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CHARACTERS OF THE COMEDY
a widow
"The Church Times ."
"Sir Digby Soame ."
Ah,
minutes late.
I am worried, anxious, irritable, and that has made the time seem long.
Worried, anxious ? And what about ? Are you not
well ? Have you found that
regularity of life ruins the constitu-
tion ?
No, my dear
that the existence which my wife enjoys, and which I have learnt
to endure, would not suit every one.
I am glad to find you more tolerant. You used to hold
the very harshest and
most crude opinions. I remember when we
were boys, I could never persuade
you to accept the admirable
doctrine that a reformed rake makes the best
husband !
income as folly ! This may explain that paradox.
You know, in
young, whereas
you entered the Diplomatic Service and resolved
to remain single : you
wished to study women. I have lived with
one for five-and-twenty years.
Oh, I admit at once that yours is the greater achievement
and was the more
daring ambition.
I know all I wish to know about women, but men
puzzle me extremely. So I
have sent for you. I want your
advice. It is
afraid that he is
not happy.
have never refused him anything ?
Never ! No man has had a kinder father ! When
he is unreasonable I merely
say "You are a fool, but please your-
No man has had a kinder
father !
self !"
Does he complain ?
He has hinted that his home is uncongenial —yet
we have an excellent cook !
Ah, thank heaven every night and
morning, my dear
for sinners and breeding
them would seem the whole duty of
man. I was no sooner born than my parents
were filled with
uneasiness lest I should not live to marry and beget an
heir of my
own. Now I have an heir, his mother will never know peace
until she has found him a wife !
And will you permit
same method with
appalling results in your own case ?
It does not seem my place to interfere, and love-
affairs are not a fit
subject of conversation between father and
son !
But what does
He seems melancholy and eats nothing but oranges.
Yes,
Does
My wife would regard a second thought on any
subject as a most dangerous
form of temptation. She insists that
he
complains that the house is dull, she takes him for a drive !
But
I think I do. If I were young again —
Ah, you regret ! I always said you would regret it if you
did not take your
fling ! The pleasures we imagine are so much
more alluring, so much more
dangerous, than those we experience.
I suppose you recognise in
and feel
that you have missed your vocation ?
all have our
moments, I own, yet — well, perhaps
inherited the tastes which I possessed at his age, but lacked the
courage to obey.
And so you wish me to advise you how to deal with
him ! Is he in love ? I
have constantly observed that when
young men find their homes unsympathetic,
it is because some
particular lady does not form a member of the household.
It is
usually a lady, too, who would not be considered a convenient
addition to any mother's visiting-list !
are the scourges of creation. You, perhaps, do not share that
view !
Certainly not. I would teach him to regard them as the
reward, the
compensation, the sole delight of this dreariest of all
possible worlds.
upsettting ? Pray do not use such extreme terms !
Ha ! ha ! But tell me,
your wife insists on his retiring at eleven and rising at eight ?
I hear that she allows him nothing stronger than ginger ale and
lemon
; that she selects his friends, makes his engagements, and
superintends his
amusements ? Should he marry, I am told she
will even undertake the office
of best man !
Poor soul ! she means well ; and if devotion could
make the boy a saint he
would have been in heaven before he was
out of his long clothes. As it is, I
fear that nothing can save him.
Save him ? You speak as though you suspected that he
was not such a saint
as his mother thinks him.
I suspect nothing. I only know that my boy is
unhappy. You might speak to
him, and draw him out if occasion
should offer but do not say a word about
this to
drummond
What !
Digby ?
him to pay some calls this afternoon, and
as he may have to talk I
must tell him what to say. He has no idea of making
himself
pleasant to women, and is the shyest creature in the world !
You have always been so careful to shield him from all
what decision, what
energy he might display, if you did not
possess these gifts in so
pre-eminent a degree as to make any
exertion on his part unnecessary, and
perhaps disrespectful.
Ah ! mothers are going out of fashion. Even
occasionally shows a certain impatience when I venture to
correct
him. As if I would hurt any one's feelings unless from a sense
of duty ! And pray, where is the pleasure of having a son if you
may not
direct his life ?
parents if you may not disobey them.
never
makes flippant remarks of this kind.
mond.]
impression of your character.
think I
see your drift,
established in a home of his own.
You have caught my meaning. As he is now two-and-
twenty, I think he should
be allowed more freedom than may have
been expedient when he was—say, six
months old.
I quite agree with you, and I trust you will convince
Herbert that women
understand young men far better than
their fathers ever could. I have found
the very wife for
and I hope I
may soon have the pleasure of welcoming her as a
daughter.
A wife ! Good heavens ! I was suggesting that the
boy had more liberty.
Marriage is the prison of all emotions, and
I should be very sorry to ask
any young girl to be a man's gaol-
keeper.
The presence of a third person has the strangest
effect on
a care and tenderness rarely bestowed nowadays even on a girl, I
think
I may show some resentment when I am asked to believe
him a being with the
instincts of a ruffian and the philosophy of
a middle-aged bachelor. No,
he does not
make his home and his family the happiest in the
world !
Yes ?
He has no taste for cards, horses, brandy, or actresses.
We read together,
walk together, and drive together. In the
evening, if he is too tired to
engage in conversation, I play the
piano while he dozes. Lately he has taken
a particular interest in
elevating, and I know
of nothing more agreeable than a musical
husband.
You see she is resolved on his marriage, and she has
had
the hope of bringing matters to a crisis.
And why not ? Our marriage was arranged for
us, and what idle fancies of
our own could have led to such perfect
contentment ?
house, and who spends her time hunting for
old lovers and new
servants.
I own that dear
and women who are not fit companions for a young girl, no
matter how interesting they may be to the general public. Only
ville
to dinner. Still,
extraordinary antiquity.
But the mother ? If she has not been in the divorce
court, it is through no
fault of her own.
admit; but as she has at last decided to marry
banker, I am hoping she will live in his house at
think a little more about
her immortal soul.
Does
strong in the expression of his feelings one way or the other.
But I may say that a deep attachment exists between them.
A man must have sound wisdom before he can appre-
ciate innocence. But I
have no desire to be discouraging, and I
hope I may soon have the pleasure
of congratulating you all on
the wedding. Good-bye.
What ! Must you go ?
Yes. But
what you say. I will do my best. I
have an engagement in
town to-night.
At the
nassus
A theatre much favoured by young men who wish to
be thought wicked, and by
young ladies who
good-bye.
goes
out
Thank goodness, he is gone ! What a terrible
come in.
appeal to youth and inexperience. That you should
encourage
such an acquaintance, and even discuss before him such an
intimate matter as my hope with regard to
painful than astonishing.
They are both too young to marry. Let them
enjoy life while they may.
often observed that there is a lurking taste for the vicious in every
Doldrummond.
I knew we should surprise you. But
house-hunting, and I
thought I must run in and see you and
bringing
prospect of my marriage that
keep him always with us. We have
known each other so long.
How should we spend our evenings without him ?
they would be tedious,
don't you,
Certainly, my dear.
learned to regard
as we advance in years, it is
so pleasant to have young people
about us.
never have struck me in that light before ! I have
always thought
of
admit that he is a little young for the responsibility.
leaves
in fifty-five minutes.
mond.]
which the
you
and I shall tell
But it is so amusing to think ourselves mysterious for
twenty
minutes.
say to myself,
cannot feel
sufficiently thankful that it is not the third.
The third ?
To face the possibility of a third honeymoon,
a third disappointment, and a
third funeral would tax my courage
to the utmost ! And I am not strong.
I am shocked to see you so despondent. Surely you
anticipate every happiness
with
Oh, yes. He has money, and
him a very worthy sort of person. He is a little dull, but then
middle-class people are always so gross in their air when they
attempt to be
lively or amusing ; so long as they are grave I can
bear them well enough,
but I know of nothing so unpleasant as
the sight of a banker laughing. As
butlers
should always be serious.
Do you think that the world will quite understand —
What do you mean,
have an adviser.
my future husband's friend. Surely that should
be enough to
satisfy the most exacting.
But why marry at all ? why not remain as you are ?
How unreasonable you are,
have you urged me to marry
arranged and
I thought that you liked
Better than
as that, nor would
poor. My husband, as you know, left nearly all his
money to
he made on me is spent upon
doctor's bills alone. If it were not
for
and
other little things from time to time, I could not exist at all.
wipes her eyes with a point-lace
pocket-handkerchief
think of all that I endured
with
roused from a sound sleep to see the room illuminated and
I only hope that I may keep her always with me.
How she must have improved ! When she is
at home I find her so depressing.
And she does not appeal to
men in the least.
I could wish that all young girls were as modest.
Oh, I daresay
to see in some other woman's daughter. But if you were her
mother and had to find her a husband, you would regard her virtues
in
another light. Fortunately she has eight thousand a year, so
she may be able
to find somebody. Still, even money does not
tempt men as it once did. A
girl must have an extraordinary
charm. She is so jealous of me. I cannot
keep her out of the
drawing-room when I have got callers, especially when
Mandeville
I have heard of
singer.
A lovely tenor voice. All the women are in
love with him, except me. I
would not listen to him. And now
they say he is going to marry
should like to
know who would care about him or his singing,
once he is married.
And who is
Don't you know ? She is the last great
success. She has two notes : B flat
and the lower G— the
orchestra plays the rest. You must go to the
her. To-night is the dress
rehearsal of the new piece.
And do you receive
No, women take up too much time. They
come and practise in my
boudoir. He says no one can accom-
pany him as I do !
I hope
goes to your house.
Let me see. I believe I introduced them.
At any rate, I know I saw them at
luncheon together last week.
At luncheon together !
sings ? What could my boy and
They both appear to admire
very much. And I cannot find what men see in her. She is not
tall and
her figure is most innocent ; you would say she was still
in pinafores. As
for her prettiness, I admit she has fine eyes, but
of course she blackens
them. I think the great attraction is her
atrocious temper. One never knows
whom she will stab next.
midnight. He
refused to answer my questions.
You seem absent-minded, my dear
We have not a moment to lose. We are
going to choose wedding
presents.
to choose
thought of that way out of the difficulty. One does
one's best to
be nice to them, and then something happens and upsets all
one's
plans. Where is
I am afraid
Then I shall not see him. Tell him I am
angry, and give my love to
you
when you are in the drawing-room and have visitors. So
difficult to keep a
grown-up girl out of the drawing-room. Where
can those men be ?
along ; we haven't a
moment to lose. Good-bye,
he has met her through the
one woman for whom I have
been wrong enough to forget my prejudices. What a
punish-
ment !
I thought mamma would never go. I have been hiding
in your boudoir ever
since I heard she was here.
Was
Oh, no ; he has gone out for a walk.
Tell me, dearest, have you and
agreement lately ? Is there any misunderstanding ?
Oh, no.
I remember quite well that before I married
he often suffered from the oddest moods of depression.
Several
times he entreated me to break off the engagement. His affection
was so reverential that he feared he was not worthy of me. I
assure
you I had the greatest difficulty in overcoming his scruples,
and persuading
him that whatever his faults were I could help him
to subdue them.
But
so humiliating.
Men take these things for granted. If the truth
were known, I daresay he
already regards you as his wife.
me so unkindly. I have often thought that if
he were my
husband he could not be more disagreeable ! He has not a word
for me when I speak to him. He does not hear. Oh,
Doldrummond
am not the one. You are all wrong.
No, no, no. He loves you ; I am sure of it. Only
be patient with him and it
will come all right. Hush ! is that his
step ? Stay here, darling, and I
will go into my room and write
letters.
His Lordship will be down in half an hour, sir. He is
now having his hair
brushed.
I hardly
expected to meet you here.
And why, may I ask ?
You know what
overcome her scruples ?
Is my reputation then so very bad ?
You — you are supposed to be rather dangerous. You
sing on the stage, and
have a tenor voice.
Is that enough to make a man dangerous ?
How can
You admire mamma, of course.
A charming woman,
interesting woman ; so sympathetic.
But she said she would not listen to you.
Did she say that ?
will not be angry when I own that I do not especially
mother. A quarter of a century ago she may have had
consider-
able attractions, but— are you offended ?
Offended ? Oh, no. Only it seems strange. I thought
that all men admired
mamma.
yet how you made
I am here at
decided that he feels no further need of
apron-strings.
Oh,
wicked ?
But you will agree with me that a young man
cannot make his mother a kind
of scribbling diary ?
Still, if he spends his time well, there does not seem to
be any reason why
he should refuse to say where he dines when he
is not at home.
would find immorality in a sofa-cushion. If she were to know
that
piece !
It would break her heart. And
would be indignant. Mamma says his own morals are so
excellent !
Is he an invalid ?
Certainly not. Why do you ask ?
Whenever I hear of a charming husband I always
think that he must be an
invalid. But as for morals, there can be no
harm in taking
to go, however, I can easily say that the manager does not care to
have strangers present.
ball at
Is
I believe that he has an invitation, but I will
persuade him to refuse it,
if you would prefer him to remain at
home.
You are very kind,
indifference to me where
Perhaps I ought not to have mentioned this to
you ?
fact, I am delighted to think that you are
taking
the world. He is
wretched in this house.
glad to think that he knows any one so
interesting and clever and
beautiful as
beautiful ?
sometimes.
I shall be prettier than I am at
present.
You always said you liked my voice. We never
see anything of each other
now. I once thought that— well—
that you might like me better. Are you sure
you are not angry
with me because I am taking
Quite sure. Why should I care where
only wish that I, too, might go to the theatre to-night. What
part do you play ? And what do you sing ? A serenade ?
that ? The costume is, of course, picturesque, and
that is the great
thing in an opera. A few men can sing— after a fashion—
but to
find the right clothes to sing
And
Well, I do not like to say anything against her,
Perdrigonde
You have
just the exquisite charm, the grace, the majesty of
bearing which, in the
opinion of those who have never been to
Court, is the peculiar distinction
of women accustomed to the
highest society.
Oh, I should like to be an actress !
No ! no ! I spoke selfishly— if you only acted
with me, it would be
different ; but— but I could not bear to see
another man making love to you—
another man holding your hand
and singing into your eyes— and— and— Oh, this
is madness.
You must not listen to me.
I am not— angry, but— you must never again say things
which you do not
mean. If I thought you were untruthful it
would make me so —so miserable.
Always tell me the truth.
You are very beautiful !
mother, this is my friend
tion
him ?
I do not remember, but—
When I promised to go out with you this afternoon, I
forgot that I had
another engagement.
enough to call for me,
Another engagement,
Father, this is my friend
to go up to town this afternoon.
station for you ? The last train usually
arrives about —
I shall not return to-night. I intend to stay in town.
And where are you going ?
He is coming to our dress rehearsal of the
At the
place, but it amuses me to go there, and I must learn life for
myself.
I am two-and-twenty, and it is not extraordinary that I
should wish to be my
own master. I intend to have chambers of
my own in town.
Surely you have every liberty in this house ?
If you leave us, you will leave the rooms in which
your mother has spent
every hour of her life, since the day you
were born, planning and improving.
Must all her care and
thought go for nothing ? The silk hangings in your
bedroom she
worked with her own hands. There is not so much as a pen-
wiper in your quarter of the house which she did not choose with
the idea of
giving you one more token of her affection.
I am not ungrateful, but I cannot see much of the world
through my mother's
embroidery. As you say, I have every
comfort here. I may gorge at your
expense and snore on your
pillows and bully your servants, I can do
everything, in fact, but
quite frigid
The dog-cart is at the door, my lord.
You think it well over and you will see that I am
perfectly right. Come on,
Make haste : there is no time to be polite.
Mandeville
Was that my son ? I am ashamed of him ! To
desert us in this rude,
insolent, heartless manner. If I had
whipped him more and loved him less, he
would not have been
leaving me to lodge with a God knows who. I disown him !
The fool !
If you have anything to say, blame
the noblest heart in the world ;