Chapter VIII: Act II

SCENE—_Club house as before. Time: Morning, a few days later
than Act I. Pres. Hykight discovered looking at letter case._

PINK T. Why, here _is_ a letter. That’s strange; my mail comes to my business office. (_Opens letter, reads._) Why, from that Mr. Blake of the Gas Company. Dear me! I wrote him that he really must not come here any more and he has the audacity to answer, saying that he is obliged to come. The rules of the company are inexorable, etc. Nonsense! It isn’t the rules of the company that compel him. It is something else. I guess I’m the attraction, in short. (_Sighs._) I’m getting tired of all this strife fighting the battles of reform. The new woman is a pretty lonesome creature. But I might have been brought up a marrying woman. And if I had! Poor helpless creatures! (_Sighs._) Well, sometimes I think that I’d rather preside in a nice home than in this club. Mr. Blake _is_ handsome—such eyes and such a mustache! and such manners! How kind of the Gas Company to educate their men in etiquette. That is because a woman is president of the company. Why, I’ve read that in the old time the insolence of gas employés almost equaled that of employés in the city hall nowadays. But he is poor and I can not stoop! The motto of the Hykights is “Upward,” and I, Pink T. Hykight, a descendant of President Hykight, shall not be the first to step out of the family rank. The Blakes are of very good family, but Mr. Blake has only his salary.

_ENTER MARY, L._

MARY. Oh, are you here, Miss Hykight?

PINK T. Yes, I am early, called for my mail.

MARY. How absurd it was for that carrier to get stuck in the chute.

PINK T. Yes, it might have been serious. Smilax, I want the silver counted to-day.

MARY. I’ll attend to it, Miss Hykight. (_Exit, MARY, L._)

PINK T. (_Looking at letter._) No, I think Chief of Police, Brennan de Cork is more to my notion. The de Cork’s have been illustrious for centuries. They were kings of Ireland, and they say he has made his pile in politics, too. I’ll propose to de Cork yet. I believe he expects it, too. I’m sick of public life. Poor Blake! I’ll just write him to call about the meter again and find some way to let him know that his hopes are vain. Poor thing! He is so infatuated with me. It’s dangerous but I’ll risk it. (_Rings._) I’ll write de Cork asking him to theatre this very night. (_Writes hastily._) No stamp! I’ll mail it outside. (_Attempts to put note in pocket; drops it on floor. Rings._) Where are all the servants?

_ENTER MARY, L._

PINK T. Smilax, where is Belinda and Alfaretta Pansy?

MARY. I sent Belinda for cigars. Alfaretta is sick to-day.

PINK T. What hour do you open the club house?

MARY. At eight o’clock, Miss Hykight, according to regulation.

PINK T. Is your help all here at that hour?

MARY. Promptly, Miss.

PINK T. When do members appear?

MARY. Seldom before noon, and most of them after four. You see the trouble of dressing in this old regalia keeps them away. We ought to abolish such an ancient rule and admit the modern dress.

PINK T. That is a club matter.

MARY. (_Vexed._) Oh, it’s not for me to say. I just suggested. Miss President, the Swiss cheese for the bar is hardly up to the last lot, I think. Will you come and taste it? (_Exeunt L._)

_ENTER ROSA LIGHTFOOT, R. 1._

ROSA. (_Has not seen them, goes to letter case._) A letter for me! A strange hand! (_Reads._) Why, it’s from that Mr. Blake. Thanks me for my kindness! Dear fellow. Hopes I may not think him bold. (_Laughs._) Such audacity! He is bold, but I like him for it. And wants to meet me here. Oh goodness! That will never do. (_Looks at note._) Tuesday at nine. Hopes I’ll be alone. Why, he may come any minute. How indiscreet of him. He must love me desperately. (_Rings._) Whatever shall I do.

_ENTER MARY, L._

ROSA. Mary, I expect a person here on business—important business. Is the committee room unoccupied at this hour?

MARY. Yes, Miss, that is, unless Birdie Robbins should come in. She goes round at all hours.

ROSA. (_Soliloquy._) Why didn’t she go into literature? She has no tact for politics.

MARY. No, Miss Lightfoot, she hasn’t a spoonful of tact.

ROSA. Ah, Mary, you needn’t notice everything. If she or anyone else drops in just say the committee room is in use, will you?

MARY. Yes, Miss. (_Exit L._)

ROSA. How my heart flutters. I’ve read that in the old times women’s hearts were always fluttering. That is a weakness that comes from centuries of degenerate training, but the new woman _will_ master it yet. The men manage better. Their great solid chests are as impassive as statues. We can be nonchalant, too. I’ll coolly light a cigar. (_Feels pocket._) Goodness, I gave the last one to Inspector Lillie Evergreen. (_Sound of footsteps, R._) Goodness, there he comes now. (_Listens._) He’s saying good day to some one at the door. Oh, horrors! that’s Birdie Robbins’s voice. What shall I do? (_Darts behind screen L._)

_ENTER BIRDIE ROBBINS, R._

BIRDIE. (_Cross._) I’ll just look around and see that everything is in decent order, and I dare say it isn’t at all. The other directors leave all that to me. Governor Perkins and Judge Flyer haven’t attended a directors’ meeting for three months. They ought to be ashamed of themselves. (_Looks in letter box, takes letter out, reads._) Another appeal from the Pacific Coast Home Mission Society. Urgent appeal for help. The Chinese are sending missionaries to America by the score. Confucian daily paper published in San Francisco. Dear me, things are going to the bad headlong, and this club doesn’t even protest. I wonder if those people have repaired the faucets in the dressing room! (_Exit R. U. E._)

ROSA. (_Comes from behind screen._) This is a pretty mess. I do hope he won’t come. If I try to stop him at the door, it may lead to complications. (_BIRDIE heard re-entering. ROSA behind screen as before._)

BIRDIE. Soap nearly all gone already. The servants are robbing us, feeding their relatives at our expense, and smoking our cigars by the score. We read that all these things happened in the old times. Alfaretta sick to-day! She’ll have to be sent to the tobacco cure and the club will be obliged by law to pay the bills. Such demoralization on every hand. When the men managed things they stole everything in sight. I’ve just been reading a curious old book of the last century called “An Iron Crown.” There were big thieves then, according to that author, who stole millions. Now women will stoop to purloin a few cigars. (_Petulantly._) I’m ashamed of them. (_Sees note on floor._) What is this? (_Picks it up._) Why this is directed to “Hon. Chief of Police, Brennan de Cork.” It is unsealed too. Official business, doubtless, I’ll see. (_Opens and reads._) Mercy! Can this be true? Impossible! I’ll put it back. No, it is a matter too important to be concealed. (_Reads._) “Hon. Brennan de Cork: Miss Pink T. Hykight presents her compliments to Mr. de Cork and desires the pleasure of his company to the Elsie theatre to hear Paddiwinski next Saturday evening. Find the usual gratuity for flowers enclosed.” Such iniquity! I always suspected the sincerity of that woman. Her crime shall be punished. As vice-president, I shall call a directors’ meeting at once. (_Exit R. 1._)

ROSA. (_Coming down._) Here’s a pretty go! There’ll be a scandal sure, for if there is a sincere member in the club, it is Miss Robbins. Who would have thought that Miss Hykight was so sly? Well, de Cork is a great catch. Dear me, if I am discovered. Mr. Blake is so indiscreet. I shall talk to him seriously. (_Steps heard._) Goodness, some one coming. (_Darts back behind screen._)

_ENTER BLAKE, R. 1._

BLAKE. I do hope she’ll meet me. Not here! How cruel! She thinks me too forward, but I can not conceal my love. (_ROSA behind screen leans forward eagerly to listen._)

_ENTER PINK T., quietly, R. 1._

BLAKE. Yes, I’ve been too forward. She despises me. (_P. T. advances on tip toe, also ROSA comes further down, pleased._) Oh, for one word, one glance of those beautiful eyes.

PINK T. (_Aside._) Poor thing!

ROSA. (_Aside._) How delightful.

BLAKE. I have hoped in vain. (_Turns R._)

PINK T. No, not so. Hope is—

ROSA. (_Coming out, screams._) Undone! Miss Hykight! (_All stare in surprise for a few moments._)

PINK T. Miss Lightfoot, explain your conduct, if you please.

ROSA. Not to you, Miss Hykight.

PINK T. Then to the club.

ROSA. The club can have my resignation if that is what you mean.

PINK T. Your conduct has been scandalous. You have lured this confiding young man here utterly regardless of his reputation or the club’s.

ROSA. Plague take the club! I love this man. Mr. Blake, be mine.

PINK T. (_Loftily._) Oh, indeed! If it comes to that I think I am one too many. (_Sails out R. 1._)

BLAKE. (_Modestly._) I have been very indiscreet. Forgive me, dear.

ROSA. Darling, say no more, but you really must go at once. (_Noise outside._) Too late. Get behind the screen there. (_He runs behind screen R., ROSA L._)

_ENTER DOLLIE R._

DOLLIE. (_With easy swagger._) Here’s a go! That silly little Bertie Howells thinks because I called on him three or four times and took him to a concert once that I’m going to marry him. Humph! he’s decidedly fresh. But this is the poor boy’s first season in society, and then (_with jaunty air_) I suppose I am to blame. So far forgot himself as to write me a note. Well, I must say, being an only child, his mamma’s millions are very tempting. But then his papa is insupportable, no pop-in-law for me just yet. (_Looks at letter box, fingering letters._) “Grantly,” “Gorman,” “Ginseng,” “Gunther;” no Giglette. Well, the ninny hasn’t sent any more notes, thank fortune. I’m pestered to death with billet doux and designing papas. (_Going L. sees ROSA behind screen._) Why, Lightfoot, old chap, what on earth are you standing in there for?

ROSA. (_Stammers._) Why, you see Giglette—you know I was just listening if that induction was still in the heating coil. We could hear the engine throb plainly.

DOLLIE. The plumber fixed that last week. Come and have something.

ROSA. Excuse me please, you know I never drink.

DOLLIE. Teetotaler! I forgot; well take a cigar.

ROSA. (_Coughs significantly._) Don’t care if I do.

DOLLIE. Lightfoot, you have a bad cough. (_Exeunt L._)

BLAKE. (_Comes out._) Now’s my chance to skip. (_Runs against BERTIE ENTERING R., disguised as plumber._)

BERTIE. I saiey there, now! (_Tools fall with racket._)

BLAKE. Where are you going, you lubber?

BERTIE. Confwound you, it’s your fault.

BLAKE. No lip, young fellow. You’re too fresh!

BERTIE. Lip! Fellah! You aw vewy fwesh! You aw insulting, don’t you know.

BLAKE. Hello! Who are you, anyway? Lookin’ for a scrap are you? You look like a plumber and talk like an avenue dude.

BERTIE. I cawn’t talk to you, you know. Because you’re no gentleman, see?

BLAKE. Why, you little shrimp, who the deuce are you to talk about gentlemen? You’re not a plumber, nor a gentleman, either. You’re up to some game. I’ll just unmask you. (_Pulls off BERTIE’S slouch hat, BERTIE screams, BLAKE pulls off his false whiskers. BERTIE hits him but BLAKE doesn’t mind it._)

BERTIE. (_Gasping._) You—you fellah—

BLAKE. Don’t try that game or I’ll pulverize you.

BERTIE. (_Squaring._) Don’t you twy that. I—weally, I may hurt somebody.

BLAKE. Young man, what are you doing in this club, sneaking in here in disguise? (_Sternly._) Give an account of yourself.

BERTIE. (_Shrinking back._) Weally, don’t be wash, you know. I came heah to meet the pearl of her sex.

_ENTER DOLLIE, L., overhears, stops._

DOLLIE. (_Hand to mouth._) Me!

BLAKE. No you didn’t, young fellow. That’s what I came for, and I’ll break every bone in your body if you meddle in my affairs. (_Dollie smiles pleased and gives expressive look._) Hear?

DOLLIE. (_As before._) Fun to come!

BERTIE. (_Contemptuously._) Why, she wouldn’t look at you. The peehless flowah of her sex—

DOLLIE. That’s me. (_Laughs merrily. They start surprised._) Really, this is too good! (_Laughs._) Really, gentlemen! Fie on you! These persistent attentions are embarrassing. (_Comes toward C._)

BLAKE. (_Bowing politely._) Madam, I assure you—

BERTIE. (_Pushing him aside._) Go, fellah! This is my affaih! Miss Giglette, I feah I look vewy ludicuous in this dwess and I cawn’t get on without me eye-glaws, don’t you know. (_Feeling in pocket for glass. To BLAKE._) You’ve bwoke me chain, I saiey.

DOLLIE. (_Laughs heartily._) Now go, please, both of you. I could have you both arrested. Don’t cause a scene.

_ENTER BIRDIE ROBBINS, L._

BIRDIE. (_Sternly._) Men! In the Anti-homo Club. Is it possible? (_Severely._) Miss Giglette, what does this mean?

DOLLIE. (_Laughs._) Really, I don’t know. Nothing, I guess.

BIRDIE. Miss Giglette, have you invited these creatures?

BLAKE. (_Aside._) Creatures! Old Major Prim!

DOLLIE. I have not invited them.

BIRDIE. Then why are they here? This looks suspicious.

DOLLY. (_Haughtily._) Miss Robbins, you forget that I am not on the witness stand.

BIRDIE. There’s pretty goings on here in violation of our constitution and by-laws. This club is on the brink of dissolution.

DOLLIE. Pshaw! It’s always on the brink of something.

BIRDIE. And they will not go, eh? I’ll ring up the police. (_Starts toward police call in office, L._)

DOLLIE. (_Seizing her arm._) No, not that!

BERTIE. Police! Oh me weputation! Wheh’s me eye-glaws?

DOLLIE. (_Waving hand toward door_!) Now clear out, both of you, quick, or you’ll get the G. B.

BERTIE. Dweadful. (_To BLAKE._) Aw, you mad weckless fellah, waising this wow! We’ll be wuined. (_Pulling BLAKE hastily out R., BIRDIE glaring at them. DOLLIE C., laughing._)

DOLLIE. Well, that’s too rich. (_BIRDIE glares at her._)

QUICK CURTAIN.