The Project Gutenberg eBook of Dolly Reforming Herself by Henry Arthur Jones.

CAUTION—This play is fully protected under the copyright laws of the United States, is subject to royalty, and any one presenting the play without the consent of the author or his agents, will be liable to penalty under the law. All applications for amateur performances must be made to Samuel French, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York City.

"The crescendo of quarrel is most skilfully and drolly arranged;— scene on classic lines boldly challenging and, what is more, maintaining comparison with Sheridan." Mr. A. B. Walkley—The London Times.

"This new play, by Mr. Henry Arthur Jones, at The Haymarket, is surely as good a comedy as he has ever written.

I should say, in evaluating Mr. Jones, that his greatest asset is his humor. We are grateful that Mr. Jones has that comfortable gift which prevents him from dancing on us—that gift of humor whereby he is content to take us just as we are.

No playwright is more joyously observant than Mr. Jones; and none observes more accurately, in the milieu that he has chosen. Other playwrights may create more salient and memorable figures. But none of them creates figures so lifelike as Mr. Jones.

Nor is any one of them so fine a craftsman. We are not made conscious of it while the play is in progress. From the very outset, we are aware merely of certain ladies and gentlemen behaving with apparent freedom and naturalness. It is only when the play is over that we notice the art of it. The verisimilitude of "Dolly Reforming Herself" is all the more admirable because the play is founded on a philosophic question, and in the whole course of it there is not a scene, not a character (not even the butler's character), that is not strictly and logically relevant to this question. The whole fabric is wrought in a tight and formal pattern, yet the effect of it is as life itself. The question in point is "Can[4] we cure ourselves of our bad habits?" and the answer is worked not through a story, but simply through the behavior of a few people in a country-house.

The central scene of the play, however, is the scene between Dolly and her husband. The whole scene is delightful, worked out with the finest sense of dramatic rhythm: a truly great comic scene, of which Mr. Jones may well be proud."

TO MISS ETHEL IRVING

Will you accept the dedication of this little comedy, whose success at the Haymarket was so largely due to your fine and sincere performance of Dolly?

The following is a copy of the original cast of "Dolly Reforming Herself" produced at the Haymarket Theatre, on Tuesday, November 3rd., 1908.

Harry Telfer (Dolly's Husband) Mr. Robert Loraine
Matthew Barron (Dolly's Father) Mr. C. M. Lowne
Captain Lucas Wentworth (Dolly's Cousin) Mr. Charles R. Maude
Professor Sturgess Mr. E. Lyall Swete
The Rev. James Pilcher (Vicar of Crookbury) Mr. Herbert Bunston
Criddle Mr. Gilbert Porteous
Mrs. Harry Telfer (Dolly) Miss Ethel Irving
Mrs. Sturgess (Renie) Miss Margaret Halstan
Peters (Dolly's Maid) Miss Ada Webster

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

Harry Telfer (Dolly's husband).
Matthew Barron (Dolly's father).
Captain Lucas Wentworth (Dolly's cousin).
Professor Sturgess.
The Reverend James Pilcher (Vicar of Crookbury.)
Criddle.

Mrs. Harry Telfer (Dolly).
Mrs. Sturgess (Renie).
Peters (Dolly's maid).

Scene.—The Drawing-Room at Harry Telfer's, The Gables, Crookbury Green, Surrey.

Dolly Reforming Herself

ACT I.

Scene: Drawing-room at Harry Telfer's, The Gables, Crookbury Green, Surrey. A well-furnished room in a modern red brick country house. At the back, a little to the right, is a door leading into the hall. All along the right side is a glass partition, showing a conservatory which is entered by glass doors, one up stage, the other down. On the left side is a large fireplace. At the back, in the centre, is a handsome writing-desk with a shut down flap lid. Above the fireplace, facing the audience is a large sofa. To the right of sofa, and below it in the left centre of the room is a small table, and near to it an easy chair. Right centre down stage is a larger table.

Discover at writing-table, back to audience, Dolly Telfer, a bright little woman about thirty, busied with bills and papers. Bending over her, back to audience, is her father, Matt Barron, a pleasant-looking, easy-going cynic of sixty. Harry Telfer, Dolly's husband, an ordinary good-natured, weakish, impulsive Englishman about thirty-five, is standing with his back to the fire. Sitting on sofa, reading a scientific book, is Professor[10] Sturgess, a hard, dry, narrow, fattish scientific man about forty-five. At the table, right, reading a French novel, is Renie Sturgess, the Professor's wife, a tall, dark, handsome woman about thirty.

Harry. No, I can't say that I pay very much attention to sermons as a rule, but Pilcher gave us a regular downright, no-mistake-about-it, rouser at the Watch-night Service last night.

Matt. [Turning round.] I wonder what precise difference this rousing sermon will make in the conduct of any person who heard it.

Harry. Well, it's going to make a lot of difference in my conduct. At least, I won't say a lot of difference, because I don't call myself a very bad sort of fellow, do you?

Harry. At any rate I'm a thundering good husband, ain't I, Dolly? [Dolly takes no notice.] And I've got no flagrant vices. But I've got a heap of—well a heap of selfish little habits, such as temper, and so on, and for the coming year I'm going to knock them all off.

Harry. Oh, I'm thoroughly resolved! I promised Dolly last night, didn't I, Dolly? [Dolly takes no notice.] Dolly too! Dolly was awfully impressed by the sermon, weren't you, Dolly?

Harry. Yes. Before we went to bed she gave me her word, that if I'd give her a little help, she'd pay off all her bills, and live within her allowance for the future, didn't you, Dolly?

Matt. Well, that will be another score for Pilcher—that is, if Dolly does live within her allowance.[11]

Dolly. These tradespeople! [Comes down to Matt.] I'm almost sure I've paid this bill once—if not twice. Then there's a mistake of thirty shillings in the addition—you're good at figures, Dad. Do add that up for me. My head is so muddled.

Harry. Aren't you glad, Doll, that you made that resolution not to have any more bills?

Dolly. It will be heavenly! To go about all day with the blessed thought that I don't owe a farthing to anybody. It's awful!

Harry. Cheer up, little woman! You don't owe such a very alarming amount, do you?

Harry. We'll go thoroughly into it by-and-by. In fact I did mean to give you a pleasant little Christmas surprise, and pay off all your debts.

Dolly. Well, I haven't got the money sense! I simply haven't got it! I was born without it![12]

Dolly. [Taking the bill.] You're sure? Then I'm convinced I've paid it! [Looking at bill.] Yes! Thirty-four, seven, six. Professor Sturgess——

Prof. I've given my entire life to their study, but I cannot claim that I understand them.

Dolly. Fulks and Garner have sent me a most impertinent note requesting immediate payment.

Dolly. How do you account for my having the most vivid impression that I've paid it—so vivid that I cannot shake it off?

Matt. Isn't it an instance of that obscure operation of the feminine mind whereby the merest wish becomes an accomplished fact?

Dolly. My dear Dad, I actually remember the exact amount: thirty-four, seven, six. Thirty-four, seven, six. I shall never enter Fulks and Garnet's shop again!

Lucas. Same to you. [Shaking hands.] Happy New Year, everybody! Good afternoon, Harry!

Renie. Oh no, I'm sure Mr. Pilcher's sermon ought to make us all very much better.

Dolly. May I introduce you to Professor Sturgess—my cousin Captain Wentworth.

Lucas. Yes! I'd nothing much better to do, and Dolly was cracking up this new parson of yours, so I thought I'd jog over and sample him.

Matt. A dozen miles over here at midnight; an hour's service in a cold church; and a dozen miles back to Aldershot, in the sleet and snow. I hope the sermon thoroughly braced you up![14]

Dolly. Dad, I think it's shocking bad taste of you to keep on sneering at Mr. Pilcher!

Matt. I'm not sneering. I'm only curious to follow up this wonderful sermon, and trace its results on all of you.

Dolly. Well, you can see its results. [Lucas has got near to Renie, stands with his back to her, takes out a letter from his coat-tail pocket, holds it out for her to take. She takes it, pops it in her novel, and goes on reading. He moves away from her.] Take only our own family. Harry and I both have turned over a new leaf. Renie, you said Mr. Pilcher had set you thinking deeply——

Lucas. Heaps! I won't say I'm going to set up for a saint straight off, because—well—I'm not so sure I could bring it off, even if I tried——

Matt. That's what holds me back, my wretched nervous fear that I shouldn't bring it off. Still, in justice to Pilcher, I hope you're not going to let his sermon be wasted.

Lucas. Oh, no! My first spare five minutes I'm going to brisk about, and do a bit of New Year's tidying up.

Pilcher. [Genially.] Improving the New Year by getting a thorough knowledge of Parisian life and manners, I see.

Renie. [Confused.] No!—I had begun the book a week ago and so I thought—a—I'd better finish it.

Pilcher. [A little surprised.] Enjoyed it! Now I meant to make you all very uncomfortable!

Dolly. Oh, you gave us a good shaking up, and we deserved it! I don't think you've met Professor Sturgess?

Pilcher. [Advancing to Professor.] No, but I've read his book, "Man, the Automaton."

Pilcher. [Shaking hands very cordially.] With the most profound disapproval, with boundless, uncompromising dissent and antagonism!

Prof. Certainly. The longer I live, the more I'm convinced that free will is a purely subjective illusion.

Dolly. Do you mean that when I will to do a certain thing I can't do it? Oh, that's absurd. For instance, I will to go and touch that chair! [She goes and touches it.] There! [Triumphantly.] I've done it! That shows I've got free will. [The Professor shakes his head.] Well, then how did I do it?

Prof. I affirm that your willing to touch that chair or not to touch it, your actual touching it, or not touching it; your possession or non-possession of a criminal impulse——

Prof. [Shakes his head and goes on.] Your yielding to that criminal impulse or your not yielding to it—all these states of consciousness are entirely dependent upon the condition, quantity and arrangement of certain atoms in the gray matter of your brain. You think, you will, you act according as that gray matter works. You did not cause or make that condition of the atoms of your gray matter, therefore you are not responsible for thinking or acting in this[17] way or that, seeing that your thoughts, and your actions, and that direction of your impulses which you call your will, are all precisely determined and regulated by the condition and arrangement of these minute atoms of your gray matter!

Dolly. [Has at first listened with great attention, but has grown bewildered as the Professor goes on.] I don't care anything about my gray matter! I've quite made up my mind I won't have any more bills!

Pilcher. [Turning to Renie.] Does Mrs. Sturgess agree with the Professor's doctrine?

Matt. It's a very nutty and knotty problem. I'm watching to see Dolly and Harry solve it!

Matt. Excellent! I should have heard it myself, but I've reached an age when it would be dangerous to give up any of my old and cherished bad habits. So in place of going to church and selfishly reforming myself, I shall have to be content with watching Dolly and Harry reform themselves.

Dolly. Don't take any notice of him, Mr. Pilcher, he's the most cynical, hardened reprobate! I have to blush for him a hundred times a day.

Matt. And in order to settle once and for all this vexed question of free will and moral responsibility,[18] I'll bet you, Harry, a simple fiver, and I'll bet you Dolly, a new Parisian hat, and half a dozen pairs of gloves that you won't live up to your good resolutions, and that on next New Year's Day you'll neither of you be one ha'penny the better for all the wise counsels Mr. Pilcher gave you last night.

Dolly. I'll take you, too! In fact, I'll double it; two new Parisian hats, and a dozen pairs of gloves!

Pilcher. I hope I sha'n't be accused of talking shop if I venture to recall that betting was one of the bad habits I especially warned my congregation against, last night!

Harry. By Jove, yes—I'd forgotten all about that! Of course, if you wish us to cry off——

Pilcher. Well, not exactly. I might perhaps suggest an alternative plan which was tried with great success in my late parish——

Pilcher. A very capital good fellow—an auctioneer and land surveyor, my churchwarden in fact, by name Jobling—found that in spite of constant good resolutions, certain small vices were gradually creeping upon him. There was an occasional outburst of temper to his clerks, an occasional half glass too much; and on one lamentable market day, he actually discovered himself using bad language to Mrs. Jobling——

Pilcher. My Christmas Blanket Club happened to be on the road to bankruptcy. By the way, our[19] Blanket Club here is in low water. Well, I gave Jobling a small box with a hole at the top sufficiently large to admit half a crown. And I suggested that whenever he was betrayed into one of these little slips, he should fine himself for the benefit of my Blanket Club——

Harry. Good business! Dolly, where's that collecting-box they sent us from the Hospital for Incurables?

Matt. Did your Blanket Club remain in bankruptcy, or what must have been an even more distressing alternative to you, did Jobling continue to use bad language to his wife?

Pilcher. We struck a happy medium. My Blanket Club balance was considerably augmented, and Jobling's behaviour considerably improved under the stress of the fines.

Harry. [Placing the box on the table.] There! My name's Jobling for the present! By Jove! that was a very neat idea of yours.

Pilcher. Jobling's tariff for a mild little profanity like "By Jove," was a mere sixpence.

Harry. Oh yes! I'll toe the mark! [Takes six pence out of his pocket and puts it in his box.] I'm determined I'll cure myself of all these bad little tricks——

Matt. [To Pilcher.] Will you kindly let my daughter have your lowest tariff for ladies?

Dolly. Oh, please don't be in such a hurry. What about your own contribution? Mr. Pilcher, I hope you don't intend to let my father escape.

Pilcher. I understood Mr. Barron was prepared to risk a five-pound note that you and Mr. Telfer will not carry your New Year resolutions into practice?

Matt. With the almost certain chance of drawing a five-pound note from Harry and a new hat from Dolly.

Pilcher. I'm afraid I can't hold out those inducements. But I can offer you the very pleasing alternatives of chuckling over your daughter's and Mr. Telfer's lapses, or of contributing five pounds to an excellent charity!

Renie. [Becoming aware that Matt is watching them.] Yes, that arrangement of the stamens is quite unusual. It's what the gardener calls a "sport"—[21]—

Matt. That's just what I was going to propose. There are four of you here, who heard Mr. Pilcher's excellent discourse last night. And you are all determined to turn over a new leaf this year. Isn't that so?

Matt. On the first of January next, I am prepared to put a sovereign in that money-box for every one of you who can honestly declare that he has broken himself or herself of his bad habits during the year.

Matt. H'm. I don't wish to be exacting—I've no doubt each of you has his own little failing or weakness. Well, come to me and say on your honour that you've conquered this or that pet special weakness—and in goes my sovereign.

Matt. Well, Mr. Pilcher, I think I've made your Blanket Club a very handsome offer.

Pilcher. Very handsome. [Taking out watch.] I hope our friends will cordially respond, for the sake of my Blanket Club.

Pilcher. I've heaps of New Year's calls to make. I'm afraid I must be going; good afternoon, Professor!

Pitcher. Now, was I eloquent? I suppose I was, since I've produced such an invigorating New Year atmosphere.

Pilcher. Do. And then we shall be able to estimate the effect of my eloquence.

Pilcher. You might be inclined to risk a sovereign on yourself for the Blanket Club?

Matt. I daren't. I can't trust my gray matter—I should make a dreadful fiasco.

Prof. Oh, you'd better take your little constitutional. You missed it yesterday. I'm sure your restlessness is due to your not taking regular exercise.

Prof. I ascribe my constant good health and contentment to my unvarying routine of work and diet and exercise. [Exit.

Lucas. Just a shade! Dolly, I haven't seen your new fish-pond. Is anybody going to meet the Professor?

Matt. I am. [Linking his arm in Lucas's.] We'll get into an unvarying routine of exercise for the next hour. Come along!

Dolly. Take care! You'll muddle all my papers. [Taking bills out of his hands, and closing down the writing-desk.] I want to have a little talk with Renie—you'd better join them at the fish-pond.

Harry. Well, so long as you do get them sorted, and squared up. What about after tea?

Harry. After tea. We'll have a nice cosy half-hour, all to ourselves, and sweep them all out of our minds.

Dolly. [Nods cheerfully.] Yes, a nice cosy half-hour and sweep them all out of our minds. [With his gesture. Exit Harry briskly. She repeats his gesture.] [25] Sweep them all out of our minds. [Opening desk and regarding bills with dismay.] Oh, don't I wish I could! Oh, Renie!

Dolly. [Has taken up one or two bills.] These bills! These awful bills! These vampires!

Renie. Yes, dear! I suppose it's rather dreadful, but it must be sweet to have a dear, kind husband who'll pay them all off.

Dolly. Harry? He made a dreadful fuss last time. And then I didn't show him all.

Dolly. Only bills! Only? Well, I'm going to show him every one this time. And what a lesson it shall be to me! That's why I'm so grateful to Mr. Pilcher.

Dolly. Yesterday afternoon I thought I'd screw up my courage to go through the bills just to see where I was. My dear, I was paralysed! I had the most appalling time! Well, Mr. Pilcher's sermon came just in the nick of time. I thought "what an idiot I must be to endure all this misery just for want of a little resolution."

Renie. And then the heavenly feeling of being forgiven, and taken in the arms of the man you love![26]

Dolly. Yes, so long as it isn't money. And even then I'd help you, only I can't.

Renie. It's such a strange story. [Moving away, Dolly makes a little dubious grimace behind her back. Renie suddenly comes up to Dolly very effusively.] Dolly, I will trust you. You know I thoroughly admire and honour my husband.

Renie. Give me your sacred promise you'll never breathe a word to any living soul?[27]

Renie. Well, dear, you know what my life has been. Few women have met with so little real sympathy as I. Few women have suffered——

Dolly. Lu!? Lu!? Of course! I might have known he'd never ride a dozen miles in the snow for a sermon! It's disgraceful of him!

Renie. I met him for the first time in this room three weeks ago last Thursday afternoon.

Dolly. What had to be? Renie, how far has this gone? You've been meeting him alone——

Renie. However often I may have met him, he has offered me nothing but the most chivalrous attention. He has always respected me——

Dolly. You don't suppose I'm going to have this sort of thing in my own house, do you?

Dolly. Do you remember the awful row I got into at school when your boy's love letter was discovered in the Banbury cakes you'd persuaded me to take in for you?

Dolly. Not since I've been married. Of course before your marriage your outrageous flirting didn't much matter——

Renie. It was only in the vain hope of meeting with one who could offer me the perfect homage that I have always felt would one day be mine.

Dolly. Well, he mustn't offer it here! I shall tell him so very plainly. He'd better not stay to dinner.

Renie. There is no reason Captain Wentworth should not stay to dinner. He has given me the one absolutely blameless unselfish devotion of his life. I've accepted it on that distinct understanding. I've trusted you with my secret, a secret honourable alike to Captain Wentworth and myself. You've promised not to breathe a word to any living soul. You surely don't mean to break your word?

Renie. My husband has to go to Edinburgh next week to give a course of lectures there.[29]

Renie. He wants me to go with him. Dearest, it would be perfectly sweet of you to ask me to stay on another fortnight here.

Renie. There could be no possible harm in it now that you know our attachment is quite innocent and that you can look after me every moment. Dearest, you might oblige me in a tiny little matter like this.

Dolly. Renie, you said Mr. Pilcher's sermon came just in the nick of time——

Renie. Yes, indeed. I went to church in a perfect fever. I didn't know what to do. Well, as I listened to Mr. Pilcher everything became quite clear to me. I resolved I would accept Captain Wentworth's pure unselfish devotion and make it a lever to raise all my ideals and aspirations!

Dolly. Yes, but not the sort of aspirations you have for Lucas. I suppose you know he makes love to every woman he comes across?

Renie. [Looks at Dolly severely.] My dear Dolly, with your light frivolous nature it is impossible for you to understand a pure and exalted attachment like ours. Listen! [Taking out a letter.] This will show you his fine nature, his fine feelings—"From the first moment I saw you——"

Matt. Very pleasant—and instructive. The Professor asked me to remind you that he's waiting for you at the fish-pond.

Renie. I'd better go. I shall get a little lecture all to myself if I don't. [Going off, to Dolly.] Thank you, dear, so much for your kind invitation to stay on!

Dolly. She wants me to invite her. But I won't if I can help it. [Goes to him suddenly.] Dad!

Dolly. No, I've promised her not to breathe a word. So you must guess. [Pause.] Have you guessed?

Matt. [After a pause.] Yes. Well, I—[Begins to chuckle.] So Lucas is up to his old games!

Matt. I've just left—— [Chuckling.] I've just left the Professor down at the fish-pond explaining to Lucas all about his gray matter, and—— [Roars.

Matt. Twelve miles in the snow—— I say, Doll, we're making a splendid start for the New Year! [Laughing.

Dolly. Dad! Will you please leave off? [Shaking his shoulder.] Will you be serious?

Matt. Yes, my dear!! [Pulling himself together and straightening his features.] Yes, I will. After all, it's a serious matter.

Matt. It's serious for me, as I was Lucas's guardian. And it's serious for him. If he goes and plays the fool, it may spoil his career—the young ass!

Dolly. Very well, then, will you please treat it seriously and set to work and help me?

Dolly. Oh, Lucas is writing her silly letters and she's talking about his pure and exalted devotion, and making it a lever to raise all her ideals and aspirations.

Dolly. Oh, no; she knows how to take care of herself. But it's dangerous for me!

Dolly. If there's the least bit of scandal she'll contrive to drag me into it! I know her so well.

Matt. [Walking about, cogitating.] Yes, and we mustn't let Lucas make a mess of it.

Matt. When I was over at Aldershot last week Sir John said something about giving Lucas an A. D. C. in India. I'll drive over to-morrow and ask Sir John to pack Lucas out of the country for a year or two!

Dolly. But if they find out they're going to be parted, it is just this next week when there will be all the danger.

Matt. They ought! They ought! Not a doubt about it! Not a shadow of doubt! They ought to be parted to-night!

Dolly. No, I sha'n't tell Harry. Harry would only get into a temper and muddle it. No, you must get Lucas to take himself off.

Dolly. Then please try it. Dad, you do realize how very serious this is, don't you?

Matt. Yes, of course. Very well, I'll tackle Lucas. We'll see what a high tone will do with him. Heigho! Sad! Sad!! Sad!!!—Sad! Sad!! Sad!!![33]

Dolly. [In a very severe tone to Lucas, who is peeping into conservatory.] Are you looking for anything?

Harry. [Scraping away at the collecting-box.] Don't forget, Doll—our cosy half hour after tea——

Matt. [Has come up behind Harry, touches the arm he is scraping with.] Hospital for Incurables! I shouldn't scrape that off at present.

ACT II.

Scene: The same, on the same evening, after dinner. The sofa is now brought down below the fireplace, and fronts the audience a little diagonally, its right end being farthest up stage. The small table with the hospital box, and the easy chair are above the sofa, a little to the right of it.

Renie. But I don't understand. Captain Wentworth and I have been so little together——

Dolly. Well, my dear, there it is! My father is the last man to pry into other people's affairs, but you see it has been forced upon his notice. And from the tone he took——

Renie. [More and more alarmed.] But there hasn't been anything glaring——

Renie. But I cannot imagine—— [Suddenly.] It must have been that day at the stile![35]

Renie. That's all. He may have taken a little longer about it than was quite necessary, and I may have leaned a little heavier than the circumstances required. But it was all done in perfectly good taste.

Renie. [Firing up.] He is always most respectful! In the most delicate, exquisitely chivalrous way, he implored me for one first and only kiss, and just as I was refusing him, somebody passed the dairy windows——

Renie. But I was quite cold and correct—— [Very anxiously.] Dolly, tell me exactly what Mr. Barron said?

Dolly. At first he was going to speak to you himself, but I said, "No, that's my duty! I'm her oldest friend; I'll talk to her!"

Dolly. So, at last he consented, and said: "Very well. Be very firm with her, because this sort of thing taking place under my very nose and under my daughter's roof is what I cannot, and will not, tolerate for one moment!"

Dolly. Didn't you notice something strange in your husband's manner at dinner?

Dolly. My dear, if my father noticed it, why not your husband? Suppose all this time the Professor has been quietly, stealthily watching you and Lucas.

Dolly. Of course not. Naturally he would hide his suspicions from you till the right moment.

Dolly. Now, dear, you see how serious things are. You mustn't run any more risks. This must be broken off to-night.

Renie. Could you find out exactly how much he has seen and heard, and—a—pump him a little?

Renie. [Breaking down.] Oh, Dolly, this blow could not have fallen at a more cruel moment.

Renie. It came just when I had lost all the illusions of girlhood, when all my woman's nature began to cry out——

Dolly. Hush! Voices! I thought it might be Lucas and the Professor quarrelling.

Renie. And if he did—Dolly, is there one man living, except my husband, who would condemn me for being the object of a noble, single-hearted devotion like Captain Wentworth's?

Dolly. No, dear, perhaps not. But, you see, as[38] husbands they take quite a different view of things from what they do merely as men.

Renie. But I assure you there isn't—nothing could be further from my thoughts.

Renie. [Clasping Dolly's hand warmly.] Oh, Dolly, you can help me so much.

Renie. If Lucas and I are parted—— [Breaks down.] I can't bear it! I can't bear it!

Renie. [Sobbing.] I will. And if at any time I long to hear how he bears our separation, you won't mind receiving a letter, and sending it on to me?

Dolly. I'm afraid I couldn't do that, dear. You see, I'm so careless, and if I left the letter about, and Harry found it—no, dear——

Dolly. Yes, dear, I'll do anything in my power! [Suddenly.] I'll tell you what I can do!

Dolly. My father is telling Lucas he must leave to-night. Well, I can spare you all the pain and misery of saying "Good-bye," and take one last message to him.

Renie. [Curtly.] No, thank you. It's most unkind of you to send him away like this. I must see him alone before he goes.

Dolly. [Shakes her head.] My father insists, and suppose Lucas feels that he owes it to your reputation to go quietly——

Renie. Tell him how proud I am of his noble, unselfish devotion; tell him I shall always look upon it as the one supreme happiness of my life to have known him——

Prof. [In his hard, metallic voice.] Observe that woman's facial angle—[pointing] the peculiar curve of the lip, and the irregular formation of the nose.

Prof. Jane Sweetman, the notorious trigamist. Looking at that woman's cranium I maintain it was impossible for her to avoid——

Harry. [Has examined the illustration.] By Jove, yes—anybody can see she was bound to come a moral cropper, eh?

Prof. [Bringing out another illustration, offering it to Matt.] Now look at this.

Lucas. So that's Jane Sweetman! Well, if Jane[41] was bound to come a moral cropper, I'm very glad I wasn't bound to come a moral cropper with Jane, eh, Dolly? [Very pleasantly.

Dolly. [Very severely.] I should scarcely have thought you troubled whom you came a moral cropper with!

Prof. Exactly! Observe the soft, almost watery condition of that gray matter. What is the inevitable consequence?

Prof. The Pyromaniac. At the age of four set fire to her mother's bed. At twelve was found saturating blankets with petroleum; at sixteen fired three hayricks, for which she was sentenced to six months' imprisonment.

Matt. Poor Harriet! But of course if her gray matter went and got watery——

Prof. Just so! I maintain that with her gray matter in that condition it was a stupid crime to send her to prison.

Dolly. [Looking round from desk.] But what are we to do with people whose gray matter goes wrong?[42]

Prof. I propose to deal with that question at Edinburgh. [To Matt.] You might, perhaps, care to run down to Edinburgh for my lectures——

Matt. I should love it above all things; but the fact is, I'm so thoroughly of your opinion——

Matt. Completely. All my life I've been doing things I should never have dreamed of doing if my gray matter had done its duty and not got watery.

Harry. [Begins.] Yes, when you come to think of all the rotten things you find yourself doing, you feel, by Jove——

Harry. I'll go and get the balls out and chalk the cues. [Going up to door.] Doll, [taps the writing-desk] you put it off after tea—by-and-by, you know!

Dolly. [She has finished letter, has risen, and closed writing-desk.] By-and-by.

Prof. Renie, you were complaining of headache. It would be wise to take a short stroll in the cool air.

Dolly. I've a splitting headache—I must get a little air. And Dad wants to have a talk with Lucas, don't you?

Dolly. [Facing Lucas, speaking firmly.] No, by-and-by will not be just as convenient. Now, Renie, we'll leave them together.

Matt. [Reading Dolly's note.] "Be very severe with him. Make a great point of the dairy windows. He'll understand." Dairy windows?

Lucas. I can't think what's the matter with Dolly. She has done nothing but snub me all the evening.

Matt. Done anything! I'm a man of the world! nobody can accuse me of being strait-laced, and[44] therefore I suppose you think you can come here and set at defiance all the——it's disgraceful!

Matt. I'm not hinting! I'm going to speak out very plainly, and I tell you that I look upon your conduct as something atrocious!

Matt. Well, after the dairy windows, can you stand there and tell me you aren't thoroughly, completely, heartily ashamed of yourself?

Matt. [Regards him for a few moments.] Well, I'm astonished! If you don't consider your behaviour d—ee—d awful, will you please find me some word that will describe it?

Lucas. You know you're putting a much worse construction on this than the necessities of the case demand.

Lucas. I've nothing to reproach myself with. Mrs. Biggs wasn't out of the dairy three minutes, and you were hanging about the windows all the time.

Lucas. Yes, and I must say that when you saw two people engaged in an interesting conversation the least you could do was to pass on and take no notice.

Lucas. Well, what did you call it? If it comes to that, what do you accuse me of?[45]

Matt. Well, here you are, on the first day of the year, after listening to a most eloquent sermon, after making a solemn resolution to give up all your bad habits——

Lucas. Excuse me, I expressly stated that I didn't mean to give up all my bad habits. And I don't call this a bad habit.

Lucas. Of course in one sense it is a bad habit. But it isn't a bad habit in the sense that other bad habits are bad habits. Look at all the decent chaps who've been led into it!

Matt. That doesn't excuse you. And if you think that I'm going to countenance your conduct, you are very much mistaken in your estimate of my character.

Lucas. When you were my age, if you found yourself alone in a dairy with a good-looking woman, and she was good for a dozen kisses or so, wouldn't you have taken advantage of it?

Matt. Well, I don't say that at your age I might not have been tempted—and of course we must all go through a certain amount of experience, or how should we be able to advise you youngsters?

Matt. Well, I remember his talking to me very seriously—I suppose I was about your age—did I ever tell you, Lucas, [taking Lucas's arm affectionately] about a very remarkable auburn-haired girl, Madge Seaforth?

Matt. Forty-eight miles one glorious May night! I let her beat me! God bless her! I let her beat me! And just as the sun rose we caught sight of Salisbury spire.

Matt. Jolly? And the bacon and eggs we got through for breakfast! Jolly? It was romance! It was poetry! Ah! Lu, my boy, you may say what you like, there's nothing like it on this side heaven. I told you about Mrs. Satterwaite dressing up as a widow and selling her husband?

Matt. Well, I bet the little hussy a fiver. Oh, Satterwaite richly deserved all he got—I can see Satterwaite's face now, and hers, as she stepped out of the cupboard, with the wickedest twinkle in the wickedest black eye! Ho! Ho! Heigho! Sad! Sad!! Sad!!!—Sad! Sad!! Sad!!! Come, come, Lucas! This won't do! This will never do! Now to get back to this business of yours——

Matt. Short. This Mrs. Sturgess—Dolly says there's a lot of nonsense going on, gushing letters and so on,—damned silly thing writing letters, Lu——

Matt. You're seeing her every day. If you must carry on this tomfoolery, why not do it by word of mouth? Why write it down, to show what an ass you've been?

Lucas. Well, she's a jolly good-looking woman, and naturally a chap—naturally—I don't know that I ain't a bit in love with her.

Matt. Well, it doesn't much matter. If you aren't in love with her you're a fool to risk a scandal. If you are in love you'll most likely do some silly jackass thing that will knock your career on the head, eh?

Matt. Look at it that way! Anyhow, she's a married woman, and you're here as a guest—it isn't the right thing to do, is it?

Matt. Yes, you've got to. You can tell Doll I gave it to you hot and strong, and you're going to clear out, and not see Mrs. Sturgess again——

Matt. Yes, very seriously, extra seriously, and he's going to do the right thing and clear out, aren't you, Lucas?

Dolly. [Still a little severe.] I'm pleased to hear it. [To Lucas.] You've behaved in a most scandalous——

Matt. He has. I've told him all that. [Winks at Dolly to keep her quiet.] And he sees it quite plainly, don't you?

Lucas. That nothing has taken place which, if rightly looked at, could reflect discredit either upon the lady, or, I hope, upon myself. And secondly, whatever fault there may have been, is entirely mine.

Matt. That's satisfactory! It always ought to be the man's fault. Heaven forbid it should ever be theirs. Good chap! Good chap! [Patting him.] Dolly, he's behaving splendidly. Now, Lu, good-night.

Lucas. Yes, but—— [turns to Matt with appealing gesture. Uncle, you didn't mean to pack me off like this——

Matt. Yes, my boy! Remember the occasion. First day of the New Year. Take time by the forelock. Off you go!

Dolly. Criddle, please have Captain Wentworth's portmanteau taken to the billiard-room.

Dolly. He wishes to change there, and please send to the Red Lion and ask them to have Captain Wentworth's horse saddled.

Criddle. It's a bit colder, sir. Looks as if we were going to have another heavy fall of snow.[50]

Lucas. I don't think I'll go to-night, Criddle. If I want the gee saddled, I'll go and tell them myself.

Lucas. [In arm-chair.] I say, Dolly, you don't really expect me to go careering over that heath at this ungodly hour?

Dolly. You can't stay here. Renie is very much upset; she has had hysterics. So I've put her in the spare room.

Dolly. [Shakes her head.] I can't ask the servants to make up impossible beds in impossible places at this ungodly hour.

Lucas. Just as I'd summoned up all my resolution to do the right thing, and avoid ructions for your sake, you pounce down on me, and order me off the premises, and——

Dolly. [Getting angry.] If you don't behave yourself and go off quietly, I shall have to order you off the premises.

Matt. Now, my hero! [Lifting him out of the arm-chair.] Buckle on your armor! Sally forth! Once more unto the breach!

Lucas. Well, I'll go and have a look at the weather. [Goes sulkily up to door.] Mind you, if you turn me out I won't be responsible if there's a flare up——

Lucas. [Goes off, sulky, muttering.] Of all the—turning me out—beastly infernal nuisance!

Dolly. It would serve them both right if there was to be a flare-up—only I'm sure she'd drag me into it somehow. [Criddle appears at door.] Please send and ask them at the Red Lion to saddle Captain Wentworth's horse and send it here at once.

Dolly. Lucas is going to behave as badly over this as he did over the governess. Dad——!

Dolly. Of course, Lucas is in the army, but surely he—he isn't a fair sample?

Dolly. [Enraged.] I don't care if the heavens come down! You're going back to Aldershot to-night.

Lucas. But I tell you—— [Appeals to Matt.] It's simply impossible for me to ride across that heath——

Lucas. Yes, I did! Last night! And never again, thank you! No! I don't mind shaking down anywhere to oblige——

Dolly. [Comes up to him finally.] Lucas, this is abominable! I suppose you think because we treated you so leniently over that wretched governess——

Lucas. I didn't mind your slanging me, but you might have had a little consideration for her feelings, because, after all, she was one of your own sex!

Matt. Come, Lu. You're not playing the game! You promised to take yourself off.

Lucas. [Comfortably seated.] Well, I will take myself off, only let me take myself off in my own way.

Dolly. She said "She should always value your noble devotion, and be proud that she had known you; but you must see how hopeless it was, and that she trusted you would go away at once and leave her to respect you, as you had always respected her!"[53]

Matt. A very pretty, touching little adieu! Does her great credit. Now, Lu! Cut it! Come, my boy!

Matt. I'm driving over to Aldershot to see Sir John. I shall look you up——

Lucas. [Is going up to door slowly and reluctantly, turns.] I suppose if I were to give you my solemn promise I wouldn't see her, I couldn't shake down on that sofa.

Lucas. [Goes a few more steps towards door, turns.] I suppose I couldn't see Mrs. Sturgess? [Dolly looks indignant.] Only to say good-bye.

Dolly. [Indignantly.] Renie, you promised me you wouldn't come downstairs again!

Renie. Yes, dear, but I felt I couldn't rest under your father's unjust suspicion. [Goes up to Matt, seizes his hand sympathetically.] Dolly tells me you[54] have been watching the friendship that all unconsciously has sprung up between Captain Wentworth and myself——

Renie. I feel you may have seen, or guessed something, that has given you a wrong impression.

Renie. If you have, I beg you to speak out and give us a chance of defending ourselves. Tell us exactly what you have seen, and what you suspect——

Matt. My dear Mrs. Sturgess, I haven't seen anything, and I don't suspect anything.

Renie. [Clasping his hand eagerly.] Thank you so much. Friendship between a man and a woman is so misunderstood.

Dolly. Yes, Lucas had a friendship with a governess here which we all misunderstood—till afterwards.

Renie. Now that there is no chance of your misjudging our friendship, I don't mind saying—— [Shows signs of breaking down.] You won't misunderstand me? [Clinging to his hand.

Renie. Under other circumstances—let that pass! [Wrings Matt's hands.] Thank you, thank you! [Goes to Lucas.] Captain Wentworth, I shall always be proud to have known you.

Renie. I shall always cherish the memory of our[55] friendship, but it might be misunderstood, and so [breaking down, but bearing up with an effort], you will behave like the gallant gentleman I know you to be, and say good-bye to me for ever!

Renie. [Face buried in hands, moans out.] Go, go! In pity's name don't make it harder for me!

Dolly. [Looking off at door.] They'll be coming out of the billiard-room directly.

Lucas. What on earth do they mean? A valuable horse like that—just clipped—standing about on a night like this—who told them?

Lucas. I can't go back to Aldershot in this kit. [Pointing to his dress-clothes.] Tell them to take it back to the Red Lion!

Dolly. And Criddle, give the man Captain Wentworth's portmanteau to take to the Red Lion at the same time.

Renie. [Goes to Matt impulsively—and seizes his hand.] At least this bitter experience has gained me one true friend.

Renie. [Standing in the middle of the room, pitying herself.] That's where we get the worst of it, we women who have hearts! We must feel, we must show our feelings, and then we get trampled down in the fight. Oh, Dolly, how I envy you your nature![57]

Dolly. Peters, will you bank up the fire in the spare room and make everything comfortable for Mrs. Sturgess?

Renie. [Still in the middle of the room, pitying herself.] So my poor little tragedy is ended! [To Matt.

Renie. No bones, but how about hearts? Well, I must bear it. [With a weary smile.] Mustn't I?

Renie. Shall I ever be comfortable again? Will things ever be the same? I wonder!

Dolly. [Calls his attention to Renie's exit and makes a furious gesture after her.] I know she'll be here next Christmas!

Matt. [Seated comfortably with his cigar and paper] I daresay she will——

ACT III.

Scene: The same. Discover Matt in the same seat and attitude, with paper and cigar. Dolly enters.

Dolly. [Seated.] First she had another fit of hysterics—then she longed to go out into the night air to cool her fevered brow—then she moaned out something about her noble Lucas——

Dolly. I've persuaded her to let Peters undress her. I've got her off my hands at last.

Dolly. [Repeats in a slow, aggrieved, enraged way, emphasizing each syllable.] Whatever happens, I will not have that woman in my house next Christmas. You hear that?

Dolly. I mean it, this time. And I won't have Lucas here again for a very long time.

Dolly. [Seated beside him.] Dad, please put away that paper. You're going over to Aldershot to-morrow to try to get Lucas exchanged?

Matt. Gibraltar—India—South Africa—according as an appointment happens to be vacant.

Dolly. Peters, pat up the hop-pillow for her, and insist on undressing her——

Dolly. Yes! [With a little laugh.] Ha! ha! [A louder gust and rattle of hail.] Listen! Listen! Ha! And he might have been here playing a comfortable rubber by the fire—if he'd simply behaved himself![61]

Matt. If he'd "simply behaved" himself! What we all miss through not "simply behaving" ourselves.

Dolly. [Laughs.] Ah! He's catching it! I shall insist on Renie driving out with me to-morrow afternoon.

Dolly. Then she can't meet Lucas. That will be another sell for him—[Another furious gust and rattle.] Listen! Ha! ha! I wonder how far Lucas has got!

Matt. [Goes to the conservatory door, looks in; is startled.] Hillo! hillo! What?!

Lucas. I didn't like the look of the weather! I didn't like the look of it at all! So I got them to give me a shake-down at the Red Lion——

Lucas. Yes, on their sofa! You needn't look so black! I asked you first, to let me have a shake-down here—on that sofa——

Lucas. Well, I must have dropped those cigars uncle Matt gave me. I put them carefully in my side pocket, and when I got down to the Red Lion, lo and behold, they weren't there!

Lucas. [Turns to Matt for sympathy.] I could have got a cigar at the Red Lion! [To Dolly.] No, thank you! So I thought I'd just stroll up here in the hope——

Dolly. In the hope of seeing Mrs. Sturgess! But she's safely in bed this time, and there's no possible chance of your seeing her.

Lucas. In the hope of getting Harry to give me a decent smoke. Well, I came into the Hall and not wishing to rile you by my hated presence—I slipped into the conservatory——

Harry. [Surprised at the riding-clothes.] Hillo, Lu, going back to Aldershot to-night?

Lucas. No, not unless the weather takes a turn. No, Dolly said that as the spare room was occupied, would I mind getting a shake-down at the Red Lion. So I did, and as I've got nothing to smoke, may I cadge a cigar?

Dolly. [Intercepting.] You said I should take charge of your cigars, in case you should be tempted to smoke more than two a day——

Harry. By Jove, I forgot all about two per diem—I've been smoking all day. Here, Lu! [About to throw cigar-case to Lucas.] You'd better take the lot and keep me out of temptation!

Peters. When I got back with the hop-pillow she wasn't there. I've looked all over the house, and I[63] can't find her anywhere. [Glancing off into the conservatory.] Oh, there she is!

Renie. My head was racking, I had to rush out—I've been pacing up and down under the veranda, up and down, up and down, up and down—[Dolly makes a little grimace of angry incredulity] it's a little easier now, so I'll take advantage of the lull, and try to get some sleep.

Renie. [With her weary smile.] Oh, it's only a headache. I can bear it. Thank you for your sympathy. [Wringing his hand in fervent gratitude.] Good-night, Mr. Barron.

Renie. [Very fervently.] I hope not, oh, I hope not! [To Lucas very casually and distantly.] Good-night, Captain Wentworth.

Lucas. Well, I'll be toddling back to the Red Lion. Good-night, Dolly. [Dolly looks at him, furious, turns away. Harry looks a little surprised.] Good-night, Harry.[64]

Harry. Good-night, Lu. Seems a pity for you to turn out on a night like this. Dolly, can't we give him a shake-down——?

Matt. [Comes up to him, in a low voice.] Cut it, my dear lad. Cut it! That's understood?

Lucas. Yes, of course. Well, good-night, Dolly, once more. [She doesn't reply.] Oh well, if you're going on the rampage—[Goes off muttering.] Infernal nuisance—night like this—— [Exit.

Prof. I ascribe the increased accuracy of my stroke at billiards to my increased nerve force, now I have made Pableine my staple article of diet in place of meat.

Harry. You can take them away, Criddle. In the[65] future we shall not require spirits at night, only soda water and tea.

Dolly. [Who has been sitting wearily on sofa, rises.] Well, I'm going to bed.

Dolly. What? [Harry taps the writing-desk.] Oh, my dear Harry, we won't go into them to-night.

Harry. Yes, my dear, if you please. [Very firmly. Dolly makes an impatient gesture and pouts.] Please don't look like that. If I'm to help you in paying off these bills, it must be to-night, or not at all.

Prof. Thank you. I'm afraid she's a little wilful. I can never get her to see that life can yield us no real satisfaction unless we regulate all our actions to the most minute point. Good-night.

Prof. [Has been waiting at door.] I might perhaps show you the precise way of mixing the Pableine.

Prof. Two teaspoonfuls. On certain occasions I have taken as much as four tablespoonfuls.

Matt. Sounds just the thing for a New Year's drink, to brace up good resolutions. Come along! I'll have a regular night-cap of it.

Harry. [Very solemnly and severely.] My darling, remember what Pilcher said about procrastination. And remember our resolutions last night. If we break them on the first night of the year, where shall we be on the thirty-first of December?

Harry. Conquer it! Think how delightful it will be to put your head on the pillow to-night, without a single anxiety, without a single thought——

Dolly. [Jumps up very briskly.] No time like the present! [Looking at him with great admiration.] Oh, Harry, what a dear, kind, good husband you've always been to me!

Dolly. When I think what patience you've had with me, and never reproached me——

Harry. Well, not often. We've had our little tiffs—That day at Goodwood—eh?

Dolly. [Has opened desk and taken up some bills—she looks round dubiously at Harry.] What a splendid thing it must be to be a husband and have it in your power to make your wife adore you, by simply paying a few bills.

Harry. Yes—bring them all. [She comes down with a bundle of about fifteen, hands them to him.] Is this all?

Dolly. So you shall, but we'll go through these first, because [lamely] if you want to ask any questions we can settle them on the spot, can't we?

Harry. [Reading from the bill.] Maison Récamier, Court and artistic millinery. By Jove! [Looks up.

Harry. Yedda straw hat, four guineas, ostrich feather ruffle, twelve pounds ten——

Dolly. That was the one—you remember—when I came into the room you said, "Stay there! Just as you are! I must kiss you!"

Harry. Yes, but twelve pounds ten—Moss green chip hat, four, fourteen, six. Heliotrope velvet toque—[68]—

Harry. Do I? Six guineas! Dear little toque! Hat in white Tegal with plumes of Nattier Bleu—fifteen guineas—Fifteen guineas?!

Dolly. Oh, the woman's a fearful swindler! But what are you to do with such people?

Harry. [With bill.] Total, sixty-four, seven, six. And I get my one silk topper a year, at a guinea, and three and six for doing it up. Total for me, one, four, six. Total for you——

Harry. [Takes another bill.] John Spearman, artistic gown maker, ball gowns, reception gowns, race gowns—Good heavens!

Harry. [Gently repulsing her.] No, I don't. [She puts her arms round his neck; he gently pushes her aside.] Business first, please. [Reads.] Gown of white cloth with Postillion coat of Rose du Barri silk, motifs of silver, forty-five guineas——

Dolly. You won't grumble at that, for when I first put it on, you stood and looked at me and said, "I want to know how it is, Doll, that the moment a dress gets on to your shoulders, it seems to brisk up, and be as cocky and proud of itself——"

Harry. [Again repulsing her.] Yes, well now I do know! Jolly proud and cocky your dresses ought to feel at this price! [Reads.] "Evening cloak of strawberry satin charmeuse, trimmed silk passementerie, motifs and fringed stoles of dull gold embroidery, thirty-five guineas." What's a motif?

Dolly. It's a trimming—a lot of little touches—a sort of—a—a—a—[making a little descriptive gesture] a suggestion—a motif——

Harry. And Mr. John Spearman's motif is that I should pay him five hundred and fifty-six pounds. Well, I don't like Mr. John Spearman's motifs, and I'm not going to fall in with them. [Puts the bill on the table rather angrily, takes up another, reads.] "Artistic lingerie!" I wonder why all these people call themselves artists! "Underwear of daintiness and distinction."

Harry. Yes. In future, I'm going to be very careful what articles of your dress I praise. "Three pairs of blue silk garters, forty-five shillings." [She has settled herself in the armchair, looking a little sulky and obstinate, leaning back and pettishly swinging one leg over the other.] What have you got to say to that?

Harry. Very well. Garters that can speak for themselves can pay for themselves! [Dashes the bill on the table, takes up another. Reading.] Three bottles cœur de Janette—three bottles Souffle de Marguerite—fifteen pounds for scent—and I have to smoke sixpenny cigars! And sometimes only fourpenny!

Dolly. Well, if you will smoke those horrid strong[70] things you can't wonder I have to disinfect the house for you.

Harry. Disinfect the house for me! You'll very soon disinfect the house of me! [Glances through the remaining bills, groans, puts them on the table, and walks about in despair. Dolly rises and is going off.] Where are you going?

Harry. [Stopping her.] No! Now we've begun, we'll go through to the bitter end, if you please. I want you to explain——

Dolly. My dear Harry, it will be quite useless for me to try to explain in your present state——

Harry. No, and if I am, isn't it enough to make a man shout when his wife——

Matt. Excuse my interrupting. But you know my room is just above this, and if you could manage to pitch your voices in rather a softer key——

Harry. By Jove, I'd forgotten! We were getting a little noisy. I'm awfully sorry.

Matt. Don't mention it! The Professor gave me rather a stiff go of his Pableine, and I fancy it hasn't agreed with me [tapping his chest] for I can't get a wink of sleep. Is there a spoonful of whiskey about?

Matt. Thankee. [Tapping his chest.] Harry, when you get over fifty, don't change your nightcap, or any of your other bad habits.

Matt. Montaigne says that the sweetest perfume a woman can have, is to have none at all. [Exit.

Harry. Now, my darling, we shall best arrive at an understanding if we avoid all temper, and discuss it in a calm, business-like way.

Harry. Very well then, bring up your chair, and let us go into it, figure by figure, item by item, and see how we stand.

Dolly. Ye-es. [Bringing a chair a little way.] Harry, you aren't going to be as business-like as all that?

Dolly. I can't discuss it while you keep me at a distance! [Suddenly rushes at him, seats herself on his knee, puts his arm round her waist, kisses him.] There! now I feel I can discuss it thoroughly.

Dolly. The man Mr. Pilcher had to get a money-box for, because he swore at his wife!

Harry. Well, there was no reason for that, especially as getting out of temper is the one thing I'm quite resolved to conquer this New Year—[72]—

Harry. [Kisses her.] Now, business, business! [Takes up a bill.] What have we here? Carchet, gantier et bonnetier, artiste—Hillo, here's another artist! In stockings this time. [Suddenly.] I say!

Harry. [Points to an item in bill.] Come now, Dolly—this is really too bad—this really is too bad!

Dolly. I can't go about the house without stockings. And I put them on for your especial benefit. [He utters a contemptuous exclamation.] They're a lovely quality——

Harry. I daresay. [Turning away.] I'm not going to admire your stockings, or your ostrich ruffles, or your blue silk garters, or your motifs, or anything that is yours! It's too expensive!

Dolly. [Dress an inch higher, looking down at her stockings.] It's the clocks you have to pay for——

Harry. I beg your pardon, it's the clocks I haven't got to pay for! And don't mean to—if I can help it. Idiotic thing to go and put clocks on stockings—[muttering] damned silly idiotic——

Dolly. Ah! [Goes to table, brings the hospital box and puts it in front of him.] Double fine this time.[73]

Harry. Oh well—[fumbling in his pocket] I did say d——, but I didn't get out of temper!

Harry. Not at all. I'm quite calm. [Sulkily puts a shilling in the box.] There! [Seats himself at table.] Now we'll go quietly and methodically through the remainder—— [Taking up a bill, looks at it, exclaims.] Good heavens!

Harry. [In a low exhausted tone with groans.] Good heavens! Good heavens! It's absolutely useless—Good heavens!

Harry. [Points to bill.] Four more hats! Nine on the other bill—four more here. Thirteen hats.

Dolly. Yes. You said yourself that Madame Récamier was horribly expensive, so I left her and went to Jacquelin's—just to save your pocket——

Harry. No, I daresay you won't, but I shall! I shall draw the strings very tightly in future. Save my pocket! [He is walking about distractedly.] Save my pocket. [Groans.

Dolly. Now, Harry, it's useless to take it in this way—you knew when you married me I hadn't got the money sense——

Dolly. Very likely not. But try and have a little now. What have I done? Run a little into debt, solely to please you.[74]

Dolly. After all, running into debt is a positive virtue beside the things that some wives do!

Dolly. A husband is very lucky when his wife spends most of her time running up a few bills. It keeps her out of mischief. I'm sure you ought to feel very glad that I'm a little extravagant!

Harry. I'm totting up to see how lucky I am! Forty-one, one, six—— [Groans.] Ninety-four—— [Groans.

Dolly. [Has crept up behind him, puts her arms round his neck.] Now, Harry, will you take my advice——?

Harry. [Disengaging her arms, speaking very sternly.] Will you have the goodness to let me have all your bills, so that I may know what help I shall need from my banker?

Harry. Will you have the goodness to do as I say, and at once, please? [He is dotting down figures. She stands still in the middle of the room.] Did you hear me?

Dolly. [Piteously.] Harry! Harry! [Goes up to him and plucks his sleeve.] Harry!

Dolly. And on the first night of the New Year, too! Just as we were going to be so happy! Harry! [Holds out her arms appealingly.] Harry! [Harry suddenly turns round and clasps her.] How could you be so unkind to me?

Harry. Was I? I didn't mean to be. Now! Dry your tears, and help me reckon this up——

Dolly. I can bear anything except your reproaches. Promise you won't reproach me.

Dolly. Oh, it isn't. Not at all. Not at all. [Goes up to the desk, brings down about ten more bills with great affected cheerfulness.] There! You see, it's nothing.

Harry. [Hastily looking at the totals.] Nothing? You call these nothing!!?[76]

Harry. Good heavens! How any woman with the least care for her husband, or her home—— [looking at one total after another] how any woman with the least self-respect—— [Dolly goes to him, puts her arms round him, tries to embrace—he repulses her.] No, please. I've had enough of that old dodge.

Harry. I remember that last two hundred pounds and how you sweedled me out of it!

Harry. No, but there's the thing! As most husbands know. [Referring to one bill after another, picking out items.] Lace coat, hand-made! En-tout-cas, studded cabochons of lapis lazuli—studded cabochons—studded cabochons!

Dolly. [Has quietly seated herself, and is looking at the ceiling.] Couldn't you manage to pitch your voice in rather a softer key?

Harry. [Comes angrily down to her, bills in hand, speaks in a whisper, very rapidly and fiercely.] Yes! And I say that a woman who goes and runs up bills like these, [dashing the back of one hand against the bills in the other] while her husband is smoking threepenny cigars, will very soon bring herself and him to one of those new palatial workhouses where, thank heaven, the cuisine and appointments are now organized with a view of providing persons of your tastes with every luxury at the ratepayers' expense. [Returns angrily to the bills, turns them over.] Irish lace bolero! [Turns to another.] Fur motor coat, fifty-five guineas——

Dolly. [Calmly gazing at the ceiling.] You told me to look as smart as Mrs. Colefield.[77]

Harry. Not at that price! If I'd known what that motor tour would cost by Jove! I'd——

Harry. He ought to be waked! He ought to know what his daughter is saddling me with.

Harry. Shabby! [Referring to bills.] Lace demi-toilette! Point de Venise lace Directoire coat! Shabby?

Dolly. My dear Harry, do you suppose we shall ever agree as to what constitutes shabbiness?

Dolly. Then suppose we drop the subject. For the future I shall endeavor to please you entirely.

Dolly. By dressing so that you'll be ashamed to be seen in the same street with me. I shall make myself a perfect fright—a perfect dowdy—a perfect draggletail!

Dolly. A great deal. That night at dinner she told you her dress allowance was a hundred and twenty a year, and you said you wished she'd give me a few lessons in economy. [78]

Harry. Pardon me, I did not. I said she might give some women a lesson in economy.

Dolly. You did not! I heard every word of your conversation, and you distinctly asked her to give me, your wife, a few lessons in economy.

Dolly. No, to-night! You've accused me of deliberately saying what isn't true, and I——

Dolly. Yes, you have. And I insist on having it cleared up to-night! I don't suppose he's asleep! Fetch him down!

Dolly. [Paces furiously up and down.] Me! Lessons in economy! Lessons in economy! Me! Lessons in economy!

Harry. He'll be down in a minute! Meantime, [very angry] I want to know what any woman in this world wants with two dozen cache corsets?

Dolly. The girl at the hotel at Folkestone, that Harry paid so much attention to.

Harry. I paid no more attention to Miss Smithson than was absolutely necessary. Did I, Mr. Barron?

Dolly. No, he was far too careful to let anyone notice it, except his own wife!

Harry. You lay your life when I do carry on my wife will be the last person I shall allow to notice it!

Matt. Yes. [Rousing himself a little.] Now, Harry, what about this Miss Smithson?

Matt. Come, Harry, let's clear this up. [Suddenly.] Smithson? Oh yes! The girl who sat on your left at your dinner party——

Dolly. You remember how she waited for a lull in the talk, and then she said with that silly, simpering, appealing look——

Dolly. She said with a very marked glance at me, "My dress allowance is a hundred and twenty a year, and I don't understand how any reasonable woman can wish for more!" What do you think of that?

Dolly. Nice? It was an insult! A direct, intentional, abominable insult, wasn't it?

Dolly. Yes! At least, if he couldn't resent it, he ought to have shown that he resented it. Instead of that, he actually asked her to give me a few lessons in economy!

Harry. And a thundering good thing if she had given you a few before you ran up these bills!

Matt. Come, Harry, you oughtn't to have asked another woman to give your wife lessons in economy.

Dolly. You don't remember?! Surely you can remember a simple thing like that when your own daughter tells you it was so!

Dolly. Then whom did he mean? Lessons in economy? Whom could he mean if he didn't mean me?

Harry. You said, "What on earth was up between her and Miss Smithson at dinner?"

Harry. No, by Jove, it proves that your father noticed what a confounded, cussed——

Harry. Not then! But, by Jove, if any decent chap were to come along now——

Dolly. [Exploding.] There! There! [To Matt.] And you sit there and hear my own husband insult me in my own house!

Harry. What? [Fiercely.] Do you remember exactly what passed between us in the smoking-room, Mr. Barron?[83]

Harry. [Following him up, shouting a little.] You said, "I know what she's like in her high gales! I remember what the little devil was like at home."

Matt. No—no, my darling—quite a mistake—quite a mistake—altogether a mistake.

Dolly. [Calls after Matt.] It's cowardly of you to leave me here to be insulted.

Harry. [Goes up to door, shouts.] It's not a mistake! You patted me on the back and said, "Poor chap! Poor chap!" You know you did! [Closes the door, comes fiercely down to Dolly.] It's not a mistake! He could see you had insulted Miss Smithson.

Dolly. I had not insulted her! I was far too civil to her, considering that the next evening you took her out on the Leas, when you ought to have been at billiards——

Dolly. Yes! You weren't in the billiard-room! So where were you? Where were you?

Harry. Then please hand them over to me this instant, so that I may take proceedings.

Harry. [Walking about furiously with the bills.] So this is the way the money goes! [Banging the bills.] While I have to smoke twopenny cigars! And can't get a decent dinner!

Dolly. Have Miss Smithson! Send for her to-morrow morning! I'll hand her over the keys!

Harry. [Shouting.] And please hand me over the rest of your bills! The rest of your bills, madam!

Dolly. [Flourishing the bills, strewing them on the floor.] Well there! And there! And there! And there! Now you've got the whole lot! And I hope you're satisfied. I'm going into Renie's room! [Exit.

Matt. [Listens, as their voices die away. When the voices have ceased, he surveys the scene.] We're making a splendid start for the New Year!

ACT IV.

Lucas. That's how I've missed them. My car broke down the other side of the clump, and so I walked over the fields.

Lucas. No, Criddle. Just serious enough to get me a couple of months' leave, so that I could spend the New Year in England.

Lucas. Same old visitors—same visitors, I should say. Mr. Pilcher still Vicar here, I suppose?

Criddle. Yes, sir. He gave us a wonderful sermon at the old year's service last night.[87]

Criddle. No, sir. Not exactly the same sermon, though it had similar points to last year. Ah! You came over for the old year's service last year?

Criddle. Very powerful and persuading, wasn't it, sir? It even touched me up a bit.

Criddle. I used to have my ten bob on any horse as I fancied, but I never put a farthing on anything—not even on Sulky Susan for the Oaks.

Criddle. No, and thank God, in a manner of speaking, that I didn't, for she never pulled it off. I owe that to Mr. Pilcher. No, I never touched a thing till the Leger. That reminds me——

Criddle. Why, last year, after Mr. Pilcher's sermon, the master had a collecting box, and when he found himself going a bit off the straight he used to put in a shilling or half-a-crown for Mr. Pilcher's blanket fund——

Lucas. Yes, of course! And Uncle Matt promised him a sovereign for each of us if we had carried out our good resolutions. Is that coming off, Criddle?

Criddle. I expect it is, sir. Mr. Pilcher is coming here this afternoon, and the master told me to be sure and find the box before he gets here.

Criddle. Nobody has seen anything of it for some months. Excuse me, sir, I must look for it.

Lucas. I'm not. I shall have to cut it back to India directly. Why didn't you answer my last letter?

Renie. What's the use? I told you last year we could never be anything to each other!

Matt. [Heard through the door which is open a few inches.] Have you found the box, Criddle?

Lucas. Infatuation? Well, I admired her, and perhaps it was lucky I was ordered out to India——

Matt. Sir John wanted a smart A.D.C., so I drove over to Aldershot, urged your claims, and got you the appointment.

Matt. Yes. When we got your wire yesterday saying you'd motor down to-day, Dolly had a long talk with her, and the result was she thanked Dolly and me for getting you out of the way and saving her from you.[90]

Matt. Yes, for twenty minutes. She kissed Dolly, and I think she would have kissed me, only I didn't feel myself quite worthy.

Matt. My dear boy, that's just what I am doing. Lucas, there's not going to be any repetition——

Lucas. I won't! [Listening.] Ah! [Dolly and Harry's voices heard in hall] Dolly and Harry!

Harry. Happy New Year! [Looking lovingly at Dolly.] By Jove, Doll, you can foot it. [To Lucas.] Doll and I have just raced up from the farm. She licked me! bless her!

Harry. [Looking at her lovingly and admiringly, kisses her heartily.] There aren't many things this little woman can't do.[91]

Lucas. Well, now my car has broken down, I was wondering if you'd put me up——

Criddle. [Displaying the box, having carefully dusted it.] There he is, sir, Hospital for Incurables! Nearly as good as new.

Criddle. In the wine-cellar, of all places! I was getting out a bottle of the sixty-eight port for New Year's night, and happening to put my hand behind, there he was!

Matt. What should incurables be doing in the wine-cellar? [Holds out his hand to Criddle for the box. Criddle, who has been holding it carefully, gives it to Matt. Exit Criddle. Matt gives the box a shake. It rattles as if half full of coins. He shakes it again, more violently; it rattles again.] Internal organs sound healthy. How did he get into the wine-cellar, Harry?

Harry. Well, Dolly and I had been having a little tiff one morning—nothing serious——

Harry. No, it wasn't that one—Well, never mind, I got so riled at Dolly always poking this box in front of me whenever I happened to—so I thought the wine-cellar would be the safest place for it.

Matt. [Gives it another rattle.] Well, here he is, turned up just at the right moment! And here you all are, Dolly, Harry, Lucas, Mrs. Sturgess—all[93] clamouring for me to redeem my promise and put in a sovereign for each of you.

Pilcher. Happy New Year to you all! Excuse me. [Depositing his parcels.] My New Year's gifts to a few of my parishioners!

Pilcher. To those who need them. [Shaking hands with her.] Happy New Year, Mr. Barron!

Pilcher. How do this morning, Telfer! [Harry nods.] My dear Mrs. Sturgess! [Shaking hands.

Matt. It was a bona fide bargain on my side, but if you wish to avoid any awkward little exposures, or[94] if Mr. Pilcher will kindly waive his claims to my contributions——

Pilcher. I'm afraid I can't. I have come here for the express purpose of bearing away my trophy—Ah! [Seeing box on table, takes it, gives it a shake; his features assume a pleasant smile.] It seems to have proved a very wholesome household regulator.

Harry. Yes, by Jove! It hadn't been in the house twenty-four hours before I put in a sovereign.

Harry. The first night of last year Dolly and I had a little tiff—nothing serious—and so the next morning I made it up and—didn't I, Dolly?——

Pilcher. And put in a sovereign? [Rattles the box again.] I won't say "Don't have any more household tiffs," but I will say "Don't omit to liquidate them." [Gives the box another rattle.] The box must have been in pretty constant use since——

Pilcher. [Has put down box.] How do you do? [Shaking hands.] Happy New Year!

Pilcher. Not at all. We were just about to settle the question Mr. Barron raised last New Year's day——

Prof. Oh, yes; I remember! Curiously enough I have only this morning received the proofs of my new volume, "Free Will, the Illusion."

Pilcher. Very interesting. I should like to discuss the matter with you, but [taking out watch] I have so many New Year's calls to make. [Looking at Matt.] Perhaps we ought to get on with the—a——

Prof. I may perhaps be allowed to point out that Mr. Barron's novel and humorous experiment can in no sense be said to settle, or even to touch, the question of Free Will, which as I have proved here depends upon—— [Again offering the proof.

Prof. You shall! I have put the whole argument into the concrete case of Sarah Mumford——

Prof. They hanged her. They then discovered extensive lesions and this yellow effusion——

Prof. My exact point! Where is the justice of punishing a woman whose gray matter functions perversely? It is nothing short of a crime.

Matt. How could she avoid suffocating babies if she had a yellow effusion in her brain?

Prof. The point I wish to establish is this. While we all allow that extensive or recognizable diseases of, or injuries to, the brain, free a man from responsibility and punishment, how can we logically mete out blame or praise, punishment or reward to our ordinary acts, thoughts, and impulses, seeing that all our acts, thoughts, and impulses, good or bad, virtuous or criminal, are equally the mere expressions of certain inevitable physical changes in the brain, the mere register on the dial plate of consciousness of necessary predetermined complications in the working of certain atoms of the gray matter of our cortex?

Matt. Quite so! Quite so! [Dolly is about to speak, but Matt hushes her down with a warning look and sign.] The Professor wants to say with Socrates that no man would be such a fool as to do wrong, if he could possibly help it.

Pilcher. And now perhaps we might proceed. Can you remember the exact terms, Mr. Barron?

Matt. I am to pay a sovereign for everyone of your hearers who has so far benefited by the wise admonitions of your last year's sermon as to have broken off his bad habits, or some especial bad habit——

Matt. I don't wish to be inquisitive, but if you don't mention the particular bad habit, you will have to give me your word of honor that you've conquered it. [Putting down proofs on table, taking up the money-box, giving it a shake.] Now, who will be first to step into the confessional? [Looking round.

Dolly. Well, you must have some bills—they grow up before you know—such as Doctors' bills—you can't settle them all on the spur of the moment, but I've nothing—nothing of importance. So please put in your sovereign for me, Dad, and look pleasant about it.

Matt. You declare upon your word of honor that you have broken off your bad habit of running up bills?

Pilcher. Mrs. Telfer has given her word. I think I may claim one victory for free will, [nodding victoriously at the Professor who shakes his head], and one sovereign for the Blanket Club.

Matt. Hum! [Draws a sovereign out of his pocket and very reluctantly drops it into the box, shakes his head at Dolly who looks a little uncomfortable.] Who volunteers next?

Renie. I do. No—I'll wait a little—I want to make[98] sure that I am perfectly honest with myself and with everybody.

Harry. Oh, well, here goes! I'm going to make a clean breast. The fact is I've made a thundering mess of it.

Harry. I did begin all right except for a little tiff with Dolly—and then I kept on pretty well for some time, and then—well I don't know—I seemed to go all to pieces and—[Matt rattles the money-box.] However, better luck this year.

Matt. Perhaps you tried too much reforming, Harry—too many irons in the fire, eh?

Harry. Well, it's jolly hard to keep it up. And I'd got pretty slack till you woke us up last night—I say, that was a rouser again.

Pilcher. It wasn't a very bad sermon, was it? Well now for the next year shall we make one especial effort in one especial direction—Say——

Matt. No victory for free will, and the Blanket Club, this time. Game and game, eh? Now which of you two——

Renie. I'll be your first victim. [Coming into the middle of the room, and posing.] It's so strange that what you started as a jest——

Renie. In this life who knows what is jest and what[99] is earnest? The least little innocent thing may turn to a tragedy in a moment——

Renie. No, last year a mere little circumstance might have turned to a tragedy—honestly I wasn't to blame, but perhaps I was a little careless, and two dear friends came to me with their counsel, and what might have been a tragedy was turned to a comedy, thanks to those two dear friends!

Prof. No, but I cannot recall anything in my wife's life during the last twelve months that even approached a tragedy——

Prof. Then I wish, my dear, you wouldn't magnify everything, and I wish you would read solid scientific works in place of rubbishy French novels—and above all, take a little more regular exercise!

Matt. Perhaps Mrs. Sturgess may consider that little point during the coming year. Meantime, [To Renie] may we be confident your little tragedy is ended——

Lucas. I don't know that I've conquered any one in particular, but I've had a regular good go in all round, so altogether I can pat myself on the back.

Matt. But I want to know one particular habit conquered—for instance, you weren't very careful what ladies you made love to, or how many of them at the same time——

Lucas. Thank you, no more thumbscrew. I'm out of this before it goes any further.

Matt. It isn't going any further. [Putting his hand on Lucas's shoulder.] Give me your word of honor——

Lucas. That's all very well, it wasn't a very bad case, and I don't think you should have brought it up. But as you have—well, I did meet a lady, and I was very much attracted to her, but I summoned all my resolution, and there the matter ended.

Matt. [Very seriously.] If you will give me your word of honor that you have absolutely broken off——

Pilcher. Three victories and one draw out of four. Most satisfactory. [Taking out watch.] I must hurry off to the White House and see what they're doing there. [Rattling the box.] Excellent results! So[101] excellent that I think I'm justified in making you a little New Year's gift.

Pilcher. [Opening his parcel.] To you and your husband. To your husband in particular, because, although he may have fallen a little short of perfection during the last year—like some of the rest of us—yet I feel sure that during this coming year—[They have all been watching him curiously; he has now opened the parcel and displays a very bright brand new collecting box, with Crookbury Blanket Club painted on it, in large letters. It is much larger than the hospital box.] My household regulator! [Giving it to Dolly.

Dolly. [Who has shown considerable disappointment on the opening of the parcel.] Crookbury Blanket Club! Thank you so much, for Harry's sake. Harry! For you, dear.

Pilcher. Yes—I have suggested it to several of my brethren. Oh, its use will become very general throughout the diocese.

Pilcher. It cannot fail. A box of this character—larger or smaller, according to the size of the family and their behaviour is left at each house on the first of the year. All little failings, peccadilloes, and asperities are strictly fined. The inevitable result is that either the family behaviour improves, or the parish charities benefit. I'm starting its operation in my parish to-day. Forgive any inexcusable rudeness in leaving the first box with you. I must hurry off! [Shaking hands.] Good-bye, Professor.[102]

Pilcher. When you have an hour, or shall I say a year, to spare, we might argue it out——

Prof. Renie, you've had your restless fits again. You'd better come with us——

Prof. My dear, this bracing country air is just what you need. Keep out in it all the day long——

Renie. Oh, very well—the White House, and the fish-pond as usual, I suppose?

Lucas. [Suspicious, holding back.] I don't know that I care—we went there last year——

Pilcher. [Has been gathering up his parcels.] Well, good-bye! Good-bye! [Rattles the hospital box vigorously.] Three splendid victories for free will and moral resolution!

Dolly. And only this morning you rowed me because I hadn't got it ready for the New Year! Where did you put their address?

Dolly. [Gently pushing him off.] I can just catch to-night's post! Make haste and get it! Quick! There's a dear! And then we can get the bath fixed up for you next week.

Renie. [Throws her arms round Dolly affectionately.] You've always been such a true friend to me——

Renie. As we were going out at the garden gate, Captain Wentworth held out a letter behind his back for me to take——

Renie. But now his arm is wounded he couldn't manage it properly, and he dropped it. I hurried to pick it up, and then my husband noticed and insisted on reading it——

Renie. It wasn't so very bad, but my husband has chosen to jump to a wrong conclusion, and—oh, Dolly, you can help me!

Renie. If you'd only let me tell my husband that I was receiving it for you——

Renie. There was no address, and fortunately it was so worded that it showed that you weren't really guilty.

Dolly. No! You can't suppose I should let my own cousin make love to me in my own house?!

Renie. I don't know. When I heard yesterday he was coming, I quite made up my mind I'd have nothing to say to him! Dolly, free will must be an illusion, or else why am I always doing the things I don't mean to do. Oh, what shall I do?

Dolly. As you are completely innocent, you'd better ask your husband to forgive you.

Renie. Ye—es. No! As it is a perfectly pure and exalted attachment I shall take that ground—at any rate at first, and see what he says. You'll help me all you can?

Prof. [Very angry.] Not a word more, if you please. Mrs. Telfer, you have doubtless heard——

Prof. I leave for London to-night-to consult my lawyer. Mrs. Sturgess will, I trust, return to her friends until——

Prof. What explanation can be offered of language like this. [Reading from letter.] "From the first moment I saw you, I felt that you were entirely different from any woman I have ever met——" A[106] monstrously inexact statement to start with. And a woman who is capable of practising such deceit——

Renie. [Through her tears.] What would be the use? With such a nature as his he could never begin to understand the loyal and exalted devotion which Captain Wentworth feels for me! No, all my life I have been misunderstood, misjudged, condemned! Let it be so till the end! Dolly, come and help me pack!

Prof. I am not severe. I simply register the inevitable sentence of the husband upon the wife who misconducts herself!

Dolly. Misconducts herself! She has merely had a little harmless flirtation——

Prof. In my wife a flirtation of this character [pointing to letter in his hand] constitutes grave misconduct.

Dolly. But that's perfectly ridiculous! Why it might happen to any woman! Dad, explain to him——

Matt. Professor, you're taking altogether a wrong view of this. Now this case you were pointing out to me in your own book [pointing to proofs]—Number forty-nine, Mrs. Copway. Remarkably handsome woman too!—[reading] "The injustice and cruelty of condemning this poor lady must be apparent to all." My dear Professor, before publishing this book you'll have to modify your theory.

Prof. I cannot modify my theory. I have spent ten years in collecting facts which prove it.[107]

Matt. Then, pardon me, you must really look over Mrs. Sturgess's little indiscretion.

Matt. But you say that her action in receiving my nephew's letter was entirely due to the activity of certain atoms in the gray matter of her brain.

Dolly. Very well then, if her gray matter keeps on working wrong, what's the use of blaming her? You say yourself there's no such thing as free will——

Prof. Precisely, but I have always allowed that in the present low moral and intellectual condition of the herd of mankind, free will is a plausible working hypothesis.

Dolly. But it doesn't work! Free will won't work at all! Look at my own case! Do you suppose I should go on all my life having bills if I could help myself? [Catching Matt's eye, who looks at her gravely and holds up his finger.] Never mind my bills! Do make him see how wrong and absurd it is to punish poor Renie when there's no such thing as free will!

Matt. Dolly's right! She's only saying what you have so admirably laid down here. My dear Professor, you cannot possibly publish this book!

Matt. You cannot. Read that. [Giving the Professor the book and pointing out passage.] Surely after that you cannot condemn Mrs. Sturgess.

Prof. [Taking book, glancing at the passage.] Really, it's most annoying when one's own wife upsets——

Dolly. Yes! Yes! Well, why not act on your own[108] first principles! You ought to be very sorry for poor Renie, considering all she has suffered.

Dolly. Yes, poor dear! You don't know what an awful struggle she has gone through between this unfortunate flirtation and her admiration for you.

Dolly. Yes. If I were you I should go upstairs, and be very sweet to her, and above all don't reproach her. We women can endure anything except reproaches——

Prof. [Looking at his proofs.] I must publish my book. And after all, as you say, it is useless to blame them for acting according to the——

Matt. The dictates of their gray matter when, bless them, they can't help themselves. My dear Professor, instead of condemning your wife you ought to be condoling with her, and doing all you can to get her gray matter into a healthy condition.

Dolly. No. Go straight to her and forgive her, and then I'm sure her gray matter will soon be all right. And what a triumph that will be for you!

Prof. It does offer a way out of the difficulty. In any case I must publish my book. [Exit.

Matt. [Shakes hands with him heartily.] Then I'll take it. Now be off as quickly as you can and let us make the best of it for you and her.

Dolly. No, Lu. If Renie gets out of this safely and if you behave yourself, I'll shake hands with you when you come back from India.

Lucas. You're taking this too seriously—you're taking it far too seriously! [Exit.

Dolly. Now that South Africans have gone up at last, and you won that splendid coup on them last week——

Dolly. You couldn't lend me—a few hundreds—till my allowance comes due? Just a few hundreds——

Matt. [In a low reproachful tone, shaking his head.] What? What? What? Sad! Sad! Sad!!

Harry. No. I'm going to keep a firm guard on it, but [very sternly] let me see those bills.

Dolly. [Creeps frightened up to the desk.] I'm sure you're going to lose your temper.

Harry. [Firmly.] No. I'm quite calm. Whose bill is that? [She hands him one timorously.] Fulks and Garner! Artist Furriers! More artists! [looks at total][111]—one hundred and twenty-four pounds. Well, I'm——

Harry. I should think I am Jobling. And you said you'd never enter their shop again!

Harry. [Reads.] Chinchilla toque, coat, muff and boa—eighty guineas—eighty guineas——

Dolly. You haven't seen it yet, it's just outside—I've a great mind to give you a great New Year's treat and let you see it on!

Matt. Hush! Harry! Let her put it on! Let's have a look at it, and see whether it's worth the money. Put it on, Doll. [Exit Dolly.

Harry. Sweedling is sweedling! It's part swindling and part wheedling! It's what every d—ee—d good-natured husband like me has to go through, when he's fool enough to put up with it!

Matt. Well, old boy, you'll have to pay, you know; it will come to that in the end.

Matt. And if Dolly has been a little extravagant, I must help her out with it to-morrow morning![112]

Matt. No, Harry, we won't. My room is just above here. Besides, the cook is going to give us a special New Year dinner, and I want to enjoy it. This New Year we'll start with a comfortable evening, please!

Dolly. Well? [He looks at it rather sulkily, walks away; she follows him.] Well? [Walking after him.] Well? Well?

Dolly. [Kissing him heartily.] And there! [Another kiss.] And there! [Another kiss.] And there! [Catches sight of the collecting box, goes to it, furiously sweeps it off its table on to the floor.] And there!

Transcriber's note

The following changes have been made to the text:

Page 7: "The Afternoon" changed to "The afternoon".

Page 12: "thirt-four, seven" changed to "thirty-four, seven".

Page 21: "no doubt each of has his own" changed to "no doubt each of you has his own".

Page 30: "had a plesant walk" changed to "had a pleasant walk".

Page 33: "to the time---- w" changed to "to the time----".

Page 50: "Doll." changed to " Dolly.".

Page 60: "Gibralter" changed to "Gibraltar".

Page 69: "speak for themselevs" changed to "speak for themselves".

Page 76: "least self-recpect" changed to "least self-respect".

Page 76: "now organgized" changed to "now organized".

Page 78: "down in a mniute" changed to "down in a minute".

Page 95: "extensive lessions" changed to "extensive lesions".

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The Project Gutenberg eBook of Dolly Reforming Herself: A Comedy in Four Acts

Transcriber's note

DOLLY
REFORMING
HERSELF

A Comedy in Four Acts

DOLLY REFORMING
HERSELF

A COMEDY IN FOUR ACTS

TO MISS ETHEL IRVING

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

Dolly Reforming Herself

ACT I.

ACT II.

ACT III.

ACT IV.

Transcriber's note

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE

The Project Gutenberg eBook of Dolly Reforming Herself: A Comedy in Four Acts

Transcriber's note

DOLLY REFORMING HERSELF

A Comedy in Four Acts

DOLLY REFORMING HERSELF A COMEDY IN FOUR ACTS

TO MISS ETHEL IRVING

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

Dolly Reforming Herself

ACT I.

ACT II.

ACT III.

ACT IV.

Transcriber's note

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE

DOLLY
REFORMING
HERSELF

DOLLY REFORMING
HERSELF

A COMEDY IN FOUR ACTS