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Jerome K. Jerome and Eden Phillpotts
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Title: The Prude's Progress
A Comedy in Three Acts
Author: Jerome K. Jerome
Eden Phillpotts
Release Date: December 6, 2014 [EBook #47559]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRUDE'S PROGRESS ***
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THE PRUDE'S PROGRESS
A Comedy
In Three Acts
By Jerome K. Jerome and Eden Phillpotts
London:
Chatto & Windus
1895
PERSONS IN THE PLAY.
Jack Medbury
Ted Morris.
Adam Cherry,
Theodore Travers
Ben Dixon L.C.C., M.V.A.
Footman.
Mrs. Wheedles
Nelly Morris.
Primrose Deane
Mrs. Ben Dixon
THE PRUDE'S PROGRESS.
THE FIRST ACT.
_The scene represents a room high up in a Bloomsbury lodging-house. It
is poorly, but not sordidly, furnished; and here and there are touches
of taste, and some attempt at comfort. Nelly Morris, a young girl,
dressed in a very old frock, the shabbiness of which she has attempted
to hide by various feminine devices, is discovered sitting L. of table.
A pile of medical books, topped by a skull, faces her. She is sitting
with her elbows on table, her head in her hands, looking up at, and
talking to, the skull._
NELLY MORRIS.
Did you ever know what it was to be poor-real poor I mean? Do you know
what Ted and I have got for dinner? Three sausages between us! That's
one and a half--no, two for him because he's working, and one for me.
And do you know what I am longing for more than anything else in the
world? A great plate of roast beef--heaps of beef--and Yorkshire
pudding and potatoes--large potatoes. (_Sniffs in the air._) Did
you ever feel like that? Did _you_ ever try studying for an exam, on
bread-and-butter for breakfast, bread-and-butter for dinner (when it
won't run to the sausages), and bread, without butter, for supper, like
poor Ted has to? Do you think he'll be able to learn enough on it to
pass? Do you? (_Breaking down._) Ah! you only grin at it all. 'Tis
funny, isn't it? (_Laughing hysterically._) I suppose we shall grin at
it all when we are as old as you.
(_The door at back opens, and Mrs. Wheedles, an old lady of the Mrs.
Gummidge type, enters. Nelly hastily wipes away her tears._)
MRS. WHEEDLES.
Oh! my dear, you gave me quite a turn. I made sure you'd got someone
here.
NELLY MORRIS.
Only old Tapley, Mrs. Wheedles. I talk to him about my worries and he
teaches me to laugh at them. Do you see how he's smiling? (_Takes skull
and shows its face to Mrs Wheedles._)
MRS. WHEEDLES.
(_Pushing it away._) Oh, my dear, don't. You make me feel quite creepy.
I do wish your brother wouldn't leave his bones about as he does. It's
really hardly decent.
NELLY MORRIS.
We'll put something over him. (_Takes the skull to mantelpiece and ties
pocket-handkerchief round it._) You are shocking the susceptibilities of
the British Matron, Mr. Tapley. You must be dressed.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
He doesn't look very well to-day, does he?
NELLY MORRIS.
What, Mr. Tapley? Oh, much the same as----
MRS. WHEEDLES.
Lor', no, my dear! how your mind does run on that nasty things I was
speaking of your brother.
NELLY MORRIS.
You don't think he's going to break down?
MRS. WHEEDLES.
Oh no, my dear--at least we'll hope for the best. He seemed a bit pale,
that's all.
(_Nelly takes books from the table and puts them away in case, and in
other ways tidies up the room while talking._)
NELLY MORRIS.
He's working so hard you see--so terribly hard. He'll be able to rest a
bit when he's passed his exam.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
Yes, of course--that is if he does pass it.
NELLY MORRIS.
Don't say "if," Mrs. Wheedles, please. You don't know what it means to
us. He must pass--he must. He's worked so hard.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
Ah, it's never those who know the most that do pass. I've had a few
medicos, as they call themselves, through my hands, and it's always the
ones that will never know the difference between croup and rheumatism
that get through.
NELLY MORRIS.
I'm afraid that doesn't promise very well for Ted.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
No, my dear, I am sorely afraid he won't pass--sorely afraid. But there,
you can never tell, and one should always look on the bright side of
things, they say. (_Beginning to cry._)
NELLY MORRIS.
You don't help one to do so very much, Mrs. Wheedles.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
I never like to see anyone too sanguine, my dear. He doesn't eat enough
to keep himself well, and you won't let me send a little bit of anything
up now and then.
NELLY MORRIS.
How can we, you kind old soul, when we owe you as much as we do already?
And Heaven knows how we shall ever be able to pay you if he doesn't
pass.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
Ah, you don't like to feel that you owe anything to a poor old
lodging-house keeper. I only wish all of them were as considerate. I'd
be better off than I am. But suppose, now, it didn't come out of my
pocket, but from someone who could well afford it--who--was rich--and
who----
NELLY MORRIS.
What do you mean, Mrs. Wheedles? Have you been telling anyone of our
poverty? Have you been asking for charity for us?
MRS. WHEEDLES.
Lord help the child, no! How you do flare up. I haven't said a word to
anyone. (_Aside._) That's the truth anyhow.
NELLY MORRIS.
Please forgive me. I didn't mean to be cross. I know how kindly you
meant it, but you don't understand. We're not so very poor, you know.
Ted can't work if he eats heavily, and----(_Turns away, choking a sob._)
MRS. WHEEDLES.
Ah, poor dears--and both as proud as lucifers, so that nobody can help
'em. Ah, well, my dear, I only just looked in to cheer you up a bit.
There's nothing I can do for you, I suppose?
NELLY MORRIS.
No, thank you, Mrs. Wheedles. I'll get you to let Martha boil me a few
potatoes later on.
(_Knock heard at door, which Mrs. Wheedles has left open._)
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Looking in_.) Can I come in?
MRS. WHEEDLES.
It's Mr. Cherry, my dear.
NELLY MORRIS.
Oh yes, come in, Mr. Cherry.
(_Enter Cherry. He is a dapper little man of about fifty-five, but
dresses, and tries to look younger. He carries a book in his hand which
he seems anxious to keep out of sight._)
ADAM CHERRY.
Ah, Mrs. Wheedles, you here?
ADAM CHERRY.
(_He looks from one to the other._) I suppose you've been cheering up
Miss Morris?
MRS. WHEEDLES.
(_Crying._) Yes, Mr. Cherry. I just looked in to comfort her a bit, you
know. I'm sure the poor child needs it.
ADAM CHERRY.
Ah, I'll tell you what it is, Mrs. Wheedles. Wheedles must have had a
damp time of it. I don't wonder at his leaving you.
NELLY MORRIS.
Oh, do you think it wise to start her on Wheedles?
MRS. WHEEDLES.
I don't expect anyone to, Mr. Cherry, I'm sure. He was a fine-looking
man, and there were those that lured him away. Not that I think it right
that a man who's once promised to----
ADAM CHERRY.
No, no! of course not! I didn't mean that. He was a villain, Mrs.
Wheedles--a villain. (_He bustles her, still crying, towards the door._)
MRS. WHEEDLES.
No, I won't say that.
ADAM CHERRY.
Oh, I would, Mrs. Wheedles, if I were you. Only I'd go downstairs where
I could have a good cry about it all to myself, and not come up again
till I felt better.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
Ah, no, Mr. Cherry, crying won't mend matters. We must grin and bear
things in this world. (_She is still crying._) You bring down those
potatoes whenever you're ready, dear. (_She goes off crying._)
NELLY MORRIS.
Thank you, Mrs. Wheedles.
ADAM CHERRY.
(_He closes the door and returns to Nelly._) That woman never wants to
go to the seaside, you know. She has a salt-water bath every day.
NELLY MORRIS.
Poor old soul. I think she gets all her enjoyment out of being
miserable.
ADAM CHERRY.
Yes, and you can't say she's selfish with it either. Oh, I just came up
to bring you this (_showing book in his hand_)--"Gray's Anatomy." I came
across it in turning over some old books of mine. It's--it's the book
your brother was saying he wanted, isn't it?
NELLY MORRIS.
(Smiling as she looks at the palpably new volume.) You keep your "old
books" nice and clean, Mr. Cherry.
ADAM CHERRY.
(_A little confused._) Yes. I--I'm very careful of my books.
NELLY MORRIS.
(_Opening and reading title-page._) Tenth edition, London, 1893. (_She
goes up to him, and without speakings gives him her hand very quietly.
He takes it in both his and pats it gently._)
ADAM CHERRY.
How is Ted?
NELLY MORRIS.
Very overworked, Mr. Cherry.
ADAM CHERRY.
Ah, well, the examination is only six weeks off now, and then he must
have a long rest.
NELLY MORRIS.
Yes, if he passes; if he doesn't, it means the old struggle all over
again, only with less heart and (_Aside_) less bread-and-butter.
ADAM CHERRY.
Ah, now, that old woman has been doing that. You mustn't _think_ about
his not passing. He's _bound_ to pass. I do wish she'd keep downstairs.
NELLY MORRIS.
Oh, it's better to be ready to face a thing, I suppose, than to be
crushed by it when it does come. There are plenty do fail, and they are
not always those that deserve to. And you see he's not strong and well
just now, and it is such a hard fight. (_Vehemently_) Oh, if I could
only do something to help him instead of being a drag upon him. It is
so hard. Other girls can earn money--I haven't been brought up to do
anything. There's nothing I can do--nothing, nothing.
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Earnestly_.) Nothing! (_Nelly, startled by his earnest tone, turns and
looks at him._) Suppose, my dear, there--there was something you could
do--which would enable somebody else to help him--something which
mightn't even be very unpleasant for you, either, and that only wanted a
kind, loving, little heart. Suppose, my dear, some old fellow--not
very old, you know, but just old enough to--to know your value, my
dear--should say to you: I love you very, very dearly, my dear--and it
would make me very, very happy to make you happy. Will you try to
love me, my dear? Will you give me the right to--to take away all this
trouble from you--to--to help you both. (_Nelly slowly crosses to fire,
and stands looking into it._) Don't you see, my dear I should be one of
the family, and he couldn't mind my helping him then. You see--I--I've
been working all my life, and making money, and now I've no one that I
care for to spend it on. It would be so pleasant for me to--to feel that
I was helping some brave, clever young fellow to get on in the world. It
would make me so proud and happy to be helping those you cared for--to
be taking care of you.
NELLY MORRIS.
(_She still looks into fire and Cherry stands waiting At length she
turns with a calm face and firm, closed lips._) Yes, I will be your
wife, Mr. Cherry--if you will be content with me as I am.
ADAM CHERRY.
My dear----
NELLY MORRIS.
You don't misunderstand me, do you Mr. Cherry? You have been the only
friend that we have had, and I like you and respect you very, very much,
but I do not----
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Checking her_.) Never mind that, my dear. I know what you are going to
say. But don't say it. That will come all right. Why, you've only known
me six months, and half that time as only as Mrs. Wheedles' first floor
lodger. I must win that, my dear. Oh, I'm going to begin to make love
now; I'm not so very old, you know. Why, bless you, I feel as if I were
just beginning life. We shall be as happy as can be, my dear. You'll
just try to love me a little, dear, that's all.
NELLY MORRIS.
I'll try to make you a good wife, Mr. Cherry.
ADAM CHERRY.
I know you will, my dear. I know you will. Won't you call me Adam, dear?
(_Seeing her trouble over this._) Ah, not just yet--never mind. It will
come in time, dear. And I may begin to make things a little smoother for
you--and--and for Ted at once, mayn't I?
NELLY MORRIS.
(_A little wearily_.) Yes, Mr. Cherry, thank you. You are very kind and
good.
ADAM CHERRY.
Tut, tut, my dear. I'm pleasing myself, that's all. And now you'd like
me to run away, I know, so that you can think it all over by yourself. I
can't tell you, my dear, how very happy you've made me. I--I never felt
like this before, and I don't know what to say. I can feel it, but I
can't tell it to you. May I----? (_She involuntarily shrinks away_.)
Ah, not yet, dear--not till you've learnt to love me a little more, eh?
(_Kisses her hand_.) Good-bye for a little while, my dear. (_He goes
out._)
NELLY MORRIS.
(_Left alone, she stands for awhile where he has left her, then, slouly
crossing to fire, she takes from round her neck a locket, and, opening
it, takes out a small picture and looks at it._) Poor Jack! Poor me!
(_She tears the miniature in two and lets the pieces fall into the fire.
Ted's voice is faintly heard, and Jack's in answer to it. Nelly goes out
L., closing door behind her and taking her work-box off table with her.
There is a moment's pause, and then door at back opens and Ted enters,
followed by Jack. They are both young fellows of three or four and
twenty. Both are poorly dressed, Ted is ill and worn looking, but gay
and boyish in his manner; Jack is an older and graver man. Both men are
smoking pipes._)
TED MORRIS.
Come in, old man. (_Calling_.) Are you in, Nelly?
NELLY MORRIS.
(_Calling from the inner room._) Yes, I'll be out in a minute, dear.
TED MORRIS.
Take your coat off, old man. You'll stop and have a bit of lunch?
JACK MEDBURY.
No, I won't, Ted, thanks--can't stop. Oughtn't to have come out at
all--clear morning like this.
TED MORRIS.
(_At cupboard._) Oh you can't be always at work. Have some whiskey?
JACK MEDBURY.
Well, just a----(_Sees that bottle in Ted's hand is empty._) No--no I
won't. Can't stand it in the morning.
TED MORRIS.
(_Much relieved, puts bottle away._) Perhaps you're right. Bad habit to
get into. How's the picture getting on?
JACK MEDBURY.
Which one? That churchyard thing?
TED MORRIS.
No, no,--the big one--the Enid and Geraint. Ought to make a very pretty
picture that, Jack.
JACK MEDBURY.
Yes--yes. I should like to be getting on with that. I want a face for
the Enid, you know.
TED MORRIS.
Yes, I should say she'd look all the better for one.
JACK MEDBURY.
I was wondering if Nelly would mind sitting for it.
TED MORRIS.
Nelly! But you want someone very beautiful for that, don't you?
JACK MEDBURY.
Well, and don't you call---- No, you wouldn't, of course. I expect Helen
of Troy's brothers never could understand what Paris saw in her.
TED MORRIS.
Oh, she's a dear little soul; but, seriously now, Jack, as an artist, is
she beautiful?
JACK MEDBURY.
Oh, you're a fool, Ted. I don't mean to be insulting. (_Laughs._) But
fancy your sitting opposite Nelly every day of your life, and then
asking somebody else "_If_ she's beautiful!"
TED MORRIS.
Um! I must have another look at her.
JACK MEDBURY.
Yes, I should--with your eyes open on this occasion. Look at her
closely, Ted. You'll see one of the fairest, noblest little women God
ever made--who'd just lay down her life for you--who keeps a bonny face
and a brave word for you--and a sore heart for herself sometimes. Look
at her a little oftener, old man--let her see that you understand and
love her for it and--you don't mind my coming the family friend over
you, do you, old fellow?
TED MORRIS.
Of course not, Jack. But you've worried me about Nelly.
JACK MEDBURY.
How?
TED MORRIS.
Why, it never occurred to me before, but here----
Beautiful as you say she is, and just growing up into womanhood, I'll
just tell you what will be happening before long.
JACK MEDBURY.
What?
TED MORRIS.
Why, we shall have some young idiot falling in love with her.
JACK MEDBURY.
Yes; it's not altogether impossible.
TED MORRIS.
It's not at all improbable--and what the deuce shall I do?
JACK MEDBURY.
Oh, you come and tell me. I'll show you what to do.
TED MORRIS.
It's no chaffing matter, Jack. It's a serious responsibility upon a
fellow when you come to think of it. I'm beginning to understand the
feelings of a "stern parent."
JACK MEDBURY.
What sort of a fellow do you fancy for a brother-in-law?
TED MORRIS.
(_Laughs._) What _she_ fancies will be more to the point, I expect. You
know she's a bit headstrong; I'll tell you _who_ it will be.
JACK MEDBURY.
(_Quickly._) Who?
TED MORRIS.
Why some poor devil without a penny to bless himself with. You bet your
bottom dollar on that.
JACK MEDBURY.
And what do you intend saying to this impecunious suitor when he does
turn up?
TED MORRIS.
I must think it over seriously, and be prepared for him.
JACK MEDBURY.
Better think it over now.
TED MORRIS.
Why?
JACK MEDBURY.
He may be down on you sooner than you expect. The truth is there's a
very impecunious young man very much in love with your sister already,
and I--I rather fancy she--she doesn't mind it.
TED MORRIS.
Oh! impossible.
JACK MEDBURY.
I don't quite see why.
TED MORRIS.
Why, she hasn't seen anybody for the last eighteen months. We never go
out, and there hasn't been a soul here--except yourself.
JACK MEDBURY.
And which do you consider as "impossible"--my falling in love with her,
or her not objecting to it?
TED MORRIS.
You? You and Nelly in love with each other? How long has it all been
going on?
JACK MEDBURY.
Well, as far as I am concerned I don't think I lost much time since you
first brought me here last Christmas twelve-month.
TED MORRIS.
Funny I've never noticed anything.
JACK MEDBURY.
Well, I don't really think it's been our fault, old man--'pon my soul,
I don't.
TED MORRIS.
Are you engaged?
JACK MEDBURY.
No, no, we shouldn't have done that without saying anything to you, but
I think we understand one another.
TED MORRIS.
Hum! I don't seem much good at this duenna business.
JACK MEDBURY.
It's not your strong point, Ted. (_Both men laugh._) Well, what do you
think, old fellow? I ought to have spoken to you before, of course. But
somehow it seemed odd talking to another fellow about it. You know all
about me. We are both a couple of poor devils. You're fighting the world
with bones and bottles; I'm tackling it with a paint-brush. If I get
licked, of course I shall clear out, but I shall daub a good deal better
if I fancy I see Nelly waiting for me behind the canvas, and I may win.
Come, you know I'll try to be good to her. What do you say?
TED MORRIS.
That it's the grandest bit of news I've heard, Jack, for many a long
month.
JACK MEDBURY.
You don't mind?
I mind a good deal, old man--I can't tell you how much--I'm
glad--awfully glad. (_He puts both hands on Jack's shoulders._)
Why, Jack, I feel as if I'd got a new heart in me. We'll put Nelly
between us, old man, and face the world together--and, damn it all,
we'll win!
JACK MEDBURY.
Brothers!
TED MORRIS.
Brothers!
JACK MEDBURY.
Thanks, old fellow, thanks.
TED MORRIS.
TED MORRIS.
Jack! This demands a drink of some sort. Have you ever tackled
methylated spirit?
JACK MEDBURY.
No, I've heard of people drinking it. They say you can't tell it from
gin.
TED MORRIS.
Let's try it. It's the very best methylated, this brand.
(_He goes up to cupboard and brings it down in two glasses. Jack at
the same time gets water from window-sill, and brings it and fills
glasses._) Shoulder to shoulder, old man.
JACK MEDBURY.
And our Nelly.
(_A knock is heard at door. Both men pause and listen. Knock is
repeated. They put their glasses down on table._)
TED MORRIS.
Come in.
(_Theodore Travers enters. He is a man about twenty-five, but looks any
age. He is well-dressed, well-groomed._)
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Good morning. Mr. Edward Morris, I believe?
TED MORRIS.
I--I don't think I have the pleasure of knowing you.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Not hitherto. I have come on purpose to remove that reproach from you.
I believe you have the distinction of being a cousin of mine. My name is
Travers--Theodore Travers.
JACK MEDBURY.
What, _the_ Theodore Travers? The author?
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Well I know of no other. I rather think one of us is sufficient for
this sized world. (_Turns aside and writes covertly on his cuff._) Books
everywhere--microscope--smokes briar--shaves at intervals.
TED MORRIS.
Well, I'm very glad to see you, and I'm very glad to learn you're my
cousin, though I don't quite understand how.
THEODORE. TRAVERS.
(_Sitting_.) Don't you? Oh, it's simple enough. My mother having
accomplished the exceedingly satisfactory life's work of introducing
me into the world, dies, poor lady. My father, feeling the sole
responsibility of bringing up so extraordinary an infant as myself too
much for him, marries a charming lady of whom I have always very much
approved, a Miss Belinda Greggs, better known as Mdlle. Silvia, the
beauteous and world-renowned skipping-rope artiste. This lady, upon the
death of my father, marries your uncle. Thus Art becomes the golden link
connecting the Morris to the Travers family. (_About to drink from one
of the glasses._) Gin?
TED MORRIS.
No; an experiment. I don't fancy you'd care for it. (_Takes glasses away
and puts them back in cupboard._) O yes, I recollect now. Mrs. Ben Dixon
_was_ a Mrs. Travers, of course. (_Noticing that Theo is again writing
on his cuff._) Your cuff is getting rather full, isn't it? Don't you
carry a note-book?
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Yes, but you know some people object to it, so I generally make short
memoranda on my cuff and copy them out afterwards.
TED MORRIS.
Very considerate of you, I'm sure. But don't you trouble about it in
this case. If you can make anything out of us you go ahead. It's more
than we can do ourselves.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
(_Takes out note-book_,) Well now, that's really very kind of you. I
will. To tell you the truth, that's partly why I came here. I'm giving
the medical students a turn in my next book, and I wanted to get
material. (_Writing._) Hard up, of course? (_Ted nods._) Loud tie.
(_Sniffs._) Shag! (_Turns to Jack._) Friend an artist? Also hard up?
Coloured shirt!
JACK MEDBURY.
They last clean so much longer than the white ones.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Quite so--blunt and careless. Gentleman on mantelpiece seems to be
suffering from toothache.
TED MORRIS.
(_Laughs._) Oh, that's Nelly's nonsense, I suppose. This is Mr. Tapley.
We call him Mr. Tapley because he is always so jolly.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
(_Shutting book._) Thanks. Now that will be really useful to me. You
see I'm a realist. We don't imagine, we study; the world's my scenery,
mankind my characters. I write as I run.
JACK MEDBURY.
Do you ever get your head punched?
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Did once.
TED MORRIS.
What did you do?
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Made a note of the experience while it was fresh in my mind, and then
hit him back.
JACK MEDBURY.
You don't waste your experiences?
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Never. Experience is the cypher that explains the universe. I've been
everything, done everything, made a note of everything, and understand
everything. I've fought in Russia and made love in Spain, edited a
newspaper in Calcutta, and ran a company in New York. Been imprisoned
in Japan, and married in Egypt. I've studied mankind from the Equator to
the Pole and I flatter myself I know the poor thing inside and out.
TED MORRIS.
You're rather young to know so much. Aren't you afraid of overdoing it,
and injuring yourself?
THEODORE TRAVERS.
My dear fellow, I never was young. Age is a question of senses, not of
seasons. I was born pretty much as you see me now. I told my first lie
before most children can lisp the truth. I posed before most children
can stand. I drank brandy at an age when most children lick sherbet, and
made love while my co-temporaries were making mudpies.
JACK MEDBURY.
I wonder you care to stop on any longer in this world.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Duty, my dear fellow. I'm wanted down here. The age requires me. Great
men are scarce.
TED MORRIS.
And modest--I always thought.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
A popular delusion. They pretend to be. In reality they all think of
themselves exactly as I think of myself; I am setting them an example of
naturalness and candour.
TED MORRIS.
(_Laughs._) You certainly can't be accused of the "pride that apes
humility." Well, and how are my respected aunt and uncle?
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Mr. and Mrs. Ben Dixon? Oh, they are getting on very well now. I've gone
to live with them.
TED MORRIS.
Awfully good of you. How do you get on with the old man?
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Ben Dixon? Well, I like him. He amuses me.
TED MORRIS.
Is he still in the philanthropic line?
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Yes, doing a bigger business than ever. I'm afraid he won't live long.
They'll be wanting him for an angel when the next vacancy occurs. He is
a County Councillor already. By-the-bye, he landed you pretty heavily,
didn't he?
TED MORRIS.
Oh, that was my fault. I let him invest all our money in some cast-iron
affair that was going to pay a hundred per cent. He had influence with
the Directors, and got them to let us into it--as a favour.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Um! and a very pretty little "let in" it was. Well, it's all experience,
my dear boy--all.
(_Enter Nelly. Theodore rises._)
TED MORRIS.
This is my sister.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
I envy you, my dear boy. How do you do, Miss Morris? I'm Theodore
Travers, your cousin, you know.
NELLY MORRIS.
Oh, yes, I remember. How did you manage to find us?
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Oh, the step-mater's been on your track ever since you disappeared.
She'll be here in a minute.
TED MORRIS.
(_Aghast._) Mrs. Ben Dixon coming here!
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Yes, and he's coming too. I ought to have told you before, only I've
been so taken up with your interesting conversation.
TED MORRIS.
(_Aside, savagely._) Why the deuce can't they wait till they're asked?
THEODORE TRAVERS.
And if you would permit me, as a practical stage-manager, I would
suggest a rearrangement of the props. (_Looking round room._) Let me
see. Step-mater will take the centre of the stage, of course; she always
does, from force of habit.
NELLY MORRIS.
(_Putting flimsy chair R. of table, and smiling._) There!
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Yes, that's the place, but it's not the chair. (_Shaking and testing
it._)
JACK MEDBURY.
(_Bringing a big one over from window._) This one?
THEODORE TRAVERS.
That's more the thing, and then, let me see, the old man--he won't
sit anywhere, he'll stand in front of the fire and try to look like a
stained-glass window; and then the girl----
TED MORRIS.
What girl!
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Oh, a _protégée_ of the step-mater's--a dear little thing--suggests
roses and old Chippendale. (_Takes chair to window_.) She can sit over
here near me. (_At window, he looks out._) Ah, there's the carriage
going away now. They are here evidently--all on the stairs in different
degrees of exhaustion.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
(_Without._) Well, we can't go any higher; it must be this. (_Door
opens, and in bustles breezily Mrs. Ben Dixon. She is a kindly,
blunt, slightly vulgar woman of about forty. Her style in dress is
pronounced._) Yes. Here they are, both of them. The young villains! Oh,
you bad boy! Oh, you bad girl! I'll never forgive you, neither of you.
Come and kiss me. (_She embraces Nelly._)
(_She is followed in by Mr. Ben Dixon and Primrose Deane. Mr. Ben Dixon
is an unctuous, plausible, smiling old humbug. He is dressed with the
nicest regard to ostentatious respectability. Primrose is a sweet,
childish girl._)
MR. BEN DIXON.
So we have run you to earth at last, you young rogues. (_He kisses Nelly
and introduces her to Primrose._)
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Run them to earth! Run them to air you mean. (_Referring to Tea's
proffered hand._) Lord help the boy, I don't want that. I want a kiss.
What's the good of being an aunt if you can't kiss your good-looking
young nephews? (_Embraces him._) Oh, I am cross with you. I'm going to
tell you both what I think of you as soon as I get my breath back.
NELLY MORRIS.
Don't be angry, aunt. We were only waiting for Ted to pass.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Pass what? The Bankruptcy Court?
NELLY MORRIS.
No; his final examination. He's nearly a full-blown surgeon.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
What! Ted going in for doctoring!
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_Standing before the fire._) A noble and useful profession! Also, I
believe, exceedingly remunerative.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
And one which atones for its folly in assisting people into the world by
its efficacy in assisting them out of it again.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Oh, do you be quiet, Theo; I got you to go on in front on purpose that
you should have a quiet twenty minutes' talk all to yourself, and so
give us a chance when we came.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
All right, mater--all right, if you think this is your scene, I'll talk
aside up stage Right. There's not room for the two of us I know.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
(_To Nelly._) Wonderful boy that, if only he wouldn't fancy that God
Almighty made the universe just to hear what he would say about it.
(_Nelly laughs._)
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Oh, I think it must be so beautiful to be a doctor, and to help people
in pain and sickness. I should so like to be a nurse.
TED MORRIS.
I'm sure you'd make a very sweet and helpful one.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Well, I must say they are very becoming, those bonnets. I thought of it
myself when I was a girl. It was a toss up at one time between that and
the skipping-rope.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Ahem--my dear.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Well, everybody here knows all about it--except this young man--I----
(_Looking at Jack._)
TED MORRIS.
My chum, Jack Medbury--an artist, aunt.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
An artiste? I--I'm glad to meet you, young man. What's your line?
JACK MEDBURY.
Oh--oh, I paint, you know,
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Oh, that! Ah, well, they're all good of their kind. And now when are you
young folks coming down to see me? Some country air in your lungs,
and some good food in your stomachs won't do either of you any harm, I
should say from the look of you.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Yes, you must come down to us. Come and spend a--an afternoon.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
An afternoon! Bless the man, I want them for a month.
TED MORRIS.
It's awfully good of you, aunt, but the exam's in six weeks. I daren't
leave my work.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Well, bring it with you, can't you?
TED MORRIS.
No, aunt. You see it isn't only studying. I must attend the hospital. I
want practice.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Practice! Well, there's all the village for you to practice on. Why
it will be just what they'll love. Medicine given away gratis and no
questions asked.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Oh, you must come. I insist upon it, and you know you really owe me
something, you young people, for all the terrible anxiety your money
affairs have caused me.
TED MORRIS.
Oh, I'm sorry they've done that.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Ah, my dear Edward, I can never tell you the agony of mind the loss of
that £4,000 has given me.
TED MORRIS.
Yes, it annoyed us a bit.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Ah, yes, that was natural. It was _your_ money. But it was no business
of mine at all, and yet, ah, how I've suffered.
NELLY MORRIS.
Ah, well, you meant for the best, uncle. Don't fret about it.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
We must make it up to them you know, Ben. We must look after them a bit
and help them.
MR. BEN DIXON.
I'm sure I shall always feel it my duty to give them the very best
advice in my power.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Yes, and I guess we'll supplement that by something a little more
useful. Don't you fear about that, young folks.
TED MORRIS.
It's very good of you, aunt. I know you mean kindly
--both of you, but----(_Puts his arm round Nelly,_)
Nelly and I have fought the worst of this fight by ourselves, and--
we'll win it or lose it alone.
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_He shakes Ted by the hand_.) A noble resolution. You are a brave boy.
I admire you for it. (_Aside_.) I hope he'll stick to it.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Ah, you're your father's boy, Ted--both of you--but while you're
sticking up for your independence don't you forget my rights. I _am_
your aunt. I loved your poor dead mother, and I've a right to love
her two headstrong young brats, and I'm going to do it. (_There is the
slightest suggestion of tears in her voice by this time._)
NELLY MORRIS.
I'm sure we both want you to, aunt. Ted didn't mean that, he didn't. Did
you, Ted?
MRS. BEN DIXON.
All the same to me, my dear, if he did. I can be as obstinate as he can.
Your Aunt Bella's going to be your friend, and you can just lump it or
like it--both of you.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Still you know, my dear, an independent spirit is a beautiful trait in
anyone. I really don't think we ought to do anything to undermine it.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Ah, your solicitors didn't talk like that to mine, Ben, when our
marriage settlements were being discussed.
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_To Ted_.) Ah, that's the worst of women. They will always drag in the
personal element.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Now come, Ted. Don't you be an unkind nephew to your old aunt just
because she's got no chicks of her own and wants to love you.
TED MORRIS.
You're a dear good soul, aunt. Let me come down for a day or two
and bring my books with me--and if ever I do want help from
anyone--why--why, you know I should rather take it from you than from
anybody else.
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_Aside, disgusted_.) I thought he wouldn't stick to it.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Ah, well, come, that's a bit more sensible. Mind you come as soon as you
can, and stop as long as you can, and as for any bit of help, lad,
to start you, why you could make that up to a couple of broken-down
invalids like Ben and me in less than a year, what with physic and
stuff.
TED MORRIS.
(_Laughs._) I shall be sorry for my practice if my patients all look
like you, aunt.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Ah, that's like you all. I get no sympathy. (_Glances round to Jack,
and then draws Ted aside._) Ted, that artist chum of yours looks as if a
change would do him good. Do you think he'd like to come?
TED MORRIS.
I--(_puts his arm round Nelly_)--I think he'd like to be where Nelly
was.
(_Nelly, with an alarmed, troubled look, slips out of the room almost
unnoticed_).
MRS. BEN DIXON.
No!
TED MORRIS.
Yes; another good-looking young nephew for you to kiss, aunt.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Don't you be impudent! That's the worst of it, when we poor women allow
you young men any liberties, you get so saucy over it. Are they engaged?
TED MORRIS.
Not yet--not formally, you know, but----
MRS. BEN DIXON.
(_Nods_.) So much the better. We'll have him down, and then I can judge
him for myself. Mr. Medbury.
JACK MEDBURY.
Yes? (_He comes to her._)
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Will you come down and spend a week at our place in the country? Ted and
Nelly will be coming. Come with them.
JACK MEDBURY.
Oh--Oh, thanks. I shall be delighted.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
That's right. I shall expect you. Do you do portraits?
I try to.
JACK MEDBURY.
TED MORRIS.
It's his leading line, aunt.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Good. Bring your props with you, and paint me a portrait of Nelly. Will
you?
JACK MORRIS.
With the greatest pleasure imaginable. It will be a labour of love.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Oh no, it won't. It will be a fifty pound job, or I shan't have it. Is
it a bargain?
JACK MEDBURY.
(_Laughs_). Very well. I won't beat you down. You shall have your own
terms, and--thank you very much.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Not at all. It will be very cheap at the price, I know. (_Crosses L. to
Ben Dixon._) Well, I've asked them all down, Ben.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Yes, I thought you would, my dear. I hope they've all accepted.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Oh yes, they're all coming.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Oh, that _is_ nice. Are you ready to go now, dear, or do you think there
might be anybody else about the place you'd like to----
(_Cherry knocks at door. Ted goes up and opens it_.)
ADAM CHERRY.
May I---- Oh, oh! I beg pardon. I didn't know you had anyone here.
I------ (_He is about to retire._)
TED MORRIS.
Come on in, Mr. Cherry, come on in--the more the merrier. We've got a
regular reception on. Aunt, let me introduce you to----
MRS. BEN DIXON.
(_She and Cherry, the moment they see each other, stand aghast._)
Don't tell me it's Adam Cherry!
ADAM CHERRY.
It isn't--it isn't Sylvia!
MR. BEN DIXON.
Certainly not. You are quite right, my dear sir, it is _not_. That lady
is buried.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Not yet, Ben. Don't you get anticipating history to that extent.
MR. BEN DIXON.
I mean, my dear, that she is sunk in Mrs. Ben Dixon.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Yes, it is a bit of a come down. (_Mr. Ben Dixon, crestfallen, retires
to the fire._) Well, I _am_ glad to see you. Why, you don't seem to have
altered a day. Bless the man, you look quite young. (_Cherry chuckles
and plumes himself. She puts up her glass and examines him_). Until one
looks into you a bit. (_He coughs drily_). Well, and what have you been
doing with yourself all these years?
ADAM CHERRY.
Oh, I gave up the stage, you know, when I came into my aunt's money.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Um! Well, I think it was a good thing for both of you. You never were
much good at it, you know, Adam.
ADAM CHERRY.
Ah, perhaps not--perhaps not.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
You never had the legs for it. It's no good saying----
ADAM CHERRY.
Legs are not everything.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
No, but they make a good foundation. Lord, I shall never forget the
first night of that burlesque when you played Apollo to my Terps. You
wore three pairs of tights, one over the other, and the underneath ones
worked up into rucks. (_Cherry laughs uncomfortably._) And the gallery
told you to go home and get yourself ironed. (_Laughs._)
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_Aside to Theodore._) Now we shall have reminiscences of all your
step-mother's early life.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Ah, well, it might be worse, Ben. It might be your own.
ADAM CHERRY.
I heard of your second marriage.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Ah, yes; bad news travels fast, they say.
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Looking over at Ben Dixon._) But, you know, somehow or other, I
pictured such a different sort of man.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Yes, so did I. (_Leaning over and speaking confidentially._) An
inordinate craving for respectability has been the ruin of me. Don't you
ever give way to it. (_Cherry looks puzzled._) You see, Travers----
ADAM CHERRY.
Your first?
MRS. BEN DIXON.
My _première_. He was a bit wild, and when he died, poor man, and left
me with a pot of money, I said to myself, "Now, Belinda Travers, _nee_
Greggs, you've lived long enough in Bohemia. We'll just go in now for
respectability; none of your mere Kensington or Hampstead sort, but
the downright solid stuff." And so I just set to work to look for
respectability, and (_with a motion towards Ben Dixon_) I found that!
(_Looks across at him. He is standing in a beautiful attitude, beaming,
his hands folded together, talking to Nelly._) That's not a respectable
man. That's potted respectability. They must have boiled down a church
to make that. I never thought that there was so much respectability in
the world. _I'd_ never come across so much before, all at one time.
ADAM CHERRY.
And how do you like it?
MRS. BEN DIXON.
I don't like it. There's too much of it for me. I ought to have begun
with small doses. My system can't stand it. I live in an atmosphere
of respectability, and it's killing me. I never go anywhere that isn't
respectable. I never do anything that isn't respectable. Until this
blessed moment I haven't set eyes on anyone who isn't respectable.
ADAM CHERRY.
It must be very monotonous.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Monotonous! It's suffocating! (_Suddenly_.) Cherry, you always were a
good sort. You said you loved me once.
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Alarmed_) It was a long time ago, Belinda.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
I know it--fifteen years, if it's a day--but you can't have ceased to
care for me altogether. Come and help me now. I'm going to the good man
as fast as ever I can. For old love's sake come and hold me back a bit.
Come down and spend a week with me. Come down and let me talk to you
about the days when you and I and the rest of the crowd used to have
sheep's-head suppers sent round from the local tripe-shop, and sit up
till four o'clock in the morning, playing penny nap.
ADAM CHERRY.
Ah, they were jolly times, those, after all. Do you remember your first
cigar?
MRS. BEN DIXON.
That's it--that's it! That's the sort of thing I _want_ to remember.
That's the sort of thing I want to talk to you about. Will you come?
ADAM CHERRY.
Why, of course I will. Shall enjoy it. Where are you, and when shall----
(_Knock heard at door_).
TED MORRIS.
(_Who has been talking to Primrose._) Come in.
(_Enter a waiter carrying a tray on which are two champagne bottles and
some glasses._)
WAITER.
(_At door._) Meester Sherry?
TED MORRIS.
Yes, he's here--but this is not his room.
ADAM CHERRY.
Oh, it's all right, my dear Ted. (_To waiter_.) Yes, yes, put them down.
I'll explain--I'll explain.
WAITER.
(_Putting down tray on table._) Shall I open zem, zir?
ADAM CHERRY.
Yes. And have you a few more glasses, Ted? I--I didn't know your friends
would be here. They are all friends, aren't they?
TED MORRIS.
Some of them--the others are relations.
ADAM CHERRY.
Ah, yes, that will be all right then. All the better--all the better.
Where's Nelly?
TED MORRIS.
Nelly? Oh----
MR. BEN DIXON.
Oh, she's just gone to fetch an atlas. I'm explaining a mission route to
her. She'll be back in an instant.
ADAM CHERRY.
Ah! (_Aside to Ted._) Has--has she told you anything?
TED MORRIS.
What about?
ADAM CHERRY.
(_With a chuckle._) Ah, evidently not. Never mind, never mind. (_Waves
Ted away. Ted goes to cupboard to get glasses. The first cork goes
"pop."_)
JACK MEDBURY.
(_Who has been talking to Theodore_.) What's up? Another birthday?
TED MORRIS.
Mr. Cherry has a birthday about once a month, and we help him to
celebrate it.
ADAM CHERRY.
No, no; now you are exaggerating, my dear boy. The last occasion was
the anniversary of my poor aunt's death. (_The second bottle pops._) You
know I told you so.
JACK MED BURY.
We had a very jolly dinner over it.
(_The waiter goes out._)
ADAM CHERRY.
But this--this, my dear Ted, is to celebrate something very much more
important than--than anything we have celebrated before.
JACK MEDBURY.
More important than birth or death?
ADAM CHERRY.
Very much. Ladies and gentlemen, my dear friends, all of you, I want--I
want you to drink to a--to a wedding.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
A wedding! What! Not your own?
ADAM CHERRY.
Why not, Bella? Why not?
TED MORRIS.
What, Cherry going to get married?
JACK MEDBURY.
Good luck to you, my boy. Good luck to you. Quite right. (_He says this
heartily and goes on laughing and talking to Theodore_.)
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Who's the bride?
ADAM CHERRY.
The--the niece, Mrs. Ben Dixon, of a--of a most charming aunt. The
sister of a brave, clever young friend of mine--the sweetest lady in the
land--Miss Nelly Morris.
(_Nelly has re-entered and stands L. near door. Jack gives a
half-suppressed cry of "Nell!" and a start. No one notices this but
Theodore, but he notices it very clearly._)
TED MORRIS.
Nelly! Is this true, Nelly?
NELLY MORRIS.
(_She crosses and stands by Cherry. She is deadly pale and quiet._)
Quite true. (_As she says this she gives one look over to Jack and
then turns away. Jack looks at her and the glass in his hand trembles.
Theodore notices all these things. He looks from Jack to Nelly, then
back to Jack. Then he covertly takes a pencil from his pocket, draws his
cuff down and writes._)
ADAM CHERRY.
(_After a rather awkward pause._) It's--it's a bit of a surprise for you
all.
MR. BEN DIXON.
A very pleasant one, Mr. Cherry. I am delighted--delighted. (_Aside._)
He'll take them both off our hands now-- really quite providential.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_Coming forward and taking Nelly's hands._) I do so hope you will be
happy, dear. You often hear of these sort of things turning out quite
well, and--and----
NELLY MORRIS.
(_Smiling and kissing her._) Thank you, dear.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Very interesting; quite worth the stairs.
MRS. KEN DIXON.
(_Aside to him._) I believe you'd make notes at your dearest friend's
death-bed!
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Why not? It couldn't hurt him, and might amuse other people. Well, may
all the joys of the world be yours, young people. Bless you both. (_He
drinks_.)
MRS. BEN DIXON.
(_Rising_.) May the Lord help you both. Ben, if you're ready, we'll go.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Quite ready, my dear.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
(_To Nelly_.) Good-bye, my dear. (_Kisses her_.) You and I must have a
long chat when you come down. Goodbye, Ted. This is what comes of
your hiding yourself to starve away from your old aunt. Good-bye, Mr.
Medbury. Good-bye, Cherry. Go on, Prim. (_Primrose goes out_) I want
to get out of this and have a think. It's old fools and young fools all
making fools of themselves together here. (_She goes out_.)
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_To Cherry_.) We are both charmed, my dear sir, charmed. I shall feel
now that there is someone to look after them, and see that they never
want for anything. I can't tell you what a relief it is to me. Good-bye,
good-bye. (_He follows out._)
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Well, good-bye, good-bye all. I'll look you up again soon. Shall be
interested to know how you all get on. (_He goes out_.)
ADAM CHERRY.
(_To Nelly._) You didn't mind my telling it, did you, dear? It had to
come out sooner or later of course. You--you're not vexed?
NELLY MORRIS.
No, Mr. Ch--Adam. Of course not.
ADAM CHERRY.
I felt as if I could not believe it myself till everybody else knew it.
(_To Jack._) Jack you haven't congratulated me.
JACK MEDBURY.
You have every reason to be congratulated, Mr. Cherry, I'm sure. (_Aside
to Nelly._) I understand, Nell. Don't worry about me. It will make me
paint all the better. (_Aside to Ted as he goes out._) Try and forget
all that nonsense I talked to you, Ted. It's better as it is. Poor
devils like you and I have no business to indulge in such luxuries as
love, and I shall---- Goodbye, old fellow. (_Grips Ted's hand and goes
out._)
ADAM CHERRY.
And now, my dear Ted, that we are alone----
TED MORRIS.
I would rather be still more alone, Mr. Cherry, if you don't mind.
Forgive me, but I want to talk to Nelly about this thing. It's rather
taken me by surprise.
ADAM CHERRY.
Certainly, my dear boy. Certainly--very natural. I'll go. You and Nelly
will come down and dine with me this evening, won't you, and we'll have
a talk then.
TED MORRIS.
Thank you. I'll let you know.
ADAM CHERRY.
Ah yes. Do; do. (_To Nelly._) _Au revoir_, my dear. Good-bye, Ted.
Good-bye. (_Goes out_.)
TED MORRIS.
(_He closes the door, and then returns. Nelly has gone to mantelpiece.
He comes to her, and, putting his hands on her shoulders, speaks very
gently_.) You've done this for me, little woman, but it must not be,
dear. Do you think that if I wouldn't ask dear old Aunt Bella for help
that I'd take it for this price?
NELLY MORRIS.
One has a right to take what one has paid for. The price has been given.
TED MORRIS.
No, dear, only promised--by someone who did not know the value of what
she was offering. You must let me cancel the bargain, Nell. It was a bad
one to make--in _every_ sense of the word.
NELLY MORRIS.
Perhaps. But bad bargains have to be kept when made, as well as good
ones. Don't let us talk about it any more, dear. The thing's done now.
It cannot be undone.
TED MORRIS.
Yes it can, Nell, and _must_. It makes it a little awkward, his having
announced it in that ridiculous theatrical way, but when I tell him
everything. When I tell him that you love dear old Jack----
NELLY MORRIS.
But you never will do that, Ted--for my sake--for all our sakes.
TED MORRIS.
You must get out of it somehow, Nell.
NELLY MORRIS.
I cannot. I do not wish to. I have pledged my word, and I'll keep it.
Come, it isn't so very terrible (_with a smile_). I'm not the first
girl, dear, who's had to say good bye to an impracticable little
romance, and take the sober reality offered her by an elderly gentleman.
He _is_ a gentleman, Ted, and he's very fond of me I know, and I shall
try and make him a good wife. (_Puts her hands on Ted's shoulders_.)
It's a grey old world, brother. We must be content with grey lives.
TED MORRIS.
Nell, Nell, I won't have it. You are sacrificing yourself--you are
sacrificing Jack--and all for me. I won't let you do it. Let me go down
and see Cherry now, and end the matter at once. (_Breaking away from
her_)
NELLY MORRIS.
(_Staying him_) Please don't, Ted. You are only making it harder for me.
TED MORRIS.
Nelly, what an obstinate little thing you are. (_With a gesture of
impatience_) Do look at the thing reasonably. You've made a rash
promise, that the next moment you regret.
NELLY MORRIS.
I do _not_ regret it. (_Ted stares at her._) Listen to me. Ted. When
Adam Cherry asked me to marry him to let him make our lives smooth, I
thought of you.
TED MORRIS.
I know. That's----
NELLY MORRIS.
(_Checking him._) And of myself. (_A pause._) I'm tired of this life,
Ted. I'm tired of living in an attic. I'm tired of being ashamed to go
out into the streets until it's dark because of my clothes. I'm tired of
feeling hungry. It's such a vulgar feeling. We have no one to help us.
You talk about aunt. You know that man has all her money, and he's not
likely to let us have any of it--even if we cared to take it. As for
Jack--poor boy--what could he give me? What could I bring him but the
same weary sordid struggle? (_She puts her arms about him._) Don't be
shocked at me, old boy. I used to have plenty of sentiment, as you know,
but somehow it doesn't thrive on ten shillings a week. (_She moves away
a few steps. Then pausings turns to him, stretching out her arms to
him._) Are you very angry with me, Ted?
TED MORRIS.
(_He does not turn to her, but goes to the window and stands looking
out_)
No, dear. Only a little disappointed.
(_Nelly stands thus for a moment, then takes the empty glasses from the
table and crosses with them towards the cupboard._)
_Curtain_.
THE SECOND ACT.
_A large sunny drawing-room, handsomely and somewhat showily furnished,
opening on garden. Adam Cherry and Mr. Ben Dixon are sitting talking._
MR. BEN DIXON.
You see, my dear sir, this is not an ordinary worldly speculation. We
are promoting this company--myself and a few Christian friends--not
merely to earn an income for our shareholders--though that we shall do,
Mr. Cherry, that we shall do--but also to benefit humanity at large.
Think, Mr. Cherry, what a grand thing it will be to be helping the good
cause--to be doing good among one's fellow-creatures--and at a profit,
Mr. Cherry--at a very handsome profit--that's the beauty of the scheme.
Mr. Cherry, as a man not altogether inexperienced in these matters, I
say that never--never before has such an opportunity been presented to
the investing public of combining the earthly comfort of a certain 15
per cent, dividend with the ennobling--I say the ennobling--satisfaction
of furthering the cause of Heaven.
ADAM CHERRY.
Well, to be perfectly frank with you, Mr. Ben Dixon, I am thinking more
of the earthly than of the heavenly part of it. I hope I try to do my
bit of good in the world, but I never mix the two things up. When I
invest my money, what I think about is the return.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Quite right, Mr. Cherry, quite right. We--myself and the other
directors--are, perhaps, a little too etherial in these matters. We need
among us such a man as yourself, Mr. Cherry--you will join our hoard,
Mr. Cherry? You will give us the benefit of your experience-- of your
grasp of business?
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Pleased_.) Well, if you really think I could be of any help----
MR. BEN DIXON.
Think it! My dear sir, you are the very man we want. I think, Mr.
Cherry--I think you suggested put-ting £8,000 into the affair?
ADAM CHERRY.
Yes, Mr. Ben Dixon. It is a big sum for me. In fact--in fact, it
represents nearly all my savings. But the scheme seems a very safe one.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Mr. Cherry do you think that I would allow you to put your money in this
thing if I did not know that it was safe? How can we fail! We have
the Lord Mayor. (_Confidentially._) I am even in hopes of having the
Archbishop of Canterbury. Besides, look at the scheme itself. We buy
up and amalgamate all the leading manufactories of temperance drinks
throughout the kingdom. My dear sir, do you know the amount that is
spent every year in this country on lemonade and ginger-beer alone?
ADAM CHERRY.
Oh, I am quite with you, Mr. Ben Dixon. The business ought to be a good
one.
MR. BEN DIXON.
It _is_ a good one. It shall be a better one. Mr. Cherry, in a few
years' time we shall not be earning our 15 per cent., no, nor our 30
per cent., but our 100 per cent., and you shall be with us. Here, Mr.
Cherry, is an application form. (_He has put it all ready_.) I will make
it a personal matter that the full number of shares shall be allotted to
you.
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Who has risen, comes to desk. Ben Dixon puts a pen into his hand. He
hesitates._) They--they do say one should not put all one's eggs into
one basket.
MR. BEN DIXON.
It depends upon the basket I suppose. I should say it would be better
to put them all into one sound basket than in half-a-dozen risky ones.
(_Laughs._)
ADAM CHERRY.
Yes, that's quite right--quite right. You see I do want a big dividend.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Of course you do--we all do--I mean it is very natural for _you_ to do
so.
ADAM CHERRY.
Of course, before it did not matter. But now, Mr. Ben Dixon--now that
I'm going to be married I wish if possible to be able to retire from
business altogether, and that, of course, with my small capital I could
not do unless--
MR. PEN DIXON.
(_Stopping him_.) Mr. Cherry, I will be frank with you. You speak of the
very matter that has been in my mind. If you had come to us two or three
months ago, and had asked for these shares I should have said "No." I
should have said to my brother directors: This is a safe and brilliant
scheme, let us keep it to ourselves. Why should we admit this man among
us? Let him be content with his two and a half Goschens, his three per
cent, debentures. But now, Mr. Cherry, I think of Nelly--my dear little
Nelly--and I say, "Come." Come and share with us. That is the line for
signature, Mr. Cherry.
ADAM CHERRY.
I have every confidence, Mr. Ben Dixon, both in you and the scheme.
(_Signs_). Adam Cherry.
MR. PEN DIXON.
(_Blots paper and takes it up and examines it._) Let me see. The full
amount is payable on allotment. Shall we telegraph your brokers at the
same time?
ADAM CHERRY.
Oh yes--perhaps that will be the simplest way (_takes form which Ben
Dixon hands to him, and writes._) Yes, I'll do so.
MR. BEN DIXON.
It doesn't matter, you know--doesn't matter at all. I will make myself
responsible for the amount if it's any convenience to you, Mr. Cherry.
ADAM CHERRY.
May just as well settle the matter now and have done with it. (_Finishes
telegram._) That will fix it all right I think.
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_He has folded up the application and has placed it in one of the
stamped directed envelopes he has ready. He now crosses and takes
telegram and looks at it_.) Ah, one can always tell the man of business,
Mr. Cherry--one can always tell the man of business. (_Ben Dixon has
previously rung, and now a footman enters._) Take this letter to the
post at once, and send this telegram off at the same time. Don't stop
for anything.
FOOTMAN.
Yes, sir. (_Goes out_.)
ADAM CHERRY.
Well, you don't want me any more I suppose, Mr. Ben Dixon? I think I'll
take a stroll in your pleasant garden.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Do, Mr. Cherry, do. (_Glances out of window. Then turns and shakes his
finger playfully at Adam Cherry._) Ah, you rogue--you rogue. I think I
see what makes that garden so particularly pleasant just at this moment
--Eh?
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Chuckling_.) Well, I----
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_Pushes him towards windows._) Run along to her,
Mr. Cherry. Run along, I don't believe you are a day older than
five-and-twenty.
ADAM CHERRY.
A little--little--I'm afraid.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Don't believe it. I don't believe it. (_Cherry goes out, laughing. Ben
Dixon watches him out, and then turns round again. He says nothing, but
his face expresses his huge satisfaction._)
(_Enter Theodore Travers._)
MR. BEN DIXON.
Ah, my dear boy, so you've come down to see the old folks again--come
back to the old nest.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Well, you've done it, Ben.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Done what?
THEODORE TRAVERS.
You are famous at last. You've beaten me. I'm not in it with you this
week.
MR. BEN DIXON.
I have for some time enjoyed a certain reputation, I believe.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Among the few that really knew you, yes. Spreading; that's the awkward
part of it.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Wh--what do you mean? (_Beginning to grow anxious._)
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Have you seen _The Illustrated Police News_ this week?
MR. BEN DIXON.
My dear Theodore, you know I do not countenance such publications.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Um! You've countenanced it this time right enough. (_Takes "Illustrated
Police News" from his pocket, and, opening it, holds it up._) "The
Councillor and the Strong Woman. Amusing Scene at the Aquarium."
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_Aghast._) Oh, my----
THEODORE TRAVERS.
(_Fixing paper in front of fable_.) It's such an excellent likeness of
you, too. I've had friends of mine in this thing before, but it's never
been a bit like 'em. This is a genuine portrait of you. No one could
mistake it.
MR. BEN DIXON.
My dear Theodore, I can explain--I can explain everything.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
You generally can. The question is, step-father, will anybody believe
you?
MR. BEN DIXON.
Let me tell you the truth.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Don't you waste time, Ben, I know it. You set to work and invent a
plausible lie before the mater finds out about it.
MR. BEN DIXON.
No, no, my dear boy. You must hear me. It--it was this way. It was the
last day we were in town. I started to go to Exeter Hall.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Yes--many do.
MR. BEN DIXON
But passing the Aquarium, it--it occurred to me----
THEODORE TRAVERS.
That it was a much more attractive place.
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_Virtuously._) No, Theo--that it was my duty as a member of the
National Vigilance Society to look in and see if--if----
THEODORE TRAVERS.
If something could not be found out against it.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Precisely. I stopped the cab and went in. I mingled with the godless
throng. I even sacrificed myself so far as to speak to one or two of
them.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Ladies?
MR. BEN DIXON.
They _may_ have been. I stood them drinks--if that be the correct
expression. Not to excite suspicion, I even sipped a little here and
there myself. I endeavoured to acquire the spirit of the place.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
From all accounts, you did so to a pretty considerable extent.
MR. BEN DIXON.
It was necessary to my purpose. I went from bar to bar accumulating
material. The case was almost complete. Thinking I had had enough--done
enough for one evening, I was about to leave when somebody--who said he
was a friend of mine--suggested that we should go "behind the scenes."
He introduced me to a not unprepossessing young woman, whom he described
as the "Female Hercules." I was on the point of putting a few questions
to her, when all of a sudden a strange feeling of dizziness came over
me. To save myself from falling, I flung out my arms--as any man might
have done--and caught hold of the thing nearest to me. Unfortunately, it
was the Hercules lady. Mistaking my action, she took me up, and, before
I could explain matters, carried me out, and deposited me in the main
transept.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
(_He again takes up the paper._) The artist represents her as assisting
you by the scruff of the neck, and other things.
MR. BEN DIXON.
It may have been so. I was too much upset to notice details.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
And then the Aquarium attendants completed the business by chucking you
out into the street.
MR. BEN DIXON.
I deny it. I was not chucked. 'They perceived that I was unwell, and led
me out into the air.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Where my excellent friend, the door-keeper at the Hanoverian, found you
putting pennies into a life boat box and trying to get out cigarettes.
Ben, that explanation's too thin. I expected something better from you.
MR. BEN DIXON.
You--you don't think it will do?
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Afraid not.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Perhaps you are right, Theo. The world is ever prone to think evil.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Yes; you see it's had a good deal of experience, Ben.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Dear me, it's a very awkward affair--very awkward. Does it mention the
name?
THEODORE TRAVERS.
No. Merely refers to you as "a certain guardian of the public morals."
(_Looking at the picture again._) Hardly any need to put the name in
this case. It would be an insult to the artist.
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_Looking over his shoulder_.) It _is_ like me. I can see that myself.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
They've even got your smile.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Don't gloat, my boy; don't gloat over it.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
I won't. It _is_ hard lines on you. (_Throws paper down on easy-chair._)
What will you do?
MR. BEN DIXON.
I don't know. I must think. I wonder if your stepmother's seen it?
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Some friend of yours will send it to her, you bet.
MR. BEN DIX N.
It may not be noticed. You see, fortunately, it is not a paper that
circulates much in religious circles.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Not as a rule. This week will probably be an exception.
MR. BEN DIXON.
I wish you wouldn't harp so on the gloomy side of it, Theo. We will put
our trust in Providence.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
I should. I've noticed that it's generally on the side of the rogues.
(_Strolls towards window._) Don't let the thing lie about. Where's the
mater? (_Ben Dixon does not answer_.) In the garden?
MR. BEN DIXON.
Yes--no. I don't know--I don't know where she is.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Poor old Ben! (_Goes out into garden._)
MR. BEN DIXON.
If this gets about I'm done for. What can I do? If it only weren't such
a good likeness, or if there was only another member of the Vigilance
Society something like me I might put it on to him.
(_Mrs. Ben Dixon has entered. She has sat down, without noticing it, on
the paper in arm-chair_.)
I do hope Belinda won't---- (_Turns round and sees Mrs. Ben Dixon_.)
MRS. BEN DIXON.
I want a business chat with you, Ben.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Where's that paper? (_Looks frantically about for the paper_.)
MRS. BEN DIXON.
What's the matter? Lost anything?
MR. BEN DIXON.
No, oh no, my dear, nothing at all. (Aside.) Did he take it with him--or
is she sitting on it?
MRS. BEN DIXON.
I want something settled about Ted and Nelly.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Certainly, my dear, certainly. Won't you sit over here, my dear? That
chair looks so uncomfortable.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
The chair's all right. It's you who seem to be uncomfortable. (_Looks
round and sees him leaning over the back of the chair looking down into
it_.) What is it? Am I sitting on anything? (_About to rise_.)
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_Rather alarmed._) No, my dear, nothing whatever. Don't you rise. It's
all right. You were speaking about those dear children, Ted and Nelly?
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Difficult to remember what one is talking about with you pirouetting
all over the place like a pantomime fairy. I wanted to talk to you about
what we could do for them.
They are going back to-morrow morning, and---- (_He peers under the
table for the paper._) I'll tell you what it is, Ben, you are doing too
much work on that Vigilance Association. It's sapping your brain. Do
give the world a rest. Let it go wrong for a bit if it wants to.
MR. BEN DIXON.
I wish I could, my dear. I worry myself too much about others, I know.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Yes, and I expect that's what the others think too. This is a case where
you can trouble yourself about other folks to some advantage--to _them_.
We must do something for those children, Ben. It was your fault they
lost their money. We must see that they get some thing back again.
MR. BEN DIXON.
But, you see, my dear, they are both so proud. To offer them help would
only be to wound them. We should never, Belinda, do anything to wound
the susceptibilities of others.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
(_Growing irritable._) I shall do something that will wound yours, Ben,
in a minute, if you've got any. There are more ways of offering people
help than by slapping them in the face with it. If the thing's done in
the right spirit they won't refuse it. I'll see to that.
MR. BEN DIXON.
But, my dear, why should we interfere at all? Dear Mr. Cherry is only
too anxious to help them. Why should we deprive that worthy man of
the exquisite pleasure of assisting them? My dear, we have no right to
--it's his first call--I mean his privilege----
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Ben, you're either a fool or you're pretending to be one. What do you
think induced that girl to accept him?
MR. BEN DIXON.
The usual thing, I suppose, my dear. Love that comes to----
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Fiddlesticks! Girls of nineteen don't marry men of fifty-five for love.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Forty-three, my dear. He told me so himself.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Forty-three, _and_ the rest. _I'm_ not a chicken, and he wore his own
beard when he played Macbeth to my child's head. He's fifty-five if he's
a day, and she's accepted him because they were both starving--small
blame to her for it. What we've got to do is to lift them out of this
poverty and give them a start, and then there'll be no need for the poor
girl to sacrifice herself.
MR. BEN DIXON.
But think of Mr. Cherry.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Oh, Cherry's an old fool, as good and kind a one as ever lived--that's
better than some of them are--but an old fool all the same. Now come,
Ben, I'm going to do my duty by poor dead Hetty's bairns, and you've got
to help me. If they were cannibals or converted acrobats with no claim
upon you whatever, you'd be eager enough to.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Precisely so, my dear. That is just it. You see, a public philanthropist
has no right to indulge in private charities. He is meant for all alike.
He embraces mankind. I embrace mankind. You find me two hundred poor
medical students with their sisters, needing assistance, and I shall
be delighted to receive subscriptions on their behalf. (_Aside_.) Oh, he
must have taken it with him.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
I don't doubt it. In this case, you're going to _give_ something to
_one_ poor medical student. The other 199 you can find for yourself.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Belinda, I cannot. It grieves me, but I cannot depart from my
principles. Charity should be like the sun----
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Yours _is_, Ben. We hear a good deal about it, but don't often see it.
We won't argue the matter. My mind's made up. I want £4,000.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Then I'm very much afraid, my dear, you will have to do what a great
many other people who want money have to do.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Do you mean, Ben, that you won't let me have it?
MR. BEN DIXON.
I mean, my dear, I cannot.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
What have you done--blued the lot?
MR. BEN DIXON.
Belinda, your vulgar expressions pain me. There is no need to be
violent. Your own little fortune is undoubtedly somewhat involved, but
so long as I have a crust----
MRS. BEN DIXON.
I don't want your crusts. I want to know what you've done with all my
money. There was a tidy bit of it, and you've had the entire control of
it--more fool me. What have you done with it?
MR. BEN DIXON.
I manipulated it, my dear, to the best of my poor ability.
Unfortunately, Heaven has not----
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Oh! drop that. I'm tired of your Heaven. It's enough to set anyone
against the place always hearing of it in your company. Let's understand
the thing plainly. Haven't I got a penny of my own?
MR. BEN DIXON.
Well, I wouldn't go so far as to say that, my dear, but----
MRS. BEN DIXON.
But not much more, I expect. Oh, you villain! _You_
old---- (_He has been standing in one of his customary stained-glass
attitudes close to door. Mrs. Ben Dixon with her last sentence rises as
if to come to him. In an instant he slips through door, and closes it
behind him softly._)
MRS. BEN DIXON.
It serves me right. It serves me right. (_Enter Primrose from window_.)
Oh, my dear child, don't you ever marry. It's only your money they want
to get hold of.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Oh, I'm _sure_ he doesn't.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
_He!_ Lord help the child, you haven't done it already, have you?
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_Confused_.) Oh no--no--I--I meant----
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Don't trust him. Don't trust any of 'em. Have it all settled on
yourself, and keep your own eye on it. Oh, to think what a fool I've
been!
(_Nelly has entered, followed by Cherry._)
NELLY MORRIS.
What's the matter, aunt? You're worried about something?
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Worried! I'm not worried. I'm mad!
NELLY MORRIS.
What's wrong, aunt?
MRS. BEN DIXON.
What's wrong! Ask what's right! That's the shortest question to answer.
Oh, my dear child, your uncle's a villain, and I'm a born idiot, and
everything's going wrong for everybody, and I can't help anybody.
(_Leans on Nelly's shoulder and begins to half cry._)
NELLY MORRIS.
What is it, auntie, dear?
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Don't ask me, my dear. Don't anybody ask me anything. I can't tell you.
Oh that Belinda Greggs could ever develop into such a first prize fool!
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_She has been sitting on arm of easy-chair, and has taken up the
paper_) Oh, here's a portrait of Mr. Ben Dixon.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
(_Glances round and sees a paper in Primrose's hand_) What in? _The
Young Man's Christian Herald_, I suppose, under the heading of "Shining
Lights"?
PRIMROSE DEANE.
No--no, it's (_reading_) _The Illustrated Police News_.
The what?
MRS. BEN DIXON.
NELLY MORRIS.
Oh, impossible, Primrose, you must----
(_Takes the paper and suddenly becomes silent_)
MRS. BEN DIXON.
(_Snatches it from Nelly, looks at it, then crosses over to Cherry_)
Cherry, what do you make of this?
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Takes paper and reads_) "The Councillor and the Strong Woman."
The--the gentleman is certainly very much like him.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
The whole thing is like him.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_To Nelly_.) Do you think it _is_ Mr. Ben Dixon?
NELLY MORRIS.
I can't say. I didn't look at it very closely. Come upstairs, dear, and
show me your new hat, will you?
(_The two girls go off talking._)
ADAM CHERRY.
It can't be, you know.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
But there he is. What does it say about it?
ADAM CHERRY.
"The Councillor at the Aquarium. A shameful spectacle (see illustration)
was witnessed by our artist at the Aquarium on Monday evening last. A
certain guardian of the public morals, well known as a philanthropist,
and a member of the Vigilance Society----"
MRS. BEN DIXON
That's Ben right enough. There can't be two of 'em. Go on.
ADAM CHERRY
"Appears to have thought fit to visit this place of entertainment on
the evening in question. Not content with insulting various respectable
people among the audience, he proceeded, in company with his degraded
companions, to force his way behind the scenes. There, meeting Mdlle.
Bruno, the Female Hercules, and pretending to recognise her as his
long-lost cousin, he immediately threw his arms around the lady's neck,
and endeavoured to kiss her. Fortunately, Mdlle. Bruno is a lady well
able to protect herself. Taking the villain up by the collar of his
coat and the------ (_Sinks his voice._) she promptly carried him out and
handed him over to the Aquarium officials, who finally rid the building
of his presence by the simple but effective process known as chucking.
We trust that----"
MRS. BEN DIXON.
That will do. That's enough. I wonder if I'm going to find out anything
more about him to-day?
ADAM CHERRY.
It's impossible. There's been a mistake.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
There has been, and I'm the poor ninny that's made it.
ADAM CHERRY.
If anyone had asked me for my ideal of respectability--
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Respectability! Man alive, don't talk about it. The very sound of the
word makes me ill. It's been my curse from a child. I refused to play
hopscotch at eight years old because I thought it wasn't respectable,
and went sliding instead and was nearly drowned. It was I who persuaded
poor father to give up the fried-fish shop because fried fish wasn't
respectable, and he went into oysters and ruined himself in a year. I
was earning twenty pounds a week at the Halls, and what did I do? Threw
it up and went on the stage as principal boy at five pounds--all to be
respectable. And then the stage wasn't respectable enough for me, so I
married Travers, and _he_ wasn't respectable enough for me. And what
has it all ended in? What has this insatiable craving for respectability
brought me to? Why, I'm the wife of a man who has been chucked--chucked
from the Aquarium.
ADAM CHERRY
It is certainly very disappointing
MRS. BEN DIXON.
And that's not all.
ADAM CHERRY
What! Has he been chucked from somewhere else too?
MRS. BEN DIXON
No--at least, not that I know of. I mean that's not the worst that I've
found out. I couldn't tell that poor child, but, Cherry, I'm ruined.
He's swindled me out of all my fortune--all the money that Travers left
me. I haven't a penny left to call my own.
ADAM CHERRY.
Belinda! For Heaven's sake don't say he's a swindler.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Why not? He is my own husband. I suppose I can say what I like about
him. Let's have _some_ consolation. (_Noticing Cherry's distraction._)
What's the matter with you?
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Wildly._) He's got £8,000 of my money. Nearly all I have. I've put it
all into a company of his.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
(_Aghast_.) You? Oh, why did I bring you down here? Oh, you poor lamb!
Oh, what a miserable woman I am!
(_Enter Theodore._)
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Ah, step-mater, I've been looking all over the place for you. (_Noticing
the open paper on the floor where Cherry has dropped it, and, taking in
the facts, he looks from one to the other. Then picks up paper, folds
it, and puts in his pocket._) Finding out the truth about Ben, I see.
Always a very painful matter finding out the truth about people.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Theodore, your step-father's a scoundrel.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Don't put him down to me, mater. He wasn't my selection. _You_ chose him
for me.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Why did you ever let me marry him? _You_ must have seen through him.
_You're_ the old experienced person. Why didn't you warn your poor silly
step-mother? Why didn't you stop me?
THEODORE TRAVERS.
My dear Bella, if I were to advise everybody, and they were to follow
my advice, the world would become so intensely sensible as to be utterly
uninteresting. Besides, there's really nothing much to be upset about.
You see, fortunately, the lady was a _strong_ woman. Now, if she had
been a _weak_ one, why----
MRS. BEN DIXON.
That's not all, Theodore. I could have got over that. I shouldn't have
been the first woman to find out that a man's respectable only so long
as he thinks you can see him. But he's ruined me, Theodore. He's lost
all my money for me.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
(_Whistles._) And found it for himself, I suppose.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
That's just what _I_ suppose too. And not content with that, he's
cheated poor old Cherry here out of £8,000.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
(_Looks across at Cherry, who is standing utterly crushed._) "The
Anti-Alcoholic and Mineral Water Union, Limited?"
ADAM CHERRY.
(_With a groan._) Yes, I signed the application for 200 shares not an
hour ago. He said he'd see that they were allotted to me.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
I should say you could rely upon them. Are they settled for?
ADAM CHERRY.
I expect so by now. He suggested that I should telegraph to my brokers
at the same time.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
And you did so? Of course, you would. (_Looks at watch_). Four
o'clock--too late to do anything to-day. I will go up first thing
to-morrow morning and see if anything can be done. Not that I expect
anything _can_. Ben's got his failings, but he _is_ a good business
man. I'll give a look into your affairs at the same time, mater. I don't
suppose you'll get anything back, but it will be interesting to find out
where it's all gone to.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
(_Rising with grunt of disgust_) Ah! and to think I've got to live with
it, and to call it "my dear" when company's present. I'll make up for it
in private. Theo, keep an eye on me for a bit. Don't let me get at him
unless you want to see me doing my six months' hard for wringing his
neck. (_Goes out_)
THEODORE TRAVERS.
You trust him, mater. He won't let you get at him. (_To Cherry_) Don't
let Ben see that you suspect anything, or he'll----
(_Primrose appears at window_)
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_Looking in_) Come on, Theodore. I'm waiting for you.
THEODORE TRAVERS,
I know you are. You shall be rewarded anon. I've just got to talk a
little business with Mr. Cherry (_Puts his hand on Cherry's shoulder,
and takes him towards door._) Come up to my study. We shan't be
interrupted there.
It's so very kind of you.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Not at all--not at all. (_Aside._) Good material for a financial novel.
(_They go off._)
(_Primrose and Nelly come in from garden_.)
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Nelly! something very serious is going on here. Mr. Ben Dixon's been
doing something that he oughtn't.
(_She sits before piano, touching the keys softly, making a faint
suggestion of music here and there throughout the conversation_). I'm
afraid it's a common failing, dear.
Yes--but he's been doing it more than usual. I don't like that man. Ted
doesn't like him either. He says he is an oily old scoundrel.
NELLY MORRIS.
Ted might speak a little more respectfully of his host.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Oh, he's not our host. It's _Mrs_. Ben Dixon--and besides that was only
to _me_, you know.
NELLY MORRIS.
Oh!
PRIMROSE DEANE.
I never could make out why Mrs. Ben Dixon married him. She's so jolly.
(_Musingly._) One does come across some very ill-assorted couples--very.
When are you going to be married, Nelly?
NELLY MORRIS.
Very soon, I think
PRIMROSE DEANE.
May I be bridesmaid?
NELLY MORRIS.
Oh, there won't be any bridesmaids, dear, or anything of that sort. We
shall just go into the church, our two selves, come out, and go away.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
No breakfast?
NELLY MORRIS.
( Shakes her head and smiles.) No fuss of any kind.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
No dress! No flowers! No presents! No people!
No cake! (_Nell shakes her head_.) How will you know that you're
married?
NELLY MORRIS.
(_A little bitterly._) I shall wake to the fact soon enough.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Nelly, didn't you ever have a young lover? Mr. Cherry's awfully nice
and good, but you know what I mean--somebody handsome, and big, and
impudent. Who---- (_With a girl's quickness notices the trembling of
Nelly's lip._) Was it very long ago?
NELLY MORRIS.
(_Very low._) I think so--very, very long ago.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
What happened? Did you quarrel?
NELLY MORRIS.
No, dear. Only like Jamie in the ballad, he hadn't any siller and Ted
and I hadn't any siller, and----
PRIMROSE DEANE.
And so you're going to marry "Auld Robin Gray." Oh, Nelly, is it too
late? There's a lot of siller in the world, but there isn't much love.
Is it too late, dear?
NELLY MORRIS.
Yes.
(_Enter Jack, with hat and stick in hand, ushered in by servant._)
SERVANT.
Mrs. Ben Dixon won't be long, sir. (_Goes out_.)
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Oh, Mr. Medbury! (_Advances to him and shakes hands._)
JACK MEDBURY.
How d'you do, Miss Deane? (_Shaking hands with Nelly, who has risen, a
little constrainedly._) How are you, Miss Morris?
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Mrs. Ben Dixon will be so glad to see you, I know. She was saying only
this morning how sorry she was you hadn't been able to come down.
JACK MEDBURY.
Well, I'm ashamed to say I haven't come to see Mrs. Ben Dixon now. (_The
girls look surprised._) I've really come more to see Ted. Is he here?
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_Anxiously._) There's nothing happened?
JACK MEDBURY.
Nothing to do with him. It's a matter I wanted to consult him about,
that's all.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
I'll go and find him for you.
JACK MEDBURY.
Oh, it's a shame to trouble you.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
It's brutal, isn't it? (_She goes out laughing._)
JACK MEDBURY.
(_After a pause; he and Nelly seem careful not to look at one another._)
How is Ted? All right?
NELLY MORRIS.
Yes, he's very much better. He seems more cheerful.
JACK MEDBURY.
Ah, yes, things are looking a bit brighter for him, I hope. Change of
luck's better even than change of air for putting new life into a man, I
should think.
NELLY MORRIS.
How--how are _you_ getting on?
JACK MEDBURY.
Me? Oh, much the same as usual. I suppose _I_ ought to be a little
luckier now, if there's any truth in the old adage.
NELLY MORRIS.
(_Still not looking at him--after a pause._) Jack, can you forgive me?
JACK MEDBURY.
There's nothing to forgive, Nelly.
NELLY MORRIS.
Yes there is, Jack--a lot. I've used you very badly. Any other man would
hate me and despise me. But--but I don't want you to, Jack. (_Leans
over over her book. A pause._)
JACK MEDBURY.
There's not much fear of that, Nelly. I can never tell you--I had better
not try to, perhaps--what I feel--what I shall always feel towards you.
It isn't hate, Nelly. We shall be drifting farther and farther apart,
out of sight of one another. Think of me--when you do think of me--as
kindly as I shall ever think of you. It will be a help to me to know
that you are doing so.
(_Nelly has risen, and they stand facing each other. Yielding to a
sudden impulse, she raises her face to his and their lips meet. Then
with a low cry she pushes him from her, and goes out._)
(_Enter Ted and Cherry._)
TED MORRIS.
Hulloa, Jack, old man, anything up?
JACK MEDBURY.
Yes, something rather important. I thought I'd just run down and see you
about it. (_Shaking hands with Cherry._) You're not looking too well,
Mr. Cherry.
ADAM CHERRY.
I'm a little worried, my dear boy--a little worried.
JACK MEDBURY.
Oh, I'm so sorry. Well, look here, I'll talk about this matter to Ted,
then. I won't trouble you with it.
ADAM CHERRY.
No, dear boy; no. If it's about anybody else's worries it will help me
to forget my own. What is it? Nothing wrong with you, I hope?
JACK MEDBURY.
No, it's about other people. (_Commencing to take paper from his
pocket._) Have you seen _The Illustrated Police News_ this week?
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Grasping what is coming._) Yes--I have. What do you know about it?
JACK MEDBURY.
Oh! Oh, nothing (_unfolding paper_), except that the portrait of the
gentleman in the centre picture--drawn by a chum of mine who happened to
be present, and sent to the paper for a joke--seems to me an excellent
likeness of your friend Mr. Ben Dixon. Who do you say it is? (_Hands
paper to Cherry._)
TED MORRIS.
(_Taking paper from Cherry._) Great Scott! it _must_ be Ben Dixon.
ADAM CHERRY.
Oh, it is. There's no question of doubt. Young Travers knows all about
the matter. It _is_ Mr. Ben Dixon.
JACK MEDBURY
Mrs. Wheedles says it isn't.
TED MORRIS.
Mrs. Wheedles? What does she know about it?
JACK MEDBURY.
She says she knows the party very well indeed, and that his name
is--Wheedles!
TED MORRIS
Wheedles!
JACK MEDBURY.
The long-lost Wheedles!
ADAM CHERRY.
Impossible!
JACK MEDBURY.
So I explained to her. I told her that he was an eminent philanthropist
and that his name was Ben Dixon. She said she didn't care what he was
or what he was called: his real name was Wheedles, he was her lawful
married husband, and if we would bring her face to face with him she
would precious soon prove it.
(A pause. The three men look at one another.)
ADAM CHERRY.
Well, from what I've found out to-day, I should say he was villain
enough for anything.
TED MORRIS.
And from what I've suspected for a pretty long time, I should say the
same.
JACK MEDBURY.
What are we to do? Mrs. Wheedles says she'll have the law on him.
TED MORRIS.
Why, do all we can as good citizens to assist Mrs. Wheedles and the law.
It will be a precious good thing for aunt to get rid of the old humbug.
ADAM CHERRY.
We must go to work cautiously you know, Ted, or we may only make matters
more unpleasant for your aunt than they are. Mrs. Wheedles may be
mistaken.
TED MORRIS.
I hope to goodness she isn't. I wonder how we can find out?
JACK MEDBURY.
Oh, by-the-bye, she gave me this too (_produces photo and shows it_).
The last portrait of Wheedles--taken four years ago. (_Ted takes paper,
and compares photo with paper._) Should you say 'twas the same man?
TED MORRIS.
(_Examining_.) The whiskers make such a difference. Hadn't she got a
photo of him with some hair on his face?
JACK MEDBURY.
No. I asked her that. Wheedles seems to have always lived a clean-shaven
life.
TED MORRIS.
I wish we could get Ben Dixon to shave himself.
JACK MEDBURY.
Yes; that would be the thing
ADAM CHERRY.
Yes; but it's no good talking about that. He's hardly likely to do
that to please us. No, this is a matter that we must go to work about
cautiously. Now, you come with me, Jack, and we will talk it over with
young Travers (_moving with Jack towards door_). You stop here, Ted.
We'd better not be all together. It will look as if something was
the matter and we must keep the thing quiet. (_Cherry and Jack go off
talking_.)
TED MORRIS.
(_Crosses, and sitting on the easy chair enjoying the paper._) By Jove!
Old Ben at the Aquarium--drunk and----
(_Ben Dixon is heard whistling "There is a happy land." Ted, hearing
him, pushes paper under cushion. Crosses to fire whistling "Get your
hair cut." Enter Ben Dixon._)
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_Looking about._) You haven't seen my spectacles anywhere, have you,
Ted?
TED MORRIS.
No, Mr. Ben Dixon. Did you leave them here?
MR. BEN DIXON.
Yes, I wish you'd look on the garden seat. I may have left them there.
Do you mind?
TED MORRIS.
Oh, certainly. (_Goes out through window. Ben Dixon hastily darts to
chair and, moving cushion, finds paper._)
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_Seizing it with a cry of joy_.) Ah! So it _was_ here all the time.
Theo must have slipped it there when he heard Bella coming. What a bit
of luck. They've none of them seen it. (_Looking at it_) Oh, it is like
me. If I could only disguise myself for a little while, till----
(_Re-enter Ted. Ben Dixon hides paper under his coat._)
TED MORRIS.
No, I can't see them.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Oh, it's all right, my dear boy. I've found them, thanks. They were in
my pocket all the time. So silly of me, wasn't it? (_Laughs, and goes
out, whistling._)
(_Enter Primrose by window._)
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_Looking in_) Business over?
TED MORRIS.
For the present--could it stay for a moment when pleasure in the person
of Miss Deane presents herself? (_Bows._)
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_Curtseying._) I thank you, fair sir. How very agreeable we've become
all of a sudden.
TED MORRIS.
"Become!" Ain't I always agreeable?
PRIMROSE DEANE.
No. Not when you talk about going away and never coming back, and say
you hope it will be a long while before you see any of us again.
TED MORRIS.
I--I don't think I said I "hoped" it would be a long while. I think I
said I _feared_ it might be.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Oh, well, it's all the same. You needn't go away at all unless you
liked.
TED MORRIS.
(_Apologetically._) You see my examination is coming on pretty soon now.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Well, anyhow, you could come down again afterwards. (_A pause--pettishly
as she crosses to window._) But there! of course if you want to avoid
any chance of ever seeing any of us any more why---- (Turns her back on
him.)
TED MORRIS.
(_Speaking low and earnestly._) It would be better perhaps if I did
avoid seeing---- one of you any more.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Oh, what an unkind thing to say! Which one? Why?
TED MORRIS.
Because I'm afraid that if I saw very much more of her----
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Of _her!_
TED MORRIS.
Of her--I might make a fool of myself. (_A pause_.)
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_Who shows she fully understands his drift--coquettishly._) In--in any
particular sort of away?
TED MORRIS.
In a way that men often do make fools of themselves, Miss Deane. Perhaps
we'd better change the conversation.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
I--_I_think it's ra-rather interesting.
TED MORRIS.
(_With sudden eager excitement._) Miss Deane--Primrose--do you mean that
you could ever----
MRS. BEN DIXON.
(_Without._) Primrose--Primrose. (_Ted stops. Primrose starts, and seems
irritated._) (_Calling louder_.) Primrose.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_Calling._) Yes, Mrs. Ben Dixon, I'm coming. (_To Ted_.) Don't go away.
I'll be back again in a minute. (_Runs off._)
TED MORRIS.
By Jove! Am I awake or dreaming! She _must_ have meant she----
(Enter Theo.)
THEODORE TRAVERS.
(_He is smoking a cigarette._) Oh, I thought Primrose was here.
TED MORRIS.
Yes. She--she'll be back in a minute, I think.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Oh. Just give her that. (_Hands him a letter._) Tell her not to be
alarmed at the seal. It's only from her guardian--the Lord Chancellor.
TED MORRIS.
The Lord Chancellor!
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Yes; didn't you know? She's a ward in Chancery.
TED MORRIS.
No--I--I thought it was only heiresses who were wards in Chancery.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Well, you'd call her an heiress, I suppose. She'll be worth about two
thousand a year. (_A pause._)
TED MORRIS.
(_With a slight laugh, and by a great effort, speaking in natural easy
tones._) I--I thought she was a poor little penniless orphan--dependent
on Aunt Bella.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
No; she doesn't suggest the heiress a bit, does she? Just as well she
doesn't, perhaps. One doesn't have to be keeping such a continual
look out for the fortune-hunting crew. She'll want to see me about that
letter, I expect. I shall be down on the Putting Green. (_Goes out._)
TED MORRIS.
(_Bitterly._) Yes, I was dreaming. This is the awakening. An heiress
with two thousand a year, and I with hardly a second coat to my back! A
smart pair they'd have said we were--Nelly and I. Damn the money!
(_Enter Primrose._)
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_Running over to him._) I haven't been long, have I?
TED MORRIS.
(_Turning away from her._) Haven't you? It's seemed a long time.
(_Handing her the letter without looking at her._) I think Theodore
wants to see you about this letter. He's in the garden.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_She takes the letter but hardly glances at it._) Don't--don't you
want to see me? You--you were going to ask me if--if I meant--something
or other.
TED MORRIS.
(_Desperately._) Miss Deane, I--I acted a little strangely just now.
Please try to forget it. I--I don't think I quite knew what I was doing.
PRIMROSE DEANE
I will try to forget it, Mr. Morris.
(_Enter Mrs. Ben Dixon and Jack_.)
MRS. BEN DIXON.
(_As they come on_.) Well, drat the boy, you'll stop and have a cup of
tea, and a bit of seed cake. You've got time for that?
JACK MEDBURY.
Well, I won't say no to that.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Um--well, it's surprising that you don't. (_To Primrose._) Ring the
bell, dear, and let's have some tea up. Lord help the child, what's the
matter with _you?_
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Nothing, Mrs. Ben Dixon.
(_Cherry and Nelly enter._)
MRS. BEN DIXON,
For goodness sake, look it then. There's no need for the whole house to
be like a funeral party. Ted, do go and find Theodore. That tongue of
his will be of some use for once in a way. Tell him that if he'll come
in he can have all the conversation to himself--that ought to bring him.
(_Ted goes out by window_.) We'll have _somebody_ cheerful about.
NELLY MORRIS.
Shall I see to the tea, aunt? You are looking so worried.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
No--no, child. Let me be doing something, then
I don't think. What's brought that artist friend of yours down in such a
hurry? There's nothing wrong with Ted, is there?
NELLY MORRIS.
No--I don't think so, aunt.
MRS. BEN DIXON:
Um--just the afternoon for it to happen if there was. Troubles always
come together in this world, and they don't even make the usual
reduction for taking a quantity.
(Enter Theodore and Ted by window.)
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Want me, mater?
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Yes, I do--look at us all. Did you ever see a collection of people
looking more as if they'd just been fined forty shillings all round?
We want some of your light philosophical conversation. Make us a bit
cheerful.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
(_Looks round._) Too big an order for me, mater. You want a soothing and
elevating influence here. Where's Ben?
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Don't you try to irritate me with that step-father of yours, Theodore,
or you and I----
(Enter servant.)
SERVANT.
Did you ring, ma'am?
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Yes, bring the tea, and tell Davis to----
(_Enter Ben Dixon. He has shaved himself. He enters singing. The servant
remains, staring at his master._)
MRS. BEN DIXON.
(_Staring aghast at Ben Dixon._) Lord save us all! What's the man done
to himself!
(_Cherry, Jack, and Ted have been talking together. They have not yet
looked at Ben Dixon. On hearing this, Cherry starts and looks rounds
then whips out the photo of Wheedles from his pocket, and looks from it
to Ben Dixon. Ted and Jack look over Cherry's shoulder._)
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_Sweetly._) Only shaved, Sweety. (_Looks round at them all_). How do
you like me?
TED MORRIS.
(_In an excited whisper_). By Jove! it _is_----
ADAM CHERRY.
Quiet.
Curtain.
THE THIRD ACT.
_Cherry's sitting-room at Mrs. Wheedles'. A comfortable, old-fashioned
room furnished in good substantial style. Cherry and Mrs. Wheedles
discovered. Cherry smoking pipe in his easy chair before fire. Mrs.
Wheedles sits uncomfortably on extreme edge of the other easy-chair._
MRS. WHEEDLES.
And you really think, he'll come?
ADAM CHERRY.
Tolerably sure of it, Mrs. Wheedles. I flatter myself I baited the
hook pretty artfully. I wrote him that if he could call here about four
o'clock to-day I could introduce him to a lady who I knew took great
interest in his schemes, and that I thought some advantage might result
from the meeting. (_Chuckles_.) And so I hope it will.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
And he said he would?
ADAM CHERRY.
He replied that he would not allow such an opportunity for benefiting
the human race to escape him for worlds, and that he would be here to
the minute.
MRS. WHEEDLES,
(_Glances at clock over mantel_.) It's twenty minutes to four now.
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Looks at his watch._) Ah, that's five minutes fast. Mrs. Ben Dixon's
rather late though. She said she'd be here at half-past three.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
How has she taken it, poor woman?
ADAM CHERRY.
Well, of course it's a very unpleasant position for her, but, between
ourselves, I fancy she will be very glad if it turns out that he _is_
your husband, and, consequently, not hers. I expect that's why she's so
anxious to be in the "show," as she calls it. She says she wants to see
the truth for herself, and fix him down.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
She hasn't said a word to him about it, I suppose?
ADAM CHERRY.
She hasn't had a chance--yet. They quarrelled over money matters
(_groans to himself_) and other things, and she left him before she ever
heard of this.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
Ah, she could never really have loved him, Mr. Cherry. (_Wipes away a
tear._)
ADAM CHERRY.
I'm inclined to agree with you there, Mrs. Wheedles. (_He crosses to
window, looking at his watch._) I wish she'd come.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
(_Crying._) Such a good man as he was--before he went wrong. (_Bell
heard._) She starts up. Oh Lord, that's him, I feel it in my bones.
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Looking out of window._) Your bones have misled you, Mrs. Wheedles.
It's Mr. Travers, and--(_looking out further_), no, it isn't big enough
for Mrs. Ben Dixon.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
Oh dear, it gave me quite a spasm. I wish I didn't feel in such a
fluster.
(_The door at back is opened by a maid, and Theodore enters followed by
Primrose. Mrs. Wheedles slips quietly out._)
ADAM CHERRY
(_Greeting Theodore._) Where's Mrs. Ben Dixon?
THEODORE TRAVERS.
She'll be here in a minute. It occurred to her when we got to Paddington
Station that she hadn't had any lunch, and that this wasn't a scene to
be gone through on an empty stomach. So we left her there laying in
a beefsteak and a bottle of stout. Miss Deane has come with us. She
thought she would like to see Nelly.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_Advancing and shaking hands with Cherry._) Yes, Mr. Cherry. Do you
know if she's in?
ADAM CHERRY.
She's upstairs all alone, my dear. She'll be so pleased to see you, I
know.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Oh, I'll run up to her, then. (_Moves towards door._)
ADAM CHERRY.
Yes, do, my dear. (_Following her._) Let me----
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_Stopping him._) No, don't trouble, Mr. Cherry. I know my way. (_Opens
door, and goes out._)
THEODORE TRAVERS.
I say--I suppose there's no where in this room where I could hide, is
there? (_Looks round_.) It will be a lovely scene, you know--quite a
family group, Ben and his two wives. (_Enthusiastically_.) Why, such an
opportunity may not occur again for years. Can't you put me behind these
curtains? (_He is by window_.)
ADAM CHERRY.
Oh, my dear boy, impossible!
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Um! 'Twould be awkward I suppose. Pity! (_hopefully,_) What sort of a
keyhole have you got? (_Crossing to door, Right._)
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Laughs._) Not much good to you, I'm afraid. You can't get the key out.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
(_Who has opened the door--the key being outside--trying it._) Ah, no
encouragement to an artist anywhere here. I shall have to pump the scene
out of the mater afterwards, and her accounts are always so painfully
idealistic.
(_Ted enters._)
Hulloa, Ted!
TED MORRIS.
Hulloa! You here?
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Yes. (_Looks at him._) You've been ploughed then?
TED MORRIS.
Who told you?
THEODORE TRAVERS.
You did, by your face. What does it feel like?
TED MORRIS.
(_With a cynical laugh_) Do you want to make notes?
THEODORE TRAVERS.
(_Taking out his note-book_) If you are sure you don't mind.
TED MORRIS.
Not at all. Delighted to be of service to the cause of literature. Now
let me see how does a man feel. Well, at first he feels sick and dazed.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
(_Writing_) Yes.
TED MORRIS.
And then he gets mad and curses himself and the world and everybody in
it; and feels----
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Half a minute, old chap, I am not a typewriter.
TED MORRIS.
----and feels that he'd like to go to the devil only he hasn't got the
travelling expenses.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Quite right. The expensiveness of vice I have always considered to be
virtue's greatest safeguard. Poor people can only afford to go as far as
the dogs. Yes?
TED MORRIS.
Oh, and then--oh, then he feels very weary of the whole thing and wishes
that he could get away from it all, and go to sleep--for a long time.
(_Throws himself in chair._)
ADAM CHERRY.
Oh, come, you mustn't despair. You've only been "spun," as you fellows
call it, for a few months.
TED MORRIS.
Oh, no, it's nothing very terrible to be "spun," if you've got anything
to spin on.
THEODORE TRAVERS
Yes--a top spins best when it's full of air--a man doesn't.
ADAM CHERRY.
You see, you won't let anybody help you, Ted
TED MORRIS.
(_Rising._) Oh, that's only my nonsense, Mr. Cherry. We're not paupers.
(_To Theodore._) Are you coming upstairs to see Nelly?
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Yes, yes; I'll come up with you now. How is she?
TED MORRIS.
Oh, not too jolly. You'll be able to make a few notes. (_They go out_.)
ADAM CHERRY.
Poor boy! Ah, well, he won't be able to help my helping him when I'm his
brother-in-law! (_He takes up a photo of Nelly lying on table._) Dear,
dear me, fancy me a married man, with somebody to call "my dear!" You're
a lucky dog, Adam Cherry--a lucky dog, even if you have been swindled
out of all your savings, and have to go on working for your living! Bah!
what's _work_ when you've got somebody to work for? Why----
(_Notices Theodore's note-book left on table and pauses._) Hulloa! Our
literary friend's note-book. (_Takes it up and turns it about in his
hand, musing._) I wonder if there'd be any harm now in looking inside?
I should like to see how he goes to work--oh, it's only just the same as
an artist's sketch-book, and nobody minds looking into that. (_Opens it
at end and reads._) "June 28th, Brussels. Good idea for farcical comedy.
N.B. Will probably need toning down for English market. Married lady
starts to call on elderly gentleman of irreproachable character,
she----"(_Reads on with broadening smile extending to chuckle--suddenly
checks himself._) Yes--it probably would (_Turns over more leaves._)
Hulloa, what's this marked "Unfinished. Novel or comedy. Characters:
Good-hearted, but chuckle-headed old man, knows himself fifty-five,
calls himself forty-five, fancies himself thirty-five." (_Chuckles_):
Ah, yes, I know that class of man--very clever, very clever! "Young
artist, somewhat conventional type, see page 3. Girl, cross between
the romantically heroic and the quaintly practical. Girl loves artist.
Artist loves girl. But both are poor. Old chap, well off, proposes to
girl. She, tired of poverty, throws love to the dogs and accepts. Old
fellow suspects nothing and tells himself that he will soon win her love
by his devotion and all that sort of thing. Will he ever find out the
truth?" Ah, yes, that ought to make a capital story. I wonder what
_will_ happen? (_Putting down book._) I feel quite sorry for that old
man. A _very_ interesting little story indeed. I wonder where he got it
from now? (_Takes up book again._) He's dated it June 14th--June
14th--why---- Yes, that's the day I proposed to Nelly--and--he was here
that day. (_Sits thinking. Suddenly a suspicion of the truth flashes
across him. He hurriedly takes the book and reads again, this time in a
trembling voice._) "Chuckle-headed old man--Young artist." (_Thinks_).
Jack Medbury. "Girl loves artist--artist loves girl--old chap well
off--proposes to girl. She, tired of poverty, throws love to the dogs
and accepts. Old fellow suspects nothing--tells himself he will soon win
her love by his devotion, and--and all that sort of thing." (_Lets his
hand with book fall on table._) That's the true story. It's _I_ who have
been building up the romance. Jack used to be here every day. He's never
been near the place since. Nelly never smiles even now. I've fancied it
was because she was ill and worried, and that I should be able to make
her happy as soon as I had her all to myself and could take care of her.
(_Irritably pushing the book away from him._) I wish people wouldn't
leave their things about. (_Bows his head between his hands._)
(_Primrose pushes open the door gently and enters. Seeing Cherry in this
attitude, she comes softly over and lays her hand on his shoulder._)
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Are you ill, Mr. Cherry?
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Starting._) No, my dear; no. I was only thinking. How--how do you
think Nelly's looking?
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_She has brought in some flowers and is arranging them in vase._) Oh,
pretty well.
ADAM CHERRY.
It--it doesn't seem to you, my dear, does it, that she's fretting
herself about anything?
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_Puzzled how to answer._) Oh no; I expect she's worried about her
brother, you know, Mr. Cherry, and poor Mrs. Ben Dixon.
ADAM CHERRY.
Ah, yes, yes; but don't you think there may be something else
besides--something more nearly concerning herself?
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Why do you ask, Mr. Cherry? (_She comes to him_.)
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Rising and taking both her hands._) Because, my dear, I'm a very
inexperienced old man, and I want some shrewd little person who
understands these matters better than I do to advise me. (_Very
earnestly_.) Do you think, my dear, I shall be making Nelly happy by
marrying her?
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Truthfully, Mr. Cherry?
ADAM CHERRY.
Truthfully, my dear, for both our sakes.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Then I don't, Mr. Cherry.
ADAM CHERRY.
You--you think there's somebody else who could do it better? (_Primrose
nods her head._) Thank you, my dear (_releases her hands_).
PRIMROSE DEANE.
I'm so sorry, Mr. Cherry.
ADAM CHERRY.
There'd be more to be sorry for still, my dear, if were too late to mend
matters (_turning away_). We won't talk about it any more. Have you seen
Ted?
PRIMROSE DEANE.
N-no.
ADAM CHERRY.
Not! Why he's just gone upstairs.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_Awkwardly._) Y-yes--I--I heard him come in. I was in Nelly's room. I
came out by the other door.
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Looking at her with surprise._) I thought you and he were such good
friends?
PRIMROSE DEANE.
This world's friendships are very fleeting.
ADAM CHERRY.
(_With a smile._) My dear, there's some mistake here. I said just now
that I was inexperienced. But there are some things that even dim eyes
cannot help seeing, and I'm sure that--forgive me, my dear, I'm only an
old fellow--that he cared for you very much.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_Looking out of window._) He--he made me think so.
ADAM CHERRY.
And then you quarrelled?
PRIMROSE DEANE.
No--he changed--all of a sudden just as--as if he had found out
something bad against me--and--and I've never done anything bad--not,
not _very_ bad (_choking a sob_). Do you think anybody could have said
anything to set him against me?
ADAM CHERRY.
Oh, impossible! What could---- Wait a minute, though. There's one thing
somebody might have told him about you that would have been enough to
send Master Ted off at double quick march.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
What?
ADAM CHERRY.
Can't you think?
PRIMROSE DEANE.
N-no. Is there anything very dreadful about me, then?
ADAM CHERRY.
Yes, my dear--to a young fellow as proud as he is poor--your money.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
My money! Won't anybody ever lo--like me then because I've got some
money?
ADAM CHERRY.
Plenty, my dear. But pennyless young men who fall in love with heiresses
are liable to be dubbed "fortune-hunters," and our high-spirited young
friend----
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_Interrupting petulantly._) Rather than risk that, would sacrifice all
his life's happiness. I call it very horrid and--and very selfish of
him.
ADAM CHERRY.
It's very silly, my dear, but depend upon it that's the explanation.
You----
(_Primrose, when she entered, left the door a little open, and now
Ted is heard whistling as he comes downstairs. Primrose is in front of
easy-chair. Cherry pushes her down into it and stands before her._)
ADAM CHERRY.
Tell him what you think of him.
(_Enter Ted, still smoking his pipe._)
TED MORRIS.
Do you mind my sitting down here for a little while, Cherry? I'm
tired of walking about the streets, and I'm not feeling in good enough
condition to sit out Travers' wit and humour. I've left him upstairs
with Nelly.
ADAM CHERRY.
Certainly, my dear boy. Stop here as long as ever you like and make
yourself comfortable. I'll be back in a few minutes. (_He goes out._)
TED MORRIS.
(_He strolls to window, whistling, and looks out._) It's a damned world.
(Primrose coughs.)
TED MORRIS.
(_Startled, he looks round and sees Primrose._) I--I beg your pardon,
Miss Deane. I had no idea _you_ were here.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Is that the way you usually talk when I'm _not_ here?
TED MORRIS.
(_Smiling._) Not always (_Gloomily again._) The truth is I'm a bit down
on my luck just now, and----
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_Kindly_) I know. Nelly has been telling me. I am so very sorry.
TED MORRIS.
Thank you, Miss Deane, I knew you would be.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_Frigidly._) Oh, did you? I don't think you had any right to assume it
after your conduct at out last interview. I suppose you know that I'm
excessively angry with you.
TED MORRIS.
(_Dismally._) You have every right to be. (_A pause--Ted goes to
window._)
PRIMROSE DEANE.
I think if I were a gentleman, and had behaved exceedingly rudely to
a lady, I should take the first opportunity of begging her pardon, and
asking her to--to _try_ and forgive me.
TED MORRIS.
(_Still at window._) I do beg your pardon, Miss Deane, from the bottom
of my heart. And I should like you to forgive me--if you ever could.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
I don't think that's at all the way anybody ought to ask anybody else's
pardon (_looks across at him_) all that way off. And I can't forgive you
until I know why you did it. (_A pause._) Why--why did you do it?
TED MORRIS.
I--I cannot tell you. Please don't ask me.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
I suppose then I must think what I like?
TED MORRIS.
(_Gloomily._) I'm afraid so.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
I--I thought at one time it might be because--(_looking slyly at him_)
because I had lost all my money.
TED MORRIS.
(_Turning suddenly mid eagerly._) Lost all your money?
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_Looking carefully away._) Yes. I thought somebody might have told
you--people are so fond of telling bad news--and that you didn't care
to have anything more to do with me after that. Of course, when people
have lost all their money they can't expect people to be so nice as--as
they were before.
TED MORRIS.
(_Who has stood rooted to the ground._) Then that was what that letter
was about. It came just at that very time. And--and you have been
thinking that of me! (_Rushes across and kneels down beside her, and
takes her hands._) Miss Deane--Primrose--let me work for you. Let me
take care of you all your life. I can do it now. I feel like a new man.
I can face the whole College of Surgeons and the world too, and lick
them both. (_His manner grows more and more enthusiastic and joyous._)
PRIMROSE DEANE.
You--you're not very sympathetic.
TED MORRIS.
I know I'm a selfish brute. I can't help it. You shan't regret it. I'll
make another fortune for you and you shall have it all. Primrose, dear,
I love you, I love you. I could not speak when you were rich, but now
you are poor I can. You--you do care for me a little, dear.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
A little, Ted.
TED MORRIS.
Enough to be my wife?
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Yes, I think it's enough for that. (_Ted draws her face down and kisses
her._) And you don't mind the money either way?
TED MORRIS.
Of course not, dear.
PRIMROSE DEANE,
And you care for me just the same, rich or poor?
TED MORRIS.
(_He sits on arm of chair beside her_.) Now and always, sweetheart, rich
or poor.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
I'm glad of that. I shouldn't like to be cared for merely because I was
poor. It would be so awkward if--if one wasn't poor.
TED MORRIS.
But you are poor?
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Not--not very, I'm afraid, dear.
TED MORRIS.
You said you'd lost all your money!
PRIMROSE DEANE.
No, I didn't, Ted. I said somebody might have told you I had. People do
tell things about other people that are not true sometimes. (_Ted rises
and stands by table, looking troubled. Primrose breaks into a ringing
laugh._) You can't get out of it now, Ted. I could bring a breach of
promise case against you. (_Ted still looks stern. Primrose rises and
comes to him, playing with one of his coat buttons._) I've deceived
and trapped you into it, haven't I? Please forgive me. It--it isn't
so _very_ much, and I could give it away to the Salvation Army if you
liked, or we could let Mr. Ben Dixon lay it out for us. (_Laughs._)
TED MORRIS.
You don't understand, dear.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_Seriously._) Yes--I do, dear. You're a silly stuck-up old thing.
You never would have spoken so long as you thought I was rich--and
I--(_nestling against him_) wanted you.
TED MORRIS.
(_Relenting._) They'll say I married you for your money.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Don't you care for me sufficiently, dear, not to mind what "they" say?
(_Looking him earnestly in the face._)
TED MORRIS.
(_Looks at her, and then takes her face in his hands and kisses her._)
Yes, dear, forgive me. (_After this, in loverlike fashion, they commence
walking about the room and talking with their arms round each other's
waists._)
TED MORRIS.
Let me see. I shall pass my examination in November.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
And then we must look about for a nice little practice. We'll have one
somewhere in the country, shall we?
TED MORRIS.
Yes. (_Musing._) I wish I hadn't been fool enough to let that Ben Dixon
have all----
(_A knock at front door heard. Primrose runs to window and looks out._)
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Yes, I thought so. It's Mrs. Ben Dixon. (_Running to door and holding
out her hand to Ted._) Let's go upstairs to Nelly. (_Ted catches her
hand, and they run off, leaving the door wide open behind them. A wait.
Then enters Mrs. Ben Dixon, shown in by servant._)
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Is Adam Cherry in? (_Cherry follows in._) Oh, here you are. I ain't late,
am I?
ADAM CHERRY.
No--not as it happens. But I'm expecting him every minute. (_To
servant_.) Ask Mrs. Wheedles to step up, will you? (_Servant goes out._)
MRS. BEN DIXON.
I was bound to stop and get a snack. This is going to be a trying scene,
you know, Cherry. What does--what's the poor woman's name--Mrs. Wheedles
--think about it now?
ADAM CHERRY.
Oh, much the same. She's still sure he's the man.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
I hope to goodness she's right. We shall look silly, you know, Cherry,
if he isn't.
ADAM CHERRY.
And he will look silly if he is. (_Enter Mrs. Wheedles. She is nervous
but tries to be confident and to behave, as she would term it, "as
a lady"_) Oh here you are, Mrs. Wheedles. This is Mrs.----
(_pauses--awkwardly_.)
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Well, we're not sure who I am at present. That's just what I've come to
find out. I suppose there'll be no doubt about your knowing this beauty
if he is the man?
MRS. WHEEDLES.
(_Stiffly_.) I think not, madam. I was his wife for ten years.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Ten! Ah, poor soul, no wonder you look sad. I've been it for eighteen
months. I hope you mean to be firm, Mrs. Wheedles?
MRS. WHEEDLES. I shall do my duty as a woman.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
I'm glad to hear you say so. I hope he'll get two years.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
(_Sighing._) Ah, so happy as we used to be, too.
ADAM CHERRY.
If you take my advice, you'll make him fork out something to divide
between you, and then let him go.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Now look here, Cherry, don't you suggest anything of the kind. Don't you
interfere between us and our husband.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
_My_ husband, madam.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Oh, all right, your husband. I'm sure you're quite welcome to him. I've
saved a good deal more out of the wreck than I expected to, thanks to
Theodore; and we shouldn't get anything out of him if we tried. He's
deceived me and he's deceived Mrs. Wheedles--as simple and trusting a
woman as ever breathed, I should say, from the look of her. I want to
think of him as doing some hard work for once in his life.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
You're quite right, ma'am. He doesn't deserve any mercy at our hands--a
good wife I was to him--none of your flighty sort. (_Begins to cry. Bell
heard._)
ADAM CHERRY.
There he is, I expect. I must see him first. You just step in there
(_indicating door_) and wait till I've gone out and closed the door
behind me. That will be your cue. (_The two women retire towards inner
room._) I shall be in the little room the other side of the passage if
you want me. (_Ben Dixon's voice is heard in passage. Cherry nods and
signs the two women to disappear. They do so, closing the door behind
them._)
(Enter Ben Dixon. He is dressed for travelling, bag and umbrella. He
enters, beaming as usual, and laying down his hat, bag, and umbrella
on chair by door, advances to Cherry and shakes hands with him with one
hand while holding his watch in the other. )
MR. BEN DIXON.
My dear Cherry, I've only just ten minutes. Is the lady here?
ADAM CHERRY.
Oh, yes, but--but I'm afraid she'll want to talk to you for more than
ten minutes.
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_Makes a clicking noise with his tongue._) I'm really afraid I cannot
spare her any more. I must catch the afternoon mail from Charing Cross.
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Quickly_.) Going abroad?
MR. BEN DIXON.
Yes, Mr. Cherry.
ADAM CHERRY.'
Anything to do with the "Anti-Alcoholic and Mineral Water Union?"
MR. BEN DIXON.
Partly so.
ADAM CHERRY.
Ah! I thought you'd be having to travel soon in connection with that
affair. I'll send the lady to you at once, anyhow. (_Moving towards door
at back._)
MR. BEN DIXON.
Do, Mr. Cherry; do. And if she's got the cash ready--or a cheque, it
really ought not to take long, you know.
ADAM CHERRY.
I'll leave you to explain the situation to her yourself.
(_Cherry goes out slamming the door behind him. Ben Dixon goes to his
bag and takes out a prospectus and crossing and standing facing windows
begins to read it to himself. While he is doing this Mrs. Ben Dixon and
Mrs. Wheedles enter quietly._)
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_With prospectus in his hand rehearsing to himself in soft voice what
he intends to say to his supposed client._) You will be assisting, my
dear madam, in saving many poor souls from destruction; you will also
get 15 per cent, for your money. For myself----
(_He turns and sees the two women. The paper drops from his hand and he
stands looking from one to the other like a trapped rat. For an instant
he thinks of escape. He makes a step towards the door at back, but Mrs.
Ben Dixon makes a movement to cut him off, then towards door Right,
before which Mrs Wheedles stands. Then he makes a movement as if
thinking of the window. Then seeing the hopelessness of his case and
understanding the situation, he makes up his mind. With an expression
of wonder and joy, he advances with outstretched arms towards Mrs.
Wheedles._)
MR. BEN DIXON.
What, Gerty! And you're _not_ dead! Oh, why did they tell me that you
were! Why----
MRS. BEN DIXON.
(_Intercepts him_.) Here, that won't do. That's a bit too thin, Ben. You
described yourself when you married me as a bachelor.
MR. BEN DIXON.
I know I did, my dear, but I can explain--I can explain everything.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
You will have the opportunity of doing so--before the magistrate
(_regarding him with concentrated disgust_), you sanctimonious old
scoundrel.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
A good wife as I was to you, Henery, how could you do it?
MR. BEN DIXON.
My dear Gertrude, I can explain.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Explain! You'll explain yourself into heaven if they're not sharp. Can
you explain why you humbugged and lied an unfortunate fool of a woman
into marrying you?
MRS. WHEEDLES.
And broke your poor wife's heart.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
And tried to swindle her out of every penny she possessed.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
And deserted a poor harmless babe as was the very image of him.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
I'm sorry for the child; but we'll make him pay for it, Mrs. Wheedles.
MR. BEN DIXON.
If you will only allow me to explain.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Explain? What is there to explain? Do you deny that you are married to
Mrs. Wheedles, there?
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_Virtuously_). No, Bella, I do not! No consideration of consequence to
myself shall induce me to deny it. I am proud--as anyone might be--to be
the husband of this noble lady! (_Crosses over to Mrs. Wheedles' side._)
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Oh, well you've been pretty modest about it of late. And do you deny
that eighteen months ago you married me?
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_More in sorrow than in anger._) No, Bella, much as I may regret it--I
do not, I _will_ not deny the truth.
MRS. WHEEDLES. Why did you do it, Henery?
MR. BEN DIXON.
It was wrong of me. I own it. We are none of us perfect. The woman
tempted me, and I fell.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
I tempted you?
MR. BEN DIXON.
You, Bella. I do not blame you. You loved me--at least you said you
did--and you dangled your purse before me. I thought of all the
good that I could do to others with your money. I always do think of
others--it is my weakness. I sacrificed myself for the good of humanity.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
(_Too staggered for words_). Well, I'm----
MRS. WHEEDLES.
You never thought of poor _me_, Henery.
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_With an air of sweet sadness._) Not think of you, Gertrude? Ah, how
often have I not longed to seek you--to come to you with outstretched
arms and say, "Gertrude, let us forgive and forget, let us be happy
again as we were in the dear old days gone by." (_Stifles a sob._)
MRS. BEN DIXON. Why didn't you do it?
MR. BEN DIXON.
My dear Bella, do not interrupt. There were reasons rendering it
necessary for me to control my longing--you were one of them.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
And did you never think of what had become of me--of how I was getting
on?
MR. BEN DIXON.
Do you think I could have lived a moment in doubt? I made enquiries.
They told me you were well and----
MRS. BEN DIXON.
You said just now they told you she was dead.
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_Irritably._) My good woman, do be quiet. I'm not addressing you. I'm
talking to my wife.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
Do let the man explain.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Explain! And do you mean to say you're going to be fool enough to listen
to him--you poor ninny-hammer?
MRS. WHEEDLES.
(_Bridling._) Don't you call me names, ma'am. I'm a respectable married
woman, which is more than some people are.
MRS. BEN DIXON
And whose fault if they're not, I should like to know? Why couldn't you
keep him when you'd got him?--not let him loose to prey on poor fools
like me.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
Why did you come with your arts and your tricks and lure him away,
ma'am?
MRS. BEN DIXON.
I! I lure away _that!_ You silly old woman!
MRS. WHEEDLES.
No more a silly old woman than you are, ma'am. He was a loving Christian
husband till you came between us with your painted face.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
(_Close to her._) You say I paint my face, and I'll pull your false
front off.
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_He has hitherto remained standing between them in an attitude
expressive of pious indifference, his finger-tips pressed against each
other._) Ladies! ladies!
MRS. BEN DIXON.
(_Turns fiercely on him._) You be quiet (_he skips out of her way_),
and keep your breath to bamboozle that poor fool with. You take him back
again, my dear, you haven't had enough of him as yet. I shan't interfere
I am only too glad to be rid of him. Only if he makes a fool of you a
second time, don't you come to me for sympathy. I've done with you both,
and I've done with respectability. I've paid enough for being a prude.
For the future give me something wholesome and disreputable. (_She
sweeps out by door at back which she slams behind her._)
MRS. WHEEDLES.
(_Calling after her_.) Hussy!
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_Soothing her._) Don't take any notice of her, dearest; she's a little
excited, that's all.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
(_Clinging to him._) I feel so upset, Henery (_crying_).
MR. BEN DIXON.
Of course you do. You're not strong, Gertrude. We must take more care of
you. (_Puts his arm round her while slyly looking at his watch._)
MRS. WHEEDLES.
(_Looking up lovingly at him!_) You won't leave me again?
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_He hastily slips watch out of sight._) Leave you! Not now that I
have you once again. (_Squeezes her to him tenderly--then with joyful
playfulness._) And I'll tell you what we'll do, Gerty, to celebrate
this joyful reunion. We'll have one of our dear little old evenings
out together--do you remember them? The little dinner at the little
restaurant with the little bottle of wine, and the Adelphi afterwards.
(_Mrs. Wheedles answers with a look and a coy laugh._) Run and put your
bonnet on and we'll trot off together this very minute and get away from
them all.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
I must just change my dress, Henery.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Of course, of course you must, you long will it?
But it won't take
MRS. WHEEDLES.
Not more than ten minutes.
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_He edges her towards the door._) Ah, well, be as quick as you can,
dear. I'll wait down here for you.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
You--you _will_ wait, Henery?
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_Offended._) Gertrude!
MRS. WHEEDLES.
No--I didn't mean that, dear.
MR. BEN DIXON.
I know you didn't. I know you didn't (_pushing her playfully out._) And,
Gerty! (_she stops_) you haven't got the cherry coloured one still by
you?--the one you used to look so saucy in?
MRS. WHEEDLES.
(_At open door._) Yes, I have, Henery. I've never worn it since the day
you left me.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Put that one on, will you? Eh? (_They both laugh playfully and he pats
her cheek and she goes off--he watches her off then closes the door._)
Poor old soul! (_Looks at watch and collects his bag, umbrella, hat,
etc._) Now if that fool of a cab isn't gone I can just---- (_He has
his hat on and with his watch in his hand is opening door when--Enter
Cherry, who stands blocking his exit._)
Can't stop a minute, my dear Cherry; so sorry. Good-bye! (_Tries to
pass_.)
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Coming in and closing door._) Don't you say goodbye till you're clear
off. You've got to have a chat with me first.
MR. BEN DIXON.
My dear sir, I positively decline. I am not at all pleased with you;
I consider you have acted in a most unchristianlike manner. I am
disappointed in you, Mr. Cherry. More disappointed that I can say.
ADAM CHERRY.
Then don't say it. The less you say, the sooner you'll get off, and I
take it you want to get clear off before Mrs. Wheedles comes downstairs
again.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Mr. Cherry, I do. I frankly admit it. Mrs. Wheedles is an excellent
woman--a worthy woman, but--well, I put it to _you_, would _you_ like to
live with her--as a husband?
ADAM CHERRY.
Mr. Wheedles!
MR. BEN DIXON.
Don't be absurd, sir. How dare you misunderstand me? I mean am I to
blame for not wanting to?
ADAM CHERRY.
We won't go into that question. I am with you so far as to think that
she will be much better off without you, and I also admit that I have no
_wish_ to lodge an information against you on my own account--if we can
come to terms.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Come to terms! What do you mean?
ADAM CHERRY.
I mean I want £4,000 in notes or gold out of you before you leave this
house.
MR. BEN DIXON.
£4,000! Do you think, sir, that I'm a travelling bank?
ADAM CHERRY.
I know that you've made arrangements to go straight from this house
on an absconding tour to the continent, and it's not unreasonable to
suppose that under the circumstances you've got about you all the cash
you could scrape together. Anyhow, if I don't have the satisfaction of
getting the £4,000 out of you I'll have the satisfaction of handing you
over to the police.
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_Mounting the high horse._) My good sir, do you know the legal term for
what you are doing? "Endeavouring to extort money by threats." Are you
aware that that is an indictable offence?
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Putting his hands in his pockets._) All right. Indict away.
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_Looks at watch_.) Damn it, here's five minutes gone already. My dear
sir, do be reasonable.
ADAM CHERRY.
My dear Mr. Ben Dixon--or Wheedles--or whatever your name really is,
don't argue You are getting off uncommonly cheap. I say nothing about
the money you've swindled Mrs. Ben Dixon out of. I say nothing about the
money you've swindled me out of. But I want the money you've swindled
that poor boy and girl upstairs out of--and I mean to have it.
MR. BEN DIXON.
But if I haven't got it?
ADAM CHERRY.
Then you'll get five years' penal servitude for bigamy.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Dear, dear me, how Providence does seem against me to-day. Oh, this is
a beast of a house (_savagely._) What is it you do want? Be quick about
it? (_Slams down bag and umbrella and seats himself at table._)
ADAM CHERRY.
(_He has brought writing materials from sideboard and placed them_.)
I want you to write a pleasant little note to Ted and Nelly, explaining
the circumstances, and enclosing the £4,000, that's all.
MR. BEN DIXON.
Say £2,000, Mr. Cherry--£2,000 and a little something for yourself. I
should like to give you a little something for yourself.
ADAM CHERRY.
£4,000--or Bow Street. You'd better be quick. You wouldn't look well
with your hair short.
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_Gives him a look of intense malevolence and begins to write_) '.--"My
dear children, before leaving England, under circumstances needless to
be stated here, my thoughts naturally revert to my beloved ones."--Mr.
Cherry, I consider you to be a damned scoundrel.--"It has all along
been my intention to make good to you, my dear children, the loss
you sustained when Providence ceased to smile upon the Nonconformist
Building Society, Limited (_with concentrated rage._) My doing so leaves
me a comparative pauper, but do not grieve for me."
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Who is standing beside him, looking over._) That's rather needless,
isn't it?
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_Savagely_.) Shut up! (_Writing._) "Committing you, my dear beloved
ones, to the care of Providence, and trusting that one day we may be
all reunited in the bourne of the righteous, I remain your loving and
affectionate uncle, Henry." (_Lays letter down and addresses envelope._)
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Taking up and looking at letter._) Very good--very good indeed.
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_Snatching letter away, and putting it in envelope._) Hypocrite!
(_Takes out pocket-book and begins counting notes--pausing half-way
through._) It's a lot of money, Mr. Cherry, to put all at once into the
hands of two inexperienced young persons. Wouldn't it be better for us
to give them £2,000 now, and let me send them the rest later on?
ADAM CHERRY.
Don't be silly! You're wasting time. Mrs. Wheedles will be down in a
minute.
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_He gives Cherry another savage look and goes on counting; having
finished he puts them in an envelope._) All my little savings, and me an
old man. (_Is about to close envelope._)
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Taking it from him_.) You don't mind my counting them?
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_Wounded._) Do you mistrust me?
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Counting._) Merely a matter of form. £3,995 here, Mr. Wheedles.
MR. BEN DIXON.
(_He has collected his baggage, and is on the point of slipping off. He
now draws forth and hands Cherry another note._) I look upon you as a
common thief, sir, and if I was a young man, I'd----
ADAM CHERRY.
There's nothing further that need detain you, Mr. Wheedles.
MR. BEN DIXON.
I am going, sir. I shake the dust of this house off my feet. (_Opens
door at back and glances out, then turns towards Cherry and speaks in a
suppressed voice._) I should never have thought it possible that any man
could be so deceived in another as I have been in you. (_Looks out again
and then round._) I have no hesitation in describing you, Mr. Cherry,
as a blackleg--an experienced blackleg, sir. (_Looks out as before._)
I only hope that----- (_Hears noise, looks out, slips round door, and
disappears._)
ADAM CHERRY.
(He follows to door and looks after him.) Ah, well, I think that counts
one to you, Adam Cherry.
(_Enter Nelly._)
NELLY MORRIS.
Will you come upstairs and see my aunt before she goes, Adam?
ADAM CHERRY.
Oh, tell her, my dear, she can come down. It's all right now. Come in a
minute I want to speak to you. (_He closes door._)
NELLY MORRIS.
Is he gone?
ADAM CHERRY.
Yes, my dear.
NELLY MORRIS.
For good?
ADAM CHERRY.
Let us hope so. He is on his way to the continent. And (_giving to her
letter_) he left this letter, my dear, for you and Ted. I think you will
find the contents very satisfactory.
NELLY MORRIS.
It's the best thing that could happen, undoubtedly. I suppose he's
walked off with nearly all aunt's money?
ADAM CHERRY.
A good deal of it I'm afraid, dear. And he's not the only old man who's
had the idea of walking off with other people's property.
NELLY MORRIS.
(_With a laugh._) Have you been finding out any more of them?
ADAM CHERRY.
Yes, my dear (_turning towards her_). An old gentleman, my dear,
(_taking her hand and stroking it_) that was about to walk off with
a beautiful young lady who, by all the laws of love, was the rightful
property of somebody else. Only, fortunately, he was stopped in time.
(_Nelly looks at him and is about to speak. Stopping her, kindly._)
Don't say anything, my dear, it will be less painful for both of us. I
was an old fool; and you--you thought of others more than of yourself,
my dear. (_Lightly_) The property must be restored to its real owner,
and I must leave you, my dear, to make all necessary compensation for
temporary loss. See Jack and tell him you are free.
(_Enter Mrs. Ben Dixon, followed by Theodore._)
MRS. BEN DIXON.
We saw that old scoundrel sneak off. Is he coming back?
I fancy not.
ADAM CHERRY.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Did Mrs. Wheedles let him go?
ADAM CHERRY.
I don't think she knows as yet. She's got to learn it poor woman.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Poor soul! I must stop and say a kind word to her. I've been calling her
a lot of bad names. (_Suddenly_) Here, do you know what Ted's done?
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Alarmed._) Nothing rash?
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Well, it all depends upon how you look at it. He's, got himself engaged
to Primrose.
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Smiling meaningly._) Rather a good thing for him, isn't it?
(_Enter Primrose and Ted_.)
PRIMROSE.
(_Who has overheard Cherry's remark as she enters._) No, it isn't. You
mustn't think that at all, Mr. Cherry.
I haven't any money, we're going to give it all away. Ted doesn't want
me to have any.
MRS. BEN DIXON.
(_Aside to her._) Put it by, quietly, my dear, and hear what he says two
years after marriage.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
(_Who has been occupying an unobtrusive position, taking notes._) You
know I think it extremely uncivil of you; Ted, I had always regarded
Primrose as my own personal property. I had been "nursing" her, as we
say in the political world, for years.
TED MORRIS.
(_Laughing!_) I should have thought that a man of your age would have
got over all ideas of that kind.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
(_Laughing._) Besides, Theodore, I'm not literary. You know I read the
_Family Herald_.
THEODORE TRAVERS.
My dear Primrose, that's a great mistake people make. A literary man
doesn't want a literary wife. It would be like living with a critic. A
clever man wants a wife foolish enough to always admire him. We should
have got on admirably together. (_To Cherry_.) You haven't seen my
pocket-book about anywhere, have you, Cherry?
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Taking it from his pocket and giving it to him._) Yes, you left it
on the table. I took the liberty of glancing into it; you don't mind I
suppose?
THEODORE TRAVERS.
Not at all. Learnt how to write a comedy?
ADAM CHERRY.
Yes, and (_turning away_) how to live one.
NELLY MORRIS
(_Who has been reading letter._) Ted. (_He comes to her._) Mr. Ben Dixon
left this addressed to us. (_Gives it him_.) Read it.
TED MORRIS
Moral advice, I suppose. Why what--why here's notes for----
NELLY MORRIS.
It's the money you let him have to put in that building society.
TED MORRIS.
What, the whole £4,000! Nelly, we're rich! Primrose! (_She comes to
him._) Poor old Ben, he wasn't so bad. (_Nelly, Primrose, and ted talk
together near window._)
MRS. BEN DIXON.
That was very clever of you, Adam. I never thought of that. You're a
good sort, Cherry.
(_Enter Mrs. Wheedles, dressed somewhat extravagantly. She comes in
eagerly, then pauses at door and looks round. Her heart sinks._)
MRS. WHEEDLES.
Where's----
ADAM CHERRY.
Gone, Mrs Wheedles. It was only a dodge to get you out of the room that
he might bolt. Don't think any more about him.
(_Mrs. Wheedles sinks into a chair._ )
MRS. BEN DIXON.
Believe me, Mrs. Wheedles, it was the kindest thing he could do for you.
We are both well rid of him.
MRS. WHEEDLES.
(_Crying softly._) I believe you're right, ma'am.
TED MORRIS.
(_At window looking out._) Hulloa, here's Jack. (_To Cherry._) Shall I
ask him in here?
ADAM CHERRY.
(_Moving towards door at back._ ) No, dear boy. I'll send him up to you
myself.
NELLY MORRIS.
(_Who has exchanged glances with Cherry at the mention of Jack's name,
slips across quietly and meets him at door just as he is going out._) I
shall always love you, Mr. Cherry. You're such a grand little gentleman.
(_Cherry, taking her face between his hands, kisses her and goes out._)
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Prude's Progress, by
Jerome K. Jerome and Eden Phillpotts
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