Geraldine's treachery : a play in five acts

Act I

LAW OFFICE OF BERT HAMILTON. 1 desk. 1 desk chair. 6 client chairs. 1 floor mat. 1 waste basket. 1 wall hook. 1 old fashioned leather couch.

1 door.

2 windows.

1 book case with books. 1 telephone.

Act II Home Of Harry Dean

Tenement flat of 2 rooms.

Kitchen, main room.

1 cupboard.

1 old style commode where confession is hidden.

1 large round table with cloth cover (large) where Geraldine is hidden after murder.

1 baby cradle.

1 stove.

3 plain chairs. 1 rocker.

1 long hall that can be seen from audience. 1 door leading from hall into kitchen. 1 window looking from hall into kitchen. 1 door from kitchen to bed room.

1 large bed.

1 plain dresser.

1 small stand with clock.

1 door leading into hall from bedroom.

Act III

HOME OF GERALDINE GARR. An elaborate parlor scene, with blue and gold furnishings.

An Oriental cozy corner, hung with gold and silver drops, where Geraldine hides Harry Dean so he can see his wife pass in inner room in company with Bert Hamilton.

1 large door opening in back parlor where oldfashioned fire-place can be seen by audience.

Act V, Scene I Home Of Harry Dean

Lapse of ten years. 1 elaborate furnished library.

ACT V, SCENE II Street scene. Winter setting and snow.

ACT V, SCENE III Same as scene I.

In five Acts and three Scenes.

Time Present.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Bert Hamilton A young attorney in love with

Geraldine Carr.

Harry Dean A young clerk in the employ of

Geraldine's father.

Grace Dean Harry's wife, at one time Geraldine's friend.

Gladys Dean Daughter of Harry and Grace.

Geraldine Carr. . . . Daughter of a wealthy banker, in love with Harry Dean.

James Man servant.

Jane Maid servant.

Act I Bert Hamilton's Office

BERT HAMILTON— (Enters office, hangs up hat and coat, speaks while toying with letters on desk.) I must and shall have an answer from that woman today. My patience is about exhausted. Why was I so unlucky as to fall in love with Geraldine Garr? She still cares for this man Dean, and must have some object in asking me to wait six months. She is as deep as the sea and yet I love her. She has nothing to gain, absolutely nothing. Three months ago no man was climbing the ladder of fame faster than I, and now I cannot get my senses together long enough at a time to do one good day's work. My love for this woman will be my ruin. God, I feel like murdering this man Dean with his handsome boyish face. Bah! he is a puppet. Think what Geraldine's money and her father's influence would do for me, but without her they would be as nothing. Why can she not listen to reason and become my wife at once? I would take a month's vacation out in a quiet village, where the noise and rattle of the city are not known, and what a heaven on earth it would be ! Bah ! I am day-dreaming. I must try and work today. There is the McGlellan case, that must be seen to today; also the Jones case needs attention. I cannot put them off any longer. I must get my senses together long enough to accomplish something. Some one is coming down the hall. Another client I suppose, but I hope they will pass by, for I am in no mood to talk business with anyone today.

GERALDINE— (Enters.) Good morning, Bert. My, what a frightful mood you must be in. Business rushing?

BERT — Yes, rushing by the door. Excuse me, Geraldine, everything is in disorder, but this is an unexpected pleasure I assure you. It is an old saying that "great minds run in the same direction." I was just thinking of you.

GERALDINE— Bert, I don't believe you are a bit pleased to see me, and your face does not speak of pleasure. Your thoughts could not have been pleasant ones.

BERT — Excuse me, Geraldine, but I owe you an apology for not offering you a chair; the old office chairs are not much to offer though the best I can afford.

GERALDINE— 0, they will do; really, Bert, you have a very lax office boy. I notice the dusting has not been done. You are too easy.

BERT — Never mind, Geraldine, darling. You say my face wears an unpleasant expression. You perhaps know the reason why. 0, come darling! Why not tell me your object in waiting so long. See, my business is dropping off. I cannot work, nor am I the same man. If you would but explain, Geraldine; please tell me your reason for waiting.

GERALD1 NE— -Bert, have a little patience ! Why can you not be reasonable? You have not known me a year yet. I came this morning to tell you a story. No doubt you have heard part of it — not a pleasant one I assure you. Bert, dear, I want you to help me. I can trust you and you are the only one who can help me. So small a favor I ask, then your answer comes : it will please you. Say you will do anything under the heavens for me, Bert. Ah, I knew you would.

BERT — Go on, Geraldine. I knew you had an object for coming. I will do anything and everything that lies in my power. Geraldine, darling, you will not keep me waiting three long, weary months, but continue your story.

GERALDINE — Are we alone, Bert? Listen, then, I will tell you my story. First you have heard that my father is the richest man in New York. I am his only child, having never been denied one wish. Ah, Bert, I can hardly tell you.

BERT — Don't try, Geraldine. It does not interest me. No doubt I know too much now, and don't care to hear of your love for another man, but you have strayed away from the subject. I am anxious to grant your favor and receive your answer.

GERALDINE — Have you the patience to hear a woman's lovesick story and then give her your help? About two years ago a young clerk came to work in my father's office, by name Harry Dean. He was poor but, 0, so handsome. I shall never forget the first time I saw him. Ah, Bert, the feeling is still there. I drove by in my car to call for father, and Harry Dean came out to tell me that father was busy. 0, God, if I could but forget! I looked in his face and only heard a part of what he said. It was that father would not keep me waiting long. He returned to the office and I waited just an hour. Yes, Bert, I was dreaming. The time did not seem five minutes. I could see that bright handsome face, those great blue eyes and refined features. I woke up to realize that this boy had stolen my heart. Then father came. As we drove home I asked of this boy. Father said he was poor but ambitious — had come to him highly recommended. Wait, Bert, you must listen. I will make the story short. I had father ask him to dine with us the next evening and I dare not think how it ended.

BERT — Geraldine, why do you tell me all this? I love you so it is not pleasant to me. Will you not forget this man and become my wife? You know I have social and political prestige, and in a few years will be placed where I can give you every pleasure the world affords, and I swear to make you happy. This man Dean never loved you, my darling. Look, my business is going to hell. I cannot work, you are on my mind each hour in the day. Your face appears on all my papers. Gome, give way and become my wife.

GERALDINE— stop, Bert. I must and shall tell you all, so you will understand why I seek your help. My love for this man has made me a fiend. Once I had as true and tender a heart as ever God gave woman but now I spend hours dreaming of nothing - but revenge. You will help me, Bert. I will continue the story. Harry Dean came to dine with us and came every evening for about five months. Every time he came and went my love grew stronger. There was not a cloud in the sky. One bright beautiful morning I arose early and while out on the terrace I received a letter. I can remember how pleased I was. It was from my dear girl friend whom I had not seen since we parted at school — bright, laughing Grace Elliott. She was coming to visit me. How could I wait for the evening to come and with it Harry! I was so anxious to tell him the grand good news, and that evening when I told him there came a smile to his face and he said in a joshing way: "I might fall in love with her." I laughed too. Impossible ! I was so sure he loved me and meant to ask me to Become his wife. But at last the day arrived for her coming, and two girls were never more pleased to embrace each other. I thought I would not tell her of my love, but keep it as a surprise, and when Harry came that evening I introduced them. Think, Bert, I stood by and saw his blue eyes grow brighter and larger, and from that hour on he never was the same. Ha! ha! It was love at first sight, and wherever Grace was he followed like a little puppy dog; you could find him at her heels. Yes, she stole him from me, and I never will be content until I make her suffer as I have done. But not him, no, not him. I would not harm one hair in his head. It is her I hate, and 0, so bitter!

BERT — Calm yourself, Geraldine! Why tell any more? No good can come of my knowing it, and revenge will help none. You seem to forget the favor I am to grant. Can you not come to the point at once?

GERALDINE — You say give up. No, never! See my plans fall to naught? Bert, you shall help me. You will understand there is not much more to tell. She, this friend of mine, had just visited me one month. I dare not think of it. They planned to meet early one morning and remained away all day. When they returned, and he presented her as his wife, I nearly lost my reason ; but an inner voice whispered to me — be silent; your time will come. And from that hour, night and day, I have planned and schemed. Now the time I have waited and longed for is here. They have been married just one year and ten months. I have kept trace of them and find they have one child — a little girl. They are very poor and she, his darling, becomes more dissatisfied every day. I shall call on her today, but not as her friend — God, no! only to work her ruin and downfall, as she heedlessly worked mine. 0, Bert, what a pleasure it will be to see her head bowed in shame? Ah, I can hardly wait.

BERT — Geraldine, why excite yourself! I see now the favor that is expected of me. I am to help work this woman's ruin. I do not like the idea. I ask you now to stop where you are.

GERALDINE — Bert, you must not and shall not fail me! My one thought is to make a beggar of this woman who stole my love. Listen, dear, your part is not much and it means so much to me. You are to be at my house this evening at nine. I will plan to have her there and without her husband. I will call there this morning and take her by surprise. Of course I will make a great fuss over her and pity her very much. Offer my friendship and she will be easily handled. As I am leaving, just as an afterthought, I will invite her to this party I have planned. Of course he will not attend, but she will. You shall meet her there, seemingly fall in love with her, flatter her — all women like flattery. You will be her escort to the party, with the understanding that I am to be with her but in the next carriage; then I shall remain at home. I shall have work to do. Your part in our little drama is not hard; then I can prove that she attended the party without me and with you, her lover, as an escort. You shall be innocent — you thought her single.

BERT — Geraldine, I do not quite understand. What can you gain? If you love this man yet, how can you love me and become my wife? What good will it do you to break up this home and ruin this woman's life? And that is your object if I guess right. It is bad business.

GERALDINE— What can I gain ? Revenge! Ah, how sweet the word sounds. I have waited two long years, and now you would be soft-hearted, but I suppose I can get some one else that will help me for the same reward that I offer you. There is one other I know of who will gladly help me. But really, Bert, listen ; I was beginning to think a great deal of you, and it hurts me to see you take the part of a coward. Of course you can suit yourself.

BERT — You tempt me sorely, Geraldine. You offer the greatest prize a man can be offered. But continue, I have not heard all your plans. Yes, my darling, I will help you. When do we start?

GERALDINE— (Aside. I thought so, poor fool.) Today, Bert, at once; it cannot be too soon. I have waited so long. Ah, Bert, she is a simple little fool, and will be so easily handled. You must be on guard and not allow her to see your love for me. You are to pose as a very rich man, and in love with her at first sight. If she finds you care for me that would be ruinous to our plans. Remember the hour is nine. I will have everything arranged. I was just thinking how handsome you are growing of late Bert. I shall be real proud of you as my husband.

BERT — Do you really mean it, my darling? But, Geraldine, a man's wife and home is all that he has that amounts to a great deal to him, and I confess I don't like to take part in the breaking up of this little home that may mean so much to this man. We are all human at times, and that old rule that we were taught in our childhood days : "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." God, what I would not do to the wretch that would break up my home or cause your ruin, my darling !

GERALDINE— (Aside. Poor fool, he will never have the home to break up when I get through with him.) Well, I might have expected this. Your nerve is failing you. Bert, dear, it is hard, but 1 must say good bye, and I don't like to think I may never see you again, as I had already planned our happy future. (Aside. Will the fool never come to my terms?)

BERT — If you but mean what you say, my darling, you must not talk of leaving me. Geraldine, the love of a woman will compel a man to do most anything — to sink as low as a dog. Sometimes a man will even become a thief just for the love of a woman; but if that woman be a good pure woman, in the sight of God, that man may soar to the highest goal in life, but we men are as clay in the hands of the moulders. We can be moulded into various shapes and forms all through the one little thing — love — and what we won't do when love compels, God only knows. How I love you, Geraldine, and to prove this love I will take the downward step, but God forbid that I may ever go far enough to have too large a stain against me that it cannot be wiped out on that day of judgment. But' what am I to do with this woman after the party?

GERALDINE— Just leave that to me, Bert. Why, really, I admire you. I did not know you were such a sincere man, but I am really proud of you.

BERT — We have to be sincere at times to gain our point in life.

GERALDINE — Your word that you will never reveal my plans or break faith with me. You know money does a great many things. You would much sooner have my love than hate. Gome, swear to me!

BERT — If you keep your word to me, Geraldine, there will be no cause for me to break faith with you; but God forgive me for my part in this day's work.

GERALDINE— (Aside. Why, how theatrical Bert is becoming!) But really, Bert, God will have nothing to do with this day's work, and I am anxious to begin. After you have taken her to the party, return her to me. I shall manage the rest. My friends are ready to attend this party on ten minutes' notice, whenever I think the night is fit. You take the rest of today for laying your plans and so arrange your business that it can be left for a while and when I have finished with her, my friend, I will join you. You will be there, don't fail!

BERT — You may depend upon me. I will not fail you ; but, darling, you will not keep me waiting long when you have separated them? When your revenge is completed, then you will come to me, my darling?

GERALDINE— Yes, Bert, the time will not be long. I must say good bye. Nine P. M. sharp, this evening. Don't let it slip your mind, dear.

BERT — Good morning, Geraldine. I will be there.

GERALDINE— Good morning, Bert; don't keep me waiting.

GERALDINE (Aside, as she exits.) Yes, fool come and do my dirty work. Why, really, he is easier handled than she; but if I can get Harry he will look as nothing to me,

BERT — (left alone.) Will she be true to her word? She must. No, I will not fail her; but this is bad business. Who would think that a minister's son, brought up and taught to walk that right and narrow path, would for the love of a woman, forget that kind old father's teaching! How many, many times have I heard my father say, whom God has joined together let no man put asunder. No, no, Geraldine, I cannot, cannot do it. Gome back, you must release me. (Goes to door and opens it.) No, she is out of hearing. God, how can I do it? Too late now, I cannot be released. I must live up to my promise, though it be the ruination of my soul. Soul! has a dog like me a soul? Bah! too late to talk about my soul. I have cast the die, but deep in my heart I pity this little family which I am to help set apart. And the child — what in the name of heavens will become of it? I dare not stop and think. (Looks at watch.) Ten-thirty, I must go to court and arrange my business for an immediate departure.

Act II Home Op Harry Dean

Opens with Dean's wife on the stage.

GRACE — 0, how I hate to be the errand boy, the servant, anything and everything! If I have to continue to live this life much longer I shall surely lose my reason. At first it was not so bad, when we had the dear little cottage, but now it has come to two rooms. My father had more in his wash house at home than we have here. I might have expected this. Married a poor man for love! 0, dear, love is all right as long as poverty is not a part of it. If I had only learned to work; but work — I never thought I would have to work brought up as I was, and to think what I have brought myself to. I hate to admit that I become more hateful and dissatisfied every day. I shall not work today; no, I will take this one day off and read. This new book has such a grand title, "Rosaline's Lover." I shall have six hours to read until Harry comes. Strange how I can forget all this misery by reading. Poor Harry, I do love him. He was so sure my father would come to our assistance. Mean old bear. I knew better. I, his only child! What pleasure can he have in knowing how I am situated and not even come to my assistance? Now, just hark, I do believe that is baby. She does not sleep ten minutes at a time. 0, what a cute wee baby you is. Mama's little lamb. I do love baby. If it were not for her I would leave at once and go back to my old home. Yes, I just hate it all. 0, no, no, I do not mean it. How wicked of me ! Leave Harry, so good and kind. Why, he is the most patient husband woman ever had. I just wish I was half as good and patient, but I am afraid I will never be. No, baby, your Mama has no patience, but for heaven's sakes close your eyes and I will sing a lullaby and dream of the dear old home! How I wish we could all live there — you and I and papa. Now, I am sure that was some one at the door. I do hope it is not Geraldine. Her note said she would call soon, but she is so proud and scornful I hate to have her see my poverty. (Grace opens the door.) Ah, Geraldine, I never expected to see you again. It has been such a long time, but come in. I do not like you to see my poverty.

GERALDINE — (enters.) 0, never mind your poverty, my dear. Are you not glad to see me? I see, you are day-dreaming again. The same old tricks, Grace, that will make you old and wrinkled.

GRACE — Yes, Geraldine I know, but tell me have you seen or heard of my father of late? Harry is not at home, but sit down and stay a while.

GERALDINE — (dusts chair.) I am just as well pleased. Harry does not care for my company, and but for you Grace, I should not have come. I have so much to say to you, my dear, but surely Grace, this is a joke — come down to living in two rooms. (Laughs.) Surely Harry can do better than this.

Why, let me look at you, dear. Yes, I believe you look ten years older and no wonder. Why really Grace I feel as though I was in a small band box. How do you ever endure it?

GRACE — Geraldine, do not dare laugh at me. You know I would have it different but Harry is out of luck and can do no better. Geraldine, you really do not mean I am getting to look so old? I do worry some, but Harry is so good and kind I do not like to complain.

GERALDINE— Why worry, Grace? You chose your lot, now stick by it. Grace, you stole your husband from a girl whom I know. She would have made him rich and her god, but why tell you now. You poor abused darling. I did not mean to laugh at you or hurt your feelings. Poor little friend of the olden days. I have thought of you so many times, and now when I find you situated like this it really breaks my heart. I have been thinking of our happy school days so often of late, and I said this morning I must go and offer my help and friendship. You know Grace I was real spunky to think you did not let me be your bridesmaid. Why really, Grace, there is a wrinkle on your forehead, and if you don't soon have a change from this you will have a score of them. Gome, darling, you need cheering and a good true friend and — what is this Grace? 0, the dear little lamb! Why, see Grace, it knows I am its mama's friend. See, she smiles at me and she looks just like her pretty mama, Grace. She has not one look of Harry, and how I shall love her. Her name Grace?

*

GRACE— Baby's name is Gladys Geraldine.

GERALDINE— (on the side. How dared she give that brat my name? Me love her offspring? No, I just wish I dared murder her, but I must calm myself.) Grace, dear, how long has it been since you have been anywhere? A long time, I am sure. I have a pleasant surprise for you. I came to invite you and Harry to attend the moonlight party I am giving. It is something entirely new and will be grand. Don't say one word until you have heard me out. If Harry should refuse to attend, which he might, if I try real hard I might plan a way for you to go, and what a lovely time you shall have my dear. Now, don't say that you will not come.

GRACE — Geraldine, why do you come here and tempt me ? You know that Harry will not hear to it, and should my father hear that I were to be one of the party he would be there, and I cannot give him the satisfaction of seeing me appear in the same wardrobe he bought me and I have had nothing new in the past year. You need not look so surprised, Geraldine.

GERALDINE— Why should I not be surprised? Think of it, Grace! But you shall have something, and if Harry will not listen to reason don't allow him to spoil your pleasures. Remember, Grace, you are not a child. Your father will not attend. He has not been well of late. Dear little friend, I am so anxious to do something for you. I have a pleasant surprise for you. You shall have a beautiful new gown for this party. Now, come, don't be proud, as poverty and pride do not go together. Say you will accept and use your woman's right and go. Your answer, Grace?

GRACE — Geraldine, it would be delightful and you are so kind to offer me the gown, but really I hate to tell you my husband becomes more fond of me every day. I cannot leave his sight one hour of the day. What excuse could I offer? He will not take me I am sure, and I confess I should like one evening's pleasure.

GERALDINE— (On the side. Little fool, I shall punish her for telling me of this love for her. How can he be fond of her babyish face? I would not have believed they would live together this long, but if my scheme works, revenge, sweet revenge. Now, for the policy role.) You shall have one night's pleasure, dear, yes, you shall have a dozen nights' pleasure. Ah, such pleasure as you least expect. But, Grace, I don't believe you are as fond of me as in the old days. It hurts me, for I think so much of you. I have really been unhappy since we have been separated, and I would like to make life more pleasant for you. Listen, Grace. Do you know I have just the right plan, and if you can play your part, I will manage mine well. Harry will never find out. I shall send a message, saying I am quite ill and you know Harry is so goody-good he will not refuse to let you come and hold my poor aching head. Trust the rest to me, dear. Ah, trust me to the end. Now, I had almost forgot to mention my friend, Mr. Bert Hamilton, I want you to meet him. So handsome and rich; the very type of manhood. I know you shall like him.

GRACE — You forget Geraldine, I am married, and should care for no man but my husband, but I shall be pleased to meet him as your friend,

GERALDINE— Why, you silly child, you must not take me as I sound, but as I mean. 0, see Grace, I have been here more than two hours, and must say good-bye for a short time. You will come? Say you will, dear.

GRACE — I will try Geraldine, so you may send a message, but I don't like lying to Harry. It is not quite right. You don't know how kind and good he is, but then I am getting just a little tired of this poor life and dull time and I hate living in two rooms.

GERALDINE — Who could blame you, my bright beautiful bird, but you look for the message most any time and you will not fail me. I will see you safe home again and make all excuses to Harry. Bye-bye until the party.