCIE. 
 The devil! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 In the shape of a man. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 What man ? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Which man? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 That we have to find out. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Scared.] Oh, but, auntie 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Aunt Corisande ! 
 
 MRS. HELBLETHWAITE. 
 After dinner. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE and DULCIE. 
 Oh ! 
 
96 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 After dinner. [To MRS. PANMURE, firmly.] In 
 the meantime, Lottie, do your duty as hostess. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [To PANMURE, collecting herself.] S-S St. 
 
 John St. John 
 
 PANMURE. 
 [Turning to her.] Hallo ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 T-t-take auntie, please. [PANMURE advances and 
 gives MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE his arm.] Mr. Lor- 
 ing Dulcie. [LoRiNG, with a defiant air, goes 
 to DULCIE. Averting her head disdainfully, she 
 keeps him at as great a distance as is possible in the 
 circumstances.] Uncle, will you bring Miss 
 Quarendon ? 
 
 [MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE, who is going out 
 with PANMURE, staggers. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [To MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE.] Hold up, Corry! 
 Twisted a fetlock ? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [To WOODHOUSE.] Mr. Woodhouse my little 
 daughter. 
 
 [HEBBLETHWAITE takes JOSEPH A, WOOD- 
 HOUSE takes MYRTLE. Then MRS. 
 PANMURE puts her arm through 
 STULKELEY'S and the curtain falls. It 
 rises again almost immediately., show- 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 97 
 
 ing the room in semi-darkness. After 
 a pause, KITTS enters at the door in 
 the centre and switches on the lights 
 and mends the fire. While he is at the 
 fireplace, the ladies return from the 
 dining-room. MRS. HEBBLETIIWAITE 
 entering with MRS. PANMURE; DULCIE, 
 MYRTLE, and JOSEPHA following. MRS. 
 HEBBLETHWAITE, MRS. PANMURE, and 
 JOSEPHA sit MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE 
 upon the settee on the right, MRS. 
 PANMURE at the round table } and 
 JOSEPHA on the settee at the back. 
 MYRTLE and DULCIE remain standing 
 the former talking to JOSEPHA, DULCIE 
 beside MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Her eyes flashing with suppressed excitement.] 
 That will do, Kitts. Get out ! 
 
 KITTS. 
 Yes, miss. 
 
 [He withdraws at the door on the left, 
 DULCIE whispers into MRS. PANMURE'S 
 ear. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Turning to JOSEPHA.] Josey dear. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Yes, Lottie? 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 [To MRS. PANMURE, annoyed.] I am talking to 
 Josepha, mother. 
 
98 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 MRS. PANMURE, 
 
 Josey, dear, will you and darling Myrtle play 
 your duets on the morning-room piano? We shall 
 hear you quite clearly. 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 I am disinclined for music to-night. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Myrtle ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Who has risen.] Oh, Myrtle, what does it feel 
 like to be so ungracious? 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 [Tartly.] Very pleasant. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Leading her to the door on the left.] Come, 
 Myr. 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 [To everybody.] A more constrained and uncom- 
 fortable dinner I have seldom assisted at. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Myr Myr 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 This is the climax of a most depressing evening. 
 [JOSEPHA and MYRTLE go out, leaving the 
 door open. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [In a low voice, to MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE.] 
 Well! 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 99 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [To MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE.] Auntie? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Make haste, aunt Corisande ! 
 
 MRS. HEEBLETHWAITE. 
 [Diving for her handkerchief .] Ch-child-ren 
 
 DULCIE. 
 [Impatiently.] Oh, my goodness! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Children, the devil is in our midst. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Yes, yes; you've informed us of that. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 In a man's shape, you say? 
 DULCIE. 
 How does it concern Josepha? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Wiping her eyes.] Lottie Dulcie Miss 
 Quarendon has been kissed. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Kissed ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Josey has ! 
 
too PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 DULCIE. 
 When where? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 This afternoon in this house made love to 
 scandalously. 
 
 [JOSEPHA and MYRTLE strike up a duet. At 
 the same moment, BRABNER and KITTS 
 enter at the centre door with coffee 
 and liqueurs. MRS. PANMURE'S hand is 
 so unsteady that she upsets her coffee- 
 cup. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Feebly.} Pm sorry. [Declining.] No coffee. 
 [BRABNER comes to MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE 
 and the same accident occurs. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Oh ! How clumsy I am ! [Declining.] Xo 
 coffee. 
 
 [KiTTS brings the liqueurs to MRS. HEBBLE- 
 THWAITE and she waves him away. 
 BRABNER carries the coffee tray to 
 DULCIE who, with a shaky hand, 
 attempts to take a cup and fails. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Putting her hands behind her back with great 
 dignity.] Thank you; no coffee. [BRABNER and 
 KITTS are going out at the door on the left when she 
 calls to KITTS.] Kitts! [ KITTS returns.] You 
 pour me out a liqueur of brandy, [pointing to the 
 table behind the settee by the fireplace] and put 
 it down on that table without spilling any. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 101 
 
 [KiTTS does so and then follows BRABNER 
 into the next room. DULCIE closes the 
 door carefully after KITTS, killing the 
 sound of the music. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [To MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE.] Oh, auntie! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 [To MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE.] Who has done it? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Who is he? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 I've told you, that is what we have to get at. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 [Advancing.] But how do you know 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 I've heard it from her own lips. Her lips ! 
 [Rising and crossing to the left where she walks 
 about.} She has been kissed on the lips. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 The lips ! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [To MRS. PANMURE.] Don't be silly. Men 
 don't kiss girls on their noses. [To MRS. HEBBLE- 
 THWAITE.] Heard it from her? 
 

 102 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [Rising.] From Josepha herself? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Joining the others in the middle of the room;} 
 I was sitting here, dressed for dinner, reading a 
 hook " Beauties of English Country Life " and 
 she popped her head in at the door. She had been 
 looking for me wanted my advice 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 * Advice? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 She'd had a letter to-day from a friend Miss 
 Milly Something-or-other a governess like herself, 
 who'd been kissed, violently, by a man in the house. 
 No details were given. Her friend simply wished to 
 be advised as to whether she could continue in her 
 situation decently, holding her tongue. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 But what has this to do with Josepha ? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Shut up, Lottie ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Oh, I saw through it all in a moment. She was 
 shaking from head to foot, and her colour you re- 
 marked her colour ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 You didn't charge her with being the girl? 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 103 
 
 MKS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 I was hinting at it when Brabner brought in the 
 papers, and she crept out. Then I pumped 
 Brabner. Miss Quarendon has received no letter 
 to-day ; and she was as jolly as a sand-boy till we all 
 went upstairs after tea! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [Confused.] After tea? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Her mind working.] After tea! 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 And then in came Myrtle, inquiring for her. 
 Earlier in the evening the child had been to Miss 
 Josey's room and discovered the young lady in tears 
 and scrubbing her face. Myrtle asked what was 
 wrong, and the reply was, " Oh, I shall never get 
 my lips nice again ; never ! " 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 Oh, that fixes it ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Horrible ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Moving to the fireplace.] Infamous! 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [To MRS. PANMURE.] 'Now I hope you're 
 satisfied ! 
 
104 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 Satisfied ! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Bringing this person to The Clewers ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 There is nothing in this against Josey ! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 Nothing ! Do you believe that a man ever kisses 
 a girl ! However, we won't discuss that. [Tu 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE.] Did Miss Quarendon 
 come down again, I wonder, after the lot of us went 
 upstairs together? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Yes. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Yes. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 I came down, myself, at about seven o'clock, to 
 fetch my work, and I found a novel of hers in the 
 morning-room. It wasn't there before tea. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 I've a better piece of evidence than that. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 You have! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Your uncle Alfred your uncle Alfred ! He 
 he has admitted to me ! 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 105 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Opening her eyes.} Admitted ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 He has admitted having seen her downstairs after 
 tea. [Putting her hand to her bosom.] Oh, Lottie 
 oh, Dulcie ! [Sinking into the arm-chair by the 
 fauteuil-stool.] Oh, my dears! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Under her breath.] Oh-h-h! [To MRS. 
 PANMURE, in a whisper.] Crikey! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [To DULCIE.] No, no! [ DULCIE shrugs her 
 shoulders. MRS. PANMURE hurries to MRS. HEB- 
 BLETHWAITE.] Oh, no, auntie ! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Also going to MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE.] Im- 
 possible ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 She would never have had the effrontery, if uncle 
 Alfred had so far forgotten himself, to come to you 
 for advice. , 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Oh, she'd have the cheek to do anything. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Dulcie ! 
 
 MRS. HEBELETHWAITE. 
 
 [Tearfully.] My dears, this would not be the 
 first time your uncle has stabbed me to the heart. 
 
106 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Sitting upon the fauteuil-stooL] No! 
 Mus. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Years ago at Harrogate a creature in the hotel 
 a hussy with a ridiculous waist 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Taking MRS. HEBBLETH WAITERS hand.] Ah! 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 I walked on to the tennis-court one morning and 
 confronted them. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 [With zest.] What happened? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Struggling to her feet and walking away to the 
 right.] I was fined a shilling for damaging the 
 turf with my heels. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [To MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE.] With regard to 
 Miss Quarendon, you haven't positively accused 
 uncle Alfred, have you? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Not yet. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 He isn't the only man here. It does seem rather 
 unfair, I must say 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 107 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Suddenly.] Oh! 
 
 DULCIE and MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Turning to her.] Eh? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [Holding her head.] Oh-h-h ! 
 
 DULCIE and MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Lottie ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [Walking about.] Don't speak to me! 
 
 DULCIE and MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Hastening to her.] No, no ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [Appealingly.] Please! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 Dear old St. John ! He never gives her as much 
 as a glance. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 He doesn't dance attendance upon her, handing 
 her plates and dishes. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Not he ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Lottie, dearest -! 
 
io8 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Suddenly.] Oh! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE and MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Eh? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 Oh-h-h! [Drawing a deep breath.] Why, of 
 course ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Of course ? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Bursting into a peal of hard laughter.] Ha, ha, 
 ha, ha ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE and MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Clinging to her.] Dulcie ! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 Leave me alone ! [Walking about.] Yes, they've 
 commenced their coaching in good earnest ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Coaching ? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 He proposed getting her to give him an hour or 
 two's coaching three days a week ! Ha, ha ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Dulcie, calm yourself ! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 He said he'd make it thoroughly worth her wlqdle. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 109 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Bewildered.] I don't understand 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Seizing MRS. PANMURE and MRS. HEBBLE- 
 THWAITE.] Understand this, you people ! I haven't 
 much use for Hughie 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Dulcie ! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 But I'm two-and-thirty, and I missed my tip in 
 town ; and, such as he is, he's my prize-packet ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 Dulcie, listen ! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Extending her fingers.] And if I catch him 
 meddling with any other girl, or any girl meddling 
 with him, I wring her neck! [Sitting upon the 
 settee on the right.] Take notice, everybody! I 
 wring her neck ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Feebly.] Oh, Dulcie oh, aunt Coiisande how 
 can we be so sinful as to rush at conclusions in this 
 way! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 What are conclusions for? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 It's monstrous of us to credit those nearest and 
 
no PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 dearest to us with being capable of this crime; 
 monstrous ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Who is the villain, then? 
 
 MBS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Clasping her hands.] Heaven forgive me if I 
 do an injustice to a stranger within my gates ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Mr. Stulkeley Mr. Woodhouse ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 They are both bachelors! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Hughie is a bachelor. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 An engaged man is hardly a bachelor. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Married men are viler than bachelors. 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Starting up.] Bah! What are we jabbering 
 here for, among ourselves ! The thing to do is to 
 have her in. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [In a flutter.] And interrogate her ? 
 
PRESERVING MR. PAN MURE in 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Excitedly.} Yes, yes, yes ; and watch her throat. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Her throat ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Her throat. Children, your uncle was robbed of 
 some valuable shirt-studs at Christmas, and we 
 suspected an under-honsemaid. The police in- 
 structed us not to take our eyes off her throat while 
 she was answering our questions. If she gulped 
 
 DULCIE. 
 She was swallowing' a lie ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 It's an infallible test. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 And did she- ? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Swallow? Repeatedly. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 [Vindictively.} Ah! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 The worst of it was the little wretch ! she had 
 already swallowed the shirt-studs. 
 
H2 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 [MRS. PANMURE makes for the door on the 
 left with uncertain steps. On her way, 
 she picks up the liqueur-glass and puts 
 it to her lips. DULCIE rushes at her. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Taking the glass from her.] We are all feeling 
 faint, Lottie. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Taking the glass from DULCIE.] Thank you. 
 
 [MRS. PANMURE opens the door on the left. 
 The piano is heard again. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [Calling.] Josepha 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [To MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE.] Christopher 
 Columbus ! Spare me a drop, aunt ! 
 
 [MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE yields up the glass 
 and sits at the further side of the round 
 table. DULCIE seats herself upon the 
 settee on the right. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 Josepha Myrtle ! [The music ceases and 
 
 JOSEPHA and MYRTLE appear in the doorway.] 
 M} T rtle darling, I wish you to go to bed. 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 To bed ! 
 
PRESERVING MR. PAN MURE 113 
 
 MRS. PANMIIRE. 
 
 [Sitting at the round table.] Kun upstairs at 
 once and ring for Wilson. 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 [Advancing.] This is extremely abrupt. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 It is past nine. [Holding out her arms to 
 MYRTLE.] Good night. 
 
 MYRTLE. 
 
 [Drawing back.] No, mother; if you can dis- 
 pense with ceremonjr, I can. [At the door in the 
 centre, haughtily.] I shall remember this occasion, 
 if I live to be thirty. 
 
 [She departs and ascends the stairs. 
 JOSEPHA, on tip-toe, is about to follow 
 her. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 Josepha. [JOSEPHA halts.] Pray stay where 
 you are. Sit down. [JOSEPHA sits, facing the 
 round table, upon the fauteuil-stool. MRS. PAN- 
 MURE softens.] Oh ? Josey dear, is it true? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Almost inaudibly.] True? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 That you have been kissed? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 K-kissed? 
 
ii4 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 Oh^ Lottie, do be more explicit. Naturally, Miss 
 Quarendon has been kissed 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Allow me, Dulcie 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Often and often. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [To JOSEPHA.] I mean, by by some man 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Well, of course! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 The devil in disguise! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 In my house improperly 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 This afternoon. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Since tea. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [After a silence.] I am waiting for your reply, 
 Josepha. 
 
 [There is a further silence, and then 
 JOSEPHA pulls herself together. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PAN MURE 115 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Ho! [Rising.] Oh, I am perfectly well aware 
 what you are all driving at. [To MRS. HEBBLE- 
 THWAITE.] Fm very much obliged to you, Mrs. 
 Hebblethwaite. [Moving about, with a great dis- 
 play of indignation.] This is too bad; upon my 
 soul, it is ! It'll be a lesson to me till the end of my 
 life. When next I have a letter from a girl-pal 
 who's got into a bit of a hobble 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 Josey Josey dear 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Fm dashed if I go for counsel to a lady who has 
 an amiable and good-natured outside. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 Josey 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Oh ! To have the whole thing twisted round and 
 distorted! It's abominable ! That's what it is; it's 
 abominable ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 Josey, dear, when did you receive your friend's 
 letter? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Standing at the lack of the arm-chair by the 
 fauteuil- stool.] I've told Mrs. Hebblethwaite. [To 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE.] Mrs. Hebblethwaite, 
 didn't I tell you plainly and straightforwardly? 
 
n6 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 By the one o'clock post. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 By the second post. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 To-day? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Gulping.] T-t-to-day. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Under her breath.] Ah! [To MRS. PANMURE 
 and DULCIE, in a whisper.] Gulps! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Where is the letter? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Blankly.] Where is it? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Will you show it to us ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 S-show my friend's confidential letter ! 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 Tinder a strict pledge of secrecy. [A pause.] 
 Will you show it to me? [A pause.] You can 
 trust me, Josey. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 117 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Oh, I I know I can, Lottie; but I [Gulping.} 
 I've destro} r ed it. 
 
 [MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE nudges MRS. PAN- 
 MURE and signals to DULCIE. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [To JOSEPHA.] Destroyed it? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Torn it up. You don't keep a letter of that sort 
 by you. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [Solemnly.] Joseplm. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Yes? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 You have liad no letter to-day. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 In-indeed? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 No; according to Brabner. 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Brabner ! Brabner ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Neither to-day nor yesterday. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Ho ! Clever old Brabner ! So he has been 
 
n8 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 brought into it, has he? [Facing MRS. PANMURE.] 
 I say, Lottie, this isn't exactly playing the game. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 The game ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 To turn on a servant to help hound-down the 
 poor governess ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Josey ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Only he forgets one thing, the ancient, faithful 
 domestic ! He forgets that I may have met Shep- 
 perd, the postman, in the drive, and -taken my letter 
 from him. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Gladly, glancing at the others.] Ah, yes! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Ha, ha, ha! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 It can easily be ascertained whether that was so 
 or not. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 By referring to Shepperd. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 To-morrow. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Oh, but surely we can accept Josepha's word 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 119 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [To MRS. PANMURE.] I should like to put a 
 question to Miss Quarendon, Lottie. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [To JOSEPH A.] Josey ? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [To JOSEPHA.] Did you come downstairs again 
 this afternoon, Miss Quarendon ? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 After tea. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 After we had all gone to our rooms ? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Leaving the men here together. 
 
 MRS. PAXMURE. 
 [To JOSEPHA.] Josepha? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Boldly.] No. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 No? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Gulping.] No, I did not. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [Faintly.] Oh, dear! 
 
120 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [.To JOSEPHA.] I, grieve to have to inform you, 
 Miss Quarendon, that this doesn't tally with certain 
 facts which have come to our knowledge. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [To JOSEPHA.] You were seen downstairs after 
 tea. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Holding her heart.] By my by Mr. Hebble- 
 thwaite. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 If if Mr. Hebblethwaite declares that he saw 
 me, he [gulping] he is labouring under a delusion. 
 
 [MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE again makes signs to 
 MRS. PANMURE and DULCIE, agitatedly. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [To JOSEPHA.] I have found a book of yours, 
 Josepha a novel in the morning-room. It wasn't 
 there before we all moved upstairs. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 S-somebody must have left it there, Lottie. 
 DULCIE. 
 
 Ha! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Ah, yes; it must be the book I lent yesterday. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Lent? 
 
PRESERVING MR. PAN MURE 121 
 
 I 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 To whom? 
 
 MRS. PANMUBE. 
 To whom, Josey? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Wildly.] I I decline to answer. 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Ah! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 I won't I won't be treated any longer as if I 
 were a dishonest kitchen-maid. Lottie ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 Josepha, darling Myrtle has given my aunt an 
 account of what she heard and witnessed when she 
 went to your bedroom this evening. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 M-Myrtle ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 My innocent child. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [To JOSEPHA.] Bathing your face and rubbing 
 it as though you would remove the skin! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 What ! Can't I wash my face in this house with- 
 out its being used against me! 
 
again ! 
 
 122 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 And crying out, " I shall never get my lips nice 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Under her breath.] Oh! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 " I shall never get my lips nice again ; never ! " 
 
 [There is a pause, during which JOSEPHA is 
 quite still, and then MRS. PANMURE 
 rises and goes to her. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 Josepha, look me in the eyes. How do you ex- 
 plain that? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [In a low voice.} I I can't explain it, Lottie. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 You you have been lying to us ? 
 
 [JOSEPHA slowly draws the back of her hand 
 across her mouth. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE and DULCIE. 
 [Rising.] Ah! 
 
 [HEBBLETHWAITE enters at the door in the 
 centre followed by LORING and, after a 
 while, by PANMURE. JOSEPHA moves to 
 the fireplace and MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE 
 comes to DULCIE> 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 123 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [To MRS. PANMURE.] Lottie, my dear, Mr. 
 Stulkeley begs you to excuse him for half -an-hour ; 
 so does Mr. Woodhouse. They've shut themselves 
 up in the library. 
 
 LORING. 
 
 Beastly fag, politics ! Just fancy Stulkeley 
 grindin' away at his speech for to-morrow on top of 
 such a rippin' dinner ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [To HEBBLETHWAITE.] Uncle 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Eh? 
 
 LORING. 
 
 Best saddle o' mutton Pve ever tasted. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [To LORING.] Mr. Loring 
 
 LORING. 
 
 Your cook does jug a hare too, Mrs. Panmure. 
 Er pardon ? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Will you go into the next room for a few minutes ? 
 
 HEBBLETH WAITE. 
 [Surprised.] Next room? 
 LORING. 
 room? 
 
124 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 You will find some views of Switzerland there, in 
 an album. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Oh by all means. 
 
 , LORING. 
 
 [Not stirring.] Pleasure. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Gently pushing LORING towards the door on the 
 left.] Come along. [At the door, to MRS. PAN- 
 MURE, disturbed.] I I hope 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Joining MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE and DULCIE.] 
 Don't ask me now, uncle. [HEBBLETHWAITE and 
 LORING ivithdraw. As they disappear, PANMURE 
 advances with a startled look. Unseen by the 
 ladies, JOSEPHA faces him quickly and, putting her 
 finger to her lips, makes him a reassuring sign. At 
 the sound of the closing of the door on the left, 
 MRS. PANMURE turns to PANMURE.] St. John 
 
 Wha-wha-what- 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Steadily.] St. John dear, something very pain- 
 ful has taken place. [PANMURE stares at her 
 vacantly.] Horribly painful. 
 
 PANMUBE. 
 
 P-painf ul ? 
 
PRESERVING MR. PAN MURE 125 
 
 MES. PAN MURE. 
 
 I don't say that the smallest blame attaches itself 
 to Miss Quarendon to Josepha 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Except for her prevarication. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 Even that is understandable in the circumstances. 
 But the fact remains that she has been kissed. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 By a man. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Outrageously. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Here, this afternoon. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 [Inarticulately.] K-k-kissby Vman ? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 We've got to know of it by the merest accident. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Hurriedly.] Yes, I should like Mr. Panmure to 
 hear how it's all come out. [Addressing PANMURE.] 
 I'm not a sneak. No, I'm not a sneak. I never 
 meant to cause this trouble. But idiot that I am ! 
 I went to Mrs. Hebblethwaite and laid the case 
 
126 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 before her, pretending I was seeking advice on behalf 
 of a girl-friend. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Sarcastically.] MissMilly! 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Ha, ha! Oh, I did make a hash of it, Mr. 
 Panmure. Mrs. Hebblethwaite tumbled to the truth 
 almost at once. And then Myrtle gave away some- 
 thing I'd blurted out to her in my bedroom; and 
 after dinner Lottie and Mrs. Hebblethwaite and 
 Miss Anstice bowled me over completely. Oh, I 
 could knock my head against the wall for my 
 stupidity! [To the ladies, defiantly.] After all, 
 what is a kiss ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Oh! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Josey ! 
 
 DULOIE. 
 
 [To MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE.] Did you ever ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 A kiss ! Pah ! I've been kicking up a tremen- 
 dous fuss about nothing. I was flustered at the mo- 
 ment; but it was simply a bit of fun. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE, MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE, and 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Fun! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 On the part of the the other person. And 
 look here ! I recognise that Pm in disgrace, though 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 127 
 
 Lottie's kind enough to let me down lightly. So be 
 it ! I leave The Clewers to-morrow early to- 
 morrow. I'd be off to-night if it wasn't still snow- 
 ing. And there's an end of the business. [Going to 
 MRS. PANMURE.] Good-bye, Lottie. [Chokingly.] 
 S-s-sorry. I sha'n't try to see you in the morning 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [Sternly.] Josepha! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Y-yes ? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 I am shocked at you. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 S-s-shocked ? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 Such levity! Do you imagine the matter can be 
 passed over in this manner? [JOSEPHA sinks down 
 on to the fauteuil-stool. MRS. PANMURE goes to 
 PANMURE, who has retreated to the back and is 
 standing there with a relaxed body and an expres- 
 sionless face.] St. John 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Straightening himself and speaking in a thick 
 voice.] Hallo! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Touching his sleeve, trustingly.] You you are 
 master of this house. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 B-b-b'George, yes ! 
 
128 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 The affair is in your hands. I cannot I will not 
 go to my bed to-night till you have ascertained 
 who it is who has committed this gross impropriety. 
 [JOSEPHA suddenly sits upright with a deter- 
 mined air. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 I should think not, indeed ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Bed! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Bed! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [Motioning PANMURE towards JOSEPHA.] St. 
 
 John 
 
 [There is a pause and then PANMURE ap- 
 proaches JOSEPHA with painful delibera- 
 tion. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 M-m-miss Quarendon. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Well? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 You you you hear what Lottie what Mrs. 
 Panmure says ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 I'm not $eaf. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 V-v-very good. V-v-very good. Now, attend to 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 129 
 
 me. [Loosening his shirt-collar.] Attend to me. 
 Who who who is the feller? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Raising her head and looking at him fixedly.] 
 Nothing on earth would induce me to split on him. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 H-h-hey? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Nothing in the wide world. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Gaining courage.] M-m-miss Quarendon, d-d- 
 d-do you d-d-dare to to sit there and and and 
 treat me with defiance ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Absolute defiance. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Oh, St. John ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Blusteringly.] I I I demand I demand the 
 feller's name. [Hitting the palm of his hand with 
 his fist.] I demand it. 
 
 [MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE and DULCIE draw 
 . nearer. JOSEPHA glances at them. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 If you stand over me till daybreak, every one of 
 you, you won't succeed in getting anything out , 
 of me. 
 
130 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Going to MRS. PANMURE.] Really, Lottie! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Walking away to the lack.} Charming! 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Advancing and coming between JOSEPHA and, 
 PANMURE.] Josepha Josepha 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Wiping his brow.] Defied, b'George! Defied, 
 under my own roof ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 Josepha, you don't seem to see the consequences of 
 the attitude }^ou are taking up. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Doggedly.] Consequences? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 By shielding the guilty, you are casting suspicion 
 upon the innocent. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Flourishing his handkerchief.] Quite so. 
 Cas'piciononth'innocent. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 There are four men in this house five, if I 
 include my husband 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 131 
 
 JOSEPH A. 
 
 [Quickly.] Mr. Panmure ! [Shrugging her 
 shoulders.] Ho ! Obviously it wasn't Mr. Pan- 
 mure. [Rising.] There! I have told you some- 
 thing. [Deliberately.] It wasn't Mr. Panmure. 
 [MRS. PANMURE turns to PANMURE and, with closed 
 eyes, prints a remorseful kiss upon his cheek; where- 
 upon PANMURE, inflating his chest, moves to the 
 round table and picks up a newspaper.] And now 
 I'll relieve you of my company. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Coming forward, with DULCIE, on the left.] 
 Certainly not ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [To MRS. PANMURE.] You won't expect me at 
 prayers to-night, will you? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 Lottie ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Clinging to MRS. PANMURE.] Oh, don't let 
 them chivey me any more ; don't. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 Josepha dear, nobody wants to chivey you, as you 
 rather inelegantly term it. [Releasing herself.] 
 But you must perceive that the matter cannot rest 
 here. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [To JOSEPHA.] It's not enough, Miss 
 Quarendon, that you should exonerate only Mr. Pan- 
 mure. 
 
i 3 2 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Opening the newspaper impressively.} No, 
 Why am / specially favoured, s'like to know ? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [To JOSEPH A.] As Lottie says, you've got to 
 clear the innocent. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 It's a mere form, perhaps but but there is Mr. 
 Hebblethwaite, for instance 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Yes, there's dear ol' Alfred. 
 DULCIE. 
 And Mr. Loring. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Hughie Loring. Remember him in Eton jackets, 
 b' George ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Gently shaking JOSEPHA, who is staring before 
 her.] Josepha. 
 
 JOSEPH A. 
 
 [Dazed.] Yes, but if I clear first one and then 
 another you you 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 We we ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 You you'd arrive at the guilty party. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 133 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Precisely. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Now, come! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Shaking her head.] No no. 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Joseph a ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 I I I can't. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Can't? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 I can't. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Can't clear Mr. Hebblethwaite ! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Nor Mr. Loring! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Unsteadily.] I Pm going to my room. 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE and DULCIE. 
 
 Oh ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 I I'm going to pack. [She turns, to find 
 DULCIE standing before the door in the centre and 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE barring her way to the door 
 on the left. She stamps her foot fiercely.] Get 
 away! Get away! [To DULCIE.] Get away from 
 
134 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 that door. [ DULCIE, alarmed, retreats to the right 
 and JOSEPHA, uttering indignant cries, opens the 
 centre door.} Ah! Ah! 
 
 [She goes out and flies up the stairs. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Coming forward, much discomposed.] Oh, good 
 gracious ! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Also coming forward, laughing uncomfortably.] 
 Ha, ha, ha ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Oh, what a violent young woman ! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 Ha, ha ! One doesn't want one's eyes scratched 
 out. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 A perfect fury ! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Ill-conditioned little savage ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [To PANMURE, calmly.] St. John 
 
 PANMURE. 
 H-hallo ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Going to the fireplace.] Josepha Quarenclon's 
 anxiety to screen this libertine makes me more deter- 
 mined than ever. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 135 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Throwing his newspaper aside with an air of 
 resolve.] More'n'ever. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 The affair shall be fathomed. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 Fathomed, b'George ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Turning to him.] I repeat, the investigation is 
 in your hands. [Sitting majestically, with folded 
 arms, upon the settee by the fireplace.] Auntie 
 Dulcie we will wait here while St. John examines 
 uncle Alfred and Mr. Loring in the morning-room. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 [Moving to the right.] Yes. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Following DULCIE.] That's the next step. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 That's the next step. 
 
 [ DULCIE and MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE seat 
 themselves at the round table as PAN- 
 MURE slowly makes for the door on the 
 left. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Halting in the middle of the room with a dry 
 mouth.] L-Lottie. 
 
136 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Yes, dear? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 S-s-suppose Alfred and Hughie both of 'em 
 suppose they deny it? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 Then you will have another distressing task to 
 perform, St. John. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 Mother? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 In the library. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 Library ? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Looking at him significantly.] Mr. Stulkeley 
 Mr. Woodhouse ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [His jaw falling.] Oh ah yes; there's Stulk- 
 eley and Woodhouse, ain't there? [Lingering, 
 dully.] Stulkeley and Woodhouse. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Go, St. John. [Re makes a movement.] St. 
 
 John 
 
 PANMURE. 
 H-hey? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 Be firm. [He nods.] ^STo matter what it costs 
 you, be firm. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 137 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 E-rely on me, Lottie. [To MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE 
 and DULCIE, swelling himself out again.} Girls, 
 rely on me. 
 
 [With an important cough, he adjusts his 
 necktie, pulls down his waistcoat, and 
 marches to the door of the morning- 
 room. There he pauses, his hand on the 
 door handle, and draws a deep breath. 
 Then he disappears, leaving the three 
 ladies sitting grimly and fixedly. 
 
 END OF THE SECOND ACT. 
 
THE THIED ACT 
 
 The scene i$ a library. In the centre of the watt at 
 the back is a fireplace with a fender-stool before 
 it. A bright fire of wood is burning in a dog- 
 gratc. In the right-hand wall, a double-door 
 opens into the room from a passage; and in the 
 wall on the left, directly opposite the double- 
 door, there is a bay-window. 'Curtains of heavy 
 material are drawn across the opening to the 
 window-recess. 
 
 Boole-shelves laden with books almost en- 
 tirely conceal the rest of the walls; frut at the 
 back, between the fireplace and the right-hand 
 wall, there is a single door, light in substance, 
 furnished ivith dummy books so as to continue 
 the lines of the shelves. This door admits to a 
 small cabinet in which are a wash-stand, a ewer 
 of water, towels, etc., also a dressing -table with 
 a mirror above it. On the table is a set of hair- 
 brushes, under the table a pair of wool-ivork 
 slippers, and hanging from a peg is a braided 
 sm o king-jacke t. 
 
 A little smoking-table and a capacious arm- 
 chair stand on either side of the fireplace. In 
 the left-hand corner of the room there is a 
 settee, in the right-hand corner a large circular 
 table with newspapers and magazines upon it. 
 i39 
 
i 4 o PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 Facing the window are a writing-table and 
 chair, and on the other side of the room a small 
 oblong table and an arm-chair. ' A writing-case 
 containing papers is on the oblong table. 
 
 The room is lighted by shaded lights in 
 sconces and by a lamp on the writing-table. 
 [WOODHOUSE, pen in hand, is seated at the 
 writing-table. Some sheets of writing- 
 paper, covered with notes, are before 
 him. STULKELEY is standing with his 
 back to the fire, dictating. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Stroking his brow.] Let me see; let me see. 
 What shall I touch upon next? 
 
 WOODIIOUSE. 
 [ Yawning. ] Oh-h-h-h ! Pig-iron ? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 No, no; Hebblethwaite is dealing with pig-iron. 
 He's splendid on pig-iron ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 I really shouldn't have given him pig-iron, if I'd 
 been you, Reggie. We're not at all bad on pig-iron. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Ignoring WOODHOUSE'S comment.] Ah, yes, 
 yes ; the duties already existing on imported food ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Not again! We fed ? em with that, to-day at 
 Shobdon. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PAN MURE 141 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 My dear fellow, do remember that a harp has only 
 a certain number of strings. [Dictating.] ' Tax- 
 ation of food and other necessaries of life no new 
 thing." [Softly, as WOODHOUSE writes.} No new 
 thing no new thing 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Writing.} " no new thing." 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [To WOODHOUSE.] Enumerate the various arti- 
 cles of taxed food. 
 
 WOODTIOUSE. 
 [Writing, wearily.} " Sugar tea 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Beginning to share WOODIIOUSE'S fatigue.\ 
 " Figs plums prunes 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Writing.] " Figs plums prunes 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 " Eaisins cocoa [Breaking off.] Cocoa ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Writing.] " Eaisins cocoa coffee currants 
 chicory." 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Isn't there something I particularly wished to say 
 about cocoa? 
 
i 4 2 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 I'm blessed if I know. I'm getting stale on it all, 
 frankly. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Searching among the contents of the writing- 
 case on the oblong table.] Cocoa. Where is cocoa? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceil- 
 ing.] Damn cocoa! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Finding a scrap of paper.} Here it is! "Co- 
 coa." I was sure I had a memorandum on the sub- 
 ject. [Reading.] "Instance of scientific protec- 
 tion practised by our opponents/' [Tossing the 
 memorandum back into the writing-case and dic- 
 tating.} "Cocoa." 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Yawning again.} Oh-h-h-h! [Writing.] "Co- 
 coa." 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 "Instance of s-s-scientific [Yawning.] 
 
 Oh-h-h-h ! Your yawning is contagious,, my dear 
 Talbot. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Yawning.] S-s-sorry. [Writing.] " sci- 
 entific protection practised by our opponents." 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Yawning.] " C-c-case of cocoa oh-h-h! case 
 of cocoa one of especial interest." 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 143 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Yawning as he writes.] " C-a-case of c-c-co- 
 
 coa " 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 I think if I plunged my face in a little cold 
 water 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Excellent idea. [Rising with alacrity.} I'll 
 smoke another cigarette while you're doing it. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Taking off his coat.] I suspect that we are both, 
 more or less, in the throes of indigestion. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Producing his cigarette case.] A confoundedly 
 stodgy dinner, lieggie ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Laying his coat upon the arm-chair by the oblong 
 table.] Very. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Well-intentioned people the Panmures 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Turning up his shirt-cuffs.] A kindly host and 
 hostess. 
 
 WOODIIOUSE. 
 
 [Lighting a cigarette.] But, if the criticism may 
 be allowed, the entire repast was nauseous in the ex- 
 treme. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Entering the washing -cabinet and switching on 
 
144 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 the light.] It failed to reach the level of last night, 
 undoubtedly. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Standing before the fire, smoking.] Last night 
 the cook, whom I picture as an elderly female of 
 opulent physical proportions last night the cook 
 evidently shot her bolt. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Pouring water into the basin.] Not only was 
 the dinner unsatisfactory in a material sense., my 
 dear Talbot, but a curious air of oppression seemed 
 to hang over the table. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Cause and effect. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Dousing his face.] Perhaps. 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 The soup was described as mock-turtle. I don't 
 dispute the fidelity of the imitation, but the particu- 
 lar turtle that was mocked must have lived on a diet 
 consisting mainly of glue. Then the cod-fish ; 
 woolly as a blanket ! And a more underdone frag- 
 ment of meat than my slice of mutton I have never 
 seen off a butcher's board. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Wiping his face upon a towel.] Mrs. Panmure 
 was so absent-minded that I could scarcely wring a 
 syllable from her. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 No wonder, poor dear lady ! 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 145 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Miss Anstice, too ! Last night, quite entertain- 
 ing. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 7 was afflicted, on one side of me, with the com- 
 panionship of Miss Panmure. I really shall com- 
 municate with the secretary of the Zoological So- 
 ciety concerning that young person. Nobody but 
 he can classify her with accuracy. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Appearing in the doorway of the cabinet with a 
 hair-Brush.] Even my fascinating little friend Miss 
 Quarendon had lost some of her usual vivacity. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Affecting indifference.] Had she? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Didn't you notice it ? She was on your other side. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Er I fancy I did. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Brushing his hair.] Still, it's a pleasure to con- 
 template Miss Quarendon, whether she is talking or 
 is silent. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Shortly.] Charming girl; charming. 
 
146 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Lost in meditation.] Most attractive; m-o-s-t 
 attractive. [WOODHOUSE frowns in the direction of 
 STULKELEY, flings his cigarette into the fire, and 
 walks about impatiently. STULKELEY rouses him- 
 self and completes the brushing of his hair before 
 the mirror.] Ha! What an extraordinary coinci- 
 dence ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [ Sourly. ] Coincidence ? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 My acquaintance with her delightful old father. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 My dear chap, you said yesterday that you'd only 
 a hazy recollection of old Quarendon. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 I er I've been refreshing my memory. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Clearly. To-day, you and he appear to have been 
 cronies. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Switching off the light in the cabinet and emerg- 
 ing.] You will always exaggerate, Talbot. [Shut- 
 ting the door.] A man may enjoy a tolerably close 
 friendship with another without being exactly a 
 " orony." [Turning down his shirt-cuffs, coldly.] 
 However, we won't waste time in discussing the pre- 
 cise terms of my intimacy with Colonel Quarendon. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 147 
 
 [Resuming his coat.] Shall we get to work again? 
 [WOODHOUSE, with an ill grace, returns to his seat 
 at the writing-table.] Where were we? 
 
 WOODIIOUSE. 
 Oh, cocoa. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Taking up his former position at the fireplace.] 
 Yes, yes; cocoa. 
 
 WOODIIOUSE. 
 
 [Reading his notes.] " Case of cocoa " Case of 
 cocoa what ? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Case of cocoa one of especial interest, I think I 
 was going to observe. [A faint "but sharp knocking 
 is heard. STULKELEY looks towards the door on the 
 right.] Come in ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Writing.] " one of especial interest/' 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Dictating.] " Now ah there is h'm there 
 is raw cocoa and er there is manufactured co- 
 coa." [The knocking is repeated.] Where is that 
 knocking? [ WOODIIOUSE sits up and listens. Again 
 the knocking is heard.] Is it at the window, Talbot? 
 [ WOODHOUSE rises and passes through the curtains 
 hanging across the window-recess. STULKELEY mur- 
 murs to himself.] There is raw cocoa and there 
 is er manufactured cocoa. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Out of sight.] Lor ? bless my soul! 
 
148 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 JOSEPHA'S VOICE. 
 
 Mr. Woodhouse 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 My dear Miss Quarendon ! 
 
 JOSEPHA'S VOICE. 
 
 Is Mr. Stulkeley ? ' 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Quick ! Get in ! 
 
 [WOODHOUSE draws one of the curtains aside 
 and JOSEPHA appears, dressed as in the 
 preceding act, with flushed cheeks and a 
 feverish sparMe in her eyes. She has a 
 filmy scarf round her shoulders and 
 there are glistening particles of snow 
 upon the scarf and in her hair. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Breathlessly.] Oh, dear me! [Dropping her 
 skirt.] Thank you. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Advancing to her.] Miss Quarendon! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 I'm afraid I was rather impatient, but it's such 
 a fearful night. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 You've come through the garden ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Yes. [Shaking the snow from her hands and 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 149 
 
 arms as WOODHOUSE^ after having fastened the win- 
 dow, hurries from behind the curtain.] I hope 
 I'm not bothering you. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Not in the least. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Helping her to unwind her scarf.} Permit me. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Getting hold of one end of the scarf.] I'll shake 
 it. 
 
 [The men each holding an end of the scarf, 
 pull it away from one another. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Oh, don't tear my lovely scarf ! 
 
 [WOODHOUSE secures the scarf and proceed* 
 to shake it vigorously in the left-hand 
 corner of the room. 
 STULKELEY. 
 [To JOSEPHA.] Are your shoes wet? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Looking down at her toes.] Xothing to speak 
 of. I ran like mad till I got to the verandah. 
 [STULKELEY has produced his handkerchief and is 
 flicking her hair with it.] Thank you, thank you, 
 so much. [WOODHOUSE throws the scarf upon the 
 settee and joins in the operation.] The snow must 
 be seven or eight inches deep in some places. It 
 isn't going to lie, though. There are signs of a 
 drizzle already. [One of the handkerchiefs flicks 
 her eye.] Oh ! 
 
I5o PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 My dear Talbot ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 My dear Reggie! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [To JOSEPHA.] T bpy your pardon. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [To JOSEPHA.] Which of us did it? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Blinking.] All righ't; it doesn't matter. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [To WOODHOUSE.] Make up the fire. [To 
 JOSEPHA.] Come to the fire. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 The fire! I'm burning as it is. [Going to the 
 chair ~by the oblong table and then turning to ad- 
 dress STULKELEY.] T dare say you are awfully sur- 
 prised at my intruding myself upon you in this way. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 There can be no question of intruding. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 No, but blowing in at the window as if I were a 
 microbe ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Well, I I confess I 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 151 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Earnestly.] I'll tell you. I don't want my visit 
 to you to be known. It mustn't be known. So, to 
 avoid being seen by any one, I crept down the ser- 
 vants' staircase and let myself out at the trades- 
 men's door and sprinted through the grounds. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Raising his eyebrows.} Can you get back with- 
 out being discovered ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [With a shrug and a wan smile.} With luck. 
 All life is luck, it seems to me. [Indicating Ike 
 door on the right.] Do you mind turning the key, 
 in case we should be interrupted? 
 
 [WOODHOUSE, ivlio has replenished the fire, 
 hastens to the door and there pauses. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [To STULKELEY, reluctantly.] Er shall I 
 
 er ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [To WOODHOUSE.] Oh, no, please don't; there's 
 no necessity for that. In fact, I I think I should 
 prefer you remaining. [WooDiiousE locks the 
 door.] Thank you, ever so much. [To both the 
 men.} Of course, this is in deadly confidence? 
 
 STULKELEY. ' 
 [Moving away to the writing-table.} My dear 
 
 child *! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 My dear young lady ! 
 
152 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [To JOSEPHA.] Pray pray sit down. [She sits. 
 WOODHOUSE retires to the fireplace.] To what do I 
 owe the ah the gratification ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Forcing a laugh.} Ha, ha ! The beginning of a 
 job is always the hardest part of it, isn't it? [Ner- 
 vously stroking the arm of her chair.] M-M-Mr. 
 Stulkeley, you you knew my father. 
 
 STULKELLY. 
 Er ah yes. I had that privilege. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 And, judging from what you said to me this morn- 
 ing, you feel a certain amount of interest in his 
 daugher. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Shunning WOODHOUSE'S eye, which is upon 
 him.] A er a very considerable interest, 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 And that emboldens me to approach you in this 
 unceremonious fashion, and to to ask a trifling 
 favour of you. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 I assure you, anything that lies in my power 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Meeting his gaze.] I'm leaving The Clewers to- 
 morrow. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 153 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Leaving ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Early in the morning. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Ruefully.} To-morrow morning! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [To STULKELEY.] Abrupt, isn't it? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 It does strike me as somewhat 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 I've been upstairs, in my room, collecting my 
 vast possessions; [dropping her eyes] and suddenly, 
 in a flash, an inspiration came to me. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Inspiration ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 I I'm anxious before I go to smooth out a little 
 difficulty I've got into. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Difficulty? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Well, that I've got other people into, is how I 
 ought to put it, I suppose. [Studying the carpet.] 
 
 M-M-Mr. Stulkeley [Pie advances a step or two.] 
 
 I I've been kissed, 
 
154 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Kissed ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Nodding.] This afternoon, by one of the men 
 in the house. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Er objectionably ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Nodding again.] H'm. The ladies were rest- 
 ing and I was downstairs alone. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Coming forward.] Good gracious ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 It was so unexpected. Before I could wriggle 
 away [drawing her hand across her lips] puh! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Blackguard ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Who is the scoundrel? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Unfortunately, after giving him my solemn word 
 that I wouldn't blab, Fve gone and let it out. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 To- ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 To the ladies. You see, I was perplexed as to 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 155 
 
 what course I ought to follow, and I invented a 
 cramraer about its having- happened to a girl-friencl 
 of mine. And one of the ladies, whose advice I 
 asked, grasped the true state of affairs; and then 
 they all went for me, and I was compelled to own 
 up. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Serves the brute right ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 It is impossible to feel the smallest sympathy 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Quickly.] Oh, no; you don't understand me. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 I understand 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 No, ro ; I haven't revealed the man's name. [Ris- 
 ing and going to STULKELEY] That's what brings 
 me to you. [Smiling into his face winningly.] 
 T-t-this is where the inspiration conies in. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Ah, yes; the the inspiration. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Bracing herself for an effort.] M-M-Mr. 
 Stulkeley, it has occurred to me that perhaps you 
 perhaps you'd be sweet enough to to oblige me 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Oblige you ? 
 
156 PRESERVING MR. PANMURB 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 B-b-by by taking it on yourself. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Taking it on myself ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Allowing me to tell the ladies that you did it. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Horrified.] My dear Miss Quarendon! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Oh, but wait ! You don't give me time to explain. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 I fear, no explanation 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Yes, it will. When I found what a miserable 
 muddle I'd made of things, I declared to the ladies 
 that the whole business had been simply a bit of fun. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Fun? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 I was foolishly indignant at the moment, I told 
 them, but it had been nothing but a harmless frolic. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 They didn't believe you? 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 157 
 
 . JOSEPH A. 
 
 Xo, because they're in such a frightful panic over 
 their men-folk. But if you would only let me say 
 that you're the person 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [With a gesture.] Oh ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 An old friend of my father's ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 A friend of a young lady's father does not 
 
 ah 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Yes, he doc*. At any rate, he mifjlii. [Turning 
 to WOODHOUSE.] Mightn't he, Mr. Woodhouse ? 
 [Appealingfy.] Mr. Woodhouse ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Judicially.] Since you do me the honour of 
 soliciting my opinion 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 I can quite conceive that a man of my cousin's 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Stiffly.] My dear Talbot- 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [To STULKELEY.] Oh, don't stop him! 
 
158 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [With a touch of malevolence.] Considering, too, 
 the remarkable intimacy which apparently existed 
 between him and your late father 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Yes? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 I repeat, I can quite conceive that, in a semi- 
 parental spirit 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 That's it! That's it! [To STULKELE*/.] Par- 
 ental ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 My dear Miss Quarendon 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Ah, oblige me ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 The parental spirit and I can imagine few 
 forms of affection more beautiful the parental 
 spirit does not, I submit, incite a man to embrace a 
 young lady, playfully or otherwise, in such a man- 
 ner as to cause her embarrassment or alarm. [Bow- 
 ing.] I grieve not to be able to fall in with your 
 suggestion. [Withdrawing to the fireplace.] For- 
 give me. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 \Half in petulance, half in distress.] Oh! oh! 
 [Moving to the writing-table.] Oh, how disoblig- 
 ing! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Opening his arms.] Besides, why on earth 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 159 
 
 should the actual culprit be treated with so much 
 indulgence? I would spare him no suspense, no 
 agony of mind ; not a scintilla.' 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Sitting at the writing-table and, with her el- 
 bows upon it, digging Tier fingers into her hair.] 
 Oh, dear me ! Oh, dear me ! 
 
 'STULKELEY. 
 
 Whether he is to be exposed or not, he deserves to 
 be made as uneasy as possible. 
 
 JOSEPHA, 
 
 Yes, but all the men don't deserve to be made 
 uneasy; nor do the women. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Knitting his brows.} Who are the men? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Reckoning.] Mr. Pnmnure 
 
 JOSHPPIA. 
 
 [Turning in her chair hastily.} Ah, no, it wasn't 
 Mr. Panmure. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Not Mr. Panmure. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Xo; that's just who it wasn't. I've cleared him. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 That leaves us Mr. Mr. 
 
160 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Loring. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Shocked.} Engaged to Miss Anstice! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 And Hebblethwaite. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Throwing up his hands.] Great heavens! 
 
 JOSEPH A. 
 [ To STULKELEY and WOODHOUSE.] And you two. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Eh ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Mr. Panmure being out of it, it lies between -the 
 four of you. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [El anllij.} The four of us ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 The four of us ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [To JOSEPHA.] My dear Miss Quarendon! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Going to STULKELEY.] My dear Eeggie! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [To WOODHOUSE.] My dear fellow! 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 161 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 The four of us ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 The four of us ! 
 
 [Going to JOSEPPIA.] My dear young lady, what- 
 ever pledge may have been extorted from you by 
 this tli is this reptile, surely it is due to those to 
 whom chivalry is not ah is not yet a dead let- 
 ter 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Shaking her head.] No, no; I can't. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 You can't 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 I can't give up the guilty party. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 But you can exculpate 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 No ; I won't .supply the slightest clue. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Oh, but really ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Turning from him.] Don't; don't! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 You must listen to reason; you really must. 
 
162 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 [Magnanimously.] I am thinking more of my 
 cousin Reggie than of myself; I am,, positively. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Walking about on the right, perturbed.] Non- 
 sense ; nonsense ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 A man of his standing a man in public life! 
 That there should be a question even of his .being 
 capable of such a hideous breach of hospitality ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Intolerable ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Assuming that the affair remains within the area 
 of conjecture, these ladies are bound to gossip. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Dreadful ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 And once a scandal of this sort gets wind 
 
 JOSEPH A. 
 [Her face suddenly lighting up.] Ah! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Eh? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Rising and seizing his hand.] Mr. Wood- 
 house ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Startled.] Y-y-yes? 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 163 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Will you do it? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 What ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Take it on yourself ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 I! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Oh, be sweet to me ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Sweet ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Oblige me! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 \ Freeing his hand.] My clear Miss Quarendon ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Chivalry with yon isn't a dead letter; you've just 
 said so. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [At a loss.] I ah really 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Yes, yes ; I quite see that it would be a little un- 
 fair to saddle it on to Mr. Stulkeley; but you 
 you're different, aren't you? [Running across to 
 STULKELEY.] Mr. Stulkeley dear Mr. Stulkeley 
 persuade him ! [Linking her arm in STULKELEY^S.] 
 Ah! 
 
164 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 I er I have no right, Miss Quarendon, to at- 
 tempt to put pressure upon Mr. Woodhouse 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Not pressure ; persuasion ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Releasing himself.] All that I am entitled to do 
 is^to express a view a view which I hold very 
 strongly 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Well ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 That it would be far less extravagant to credit 
 anything of the nature of an unseemly action to my 
 cousin Talbot than to myself. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Turning to WOODHOUSE.] There! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Upon my word, Reggie ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [At WOODHOUSE'S side.] Oblige me! Oblige 
 me ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Edging away from her.] I regret I regret pro- 
 foundly 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 165 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 You won't ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Impossible ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Oh! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Absolutely impossible ! [Scowling at STULK- 
 ELEY.] Really, my dear "Reggie! 
 
 [He retreats in disorder to the fireplace. 
 There is a pause. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [To loth the men.] So neither of you ? 
 [They hang their heads.} Thank you. [Bitterly.} 
 How how disobliging! [In a dreary voice, the 
 men eying her furtively.} Oh, la, la! I suppose 
 I'd better make another rush for it, and get on with 
 my packing. [Snatching up her scarf.} If I'm 
 pounced upon, I don't care. [Moving to the win- 
 dow,] I don't care what becomes of me henceforth. 
 [Halting.] Xo, by Jove, I won't go into the house 
 yet awhile! [To the men, passionately.] If you 
 look out of the window for the next half-hour, you'll 
 have the pleasure of seeing me tramping steadily to- 
 and-fro in the snow and slush. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Miss Quarendon 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 My dear Miss Quarendon 
 
166 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Yes, your consciences'll prick you, perhaps, when 
 you realise what you have done. [Confronting 
 them.] I mean it! I swear I don't go into the 
 house again till I've caught a jolly good cold on the 
 chest a fatal one. You watch ! To-and-f ro, to- 
 and-fro, ankle-deep, and with a bare throat ! [Nod- 
 ding.] Farewell to you! [Rolling her scarf into a 
 ball and flinging it towards the men.] Here! I 
 shan't need that ! 
 
 [She passes through the curtains, dropping 
 them behind her, and there is the sound 
 of the opening and the closing of the 
 window. The men stare at each other, 
 dumfounded. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [After a silence.] Talbot. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Dazed.] Eh ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 She's not in earnest? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 J Shutting his eyes.] I could drink a whiskey-and 
 a. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 She can't be in earnest, Talbot ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 As a rule, it's a drink I detest 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 167 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Go go and look. [WOODHOUSE vanishes through 
 the curtains. STULKELEY picks up the scarf and 
 unconsciously presses it to his bosom. Presently 
 WOODHOUSE reappears.] W-Well? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 I can't see her. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 She's not fulfilling her threat! 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Evidently. 
 
 [They breathe more freely. STULKELEY sits 
 in the chair by the oblong table with 
 assumed composure. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 She she meant merely to frighten us. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Coming to STULKELEY and standing over him.} 
 .Reggie, let this be a lesson to you. Xever depart 
 from the strict truth in order to gain an advantage 
 over a pal. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Haughtily.} I I don't 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 It's my firm conviction that your acquaintance 
 with old Quarendon is pure romance, devised to in- 
 gratiate yourself with a pretty gal. W T e owe Miss 
 Josey's infernal inspiration to you. 
 
168 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Rising with great dignity] My dear Talbot, to 
 instruct you in the elementary principles of logic is 
 a task for which I have neither leisure nor inclina- 
 tion ; but a moment's reflection should convince even 
 a man of untrained intelligence that Miss Quaren- 
 don's regrettable impulse arose primarily from no 
 act of mine, but from the circumstance of her having 
 been annoyed this afternoon by an amorous ruffian. 
 [Turning to the writing-case and cramming the 
 scarf into it.[ Er look out once more. 
 
 [WOODHOUSE goes to the curtains and peeps 
 through them. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Leaving the window.} Nothing. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 We will resume our work at the point at which 
 we were disturbed. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Thoroughly out of temper.] Cocoa! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Cocoa. [STULKELEY returns to the fireplace as 
 WOODHOUSE reseats himself at the writing-table.] 
 Where ? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Examining his notes angrily.] We'd got to some 
 piffle about the raw stuff and the manufactured. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 169 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Yes, yes. [Dictating.] " There is raw cocoa and 
 there is manufactured cocoa." 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Tsch ! [As he writes.] We should have been 
 much better off if we'd quartered ourselves at a 
 beastly inn in the beastly town. [Writing.] " 
 manufactured cocoa/' 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Dictating.] " Both are taxed under the present 
 system." 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [As he writes.] I loathe a psalm-singing house- 
 hold. You mark me Mother Panmure will pray 
 for us all to-night openly before the servants. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Dictating.] " The raw material pays a penny 
 
 per pound " 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Leaning back in his chair and holding his head.] 
 Oh, my dear Eeggie, how can you ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 How can I ? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Hammer away at this tosh ! You're forgetting 
 that we may be mixed up are mixed up in a dis- 
 graceful mess. 
 
i;o PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 On the contrary, I am fully alive to it. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Well, but but but what do you intend to do? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [With a statesmanlike air.] In my judgment, 
 there is only one thing to be done. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 What's that? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 To wait and see. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Wait and see ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Wait and see what happens. [Dictating.] " The 
 raw material pays a penny per pound." 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Ugh! [.46- lie writes.] Gross impertinence to 
 suspect me of such an offence ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 To suspect us! 
 
 WOODIIOUSE. 
 [Writing.] " a penny per pound/' 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Dictating.] " The manufactured article pays 
 twopence per pound." 
 
PRESERVING MR. PA^MURE 171 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Jumping up and going to STULKELEY.] Blow 
 the manufactured article! Who the devil is the 
 cad, Beggie? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 I gravely distrust Hebblethwaite. These florid, 
 plethoric men ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Resentfully.] And we've given him pig-iron! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 It must be he or Miss Dulcie's fiance. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Or Panmure. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Xo, no didn't you hear ? she has absolved Pan- 
 mure. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Palling at a tiny moustache.] She's tremen- 
 dously eager to save somebody. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Pointing to the writing-table.] Shall we ? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Returning to the writing-table thoughtfully.] 
 What puzzles me is, why should she go out of her 
 way to whitewash one person ? 
 
172 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Dictating.] " The manufactured article pays 
 twopence per pound." 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Halting at the chair by the writing-table.] 
 Hark! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Eh? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Listening.] Raining. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Listening.] Heavily. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 She said it had begun to drizzle. [Again going to 
 the curtains and peering through them.] Pish! 
 Blinding. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [To himself.] The raw material pays a penny 
 per pound, manufactured it pays double. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Uttering a cry.] Ah ! 
 
 [Pie dashes through the curtains. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 What ! [He is making for the window when 
 WOODHOUSE reappears with a look of horror.] 
 Talbot ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 She's there ! 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 173 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 No! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 She's there, I tell you ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Oh! [He disappears through the curtains. 
 WOODHOUSE paces the room agitatedly until STULK- 
 ELEY returns.} There is a figure moving about. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 A figure! It's she! It's that exquisite little 
 creature ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Merciful powers ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Coming to STULKELEY.] Oh, my dear Eeggie! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 A cruel situation to be placed in ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Oughtn't we to send a message ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 To whom ? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 To the Panmures. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Crossing to the right.} My dear Talbot, that 
 would involve us still further. [Pacing the room.} 
 What would these good people think? 
 
174 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Turning up his trousers.] We can't have her 
 death at our door. [Turning up his coat-collar.] 
 We must get her in. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 She'll accept that as a tacit consent to her prepos- 
 terous proposal. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Turning down his coat-collar.] Damn it, I wish 
 she'd never been born. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 And I, fervently. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Peering through the curtains again.] An im- 
 petuous, blundering little minx ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Close the curtains. She sees you peeping. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Yearningly.] Her pretty neck ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 She'll soon tire of her martyrdom, if we ignore 
 her. Close the curtains. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Leaving the window.] I hate her! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [At the fireplace.] Anyhow, we must protect our- 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 175 
 
 selves. [Pointing to the writing-table impera- 
 tively.] Where were we? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Weakly.} Oh, my dear old chap ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 For heaven's sake, Talbot, pull yourself together ! 
 [ Firmly. ] Cocoa. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Dropping into the chair at the writing-table and 
 feeling for his pen.] I hate her! [Reading his 
 notes confusedly.] " Th'rawmateria'payspennyper- 
 pounV 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Dictating, his fists tightly clenched.] " Manu- 
 factured manufactured it pays double." 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Listening.] What's that? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Listening.] Hail. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Hail ! [Leaning his head upon his hands.] Oh! 
 oh, her pretty skin ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Unsteadily.] "Manufactured it pays 
 double." 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [ Writing. ] " Manu f actured " 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Suddenly, turning up his trousers.] Tal- 
 bot ! 
 
i;6 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Eh? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 I can't bear it! [Turning up his coat-collar. \ 
 More wood on the fire ! [Hurrying to the window.] 
 Make the room warmer! 
 
 [He bolts through the curtains. With an ex- 
 clamation, WOODHOUSE leaps to his feet 
 and proceeds to throw log after log into 
 the grate. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Oh! [Throwing a log.] Oh! [Another log.} 
 The little pet. [A log.} Oh, the little flower ! [A 
 log.] Dainty little rosebud ! [Beating the logs with 
 the poker.] Little garden of roses ! Oh ! Oh ! 
 [The curtains are parted and JOSEPHA is almost 
 hurled into the room. Her dress is heavy with wet. 
 tails of hair Jiang over her eyes } and altogether she is 
 in a deplorable condition.] My dear little lady! 
 [STULKELEY appears, blown.] 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [To JOSEPHA, wiping his face with his handker- 
 chief.] I I beg your pardon. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Sullenly, rubbing her arms and panting.} I'm 
 not accustomed to such rough usage. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Turning down his coat-collar and trousers.] 
 There was no time for formalities. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PAN MURE 177 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 This house is a nest of savages ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Don't say that ! 
 
 JOSEPIIA. 
 
 [Beginning to cry.} Oh, what a fool I have made 
 of myself ! 
 
 STULKELEY and WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Soothingly.] No, no ! 
 
 JOSEPIIA. 
 I have ; but I was so d-d-d-disappointed. 
 
 STULKELEY and WOODHOUSE. 
 Yes, yes. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 I was m-m-m-mad. [Sobbing.] I repented al- 
 most as soon as I'd left you. [Surveying herself 
 helplessly.] Oh, what shall I do! [Examining 
 her dress.] Ele ven-and-a-half -guineas ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Pointing to the fire.] Dry yourself here. 
 
 JOSEPIIA. 
 
 Dry myself! I'm soaked through to my I'm 
 wet through. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Of course ! How stupid I am ! You must get 
 back to your room. 
 
178 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Her teeth chattering.] I-I-I'm shut out. I-I-I 
 heard the servants locking up. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 She 1 can stay here till we're all at prayers. That's 
 her chance of sneaking upstairs. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Ah, yes; I have excused myself from prayers. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Looking at his watch.] Every minute is a nail 
 in her coffin. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Kicking off her shoes.] If I keep on the move 
 
 [ WOODHOUSE picks up her shoes and carries them to 
 
 the fire.] Oh, thank you awfully. [To both.] You 
 
 are good to me ; and after my outrageous conduct ! 
 
 [She walks about the room, holding her arms 
 
 away from her sides. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Seized with an idea.] Ah ! 
 
 [He goes to the washing-cabinet, opens the 
 door, and switches on the light. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [On the left, shivering.] Oh-h-h-h ! Oh-h-h-h! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [To JOSEPHA.] Miss Quarendon ! 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 179 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Y-y-y-yes ? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 There's a smoking-jacket in here and a pair of 
 slippers. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 S-mo-mo-moking- jacket ? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 I entreat you I entreat you to guard against 
 catching a chill. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Oh, I cou-ou-ouldn't ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Apart from the risk you are running, you must 
 be so horribly uncomfortable! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Uncomfortable ! Oh ! 
 
 [She wavers, rushes to the washing -cabinet, 
 enters it, and STULKELEY closes the 
 door. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [After a brief pause.] Ha! [To WOODHOUSE.] 
 A happy thought, I flatter myself ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Enviously.] Stupendous ! I congratulate you 
 on your amazing resource. 
 
i8o PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Stiffly.] It may be the means at least of avert- 
 ing a serious illness. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Sneering.] Oh, at least. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Walking about.] Dear me, dear me, what an in- 
 justice I did her ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Yes, you didn't hesitate to insinuate 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 I admit I candidly admit her threat of self- 
 destruction appeared to me to lack ingenuousness. 
 I owe her a most abject apology. I I I grovel at 
 her feet. Anybody more entirely without guile Fve 
 never met. [Halting and regarding WOODHOUSE 
 significantly.] I cannot understand your decided 
 antipathy to her, my dear Talbot. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [ Cli oking. ] Antipathy ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Hating her, as you say you do. [In a transport.] 
 Her nature, unless I am egregiously mistaken her 
 nature is like crystal. [With a change of tone, 
 glancing at the door of the cabinet.] It will be deli- 
 cate of us to show Miss Quarendon that we are en- 
 grossed in work. [Pointing to the writing-table.] 
 Let us 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 181 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Grinding his teeth.] Cocoa? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Cocoa. [ WOODHOUSE takes his seat at the writing- 
 table again, first kicking the chair viciously.] 
 
 Where ? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Referring to his notes.] Oh, the blessed old raw 
 material is still paying a penny a pound. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Leaning against the chair on the right of the 
 fireplace, dictating absently.] u The ah h'm 
 
 the manufactured article [humming] h ? m, 
 
 h'm, h'm ! " the h'm the manufactured 
 
 article pays two-pence per pound," [Humming.] 
 Tra, la, la, la ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Turning to STULKELEY.] My dear chap, for- 
 give me for directing your attention to such a 
 paltry detail, but we are not setting this to music, 
 you know. 
 
 [A whistle is heard, proceeding from the 
 cabinet. The men look at each other in- 
 quiringly. The whistle is repeated. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Hastening to the door of the cabinet.] Yes? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [From within.] Mr. Stulkeley 
 
i&j PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 I am here. 
 
 JOSEPH A. 
 
 [Opening the door a few inches and handing out 
 her dress.] Please hang my frock on the fender. 
 [He takes the dress from her.] Oh, tliank you. 
 
 [She closes the door and STULKELEY goes to 
 the fireplace and arranges the dress ten- 
 derly but clumsily upon the fender-stool. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Poor girl ! P-o-o-r girl ! Saturated ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Writhing with jealousy.] You are bungling 
 that fearfully, my dear Eeggie. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 It will persist in falling into the hearth. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Jumping up.] Spread it out, man. [Grabbing 
 at the dress.] Can't you spread it out ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Resigning the dress to WOODHOUSE, mildly.] 
 My dear Talbot - ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Rearranging the dress.] If I couldn't maid a 
 lady better than you're doing it, I'd poison myself. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [ Thinking.] Talbot 
 
PRESERVING MR. PAN MURE 183 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 It's steaming ! .It's steaming beautifully ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Moving to the left.] Talbot, I'll send a telegram 
 in the morning to my sister. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 What about? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 About Miss Quarendon. A long and explicit 
 telegram ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Yes, she might find Miss Quarendon another 
 billet. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Another billet? Oh, there's no hurry for that. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Turning to STULKELEY, suspiciously.] No 
 hurry ? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Walking up and down.] A gently-nurtured girl 
 in a position little higher than a menial's! Ter- 
 rible ! Too terrible ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Then what ? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 I'll ask Joan to invite her to Eaton Square for a 
 month or two. 
 
184 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Between his teeth.} To your house ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Testily.] My dear fellow, to whose house, if 
 not mine, could my sister invite her ? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Under his breath, glaring at STULKELEY 
 fiercely.] Oho-o-o! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Perhaps Miss Quarendon can delay her departure 
 to-morrow till it's fixed up. 
 
 [There is a cry from JOSEPHA. The men 
 look at each other in alarm. 
 
 WOODHOUSE and STULKELEY. 
 Eh? 
 
 JOSEPHA'S VOICE. 
 Mr. Stulkeley ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Bounding to the door of the cabinet.] What's 
 the matter? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [From within.] The matter ! I've heard nearly 
 every word you've been saying! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Indeed ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Your sister ! Eaton Square ! You're not seri- 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 185 
 
 ous! Do you really think she'll have me? Oh, 
 you're the kindest man on earth ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Rather uneasily.] Er not at all. 
 
 JOSEPH A. 
 M-r. Stulkeiey ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Yes? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Bar politeness, you and Mr. Woodhouse are very 
 busy, aren't you ? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 V-very. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Because, if you wouldn't take any notice of me, I 
 could dry my hair by the fire. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 I assure you 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Oh, thank you. [Joyously.] Ha, ha, ha! Go 
 away; I shall be ready to come out directly. 
 
 [STULKELEY leaves the door and encounters 
 WOODHOUSE. They whisper. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Hoarsely.] Eeggie 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Eh? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Heard every word! 
 
i86 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Phew ! Luckily I said nothing but what's pleas- 
 ant. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Pleasant ! [Extending his anus.] Pve an antip- 
 athy to her ! J hate her ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 My dear Talbot, let this be a lesson to you. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Lesson I 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Learn to control your tongue always your worst 
 enemy ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 I was agitated excited 
 
 [ JOSEPHA breaks into song. The men listen 
 for a ivhile, insensibly swaying to the 
 melody; then STULKELEY points to the 
 writing-table. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 We must 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Furiously.] Ha! Cocoa! 
 
 JOSEPHA'S VOICE. 
 I'm coming out ! 
 
 [The men sit hurriedly, WOODHOUSE at the 
 writing-table, STULKELEY having first 
 turned the chair in a direction opposite 
 to that of the door of the cabinet in the 
 armchair by the oblong table. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 187 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [To WOODHOUSE.] Where ? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [With biting distinctness.] "The raw material 
 pays a penny per pound." 
 
 [JOSEPHA appears, carrying a towel. She is 
 wearing the smoking- jacket and a silk 
 petticoat of many flounces and, on her 
 bare feet, the wool-work slippers. She 
 closes the door of the cabinet and goes 
 quietly to the fireplace. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Dictating.] "The manufactured article pays 
 two-pence per pound." [Gently, as WOODHOUSE 
 writes.] Is that you, Miss Quarendon? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Sitting upon the fender-stool and removing her 
 combs in a whisper.] Yes. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 I had no idea that that door is so thin. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 I wouldn't have it the sixtieth part of an inch 
 thicker while I can hear such good news through it. 
 [Gratefully.] My dear, dear friend ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Wriggling.] " two-pence per pound." 
 
i88 PRESERVING MR. PANMVRE 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 To think that ten minutes ago I was weary of life ! 
 [Laughing gaily as she shakes her hair down.] 
 Life ! Ha, ha ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [ Gnawing his pen. ] " The manufactured ar- 
 ticle ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Who, with STULKELEY, has become unconscious 
 of WOODHOUSE'S presence.] Mr. Stulkeley 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Eh? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 My dear Reggie ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [To STULKELEY.] Ah, I'm hindering you! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Not a bit. [To WOODHOUSE.] One moment, Tal- 
 bot. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [To STULKELEY, wistfully.] Mr. Stulkeley, I 
 hope I shan't reward you by bringing trouble upon 
 ydur abode as I've brought it upon this. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 I'm content to make the experiment. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Beating her hands together in ecstasy.] Oh! 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 189 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Oh ! [WooDHOUSE flings his pen at the inkstand 
 violently.] I beg your pardon. [Putting her finger 
 to her lips.] H'm ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [To WOODHOUSE.] Er where are we, my dear 
 Talbot? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Emphatically.] " The manufactured arti- 
 cle " 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Yes, yes. [His hand to his brow, trying to col led- 
 his thoughts.] " The ah the manufactured ar- 
 ticle " ? It pays two-pence a pound, doesn't it ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Whistling to STULKELEY, softly.} Whisssht! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Half-turning to her.] Eh? 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Slipping her combs into a pocket of the smoking - 
 jacket roguishly.] Don't be wild if you find the 
 pockets of your jacket full of combs when you next 
 wear it. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 My jacket? That isn't my jacket. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Not? W-w-whose ? 
 
igo PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 I presume it's Mr. Panmure's. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Starting up with a cry of horror.} Oh! 
 
 STULKELEY and WOODHOUSE. 
 [Turning to her.] What ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Of course it is ! I've seen the wretch in it ! Oh, 
 let me take it off! [The men rise and go to her.} 
 Lend me a coat, one of you ! Give me my shoes ! 
 [Frantically.] Oh-h-h-h! [To STULKELEY.] 
 Lend me your coat ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Miss Quarendon ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Looking at STULKELEY.] Reggie PANMURE ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Looking at WOODHOUSE.] Panmure ! \There 
 is a pause and then a knock at the door on the 
 right.] Sssh ! [The handle of the door is turned. 
 STULKELEY raises his voice.} Who is it? 
 
 PAXMURE. 
 
 [Without.] Panmure. [Silently and swiftly 
 they bundle JOSEPHA into the cabinet with her be- 
 longings and close the door upon her. Then WOOD- 
 HOUSE seats himself at the writing-table as STUL- 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 191 
 
 KELEY unlocks the door on the right and admits 
 PANMURE.] Sorry if I incommode you, gentle- 
 men. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [TTO/t elaborate courtesy. [ Come in. Mr. Wood- 
 house and I have just finished. Glad to see you. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Gathering up his papers and switching off the 
 light of the lamp on the writing-table.] Extremely 
 glad, my dear Mr. Panmure. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Moving to the middle of the room, austerely l)iil 
 with a shifting eye.] I er ahem! I've put it 
 oft' as long as I could. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Shutting the door and advancing.] Put it off? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 A most disagreeable duty, b'George ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Suavely.] Bless me ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [At the fireplace.] In fact, I can't recollect when 
 I've had a more disagreeable duty to discharge, gen- 
 tlemen. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Turning in his chair so that he faces PANMURE.] 
 Good gracious ! 
 
1Q2 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 And that's saying something, sitting as I do on 
 the bench at Polehampton a J.P., b'George ! and 
 dealing with distressing cases harrowing cases as 
 I frequently have to. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 But what ? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [To STULKELEY.] My dear Reggie! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Mr. Stulkeley Mr. Woodhouse a young lady 
 staying under my roof has been insulted. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Insulted ? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Insulted, sir kissed slobbered over; and by a 
 man who's also staying under my roof. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 When ? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 This afternoon, after tea. We've found it out by 
 chance ; she refuses to give him away. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 A young lady? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [To WOODHOUSE.] Yes, sir, and none the less a 
 lady, and deserving of proper respect, because she 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 193 
 
 has the misfortune to be employed by me as a gov- 
 erness er because she has the misfortune to be 
 
 obliged 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Miss Quarendon ? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Miss Josey ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [To WOODHOUSE, severely.] " Josey" to those 
 who have the right to call her by her kennel-name, 
 Mr. Woodhouse er by her pet-name. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Reprovingly.] Talbot! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 Now, gentlemen, we don't kiss girls in my house 
 
 without being perfectly sure beforehand [ivith a 
 
 wave of the hand] er ah what I mean is, this sort 
 o' caper won't do at The Clewers, I can tell you. 
 [Puffing himself out.] No, no; this won't do for 
 me, gentlemen. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Rising.] My dear friend, have you any no- 
 tion ? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 As to who the offender is. 
 
 PANMUEE. 
 
 He must be one of a quartette; we haven't got 
 beyond that, at present. 
 
194 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 The four being ? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [To STULKELEY.] Hebblethwaite, Hughie Lor- 
 ing, Mr. Woodhouse and yourself. [STULKELEY and 
 WOODHOUSE turn away without speaking.] Heb- 
 blethwaite and Hugie have been charged with it; 
 I've charged 'em with it. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Drawing Ms breath in forcibly through his nos- 
 trils.] Well? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Crooking his fingers.] Well? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Becoming unhinged under the strain] They 
 they they won't admit it. [Quivering.] Obsti- 
 nate brutes ! Neither of 'em'll admit it. [ Wiping 
 the perspiration from his brow and throat.] Boys 
 [coming forward] boys confess! [A pause] 
 Look me in the face, boys, if you can. Oh, I'm a 
 man o' the world, and if this hadn't occurred in my 
 own house under my roof a gentleman's roof, 
 b'George ! I say, if this hadn't happened under my 
 own roof, I might have taken a more lenient view of 
 it. But you my guests, you know receiving my 
 hospitality oh, I don't want to be hard, boys, but 
 which of you's done it ? 
 
 [There is another pause, and then WOOD- 
 HOUSE and STULKELEY, as if by mutual 
 agreement, turn and approach PANMURE 
 closely. 
 
* 
 PRESERVING MR. PAN MURE 195 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Mr. Panmure 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Panmure 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 H-hey? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Tapping PANMURE'S shoulder.} You are the 
 man. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Attempting to Muster.] Wh-a-a-t! 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Laying a finger on PANMURE'S waistcoat.] You 
 have done it, Panmure. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Ho, Pm the man, am I! I Pve done it, hey! 
 [Breaking away from them.] Here ! We'll see 
 about this ! Late as it is, you shall be driven to the 
 Crown at Polehampton to-night, bag and baggage ! 
 [He is making for the door on the right when the 
 door of the cbainet opens and JOSEPHA appears. He 
 recoils and, with a moan, falls into the chair by the 
 oblong table.] Oh-h-h! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Closing the door of the cabinet and coming to 
 STULKELEY and WOODHOUSE, appealingly.] Mr. 
 
 Stulkeley Mr. Woodhouse 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Oh ! Oh, don't listen to her, boys ! She's been 
 concocting some story or other. We picked her out 
 
ig6 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 of the gutter, my missus and I. Untrustworthy 
 little drab ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Coming to PANMURE.] Mr. Panmure 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Sitting upright.] What's she doing in my li- 
 brary, dressed like that in my jacket and my slip- 
 pers ! Disgraceful ! In a gentleman's house. Dis- 
 graceful ! 
 
 [He is struggling to his feet when STUL- 
 KELEY pushes him back with a light 
 touch. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [To PANMURE.] Miss Quarendon was so impru- 
 dent as to venture out in the rain 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 She's a liar. And you're abetting her. You're all 
 liars. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Joining STULKELEY.] You moderate your tone, 
 Panmure. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [To STULKELEY and WOODHOUSE.] Mr. Stul- 
 keley Mr. Woodhouse everything that's taken 
 place here to-night is in confidence, remember ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Discerning a ray of hope.] Yes, in confidence 
 in confidence ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [To STULKELEY and WOODHOUSE.] You're on 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 197 
 
 your honour ! Oh, for Lottie's sake for Mrs. Pan- 
 mure's sake you won't betray him, will you? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 No, for my wife's sake, boys, let me off ! It's my 
 first offence since Lottie married me ; I swear it's my 
 first offence. I'm always merciful, myself, to a first 
 offence, when I'm on the bench. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [To STULKELEY and WOODHOUSE.] Ah, tell him 
 he's safe ! Stop him making such a sickening exhi- 
 bition of himself ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Piteously.] I'm your host, boys I've done you 
 well 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Her hands to her ears.] Stop him! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [To STULKELEY and WOODHOUSE.] You're not 
 struck dumb, are yer? You're unnerving me! 
 Don't unnerve me, boys. I've got to preach a ser- 
 mon to you in a minute or two 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Hysterically.] Ha, ha, ha! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 I have; I've got to read you a discourse. [Drag- 
 ging his manuscript from his pocket.} I sha'n't be 
 able to see a word of it, if you unnerve me. [Staring 
 
198 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 at the paper.] I I can't see a word of it ! Oh, do 
 ease my mind, boys ! Ease my mind ; there's good 
 boys! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Stamping her foot.] Stop him ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Sternly.] Mr. Panmure 
 
 PANMURE. 
 Hey? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 There is no need for Miss Quarendon to remind 
 
 us 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 None whatever. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 In confidence ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [After a glance at JOSEPHA.] I speak for Mr. 
 Woodhouse and myself complete, inviolable con- 
 fidence. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Oh ! [Pocketing his sermon and jumping 
 
 up.] Oh, boys! [Offering his hand to STUL- 
 KELEY.] Stulkeley, I I humbly apologise. (STUL- 
 KELEY turns on his heel and moves away to the right. 
 PAXMURE offers his hand to WOODHOUSE.] Wood- 
 house, a gentleman can't do more [ WOOD- 
 HOUSE stall's disdainfully to the fireplace. PAN- 
 MURE goes to JOSEPHA.] Josey Josey, you're a 
 duchess. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 199 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Shrinking from him.] Ah-h-h ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Suddenly.] Sssh ! Silence! 
 
 [Everybody stands quite still, listening to 
 sounds in the passage. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 [H'is eyes bolting.] Great Scot! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Opening the door of the cabinet.] Miss Quaren- 
 
 don ! [ JOSEPHA makes a dash for the cabinet 
 
 and enters it. STULKELEY closes the door and comes 
 to PANMURE.] Hebblethwaite ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 And Hughie ! [In a whisper, as they all watch 
 the door on the right.] They've lost their heads. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [In a whisper, joining STULKELEY.] Lost their 
 heads ? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 Oh, there's been a terrific scene. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Scene ? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [With a queer look.] Yes ; their women won't be- 
 lieve 'em. 
 
200 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 [The door on the right is thrown open and 
 HEBBLETHWAITE enters, followed by 
 LORING. HEBBLETHWAITE is in a state 
 of excitement bordering on apoplexy; 
 LORING is like a man walking in a 
 troubled sleep. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [To PANMURE, hoarsely.} Well! [PANMURE 
 goes to him.} St. John ? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Alfred 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Yes yes yes ? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [To LORING, who has partly shut the door and 
 joined HEBBLETHWAITE.] Hughie [to both] 
 boys, you must prepare yourselves. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Prepare ourselves ! 
 
 LORING. 
 
 [In a hollow voice.] Prepare ? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 I I can't do anything with 'em. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Can't do anything 
 
 LORING. 
 Can't ! 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 201 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 They deny it, both of 'em. [To STULKELEY and 
 WOODHOUSE.] Don't you, boys ? 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Loosening his collar.] Deny it! 
 
 LORING. 
 Oh-h-h-h ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Buttonholing HEBBLETHWAITE.] Alfred, try to 
 exercise more self-control, ol'man. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Try to ! 
 
 LORING. 
 [Laughing idiotically.] He, he, he, he ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [To HEBBLETHWAITE.] You'll live it down, 
 ol'man; you're young enough yet to live it down, 
 [Urgently.] Alf! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Elbowing PANMURE aside and confronting 
 WOODHOUSE and STULKELEY.] Stulkeley Wood- 
 house 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Advancing to HEBBLETHWAITE, sympathetic- 
 ally.] My dear Hebblethwaite 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Breathing heavily.] Stulkeley my old lady 
 
202 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 and I all these years she's been jealous before 
 never like this thought it had died out it's blazed 
 up again awful help me the truth you or 
 Woodhouse rather it were Woodhouse always had 
 an esteem for you Stulkeley ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Unhappily.] My dear Hebblethwaite 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Yes yes ? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 I grieve I grieve at not being able to aid you in 
 your sad predicament. ' 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Dully.] Not able ? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [With emotion.] My dear fellow ! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Woodhouse, then! Woodhouse! [STULKELEY 
 steps back to allow WOODHOUSE to reply for him- 
 self.] Woodhouse ? 
 
 [WOODHOUSE shrugs his shoulders commis- 
 eratively and shakes his head. HEB- 
 BLETHWAITE groans. 
 
 LOIUNG. 
 
 [Flapping his arms despairingly.] He, he, he, 
 he! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Slowly, turning to LORING.] Yes, you you 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 203 
 
 villain! [Furiously.] You base, unfeeling villain! 
 [Making for him.] It is you ! 
 
 STULKELEY and WOODHOUSE. 
 [Seizing HEBBLETHWAITE.] Hebblethwaite ! 
 Hebblethwaite ! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Villain! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Putting himself before LOEING.] Hi ! I can't 
 have a scrap here ! Hi ! 
 
 STULKELEY and WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Hebblethwaite ! 
 
 [From a distance comes the prolonged clang 
 of a gong. A hush falls upon them all. 
 STULKELEY and WOODHOUSE lead HEB- 
 BLETHWAITE, now unresisting, to the 
 chair by the writing-table and seat him 
 there, while LOSING drops into the chair 
 by the oblong table. As the sound of the 
 gong ceases, PANMURE mops his brow 
 again, pulls down his waistcoat, and ad- 
 justs his neck-tie. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Solemnly.] Call it a draw, boys. Collect your- 
 selves. [Smoothing his hair.] Put your hair 
 straight. [HEBBLETHWAITE meekly suffers STUL- 
 KELEY and WOODHOUSE to put him in order. LOR- 
 ING experiences some difficulty in finding his head.] 
 Good boys; good boys. [Giving a twist to his mous- 
 tache.] Bind yourselves over to keep the peace, or 
 
204 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 [taking a peep at the manuscript in his breast- 
 pocket] or you'll unnerve me. Now then ! Y're 
 ready ? 
 
 [STULKELEY and WOODHOUSE lift HEB- 
 BLETHWAITE out of his chair. PAN- 
 MURE is performing the same office for 
 LORING when LORING shakes him off 
 and advances to HEBBLETHWAITE 
 threateningly. 
 
 LORING. 
 
 How dare you ! How dare you ! How dare you ! 
 [The hubbub is renewed and again it is nec- 
 essary to separate HEBBLETHWAITE and 
 LORING. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [To LORING.] You villain! You heartless vil- 
 lain! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Hebblethwaite ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Loring ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 No scrap here ! Hi ! 
 
 LORING. 
 
 If he wasn't an elderly man ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [To HEBBLETHWAITE.] Come with me, Hebble- 
 thwaite. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Heartless villain ! 
 
 PANMURE, 
 Hi! 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 205 
 
 LORING. 
 
 How dare he ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Panmure, catch hold of Loring. 
 
 [Ultimately a procession is formed. STUL- 
 KELEY prepares to escort HKBBLE- 
 THWAITE, WOODHOUSE protecting their 
 rear. PANMURE guards LORING. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Now, then, boys, once again! I say, Stulkeley, 
 can't you tidy your man's head? Simple thing, I 
 should ha' thought. Lord, look at Hugie's collar! 
 Y're ready ? I'll switch the lights off. One two- 
 three ! Go ! 
 
 [They are moving to the door on the right 
 when the door is pushed open and MRS. 
 HEBBLETHWAITE appears. Her face is 
 blotchy from weeping and her hair is 
 disarranged. She leans against the 
 door, exhausted. DULCIE is behind 
 her, white and with a set mouth and 
 -flaming eyes. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [After a pause f convulsively.} Tell me! This 
 suspense is killing me. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 Get along, aunt. Don't stick in the doorway. 
 [As MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE advances, PAN- 
 MURE retreats to the fireplace and STUL- 
 KELEY and WOODHOUSE withdraw to 
 the left. 
 
206 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [To HEBBLETHWAITE.] Alfred Hebblethwaite ! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Crossing swiftly to LORING, leaping over the 
 train of MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE'S dress on her way.] 
 Mr. Loring! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 [Raising his hands.] Girls ! Girls ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [To HEBBLETHWAITE.] Quick! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [To LORING.] Open your mouth [observng that 
 it is already wide open] or shut it. Speak ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Don't, girls, don't; there's good girls! [MRS. 
 PANMURE has entered hurriedly.] Here's Lottums. 
 [PANMURE goes to her.] What d'ye think, Lot- 
 tums ! Stulkeley and Woodhouse deny it. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Faintly.] D-d-deny it? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Deny it ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Piously.] Dulcie aunt Corisande the gong 
 has sounded. Let there be a truce. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 207 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [At the door on the right.] Yes, yes; a truce. A 
 truce, b' George ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE and DULCIE. 
 [To STULKELEY, ivlio comes forward.] Mr. 
 
 Stulkeley ? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Standing between DULCIE and HEBBLE- 
 THWAITE.] My dear Mrs. Hebblethwaite my dear 
 Miss Anstice 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [To STULKELEY.] Is it so? 
 DULCIE. 
 [To STULKELEY.] You deny it? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Drawing himself up.] Oh, certainly. [TFi/ a 
 stately bow.] We deny it. 
 
 .[MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE sinks into the chair 
 by the oblong table as MRS. PANMURE 
 goes to STULKELEY penitently. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 My dear Mr. Stulkeley ! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Bending over MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE, thickly.] 
 Corry Corry 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Hush, uncle! 
 
208 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Laughing harshly.] Ha, ha, ha ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Hush, Dulcie ! We will resume this by-and-by. 
 
 LORING. 
 
 [TF/io has dropped into the chair by the writing- 
 table to DULCIE.] Ask my mother what sort o' 
 life I've always led. Ask her ! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [To MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE.] Corry Corry, old 
 lady 
 
 LORING. 
 
 [To DULCIE.] Ask my sister Edith 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Hush! Oh, hush! 
 
 ; HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [To MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE.] Corry, it must be 
 that young man Loring ; it must be he, 
 
 LORING. 
 [Leaping to his feet.] Ah! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 There's no one else 
 
 LORING. 
 How dare you ! 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 209 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [In distress.] Oh! Oh! Oh! 
 
 LORING. 
 
 [Trying to get at HEBBLETHWAITE.] How dare 
 you! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Shaking his fist at LORING.] You selfish, cold- 
 blooded villain ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 Hi ! No scrap in the presence of ladies ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [To HEBBLETHWAITE.] Be quiet, Hebble- 
 thwaite ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Uncle Alfred ! 
 
 LORING. 
 [In the grip of DULCIE.] How dare he ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [To LORING.] Mr. Loring! 
 DULCIE. 
 [To LORING.] Heel up! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 This won't do for me ! Hi ! 
 
 LORING. 
 
 [Shouting.] Ask my mother ask my sister 
 Bdie ! 
 
210 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Thrusting LORING lack into his chair.] Heel, 
 I say ! 
 
 [Again the clang of the gong is heard and 
 again silence falls upon the assembly. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [As the sound dies out.] The servants are wait- 
 ing. [Wringing her hands.] Oh, dear; oh, dear! 
 [Looking round beseechingly.] Come, everybody. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Opening the door on the right, softly.] Tidy 
 your heads, boys. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [To STULKELEY.] Shall we lead the way? 
 
 [MRS. PANMURE and STULKELEY are mov- 
 ing towards the door when MRS. HEB- 
 
 BLETHWAITE rises. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [To MRS. PANMURE.] No, Lottie ! 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 Auntie ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 The servants can wait; it won't hurt them. I 
 insist I insist upon Miss Quarendon being brought 
 down from her room and being made to confront my 
 husband and these gentlemen. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 No, no ; not now. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PAN MURE 211 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Anxiously.} Not now; not now. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 Not now ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Resolutely.} Now; before we go into prayers. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 I agree. Quite right, aunt ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Pll fetch her myself. [Going to the door.] If I 
 have to use main force 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Running to MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE.] Pll help 
 you. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [In the doorway.] Here ! "Who's master in this 
 house ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Move away, St. John. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 Don't be a fool, St. John. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 Lottie ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 \Going to MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE and DULCIE. 
 Dulcie aunt Corisande 
 
212 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [To STULKELEY, who is engaged in parting LOR- 
 ING and HEBBLETHWAITE, between whom a violent 
 altercation has again broken out.] Stulkeley! 
 
 [WOODHOUSE has been standing by the set- 
 tee, following events with varying sensa- 
 tions. At this juncture } with a wild look 
 but with an air of determination, he 
 pushes HEBBLETHWAITE aside, and, com- 
 ing between him and STULKELEY, ad- 
 vances to the middle of the room. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [In a strange voice.] Excuse me. [Louder.] 
 Mrs. Panmure ! [Everybody turns to him, sur- 
 prised.] The ah the time has arrived perhaps 
 when ah when it is due to all parties that 
 ah that this mystery should be cleared up. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE and DULCIE. 
 
 Perhaps ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Mr. Woodhouse? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 My dear Talbot ! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE and LORINQ. 
 
 What ? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Startled.] Hey? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Digging his nails into his palms.] I ah have 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 213 
 
 an announcement ah an interesting announce- 
 ment to make you. 
 
 [There is a low murmur of inquiry as PAN- 
 MURE, his eyes starting from his head, 
 comes through the group of women. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 [To WOODHOUSE.] What'r yer talking about ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Restraining him.] St. John dear ! 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Advancing to the further side of the oblong 
 table.] Hold your tongue, St. John. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [To PANMURE.] Shut up! 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [In agony.] What's he talking about! The 
 gong's gone twice ! I won't have the rules of my 
 house broken. [ DULCIE holds him by his coat!] 
 Stulkeley ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Breathing irregularly.] My dear Mr. and Mrs. 
 Panmure oh, my dear friends I I deplore I 
 deplore exceedingly the confusion and derange- 
 ment I have brought upon this establishment by 
 my misbehaviour towards a most admirable and 
 circumspect young lady. 
 
 MR. and MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE and LORING. 
 
 Oh-h-h-h ! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 He! 
 
214 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Mr. Woodhouse! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Steeling himself for a final effort and speaking 
 in high, clear tones.} I / am the man. 
 
 [There is a general, half-suppressed excla- 
 mation. PANMURE is thunderstruck . 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Close to WOODHOUSE.] You! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [ Giving STULKELEY a look of mingled cunning 
 and triumph.] Yes, Reggie, Pve deceived you. / 
 did it. 
 
 [STULKELEY returns the look understand- 
 ingly as MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE totters 
 across to HEBBLETHWAITE and falls 
 upon his neck. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Bursting into tears.] Alfred -! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [To MRS. PANMURE.] My dear Mrs Pan- 
 mure ! [To WOODHOUSE.] Talbot ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [At the point of collapse.] Dear chap? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Please don't address me familiarly. [Loftily.] I 
 am disgusted with you dis-gusted. [Going to 
 MRS. PANMURE.] Mrs. Panmure 
 
PRESERVING MR. PAN MURE 215 
 
 MIJS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Embracing DULCIE.] Oh, Dulcie, darling! 
 [Going to the HEBBLETHWAITES.] Auntie uncle 
 Alfred ! [Shaking hands with LORING. Mr. 
 Loring ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Recovering himself and shaking hands warmly 
 with DULCIE.] Sure all along it wasn't Hughie. 
 [Finding STULKELEY by his side.] And what the 
 devil do you mean, sir by introducing this class o' 
 person into my house a gentleman's house, 
 b'George ! What the 
 
 [STULKELEY grasps the lapel of PANMURE'S 
 coat wrathf ully as DULCIE advances to 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [To WOODHOUSE.] You you vicious, dissolute 
 little creature! [ WOODHOUSE hangs his head.] 
 
 You you deserve to be [Becoming conscious 
 
 that LORING, with outstretched arms, is beaming 
 upon her.] Well, what's the matter with you? 
 
 LORING. 
 [Fatuously.] Dulce ! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Leaving WOODHOUSE and going to LORING 
 with deep contempt.] Yes, I might have known you 
 haven't the. pluck to have done it. 
 
 LORING. 
 [Staggered.] Dulce! 
 
 [ DULCIE sweeps away to the settee, folloived 
 * by LORING, as MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
216 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 accompanied by HEBBLETHWAITE, bears 
 down upon WOODHOUSE. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Expostulating with STULKELEY, . under his 
 breath.] Don't; don't! Can't help myself! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Releasing him and pacing the room on the 
 right.] Pah! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [To WOODHOUSE.] Mr. Woodhouse 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Unsteadily.] Dear lady? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Don't " dear lady " me ! Oh, if I were a man and 
 could wield a horse-whip ! [Going to STUL- 
 KELEY.] I compliment you upon your associates, 
 Mr. Stulkeley ! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Touching WOODHOUSE on the shoulder.] I can 
 wield a horse-whip, Mr. Woodhouse, and I invite you 
 to meet me at the stables to-morrow morning. What 
 hour'll suit you? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Feebly.] Any hour mos' convenient 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Who has advanced to WOODHOUSE.] No, no, 
 Alfred; leave him to me. [To WOODHOUSE.] 
 Hound ! 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 217 
 
 HEBBLETH WAITE. 
 
 Hound! That's better! Kick him, St. John; 
 you kick him ! [ Going to STULKELEY and MRS. 
 HEBBLETHWAITE.] Ton my soul, Stulkeley ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [To WOODHOUSE.] Hound! [In a whisper.] 
 Good boy ! [ Aloud.] Hound ! 
 
 LORING. 
 
 [Advancing to WOODHOUSE, -followed by DULCIE.] 
 No pluck! No pluck, haven't I! [To WOOD- 
 HOUSE.] Woodhouse, my engagement with you in 
 London music-hall reg'lar night of it it's off. 
 D'ye hear? Off! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 [To WOODHOUSE.] Hound! 
 
 LORING. 
 
 [Glancing at DULCIE.] No pluck! [Slapping 
 WOODHOUSE on the cheek.] Heugh! [Slapping 
 him upon the other cheek.] Heugh ! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 [Seizing LORING'S arm.] Hughie ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Coming forward and placing herself between 
 LORING and WOODHOUSE^ indignantly.] Mr. Lor- 
 ing! [To PANMURE.] St. John, desist! [PAN- 
 MURE retreats to the fireplace.] Oh, I'm ashamed of 
 you all ! 
 
218 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Advancing.] Ashamed! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [Going to her.] Yes, aunt Corisande, ashamed. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Really ! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Joining MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE.] Hoity, toity! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Pointing to WOODHOUSE, who presents a most 
 abject appearance.] Don't you think he is suf- 
 ficiently punished without being reviled for his mis- 
 deeds [to LoRiNGj'and struck? 
 
 LORING. 
 
 [Sulkily.] No, I don't. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [To MRS. PANMURE.] A thorough change of 
 tune on your part, Lottie ! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Treacherous little coward ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 Coward ! To abase himself before us voluntarily 
 when he might have escaped detection ! Yes, I have 
 changed my tune, auntie, because I ask myself who, 
 after all, has displayed the greater courage -he or 
 
PRESERVING MR. PAN MURE 219 
 
 ourselves? [Gazing at WOODHOUSE with melting 
 
 eyes.] Mr. Wood) 10 use [There is a murmur of 
 
 disapproval, checked by the sound of organ-music in 
 the distance.] Hus-s-s-sh ! [Listening raptur- 
 ously.] Caroline is at the organ. [To WOOD- 
 HOUSE.] Mr. Woodhouse 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Snivelling.] Y-y-yes? 
 
 MBS. PANMURE. 
 Face me. [He obeys her.] You repent? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Nodding.] H'm. 
 
 [With an expression of beatitude, she unpins 
 the badge at her breast and attaches it to 
 WOODHOUSE'S coat. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [As she does so.] You shall see Mr. Pruyn in the 
 morning. [He squints down at the badge and his 
 jaw drops. Heaving a sigh of satisfaction, she gives 
 him her arm.] Come ; we will go together. 
 
 [STULKELEY stands at the door as they pass 
 out. He follows, erect, with MR. and 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE; and they are 
 followed by DULCIE and LORING and, 
 last, by PANMURE. When PANMURE 
 reaches the door, he halts and, turning 
 sharply, speeds back to the writing- 
 table. There, unlocking a drawer, he 
 takes out a spirit- flask, puts it to his 
 lips, and drains its contents. While he 
 
220 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 is thus fortifying himself, JOSEPHA 
 opens the door of the cabinet where 
 she has switched off the light 
 and peeps out cautiously. Then she 
 steps into the room, carrying her dress, 
 shoes, and a little white bundle. Closing 
 the door noiselessly, she stands contem- 
 plating PANMURE. lie replaces the 
 flask, locks the drawer, and, with trem- 
 bling hands, produces his manuscript; 
 upon which, uttering a low, gurgling 
 cry, she drops her dress, shoes, and 
 bundle, and, before he is aware of her 
 presence, makes a spring at him and 
 snatches the manuscript from him. He 
 attempts to regain it, but she shoves him 
 away, tears it into strips and throws 
 them on to the fire. Then she points 
 sternly to the door and, with a wail of 
 despair, and holding his head, lie totters 
 after the others. 
 
 END OF THE THIRD ACT. 
 
THE FOUETH ACT 
 
 The scene is a drawing-room, tastefully decorated 
 and furnished. In the wall at the back, on the 
 left, a door opens into the room from a landing, 
 and on the right of this door there are folding 
 doors, closed, suggesting that there is 'a room 
 beyond. The folding doors are in three leaves 
 and there is a key in the lock of the middle leaf. 
 
 The fireplace, where a fire is burning, tx in 
 the right-hand wall, and opposite the fire-place, 
 against the left-hand wall, there is a console- 
 table with a lofty mirror above it. 
 
 An arm-chair stands on either side of the 
 fireplace; facing the fireplace there is a settee; 
 at the back of the settee are a small writing- 
 table and a chair; and by -the side of the writ- 
 ing-table there is a fauteuil-stool. 
 
 On the left, standing out in the room, there 
 is another settee. On its right are a table and 
 an arm-chair, on its left two more arm-chairs. 
 A piece af statuary is in the right-hand corner 
 of the room, and other articles of furniture- 
 cabinets, " occasional " chairs, jardinieres, etc., 
 etc. occupy spaces against the walls. 
 
 It is daylight. 
 
 [Miss STULKELEY, a composed, firm-looking 
 lady of forty- five is seated at the writing- 
 table, sealing an envelope. Presently 
 
 221 
 
222 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 STULKELEY enters at the door on the 
 left. He is wearing an orchid in his coat 
 and his general appearance is almost 
 dandified, but he has a troubled air 
 nevertheless. 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 [Glancing at him over his shoulder.] Ah! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Closing the door.} Good-morning, Joan. [Ad- 
 vancing.] Busy? 
 
 Miss STULKELEY." 
 
 Answering a few invitations. [Collecting her 
 letters.] I've done. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 .[Standing at the further side of the writing -table, 
 with a show of indifference.] Where where is our 
 little friend this morning ? 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 Josepha ? She has run round to Sloane Street for 
 me, to my glove-shop. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Alone? 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 No. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Smothering an exclamation] D-a-a-a ! 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 [Raising her eyebrows.} Reginald! 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 223 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Controlling himself and speaking with icy calm- 
 ness.} You mean, Talbot is with her? 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 I was giving her my instructions when Talbot 
 came into the room and said that, as he had finished 
 with you 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Incisively.} He has not finished with me. [Go- 
 ing to the fireplace.} At any rate, I have not 
 finished with him. There is still a considerable 
 amount of work lying on my table downstairs. 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 I am merely telling you what he said. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Poking the fire.} He has been neglecting his 
 duties shamefully during the past week ever since 
 that disagreeable incident at the Panmures', in fact, 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 [Rising } her letters in her hand.} Indeed? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Dropping the poker with a clatter and turning to 
 her.] The proposal that he should escort Miss 
 Quarendon to Sloane Street didn't proceed from her, 
 I assume? 
 
224 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 [Laying her letters upon the table on the left.] 
 From him. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Precisely! [Miss STULKELEY seats herself 
 upon the settee on the left.} My dear Joan, the airs 
 of proprietorship he adopts towards this unfortunate 
 young lady are insufferable. 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 It doesn't appear to weigh on her spirits. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Nothing weighs on her spirits for any length of 
 time. [Leaving the fireplace, enthusiastically.] 
 Her spirits are proof even against what I can only 
 describe as persecution. 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 Yes, she has a buoyant disposition. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Which aggravates rather than excuses the offen- 
 siveness of Talbot's attitude. It's monstrous. 
 [Coming to her.] Because solely to gain her good 
 graces ! he puts Miss Quarendon under a trifling 
 obligation to him by taking Mr. Panmure's disgrace- 
 ful conduct upon himself, he treats her as if she were 
 his property his pet-dog. I almost expect to hear 
 him whistling for her. 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 She whistles for him occasionally. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 225 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 She whistles for everybody; a charming habit. 
 [Walking about.} Ah, if I could invent a pretext 
 for getting hold of his latch-key ! 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 His latch-key? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 The key of this house my house. We are never 
 free of him now. I wonder he troubles to keep on 
 his lodgings. 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 It would annoy our servants terribly, to have to 
 open the front-door to Talbot fifty times a <i.iy. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 That is my object. They would show him that 
 they resented it. 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 They would show us that they resented it. [In a 
 level voice.} Reginald 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Returning to her.] Eh? 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 [Looking up at him.] The truth is, you are en- 
 vious of Talbot. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Envious ? 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 Jealous. 
 
226 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 J-jealous ! 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 Mortally jealous. And shall I tell you why? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Consulting his watch, uncomfortably.] Perhaps 
 I ought not to have started this topic at a moment of 
 extreme pressure. 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 You are jealous of Talbot because you are in love 
 with the girl yourself. [He makes a movement.] 
 In love. Everything supports me. The radical 
 change in you ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Startled.] Radical? 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 I am not speaking politically. The alteration in 
 your style of dressing the flower in your button- 
 hole your demeanour in her presence! [Rising.] 
 And it is having a bad effect on you. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 In what way, pray ? 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 [Moving to the fireplace.] Your speech last night 
 at the Seventy Club tame and unconvincing. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 The newspapers report me most inadequately. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 227 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 Their circulation has to be considered. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Biting his nails.] I made a hit again with cocoa. 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 That cocoa of yours seems always to be simmering 
 on the hob. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Sitting in tlie chair by the table on the left and 
 throwing one leg over the other.] Upon my word, 
 Joan 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 [Facing him.] Reginald,, acknowledge it. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Irritably.] Acknowledge what? 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 Your love for Josepha. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [With a wave of the hand.] It is impossible for 
 anybody to be in her society 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 [Approaching him.] Let us avoid generalities. 
 [At his side.] I will be frank with you. From a 
 commonsense point of view, your marrying Mi-> 
 
228 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 Quarendon would be open to every objection. [Soft- 
 ening.] But, on the other hand, she's a sweet 
 
 thing 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Eagerly.] You like her? 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 [Forgetfully.] It is impossible for any one to be 
 in her society 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Tsch ! Generalities ! 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 Bless me, yes ! Very well, then, I I admit 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 You admit ? 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 She is one of the few among my sex for whom I 
 would willingly move my bedroom a floor higher. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Taking Tier hand.] My dear Joan ! 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 [Losing her composure.] Oh, Reginald ! 
 
 STULKELEY: 
 
 This is what I have been waiting for a revelation 
 of your feeling towards Josepha ! 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 I I confess 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 22$ 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Confess ? 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 To a dread I have had of late years a terror 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Terror? 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 That a time might come when you would place a 
 woman in authority in this house a middle-aged, 
 unpliable creature ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 I understand. But Josepha ! 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 Exactly. Listen to me. You value my advice ? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Value it ! 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 Bring matters to a head at once, and stop Talbot 
 from trampling over you. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [In a flutter.] At once; at once. [Anxiously.} 
 This paltry service he has rendered her! Who 
 knows to what extent it has captured her imagi- 
 nation, eh? 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 , There's the great danger ! 
 
230 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Depressed.] Oh, my dear Joan ! 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 [Listening.} Sssh ! [STULKELEY jumps up. 
 Miss STULKELEY touches his arm significantly and 
 drops her voice to a whisper.'] I'll take my exercise 
 alone this morning. 
 
 [She moves to the fireplace as JOSKPTIA en- 
 ters breathlessly, still dressed for wulk- 
 ing, followed by WOODHOUSE. WOOD- 
 HOUSE, who 15 wearing no overcoat, also 
 has a flower in his button-hole and is ag- 
 gressively self-satisfied and patronising 
 in his bearing. By an accident, liis keys 
 which he carries at the end of a chain, 
 are hanging at his side. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Running to Miss STULKELEY.] Sorry to have 
 been so long, dearest. It's Madame Deniseau's 
 fault; she is such a chatterbox. Go and put your 
 things on. There's a sun in the sky that belongs to 
 last summer. [To WOODHOUSE.] Isn't there? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Advancing.} Belongs to last summer! Ha, ha! 
 Capital ! Ha, ha ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [To Miss STULKELEY.] Make haste! I'll help 
 you to tie your veil. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [To Miss STULKELEY.] Yes, look sharp, Joan; 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 231 
 
 I'll trot you both into the Park. [Involuntarily, 
 STULKELEY gives a short, ironical laugh. As he 
 does so, he catches sight of WOODHOUSE^S keys and 
 his eyes gleam. WOODHOUSE turns to him.] Eh? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 N-nothing. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Turning from him.] Thought you spoke. 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 [To JOSEPH A.] Josepha, I am going out by my- 
 self this morning. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 By yourself ! 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 Yes ; Pve a particular reason for desiring you to 
 remain indoors. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Wonderingly.] Particular reason! What rea- 
 son? 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 No questions. [Patting her cloak caressingly.] I 
 sha'n't be more than an hour. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [To Miss STULKELEY.] Oh, I'll amuse her while 
 you're gone. [Miss STULKELEY and JOSEPHA move 
 to the door, the former pausing to pick up her let- 
 ters. STULKELEY has seated himself upon the settee 
 on the left and is trying to withstand the temptation 
 to abstract the latch-key from WOODHOUSE'S key- 
 
232 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 ring. WOODHOUSE, feeling a tug, turns to him 
 again.} What are you up to, my dear chap? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Offering him the bunch of keys.] Your keys are 
 dangling, Talbot. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Pocketing his keys, suspiciously.] Oh thank 
 you. [Crossing to the right.] Er Joan. 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 [Who is leaving the room with JOSEPHA.] Yes? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Importantly.] Give me a minute, will you? 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 [To JOSEPHA.] Excuse me, dear. [In a lower 
 tone.] Come down when you've taken off your hat 
 and coat. 
 
 [Wt//t a nod } JOSEPHA withdraws and Miss 
 STULKELEY closes the door. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [To STULKELEY.] Stay where you are, Reggie. 
 [STULKELEY looks up and glares.] Sit down, my, 
 dear Joan. 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 [Coldly.] You heard me say I am going out, 
 Talbot. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [His back to the fire and his coat-tails over his 
 arms.] Yes, that's why I think it an excellent op- 
 
PRESERl/ING MR. PANMURE 233 
 
 portunity to have this little jaw with you. As you 
 are going out, leaving Miss Quarendon at home 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 What has Miss Quarendon ? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Oh, please, dear lady, suffer me to approach this 
 matter in my own way. [Miss STULKELEY sits ab- 
 ruptly in the chair by the table on the left] Thank 
 you. Now, I want to do everything, you know, in 
 a correct and formal manner. Miss Quarendon has 
 no parents, or I should address myself to them. 
 A week or so ago I should have applied to Mr. and 
 Mrs. Panmure for permission 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 Permission ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 To propose marriage to Miss Quarendon. [STUL- 
 KELEY and Miss STULKELEY stiffen themselves sud- 
 denly.] To-day that is, on the face of it, unneces- 
 sary. [Opening his arms.] So what is my course 
 of procedure ? 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 Your course of ? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Why, regarding you both as being, in a sense, the 
 dear child's guardians, I come to you. You have 
 given her the protection of your friendship and the 
 shelter of your very comfortable establishment. 
 [Advancing.] And, by-the-by, while I am about it, 
 let me express my grateful appreciation of your 
 
234 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 kindness to Josepha a kindness which, naturally, 
 I feel all the more deeply 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 [Steadily.] Talbot 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Going to her.] Eh? 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 Josepha Josepha doesn't suspect ? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Suspect ? 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 That you have an affection for her ? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Shrugging his shoulders complacently.] What 
 she suspects 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 But you haven't breathed a syllable ? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 My dear Joan, I've told you, I wish to conduct 
 this affair with the utmost formality. 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 My motive for asking is that Reginald [look- 
 ing at STULKELEY] Reginald 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [In a tone of polite inquiry.] Reginald ? 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 235 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 [To WOODHOUSE.] My dear brother 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Throatily.] Yes, I I myself 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 [Pointing to STULKELEY.] He 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [With an exaggerated air of incredulousness.] 
 Oh, no, not really! [STULKELEY and Miss STULK- 
 ELEY rise simultaneously.] No, no; do let's be 
 
 serious. 
 
 i 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 [Walking away to the back.] Serious! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Crossing to the fireplace.] Serious! 
 
 WOODHOUSE, 
 
 [On the left.] Oh, my dear Reggie oh, my 
 dear Joan this is grotesque ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Grotesque ! 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 [Coming to WOODHOUSE.] So grotesque is it that 
 I have expressly arranged to leave Josepha at home 
 this morning in order that Reginald may declare 
 himself. 
 
236 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Grotesque ! 
 
 Miss STULKBLEY. 
 
 [Formidably.] Don't you use that word again. 
 Talbot ; I won't have it. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Gro [meeting her eye] gro ! Gro ridicu- 
 lous! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Joining Miss STULKELEY.] Anyhow, it is my 
 intention to speak to Miss Quarendon without delay. 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 Without delay. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Oh, but I put it to you two mature, usually sen- 
 sible people [sitting upon the settee on the left, 
 nursing his leg] I put it to you, Joan 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 [With asperity.] You needn't. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [To Miss STULKELEY.] I put it to you. Sup- 
 posing I were to efface myself, if one could suppose 
 anything so wildly improbable but supposing I 
 were to, and Josey could be induced to look fav- 
 ourably on darling old Reggie what a calamity ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Calamity ! 
 
PRESERVING MR. PAN MURE 237 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 Nothing of the sort ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 I abhor our vulgar English proverbs I really 
 do but May and December, you know ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Hotly.} I beg your pardon! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Worse ! May and December twelvemonth ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Talbot, you're rude ! 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 \To WOODHOUSE.] June and October at the out- 
 side ! Josepha is twenty-seven, Eeginald forty-two. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 And then, apart from that, Reggie and this 
 dainty little fairy! Oh, gro [meeting Miss 
 STULKELEY' s eye again] gro ! Gro absurd! 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 [Impatiently.] Well, Miss Quarendon may be 
 down at any moment 
 
238 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 True. [Looking at his watch.] You will be ab- 
 sent for about an hour, you say, Joan ? 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 Why ? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 I suggest that Reggie accompanies you or that 
 he goes for a stroll on his own account 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 [To WOODHOUSE.] Reginald? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Allowing me at least twenty minutes 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Not comprehending.] Twenty minutes? 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 [To WOODHOUSE.] What for? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 For my interview with Josepha. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Not at all ! 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 What next ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Oh, Reggie will come next. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 239 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Pacing the room at the back.] Audacious! 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 [To WOODHOUSE.] No, no; you will go for a 
 stroll, Talbot, and if, after that though it is 
 scarcely conceivable 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Halting.] Quite so; if, after I have had my in- 
 terview with Miss Quarendon, there remains the 
 faintest ray of hope for Talbot 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Rising, genuinely indignant.] My dear Reg- 
 gie ni3 r dear Joan you make me blush for you; 
 you do, positively. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Blush? 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 Blush ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Blush. [Crossing to the fireplace.] To take such 
 an unfair advantage of me; a relative, too a first 
 cousin ! It's shabby to a degree ; it is, really. 
 
 STULKELEY and Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 Unfair ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Distinctly unfair! [Facing them.] This is my 
 reward for behaving in an honourable, high-minded 
 fashion. Oh, it's lamentable ! 
 
240 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 I don't deny 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Resuming his walk.] Neither of us denies 
 
 Vv f OODHOUSE. 
 
 You can't. You are perfectly well aware that I 
 could have offered marriage to Miss Quarendon 
 without paying you the compliment of consulting 
 you. This morning, for example, in Sloane Street! 
 The east side of Sloane Street is admirably adapted 
 for that kind o' thing. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Now on the left, in front of the settee, dis- 
 turbed.] Joan 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 [Turning to him.] Eh? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [His hands in his pockets, guiltily.] Talbot's be- 
 haviour has been irreproachable, undoubtedly. 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 [Sharing STULKELEY'S uneasiness.} Oh, un- 
 doubtedty. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Rattling his money, feebly.] If some sort of 
 compromise could be arrived at 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 Compromise ? 
 
PRESERVING MR. PAN MURE 241 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Unconsciously producing a piece of money and 
 gently tossing it over in his paim.] Very little is 
 accomplished in these days without compromise. 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 [Grasping his arm and pointing to the coin.] 
 Oh, but you wouldn't ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Hastily poclceting the coin.] No, no; not with a 
 coin. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Raising his hand.] Oh, pot-house! Pot-house) 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Would it be equally objectionable if ah it 
 Talbot and I were to draw lots ? 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 Lots? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 To decide who shall be the first to er 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 [Turning to WOODHOUSE.] Talbot ? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Lots ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Thoughtfully.] Two pieces of paper dropped in- 
 to a vase a number written upon each of them 
 
242 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Walking away to the back in disgust.] Good 
 heavens, a sweepstake ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [To WOODHOUSE, violently.] Confound it, man, 
 is there no satisfying you ! 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 [Warmly.] A most generous concession! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Striding to the fireplace and taking up a position 
 there firmly.} Very well, then! I adhere to my 
 and my sister's original plan. 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 [Sitting upon the settee on the left.} We adhere 
 to our original plan. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [To WOODHOUSE.] Which leaves me no alterna- 
 tive, my dear fellow, but to request you to with- 
 draw. 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 [Folding her arms.} To request you to with- 
 draw, Talbot. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Ha ! [At the door.} I repeat, I blush for you. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [With a stately bow.] I am greatly obliged. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 243 
 
 Miss STDLKELEY. 
 [Bridling.] We are greatly obliged. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Opening the door.] Blush for you. 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 So that you blush in the street, Talbot 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Wrathfulhj.] Ah ! 
 
 [He goes out slamming the door. STULK- 
 ELEY advances to Miss STULKELEY and 
 she, with a sigh of relief, rises and em- 
 ir aces him. 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 [Kissing him on both cheeks.] Reginald my 
 
 dear brother ! 
 
 [WOODHOUSE returns. Miss STULKELEY and 
 STULKELEY separating hastily, regard 
 him with surprise and displeasure. 
 WOODHOUSE closes the door and comes 
 forward. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [To WOODHOUSE. W w what ? 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 [To WOODHOUSE.] Talbot? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Calmly.] I consent. 
 
244 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Consent ! 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 You consent ? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 A vase two pieces of paper 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Disappointed.} By all means. 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 [Frigidly.] Certainly. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 On one condition. 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 Condition ? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 I am not sure that Talbot is entitled to dic- 
 tate 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 [To STULKELEY.] Wait. [To WOODHOUSE. 
 
 May we hear ? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Whichever of us first proposes to Miss Quarendon 
 shall inform her that the other intends to do the 
 same thing immediately afterwards. 
 
 Mi^s STULKELEY. 
 
 [Knitting her brows.] Whichever of you 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Also frowning.] First proposes 
 
PRESERVING MR. PAN MURE 245 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 Shall inform Josepha 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 That the other- 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 Immediately afterwards 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [After a short pause.} Joan ! 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 [Tapping her forehead with her fingers.} Let me 
 think. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Testily.} Oh, my dear lady, can't you see that 
 my proviso is as much in Reggie's interests as my 
 own? 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 [Shutting her eyes.} Yes, I do see 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [His hand to his head.} Now, how would it 
 operate ? 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 At the first glance it's rather complex, but 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Again appealing to Miss STULKELEY.] Eh h? 
 
246 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 [Nodding slowly.] Yes yes, we we agree. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Still extremely doubtful] We agree unhesitat- 
 ingly. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Looking round about him.] A vase ? [He 
 
 fetches a vase which is standing upon a cabinet at the 
 back. Absently, STULKELEY takes another vase from 
 the mantel-piece, while Miss STULKELEY removes yet 
 another from the console-table, and the three ad- 
 vance and meet in the middle of the room.] Oh, my 
 dear friends, we are not a troupe of conjurers ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Replacing his vase upon the mantelpiece, net- 
 tled.] There is no harm done, my dear Talbot. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Putting back his vase, tartly.] l$ot the slightest. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [To Miss STUKELEY.] Joan, two slips of paper. 
 [Miss STUKELEY deposits her vase upon the writing- 
 table f and, seating herself at the table, tears two 
 slips from a sheet of paper and prepares to write.} 
 The figure "I" upon that; [Miss STULKELEY 
 writes, first upon one piece of paper, then upon the 
 other-, according to his directions.] upon that the 
 figure " II." 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 247 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [At the further side of the writing-table.] The 
 one who draws Number One ? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Bowing in assent.] Yes. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [To Miss STULKELEY.] Fold them. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [As she does so.] Of course, fold them. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Drop them into the vase. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Resenting WOODHOUSE' s tone of authority.] Ob- 
 viously. 
 
 [Miss STULKELEY drops tlie pieces of paper 
 into tlie vase and rises. Carrying the 
 vase, she moves to the middle of the 
 room. The men follow her. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [To Miss STULKELEY.] Shake it up. [She gives 
 the vase a shake and, blinded and choked with dust, 
 coughs painfully and blinks.] Pardon. 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 [Giving the vase to WOODHOUSE and wiping her 
 eyes.] Our neglectful housemaids ! 
 
248 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [To STULKELEY.] Which of us ? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Relieving WOODHOUSE of the vase, magnani- 
 mously.] You. 
 
 [WOODHOUSE plunges his hand into the vase, 
 which is narrow-necked one, and is 
 unable to withdraw it. 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 [At his side.] Oh, dear ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Solicitously, tugging at the vase.] Oh, dear; oh, 
 dear! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Wincing.] Tsssh! 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 [Pulling at WOODHOUSE'S arm.] How unfortu- 
 nate! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Lowering at STULKELEY.] Did you guess this 
 would happen, Reggie ? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 On my honour, Talbot ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 The vase will have to be broken. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 249 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 Break my vase ! No ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 My dear Joan, you don't think I am going through 
 life with this attached to me, do you ? [ Ultimately , 
 with a jerk, he extricates his hand, his elbow hitting 
 Miss STULKELEY, who has turned away distractedly, 
 between the shoulders.] Pardon. [Gripping his 
 hand and then examining it with concern.] Tssh ! 
 [Miss STULKELEY, thoroughly upset, retires to the 
 back as WOODHOUSE discovers that he has possessed 
 himself of one of the pieces of paper.] Tsssh ! 
 Tscha! [Unfolding the paper.] Dash, and I've 
 drawn the wrong number! [Crumpling the paper 
 and flinging it away.] Tscha! [Making for the 
 door.] Drawn the filthy wrong number and grazed 
 my knuckles badly ! [As he reaches the door, it is 
 opened and JOSEPHA enters.] Pardon. 
 
 [He departs, closing the door, and JOSEPHA 
 goes to Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Wlio has taken off her outdoor things.] You 
 haven't started yet, dearest ! 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 [Passing JOSEPHA.] I'm only just at liberty. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Following her.] Mayn't I help you with your 
 hat? 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 No, no; Gillmore will attend to me. [Turning to 
 JOSEPHA.] Stay here. 
 
250 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Looking inta Miss STULKELEY'S face.] Why, is 
 anything the matter? 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 [Glancing at STULKELEY, who has moved across to 
 the left.] I I fancy my brother Eeginald has 
 something to say to you. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Alarmed.] Oh! What have I done? 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 Shall I tell you? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Y-yes. 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 Made the house bright and cheerful for a week. 
 [Miss STULKELEY kisses JOSEPHA fondly, 
 picks up her letters again, and goes out. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Looking from STULKELEY to the closed door and 
 from the door to STULKELEY, puzzled.] I I'm 
 afraid I must have been up to some naughty trick 
 or other. [Advancing a step or two.] Have I? 
 
 [He turns to her, unconscious of the fact 
 that lie is still holding the vase. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Nervously.] Er Miss Quarendon 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 251 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 E-eh? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Hugging the vase to his breast.] My sister is 
 ah correct in her surmise that I er 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Eyeing the vase.] What are you doing with 
 that? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 With what? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Pointing.] That thing. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Good gracious! Thank you. [He is about to 
 stand the vase upon the table on the left when he 
 reflects, changes his mind, and turns to her again. 
 She edges away from him, open-mouthed.} No; 
 this will assist me to ah to explain. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Growing more and more -frightened by his man- 
 ner.] T-t-to explain? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Coming to her and presenting the mouth of the 
 vase to her.] Dip your hand into it. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Dip my hand into it ! 
 
252 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Gazing at her earnestly.] Yours is a small 
 hand a delicately shaped hand. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Putting her hands behind her.] Oh, I I don't 
 know. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 There is no danger of your having to go through 
 life with this attached to you. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Her fright increasing.} Oh, M-M-Mr. Stulke- 
 ley ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Dip your hand into it. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Aren't you well? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Quite. [Shaking the vase invitingly.] Come. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 W-w-what for? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 You will find a slip of paper at the bottom. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 S-s-slip of paper ? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Insignificant in itself, but big with fate. [Fear- 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 253 
 
 fully, she inserts her hand in the vase and draws out 
 a piece of paper.] Unfold it. [She obeys, with 
 trembling fingers.] What is the figure written on 
 it? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Correcting him.] Figures. [Reading.] "Three 
 pounds, eight, and four-pence." 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [His eyes bolting.] Three pounds 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 It's a bill. [Showing it to him.] " Marshall and 
 Snelgrove." 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Bless me! . How has that got there? That's not 
 the paper I mean. [She lays the bill on the writing- 
 table and, again diving her hand into the vase, fishes 
 up another piece of paper.] That must be it. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Unfolding it.] "I." [Looking at him.] One? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Intensely.] Miss Quarendon Josepha that 
 apparently unimportant document gives me the 
 right of taking precedence over my cousin Talbot in 
 telling you that it is in your power to make me 
 [confused] or him to make either of us the hap- 
 piest of men. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Staring at him.] Mr. Stulkeley! 
 
254 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Yes, Woodhouse and I I can't justify the pro- 
 ceeding, but it was forced upon me Woodhouse 
 and I have been drawing lots to decide who should 
 be the first to lay his heart at your feet. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Faintly.] Oh ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 He, as I have hinted, has drawn the wrong num- 
 ber; and therefore excuse me 
 
 [He breaks off } to get rid of the vase, which 
 he replaces upon the console-table, while 
 she, with a woeful face, sits upon the 
 fauteuil-stool. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Oh! Oh! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Returning to the middle of the room.] Josepha, 
 I love you. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Dropping her head upon her hands.] Oh-h-h-h ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Coming to her and standing beside her.] I love 
 you utterly, entirely, with every faculty of my being. 
 Perhaps, under an existing arrangement, I ought to 
 add for I wish to be strictly impartial perhaps I 
 ought to add that it is possible that my cousin loves 
 you in very much the same proportion. But, as he 
 will propose to you in person shortly after I have 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 255 
 
 finished, I beg you to bestow your whole attention, 
 for the moment, upon myself. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Rocking herself to and fro, in a murmur.] Oh, 
 my; oh, my! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Josepha, it is a common failing with a man who is 
 in love to invest the object of his devotion with every 
 noble and gracious quality ; and terrible in too many 
 instances is the disenchantment that awaits him. 
 In the present case, however, I believe that in ascrib- 
 ing to you the enjoyment of mental attributes of a 
 superior order, and an equability of temper which is 
 as rare as it is engaging 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Looking up at him piteously.] Are you speak- 
 ing now for Mr. Woodhouse or for yourself ? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [With someYieat.] No, no; I've told you, I've 
 done with Woodhouse. You can't have been follow- 
 ing me. [Off the line.] Er you've thrown me out 
 an equability of temper [recovering himself] 
 which is as rare as it is engaging 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Bursting into tears.] Oh! Ho, ho, ho, no! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Josepha ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Oh, how unlucky I am ! 
 
256 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Unlucky ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Oh, I thought I was in harbour again, and now 
 this has cropped up ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Agitatedly.] This has cropped up! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Rising and walking away to the left.] Ah, only 
 last night, before I got into bed, I went down on 
 my hands and knees and put my lips to the carpet ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 To the carpet ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 The carpet of my beautiful, snug, cosy room. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 In heaven's name, why the carpet ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Out of gratitude for finding myself in your care, 
 and your sister's! [Sinking into a chair.] And 
 now I'm adrift once more. Oh ! Oh ! Oh ! How 
 unlucky I am ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Distressed.] Josepha 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Oh, don't ! 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 257 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Even if I am unacceptable to you, you can con- 
 tinue to kiss your present carpet until some more 
 fortunate individual Woodhouse or another 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Sitting upright, sobbing.] How c-c-can I? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 It seems to me to be sheer waste; but what's to 
 prevent your doing so ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 S-s-suppose s-s-suppose Miss Stulkeley came to 
 know that you that you ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Came to know ! She does know. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Does she! [Opening her eyes widely.] And 
 about little Mr. Woodhouse also? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Tsch! [Sourly.] And about him also. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 And about the drawing lots? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 She assisted at it. 
 
258 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Rising, her face clearing.] Oh, and that's why 
 she's gone out alone this morning ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Coming to her.] Certainly. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Looking at the piece of paper which is still in 
 her hand falteringly.] And was she pleased or 
 angry when you drew this ? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Pleased. [Hopefully.] I've never seen a woman 
 exhibit so much satisfaction. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Shrewdly.] Oh, but you didn't draw it. I did. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 As my cousin had drawn the losing number, 
 there was no necessity 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Nodding.] Ah, no; of course. [With a light, 
 tender laugh.] Ho, ho ! Poor little man ! [Eyeing 
 STULKELEY askance.] But his turn'll come won't 
 it? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Chilled.] By-and-by. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Meditatively.] Ah, he's been such a brick to me. 
 
PRESERVING MR, PANMURE 259 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Breathing hard.] A-a-a brick? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 A trump ! That was fine of him his sacrificing 
 himself for me at The Clewers wasn't it? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Wretchedly.] Er extremely. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Softly, drying her eyes.] Was he very crushed 
 just now, when he fished out the wrong number? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Crushed! Literally! [With malice.] A most 
 ludicrous business his hand got stuck in the vase. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Got stuck in the vase ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Stuck fast. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Unable to restrain her merriment.] No! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 We had the greatest difficulty Joan and I 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Ho, ho, ho ! How did you ? Ha, ha, ha, ha ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 I tugged at the vase, Joan pulled at his elbow 
 
260 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [In a fit of laughter.] Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho ! 
 
 v STULKELEY. 
 
 [Enjoying his success.] Ha, ha, ha, ha! [Tak- 
 ing her hand and stroking it.] That's why I re- 
 marked that your perfect little hand 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Ho, ho ! I wondered ! Ha, ha, ha, ha ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Ha, ha, ha ! [Suddenly.] Sssh ! 
 
 [She sobers herself instantly as STUKELEY 
 slowly turns his head in the direction of 
 the folding-doors. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [In a whisper.] What ? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [To JOSEPHA, dropping his voice.] Did you hear 
 anything ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Shaking her head.] No. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [ Gravely. ] Josepha 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Eh? 
 
> 
 
 4 
 
 PRESERVING MR. PAN MURE 261 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Surely my cousin Talbot has not been so despic- 
 ably mean ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Mean ? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 As to creep into that room ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Shocked.] Oh, no! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 And put his ear to the keyhole ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Suppressing a whistle.] Whew-w-w ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 The understanding was that he, too, was to take 
 the air. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Sharply.] Go on talking. [In a high voice, 
 moving to the writing-table.] What brilliant 
 weather we're having, aren't we? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Watching her in astonishment.] Delightful. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Taking a long quill-pen from the inkstand.] We 
 generally get a blue sky and plenty of sunshine after 
 snow, don't we? 
 
262 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 It's not ah unusual. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Edging towards the folding -doors, humming dis- 
 cordantly.} Tra, la, la, la ! [Giving STULKE- 
 LEY a mischievous look.] Tra, la ! [Introduc- 
 ing the end of the pen into the keyhole.] Tra, la, 
 
 la ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Josey ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Ha, ha! [Thrusting the pen through the key- 
 hole.] Ha, ha, ha ! [There is a sound from 
 
 the adjoining room as of the overturning of a chair.] 
 Oh! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Going to her.] What have you done? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Horrified.] Oh, why didn't you stop me! 
 
 [She is about to unlock the centre leaf of the 
 folding-doors when GRANT, a man- 
 servant, enters, carrying a salver upon 
 which is a heap of visiting cards. 
 JOSEPHA retreats to the fireplace a$ 
 STULKELEY examines the cards. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Talcing up the cards indiscriminately, one by 
 one.] Mrs. Panmure Miss Anstice Mr. Hebble- 
 thwaite Mr. Panmure Mr. Hugh. Loring Mrs. 
 Hebblethwaite Mr. Panmure Mr. Hebblethwaite 
 Mrs. Panmure Mr. Hugh Loring Mrs. Hebble- 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 263 
 
 thwaite Miss Anstice [To GRANT, be- 
 wildered.] They're not ? 
 
 GRANT. 
 Yessir; downstairs, sir. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 All ? 
 
 GRANT. 
 
 Several, sir. I said Miss Stulkeley's out walk- 
 ing, sir ; but they'd like to see you and Miss Quaren- 
 don, and Mr. Woodhouse. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [After a glance at JOSEPHA.] Oh show them 
 
 up. Grant 
 
 GRANT. 
 [At the door.] Yessir? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Has Mr. Woodhouse gone out again? 
 
 GRANT. 
 B'lieve not, sir. His hat's in the hall. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Grimly.] Find him. 
 
 GRANT. 
 
 Yessir. 
 
 [GRANT withdraws, with the salver and cards, 
 as JOSEPHA throws the pen into the fire 
 and comes to STULKELEY. 
 
264 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 What an odd call ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Call ! It's a Conference ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Clinging to STULKELEY' s arm.] They haven't 
 come to ask me to go back to The Clewers, have 
 they? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Soothingly.] No, no. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 I adore Lottie; [shuddering] but Mr. Pan- 
 mure ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Hurriedly.] Josey before these people appear 
 if you could give me a word of encourage- 
 ment ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Encouragement ? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Tell me that I may hope 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Hope! [Repulsing him.] When perhaps you've 
 made me hurt that little hero ! 
 
 [The door re-opens and GRANT ushers in 
 MRS. PANMURE, MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE, 
 HEBBLETHWAITE, PANMURE, DULCIE, 
 and LORING. MRS. PANMURE'S expres- 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 265 
 
 sion is very glum, but PANMURE has a 
 smug, sanctified air. The others seem 
 to be on excellent terms with themselves, 
 the HEBBLETHWAITES looking particu- 
 larly contented and jolly. GRANT re- 
 tires, closing the door. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Shaking hands with MRS. PANMURE. 1 My 
 sister will be very sorry. [Shaking hands with MRS. 
 HEBBLETHWAITE.] How do you do? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Going to JOSEPHA, coldly.] How are you, 
 Josepha ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Kissing MRS. PANMURE, shyly.] How are you, 
 Lottie? [MRS. PANMURE accepts JOSEPHA' s *kiss 
 unresponsively and moves to the fireplace as 
 JOSEPHA shakes hands with MRS. HEBBLE- 
 THWAITE.] How do you do, Mrs. Hebblethwaite ? 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Loftily, turning away to the settee on the left.] 
 Thank you ; I am in perfect health. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [After greeting STULKELEY.] Coming down on 
 you like an avalanche, hey? [Seeing JOSEPHA.] 
 
 Ah, and here's little Miss Jo ! 
 
 [lie is about to shake hands with her when 
 he thinks better of it and, nodding to 
 JOSEPHA, joins MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
266 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 PANMURE, who has been received in a 
 distant manner by STULKELEY, ap- 
 proaches JOSEPHA while STULKELEY is 
 shaking hands with DULCIE and LOR- 
 ING. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 {To JOSEPHA, in an oily tone.] I trust you are 
 1, Miss Quareridon [she gives him a limp hand] 
 and happy oh, happy in your new, temporary 
 home. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Exceedingly. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 We are all much happier than when we saw you 
 last. 
 
 [He moves away as DULCIE advances to 
 JOSEPHA and proffers a finger. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 [To JOSEPHA.] How d'ye do? 
 
 LORING. 
 
 [On the left, nodding to JOSEPHA.] HowVyer, 
 Miss Quareiidon? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [To everybody.] Pray sit down; pray sit down. 
 [MR. and MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE seat themselves 
 upon the settee on the left, DULCIE and LORING in 
 the chairs at the end of the settee, PANMURE in the 
 chair by the table on the left, and JOSEPHA upon the 
 fauteuil-stool.] Er my sister will be sorry. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 267 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Who has been gazing into the fire, to STULKE- 
 LEY.] Oh, this is not an ordinary visit of friend- 
 ship, Mr. Stulkeley. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Puzzled.] Xo? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 As you may gather from the hour at which it is 
 paid. And as Miss Stulkeley is not so intimately 
 connected with a certain event as the rest of us, it 
 is better, in my opinion, that she should be out of 
 the way. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Apprehensively.] Dear me ! 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Inquiringly.] Is Mr. Woodhouse ? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 I've sent for him. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 We won't lose time. [To PANMURE.] Are you 
 ready, St. John? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Sanctimoniously.] Oh, more than ready; more 
 than ready. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [To STULKELEY.] My husband is here, Mr. Stul- 
 keley, at the suggestion at the command of Mr. 
 
268 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 Pruyn, the rector of Polehampton, to perform an 
 act of expiation. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Expiation ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 Of self-abasement. [Sitting upon the settee be- 
 fore the fire.] Uncle Alfred ? 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Clearing his throat.] Ahem! [To STULKE- 
 LEY.] The fact is, Stulkeley, that our friend Pan- 
 mure my nephew-in-law [chuckling] ha, ha! 
 has been found out. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 No, no; not found out. [Casting his eyes up to 
 the ceiling.] He has confessed. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Well, he confessed after he was found out. Ha, 
 ha! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [Shivering.] Oh, please don't laugh, uncle. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [To MRS. PANMURE.] Your uncle is a fluent 
 speaker, Lottie, if he is allowed his own methods. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Sitting in the chair at the writing-table.] Con- 
 fessed ! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 To being the chap who kissed Miss Quarendon. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 269 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Emphatically.] Who kissed Miss Quarendon. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Kissed Miss Quarendon. 
 
 LORING. 
 Kissed Miss Quarendon. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Involuntarily giving a shrill, prolonged whistle.] 
 Whew-w-w-w ! 
 
 [The men are startled, the women look at 
 JOSEPHA indignantly. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Josepha ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Clapping her hand to her mouth.] Oh, my ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Her head bowed.] Yes, it was my husband who 
 kissed Josepha. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Chuckling again.] Ha, ha ! Kissed little Jo ! 
 [Finding his wife's eye upon him.] Kissed Miss 
 Quarendon. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Yielded to temptation. [Looking around.] Oh, 
 beware of temptation, boys. Stulkeley Hughie 
 [pointedly] Alfred 
 
270 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Bristling.] You needn't lay such stress on 
 Alfred, St. John. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Nudging MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE affectionately.] 
 Ha, old lady ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Slipping her arm through HEBBLETHWAITE'S.] 
 Alfred has never given me a moment's anxiety ; and 
 never will. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Patting MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE'S hand and then 
 rising and going to STULKELEY.] You see, what's 
 occurred is this. Kitts, the footman 
 
 LORING. 
 
 [Who has been preparing himself for an oratorical 
 effort.] Er ah before Hebblethwaite goes any 
 further I er 
 
 DULCIE. 
 [To LORING, fondly.] What is it, old thing? 
 
 LORING. 
 
 Before Heblethwaite goes any further, I want it 
 to be clearly understood that, though I've consented 
 to be present at this act of what-d'ye-call-it, him 
 and me are not on friendly terms. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 [To LORIXG.] Him and me! 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 271 
 
 LORING. 
 
 Er I and him. 
 
 DULCIE. 
 [Prompting LORING.] Hebblethwaite and I 
 
 LORING. 
 Are not on friendly terms. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Pacifically.] Oh, come, Loring! Come, come, 
 come, come ! 
 
 LORING. 
 
 [To HEBBLETHWAITE, wagging his head.] No, 
 no; not after the way you tried to land me in the 
 ditch over Miss Quarendon. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [To LORING.] Oh, Mr. Loring ! 
 
 LORING. 
 
 [Obstinately.] No, no; it ain't no good, Mrs. 
 Heb. As 'the sayin' goes, the relations between me 
 and Hebblethwaite are sprained; and I'm not the 
 sort 
 
 DULCIE. 
 [To LORING.] Strained. 
 
 LORING. 
 [To DULCIE.] Hey? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 Strained. 
 
272 PRESERVING MR. PAN MURE 
 
 LORING. 
 
 What'dlsay? 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 You said your relations are sprained. 
 
 LORING. 
 Oh? Ain't much difference, is there? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Go on, uncle. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Shrugging his shoulders good-humour edly.] 
 Well, this is what's occurred, Stulkeley. Kitts, the 
 footman, was passing the hall door on that mem- 
 orable Wednesday afternoon, and he heard the 
 smashing of china. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 It was a plate she shied at me, Stulkeley. Miss 
 Quarendon aimed a plate at me; [to JOSEPHA] 
 didn't you ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Under her breath.] Oh! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Continuing.] The smashing of China and voices 
 raised above concert-pitch; and the lad took it into 
 his head to hang about. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 I don't blame Miss Quarendon not for that; I 
 deserved it. It's a pity it struck the floor instead of 
 hitting me. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 273 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 And presently he saw Miss Quarendon coming up- 
 stairs with a scared face ; and when he went into the 
 hall, there was Panmure picking up the bits and 
 shaking all over. And then Kitts told the story to 
 Mrs. Meadows, the housekeeper; and she goes to 
 Lottie [addressing STULKELEY] to Mrs. Panmure 
 with the broken crockery; and Lottie begins to 
 put two and two together; and gradually the idea 
 dawns on her ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 And then we had a chat, Lottie and I ; and I con- 
 fessed owned up like a man. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 H'm! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE and DULCIE. 
 H'm! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Oh, the two or three days after that were dreadful. 
 And they'd have gone on being dreadful if I hadn't 
 called in Pruyn. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 Ha, ha ! First-rate fellow Pruyn ! 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Oh, he's a champion. Alfred boys he's re- 
 formed me completely. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Grinning.] Why, I thought that Lottie ! 
 
274 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Lottie began it, but Pruyn's put on the thing- 
 amy the the the coping-stone. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Ha, ha, ha! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 No more selfish indulgences, with the poor sitting 
 at my gates ! No more 1 foul and expensive cigars ! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Knocked you off your smoking ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Oh, boys, the pleasure of being knocked off your 
 smoking! [Ecstatically.] No more alcoholic 
 liquids ! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Good lord ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Oh, Alfred, the clearness of the brain of a total 
 abstainer ! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [With a wry face.] I dare say. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Humbly.] All the same, though, he's stopped 
 my preaching for the future, Pruyn has. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 No more sermonettes ! 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 275 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 No. [To JOSEPHA, reproachfully.] I gave him a 
 full account of our discourse on St. Polycarp, Miss 
 Quarendon. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE and DULCIE. 
 
 [Looking severely at JOSEPHA.] Ah ! 
 
 / 
 PANMURE. 
 
 And the awful catastrophe it ended in. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Ha, ha, ha ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Lottie's thinking of making a clean sweep of the 
 servants at the Clewers and getting in ,a fresh batch ; 
 [to MRS. PANMURE] aren't you, Lottie? [Dropping 
 into his earlier manner.] Beasts ! The old ones 
 seemed determined not to forget that night. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Laughing with HEBBLETHWAITE.] Ha, ha ! 
 You can hardly expect them to, St. John. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Whimpering. [ I read the lessons to 'em now 
 common beasts ! and still I catch 'em tittering. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Wiping his eyes.] I shall never forget it, / 
 promise you. 
 
276 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Nor I. Oh, the scene ! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Ho, ho, ho, ho ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Rolling from side to side.] Ho, ho, ho ! 
 
 LORING. 
 He, he, he ! 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Throwing her head lade.} Ha, ha, ha ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Thoughtlessly.] Ha, ha, ha! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Suddenly, in a loud outburst.] Ha, ha, ha, ha! 
 [While the mirth is at its height, MRS. PAN- 
 MURE starts up and confronts them. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Be silent ! Ah, how can you ! 
 
 [The laughter is at once checked and JO- 
 SEPHA rises and goes to MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Penitently.] Lottie, dear, forgive me for laugh- 
 ing. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 277 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Turning from JOSEPHA and advancing to HEB- 
 BLETHWAITE fiercely.] Uncle ! [HEBBLE- 
 THWAITE retires to the back of the settee on the 
 left.] St. John [PANMURE and STULKELEY rise.] 
 we will catch the twelve-fifty from St. Pancras. 
 [To STULKELEY.] Evidently Mr. Woodhouse is 
 anxious to avoid meeting the woman he so wickedly 
 misled. But my husband has obeyed the spirit of 
 Mr. Pruyn's direction that he should humble him- 
 self by making an admission of his depravity to a 
 gathering of those principally concerned, and there 
 is nothing left for us to do but to apologise for in- 
 flicting ourselves upon you. [Offering her hand to 
 STULKELEY as the others rise icily.] Good-bye. 
 PANMURE. 
 
 Oh, but [touching MRS. PANMURE'S shoulder] 
 
 Lottums 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. ' 
 
 [Turning to him.] Yes? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 I should like Stulkeley just to see 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 What? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Tapping his breast proudly.] This, Lottums. 
 Alfred and Corry haven't seen it either ; nor Hughie. 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Compressing her lips.] If you think it worth 
 while 
 
278 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Beaming.] Corry boys look! [He unbut- 
 tons his overcoat and, throwing it open with a flour- 
 ish, displays the badge of the Guild of Fine Souls at- 
 tached to the lapel of his undercoat.] Pruyn last 
 night a mark of appreciation, b' George ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 The badge ! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 [Coming forward. ] Badge ! 
 
 PANMURE. 
 Guild of Fine Souls. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 How very nice ! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Bravo ! 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Examining the badge.] Oh, but the brooch Lot- 
 tie wore was gilt. 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 What's that made of? 
 
 PANMURE. 
 [Sheepishly.] Bronze, All 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 Imitation bronze copper. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 279 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Copper ! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 Why copper? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [To PANMURE, Utterly.] Tell them. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Buttoning his overcoat, meekly.] It's a badge of 
 the Third Class, boys. 
 
 [There is a general stir. MRS. PANMURE 
 moves towards the door while the others 
 shake hands with STULKELEY and bid 
 him (jood-b'je. They have all reached 
 the door when STULKELEY calls to them. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Mrs. Pannmre Mrs. Hebblethwaite my dear 
 
 Hebblethwaite ! [Pointing to JOSEPHA who is 
 
 leaning dejectedly upon the mantelpiece.] Miss 
 Quarendon ! 
 
 HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Heartily.] Confound it, yes! [He bustles over 
 to JOSEPHA, with MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE at his 
 heels, and wrings her hand.] Good-bye, my dear. 
 Go'blessyer. 
 
 MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE. 
 
 [Pushing HEBBLETHWAITE aside and shaking 
 hands with JOSEPHA.] Now, take my advice, Miss 
 Quarendon. Give up governessing in private fami- 
 lies ; you're not in the least suited to it. 
 
2 8o PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 LORING. 
 
 [Going to JOSEPHA, followed closely by DULCIE, 
 and shaking hands with her.] Er ah er 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [Elbowing him away and shaking JOSEPHA'S 
 hand.] Get out, Hughie. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [Coming to JOSEPHA.] Oh, Miss Quarendon, let 
 this be a lesson to us never to forsake the straight 
 for the crooked path. [Taking her hand.] Let us 
 always, on our journey through life 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Holding out her arms.] Josey ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 \Sending PANMURE, with a blow on the chest, on 
 
 to the settee.] Ah! Lottie ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 [Tottering to JOSEPHA,, weeping.] Pm sure I 
 
 don't mean to be unkind ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Embracing MRS. PANMURE, hysterically.] Ho, 
 ho, ho ! My old pal ! My old schoolmate ! Ho, ho, 
 ho, ho ! 
 
 [The door opens and WOODHOUSE enters with 
 an attempt at briskness. He is wearing 
 a black shade, with some cotton-wool 
 beneath it, over his right eye, and there 
 are some patches of court-plaster on his 
 knuckles. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PAN MURE 281 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Aghast.] My dear Talbot! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Coming forward, in horror.] Oh! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Coal-dust. Just as I was leaving the house 
 cart full of dam Wallsend ! Pardon. [Adjust- 
 ing his shade.] Joan's maid found this in the medi- 
 cine-cupboard. 
 
 STULKELEY and JOSEPHA. 
 [To each other.] Oh-h-h-h! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [To MRS. PANMURE, extending his hand.] My 
 dear Mrs. Panmure! [To the others.] My dear 
 friends ! But what a delight ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 [Not accepting his hand, sternly.} Mr. Wood- 
 house 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Surprised.] Eh? 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 You will learn from your cousin the object of my 
 husband's visit, and why I and my relatives if I 
 may include Mr. Loring under that denomination 
 why I and my relatives have accompanied him. 
 
282 PRESERVING MR.'. PANMURE 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Wonderingly.] Dear lady! 
 
 MES. PANMURE. 
 
 [With dignity.] Sir, I am willing to credit you 
 with having been animated by good intentions, but 
 even good intentions do not justify the falsehood 
 and deception lately practised by yoii while a guest 
 under my roof. 
 
 PANMURE. 
 
 [At her side.] No, b'George; gentleman's roof, 
 b'George ! 
 
 MRS. PANMURE. 
 
 And there is an oft-quoted dictum concerning 
 good intentions which you would do well to ponder 
 ovei at your leisure. [Glancing at STULKELEY who 
 is now on the left.] How far Mr. Stulkeley was 
 your confederate if confederate he was I do not 
 seek to inquire. I will content myself with request- 
 ing that you will return to me, by registered-post, 
 the emblem of purity which you so impudently ob- 
 tained and are so unworthy to wear. [Inclining her 
 head.] If ever we meet again, it will be as strangers' 
 [STULKELEY opens the door for her and she 
 passes out. PANMURE winks solemnly 
 at WOODHOUSE and follows his wife. 
 Then comes MRS. HEBBLETHWAITE, 
 who gives WOODHOUSE a frosty 'bow, 
 and HEBBLETHWAITE who, with a silent 
 chuckle, digs him in the ribs. LORING 
 comes next and pauses to regard WOOD- 
 HOUSE with scorn; whereupon t in a 
 fright, WOODHOUSE puts his hands pro- 
 tectingly to his cheeks. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 283 
 
 DULCIE. 
 
 [To LORING, coaxingly.] No, not to-day, 
 Hughie. 
 
 [Sniffing at WOODHOUSE, she pushes LORING 
 before her and they go out, followed by 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [As the door closes.] Vulgar crew! Vulgar 
 crew ! Devil take 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Coming to him.] Oh, Mr. Woodhouse, it's out! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 So I conclude. Devil take 'em ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Mr. Panmure has confessed everything. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Glad of it. Nasty slap for your saintly friend. 
 [Crossing to the fireplace.] To dare to address me 
 in those terms ! If a man presumed to speak to me 
 like that, I I I'd write him such a letter. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Sitting upon the settee on the left.] Poor Lot- 
 tie. Oh, poor Lottie ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Composing himself.] Anyhow, my dear Miss 
 Quarendon, I did my best to avert the ugly dis- 
 closure. 
 
284 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Gratefully.] Ah, yes; it was tremendously noble 
 of you. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Grandly.] No; [advancing] because I admit 
 it the act was not wholly a disinterested one on 
 my part. [Halting in the middle of the room.] 
 Josepha Josey even then the seed which has 
 since blossomed into a flower had begun to ger- 
 minate in my breast. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [TTO/t a sickly expression.] Oh! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Yes, as you have doubtless already gathered from 
 another source, I love you. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Wearily.] Mr. Stulkeley has mentioned 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 He was bound in honour to do so. [Coming 
 nearer.] Josey,, I am not blind to the fact that a 
 paltry secretaryship, a settled income of barely 
 twelve-hundred-a-year, and the possession of a few 
 rubber shares for the moment less elastic than you 
 would infer from the nature of the substance they 
 represent I am not, I say, blind to the fact that my 
 financial position compares unfavourably with my 
 
 cousin Reggie's. On the other hand 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Raising her eyes, appealingly .] Oh, must you? 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 285 
 
 WOODIIOUSE. 
 
 On the other hand, I have the advantage of youth, 
 a taste for literature and the arts, the power de- 
 veloped to a remarkable pitch of playing by ear 
 the current popular melodies on the piano, and the 
 reputation not, if I may say so, ill-deserved of 
 being an amusing raconteur. The two latter quali- 
 fications have gained for me a considerable place in 
 what survives in this country of refined society ; and 
 I cannot but think that, with a wife endowed, in a 
 measure, with modest but attractive gifts similar to 
 my own [noticing that she is observing him with a 
 twitching face} eh? [Inquiringly.} Did you ? 
 [She covers her mouth with her handkerchief con- 
 vulsively. } What ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. * 
 
 [Her shoulders heaving.} Oh! Oh! Oh! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Alarmed.} MydearJosey! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Ho, ho, ho ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Darling ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Oh ! Oh ! Oh, how funny you look ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Funny ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Rising} Ho, ho, ho! [Pointing at him.} 
 That dam Wallsend ! 
 
286 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Laughing constrainedly.] Ha, ha ! Ha, ha ! 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Ha, ha, ha ! 
 
 [They join hands and are laughing together 
 in their different moods when STULKE- 
 LEY returns. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Indignantly.] Talbot! [ JOSEPHA and WOOD- 
 HOUSE separate and STULKELEY comes between 
 them.] What are you doing! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Go away, Eeggie. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Go away ! My dear fellow, I've not nearly fin- 
 ished with Miss Quarendon. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 I can't help it. [Referring to his watch.] You 
 have had twenty-three minutes, to a second. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 That troublesome Mrs. Panmure 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 No fault of mine. I must beg you to leave the 
 room. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [T'o JOSEPHA.] Miss Quarendon 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 287 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [To STULKELEY.] You had at least ten minutes 
 before the Panmure tribe arrived. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [To JOSEPHA.] I appeal to you 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Any man who can't propose to a lady in ten min- 
 utes 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Taking JOSEPHA'S left hand.] Josepha 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Taking her right hand.] Josey 
 
 [She releases herself laughingly and retreats 
 to the back of the room. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [To WOODHOUSE.] Upon my word, Talbot ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Really, my dear Reggie ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Sitting upon the settee on the left.] I remain. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Also sitting upon the settee.] And I. [Find- 
 ing himself beside STULKELEY, lie rises and reseats 
 himself in the chair farthest from the end of the 
 settee.] I remain. 
 
 [There is a pause and then JOSEPHA turns 
 slowly and comes forward. 
 
288 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Thoughtfully.] Mr. Stulkeley [STTJLKELEY 
 rises.] Mr. Woodhouse [WooDHOUSE jumps up. 
 She looks at them sweetly] boys } as Mr. Panmure 
 calls you you've both been awfully kind to me. 
 
 STULKELEY and WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [In acknowledgment,} Oh ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Her hand to her brow.] And it's difficult, isn't 
 it without saying No to the two of you ? 
 
 STULKELEY and WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Moving a step towards her.] Ah ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 It's difficult to decide what answer to make. 
 [A per another pause, abruptly.} Look here! 
 [Again they take a step towards her. She faces 
 them deliberately.] Draw lots for me. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 My dear Miss Quarendon ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 My dear young lady ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Why, you've already drawn lots for the privilege 
 of being first to propose. [To WOODHOUSE.] Mr. 
 Stulkeley told me so, Mr. Woodhouse. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Shameful breach of confidence. 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 289 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [To WOODHOUSE.] Talbot ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 So why hesitate to go a step further ? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Agitatedly.} No, no, no; impossible! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Why? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Crossing to the fireplace.] I couldn't; I 
 couldn't. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 Why not? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Most unseemly. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Pacing the room on the left.] Most unseemly. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Facing JOSEPHA.] Not only is it unseemly, 
 but but but but I might lose again ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Or I. [Firmly.] No. No, no. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Shaking his head] No. No, no, no. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Shrugging her shoulders.] Well, as you please! 
 [She darts to the door, and they after 
 her. 
 
2QO PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Preventing her from opening the door.} Jo- 
 
 sepha ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 Josey ! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Looking from one to the other.] Shall I pre- 
 pare the bits of paper? [The men hold their heads 
 and groan.] Shall I? 
 
 STULKELEY and WOODHOUSE. 
 [Helplessly.] Oh! Oh! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Ha, ha, ha ! [She runs to the writing-table and, 
 seating herself there, tears two strips from a sheet 
 of paper.] The vase ! 
 
 [WOODHOUSE brings the vase from the cab- 
 inet at the back, STULKELEY the vase 
 from the console-table, and the two men 
 meet in the middle of the room. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Pointing to the vase which STULKELEY is carry- 
 ing, with great indignation.] Reggie ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 My clear fellow, so it is! [Hastily replacing the 
 vase upon the console-table.] I sincerely beg your 
 pardon. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Following STULKELEY.] Did you select that ac- 
 cursed jar designedly? 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 291 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Coming to WOODHOUSE.] I swear to you, my 
 
 dear Talbot ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Singular forgetfulness ! 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Taking WOODIIOUSE'S vase from him.] Try it. 
 [WOODHOUSE cautiously inserts his hand in the 
 vase.] Do, pray, be careful. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Several times repeating the process of dipping 
 his hand into the vase coldly.] Thank you for 
 your courtesy. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Who, glancing more than once over her shoul- 
 der at the men, has written upon the slips of paper 
 and hurriedly folded them.] Yase! 
 
 [STULKELEY carries the vase to JOSEPHA 
 while WOODHOUSE, with a look of re- 
 solve f turns up his shirt-cuff. JOSEPHA 
 rises and drops the pieces of paper 
 singly into the vase. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [To JOSEPHA.] What have you written? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [To JOSEPHA.] What have you written? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Faintly.] " Lucky man/' 
 
2Q2 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 " Lucky man " ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 " Lucky man " I 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Quaking.] "Lucky man" wins you? 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Excitably.] "Lucky man" wins you? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Almost inaudibly, nodding.] Yes. 
 
 STULKELEY and WOODHOUSE. 
 [Drawing a deep breath.] Ah-h-h-h! 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Talcing the vase from STULKELEY tremblingly.] 
 I'll hold the vase. [STULKELEY is pulling up his 
 coat-sleeve when WOODHOUSE presses forward and is 
 about to thrust his hand into the vase.] Ah, no ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 No? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 N-no-no; M-M-Mr. Stulkeley d-draws first. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Stiffly.] By all means. [Retiring to the fur- 
 ther side of the writing-table.] I yield to my 
 cousin's decided seniority. 
 
 [Controlling himself with difficulty, STUL- 
 KELEY dips his hand into the vase and 
 extracts one of the slips of paper. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Unfolding it with quivering fingers.] I I 
 can't ! It it won't ! [Uttering a cry.] Ah! 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 293 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 What ? 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 Lucky man"! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 Dash ! 
 
 [WOODHOUSE walks about furiously. Jo- 
 SEPHA places the vase upon the writing- 
 table and, sinking upon the fauteuil- 
 stool, covers her face with her hands. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 [Unsteadily.] Lucky man! [Sitting upon the 
 settee on the left, overcome by emotion.] Lucky 
 man! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Regaining his composure to STULKELEY.] 
 Well, I ha ! I offer you my warm felicitations, 
 my dear Reggie. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Sympathetically.] Oh, my dear Talbot ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Finding himself at the writing -table again and 
 putting his hand into the vase mechanically.] Fe- 
 licitations which I hope Miss Quarendon will not 
 disdain to share. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [ Whimpering. ] Oh ! Oh ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 As for me without wishing to disturb your hap- 
 piness [drawing out the second piece of paper and 
 unfolding it unconsciously] as for me, my life, my 
 career, are as blank as blank as this 
 
294 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 [He breaks off, staring at the paper. Rais- 
 ing her head, and turning it quickly, 
 JOSEPHA realises what has happened 
 and, with a gasp, starts up and rushes 
 at WOODHOUSE. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 Ah, no! Don't! You mustn't! [Seeing that 
 she is too late.] Oh I 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 "Lucky man"! [STULKELEY rises, appalled. 
 WOODHOUSE looks at JOSEPHA.] " L-1-lucky 
 man"? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Her chin on her breast.] Yes, but 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 But ? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [With a motion of her head towards STULKE- 
 LEY.] He he drew it first. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [After a pause.] I I understand. 
 
 [STULKELEY goes quietly to JOSEPHA, 
 touches her arm, and then retires to the 
 back. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Moving away from WOODHOUSE, crying.] Ho, 
 ho, ho! Oh, Mr. Wocdhouse, I d-d-didn't want to 
 wound your feelings by refusing you. I t-t-thought 
 it would make it easier for you if you believed you 
 had lost me by chance. [Turning to WOODHOUSE, 
 who has followed her, and taking his hand.] For- 
 give me. [He sighs heavily.] Who knows! Per- 
 
PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 295 
 
 haps, after all, the real lucky man is the man I 
 don . t marry. 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [In a gloomy voice.] A quibble. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Pressing his hand to her heart. ] Yes, forgive 
 me and forget me. Go abroad for a time be a 
 
 great traveller a discoverer ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Withdrawing his hand.] Ha ! How easy it is to 
 talk! [Bitterly.] The only spot on earth left to 
 be discovered is the end of the Cromwell Road. 
 
 [He leaves her, and she sits at the writing- 
 table and, with her elbows upon it, leans 
 her head upon her hands. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 [Dejectedly.] Oh! Oh! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Pausing, on his way to the door, at the table on 
 the left, and addressing STULKELEY who is now at 
 the fireplace.] Reggie, I fancied I detected you, a 
 little while ago, in an attempt to purloin my latch- 
 key. 
 
 [He produces his key-ring and detaches a 
 key from it. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Hurrying to him.] My dear fellow! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 [Laying the key upon the table.] There it is. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 I insist on your retaining it. 
 
296 PRESERVING MR. PANMURE 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 [Going to the door, haughtily.] No. 
 STULKELEY. 
 
 Talbot ! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 No. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 I entreat! 
 
 WOODHOUSE. 
 
 No. No, no. [His hand on the door-handle.] 
 Besides, I have a duplicate. [He departs, closing 
 the door. 
 
 STULKELEY. 
 [Turning to JOSEPHA with outstretched arms.] 
 
 Josepha ! 
 
 She rises and goes to him and he, putting 
 his arms about her, kisses her raptur- 
 ously. 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Releasing herself and, with a pout, drawing her 
 hand across her lips.] Oh, men will kiss me! 
 
 [The door is thrown open and Miss STUL- 
 KELEY, in her outdoor things, enters 
 excitedly. 
 
 Miss STULKELEY. 
 
 [Panting.] Tell me! Which is it? [To JO- 
 SEPHA.] Josepha ! [ JOSEPHA advances to her.] 
 Talbot or Eeginald? 
 
 JOSEPHA. 
 
 [Dropping her head upon Miss STULKELEY' s 
 bosom.] I I I suppose it's Reginald, 
 
 THE END, 
 
UNIVERSITY OP CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE 
 STAMPED BELOW 
 
 APS 16 1S20 
 6 1922 
 
 10 1926 
 
 30m-l,'15 
 
Y 102066 
 
 U.C.BERKELEY LIBRARIES 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY