Chapter III: Act II (2)

[_Hurries up and exits l. d._

_Stuart (at l. d.)._ But, Mrs. Van Tromp, you haven’t told me in what I am to beat you?

[_Exit_ STUART, _l. d._

_Enter_ CHARLIE _and_ AGNES, _b. d._

_Charlie._ Thith ith better than down thairth, Mith Wortley, ithn’t it?

_Agnes (sinking into chair c. with sigh)._ Oh, much!

_Charlie._ I’ve been wanting to thuggeth it before, Mith Wortley, but that bore Van Tromp wath alwayth round, and if he heard me, he would intrude hith thothiety upon uth.

_Agnes._ Why. Mr. Newbank, I thought you were friends.

_Charlie._ We uthed to be, till the fellowth came out thuth a thnob.

_Agnes._ That is where you men have such an advantage. Now we girls have to put up with every donkey that comes near us.

_Charlie._ That ith hard, Mith Wortley. But it theemth to me that you might thave yourthelf by a little diplomathy.

_Agnes (eagerly)._ Do tell me how!

_Charlie._ Why don’t you get rid of Van Tromp?

_Agnes._ Why, I can’t be rude to him. You must remember he is a relation.

_Charlie._ I didn’t mean rudneth.

_Agnes._ What then?

_Charlie._ Why, he athkth you to danth; you are out of breath or tired. He thitth down by you; you want a glath of lemonade, or thomething elth, it dothn’t matter what.

_Agnes (aside)._ Does he really think that’s an original idea? (_Aloud._) How clever!

_Charlie._ Yeth, I rather think thatth a good nothon.

_Agnes._ Isn’t it warm here?

_Charlie._ Very. I’ve thought of thuggethting that we open a window.

_Agnes._ Oh, I’m so afraid of drafts. Did you see where I left my fan?

_Charlie._ No,—unleth you left it down thairth in the library.

_Agnes._ Won’t you see if I did?

_Charlie (going up l. b.)._ With the greateth of pleathure.

_Agnes._ And, Mr. Newbank, (_Charlie turns_) don’t tell Mr. Van Tromp I’m here. [REG. _appears at b. d._

_Charlie._ I’ll tell any lie thooner. (_Turns._) Ah!! (_Politely._) Mither Van Tromp, Mith Wortley ith fatigued and wanth to retht a little.

_Reg._ Aw! Then she shows gweat good sense in sending you away.

_Charlie (angrily)._ Thir, you thouldn’t inflict your thothiety on a lady who hath juth been athking me how to get rid of you.

_Reg. (coolly)._ I hope you told her it was by keeping you about her.

_Charlie._ If thatth the cathe, I’ll be back very thoon.

[_Exits b. d._

_Reg._ Aw, I’m deucid sowy that boah Newbank has tired you, Miss Wortley. You weally should not be so awfully good natured, don’tcher know.

_Agnes._ Oh, we have to be, and he’s no worse than a lot of others.

_Reg._ I jolly wish, you know, that I could save you fwom it.

_Agnes._ Don’t you think it warm here?

_Reg._ Weally, but it is, pon honour.

_Agnes._ And I’m so thirsty. Would it trouble you too much to get me a glass of water?

_Reg. (rising and going up l.)._ Chawmed, I assure you.

CHARLIE _appears b. d. and they run into each other_.

_Reg._ Aw, I thought you were going to allow Miss Wortley a little west.

_Charlie._ Thatth why I wath coming back. I didn’t think the would thend you away.

_Reg._ I’ll be back soon, deah boy.

[_Exits b. d._

_Charlie._ I’m thorry, Mith Wortley, but your fan ith not in the library.

_Agnes (aside)._ Tell me something I don’t know. (_Aloud._) Have the rest of the men finished their cigars?

_Charlie._ Yeth.

_Agnes._ I suppose I ought to go down.

[_Rises._

_Charlie._ Yeth, we’ll go together, and tho ethcape Van Tromp.

_Agnes (aside)._ What a pity some glue company can’t buy those two and melt them down into mucilage! (_Aloud._) Yes, but first won’t you see if I didn’t leave my fan on the piano in the music-room?

_Charlie._ Why, thertainly.

[_Starts up to b. d._

_Agnes (aside)._ While you’re gone I’ll get into my domino, and if you catch me afterwards, it’s my fault.

[_Exit_ CHARLIE. _Loud exclamation outside._

_Charlie (outside)._ You donkey, you ran into me on purpoth, and thpilled that water on me.

_Agnes._ Do for once temper the wind to the shorn lamb!

[_Looks around room helplessly, and then rushes to bay window and
hides._

_Reg. (outside)._ I beg pawdon, but it was you who wan into me. Cawnt cher see where you are going?

REG. _appears b. d. with a glass containing very little water, wiping his coat sleeve with handkerchief, and looking angrily after_ CHARLIE.

_Reg._ I’m deucid sowy, Miss Wortley, but that clumsy fool has spilled most of the water (_coming down_). One can always tell the _nouveaux_ wiche by their gaucherwies. (_Finds chair empty—starts, and looks round room._) Pon honour, if he hasn’t dwiven her away!

[_Stands looking about._

CHARLIE _appears at b. d._

_Charlie._ I met your maid, Mith Wortley, and the thaid your fan wath in your room, (_coming down r._) and that the’ll get it. (_Discovers Agnes’ absence._) Now then, I hope you are thatithfied with having driven her away.

_Reg._ Oh, I dwove her away, did I?

_Charlie._ Yeth.

_Reg. (laughing)._ That is wich!

_Charlie._ Well, thath more than you are!

_Reg._ Cholly Newbank, you get worse form everwy day.

_Enter_ POLLY _with fan l. d._

_Polly._ Here is the fan, Mr. Newbank.

_Charlie (taking fan)._ Can you tell me where Mith Wortley ith?

_Polly (starting to go)._ No, sir.

STUART _appears in b. d. and stands and listens_.

_Charlie._ One moment, girl. (_To Reg._) Mither Van Tromp, will you oblige me by leaving the room?

_Reg._ By Jove! The bwass of the man would start a foundwy.

[_Sits chair l. with emphasis._

_Charlie._ Thir, in the future I thall refuth to recognith you.

_Reg._ Thanks, awfully.

_Charlie (taking bank-note from pocket)._ Girl, do you thee thith?

_Polly._ Oh, yes, sir.

_Charlie._ What ith Mith Wortleyth domino like?

_Polly._ Oh, indeed, sir, I don’t dare to tell you.

_Charlie._ Nonthenth! The’ll never know who told. You might ath well make five dollarth.

_Polly._ But Mr. Van Tromp might tell.

_Reg. (with extreme dignity)._ Mr. Van Tromp is too much of a gentleman to either bwibe or tell tales.

_Charlie._ But he’ll lithen all the thame!

_Polly (fearfully)._ She’s going to wear a white silk one with cardinal ribbons, and a black lace veil.

[_Receives note and exits l._

_Charlie (triumphantly)._ Ah! Now I have her.

_Reg._ Deucid sowy to spoil your little dweam, but I fahncy I shall speak to her myself this evening.

_Charlie (gleefully)._ All right. The knowth you are after her money.

_Stuart (coming down)._ Ah! Damon and Pythias together as usual. It really gives one faith in friendship to see how you two fellows run together.

_Charlie._ Mither Thuart, did you ever hear anything more nonthenthical than for Van Tromp to thuppothe that Mith Wortley ith going to thave him from the poorhouth?

_Reg. (with dignity)._ Mr. Stuart will tell you that a born gentleman can do much that is impossible to the canaille.

_Charlie (angrily)._ What do you mean by that, thir?

_Reg._ Pway dwaw your own conclusions.

_Stuart (sitting on desk)._ And so you two bloods intend to question the oracle? I hadn’t credited you with the courage.

_Charlie._ It dothn’t need much when one knowth what the anther will be.

_Reg. (confidently)._ I’m not afwaid for my part, but even “no” wouldn’t make me commit suicide.

_Charlie._ Thath prethuth fortunate for you, but hard on the reth of uth.

_Stuart (quizzically)._ Oh, it’s easy enough to propose to a girl when she isn’t present. You fellows forget that Miss Wortley is a masked battery this evening. It takes pluck to face one of them, and I don’t believe you’ll either of you dare do it.

_Charlie._ I’d like to bet a monkey I will.

_Stuart._ Done! And do the same with you, Van Tromp.

_Charlie._ He hathn’t the money.

_Reg. (glancing scornfully at Charlie)._ You’ll oblige me gweatly by minding your own affairs. Done, Mr. Stuart.

_Enter_ FRED _b. d._

_Stuart._ Ah, Fred, you’ve just missed a rare bit of sport.

_Fred._ What was that?

_Stuart._ Why, we’ve just wagered—

_Reg. (dignified)._ I beg pawdon, Mr. Stuart, but I had always supposed a wager was a confidential mattah.

[_Walks with dignity up r. and exits b. d._

_Charlie._ For onth in hith life, Van Tromp ith right.

[_Bows grandly and goes up l. Exits b. d._

_Stuart (laughing)._ I thought that would get rid of them. Well, have you shown Miss Wortley that you can still be occasionally jolly?

_Fred (gloomily)._ I haven’t had the chance. She must be in her room, for I’ve looked everywhere else for her. Not that it’s much loss. I know I should not have been in the mood to please her.

_Stuart._ That’s because you don’t try hard enough.

_Fred (bitterly)._ Hear the bachelor talk of making love!

_Stuart._ You think me ignorant?

_Fred._ Rather,—judging from the results.

_Stuart (resting hand on Fred’s shoulder)._ Fred, I’m not the kind of a man who lets the world know what he’s thinking about. With all due respect to a young fellow who is not far distant, it doesn’t pay to show one’s feelings too much. But I’m going to tell you my bit of romance as an object-lesson. Two months ago I met the most charming woman in the world, and could no more help falling in love—

_Fred (looking up in surprise)._ What! The ideal bachelor in love?

_Stuart._ I don’t see why two and forty should be debarred from that universal sensation, any more than four and twenty.

_Fred._ Oh, of course not,—only, to make an Irish bull, we had all grown to think you as wedded to celibacy.

_Stuart._ There are divorces and desertions in celibacy as well as in matrimony. Well, I love this woman; I don’t think she loves me,—though you never can tell with a clever one, and sometimes I think she is beginning to like me, because she—because she tries to make me believe she is worse than she is. She delights in making me think she’s a devil, which shows that she is a bit afraid of me. I’ve never said a word of my love to her, but she knows it as well as I do. But nobody else dreams of it. I don’t make my attentions so obvious that every one sees them, and so cause her embarrassment whenever I even come into the room. I don’t cut up rough if she talks or dances with other fellows. I simply try to be pleasant and useful enough to make her prefer my society to that of any other man.

_Fred (sighing)._ Well, of course you are right, but—tell me what you think I ought to do.

_Stuart (walking to desk and holding bell)._ What do you suppose would happen if I rang this?

[_Rings._

_Fred._ That doesn’t answer my question.

_Stuart._ I want to see if the bell won’t save me the trouble.

_Enter_ POLLY, _l. d._

_Polly._ Did you ring, sir?

_Stuart._ Yes, I want to find out if you told the truth about Miss Wortley’s domino?

_Polly (embarrassed)._ Well, sir, Miss Wortley has two dominos, and I don’t know which she intends to wear first.

_Stuart._ What is the other domino like?

_Polly._ It’s blue with silver lace.

_Stuart._ What will you charge me to wear the white and cardinal one this evening, leaving Miss Wortley only the blue and silver one?

_Polly (eagerly)._ Oh, Mr. Stuart, that’s just what I’ve wanted to do, but haven’t dared! Please don’t tempt me.

_Stuart._ Fudge! If you’ll do as I’ll tell you, you shall have a year’s wages to-morrow.

_Polly._ Gracious!!

_Stuart._ Is it a bargain?

_Polly (eagerly)._ Yes, sir. What am I to do?

_Stuart._ H’m. Can you write a good hand?

_Polly._ Ask Mr. Stevens?

_Stuart (reproachfully)._ Oh, Fred!!

_Fred._ I don’t know what she means.

_Polly._ I wrote that note to-day thanking you for the flowers: I write nearly all Miss Wortley’s notes.

_Fred._ Bosh!

[_During letter-writing he surreptitiously dives into inside pocket and
produces glove, handkerchief, faded flowers, and letters tied with
ribbon. Examines letters, and then crosses to mantel, tears them up,
and throws them into fire._

_Stuart._ Good! It couldn’t be better. They’ll think it’s Miss Wortley’s hand-writing. Sit down at that desk and write as I dictate.

_Polly._ Yes, sir.

[_Sits at desk—business of letter-writing._

_Stuart._ “My own: Driven to the verge of desperation by the parasites who cluster about my wealth, I long for nothing but a refuge. This you can give me, and if you cherish one emotion of tenderness for me, you will be in the little morning room at twelve. A.” Address that to Newbank. Now take another sheet. “Reginald: If you have one spark of affection for me, keep me no longer in suspense! I shall be in the little morning room over the supper-room at ten minutes after twelve. Fly then to your loving but unhappy A.” Address that to Van Tromp. Now, Polly, you must deliver those notes in person, get into Miss Wortley’s domino, and be here at that time. Newbank will propose to you, and you must accept him and get rid of him. Then you must do the same to Van Tromp. Understand?

_Polly._ Yes, Mr. Stuart.

[_Rises with two notes in hand._

_Stuart._ And you mustn’t let them find out their mistake till to-morrow.

[_Exits_ POLLY _b. d._

_Fred._ Do you think that’s honourable?

_Stuart._ It’s too soon after dinner for me to discuss ethics. But for you it’s the chance of a lifetime. You know what Miss Wortley is to wear. Go and make yourself agreeable to her, and if her mask gives you courage, tell her that you love her.

_Fred._ You don’t understand. I’m not afraid to tell her that to her face. It’s not the woman I’m afraid of. If she were poor, I could have said to her as I say to myself, fifty times a day, “I love you.” But I can’t say that to her money.

_Stuart._ And so you are going to place your Brunhilde on the top of her gold and then fear to climb the fiery mountain? Why, Fred, tell her that you love her, and leave it for her to decide whether it’s the woman or the wealth you care for.

_Fred._ I can’t bear to give her the chance even to think I’m sordid.

_Stuart._ Nonsense, my boy! Go and tell Miss Wortley that you love her before it’s too late. Make her the prettiest compliment a man can pay a woman, and if she has the bad taste to think it’s her money and not her beauty and sweetness, you are no worse off.

_Fred._ Mr. Stuart, I’ve tried to say it and to write it. I’ve begun sentence after sentence; I’ve torn up letter after letter. It’s no good.

_Stuart (wearily)._ I don’t see anything to be done, except to get your proposal made by proxy. (_Stops short in walk._) By Jove, that’s an idea.

_Fred._ What?

_Stuart (triumphantly)._ I have it. I’ll get into a domino, pass myself off for you, and propose.

[_Goes up back._

_Fred (angrily)._ You’ll do nothing of the kind!

_Stuart._ Why not?

_Fred._ Mr. Stuart, your proposition is simply insulting. A moment since you said that a declaration of love was the greatest compliment a man could pay a woman, and now you would turn it into a joke or trick. Do you think I will allow the woman I love to be so treated?

_Stuart (soothingly)._ All right. We’ll say no more about it.

[_At b.d._

_Fred._ Then give me your word you won’t.

_Stuart._ That’s another matter.

_Fred._ Then I shall at once find Miss Wortley and—

_Stuart (interrupting)._ Tell her all about it. That’s right. You will have told her that you love her.

[_Exits b. d._

_Fred (following)._ Not at all! I shall simply keep near her, and if you make the attempt I shall interfere.

[_Exits b. d._

[AGNES _rises from concealment, peeks out and comes down c. with_ MRS.
V. T.’S _domino and mask on her arm_.

_Agnes._ At last! I began to think I should have to spend the night there,—though I did nearly burst in on them two or three times. And that’s the way men discuss women! (_Scornfully._) So, Mr. Van Tromp, I’m to save you from the poorhouse! And “no” wouldn’t make you commit suicide! And you’re not afraid of what my answer will be, Mr. Newbank! Oh!!! (_Laughs._) I should like to hear their proposals to Polly. I’ve always thought that girl a treasure, but she gets her dismissal to-morrow. The idea of wearing my domino, and telling all those men what I was to wear! And telling Mr. Stevens that she wrote my letters for me! (_Anxiously._) What must he think of me! And the only one of them too who seemed to think I deserve the commonest courtesy. “I could say to Miss Wortley, as I say to myself fifty times a day, I love you.” (_Demurely._) That was nice! I wonder if he— I wonder if Mr. Stuart will propose to me? I never thought he would behave so badly. (_Pacing across stage meditatively._) How can I turn the tables and punish them all? Let me see—(_checking off on fingers_)—the two puppies will be punished by the loss of their bets and—me! Polly will lose her position. Now—

_Enter_ MRS. V. T. _l. d._

_Mrs. V. T._ Oh, Agnes, I can’t find my domino anywhere, and— Why, you have it!

_Agnes (as if seized with an inspiration)._ Frances, you must let me change dominos and masks with you.

_Mrs. V. T._ What for?

_Agnes._ Mr. Stuart has bribed Polly to tell about our dominos,—and he’s going to propose to my blue one.

_Mrs. V. T. (incredulously)._ What,—to you?

_Agnes (embarrassed)._ Oh! That is— Well—he’s— You see it’s—he’s only asking for some one else.

_Mrs. V. T._ Oh, I see! Some one who hasn’t dared?

_Agnes._ Yes. Mr. Newbank is so—

_Mrs. V. T._ Of course. He is shy.

_Agnes._ Very. (_Hurriedly._) And so I thought we could change dominos, and—and—don’t you see?

_Mrs. V. T. (reflectively)._ But then— Wouldn’t— Oh! Why, of course I will. Here, let me help you on with it; and now run along downstairs. The dancing is in full swing.

_Agnes (going up)._ I’ll go at once. (_Turns in b. d._) You will find my domino in my dressing-room.

[_Exits l. d._

_Mrs. V. T. (reflectively)._ And so Mr. Stuart is going to propose to a blue domino—that’s me—on behalf of Mr. Stevens? (_Laughs._) There’s a nice game of cross purposes. Ah, sir, you’ll have to be cleverer than that to— What a chance to beat him! Let me see.

STUART _appears at b. d._

_Stuart._ Not masked yet?

_Mrs. V. T._ Ah! Mr. Stuart, I am ready to name our game of forfeits.

_Stuart (coming down)._ Bravo!

_Mrs. V. T._ You want to win my cousin for Mr. Stevens. Succeed, and you shall name whatever forfeit you choose. Fail, and I set what penalty I please.

_Stuart._ Agreed.

_Mrs. V. T._ But I warn you: I shall stoop to anything rather than be beaten. If a man is honourable he will be at a great disadvantage. Like Faust, I have made a pact with the devil.

_Stuart._ Better take a partner with whom I am on less friendly relations.

_Mrs. V. T._ He is not on so good terms with you as with me. Don’t you know that women are extremes? That they are either a great deal better or worse than men?

_Stuart._ I have always heard that women said spiteful things of their sex, but I don’t think it’s nice of you to make such speeches about the one I care for. One would almost think you were jealous of her.

_Mrs. V. T. (throwing glove on floor)._ There is my challenge to the combat.

_Stuart (picking it up)._ I accept the gage.

_Mrs. V. T. (holding out hand)._ But not to keep it.

_Stuart._ I will only return the glove without the _g_.

_Mrs. V. T._ And without that letter, I prefer to get a new pair.

[_Going up._

_Stuart (following)._ Then it is real war?

_Mrs. V. T._ War, fierce and merciless.

[_Exit_ MRS. V. T. _and_ STUART, _b. d._

POLLY _peeks in l. d., then enters with white domino and mask on arm_.

_Polly._ I didn’t dare to put this on (_putting on domino and mask_) in Miss Wortley’s room for fear she might come in. What will she say when she only finds one? My! I shall have to keep out of her way this evening, or she will want to know who is wearing it. (_Looking down at domino._) Oh, I wish I dared go to Miss Wortley’s dressing-room and look at myself in the glass! (_Walks off, looking behind her._) I will. (_Goes up to l. d. and starts to exit._) Oh, Jiminy!

[_Turns and rushes out b. d._

_Enter_ AGNES _l. d. in domino, and with mask in her hand_.

_Agnes (coming down)._ I changed my mind about going downstairs, for I had rather miss all the dancing in the world than puppydom’s love-making to the back-stairs. I could almost forgive Polly when I think of what I have in store. (_Crosses r. and looks through curtains at bay window._) From my hiding-place, I’ll hear every word of it. (_Goes to mantel and looks at clock._) Quarter to twelve—I’m early!

STUART _appears at b. d. and looks in_.

_Agnes._ Ah!

[_Hurriedly masks herself._

_Stuart (aside)._ That’s the quickest change I ever saw. I only just left her at the door of her room! (_Comes down._) Are you practising lightning transformations?

_Agnes._ Comment ça va-t-il, Monsieur?

_Stuart (regretfully)._ I’m sorry, but I don’t understand French. (_Aside._) Whopper number one.

_Agnes._ Wie gehts?

_Stuart._ Nor German. (_Aside._) Number two.

_Agnes._ Buenas noches, señor?

_Stuart (wearily)._ And on Spanish I’m an entire failure. (_Aside._) The recording angel didn’t catch me that time!

_Agnes._ Will you kindly tell me what you do speak?

_Stuart (gallantly and bowing)._ In your society only the universal language.

_Agnes._ And I don’t understand Volapük.

_Stuart._ Volapük! That’s not the one of which I speak.

_Agnes._ And of what, then?

_Stuart._ To the language which without instruction is known around the world; to the language that’s spoken by all classes, and is never out of fashion; to the language that has no dictionary; yet which possesses the most beautiful vocabulary in the universe.

_Agnes._ I don’t remember any such in my text-book on philology.

_Stuart._ It is too real to be taught in schools. Nor were you old enough to understand it had it been. I speak of the language of love.

_Agnes._ Of course; I suppose it is a universal tongue. (_Satirically._) But so few can speak it well. Don’t you think it ought to be left to the poets?

_Stuart._ I love the future of the human race too much to wish that. Think of the frightful increase of bad rhymers it would cause,—and that too with the markets already overstocked.

_Agnes._ But would that be any worse than to see the average unromantic breadwinner make love? It’s very hard on our sex to appear sympathetic. Most men do it about as successfully as a hippopotamus would waltz.

_Stuart._ Aren’t you a little unfair, Mrs. Van Tromp?

_Agnes._ And so you think I am Mrs. Van Tromp?

_Stuart._ I don’t think it; I know it. Do you think for a moment you could deceive me? But that doesn’t answer my question.

_Agnes._ As to the justice of my criticism on the way men propose? (_With affected coyness._) Perhaps I have had too little experience to speak with knowledge.

_Stuart._ Mrs. Van Tromp would not dare to say that unmasked. Her face would give her tongue the lie.

_Agnes._ I fancy you are the first man who ever turned calling one a liar into a compliment.

_Stuart._ Since that is possible, may not a poetic proposal be also?

_Agnes._ Perhaps. And when I hear one that does not make me want to laugh, I’ll make public recantation.

_Stuart._ It’s a bold man or a fool who’d venture after what you have said. And yet I should like to try.

_Agnes (laughing)._ Why, Mr. Stuart, what would you do if I were to take you seriously and say yes?

_Stuart (with mock resignation)._ Bear it—like a man. But I am quite safe from that danger! I trust you won’t mind if in the passion of the moment I call you Frances.

_Agnes._ This once I’ll condone the liberty.

_Stuart (coming very close to Agnes)._ And if I should so far forget myself as to try and—well, behave as lovers generally do?

_Agnes (retreating)._ Oh, Mrs. Van Tromp is quite safe from that.

[_Slips past_ STUART _and crosses to l._

_Stuart (aside)._ Don’t be too sure of that.

_Agnes._ Well, begin.

_Stuart (crossing to chair c.)._ Now that’s no way to give a lover an opening. I want this to have verisimilitude. In real life you don’t as good as say to the man (_sits very much on the edge of chair c._) sitting on the edge of his chair, ‘Please begin.’ Do let’s make it realistic.

_Agnes (laughing)._ Even to the mitten? Very well. (_Imitating society manner._) I didn’t see you at Mrs. Grainger’s rosecotillion Tuesday, Mr. Stuart.

_Charlie (without)._ Ah! My angel, we meet.

_Agnes (seizing Stuart’s hand)._ Quick! Come!

[_Drags him over to bay window, where she conceals both with curtain._

_Enter_ POLLY, _in mask and domino, and_ CHARLIE _b. d._

_Charlie._ My own! What can I do to thow my gratitude?

_Polly._ If you but knew how I have trembled at my unmaidenly imprudence in writing you!

_Charlie._ My angel, love knowth no prudenth; no boundth can limit it.

_Polly._ And you don’t scorn and despise me?

_Charlie._ Thcorn? Dethpithe? Never.

_Polly._ And you don’t think me unmaidenly?

_Charlie._ It ith impothible. You are nothing but what ith perfect and beautiful.

_Polly (sighing)._ Ah!

_Charlie (sighing)._ Ah! (_Reaches out and takes her hand._) Mith Wortley, did you mean what you thaid in your letter?

_Polly (languishing)._ Can you doubt it?

_Charlie._ And you really love your Cholly?

_Polly (tenderly)._ Oh, Cholly!

_Charlie (kneeling)._ And you really want to marry your Cholly?

_Polly (faintly)._ Oh, Cholly!

REGINALD _appears b. d. and enters_.

_Reg._ Miss Wortley, I have hurwied to your side. And none too soon, it appears.

_Charlie (jumping to his feet and speaking very angrily)._ You thpethimen of the horroth of heredity, you get out of here!

_Polly (sotto voce to Charlie)._ Oh, please don’t make a disturbance! Remember whose house it is! Leave us and I’ll get rid of him and follow.

_Charlie._ My angel, I can refuth you nothing. (_Goes up stage and speaks to Reg._) Thir, you owe your thafety to that lady.

[_Exit b. d._

_Reg. (coming down)._ Miss Wortley, I am deucid sowy that epitome of bad form has been borwing you.

_Polly._ Oh, I don’t mind that. I was only afraid he was going to misbehave.

_Reg._ Aw, the cad’s always doing that, don’tcher know.

_Polly._ Oh, Mr. Van Tromp, what must you think of me!

_Reg._ Think of you? The woman Reginald De Lancey Van Tromp loves is above thought. In but one way can the loveliest of her sex offend me.

_Polly (eagerly)._ Ah! Tell me, so that I may never do it.

_Reg._ By wefusing the heart and hand he (_kneeling_) places at her feet.

_Polly._ Oh! I am faint with too great happiness. (_Leans on Reg._) Reginald, support— Oh, Jiminy! Some one’s coming.

[_Recovers, and rushes up l. to l. b., exit l. d. followed by_ REG.

_Enter_ MRS. VAN TROMP _and_ FRED, _b. d._

_Mrs. V. T. (coming down)._ I told you we should find this room empty.

[_Looks about._

_Fred._ But that doesn’t tell me why you asked me to bring you here.

_Mrs. V. T._ Perhaps to cheat you out of your dance with our host’s pretty daughter.

_Fred._ I might answer you in kind. But it’s fairer to tell you that your mask is no disguise.

_Mrs. V. T._ You know me?

_Fred._ Yes. You are “our host’s pretty daughter.”

_Mrs. V. T._ I am but a poor actress if I have played my part so badly.

_Fred._ Indeed, no. Even now I find it hard to believe, your acting is so perfect. If I had not known your domino, I should never have recognised you.

_Mrs. V. T._ My domino?

_Fred._ I overheard it mentioned. I was sorry to learn your secret, but really I couldn’t help it.

_Mrs. V. T._ It really does not matter. But I am glad you told me. Most men would have kept mum and let me talk on about “our host’s pretty daughter,” and then have never let me hear the last of it.

_Fred._ I’m afraid I’m no better than the rest of my sex, Miss Wortley. With most women I should have done that.

_Mrs. V. T._ And why am I an exception?

_Fred._ I didn’t want to deceive you.

_Mrs. V. T._ Why not?

_Fred._ Because I wanted you to think well of me.

_Mrs. V. T._ Why, I do that already. If you only knew how I respected and admired the men who have been real friends, and not seekers of my money!

_Fred._ Miss Wortley, I thank you for your kind thoughts of me, but you mustn’t think them any longer.

_Mrs. V. T._ Why not?

_Fred._ Because I don’t deserve them. Do you remember our first meeting?

_Mrs. V. T. (aside)._ Gracious! I hope I’m not to be cross-examined. (_Aloud, hesitatingly._) It was on a yacht, wasn’t it?

_Fred._ After that cruise I came back to my desk and bachelor quarters, but neither they nor I have been the same since. It’s always seemed to me as if a bit of heaven had come into my life in those days. Every hour since has been consecrated to an ideal. I have worked as I was never able to work before. And why? Because I was straining every fibre to win money and position enough to be able to come to you and say: “Miss Wortley, I love you as a man must love one so sweet and beautiful. I’m not rich, but if you can care for me enough to make a few sacrifices I will try and keep you from regretting them, by love and tenderness.”

_Mrs. V. T._ But, Mr. Stevens, you seem to forget that the man I marry will be made rich at once. (_Aside._) Ugh, I feel like a brute.

_Fred._ I’ve tried to forget it, but I couldn’t. It has come between us in the past; is it to do so in the future?

_Mrs. V. T._ Mr. Stevens, I can’t tell you my grief in finding you like the rest of my disinterested masculine friends.

_Fred (hotly)._ You think I care for your money?

_Mrs. V. T._ What else can I think? (_Aside._) You cat!

_Agnes (starting to pull aside curtain, sotto voce to Stuart)._ Oh! I mustn’t—

_Stuart (checking her)._ No, don’t interfere, Mrs. Van Tromp. Let the poor fellow take the whole dose while he’s about it.

_Fred (who has gone up back and now comes down)._ Miss Wortley, do you realize what you are saying? In the last minute you have three times deliberately insulted me. Say you don’t love me, if that is so, but don’t impute shameful motives to my love. It is of value to me if worthless to you.

_Mrs. V. T._ Mr. Stevens, frankness under such circumstances is best for all. Put yourself in my place. I am an heiress, with expectations from my father. You acknowledge yourself that you are poor. Don’t blame me if I draw my own conclusions.

_Fred._ But I will blame you, and it is the last time I shall ever trouble you. You ask me to put myself in your place: let us try the reverse. I offer you a love as true and unmercenary as was ever offered a woman. What do I deserve at your hands? Mercy, at least. But instead, you—you have not been content to reject it—you have poisoned it forever.

[_Turns and walks up stage to b. d._ MRS. VAN TROMP _begins to take off
mask_. AGNES _springs from bay window, and rushes forward c._

_Agnes._ One moment, Mr. Stevens. (_To Mrs. V. T. tearfully._) Oh, Frances, how could you?

_Mrs. V. T. (taking off mask)._ I couldn’t. I was unmasking to show him his mistake.

[FRED _stands hesitating, looking from one to the other_. STUART’S _head
through curtains_.

_Fred._ You are not Miss Wortley?

_Agnes (taking off mask)._ No, Mr. Stevens. Miss Wortley never thought you a fortune-hunter. She remembers perfectly the first time she met you. She’s glad she brought a little heaven into your life. She’s glad that you—that you—

_Fred (rushing down stage)._ That I love you?

_Agnes._ Yes.

_Fred._ And you are willing to make the sacrifice?

_Agnes._ Yes.

_Fred._ And you care for me?

_Agnes._ No (_holds out her hand_), I love you.

_Fred (taking and kissing it)._ My treasure!

[_Both retire up back l._

_Mrs. V. T._ Heigho! That’s what comes of wrong-doing. In trying to win my wager, I’ve actually helped Mr. Stuart to beat me.

_Stuart (head through curtains)._ For which I can’t thank you enough!

_Mrs. V. T._ You!

_Stuart._ Exactly! Aren’t you ashamed?

[_Comes out c._

_Mrs. V. T._ Of being defeated? Yes. But don’t be too triumphant. You didn’t win single-handed.

_Stuart._ I certainly did not have much assistance, except from Mrs. Van Tromp.

_Mrs. V. T._ On the contrary, you had the best assistance in the world. I ought to have known better than bet against so powerful a coalition as Mr. Stuart and Cupid. I only hope my behaviour has made me odious to you!

[_Crosses petulantly to r._

_Stuart._ On the contrary, I’m rather fond of real deviltry! So, if agreeable, we’ll settle the stakes at once.

_Mrs. V. T._ I throw myself on your mercy.

_Stuart._ And what mercy would you have shown me, had I lost?

_Mrs. V. T._ Yes, but then I’m a woman.

_Stuart._ Deo gratia.

_Mrs. V. T._ And you know, Mr. Stuart, a woman is never expected to pay her bets.

_Stuart._ There’s one woman who will pay hers to me, and that promptly. Attention, please. As a forfeit, you are to say to me, “I love you.”

_Mrs. V. T._ Ah, Mr. Stuart, don’t make me tell any more untruths!

_Stuart (taking her hand)._ Don’t say it then; tell me without words.

[_Stoops head and they kiss. Sounds of altercation outside._

_Agnes_ (_coming down with_ FRED). What’s that?

CHARLIE _and_ REG. _enter at b. d. and come down_.

_Charlie._ Well, you reprethentative of a graveyard, you juth athk her.

_Reg._ Ask her? I tell you she’s engaged to me. (_Sees Stuart_). Aw, Mr. Stuart, you’ve lost your wager.

_Stuart (to Agnes)._ Has Mr. Van Tromp proposed to you this evening?

_Agnes._ No.

_Charlie (reeling with laughter against mantel)._ Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! Oh, thith ith rich! Oh, I thall die of laughing! Oh, thum one thtop me! To think of the proud and haughty Reginald De Lanthy Van Tromp propothing to the wrong girl,—ha, ha, ha, ho, ho, ho!

_Stuart._ Laugh away, Newbank. Get it all in now, for it won’t last.

_Charlie._ Won’t latht? I don’t underthtand you.

[POLLY, _with domino on her arm, appears at b. d.—looks in, and starts
back as if frightened_.

_Agnes._ Come here, Polly.

[POLLY _comes down r. between_ CHARLIE _and_ REG.

_Stuart._ Here is the minx who can make all clear. Polly, did Mr. Newbank propose to you?

_Polly._ Yes, sir.

_Reg._ Oh, deah, how funny! Haw, haw, haw! But then, people in his station always do take maids. Pwoposing to a servant!

_Polly._ But you proposed to me too, Mr. Van Tromp.

_Charlie (laughing very hard)._ Holy Motheth, but I thall thertainly die of laughing!

_Polly._ Please, Miss Wortley, forgive me?

_Stuart._ Yes. Remember what she has done for (_points to Fred and Agnes_) you two.

_Fred._ And for (_pointing at Stuart and Mrs. V. T._) those two.

_Agnes._ But she must have a lesson.

_Stuart._ Why, we’ve all had a lesson—on the mysterious means Cupid employs to accomplish his purposes.

_Mrs. V. T._ Verily ’tis so:

“Love goes by haps,
Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.”

CURTAIN

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TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

1. Silently corrected obvious typographical errors and variations in spelling. 2. Retained archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as printed. 3. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.