The plays of St. John Hankin 1923

Front matter

saa waren pe fe eee

ETHAN POT ty)

UNIVERSITY COLLECE

Act I D 33

Aunt Ciara. I have not noticed that his health grows any worse. |

James [eagerly]. Oh yes, it does. He pimes, Aunt Clara, positively pzzes for a more bracing air. “The East Coast, for instance !

Aunt Ciara. Ah, James, always considerate. [Complacently.| But Robert will never go anywhere where he cannot constantly come and see me. That I am sure of. Indeed, it would not be good for him, he has so few distractions. |

James [depressed]. ‘That’strue. [Walks down and turns, brightening again.| But why shouldn’t you go, too, Aunt Clara? I’m sure it can’t be a good thing for you to remain in one place for so long together. Don’t you think a change would do you good?

Aunt Ciara [virtuously]. I was never a gadabout. _And I disapprove of this modern mania for change. Besides, with only my little annuity

James [znterrupting eagerly]. Yes, yes, 1 know. [Crosses to left of Aunt Crara.] But for Robert’s sake? You might take him with you, and of course I should be delighted to contribute :

Aunt Ciara [ patting his shoulder affectionately]. No, no, James. Your heart is ever generous, but in this case there is really no necessity. ‘The air here suits me excellently, and Robert is quite as well as can be expected. Besides, there 1s Margaret to be thought of. I could not leave her !

James. I'll look after Margaret.

Aunt Ciara, I am sure you would. I know how devoted you are to her. But Margaret likes to have her own family about her.

James [ruefully]. So she does.

[Crosses to writing-table and sits down.]

Aunt Ciara [affedtonately]. So you mustn’t think any more about this. It was generous of you to propose it, 34. : ACT I

Ihe Two Mr. Wetherbys but I am quite contented here. Living in your house, James, with Robert and Constantia coming in every day, I have everything that I need for happiness. [Wpes tear from her eye.| Ah, here is Robert.

Enter Roprrt, @ cadaverous shambling man of five and thirty.

Rosert [nods to James]. Good morning, Aunt Clara. You weren’t down for lunch.

Aunt Crara, No, I had a little soup in my room. I had a bad night.

Roger [sitting on settee, gloomily]. Ah, my insomnia is chronic.

Aunt Crara [bravely]. But we must not complain. On the whole my health is wonderfully good.

Rosgert. I wish I could say that. After the Otaheite mission meeting last night I felt positively faint.

Aunt Ciara. Did you see James?

Rosert. No, was he there?

Aunt Crara. Of course. You know his interest in Otaheite.

James [hastily]. Oh, in a large meeting like that it is So easy to miss a face.

Rosert [7 a hard voice]. 1 shouldn’t have called it a large meeting.

James [hurriedly]. Relatively large! Of course it wasn’t crowded.

Rozpert. I should think not. Why, there were scarcely a hundred people there.

James [judicially]. Indeed? I should have thought more than a hundred. [To Aunt Ciara, with rapid change of suljedt.] Shall I begin to read to you again, Aunt Clara?

Aunt Crara. Not now, thank you, it is almost time for my walk.

Rozert. By the way, James, I have here an appeal ACT 2 35 for a good object which may well claim your support. The Mahommedan Conversion Fund. A most deserving field.

James [zrritably]. Oh, come, I hardly think we need go as far as the Mahommedans to find a deserving objeé.

Ropert. I don’t see that. After all, Arabia is nearer than Otaheite.

James [zndifferently]. ..1 dare say.

Rogert. And as you took the trouble to go to the meeting last night—I can’t think how I came to miss you there ; by the by, where were you sitting ?—I should have thought

James [rising hastily and going over to him]. My dear fellow, you’re quite right. Converting the Mahommedans is a most useful field. Leave me that paper and I’ll look through it. [Takes paper and turns away.

Enter Marcaret with Aunt Criara’s bonnet and shawl.

Hullo, Maggie. Been lying down? [Kisses her.]

Marcaret. For half an hour.

The sun is shining brightly now, Aunt Clara. Hadn’t you better have your walk ?

Aunt Crara. I hardly feel up to it.

James [going up to her chair]. Oh yes, I really think you should, just a turn or two in the garden.

a [Helps her to rise.

Aunt Ciara. Very well, perhaps a few steps. [Js helped into bonnet and shawl.) And which of my dear nephews shall escort me? [Beaming.] James, I think.

James [hastily]. No, no, Aunt. Robert shall go with you while I look through this Mahommedan Appeal.

Aunt Ciara [much touched at this fresh evidence of self-denial]. Ah, James, always willing to deny yourself. Come, Robert.

Rosert [rising heavily]. Very well. Perhaps a gentle walk will do me good. [Exit Aunt Ciara fo garden supported by Ropert.]

ACT +I

[Marcaret escorts both as far as window. James with a sigh of relief goes to writing-table with Mahommedan Appeal, eyes 1t with strong disfavour, glances at a page or two, then with a wry face takes out cheque book and writes cheque. MArGarer returning from window goes to him, and noticing his depression, lays hand on shoulder.)

Marcaret. ‘Tired, dear?

James. A little.

[There zs a pause, during which MarGARET pats JAMES affedionately on shoulder while he fidgets with paper-knife.]

James [diffidently]. Don’t you think, Maggie, that Aunt Clara might sometimes go and stay with some one else?

Marcaret [puzzled]. Whom can she stay with?

James [hopelessly]. “Thats just it, whom indeed !

Marcaret. You see she Aas no one except us—and Constantia.

James. ‘That wouldn’t be much change for her ! Constantia’s always here anyhow.

Marcaret [gently]. Not much change certainly.

[There zs another perceptible pause.

James [with an effort]. Well then, Robert? Don’t you think he might come rather less frequently ?

Marcaret. My dear! He only comes to luncheon occasionally.

James. Half a dozen times a week,

Marecaret. No, no, James, only three or four.

James. Is that all? It seems oftener !

Marcarer [kneels by him, fondling his hair]. What's the matter with you, dear? You seem out of spirits.

James [taking her hand and pressing it]. It’s nothing, Only we never seem to get any time to ourselves, do we?

Marcaret. Not very much, perhaps.

James. And it would certainly be more comfortable if we did, eh, little girl? [Looking up at her face. ACT I 37

Marcarer [gently]. But we mustn’t think only of comfort, must we? : | James. What an angel you are! [Takes her hand and kisses it.

Enter SERVANT.

SERVANT. Mrs. Richard Wetherby.

James. Confound !

Enter CONSTANTIA, an imposing figure, handsomely dressed an black, rather as if she had gone into half mourning to mark her sense of her separation from her husband.

Marcaret [putting hand over his mouth]. Hush ! [Rises to greet her sifter.| Good afternoon, Connie. [Kzsses her.] ;

[They meet. ConsTantia crosses to James after kissing Marcaret. |

James [rising]. How are you?

Constantia [i her elaborate manner]. ‘Thank you, James, I am tolerably well. Has Richard arrived yet ?

James. Not yet.

Constantia. I am glad of that. I would rather be here to receive him. I shall feel more at home.

[James makes a face, which Marcarer observes, and turns towards garden window. |

Marcarer. Aunt Clara is in the garden.

James [hurriedly]. Yes. She has just gone out with Robert. [Insinuatingly.] Oughtn’t you to go and say “How do you do” to her? |

Constantia. Very well. Perhaps I had better do so. I shall not be long.

James [as soon as she is out of the room]. Pray don’t hurry. [Exit Constantia to garden. There is a third significant pause during which MARGARET crosses to settee. 38 ACT I

James comes to her, repossesses himself of her hand, and quietly sits by her side.| [Reflectively.] 1 suppose it wouldn’t be possible to get Constantia to move, would it?

Marcaret. Move?

James. Yes, go away from Norwood altogether.

Marcaret. Oh no, she likes being near us.

James [gloomily]. 1 was afraid so.

Marcaret [kissing him]. How silly you are this afternoon. I’ve never seen you like this before. Why shouldn’t Connie live near us?

James [petulantly]. Why should she? Why doesn’t she go and live with her husband like other women ?

Marearer. With Richard? But you know her principles.

James [bored]. Here’s another of them.

Marcaret [not understanding]. What, dear?

James [recovering himself]. Nothing. Only I seem to have heard rather a lot about principles to-day.

Marcaret. As a member of the Married Woman’s Protection League, Constantia naturally has a high ideal of a husband’s duty to his wife. A very high ideal. So has Aunt Clara. So has Robert.

James. ‘They’re a remarkably unanimous family.

Marcaret. Constantia would have considered it wrong to condone Richard’s infidelity.

James. ‘There was no proof that Dick was unfaithful.

Marcaret. What other explanation could there be of his late hours, his constant absences from home ?

James. Was he ever asked to explain them?

Marcaret. Of course. Constantia never allowed Richard to be out after midnight without demanding an explanation. She felt it to be her duty.

James. What did Dick say?

Marcarer. He Jaughed at her. [James shows a tendency to laugh also.| Jim! I believe you’re laughing too !

ACT I 39

The Two Mr. Wi. etherbys

James. Well, the interviews must have been rather comic. Constantia proclaiming the rights of women and the wickedness of husbands, and old Dick grinning away on the hearthrug. [Begins to laugh again.

Marcarer [shocked]. Oh, Jim! I never thought you would make a joke of such a thing.

James [pulling himself up]. No! No! Dick didn’t behave at all well. Still, I think Constantia might have managed him better.

Marcarer. Constantia never attempted to manage — her husband. She had too much sense of her own dignity. She merely insisted upon her rights. )

James. Rather a maddening attitude that ?

Marcaret. Richard was in fault.

James. Perhaps there were faults on Constantia’s side as well.

‘Marcarer [pained]. Oh, Jim, I thought you never judged people harshly.

James. No, no, dear. You misunderstand me. I only mean that perhaps Constantia did not show Dick much affection. She’s not what you would call a demonstrative woman.

Marcarer [gently]. 1 don’t think she ever failed in her duty.

James. A woman must do a lot more than her duty if she’s to make her husband happy.

Marcaret. Richard did not make her happy either, you know.

James. ‘That’s it, you see ! They’re quits.

Marcarer [affedionately]. It’s like you, dear, to try and defend Richard. You always make the best of everybody. Still he was greatly to blame.

James. I’m afraid he was. [Stight pause.] But you won't do anything to prevent a reconciliation, will you?

it. 40 ACT I

Marcarer. No. But you musin’t ask me to encourage

James [rises and comes forward]. Well, let’s hope they'll patch it up between them to-day. She’s not seen Dick for a year. And she must have been fond of him once.

Marcarer. What does Robert think?

James [haSiily]. Oh, I don’t think we need consult Robert.

Marcaret. By the way, Robert and I are ‘going to the great meeting at Lambeth to-night in aid of the Bishop’s Sustentation Fund. We shall dine in town. You won’t mind ?

James. What about Dick? He’ll be here. |

Margaret. It is because of Richard that I am going. I was afraid it might seem rather marked if I were out the only night he’s dining here, but what was I to do?

James [ériefly]. Not go, I suppose.

Marcaret. I couldn’t do that.. Of course, I don’t want to hurt Richard’s feelings, but I would rather not sit at table with a man who is living apart from his wife.

James. I should have thought it was no worse to sit at table with a man who is separated from his wife than with a wife who is separated from her husband. Constantia is here often enough !

Marearer [slightly scandalised]. The cases are hardly parallel.

James. I should think they weren’t! Considering that your sister is here all day and every day, I think you might manage to meet my brother at dinner once a year.

Marcaret [pause, rises]. I’m sorry you’re vexed, dear. I hoped you wouldn’t mind. [Pause.] However, it doesn’t matter. I'll tell Robert I’ve changed my plans, and he and I will both have dinner with you here before the meeting.

James. Heaven forbid! Robert was here at luncheon. He will be here to tea. I’m hanged if he shall dine here as well !

Marcaret. Well, dear, what can I do? I can’t very well disappoint Robert. It would be unkind.

ACT I 41

The Iwo Mr. Wetherbys

James [remorsefully]. What a brute I am! [Kisses her.] Of course you mustn’t. Dine in town by all means. Pll make your excuses to Dick, and we’ll go round to the club after dinner and play billiards. There, dear, I’m sorry I was cross. I suppose I’m out of sorts or something.

[Crosses to table.

Marcarer [crosses to JamES and caresses him]. Poor Jim ! You won’t mind dining alone with him, will you ?

James. Of course not, he won’t eat me. Besides, I shall have Aunt Clara.

Marcarer. Yes, I was forgetting Aunt Clara.

James. Happy woman ! [Szzs.

Marcaret [laughing]. You're evidently not well at all. I shall send for Dr. Long, and he’ll give you some ~ 4 horrid medicine. ‘That Otaheite meeting was over ever so late last night. I expect that tired you. | | [They embrace.

Enter by window Constantia, AunT Ciara and Ropert. RosBert enters behind Aunt Ciara, who leans on Constantia’s left arm. He Stands by the window gloomily observing the embrace, then turns away. Mar- GARET moves the arm-chair a little. CONSTANTIA, after depositing Aunt Ciara, comes to the settee. MARGARET goes to the window.

James [ruefully]. Interrupted again ! [Reses, and crosses the room.

[ConstanTiA seats herself on settee. Aunt CLARA is zn arm-chair. The latter resumes her crochet, RoBERT moons about. | a

Rosert [looking at watch]. Half-past four. ‘Time for tea.

James. Dick will be here direAly. a

Roser [unduously]. mafraid this will bea very painful meeting for all of us. 4 42 : ACT I

James. That reminds me. I expeé, Constantia, you’d rather have your interview with Richard in private ? [to Constantia, Sanding between her and Rozert.]

Roper [znterrupting]. 1 hardly think

James. My dear Robert, will you kindly allow Constantia to decide for herself? [To Consrantia.] Well?

Constantia. “Thank you, James, I think that will certainly be the best arrangement.

James. Very well, then. [Crosses to fireplace and Stands back to fire—rings bell.| Jane shall show Dick into the library. Margaret and I will go there and give him some tea. You, Aunt Clara and Robert will have tea here. After tea I will bring Dick here and leave you to have your talk with him in private.

Enter Marp.

_ When Mr. Richard comes show him into the library, and let me know.

Marp. Very well, sir. [ Exct.

Ropert. You are sure you would not rather have some one at hand?

Constantia. Pray do not be ridiculous, Robert. I trust I am able to conduct an interview with my husband without outside assistance.

James. Of course! And I hope the result will be to bring you together again.

[Constantia bows coldly.]

Aunt Crara. James!

James [hastily]. ‘That is, of course, if you are conscientiously able to forgive him.

Rosert [rises—grunts]. By the way, James, about that Mahommedan Appeal James [zmpatiently], Oh yes, I’ve looked through it. There’s a cheque in my pocket somewhere. Here it is. [Hands it to him.

ACT I 43

Roserr [sitting, after examining the amount]. ‘Thank you, James, I felt sure the good work would find a supporter in you.

James. Yes, yes, of course. Always glad to do what Tcan. [The front door bell rings.] Ah, that must be Dick. Ready, Maggie? [To Consranti4.] Then you will see

Dick alone here in, say; ten minutes.

MaAIp enters.

Marp. Mr. Richard is in the library, sir.

James. Very well. Take him some tea and bring some here. Come, Maggie.

Exeunt Marcaret and JAMES.

Aunt Ciara [seated by fireplace]. It must be very painful for dear James to meet his brother in these distressing circumstances. If only Richard were more like him. But the two brothers are gute different ! [Shakes her head mournfully.

Ropert. Richard is by nature incurably frivolous and vicious.

Constantia [calmly]. I do not think anything is to be gained by exaggerating my husband’s failings.

Enter Jane with tea. Moves table a little, puts down teatray, and brings down chair and puts it behind table.

There was always a regrettable levity about his behaviour which showed a tendency to increase with years. And, of course, his moral charaGter is scandalous. [Goes over to tea-table.] But, these defects are not necessarily incurable. ‘Tea, Aunt Clara?

Aunt Ciara. Thank you.

Constantia. ‘Take this to Aunt Clara, Robert.

[Roperr rises heavily from chair, gets tea and crosses to Aunt CLARA, 44 . ACT I

Aunt Crara. I am afraid Richard’s disposition always lacked the note of seriousness which is so beautiful in James. [Takes tea.|—Vhank you, Robert—I remember people used to joke about it. “They called Richard “The bad Mr. Wetherby” and James “The good Mr. Wetherby.”

[RoBert Stands by arm-chair.

Constantia. I remember. However, our separation will have sobered him, no doubt. = [Gzves Roperr his tea.

Aunt Ciara. Let us hope so, my dear.

Ropert [taking bread-and-butter]. Have you made up your mind what attitude to adopt towards him? If I might advise I should urge that you receive his advances with the utmost reserve. [Szts down on settee.

Aunt Crara. Yes, Robert is right. Do not allow your heart to betray you into any course which your reason would not approve.

Constantia [calmly helping herself to cake]. 1 think you may count on me not to err in that direction.

Aunt Crara. I am glad to hear it. Modern wives are far too ready to forgive their husbands. It is the cause of many unhappy homes.

Constantia [calmly]. I did not say I shall no¢ forgive Richard.

Aunt Ciara. My dear !

Constantia. On the contrary. It is my intention to forgive him this afternoon, after he has duly expressed contrition and asked for forgiveness.

Aunt Crara. But can you be sure that his repentance is sincere?

Constantia [philosophically]. Of course there can be no certainty in these things. But I see every reason why it should be. He must have felt our separation acutely. In the early days of our marriage Richard was by no means without tenderness.

Rosert [7 a hollow voice]. Constantia, is this wise ?

[He takes bread-and-butter.

ACT I 45

Constantia. I think so. After all, Richard is my husband. And I have not found my position since I decided to live apart from him altogether an agreeable one. Socially indeed it has great inconveniences, [Rises and takes AUNT Crara’s cup and places it on tray—seating herself again.] More tea, Aunt?

Aunt Ciara [making gesture of dissent]. Well, my dear, of course you must do what your conscience tells you to be right.

Ont. Exactly. I shall not pardon him too quickly. I shall just yield gradually to his protestations. [Eats some cake delicately.| After all,a year is a long time, and it is better to err on the side of leniency. [Pours herself out more tea.] A year ago, I felt obliged to leave Richard ——I could not endure his heartless behaviour. Indeed a wife who condones her husband’s irregularities is wanting in her duty. And at the time I intended never to return tohim. But one must not be vindi@ive. And the position of a woman who is separated from her husband is not a comfortable one. It hasall the disadvantages of widowhood without its compensations. Yes, on the whole I think Richard has been punished long enough. More tea, Robert ?

Roper [rising, and bringing his cup]. I fear you are leaning unduly towards mercy. [Pause.] I greatly fear it.

[Constantia pours out Ropert’s tea. He takes it and sits down again, taking bread-and-butter.]

Constantia. I am willing to take the risk. At lead I shall feel that I have done what is right in forgiving my husband. Besides, there are praGtical matters to be considered, the loss of income and so forth. When I left Richard J had to move into a smaller house and make other heavy sacrifices. ‘The allowance he makes me, though sufficient, is considerably smaller than the income I enjoyed as his wife, 46 ACT I

Aunt Crara. I don’t think you must allow that to weigh with you. After all what is money? Ropert [unduously]. What indeed ! ) [He takes more bread-and-butter.

Constantia [frigidly]|. My. dear Robert, of course I am above all sordid considerations in this matter. I shall do what I consider right in any circumstances. But there is no use in shutting one’s eyes to things. Aunt Ciara [dismally]. Well, well, my dear, I trust you will not find you have made a mistake. Constantia [coldly]. I do not usually make mistakes, I believe. I shall forgive Richard this afternoon after he has expressed his regret in suitable terms. Of course I shall speak to him very seriously and caution him as to his future conduct. But afterwards I shall forgive him.

Enter MARGARET.

_ Marearet [at door]. Richard will come to you now, Connie, if you are ready to see him.

Constantia. Very well.

[Pours herself out some tea.

Marcaret [gomg to Aunt Ciara and helping her to rise]. Come, Aunt Clara. Let me take you to your room. [To Roserr.] I think you had better go now, Robert.

Ropert. Certainly. [Putting cup on chiffonnier and finishing bread-and-butter.] [Exit Ropert sulkily. _ Marcarer [at door]. Jim will bring Richard to you in a minute or two. [Exet with AuNT Ciara.

[Constantia puts down her cup dire@ly they leave, rises, but hearing voices, sits on settee. There is an appreciable pause. Then enter James and Dicx. The latter is a handsome, careless, jovial-looking man of five-and-thirty, very cheerful and quite at his ease.]

Hy ACT 1 47

Dick [going up to Constantia and shaking hands}. How do you do, Con? Pretty well, I hope?

Constantia. Thank you. I am quite well.

Dick [cheerfully]. That’s right.

James [at door]. Now I'll leave you two together. You may have things to talk of alone, [Gomg.

Dick. Not at all, mty dear fellow. Stay by all means. Con and I have no secrets.

James [awkwardly]. But I think

[Gong again.

Dick. Nonsense, Jim. Sit down. What on earth should we have to talk about? Don’t be absurd. —

James [Still going]. Oh, but—Constantia said she would prefer to speak to you alone. .

Dick. Ah, that’s different. If Con has anything private to say to me I’m agreeable. I alwaysam. Off with you. I say, what time’s dinner? [Goes up to JAMES.

James. Seven. By the way, Margaret asks you to excuse her. She has to dine out.

Dick. All right. [Nods cheerily to James, who goes out.] Well, Con, what have you got to say to me, eh?

Constantia [with dignity]. Have you nothing to say to me, Richard?

Dicx. I think not. Nothing special.

Constantia. Then I hardly see the obje@ of this meeting.

Dick [cheerily]. Nor do I. But you arranged it, you know.

ConstanTiA [fy]. Pardon me !

Dick. No? Ah yes, I remember. You suggested every six months. I thought once a year quite sufficient. You see I was right. [Crosses behind settee.

Constantia [majestically]. This is not an occasion for levity.

Dick. My remark was not intentionally humorous.

48 ACT I

[There ts a pause during which Constantia shows signs of wmpatience. Dick, quite at his ease, rolls over to fire and warms himself. Presently he takes up framed photograph of James which Stands conspicuously on mantelpiece. |

I say, what a beastly piGture of old Jim! Don’t you think so? [Holds zt up.

Constantia [icily]. It seems to me a satisfactory likeness.

Dicx. No, it’s so smug and solemn. Poor old chap, I expect he has a pretty boring time of it down here, eh?

Constantia [with elaborate sarcasm]. 1 have not heard him complain.

Dick. I dare say not. He’s a patient sort of chap is old Jim. [Shakes his head at photograph as he puts it back on mantelpiece. Then seats himself in arm-chair. There as another awkward pause.]

Dicx. By the way, do you Sill like living in Norwood, Con? GhaStly sort of place I used to think it.

Constantia. It suits me well enough. I like to be near Margaret and James.

Diex. Ah! Do they like that?

Constantia. Certainly.

Dick. Oh! [4 pause.) You're tolerably contented then, take it all together ?

[Consrantia Lows.]

That’s right. So am I. | Constantia. Of course a wife who is separated from her husband can never be very happy.

Dick. No doubt. But a husband who isn’t separated _ from his wife can be tolerably miserable too. _ Constantia. Yes, marriage is a tragedy. Dick. Just so, with comic relief, Constantia [impatiently]. Pray be serious. _ Dick. My dear Con, I never am serious. Why on earth should I be? re 0 E 49

Constantia. Don’t you understand that by adopting this frivolous tone you are letting a golden opportunity slip ? i

Dick. No. Hang me if I do.

Constantia [rising with dignity]. Then no good can come of our continuing this interview.

Dick [rising also]. Of course not. What did you expect ?

Constantia [exasperated]. 1 expected that you would at least have seen the propriety of expressing regret for your past conduét and promising amendment in the future.

Dick. What would have been the use of that ?

Constantia [bitterly]. Oh, nothing. Nothing that — interests you at all, I suppose. Only it might have led to a reconciliation between us.

Dick [by fire, raising his eyebrows]. 1 see. [Deliberately.| 1 confess that possibility had mot occurred to me !

Constantia [fly]. Indeed !

Dick [politely]. Still, it’s very good of you to suggest It.

Constantia [turning hotly]. 1 did not suggest it.

Dick. Oh! I thought you did.

Constantia [angrily]. What I said was that had you suggested it

Dicx. Yes, yes, of course. What I should have said was it would have been very good of me to suggest it. No, that’s not right either. Still, I appreciate the generosity of your offer.

Constantia [crossly]. I made no offer.

Dicx. Dear me, I’m afraid I express myself very clumsily. | Constantia [savagely]. You certainly do.

[Szts on settee.

Dick [crosses near settee. Blandly]. You must put it down to excess of emotion. When a man has been separated from his wife for a year, and there is a suggestion 50 ACT I

Ihe Two Mr. Wetherbys

_ —if that is the right word—that she might return to his roof he naturally feels it acutely. The affection implied in such a proposal—no, not proposal, hypothesis—is very moving.

Constantia. I said nothing about affection. Dicx. But it was surely implied?

Constant [sternly]. No, Richard. Please understand that my, [Pauses for word.

Dick [sweetly]. Mention?

- CONSTANTIA. —my mention of a reconciliation was in no way due to affection. Had I returned to you it would _ have been solely because I considered it my duty. Dick [insinuatingly]. 1s that quite a satisfactory foundation for domestic happiness ?

Constantia [zmpatiently]. I was not thinking of happiness. [There is a pause.

Dick [calmly]. Well, Con, I won’t ask you to make _ such a sacrifice.

Constantia [virtuously]. I don’t mind sacrificing myself,

Dick [quietly]. Ah! I do! _ Constantia [rising angrily]. Then there’s nothing more to be said.

Dick [holding out hand]. Except “ good-bye,” Con— Hall next year.

__ [Constantia refuses hand and sweeps out with dignity. _Dicx stands looking after her with a grim smile, The front door closes sharply. |

CURTAIN act 1 aT

ACT

SCENE.—The Dining-room at the James WETHERBYS’. Dinner is half over. At the table in the middle of Sage are Aunt Ciara, facing audience, JAMES at one end, Dick at the other. The side of table next the audience zs empty. The room is the conventional suburban dining-room; windows curtained behind Aunt CLARA, side- — board behind Dicx, fireplace flanked by two leather easy chairs behind James. Door on the left.

- Pause. The Matp hands two sweets. James, who looks bored and ill, helps Aunt Ciara to jelly. Drcx helps himself. James refuses.

Dick. My dear chap, you eat nothing, [A#tacks jelly — on his plate.| Does he, Aunt Clara?

Aunt Ciara [coldly]. James has never a large appetite. James. I’m not hungry to-night. .

Dick. That’s bad. [Filling his mouth.] There’s no- — thing like eating! It helps a man through life wonderfully. James. No doubt. | Dick. In fact it’s very morbid not to eat. It’s not at alla thing to give way to. [To Matp.] Bring me some | more of that. [Helps himself.

James. My dear Dick, what nonsense you talk. Dick. I dare say. If you talked more nonsense you | wouldn’t look so beastly seedy. Eh, Aunt Clara? | [Attacks food.

Aunt Ciara [coldly]. I had not noticed that James was looking unwell.

Dick. He does though. And he looks beastly serious 52 ACT Il too. ‘That’s bad. A man should never be serious at meals. Indeed, I’m not sure he should ever be serious at all.