The lie; a play in four acts

Front matter

By HENRY ARTHUR JONES THETHEATRE OF IDEAS

A burlesque allegory and three one-act plays: The G oal; Her Tongue; and Grace Mart.

THE FOUNDATIONS OF A NATIONAL DRAMA

Dedication

to

MISS MARGARET ILLINGTON

Dear Margaret Illington:

Act I

Scene: Drawing room at Shale Abbey, a lofty room in a fourteenth century building. At back is a large mullioned windoiv, giving a view of a north midland landscape at sunset in Winter, At a distance of about two hundred yards is the Dower House, a small, unpretentious eighteenth century building. On the right side centre is a door. On the left side down stage is a huge fireplace, with burning logs on the hearth between large brass dogs. Above fireplace left is a handsome oak staircase leading off left. The first four steps are shown, and mount to a landing. A door shuts off the remaining steps. The walls of the room are weather-stained and cracked. The room itself is rather barely furnished with a few pieces of handsome old oak ftirniture. The time is about four on an afternoon in late November. Discover Hamp, dozing in a large arm-chair above the fire. He is about sixty-five, with a coarse, surly, humorous face which gives evidence of drink. He is slovenly in his dress and habits, and independent in his manner and speech. He is slightly, but not very obviously, tipsy. A bell is rung impatiently off stage. A pause and the bell is again rung more impatiently. Another pause. Enter MiSS PiNjSENT L. She is about thirty, very well dressed, with the manners of a good class London shop lady. She enters quickly and is evidently in a temper.

Miss Pinsent. Oh, there you are, I've been ringing my bell the last half hour.

Hamp. [Draws himself up out of his sprawling attitude, but does not rise.] You're one of them folks as want too much attention in this world.

Miss Pinsent. [Looking at him indignantly.'] Is that your attitude in the presence of a lady?

IIamp. No. This is my attitude to yomig persons out of shops.

Miss Pinsent. I'll have you to know that I'm here as a visitor, by Miss Shale's invitation.

Hamp. Excuse me. You're here as a dressmaker, to mend up Miss Shale's dresses, and to make more work for Gibbard and me.

Miss Pinsent. While I am here, I am a member of the family.

Hamp. Not by lawful holy wedlock in church. [Shaking his head at her.] Far from it!

Miss Pinsent. [Indignantly.] Oh! [Goes to bell and pulls it angrily.] You've been drinking, I suppose.

Hamp. Now it's no use you're asking me that. Because not a drop do you wheedle out of me. [She again pulls the bell violently.] If you don't take care, you'll break that bell-rope, and bell-ropes are scarce at the Abbey.

Miss Pinsent. I will thank you to keep your insolence to yourself. [Still ringing. The bell-rope comes down.

Hamp. There! What did I tell you?

[GiBBARD enters, at door R. She is nominally the parlour maid at the Ahhey, hut at the present moment is general servant and drudge. She is a country girl and is in working morning dress, with her sleeves turned up.

Miss Pinsent. Gibbard, I've been ringing for an hour.

Gibbard. I've got other things to do beside wait on you. There's all cook's work.

Miss Pinsent. My fire has gone out. Hamp. Got a scuttle of coals in your pocket, Gibbard? The young lady is afraid of getting chilblains. Miss Pinsent. I can't sit there without a fire. Gibbard. I can't help your fire going out, miss. I haven't started with the dinner.

[Exit Gibbard at door B.

Hamp. There, you see!

Miss Pinsent. I've never been in a house like

this

Hamp. No, and you never will be again. So you make the most of it while you've got the chance.

Miss Pinsent. Is there anybody to bring some coals to my sitting room?

[Sir Robert Shale enters, B. He is about seventy-five, hict is sturdy and well preserved, of the English country gentleman type. He has, however, become rather coarse in manners through association with his inferiors. He has a country, weather-beaten complexion, which is marred by his drinking habits. He is by turns jovial and irascible, very autocratic omd unreasonable. His dress is rather old and shabby. A foxhound cub follows Mm. Hamp has risen quickly at his entrance, before Sir Robert perceives him. He pulls himself together and his manner changes and becomes respectfid. Miss Pinsent. [Continuing so that Sir Robert can hear.] When Miss Shale returns I shall tell her of

your insolence

Sir Robert. What's the matter, Hamp? Hamp. Well, Sir Robert, from the way this young person orders the servants about, you'd think the Abbey belonged to her.

Miss Pinsent. I merely asked you to take some coals to my sitting room.

Hamp. Ordered me, Miss. And ordered me in a very haughty, aggravating way. And pranced

about

Miss Pinsent. I did not prance.

Hamp. [Correcting her with emphasis.] And pranced about, Sir Robert. [Giving an exaggerated illustration.] And rushes up to the bell-rope and pulls it with that violence. [Picking up the bell-rope from the floor.] I had to expostulate with her.

Miss Pinsent. Sir Robert, I've been sitting there without any fire.

Sir Robert. We're all obliged to rough it a little, now we're short of servants. You aren't very comfortable at the Abbey, Miss Pinsent? Miss Pinsent. No, I'm not.

Sir Robert. You're like the rest of us. We're none of us very comfortable, are we, Pompey?

[Caressing the hound.

Miss Pinsent. When Miss Shale invited me she said, "We shall treat you as one of ourselves."

[Horror on Hamp's face.

Sir Robert. That meant that we should have to

treat you to a good many inconveniences, eh, Pompey?

My granddaughter ought to have told you

Miss Pinsent. She did. And I've tried to make myself agreeable [Hamp exhibits the hell-rope to Sir Robert in comment], and fall in with your ways.

Sir Robert. I'm afraid that's difficult for a young lady in your position. We've been at the Abbey for six hundred years, and our ways take a good deal of falling into, don't they, Pompey?

[Elinor enters B. She is about twenty-four, healthy, good-looking, hut with an anxious, unsatisfied and slightly care-worn expression. She enters with outdoor clothes, takes them off as she speaks and throws them over chair. There is a little pause as she enters and she looks around. Elinor. Is anything the matter?

Miss Pinsent. I wish to go back to London tomorrow, if you please.

Elinor. Oh, Miss Pinsent, that's quite impossible. You promised to stay till you'd made my new evening dress. [Looking anxiously at Sir Robert, who is playing with Pompey, and then at Hamp.] What has happened?

Miss Pinsent. This man has been grossly insolent to me.

Hamp. Insolent? The young lady has done nothing but ling her bell all the afternoon. Gibbard and me can't always be dancing attendance on her.

Miss Pinsent. [Indignantly.] Oh!

Elinor. Never mind, Hamp. Please see about getting tea.

Hamp. And when I expostulated with her, she vented her rage on the innocent bell-rope.

[Showing the hell-rope.

Elinor. I'll inquire into it by and by. Please get the tea. [Hamp solemnly deposits the hell-rope on a chair, glaring at Miss Pinsent as he does so. Exit Hamp at door B.

Elinor. I'm so son-y! I know Hamp is dreadfully rude.

Miss Pinsent. I'll finish your blouse to-night, but I must leave the other dresses.

Elinor. Oh, I can't hear of it ! We'll do all we can to make you comfortable. Bring your work in here.

Sib Robert. My dear Elinor!

Elinor. Yes, Grandy. [To Miss Pinsent.] We'll make this your workroom for the present.

Miss Pinsent. I'm sure I'd better go. [Exit L.

Sib Robert. So you're going to turn the Abbey into a milliner's shop?

Elinor. Yes, for the next few days.

Sir Robert. And I suppose I'm to be the confounded shop-walker?

Elinor. Now, Grandy, don't be naiTghty! If I'm to go to the County Ball, I must get an evening dress from somewhere.

Sib Robert. When my clothes get shabby, I don't invite some damned tailor to come and stay with me. I hunt up a new man. Can't you give somebody in Waventry a turn?

Elinor. They can't make an evening dress in Waventry. And we've hunted them all too much. I was ashamed to walk down the High Street this afternoon.

Sir Robert. What did you do about the summons for that confounded cook's money?

Elinor. I paid it. And eleven shillings costs. Then I had two and three pence left.

Sir Robert. And she was such a rotten bad cook! Sends us up pheasant without any bread sauce, and then county-courts us for her wages. I suppose Hamp will be the next one to send in an ultimatum.

Eliistor. Oh, no ! Hamp will never leave us. He knows he'd never get another situation. And I shall never get another situation. [With great bitterness.

Sir Robert. You'll get married some day, I suppose?

Elinor. Get married? What chance have I down here? With no money to go about, and nothing to make me look nice! With bills owing everywhere, afid everybody fighting shy of us! Oh, my God, I'm shut in here; I'm shut in this awful prison, and there's no way out of it!

Sir Robert. [Caressing the hound over the fire.] England began to go to decay in eighteen-thirtytwo

Elinor. Oh, never mind England ! It's I who am going to decay! It's I who am wasting all my life in this hole ! Will no one come and take me out of it — buy me for a slave — or — something — anything — anything! [Bursts into tears and sits crying.

Sir Robert. That was the fatal year for England — eighteen-thirty-two. My old grandfather warned them. He saw what was coming!

Elinor. Then why didn't he stop my being born? Grandy, I* can't bear this much longer. [With a sudden revulsion, laughs at herself.^ What's the use of saying that ? I've got to bear it.

Sib Robert. Your Aunt Kate ought to take you.

Elinor. She has Lucy. It's very good of her to have one of us. But I'm sorry now that I let Lucy go. I was the elder, and Aunt Kate did give me the first chance. I ought to have taken it, but Lucy over-persuaded me. And I thought I was doing a splendid, generous thing for Lucy. So I was. But I was doing a very foolish thing for myself. Self-sacrifice is a mistake.

Sir Robert. By Jove, yes! I've found that out, all my life.

Elinor. And Lucy will many some rich man — she's clever enough.

Sir Robert. Well, why shouldn't you? Why don't you set your cap at young Forster, now he's back in England?

Elinor. Oh, don't talk like that!

Sir Robert. He seemed to take a good deal of notice of you at Lady Betchworth's the other day.

Elinor. He said he'd call. That was over a fortnight ago.

Sir Robert. He's like the rest. Looks down upon us because we're poor. By Jove, yes, and there's that old frump. Lady Betchworth! [Getting into a sudden rage.] I could tell some tales about her when she was young. And I will, too! I'll let everybody know! They're all alike! The only one of the whole set that looks up to me is that little snivelling teetotal curate! And he began to lecture me. By God ! The little rabbit began to lecture me ! He did, Pompey !

Elinor. What about?

Sir Robert. Said he'd seen me coming out of the "Shale Anns."

Elinor. Well, I suppose he had.

Sir Robert. Yes. And he'll see me again. Why shouldn't I? Good comfortable old English Inn, and my own property!

[Elinor looks at him, makes a helpless, despairing gesture, then goes to him.

Elinor. Grandy, this can't go on! We must pull ourselves out of it somehow. Won't Cousin Jack do something?

Sir Robert. Not a sixpence. That's a pretty nephew for you. If he was the true English breed, he'd cut off the entail and make my old age comfortable.

Elinor. We must let the Abbey.

Sir Robert. We should get a few hundred a year, and all the tradespeople would be down on us like vultures. No; young Forster is our sheet anchor. We'll ask him to dinner.

Elinor. We've no cook; and if you were to

Sir Robert. If I what?

Elinor. If you took a glass too much

Sir Robert. Glass too much! You're as bad as that little toad of a curate. We'll ask young Forster to dinner. Only you must get rid of your dressmaker friend.

Elinor. Miss Pinsent must stay till she has made my evening dress.

Sir Robert. Nonsense ! Pack her off and get a smart one from London. There's your mother's locket and cross.

Elinor. No. She gave me them for my daughter — if I ever have one. I'll never part from them.

Sir Robert. [Looking around at the room.] We'll get rid of this old rubbish

Elinor. We have got rid of it. If we sell any more, what will the place look like?

Sir Robert. Well, yonng Forster is our only chance, so mind you play your cards well.

Elinor. Oh, don't talk like that ! You make me feel I'm trying to trap him. And I think [Very softly and tenderly] I could really care for him.

[Enter Hamp ivith the tea things.

Hamp. The case of poi't has just anived, Sir Robert.

[Laying the tea things.

Elinor. Port?

Hamp. Shall I open it?

Sir Robert. Yes. We'll sample it for dinner.

Hamp. Yes, Sir Robert.

Elinor. Tell Miss Pinsent that tea is ready.

Hamp. Yes, miss. [Exit tipstairs L.

Elinor. You've been ordering some port wine? Where from?

Sib Robert. There's a new wine merchant just started at Waventi-y. He sent me a circular, and asked me to give him a trial. So I did.

Elinor. Poor man! [Sir Robert is going off, followed by the hound.} You're going out?

Sir Robert. Yes, my dear. I promised Burton I'd see him about the new kennels for the hounds.

Elinor. At the "Shale Arms," I suppose?

Sir Robert. I daresay I shall find him somewhere about. [Hamp has reentered hy staircase.

Hamp. The young person seems to be huffy about my expostulating with her. She's packing her boxes.

[Lighting the lamps.

Sir Robert. So we're going to lose her? Hamp. Yes, I'm afraid, Sir Robert.

[Exchanging a look of understanding with Sir Robert.

Sir Robert. I thought we might. Come along, Pompey.

[Exit at door with hound as Miss Pinsent comes downstairs from door L.

Miss Pinsent. I've thought it over, Miss Shale, and I'm sure I'd better leave to-moiTow morning.

Elinor. Oh, no! I can't let you. Well, sit down and have some tea now. [Miss Pinsent sits.

[Hamp has lighted lamps, glaring at Miss Pinsent. lie now goes to table and picks up hell-rope, glaring at Miss Pinsent.

Hamp. I suppose I'd better send into Waventry and get a man to put our bell-ropes in order.

Elinor. Please take that away and bring in some more logs for the fire.

Hamp. Yes, miss.

[Goes out B., glaring at Miss Pinsent.

Elinor. [At tea table, pouring out tea.] Now, Miss

Pinsent, I shan't let you go. The doctor ordered you

a change, and Madame Duvernay gave you three weeks

to stay with us at the Abbey.

Miss Pinsent. You said I should be one of the family.

Elinor. I think I have ti'eated you as one of the family, and you mustn't take any notice of Sir Robert and the servants.

Miss Pinsent. I really couldn't put up with it for another 'fortnight.

Elinor. I've put up with it for a good many years, and I shall have to put up with it — all my life, I suppose.

Miss Pinsent. [Genuinely sympathetic] I'm so sorry for you !

Elinor. Then won't you stay for my sake? If you don't, I can't go to the County Ball. And I do want to look nice, just for once. Won't you stay? [very pleadingly.] If I asked you as my friend

Miss Pinsent. [After a little pause.] Yes, I will stay.

Elinor. That is good of you. Thank you so much! I think we might start upon the evening dress at once.

Miss Pinsent. You didn't decide which one you'd have.

Elinor. No; but eight poxmds is my very utmost limit.

Miss Pinsent, Then it will have to be the plain gray.

Elinor. Yes, I suppose. How much did you say the brocade would be?

Miss Pinsent. Twelve pounds.

Elinor. Oh, I wish I dared! No; we owe so much money. It must be the gray. It will look very well?

Miss Pinsent. Oh, yes! Of course, not like the brocade.

Elinor. Oh, if I No, no, no! That's settled.

Now, after tea yoii shall bring all your work in here, and we'll have a jolly evening.

Miss Pinsent. I hope Sir Robert won't mind.

Elinor. I'm afraid he'll be at the "Shale Arms" till dinner. And after — he may be very merry, or very bad-tempered. You mustn't take any notice.

Miss Pinsent. [Rising from tea table.] I'll go and unpack, and then I'll come down.

Elinor. Yes, do. Bring the patterns of the brocade. Bring them all. I can look at them if I can't afford them.

[Exit Miss Pinsent. Left alone, Elinor shows contentment, and poses as in an evening dress, looking down at the folds of her present dress, arranging and draping them. GiBBARD, still in her working dress, enters R., with her sleeves turned np.

GiBBARD. There's a gentleman asking for Sir Robert. Elinor. What did you say?

GiBBARD. I told him Sir Robert was out. Then he asked if you were at home, and he said: "Will you tell Miss Shale that Mr. Forster has called?"

Elinor. [Shows great vexation.] Why didn't you show him in? And, Gibbard, when you are in that dress you should let Hamp go to the door. Where is he?

Gibbard. Hamp's in the cellar, and give strict orders he wasn't to be disturbed.

Elinor. Show Mr. Eorster in, and, Gibbard, change your dress before you show him out.

[Exit Gibbard B. A few moments later she reenters, showing in Gerald Forster. Gerald is a rather tall, handsome, distinguished man, about thirty-five. Gibbard. Here is the gentleman, miss. [Exit.

Gerald. How d'ye do?

Elinor. How d'ye do? [Shaking hands.] You find us in a muddle to-day. We're short of servants. Do please excuse it. Let me give you some tea.

Gerald. Thanks!

Elinor. I'm afraid it's rather cold. Shall I ring for some more?

Gerald. No, please don't. I'll take it as it is.

[They sit down to the tea table.

Elinor. I'm soiTy my grandfather is out, but I daresay he'll be back before you go.

Gerald. I'm afraid I can't stay long. I'm motoring to the junction to catch the express. I oughtn't to have called in such a casual way.

Elinor. Oh, yes! ]\[ilk? Sugar?

Gerald. Veiy little milk, and very little sugar. When I get back from London, will you allow me to call again?

Elinor. Yes; we shall be pleased. But I'm afraid you'll still find us in a muddle, and we shall still be short of servants. I'm telling you this because I'm sure everybody else must have told you, and you know all about us. So it's no use trying to hide it.

Gerald. I shall be glad to come and take you just as I find you now.

Elinor. Well, to do ourselves justice, we aren't alwaj's quite so much upside down as we are to-day. Sometimes our butler is in e\ddence; and sometimes he is fairly presentable. And sometimes — in fact, nearly always — we have a cook. Though not often a very good one — not one we could ask you to dinner iTpon

Gerald. Tiy me. You don't know the kind of dinner I get ten months of the year in Egypt.

Elinor. Not so bad as you'd get hei-e. I'm telling you all this because I'm sure you've heard it already.

And if you mean to know us

[With an anxious glance at him.

Gerald. Of course I mean to know you. When I came back to England, there was so much to do on my estate I hadn't time to see my neighbours. I meant to call the day after I saw you at Lady Betehworth's, but I had to go up to London, and I didn't get back till last night.

Elinor. You're a very busy person.

Gerald. I am. There's my estate here — that's one man's work. Then there are the ii-rigation works in Egypt — that's three men's work, at least.

Elinor. You haven't much time to give to your friends here, now you are back in England.

Gerald. I'm not in England to look after my estate. I came home to get my plans passed by the Government. As soon as that's done, I'm off to Egypt.

Elinor. For long?

Gerald. I hope two years will see me through. Then I shall come back and settle down here for good. I don't know why I'm talking about myself.

Elinor. Because it interests me. Another cup of tea? Do you spend much time in Cairo?

Gerald. A month or two sometimes. Then six months right away in the desert.

Elinor. I should love to go to Cairo. I should love to go anywhere away from the Abbey.

Gerald. Why don't you come out next winter? You'd easily find a chaperon.

Elinor. [Shakes her head sadly.] But I couldn't easily find any money. When do you go back to Egypt?

M THE LIE

Gerald, I've two more months at home. I leave on the Thursday after the County Ball. You're sure to be there?

Elinor. Yes, indeed! I'm seeing about my dress already.

Gerald. I should have gone back earlier, if you hadn't spoken about the County Ball at Lady Betehworth's.

Elinor. [Her face lights up with a rare flash of pleasure.] Would you? Shall you be down here much before you go back to Egypt?

Gerald. That will depend upon whether I get my plans through easily. I shall run down here whenever I can spare the time. [Rising.] I hope I shall see something of you.

Elinor. Yes, I hope so. You're not going?

Gerald. I must catch the express.

[Looking at watch.

Elinor. I'm sorry my grandfather hasn't come in.

Gerald. Perhaps you'd bring him over to dine with me one night?

Elinor. We shall be pleased.

Gerald. I can find him a bottle of old port

Elinor. I hope you won't. I mean — if we are to know each other, it's better you should understand.

Gerald. I do understand.

[Takes her hand very kindly.

Elinor. Poor Grandy! He's old, and

Gerald. He's a century behind his time. We mustn't blame him for that. Then I shall see you at the County Ball— and before?

Elinor. But you're down here so little.

Gerald. I shouldn't have come down now, only I promised you I'd call

Elinor. [Her face lights iip again.] You didn't come down on purpose to call on me?

Gerald. I had a few other things to do; but they could have waited. [A long pause.] An revoir.

Elinor. I'll see you to the door.

Gerald. No, I won't let you. I've known my way about the Abbey since I was a boy. [Exit.

Elinor. [Goes to the open door, calls off.] Gibbard, please show Mr. Eorster out. [Comes down with a radiant face, laughs a little, low, satisfied laugh, dances a few steps, pulls herself up.] Don't be a lunatic! [Miss Pinsent enters at door L., with a blouse nearly finished and several large patterns of evening-dress materials.

Elinor. [Eagerly.] Miss Pinsent, I will have the brocade — I'll go to the twelve pounds.

Miss Pinsent. I'm sure you won't regret it.

Elinor. [Bright, eager.] Show it to me again! Show them all to me again!

Miss Pinsent. [Displays the patterns.] It's so much handsomer than the gray !

Elinor. That's very handsome. [As Miss Pinsent spreads out patterns.] So's that. I wish I could have a dress of every one.

Miss Pinsent. Has anything happened?

Elinor. No. Why?

Miss Pinsent. You look so happy.

Elinor. I am. I'm delighted to think I shall look nice for once in my life.

Miss Pinsent. You will, I'm sure.

[Lucy enters suddenly B. She is a very pretty girl, a year or two younger than Elinor. Her manner now is absent and distracted; ordinarily she is insinuating and pleasing, hut watchful and a little feline. She is exceedingly well and coquettishly dressed, in outdoor winter clothes with furs.

Elinor. Lucy! Lucy, old girl! Wliy what — what

brings [Rushes up to her and kisses her heartily.]

I am glad There's nothing the matter?

Lucy. No.

Elinor. I thought you were at Worthing with Aunt Kate.

Lucy. She has gone back to London. Elinor. Why didn't you let us know you were coming?

Lucy. I thought I'd give you a surprise. Elinor. Well, you have, I am glad. This is my friend, Miss Pinsent, from Madame Duvernay's. She has kindly come down here to fit me out for the winter.

Lucy. How d'ye do?

Miss Pinsent. How d'ye do?

Elinor. I was getting so shabby. You're sure nothing has happened?

Lucy. No. What should there be?

Elinor. We haven't heard from you for nearly a month.

Lucy. I hate letter writing. So I thought I'd come and have a day or two with you.

Elinor. I am pleased. Look ! That's to be my new evening dress. Don't you think it will look handsome?

Lucy. [Paying little attention.] Veiy. I should think it would suit you.

Elinor. Ah! You're used to pretty dresses. What splendid furs ! And what a pretty hat !

Lucy. One must look decent.

Elinor. Never mind. You'll see what Miss Pinsent is going to make for me. Now, Miss Pinsent, it's going to look as if it came straight from Paris?

Miss Pinsent. It will be an exact copy of one of our latest Parisian models.

[Lucy makes a sign to Elinor to get rid of Miss Pinsent.

Elinor. Miss Pinsent, couldn't you write up for the materials to-night? [Looking at writing table.] No pen and ink, as usual !

Miss Pinsent. I can write it in my own room.

Elinor. Will you? And send it off to-night.

Miss Pinsent. Very well. I'll write it at once. [Exit Miss Pinsent by stairs L.

Elinor. Thank you. [To Lucy.] I'm so glad to see you! Those furs are lovely. [Looking at Lucy.] Lucy, there is something the matter!

Lucy. Nell, old girl, I'm done for.

Elinor. Lucy!

Lucy. It's all over with me.

Elinor. How? Tell me.

Lucy. You remember Dick Tallerton? [Elinor hesitates.] He used to come to Aunt Kate's when you were staying with us.

Elinor. Yes. I saw his death announced in the paper last week.

Lucy. Yes, he's dead. That's the awful thing of it.

Elinor. Why?

Lucy. He was engaged to me.

Elinor. Engaged to you? He was engaged to Lady Willindon's girl. He brought her to Aunt Kate's.

Lucy. He was engaged to both of us. But he would have married me.

Elinor. You were very fond of him?

Lucy. I suppose I was.

Elinor. I'm so sorry! It must be a great disappointment. Still, he wasn't quite the man I should have thought you'd choose.

Lucy. What was the matter with him?

Elinor. Wasn't he — rather notorious — and fast?

Lucy. He was the heir. When Sir Thomas Tallerton died, I should have been Lady Tallerton, with twenty thousand a year.

Elinor. Yes. Of course you're very much cut up. But you're young, dear — and pretty. You'll get over it in time. I'll help you bear it, darling.

Lucy. Someone has got to help me. My God, it is rotten luck!

Elinor. I don't understand

Lucy. He was engaged to Maud Willindon

Elinor. Yes?

Lucy. They were to be married in the spring. He daren't break it off. But I'd got him right enough.

Elinor. Tell me all.

Lucy. Dick and I were to get away to Paris and be married there. Then he was to write his people and tell them. We were to go to some quiet place in the South and stay there some months. Then we were to go to the East and travel for a year or two. When we came back nobody would have asked when my baby was bom.

Elinor. Baby! [Overwhelmed.] Lucy! Lucy!

Lucy. Don't row me ! I can't stand it.

Elinor. I won't row you, dear; but — it's terrible! [Pause.] Tell me everything.

Lucy. Three days before we were to start, Dick was taken with typhoid fever. It was all over in a week. And to think — I should have been safe by now — safe — with the title and eveiy thing clear in front of me. And now ! Did you ever know such rotten luck ?

Elinor. I'll help you, dear.

Lucy. I knew you would, old girl!

Elinor. What's to be done?

Lucy. I don't know. I'm pretty sick of it. Once or twice I've nearly ended it.

Elinor. No, no! You mustn't talk like that.

Lucy. It's awful. I can't sleep, except with the morphia.

Elinor. Lucy, you haven't taken to that?

Lucy. You find yourself in my mess, and you'd take to anything.