Chapter II: Part 2

You see, my dear sir, this is not an ordinary worldly speculation. We are promoting this company--myself and a few Christian friends--not merely to earn an income for our shareholders--though that we shall do, Mr. Cherry, that we shall do--but also to benefit humanity at large. Think, Mr. Cherry, what a grand thing it will be to be helping the good cause--to be doing good among one's fellow-creatures--and at a profit, Mr. Cherry--at a very handsome profit--that's the beauty of the scheme. Mr. Cherry, as a man not altogether inexperienced in these matters, I say that never--never before has such an opportunity been presented to the investing public of combining the earthly comfort of a certain 15 per cent, dividend with the ennobling--I say the ennobling--satisfaction of furthering the cause of Heaven.

ADAM CHERRY.

Well, to be perfectly frank with you, Mr. Ben Dixon, I am thinking more of the earthly than of the heavenly part of it. I hope I try to do my bit of good in the world, but I never mix the two things up. When I invest my money, what I think about is the return.

MR. BEN DIXON.

Quite right, Mr. Cherry, quite right. We--myself and the other directors--are, perhaps, a little too etherial in these matters. We need among us such a man as yourself, Mr. Cherry--you will join our hoard, Mr. Cherry? You will give us the benefit of your experience-- of your grasp of business?

ADAM CHERRY.

(_Pleased_.) Well, if you really think I could be of any help----

MR. BEN DIXON.

Think it! My dear sir, you are the very man we want. I think, Mr. Cherry--I think you suggested put-ting £8,000 into the affair?

ADAM CHERRY.

Yes, Mr. Ben Dixon. It is a big sum for me. In fact--in fact, it represents nearly all my savings. But the scheme seems a very safe one.

MR. BEN DIXON.

Mr. Cherry do you think that I would allow you to put your money in this thing if I did not know that it was safe? How can we fail! We have the Lord Mayor. (_Confidentially._) I am even in hopes of having the Archbishop of Canterbury. Besides, look at the scheme itself. We buy up and amalgamate all the leading manufactories of temperance drinks throughout the kingdom. My dear sir, do you know the amount that is spent every year in this country on lemonade and ginger-beer alone?

ADAM CHERRY.

Oh, I am quite with you, Mr. Ben Dixon. The business ought to be a good one.

MR. BEN DIXON.

It _is_ a good one. It shall be a better one. Mr. Cherry, in a few years' time we shall not be earning our 15 per cent., no, nor our 30 per cent., but our 100 per cent., and you shall be with us. Here, Mr. Cherry, is an application form. (_He has put it all ready_.) I will make it a personal matter that the full number of shares shall be allotted to you.

ADAM CHERRY.

(_Who has risen, comes to desk. Ben Dixon puts a pen into his hand. He hesitates._) They--they do say one should not put all one's eggs into one basket.

MR. BEN DIXON.

It depends upon the basket I suppose. I should say it would be better to put them all into one sound basket than in half-a-dozen risky ones. (_Laughs._)

ADAM CHERRY.

Yes, that's quite right--quite right. You see I do want a big dividend.

MR. BEN DIXON.

Of course you do--we all do--I mean it is very natural for _you_ to do so.

ADAM CHERRY.

Of course, before it did not matter. But now, Mr. Ben Dixon--now that I'm going to be married I wish if possible to be able to retire from business altogether, and that, of course, with my small capital I could not do unless--

MR. BEN DIXON.

(_Stopping him_.) Mr. Cherry, I will be frank with you. You speak of the very matter that has been in my mind. If you had come to us two or three months ago, and had asked for these shares I should have said "No." I should have said to my brother directors: This is a safe and brilliant scheme, let us keep it to ourselves. Why should we admit this man among us? Let him be content with his two and a half Goschens, his three per cent, debentures. But now, Mr. Cherry, I think of Nelly--my dear little Nelly--and I say, "Come." Come and share with us. That is the line for signature, Mr. Cherry.

ADAM CHERRY.

I have every confidence, Mr. Ben Dixon, both in you and the scheme. (_Signs_). Adam Cherry.

MR. BEN DIXON.

(_Blots paper and takes it up and examines it._) Let me see. The full amount is payable on allotment. Shall we telegraph your brokers at the same time?

ADAM CHERRY.

Oh yes--perhaps that will be the simplest way (_takes form which Ben Dixon hands to him, and writes._) Yes, I'll do so.

MR. BEN DIXON.

It doesn't matter, you know--doesn't matter at all. I will make myself responsible for the amount if it's any convenience to you, Mr. Cherry.

ADAM CHERRY.

May just as well settle the matter now and have done with it. (_Finishes telegram._) That will fix it all right I think.

MR. BEN DIXON.

(_He has folded up the application and has placed it in one of the stamped directed envelopes he has ready. He now crosses and takes telegram and looks at it_.) Ah, one can always tell the man of business, Mr. Cherry--one can always tell the man of business. (_Ben Dixon has previously rung, and now a footman enters._) Take this letter to the post at once, and send this telegram off at the same time. Don't stop for anything.

FOOTMAN.

Yes, sir. (_Goes out_.)

ADAM CHERRY.

Well, you don't want me any more I suppose, Mr. Ben Dixon? I think I'll take a stroll in your pleasant garden.

MR. BEN DIXON.

Do, Mr. Cherry, do. (_Glances out of window. Then turns and shakes his finger playfully at Adam Cherry._) Ah, you rogue--you rogue. I think I see what makes that garden so particularly pleasant just at this moment --Eh?

ADAM CHERRY.

(_Chuckling_.) Well, I----

MR. BEN DIXON.

(_Pushes him towards windows._) Run along to her,

Mr. Cherry. Run along, I don't believe you are a day older than five-and-twenty.

ADAM CHERRY.

A little--little--I'm afraid.

MR. BEN DIXON.

Don't believe it. I don't believe it. (_Cherry goes out, laughing. Ben Dixon watches him out, and then turns round again. He says nothing, but his face expresses his huge satisfaction._)

(_Enter Theodore Travers._)

MR. BEN DIXON.

Ah, my dear boy, so you've come down to see the old folks again--come back to the old nest.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Well, you've done it, Ben.

MR. BEN DIXON.

Done what?

THEODORE TRAVERS.

You are famous at last. You've beaten me. I'm not in it with you this week.

MR. BEN DIXON.

I have for some time enjoyed a certain reputation, I believe.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Among the few that really knew you, yes. Spreading; that's the awkward part of it.

MR. BEN DIXON.

Wh--what do you mean? (_Beginning to grow anxious._)

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Have you seen _The Illustrated Police News_ this week?

MR. BEN DIXON.

My dear Theodore, you know I do not countenance such publications.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Um! You've countenanced it this time right enough. (_Takes "Illustrated Police News" from his pocket, and, opening it, holds it up._) "The Councillor and the Strong Woman. Amusing Scene at the Aquarium."

MR. BEN DIXON.

(_Aghast._) Oh, my----

THEODORE TRAVERS.

(_Fixing paper in front of fable_.) It's such an excellent likeness of you, too. I've had friends of mine in this thing before, but it's never been a bit like 'em. This is a genuine portrait of you. No one could mistake it.

MR. BEN DIXON.

My dear Theodore, I can explain--I can explain everything.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

You generally can. The question is, step-father, will anybody believe you?

MR. BEN DIXON.

Let me tell you the truth.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Don't you waste time, Ben, I know it. You set to work and invent a plausible lie before the mater finds out about it.

MR. BEN DIXON.

No, no, my dear boy. You must hear me. It--it was this way. It was the last day we were in town. I started to go to Exeter Hall.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Yes--many do.

MR. BEN DIXON

But passing the Aquarium, it--it occurred to me----

THEODORE TRAVERS.

That it was a much more attractive place.

MR. BEN DIXON.

(_Virtuously._) No, Theo--that it was my duty as a member of the National Vigilance Society to look in and see if--if----

THEODORE TRAVERS.

If something could not be found out against it.

MR. BEN DIXON.

Precisely. I stopped the cab and went in. I mingled with the godless throng. I even sacrificed myself so far as to speak to one or two of them.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Ladies?

MR. BEN DIXON.

They _may_ have been. I stood them drinks--if that be the correct expression. Not to excite suspicion, I even sipped a little here and there myself. I endeavoured to acquire the spirit of the place.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

From all accounts, you did so to a pretty considerable extent.

MR. BEN DIXON.

It was necessary to my purpose. I went from bar to bar accumulating material. The case was almost complete. Thinking I had had enough--done enough for one evening, I was about to leave when somebody--who said he was a friend of mine--suggested that we should go "behind the scenes." He introduced me to a not unprepossessing young woman, whom he described as the "Female Hercules." I was on the point of putting a few questions to her, when all of a sudden a strange feeling of dizziness came over me. To save myself from falling, I flung out my arms--as any man might have done--and caught hold of the thing nearest to me. Unfortunately, it was the Hercules lady. Mistaking my action, she took me up, and, before I could explain matters, carried me out, and deposited me in the main transept.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

(_He again takes up the paper._) The artist represents her as assisting you by the scruff of the neck, and other things.

MR. BEN DIXON.

It may have been so. I was too much upset to notice details.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

And then the Aquarium attendants completed the business by chucking you out into the street.

MR. BEN DIXON.

I deny it. I was not chucked. 'They perceived that I was unwell, and led me out into the air.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Where my excellent friend, the door-keeper at the Hanoverian, found you putting pennies into a life boat box and trying to get out cigarettes. Ben, that explanation's too thin. I expected something better from you.

MR. BEN DIXON.

You--you don't think it will do?

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Afraid not.

MR. BEN DIXON.

Perhaps you are right, Theo. The world is ever prone to think evil.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Yes; you see it's had a good deal of experience, Ben.

MR. BEN DIXON.

Dear me, it's a very awkward affair--very awkward. Does it mention the name?

THEODORE TRAVERS.

No. Merely refers to you as "a certain guardian of the public morals." (_Looking at the picture again._) Hardly any need to put the name in this case. It would be an insult to the artist.

MR. BEN DIXON.

(_Looking over his shoulder_.) It _is_ like me. I can see that myself.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

They've even got your smile.

MR. BEN DIXON.

Don't gloat, my boy; don't gloat over it.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

I won't. It _is_ hard lines on you. (_Throws paper down on easy-chair._) What will you do?

MR. BEN DIXON.

I don't know. I must think. I wonder if your stepmother's seen it?

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Some friend of yours will send it to her, you bet.

MR. BEN DIXON.

It may not be noticed. You see, fortunately, it is not a paper that circulates much in religious circles.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Not as a rule. This week will probably be an exception.

MR. BEN DIXON.

I wish you wouldn't harp so on the gloomy side of it, Theo. We will put our trust in Providence.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

I should. I've noticed that it's generally on the side of the rogues. (_Strolls towards window._) Don't let the thing lie about. Where's the mater? (_Ben Dixon does not answer_.) In the garden?

MR. BEN DIXON.

Yes--no. I don't know--I don't know where she is.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Poor old Ben! (_Goes out into garden._)

MR. BEN DIXON.

If this gets about I'm done for. What can I do? If it only weren't such a good likeness, or if there was only another member of the Vigilance Society something like me I might put it on to him.

(_Mrs. Ben Dixon has entered. She has sat down, without noticing it, on the paper in arm-chair_.)

I do hope Belinda won't---- (_Turns round and sees Mrs. Ben Dixon_.)

MRS. BEN DIXON.

I want a business chat with you, Ben.

MR. BEN DIXON.

Where's that paper? (_Looks frantically about for the paper_.)

MRS. BEN DIXON.

What's the matter? Lost anything?

MR. BEN DIXON.

No, oh no, my dear, nothing at all. (Aside.) Did he take it with him--or is she sitting on it?

MRS. BEN DIXON.

I want something settled about Ted and Nelly.

MR. BEN DIXON.

Certainly, my dear, certainly. Won't you sit over here, my dear? That chair looks so uncomfortable.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

The chair's all right. It's you who seem to be uncomfortable. (_Looks round and sees him leaning over the back of the chair looking down into it_.) What is it? Am I sitting on anything? (_About to rise_.)

MR. BEN DIXON.

(_Rather alarmed._) No, my dear, nothing whatever. Don't you rise. It's all right. You were speaking about those dear children, Ted and Nelly?

MRS. BEN DIXON.

Difficult to remember what one is talking about with you pirouetting all over the place like a pantomime fairy. I wanted to talk to you about what we could do for them.

They are going back to-morrow morning, and---- (_He peers under the table for the paper._) I'll tell you what it is, Ben, you are doing too much work on that Vigilance Association. It's sapping your brain. Do give the world a rest. Let it go wrong for a bit if it wants to.

MR. BEN DIXON.

I wish I could, my dear. I worry myself too much about others, I know.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

Yes, and I expect that's what the others think too. This is a case where you can trouble yourself about other folks to some advantage--to _them_. We must do something for those children, Ben. It was your fault they lost their money. We must see that they get some thing back again.

MR. BEN DIXON.

But, you see, my dear, they are both so proud. To offer them help would only be to wound them. We should never, Belinda, do anything to wound the susceptibilities of others.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

(_Growing irritable._) I shall do something that will wound yours, Ben, in a minute, if you've got any. There are more ways of offering people help than by slapping them in the face with it. If the thing's done in the right spirit they won't refuse it. I'll see to that.

MR. BEN DIXON.

But, my dear, why should we interfere at all? Dear Mr. Cherry is only too anxious to help them. Why should we deprive that worthy man of the exquisite pleasure of assisting them? My dear, we have no right to --it's his first call--I mean his privilege----

MRS. BEN DIXON.

Ben, you're either a fool or you're pretending to be one. What do you think induced that girl to accept him?

MR. BEN DIXON.

The usual thing, I suppose, my dear. Love that comes to----

MRS. BEN DIXON.

Fiddlesticks! Girls of nineteen don't marry men of fifty-five for love.

MR. BEN DIXON.

Forty-three, my dear. He told me so himself.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

Forty-three, _and_ the rest. _I'm_ not a chicken, and he wore his own beard when he played Macbeth to my child's head. He's fifty-five if he's a day, and she's accepted him because they were both starving--small blame to her for it. What we've got to do is to lift them out of this poverty and give them a start, and then there'll be no need for the poor girl to sacrifice herself.

MR. BEN DIXON.

But think of Mr. Cherry.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

Oh, Cherry's an old fool, as good and kind a one as ever lived--that's better than some of them are--but an old fool all the same. Now come, Ben, I'm going to do my duty by poor dead Hetty's bairns, and you've got to help me. If they were cannibals or converted acrobats with no claim upon you whatever, you'd be eager enough to.

MR. BEN DIXON.

Precisely so, my dear. That is just it. You see, a public philanthropist has no right to indulge in private charities. He is meant for all alike. He embraces mankind. I embrace mankind. You find me two hundred poor medical students with their sisters, needing assistance, and I shall be delighted to receive subscriptions on their behalf. (_Aside_.) Oh, he must have taken it with him.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

I don't doubt it. In this case, you're going to _give_ something to _one_ poor medical student. The other 199 you can find for yourself.

MR. BEN DIXON.

Belinda, I cannot. It grieves me, but I cannot depart from my principles. Charity should be like the sun----

MRS. BEN DIXON.

Yours _is_, Ben. We hear a good deal about it, but don't often see it. We won't argue the matter. My mind's made up. I want £4,000.

MR. BEN DIXON.

Then I'm very much afraid, my dear, you will have to do what a great many other people who want money have to do.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

Do you mean, Ben, that you won't let me have it?

MR. BEN DIXON.

I mean, my dear, I cannot.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

What have you done--blued the lot?

MR. BEN DIXON.

Belinda, your vulgar expressions pain me. There is no need to be violent. Your own little fortune is undoubtedly somewhat involved, but so long as I have a crust----

MRS. BEN DIXON.

I don't want your crusts. I want to know what you've done with all my money. There was a tidy bit of it, and you've had the entire control of it--more fool me. What have you done with it?

MR. BEN DIXON.

I manipulated it, my dear, to the best of my poor ability. Unfortunately, Heaven has not----

MRS. BEN DIXON.

Oh! drop that. I'm tired of your Heaven. It's enough to set anyone against the place always hearing of it in your company. Let's understand the thing plainly. Haven't I got a penny of my own?

MR. BEN DIXON.

Well, I wouldn't go so far as to say that, my dear, but----

MRS. BEN DIXON.

But not much more, I expect. Oh, you villain! _You_

old---- (_He has been standing in one of his customary stained-glass attitudes close to door. Mrs. Ben Dixon with her last sentence rises as if to come to him. In an instant he slips through door, and closes it behind him softly._)

MRS. BEN DIXON.

It serves me right. It serves me right. (_Enter Primrose from window_.) Oh, my dear child, don't you ever marry. It's only your money they want to get hold of.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

Oh, I'm _sure_ he doesn't.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

_He!_ Lord help the child, you haven't done it already, have you?

PRIMROSE DEANE.

(_Confused_.) Oh no--no--I--I meant----

MRS. BEN DIXON.

Don't trust him. Don't trust any of 'em. Have it all settled on yourself, and keep your own eye on it. Oh, to think what a fool I've been!

(_Nelly has entered, followed by Cherry._)

NELLY MORRIS.

What's the matter, aunt? You're worried about something?

MRS. BEN DIXON.

Worried! I'm not worried. I'm mad!

NELLY MORRIS.

What's wrong, aunt?

MRS. BEN DIXON.

What's wrong! Ask what's right! That's the shortest question to answer. Oh, my dear child, your uncle's a villain, and I'm a born idiot, and everything's going wrong for everybody, and I can't help anybody. (_Leans on Nelly's shoulder and begins to half cry._)

NELLY MORRIS.

What is it, auntie, dear?

MRS. BEN DIXON.

Don't ask me, my dear. Don't anybody ask me anything. I can't tell you. Oh that Belinda Greggs could ever develop into such a first prize fool!

PRIMROSE DEANE.

(_She has been sitting on arm of easy-chair, and has taken up the paper_) Oh, here's a portrait of Mr. Ben Dixon.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

(_Glances round and sees a paper in Primrose's hand_) What in? _The Young Man's Christian Herald_, I suppose, under the heading of "Shining Lights"?

PRIMROSE DEANE.

No--no, it's (_reading_) _The Illustrated Police News_.

The what?

MRS. BEN DIXON.

NELLY MORRIS.

Oh, impossible, Primrose, you must----

(_Takes the paper and suddenly becomes silent_)

MRS. BEN DIXON.

(_Snatches it from Nelly, looks at it, then crosses over to Cherry_) Cherry, what do you make of this?

ADAM CHERRY.

(_Takes paper and reads_) "The Councillor and the Strong Woman." The--the gentleman is certainly very much like him.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

The whole thing is like him.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

(_To Nelly_.) Do you think it _is_ Mr. Ben Dixon?

NELLY MORRIS.

I can't say. I didn't look at it very closely. Come upstairs, dear, and show me your new hat, will you?

(_The two girls go off talking._)

ADAM CHERRY.

It can't be, you know.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

But there he is. What does it say about it?

ADAM CHERRY.

"The Councillor at the Aquarium. A shameful spectacle (see illustration) was witnessed by our artist at the Aquarium on Monday evening last. A certain guardian of the public morals, well known as a philanthropist, and a member of the Vigilance Society----"

MRS. BEN DIXON

That's Ben right enough. There can't be two of 'em. Go on.

ADAM CHERRY

"Appears to have thought fit to visit this place of entertainment on the evening in question. Not content with insulting various respectable people among the audience, he proceeded, in company with his degraded companions, to force his way behind the scenes. There, meeting Mdlle. Bruno, the Female Hercules, and pretending to recognise her as his long-lost cousin, he immediately threw his arms around the lady's neck, and endeavoured to kiss her. Fortunately, Mdlle. Bruno is a lady well able to protect herself. Taking the villain up by the collar of his coat and the------ (_Sinks his voice._) she promptly carried him out and handed him over to the Aquarium officials, who finally rid the building of his presence by the simple but effective process known as chucking. We trust that----"

MRS. BEN DIXON.

That will do. That's enough. I wonder if I'm going to find out anything more about him to-day?

ADAM CHERRY.

It's impossible. There's been a mistake.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

There has been, and I'm the poor ninny that's made it.

ADAM CHERRY.

If anyone had asked me for my ideal of respectability--

MRS. BEN DIXON.

Respectability! Man alive, don't talk about it. The very sound of the word makes me ill. It's been my curse from a child. I refused to play hopscotch at eight years old because I thought it wasn't respectable, and went sliding instead and was nearly drowned. It was I who persuaded poor father to give up the fried-fish shop because fried fish wasn't respectable, and he went into oysters and ruined himself in a year. I was earning twenty pounds a week at the Halls, and what did I do? Threw it up and went on the stage as principal boy at five pounds--all to be respectable. And then the stage wasn't respectable enough for me, so I married Travers, and _he_ wasn't respectable enough for me. And what has it all ended in? What has this insatiable craving for respectability brought me to? Why, I'm the wife of a man who has been chucked--chucked from the Aquarium.

ADAM CHERRY

It is certainly very disappointing.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

And that's not all.

ADAM CHERRY

What! Has he been chucked from somewhere else too?

MRS. BEN DIXON

No--at least, not that I know of. I mean that's not the worst that I've found out. I couldn't tell that poor child, but, Cherry, I'm ruined. He's swindled me out of all my fortune--all the money that Travers left me. I haven't a penny left to call my own.

ADAM CHERRY.

Belinda! For Heaven's sake don't say he's a swindler.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

Why not? He is my own husband. I suppose I can say what I like about him. Let's have _some_ consolation. (_Noticing Cherry's distraction._) What's the matter with you?

ADAM CHERRY.

(_Wildly._) He's got £8,000 of my money. Nearly all I have. I've put it all into a company of his.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

(_Aghast_.) You? Oh, why did I bring you down here? Oh, you poor lamb! Oh, what a miserable woman I am!

(_Enter Theodore._)

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Ah, step-mater, I've been looking all over the place for you. (_Noticing the open paper on the floor where Cherry has dropped it, and, taking in the facts, he looks from one to the other. Then picks up paper, folds it, and puts in his pocket._) Finding out the truth about Ben, I see. Always a very painful matter finding out the truth about people.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

Theodore, your step-father's a scoundrel.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Don't put him down to me, mater. He wasn't my selection. _You_ chose him for me.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

Why did you ever let me marry him? _You_ must have seen through him. _You're_ the old experienced person. Why didn't you warn your poor silly step-mother? Why didn't you stop me?

THEODORE TRAVERS.

My dear Bella, if I were to advise everybody, and they were to follow my advice, the world would become so intensely sensible as to be utterly uninteresting. Besides, there's really nothing much to be upset about. You see, fortunately, the lady was a _strong_ woman. Now, if she had been a _weak_ one, why----

MRS. BEN DIXON.

That's not all, Theodore. I could have got over that. I shouldn't have been the first woman to find out that a man's respectable only so long as he thinks you can see him. But he's ruined me, Theodore. He's lost all my money for me.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

(_Whistles._) And found it for himself, I suppose.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

That's just what _I_ suppose too. And not content with that, he's cheated poor old Cherry here out of £8,000.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

(_Looks across at Cherry, who is standing utterly crushed._) "The Anti-Alcoholic and Mineral Water Union, Limited?"

ADAM CHERRY.

(_With a groan._) Yes, I signed the application for 200 shares not an hour ago. He said he'd see that they were allotted to me.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

I should say you could rely upon them. Are they settled for?

ADAM CHERRY.

I expect so by now. He suggested that I should telegraph to my brokers at the same time.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

And you did so? Of course, you would. (_Looks at watch_). Four o'clock--too late to do anything to-day. I will go up first thing to-morrow morning and see if anything can be done. Not that I expect anything _can_. Ben's got his failings, but he _is_ a good business man. I'll give a look into your affairs at the same time, mater. I don't suppose you'll get anything back, but it will be interesting to find out where it's all gone to.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

(_Rising with grunt of disgust_) Ah! and to think I've got to live with it, and to call it "my dear" when company's present. I'll make up for it in private. Theo, keep an eye on me for a bit. Don't let me get at him unless you want to see me doing my six months' hard for wringing his neck. (_Goes out_)

THEODORE TRAVERS.

You trust him, mater. He won't let you get at him. (_To Cherry_) Don't let Ben see that you suspect anything, or he'll----

(_Primrose appears at window_)

PRIMROSE DEANE.

(_Looking in_) Come on, Theodore. I'm waiting for you.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

I know you are. You shall be rewarded anon. I've just got to talk a little business with Mr. Cherry (_Puts his hand on Cherry's shoulder, and takes him towards door._) Come up to my study. We shan't be interrupted there.

It's so very kind of you.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Not at all--not at all. (_Aside._) Good material for a financial novel. (_They go off._)

(_Primrose and Nelly come in from garden_.)

PRIMROSE DEANE.

Nelly! something very serious is going on here. Mr. Ben Dixon's been doing something that he oughtn't.

(_She sits before piano, touching the keys softly, making a faint suggestion of music here and there throughout the conversation_). I'm afraid it's a common failing, dear.

Yes--but he's been doing it more than usual. I don't like that man. Ted doesn't like him either. He says he is an oily old scoundrel.

NELLY MORRIS.

Ted might speak a little more respectfully of his host.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

Oh, he's not our host. It's _Mrs_. Ben Dixon--and besides that was only to _me_, you know.

NELLY MORRIS.

Oh!

PRIMROSE DEANE.

I never could make out why Mrs. Ben Dixon married him. She's so jolly. (_Musingly._) One does come across some very ill-assorted couples--very. When are you going to be married, Nelly?

NELLY MORRIS.

Very soon, I think.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

May I be bridesmaid?

NELLY MORRIS.

Oh, there won't be any bridesmaids, dear, or anything of that sort. We shall just go into the church, our two selves, come out, and go away.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

No breakfast?

NELLY MORRIS.

( Shakes her head and smiles.) No fuss of any kind.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

No dress! No flowers! No presents! No people!

No cake! (_Nell shakes her head_.) How will you know that you're married?

NELLY MORRIS.

(_A little bitterly._) I shall wake to the fact soon enough.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

Nelly, didn't you ever have a young lover? Mr. Cherry's awfully nice and good, but you know what I mean--somebody handsome, and big, and impudent. Who---- (_With a girl's quickness notices the trembling of Nelly's lip._) Was it very long ago?

NELLY MORRIS.

(_Very low._) I think so--very, very long ago.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

What happened? Did you quarrel?

NELLY MORRIS.

No, dear. Only like Jamie in the ballad, he hadn't any siller and Ted and I hadn't any siller, and----

PRIMROSE DEANE.

And so you're going to marry "Auld Robin Gray." Oh, Nelly, is it too late? There's a lot of siller in the world, but there isn't much love. Is it too late, dear?

NELLY MORRIS.

Yes.

(_Enter Jack, with hat and stick in hand, ushered in by servant._)

SERVANT.

Mrs. Ben Dixon won't be long, sir. (_Goes out_.)

PRIMROSE DEANE.

Oh, Mr. Medbury! (_Advances to him and shakes hands._)

JACK MEDBURY.

How d'you do, Miss Deane? (_Shaking hands with Nelly, who has risen, a little constrainedly._) How are you, Miss Morris?

PRIMROSE DEANE.

Mrs. Ben Dixon will be so glad to see you, I know. She was saying only this morning how sorry she was you hadn't been able to come down.

JACK MEDBURY.

Well, I'm ashamed to say I haven't come to see Mrs. Ben Dixon now. (_The girls look surprised._) I've really come more to see Ted. Is he here?

PRIMROSE DEANE.

(_Anxiously._) There's nothing happened?

JACK MEDBURY.

Nothing to do with him. It's a matter I wanted to consult him about, that's all.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

I'll go and find him for you.

JACK MEDBURY.

Oh, it's a shame to trouble you.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

It's brutal, isn't it? (_She goes out laughing._)

JACK MEDBURY.

(_After a pause; he and Nelly seem careful not to look at one another._) How is Ted? All right?

NELLY MORRIS.

Yes, he's very much better. He seems more cheerful.

JACK MEDBURY.

Ah, yes, things are looking a bit brighter for him, I hope. Change of luck's better even than change of air for putting new life into a man, I should think.

NELLY MORRIS.

How--how are _you_ getting on?

JACK MEDBURY.

Me? Oh, much the same as usual. I suppose _I_ ought to be a little luckier now, if there's any truth in the old adage.

NELLY MORRIS.

(_Still not looking at him--after a pause._) Jack, can you forgive me?

JACK MEDBURY.

There's nothing to forgive, Nelly.

NELLY MORRIS.

Yes there is, Jack--a lot. I've used you very badly. Any other man would hate me and despise me. But--but I don't want you to, Jack. (_Leans over over her book. A pause._)

JACK MEDBURY.

There's not much fear of that, Nelly. I can never tell you--I had better not try to, perhaps--what I feel--what I shall always feel towards you. It isn't hate, Nelly. We shall be drifting farther and farther apart, out of sight of one another. Think of me--when you do think of me--as kindly as I shall ever think of you. It will be a help to me to know that you are doing so.

(_Nelly has risen, and they stand facing each other. Yielding to a sudden impulse, she raises her face to his and their lips meet. Then with a low cry she pushes him from her, and goes out._)

(_Enter Ted and Cherry._)

TED MORRIS.

Hulloa, Jack, old man, anything up?

JACK MEDBURY.

Yes, something rather important. I thought I'd just run down and see you about it. (_Shaking hands with Cherry._) You're not looking too well, Mr. Cherry.

ADAM CHERRY.

I'm a little worried, my dear boy--a little worried.

JACK MEDBURY.

Oh, I'm so sorry. Well, look here, I'll talk about this matter to Ted, then. I won't trouble you with it.

ADAM CHERRY.

No, dear boy; no. If it's about anybody else's worries it will help me to forget my own. What is it? Nothing wrong with you, I hope?

JACK MEDBURY.

No, it's about other people. (_Commencing to take paper from his pocket._) Have you seen _The Illustrated Police News_ this week?

ADAM CHERRY.

(_Grasping what is coming._) Yes--I have. What do you know about it?

JACK MEDBURY.

Oh! Oh, nothing (_unfolding paper_), except that the portrait of the gentleman in the centre picture--drawn by a chum of mine who happened to be present, and sent to the paper for a joke--seems to me an excellent likeness of your friend Mr. Ben Dixon. Who do you say it is? (_Hands paper to Cherry._)

TED MORRIS.

(_Taking paper from Cherry._) Great Scott! it _must_ be Ben Dixon.

ADAM CHERRY.

Oh, it is. There's no question of doubt. Young Travers knows all about the matter. It _is_ Mr. Ben Dixon.

JACK MEDBURY

Mrs. Wheedles says it isn't.

TED MORRIS.

Mrs. Wheedles? What does she know about it?

JACK MEDBURY.

She says she knows the party very well indeed, and that his name is--Wheedles!

TED MORRIS

Wheedles!

JACK MEDBURY.

The long-lost Wheedles!

ADAM CHERRY.

Impossible!

JACK MEDBURY.

So I explained to her. I told her that he was an eminent philanthropist and that his name was Ben Dixon. She said she didn't care what he was or what he was called: his real name was Wheedles, he was her lawful married husband, and if we would bring her face to face with him she would precious soon prove it.

(A pause. The three men look at one another.)

ADAM CHERRY.

Well, from what I've found out to-day, I should say he was villain enough for anything.

TED MORRIS.

And from what I've suspected for a pretty long time, I should say the same.

JACK MEDBURY.

What are we to do? Mrs. Wheedles says she'll have the law on him.

TED MORRIS.

Why, do all we can as good citizens to assist Mrs. Wheedles and the law. It will be a precious good thing for aunt to get rid of the old humbug.

ADAM CHERRY.

We must go to work cautiously you know, Ted, or we may only make matters more unpleasant for your aunt than they are. Mrs. Wheedles may be mistaken.

TED MORRIS.

I hope to goodness she isn't. I wonder how we can find out?

JACK MEDBURY.

Oh, by-the-bye, she gave me this too (_produces photo and shows it_). The last portrait of Wheedles--taken four years ago. (_Ted takes paper, and compares photo with paper._) Should you say 'twas the same man?

TED MORRIS.

(_Examining_.) The whiskers make such a difference. Hadn't she got a photo of him with some hair on his face?

JACK MEDBURY.

No. I asked her that. Wheedles seems to have always lived a clean-shaven life.

TED MORRIS.

I wish we could get Ben Dixon to shave himself.

JACK MEDBURY.

Yes; that would be the thing.

ADAM CHERRY.

Yes; but it's no good talking about that. He's hardly likely to do that to please us. No, this is a matter that we must go to work about cautiously. Now, you come with me, Jack, and we will talk it over with young Travers (_moving with Jack towards door_). You stop here, Ted. We'd better not be all together. It will look as if something was the matter and we must keep the thing quiet. (_Cherry and Jack go off talking_.)

TED MORRIS.

(_Crosses, and sitting on the easy chair enjoying the paper._) By Jove! Old Ben at the Aquarium--drunk and----

(_Ben Dixon is heard whistling "There is a happy land." Ted, hearing him, pushes paper under cushion. Crosses to fire whistling "Get your hair cut." Enter Ben Dixon._)

MR. BEN DIXON.

(_Looking about._) You haven't seen my spectacles anywhere, have you, Ted?

TED MORRIS.

No, Mr. Ben Dixon. Did you leave them here?

MR. BEN DIXON.

Yes, I wish you'd look on the garden seat. I may have left them there. Do you mind?

TED MORRIS.

Oh, certainly. (_Goes out through window. Ben Dixon hastily darts to chair and, moving cushion, finds paper._)

MR. BEN DIXON.

(_Seizing it with a cry of joy_.) Ah! So it _was_ here all the time. Theo must have slipped it there when he heard Bella coming. What a bit of luck. They've none of them seen it. (_Looking at it_) Oh, it is like me. If I could only disguise myself for a little while, till----

(_Re-enter Ted. Ben Dixon hides paper under his coat._)

TED MORRIS.

No, I can't see them.

MR. BEN DIXON.

Oh, it's all right, my dear boy. I've found them, thanks. They were in my pocket all the time. So silly of me, wasn't it? (_Laughs, and goes out, whistling._)

(_Enter Primrose by window._)

PRIMROSE DEANE.

(_Looking in_) Business over?

TED MORRIS.

For the present--could it stay for a moment when pleasure in the person of Miss Deane presents herself? (_Bows._)

PRIMROSE DEANE.

(_Curtseying._) I thank you, fair sir. How very agreeable we've become all of a sudden.

TED MORRIS.

"Become!" Ain't I always agreeable?

PRIMROSE DEANE.

No. Not when you talk about going away and never coming back, and say you hope it will be a long while before you see any of us again.

TED MORRIS.

I--I don't think I said I "hoped" it would be a long while. I think I said I _feared_ it might be.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

Oh, well, it's all the same. You needn't go away at all unless you liked.

TED MORRIS.

(_Apologetically._) You see my examination is coming on pretty soon now.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

Well, anyhow, you could come down again afterwards. (_A pause--pettishly as she crosses to window._) But there! of course if you want to avoid any chance of ever seeing any of us any more why---- (Turns her back on him.)

TED MORRIS.

(_Speaking low and earnestly._) It would be better perhaps if I did avoid seeing---- one of you any more.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

Oh, what an unkind thing to say! Which one? Why?

TED MORRIS.

Because I'm afraid that if I saw very much more of her----

PRIMROSE DEANE.

Of _her!_

TED MORRIS.

Of her--I might make a fool of myself. (_A pause_.)

PRIMROSE DEANE.

(_Who shows she fully understands his drift--coquettishly._) In--in any particular sort of away?

TED MORRIS.

In a way that men often do make fools of themselves, Miss Deane. Perhaps we'd better change the conversation.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

I--_I_ think it's ra-rather interesting.

TED MORRIS.

(_With sudden eager excitement._) Miss Deane--Primrose--do you mean that you could ever----

MRS. BEN DIXON.

(_Without._) Primrose--Primrose. (_Ted stops. Primrose starts, and seems irritated._) (_Calling louder_.) Primrose.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

(_Calling._) Yes, Mrs. Ben Dixon, I'm coming. (_To Ted_.) Don't go away. I'll be back again in a minute. (_Runs off._)

TED MORRIS.

By Jove! Am I awake or dreaming! She _must_ have meant she----

(Enter Theo.)

THEODORE TRAVERS.

(_He is smoking a cigarette._) Oh, I thought Primrose was here.

TED MORRIS.

Yes. She--she'll be back in a minute, I think.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Oh. Just give her that. (_Hands him a letter._) Tell her not to be alarmed at the seal. It's only from her guardian--the Lord Chancellor.

TED MORRIS.

The Lord Chancellor!

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Yes; didn't you know? She's a ward in Chancery.

TED MORRIS.

No--I--I thought it was only heiresses who were wards in Chancery.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Well, you'd call her an heiress, I suppose. She'll be worth about two thousand a year. (_A pause._)

TED MORRIS.

(_With a slight laugh, and by a great effort, speaking in natural easy tones._) I--I thought she was a poor little penniless orphan--dependent on Aunt Bella.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

No; she doesn't suggest the heiress a bit, does she? Just as well she doesn't, perhaps. One doesn't have to be keeping such a continual look out for the fortune-hunting crew. She'll want to see me about that letter, I expect. I shall be down on the Putting Green. (_Goes out._)

TED MORRIS.

(_Bitterly._) Yes, I was dreaming. This is the awakening. An heiress with two thousand a year, and I with hardly a second coat to my back! A smart pair they'd have said we were--Nelly and I. Damn the money!

(_Enter Primrose._)

PRIMROSE DEANE.

(_Running over to him._) I haven't been long, have I?

TED MORRIS.

(_Turning away from her._) Haven't you? It's seemed a long time. (_Handing her the letter without looking at her._) I think Theodore wants to see you about this letter. He's in the garden.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

(_She takes the letter but hardly glances at it._) Don't--don't you want to see me? You--you were going to ask me if--if I meant--something or other.

TED MORRIS.

(_Desperately._) Miss Deane, I--I acted a little strangely just now. Please try to forget it. I--I don't think I quite knew what I was doing.

PRIMROSE DEANE

I will try to forget it, Mr. Morris.

(_Enter Mrs. Ben Dixon and Jack_.)

MRS. BEN DIXON.

(_As they come on_.) Well, drat the boy, you'll stop and have a cup of tea, and a bit of seed cake. You've got time for that?

JACK MEDBURY.

Well, I won't say no to that.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

Um--well, it's surprising that you don't. (_To Primrose._) Ring the bell, dear, and let's have some tea up. Lord help the child, what's the matter with _you?_

PRIMROSE DEANE.

Nothing, Mrs. Ben Dixon.

(_Cherry and Nelly enter._)

MRS. BEN DIXON,

For goodness sake, look it then. There's no need for the whole house to be like a funeral party. Ted, do go and find Theodore. That tongue of his will be of some use for once in a way. Tell him that if he'll come in he can have all the conversation to himself--that ought to bring him. (_Ted goes out by window_.) We'll have _somebody_ cheerful about.

NELLY MORRIS.

Shall I see to the tea, aunt? You are looking so worried.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

No--no, child. Let me be doing something, then

I don't think. What's brought that artist friend of yours down in such a hurry? There's nothing wrong with Ted, is there?

NELLY MORRIS.

No--I don't think so, aunt.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

Um--just the afternoon for it to happen if there was. Troubles always come together in this world, and they don't even make the usual reduction for taking a quantity.

(Enter Theodore and Ted by window.)

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Want me, mater?

MRS. BEN DIXON.

Yes, I do--look at us all. Did you ever see a collection of people looking more as if they'd just been fined forty shillings all round? We want some of your light philosophical conversation. Make us a bit cheerful.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

(_Looks round._) Too big an order for me, mater. You want a soothing and elevating influence here. Where's Ben?

MRS. BEN DIXON.

Don't you try to irritate me with that step-father of yours, Theodore, or you and I----

(Enter servant.)

SERVANT.

Did you ring, ma'am?

MRS. BEN DIXON.

Yes, bring the tea, and tell Davis to----

(_Enter Ben Dixon. He has shaved himself. He enters singing. The servant remains, staring at his master._)

MRS. BEN DIXON.

(_Staring aghast at Ben Dixon._) Lord save us all! What's the man done to himself!

(_Cherry, Jack, and Ted have been talking together. They have not yet looked at Ben Dixon. On hearing this, Cherry starts and looks rounds then whips out the photo of Wheedles from his pocket, and looks from it to Ben Dixon. Ted and Jack look over Cherry's shoulder._)

MR. BEN DIXON.

(_Sweetly._) Only shaved, Sweety. (_Looks round at them all_). How do you like me?

TED MORRIS.

(_In an excited whisper_). By Jove! it _is_----

ADAM CHERRY.

Quiet.

Curtain.

THE THIRD ACT.

_Cherry's sitting-room at Mrs. Wheedles'. A comfortable, old-fashioned room furnished in good substantial style. Cherry and Mrs. Wheedles discovered. Cherry smoking pipe in his easy chair before fire. Mrs. Wheedles sits uncomfortably on extreme edge of the other easy-chair._

MRS. WHEEDLES.

And you really think, he'll come?

ADAM CHERRY.

Tolerably sure of it, Mrs. Wheedles. I flatter myself I baited the hook pretty artfully. I wrote him that if he could call here about four o'clock to-day I could introduce him to a lady who I knew took great interest in his schemes, and that I thought some advantage might result from the meeting. (_Chuckles_.) And so I hope it will.

MRS. WHEEDLES.

And he said he would?

ADAM CHERRY.

He replied that he would not allow such an opportunity for benefiting the human race to escape him for worlds, and that he would be here to the minute.

MRS. WHEEDLES,

(_Glances at clock over mantel_.) It's twenty minutes to four now.

ADAM CHERRY.

(_Looks at his watch._) Ah, that's five minutes fast. Mrs. Ben Dixon's rather late though. She said she'd be here at half-past three.

MRS. WHEEDLES.

How has she taken it, poor woman?

ADAM CHERRY.

Well, of course it's a very unpleasant position for her, but, between ourselves, I fancy she will be very glad if it turns out that he _is_ your husband, and, consequently, not hers. I expect that's why she's so anxious to be in the "show," as she calls it. She says she wants to see the truth for herself, and fix him down.

MRS. WHEEDLES.

She hasn't said a word to him about it, I suppose?

ADAM CHERRY.

She hasn't had a chance--yet. They quarrelled over money matters (_groans to himself_) and other things, and she left him before she ever heard of this.

MRS. WHEEDLES.

Ah, she could never really have loved him, Mr. Cherry. (_Wipes away a tear._)

ADAM CHERRY.

I'm inclined to agree with you there, Mrs. Wheedles. (_He crosses to window, looking at his watch._) I wish she'd come.

MRS. WHEEDLES.

(_Crying._) Such a good man as he was--before he went wrong. (_Bell heard._) She starts up. Oh Lord, that's him, I feel it in my bones.

ADAM CHERRY.

(_Looking out of window._) Your bones have misled you, Mrs. Wheedles. It's Mr. Travers, and--(_looking out further_), no, it isn't big enough for Mrs. Ben Dixon.

MRS. WHEEDLES.

Oh dear, it gave me quite a spasm. I wish I didn't feel in such a fluster.

(_The door at back is opened by a maid, and Theodore enters followed by Primrose. Mrs. Wheedles slips quietly out._)

ADAM CHERRY

(_Greeting Theodore._) Where's Mrs. Ben Dixon?

THEODORE TRAVERS.

She'll be here in a minute. It occurred to her when we got to Paddington Station that she hadn't had any lunch, and that this wasn't a scene to be gone through on an empty stomach. So we left her there laying in a beefsteak and a bottle of stout. Miss Deane has come with us. She thought she would like to see Nelly.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

(_Advancing and shaking hands with Cherry._) Yes, Mr. Cherry. Do you know if she's in?

ADAM CHERRY.

She's upstairs all alone, my dear. She'll be so pleased to see you, I know.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

Oh, I'll run up to her, then. (_Moves towards door._)

ADAM CHERRY.

Yes, do, my dear. (_Following her._) Let me----

PRIMROSE DEANE.

(_Stopping him._) No, don't trouble, Mr. Cherry. I know my way. (_Opens door, and goes out._)

THEODORE TRAVERS.

I say--I suppose there's no where in this room where I could hide, is there? (_Looks round_.) It will be a lovely scene, you know--quite a family group, Ben and his two wives. (_Enthusiastically_.) Why, such an opportunity may not occur again for years. Can't you put me behind these curtains? (_He is by window_.)

ADAM CHERRY.

Oh, my dear boy, impossible!

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Um! 'Twould be awkward I suppose. Pity! (_hopefully,_) What sort of a keyhole have you got? (_Crossing to door, Right._)

ADAM CHERRY.

(_Laughs._) Not much good to you, I'm afraid. You can't get the key out.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

(_Who has opened the door--the key being outside--trying it._) Ah, no encouragement to an artist anywhere here. I shall have to pump the scene out of the mater afterwards, and her accounts are always so painfully idealistic.

(_Ted enters._)

Hulloa, Ted!

TED MORRIS.

Hulloa! You here?

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Yes. (_Looks at him._) You've been ploughed then?

TED MORRIS.

Who told you?

THEODORE TRAVERS.

You did, by your face. What does it feel like?

TED MORRIS.

(_With a cynical laugh_) Do you want to make notes?

THEODORE TRAVERS.

(_Taking out his note-book_) If you are sure you don't mind.

TED MORRIS.

Not at all. Delighted to be of service to the cause of literature. Now let me see how does a man feel. Well, at first he feels sick and dazed.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

(_Writing_) Yes.

TED MORRIS.

And then he gets mad and curses himself and the world and everybody in it; and feels----

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Half a minute, old chap, I am not a typewriter.

TED MORRIS.

----and feels that he'd like to go to the devil only he hasn't got the travelling expenses.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Quite right. The expensiveness of vice I have always considered to be virtue's greatest safeguard. Poor people can only afford to go as far as the dogs. Yes?

TED MORRIS.

Oh, and then--oh, then he feels very weary of the whole thing and wishes that he could get away from it all, and go to sleep--for a long time. (_Throws himself in chair._)

ADAM CHERRY.

Oh, come, you mustn't despair. You've only been "spun," as you fellows call it, for a few months.

TED MORRIS.

Oh, no, it's nothing very terrible to be "spun," if you've got anything to spin on.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Yes--a top spins best when it's full of air--a man doesn't.

ADAM CHERRY.

You see, you won't let anybody help you, Ted.

TED MORRIS.

(_Rising._) Oh, that's only my nonsense, Mr. Cherry. We're not paupers. (_To Theodore._) Are you coming upstairs to see Nelly?

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Yes, yes; I'll come up with you now. How is she?

TED MORRIS.

Oh, not too jolly. You'll be able to make a few notes. (_They go out_.)

ADAM CHERRY.