The New Woman: An Original Comedy, in Four Acts

_Twelve months have elapsed._

SCENE.--_Study at GERALD'S opening upon a little boudoir, through curtains which are drawn across part of the stage at back. Doors, R., and L.U.E. Mantelpiece, between doors, R._

_GERALD discovered, seated at a writing table, with his back to the curtains, writing busily. MARGERY'S head appears through the curtains, which she holds closely round it, so that only her face is visible. She watches GERALD for a few moments, with a broad smile on her face._

Margery. Bo!

[_Withdraws her head._

GERALD [_starts and looks round_].

Margery, of course!

[_Resumes his writing. A peal of laughter behind the curtains, and MARGERY'S head reappears, laughing. GERALD throws down his pen._

MARGERY [_running in_].

Did I startle you?

Gerald. Not much; I'm getting used to it.

Margery. Well, don't be cross!

Gerald. I'm not cross, dear; but these repeated interludes make composition rather difficult.

Margery. Oh, bother! you've been all the morning at that stupid book, and I'm so happy, I can't help it. Kiss me, and say that you forgive me!

Gerald. Of course I forgive you!

Margery. Kiss me, then!

Gerald. My dear----

Margery. Gerald! will you kiss me?

GERALD [_kisses her_].

How many times does that make?

Margery. Only three this morning. You used to like kissing me.

Gerald. Yes, dear, but----

Margery. What?

Gerald. This isn't writing my book.

Margery. No, but it's being happy, and that's worth all the books that ever were written.

Gerald. Yes--being happy--that's the great thing.

[_Sighs._

Margery. Why do you sigh?

Gerald. Did I sigh?

[_Smiling._

Margery. Yes.

Gerald. I didn't know I sighed. Writing's hard work.

Margery. Then put the book away! [_Thrusts the MS. aside._] I've such news for you!

Gerald. News?

Margery. Such good news. Guess what it is. I'll give you three tries.

GERALD [_deprecatingly_].

Margery!

Margery. You'll never guess!

Gerald. Then what's the use of trying?

Margery. Because I want you to guess wrong.

Gerald. I shan't do that!

Margery. You will! I'm sure you will!

Gerald. I'm sure I shan't, because I am not going to guess at all.

MARGERY [_grimaces_].

Cross again! You'd better not be, or you know the penalty!

Gerald. Come! what is the good news?

Margery. That's the good news.

[_Gives him a card._

GERALD [_with real pleasure_].

Margery!

MARGERY [_pouting_].

You might have guessed!

Gerald. A card from Lady Wargrave! And addressed to you!

Margery. Asking us to a party at her house.

Gerald. Don't say a party, Margery!

Margery. Well, isn't it a party?

Gerald. Call it an At Home.

Margery. Oh, that's another lesson! Never call things by their right names, it's vulgar!

Gerald. This is an olive-branch, and no mistake! So aunt is thawing at last.

Margery. Stop a bit, Gerald!

Gerald. Wait a moment, Margery!

Margery. Is that another lesson? Never use one syllable when two will do? Very well, Gerald, I'll remember that. But what do you mean by olive-branch?

GERALD [_looks at her, and sighs again_].

Oh, never mind!

Margery. Yes, tell me. I want to make sure as I go along.

Gerald. An overture--a sign of reconciliation--like holding out your hand.

Margery. Ah, now I understand! But what a funny thing to call it--olive-branch!

[_Bursts into a peal of laughter._

GERALD [_shivers slightly and goes over to the mantelpiece. Aside_].

It didn't sound like that in Mapledurham! [_Conquering himself, returns to her._] I'm so glad aunt's come round. You don't know how it's worried me--her estrangement.

Margery. They've all come round now. They've all recognized me. Oh, I'm so happy, Gerald! It isn't half as hard to be a lady as I thought!

GERALD [_thoughtfully_].

Of course you'll have to answer this!

Margery. Of course!

Gerald. Show me the answer when you've written it!

Margery. Oh, I shan't spell it wrong!

Gerald. No, dear, but----

Margery. I know what you mean. I might use all short words instead of long ones. [_GERALD laughs._] Don't be afraid: I'll pick the longest in the dictionary. [_Kisses him._] Ah, Gerald, dear! short words were good enough for you once!

[_Archly._

Gerald. I dare say.

Margery. Yes; when you said, "I love you, Margery!" Say it again!

Gerald. Margery, what nonsense!

Margery. That's what I like--nonsense. Say it again!

GERALD [_with effort_].

I love you, Margery. [_Sits, and resumes his pen._] Now, let me get on with my work!

MARGERY [_goes L. Aside_]

Somehow it didn't sound like that in Mapledurham. [_Brightly._] Well, I suppose his head's full of his book. I wish mine was of mine. Oh, those French verbs! and what's the use of them? Why isn't English good enough for England?

_Enter WELLS, L._

Wells. Captain Sylvester.

[_GERALD flings down his pen in despair. Exit WELLS, L._

_Enter SYLVESTER._

Margery. Ah, I'm so glad you've come! [_Crosses to him._] I wanted somebody to talk to. Gerald's so busy!

[_Takes SYLVESTER'S hat and stick._

Sylvester. Busy? then I'm afraid I intrude.

GERALD [_resignedly_].

Oh, not at all! [_Sees MARGERY at back, who has put SYLVESTER'S hat on, very much askew, and is marching up and down with the stick under her arm._] Good gracious, Margery!

[_MARGERY laughs. SYLVESTER laughs. GERALD goes up, snatches the hat and stick, and turns to put them down._

Margery. Cross again! [_As GERALD turns again, he finds himself face to face with her, holding her mouth out._] Penalty!

Gerald. It is for Captain Sylvester to forgive you.

Sylvester. Anything. Mrs. Cazenove can do no wrong. [_Bows. MARGERY curtseys._] But where's Agnes? Happening to pass this way, I thought I might perhaps give her a lift home.

Margery. Oh! Gerald expects Mrs. Sylvester----

Gerald. Later on, later on!

Sylvester. Then may I wait for her?

Gerald. Oh, certainly! [_Taking up MSS._] If you'll excuse me going on with my work. I've been a good deal interrupted.

[_Goes to door, R._

Sylvester. By all means, if I may talk to Mrs. Cazenove!

[_GERALD bows stiffly and exit, R., watched by MARGERY, who makes a grimace to audience._

Margery. I believe Gerald's jealous!

SYLVESTER [_laughing_].

Of _me?_

MARGERY [_laughs_].

Just fancy anyone being jealous of _you!_ [_Laughs loudly, then stops suddenly._] Hush! I forgot! We mustn't make so much noise. Clever people don't like noise.

Sylvester. Music is noise to some people. I like it!

Margery. Ah, but then you're not clever!

SYLVESTER [_laughing_].

I'm afraid not!

Margery. There's a pair of us!

Sylvester. And what a pleasure it is to meet somebody who's not clever. Mrs. Cazenove, I think cleverness is the most boring thing in the world. This planet would be quite a pleasant place but for the clever people.

Margery. Do you mean my husband?

Sylvester. I was thinking of my wife; she's one of them. I'm not. I'm only Mrs. Sylvester's husband.

Margery. Are you sure you're that?

Sylvester. I have always been under that impression.

Margery. A husband who isn't master of his wife isn't half a husband.

Sylvester. I am content to be a fraction!

Margery. But you're a cipher.

Sylvester. You're frank, Mrs. Cazenove.

Margery. I only say to your face what everybody says behind your back.

Sylvester. What do they say?

Margery. That Mrs. Sylvester's too much alone.

Sylvester. Never. She's always with your husband!

Margery. Well?

Sylvester. As long as _you_ don't object----

Margery. Object? Not I! But that's a very different thing!

Sylvester. How so?

Margery. I am my husband's wife, and I am not afraid of any woman in the world.

Sylvester. You have no need to be. [_With admiration._] And in your pre-eminence resides my safety, Margery.

Margery. I'm not Margery now!

SYLVESTER [_seriously_].

I ask Mrs. Cazenove's pardon. [_In a casual tone_] You don't object to the collaboration, then?

Margery. I think it's fun! They are so serious over it. As if the world depended on a book! As if there were no Providence or anything, and they two had to keep creation going by scratching upon little bits of paper! I love to watch them, biting at their pens, and staring at that little crack up there. [_Looking at the ceiling. SYLVESTER looks also._] I often think to myself, you may well look--there's something there that'll keep the world going round, just as it is, long after your precious book is dust and ashes.

Sylvester. Then you do watch them, Margery--Mrs. Cazenove?

Margery. Oh, often, from my room. [_Indicates curtains._] But I can scarcely keep from laughing all the time. Some day I mean to have such fun with them! I mean to steal in here, [_business_] and put my head out, so--and just when they are putting the world right, say Bo!

[_Runs back, and bursts into a peal of laughter. SYLVESTER laughs also._

_Re-enter WELLS, L._

Wells. Miss Vivash!

[_Exit WELLS, L._

_Enter VICTORIA._

Victoria. Good morning, dear. [_Kisses MARGERY._] What! Captain Sylvester! you here, and Agnes not?

Margery. Mrs. Sylvester is coming!

Victoria. No need to apologize! A wife is just as much entitled to entertain another woman's husband as a husband to entertain another man's wife. You're getting on, dear. That's philosophy!

Margery. Gerald is in the next room!

Victoria. Then it's not philosophy!

Margery. I'll go and wake him up.

[_Exit, R._

Victoria. Humph! [_Sits._] Well, how long do you give it?

Sylvester. Do you mean philosophy?

Victoria. The Cazenove _ménage._ Another six months? These love-matches are honeymoon affairs. When once that's over, there's an end of everything.

Sylvester. But is it over?

Victoria. Everybody's talking. Cazenove is bored to death.

Sylvester. I don't think his wife is.

Victoria. Ah, that will come in time; and when it does, I mean to take Margery in hand. She is neglected shamefully. _She_ hasn't discovered it yet, but all her friends have.

Sylvester. They're generally first in the field.

Victoria. If a husband ignores his wife, the wife is entitled to ignore her husband. What would a man do under the same circumstances?

Sylvester. Is not the question rather, what a man _ought_ to do?

Victoria. That is Utopian. We must take the world as we find it.

Sylvester. I'm afraid Mrs. Cazenove won't be an apt pupil.

Victoria. No spirit--no proper pride. But things can't go on as they're going long. Margery is on the edge of a volcano. I give it six months.

Sylvester. Is it as bad as that?

Victoria. Never at home--and when he is--"in the next room." Never takes her anywhere, and I don't wonder at it. Margery is too _gauche_ for anything. But what could be expected, when a man throws himself away in that manner? Bless me, there were other women in the world!

Sylvester. Oh, plenty, plenty.

Victoria. Unluckily, he's found that out. [_Aside._] That's one for _him!_

Sylvester. Indeed!

VICTORIA [_gives him a glance of contempt, and produces a cigarette case_].

Do you mind tobacco?

Sylvester. Not at all. I like it.

_Re-enter MARGERY, R._

If Mrs. Cazenove----

Margery. Gerald's so busy, will you please excuse him?

Victoria. Certainly. Will you join me?

[_Offers case._

Margery. Thank you, I can't smoke.

Victoria. Then you should learn at once.

[_Puts a cigarette in her mouth._

Could you oblige me with a light? [_SYLVESTER strikes a match._] Thanks.

[_Lights up at the wrong end of a gold-tipped cigarette. MARGERY stands, arms akimbo, surveying her._

Margery. Do you like smoking?

Victoria. No, but I smoke on principle!

Sylvester. On the wrong principle!

Victoria. I beg your pardon. Men smoke cigarettes.

Sylvester. Yes, but they light them at the other end.

[_VICTORIA takes the cigarette out of her mouth and looks at it. MARGERY and SYLVESTER burst out laughing. She throws it away viciously._

_Re-enter WELLS, L._

Miss Bethune. [_Exit WELLS, L._

_Enter ENID._

Enid. How are you, dear? [_Kisses_ Margery.] Victoria!

[_Goes to_ Victoria, who presents her cheek.

SYLVESTER [_to MARGERY_].

Now you have company, I'll say good-day. I've waited for my wife quite long enough!

MARGERY [_with outstretched hand_].

But you will come and see me again soon?

[_ENID and VICTORIA exchange glances._

SYLVESTER [_holding her hand, and in a lower voice_].

Shall you be in to-morrow?

MARGERY [_frankly_].

Yes. [_SYLVESTER smiles and presses her hand; she sees her mistake._] If Gerald is.

[_ENID and VICTORIA are exchanging whispers._

SYLVESTER [_drops her hand; aside_].

Women are like Bradshaw--a guide and a puzzle!

[_Exit, L._

Enid. Does Captain Sylvester often call, my dear?

Margery. He has done lately.

Enid. Quite a change for him! He must occasionally meet his wife!

VICTORIA [_who has gone to the mantelpiece for a match_].

Now that that man has gone----

[_Lights another cigarette._

Enid. Victoria!

VICTORIA [_offering case to MARGERY_].

Can't I prevail on you?

MARGERY [_takes one_].

Well, I don't mind trying.

[_Lights hers from VICTORIA'S, VICTORIA putting the case on the table._

Enid. How _can_ you, Margery? I call it shocking! To take a nasty, evil-smelling thing like this [_taking a cigarette out of VICTORIA'S case_]--and put it to your lips--brrh! [_Shudders, but puts it in her mouth. MARGERY presses her burning cigarette against it till it is alight._] Don't, Margery, don't! I call it horrid--most unladylike!

Margery. Now puff!

[_All three sit and puff vigorously. MARGERY perched on table._

Victoria. Well, dear, and how are you getting on?

Margery. Oh, famously!

Enid. I hope you've taken my advice to heart!

Victoria. And mine! Have you a latch-key yet?

Margery. Oh, yes!

Enid. Margery, you shock me!

Margery. Well, you're easily shocked!

Victoria. You have a latch-key?

[_Triumphantly._

MARGERY [_simply_].

Yes, we have a latch-key!

BOTH [_in different tones_].

_We?_

Margery. What would Gerald do without one?

VICTORIA [_with contempt_].

Gerald!

Margery. When he comes home late.

Enid. _Does_ he come home late?

Victoria. All men do!

Enid. _Before_ marriage. Would that were _all_ they did. [_Mysteriously._] Has he told you everything?

Margery. He's told me everything I've asked him.

VICTORIA [_with curiosity, putting down cigarette_].

What have you asked him?

Margery. Nothing!

Enid. Margery! [_rises_] it's such women as you on whom men prey!

[_Turns off._

VICTORIA [_rises_].

And it's such men as him that women marry!

[_Turns off._

Margery. When they get the chance! [_Grimace at audience._

_Re-enter WELLS, L._

Wells. Colonel Cazenove.

[_ENID hides her cigarette behind her back; MARGERY flings hers away, jumps down and runs to meet him. Exit WELLS, L._

_Enter COLONEL._

Margery. Uncle!

[_Flings her arms round his neck, and gives him three smacking kisses. COLONEL smiles all over his face. ENID and VICTORIA exchange shrugs._

Colonel. Bless me! what a smell of tobacco! [_Looks about, sniffing, sees VICTORIA._] Ah, the foolish--beg pardon!--Miss Vivash! [_Bow._] Dear me, something burning!

[_Sniffs. VICTORIA sits again._

ENID [_confused_].

Yes, Mr. Cazenove--the next room

COLONEL [_seeing her_].

Man the Be---- Miss Bethune, I think?

[_Holds out his hand. ENID has to change the cigarette into her left hand behind her back; shakes hands, then turns to wipe the nicotine from her lips, unconsciously presenting the turning cigarette to COLONEL'S eyeglass. MARGERY laughs. COLONEL grins at audience._

Colonel. I thought something was burning. [_ENID throws cigarette into the grate, and covers her face. COLONEL lifts his finger._] And you said Mr. Cazenove!

Enid. Well, it wasn't a story. He _is_ in the next room.

Colonel. So man has not a monopoly of the vices!

Enid. We're none of us perfect!

Colonel. No, [_rubbing his hands_] thank Heaven! It's the spice of the old Adam that makes life endurable!

MARGERY [_again embracing him_].

Oh, I'm so happy, uncle!

ENID [_aside_].

Wish she wouldn't do that!

Margery. Oh, so happy!

Colonel. So am I, Margery. What did I always say? Caroline's a heart of gold. I knew she would come round. I always said I'd stand by you and Gerald.

Margery. Uncle!

Colonel. I always said so!

Margery. You ran away!

Colonel. Yes, but I said so. Then you have got her card?

MARGERY [_nodding her head_].

Yes!

[_Jumps up and gives him another kiss._

ENID [_aside, jealously_].

I do wish she wouldn't!

Colonel. My doing, Margery--my doing!

Enid. I have a card as well!

Colonel. My doing, Miss Bethune!

Enid. I've just been ordering my gown!

COLONEL [_gallantly_].

I trust it will be worthy of the wearer.

[_Bows. ENID smiles._

Margery. Have you a card, Miss Vivash?

VICTORIA [_who has sat very quietly, now rises_].

If you'll excuse me, dear, I'll say good-morning!

MARGERY [_shakes hands_].

Must you go?

[_Exit VICTORIA, L._

Margery. Excuse _me,_ uncle. Gerald doesn't know you're here!

[_Exit, R._

Colonel. Miss Vivash?

Enid. Don't trouble, Colonel! She resents an escort. I have no patience with Victoria. Trying to be a man!

Colonel. And making only a _succès d'estime!_

Enid. I like a woman to be womanly!

COLONEL [_aside_].

The best of 'em.

Enid. I don't mean weak--like Agnes. She goes to the other extreme. Do you know, I'm getting very anxious about Agnes!

Colonel. Mrs. Sylvester?

Enid. Haven't you noticed anything? Of course not! You men never do!

Colonel. I am afraid I must plead guilty!

Enid. Haven't you observed how much she and your nephew are together?

Colonel. But they're collaborating.

Enid. Ah, Colonel, when a man collaborates with a woman, a third person ought always to be present.

Colonel. To protect the man?

ENID [_tapping him, playfully_].

You are incorrigible!

COLONEL [_cheerfully_].

I always was, and at my age reformation is out of the question!

Enid. Oh, you are not so old as all that!

Colonel. Guess.

Enid. Fifty!

COLONEL [_pleased_].

Add six to it!

Enid. Six!

COLONEL [_aside_].

She might add eight.

Enid. I don't believe it, Colonel.

COLONEL [_aside_].

_Quite_ the best of 'em! [_Sits._] So you have appointed yourself the third person?

Enid. It's time someone did.

Colonel. A sort of Vigilance Committee, eh?

Enid. I simply take the interest of a friend in Agnes.

Colonel. And what is the result of your observations?

Enid. I have come to a terrible conclusion.

Colonel. You alarm me!

Enid. That she is a poor, tempted creature.

Colonel. Bless me! I never regarded her in that light before. I thought the boot was on the other leg. [_Corrects himself hurriedly._] Foot!--foot! [_Indicating ENID'S, which she is carefully showing; aside._] Very neat foot she has!

Enid. Men always stand by one another, so should women. Agnes must be protected against herself!

Colonel. Then it's herself, after all? I thought you meant my nephew.

Enid. So I do. She is the moth--he is the candle.

Colonel. Really!----

Enid. Oh, you men, you men! You're all alike--at least, I won't say all!

Colonel. Say all, say all! It really doesn't matter!

Enid. No, no, I won't say all!

Colonel. You say so in your book!

ENID [_pleased_].

You've read my book?

COLONEL [_evading the question_].

"Man, the Betrayer?"

Enid. Well, you know, Colonel, one has to paint with a broad brush.

[_Pantomime._

Colonel. Yes, when one paints with tar! [_Aside._] Very nice arm, too! [_Aloud._] Look at your title!

Enid. "Man, the Betrayer!"

COLONEL [_aside_].

Don't know any more!

Enid. A mere figure of speech!

COLONEL [_admiring her_].

Figure?

Enid. Mere figure!

Colonel. Damned fine figure, too!

[_To himself, but aloud._

Enid. Colonel!

Colonel. Ten thousand pardons! I was thinking of something else. Pray forgive my bad language!

Enid. Oh, I'm used to it! Victoria's is much worse!

Colonel. Miss Vivash!

Enid. Vulgar-minded thing! Learned French on purpose to read Zola's novels. I don't suppose that even _you_ have read them.

Colonel. Oh, haven't I? Every one!

Enid. I don't believe it, Colonel!

Colonel. I'm a shocking old sinner! I never professed to be anything else!

Enid. I simply don't believe it! You men exaggerate so! You make yourselves out to be so much worse than you are. Whereas we women pretend to be so much better. That's the worst of us! We are such hypocrites! Oh, if you knew as much about women as _I_ do----

COLONEL [_aside, much interested_].

Now I'm going to hear something. [_Meanwhile MARGERY has crept in, R., behind them. She flings her handkerchief over the COLONEL'S eyes, and ties it in a knot behind his head, then skips away from him. Rising._] You rascal! It's that Margery! I know it is! Where are you? [_Groping about, MARGERY evading him, and in shrieks of laughter._] Margery, if I catch you!

Margery. But you can't!

[_ENID has risen to evade the COLONEL, who is groping all over the room--a sort of blind man's buff--all laughing._

COLONEL [_seizing ENID_].

I've got you!

[_Kisses her. ENID shrieks. MARGERY roars. COLONEL tears off the handkerchief and stands aghast._

_Re-enter WELLS, L._

Lady Wargrave. [_Sudden silence. Exit COLONEL, R. ENID runs out, C., in confusion._

_Enter LADY WARGRAVE, L., and comes down._

[_Exit WELLS, L. ENID re-appears C., and runs across stage behind LADY WARGRAVE, and off, L. MARGERY stands confused, not knowing how to greet LADY WARGRAVE._

LADY WARGRAVE [_putting out both hands_].

Margery! [_Holding both MARGERY'S hands_].

Margery. Oh, Lady Wargrave!

Lady Wargrave. Aunt. I've called to make amends to you.

Margery. Amends?

Lady Wargrave. For my neglect. [_Kisses her._] Forgive me, Margery, but your marriage was a shock to me. However, I've got over it. Perhaps, after all, Gerald has chosen wisely!

Margery. Thank you for your kind words. I knew you had got over it.

Lady Wargrave. Of course! you had my card.

Margery. I knew from uncle, too. How good of him to bring it all about!

Lady Wargrave. Theodore!

Margery. I mean, to reconcile you!

Lady Wargrave. My dear Margery, your uncle has never presumed to mention the subject?

Margery. Oh, what a story he has told us! he said it was _his_ doing.

Lady Wargrave. No doubt. When you know Theodore as well as I do, you will have learnt what value to attach to his observations!

Margery. Won't I pay him out?

[_Shaking her fist._

Lady Wargrave. Never mind your uncle. Tell me about yourself--and about Gerald. I hope your marriage has turned out a happy one.

Margery. Yes--we're as happy as the day is long.

Lady Wargrave. That is good news. Then you haven't found your new position difficult?

Margery. Oh, I'm quite used to it! I'm not a bit shy now. Of course I put my foot in it--I make mistakes sometimes; but even born ladies sometimes make mistakes.

Lady Wargrave. Yes, Margery. [_Bending her head slightly._] And Gerald?

Margery. Is the best husband in the world to me. Of course, he's very busy----

Lady Wargrave. Busy?

Margery. With his book; and sometimes I can't help annoying him. That's nothing. We haven't had a real cross word yet.

Lady Wargrave. Does he write very much?

Margery. Oh, morning, noon, and night. He's always got a pen in his hand. I often say I wonder he doesn't wear the ceiling out with looking at it.

[_Laughs._

Lady Wargrave. That isn't writing, Margery.

Margery. No, but it's thinking--and he's always thinking.

[_Falls into a reverie._

Lady Wargrave. Do you go out much?

Margery. We went out a good deal at first, but we got tired of it. I like home best; at any rate, Gerald does. I rather liked going out. Oh, I'm quite a success in society.

Lady Wargrave. Indeed?

Margery. Of course, aunt, I'm not clever; but I suppose I'm witty without knowing it!

Lady Wargrave. Witty?

Margery. At any rate, I make the people laugh. Isn't that being witty? Then _I_ laugh as well, although I don't know what I'm laughing at, I'm sure! [_Laughs._] Oh, everybody laughs at me--but Gerald. And he's thinking of his book!

Lady Wargrave. Do you have many visitors?

Margery. Oh, yes! Miss Vivash--Miss Bethune--Dr. Mary--Mrs. Sylvester--and uncle. They're often coming. As for Mrs. Sylvester, she almost lives here!--oh, and Captain Sylvester, he's taken to calling lately!

Lady Wargrave. In future, dear, you'll have another visitor. I see I have neglected you too long. And you must come and see me. We'll go out together.

Margery. Oh, that _will_ be nice! Then you have _quite_ forgiven me?

Lady Wargrave. But not myself!

MARGERY [_embracing her_].

Oh, why is everyone so good to me?

_Re-enter GERALD, R., followed by COLONEL._

Gerald. Aunt, this is kind of you! but you were always kind.

Lady Wargrave. Not always. I ought to have paid this visit earlier. I made a mistake, Gerald, and I have come to acknowledge it.

COLONEL [_laying his hand on LADY WARGRAVE'S shoulder in an access of enthusiasm_].

Caroline, you're a trump!

Lady Wargrave. Theodore!

Colonel. No other word for it! I always said you'd come round!

Lady Wargrave. Never!

Colonel. Always!

Lady Wargrave. Theodore, you _never_ said so!

Colonel. To myself.

[_Turns off._

Gerald. Better late than never, aunt. And thank you for the card for your At Home.

[_Talks to LADY WARGRAVE._

Margery. Oh, uncle, you're a shocking old story, aren't you?

Colonel. What have I been saying now?

Margery. You said it was _your_ doing!

Colonel. So it was!

Margery. Aunt vows you'd nothing to do with it at all!

COLONEL [_taking MARGERY aside_].

Caroline's a heart of gold; but your aunt must be managing! So I let her manage, and I manage _her._

Margery. You?

[_Smiling._

Colonel. But I do it quietly. I influence her, without her knowing it. Sheer force of character. Chut! not a word! [_Backing away from her, signalling silence; backs into LADY WARGRAVE._] Ten thousand pardons!

[_Bows profusely._

Lady Wargrave. Really, Theodore!

[_MARGERY goes up, stifling her laughter; he shakes his handkerchief at her._

_Re-enter WELLS, L._

Wells. Mrs. Sylvester!

_Enter MRS. SYLVESTER; she hesitates, on seeing LADY WARGRAVE. Exit WELLS, L._

Gerald. Pray come in, Mrs. Sylvester. You know my aunt.

Mrs. Sylvester. I think we've met before.

Lady Wargrave. Yes, at my nephew's chambers. I remember perfectly. You were engaged upon some work or other.

Gerald. It's not finished yet. I am so interrupted!

[_Glancing at MARGERY who has crept down behind COLONEL._

MARGERY [_whispering in COLONEL'S ear_].

Who kissed Miss Bethune?

[_COLONEL starts guiltily; MARGERY roars._

GERALD [_angrily_].

Margery!

[_MARGERY runs out, L._

Lady Wargrave. Not finished yet!

Mrs. Sylvester. But we have made great progress.

Lady Wargrave. And are you satisfied with what you have done?

Gerald. It is certainly interesting.

Lady Wargrave. It is not enough for me that a work of my nephew's should be interesting! Tell me, as far as you have gone, do you think it is worthy of a Cazenove?

Gerald. It is the work of my life.

Mrs. Sylvester. And of mine!

Lady Wargrave. As far as you have gone. But what is to be the end of it?

Gerald. Ah, we've not got there yet.

Lady Wargrave. Would you admit a third collaborateur?

MRS. SYLVESTER [_alarmed_].

Who?

Lady Wargrave. An _old_ woman.

Gerald. Lady Wargrave's joking!

Lady Wargrave. Oh, I could put an end to it, I think!

Mrs. Sylvester. We don't know what the end will be ourselves.

Lady Wargrave. There I have the advantage. If I can help in any way, my experience is always at your service. Meanwhile, I fear I am another interruption. Theodore, your arm!

GERALD [_follows them to door, L._].

Thank you so much for coming.

[_Holding his hand out._

LADY WARGRAVE [_taking it_].

And for going?

[_Exit with COLONEL, L._

Mrs. Sylvester. What does she mean?

Gerald. Thank her for going?

Mrs. Sylvester. And the end of it?

Gerald. Aunt always talks in riddles!

Mrs. Sylvester. Is it a riddle?

GERALD [_avoids her eyes_].

Come, let us get to work. I've done hardly anything today. It's first one interruption, then another.

[_Sits._

Mrs. Sylvester. We should be quieter at our house.

Gerald. There's your husband!

Mrs. Sylvester. Always a husband!

Gerald. Or a wife. Ah, me!

[_Sits with his head between his hands, staring at vacancy; MRS. SYLVESTER watching him sympathetically._

MRS. SYLVESTER [_comes and kneels by him_].

Gerald! [_He starts slightly._] You are not happy. You have realized the truth.

Gerald. What truth?

Mrs. Sylvester. Your marriage was a mistake from the beginning.

Gerald. Not from the beginning. It started right enough, but somehow it has taken the wrong turn.

Mrs. Sylvester. It was wrong from the first. Mine was the true ideal. The thing that you thought love was a mere passion--an intoxication. Now you have come back to your better self you feel the need of sympathy.

Gerald. No, no; my love was real enough, and I love Margery still; but love doesn't seem to bear the wear and tear of marriage--the hourly friction--the continual jar.

Mrs. Sylvester. There is no friction in true marriage, Gerald. You say you love your wife, and it is good and loyal of you to deceive yourself; but you can't deceive me. Haven't I made the same mistake myself? I was a thoughtless, inexperienced girl, Jack was a handsome, easy-going man. We married, and for a year or two we jogged along. But I grew up--the girl became a woman. I read, I thought, I felt; my life enlarged. Jack never reads, never thinks--he is just the same. [_Rising._] I am not unhappy, but my soul is starved--[_goes to mantelpiece and stands looking at him_]--as yours is!

[_Pause. MARGERY'S face appears between the curtains at the back, wearing a broad smile. She grimaces at them, unobserved, and remains there; then looks at GERALD with a long face of mock sympathy._

Gerald. Well, we must make the best of it!

Mrs. Sylvester. Yes, but what _is_ the best? [_MARGERY grimaces at her._] Is our mistake so hopeless, irremediable? After all, is not true loyalty loyalty to oneself?

GERALD [_looks at her_].

You think so?

Mrs. Sylvester. Or what becomes of our philosophy?

Gerald. Yes, what becomes of it?

[_Another pause. MARGERY laughs almost audibly. During the next passage the laugh subsides into an expression of perplexity._

Mrs. Sylvester. What is a promise when the heart's gone out of it?

Gerald. Surely it is a promise.

Mrs. Sylvester. To an empty phrase must one sacrifice one's life? Must one stake everything on the judgment of one's youth? By the decision of a moment must one be bound for ever? Must one go through the world "with quiet eyes unfaithful to the truth?" Does one not owe a duty to oneself? There can be but one answer!

GERALD [_absently_].

Margery! [_MARGERY winces as if struck--quite serious now. Then with energy._] But, Agnes, Margery is impossible! She's no companion to me! I am all alone! Her very laughter grates upon me! There's no meaning in it! It is the laughter of a tomboy, of a clown! And she will never learn! She's hopeless, Agnes, hopeless! [_MARGERY drops back horror-struck, but her face disappears only by degrees. MRS. SYLVESTER lays her hand on him. Another pause. The curtains close._] What is one to do? [_Rising._

Mrs. Sylvester. We are face to face with the problem! Let us confront it boldly. Gerald, do you love me?

[_A thud behind the curtains. GERALD starts guiltily. Pause. They stand looking at one another._

GERALD [_in a whisper_].

What was that? [_Goes up cautiously and draws curtains back, discovering MARGERY stretched senseless on the floor._] Margery!