Steven. Sam has told you?
Louise. It isn't true what he says?
Mrs. Carley. [Bursting out, as the strain breaks.] That everything's gone? Everything!
[Mrs. Carley comes to Steven.
Steven. Yes, it's true!—
[He moves up.
Mrs. Carley. We haven't a cent?—not a penny! for car fare! for theatre tickets! nothing for our wash bills, or to go away with in the summer!
Louise. Georgiana's money gone too—now, Steve?
Mrs. Carley. As well as Louise's and mine?
Georgiana. Yes, mine's gone too now, but I'm going to take it just as sensibly as Louise did before me.
Mrs. Carley. She had yours to fall back on.
Georgiana. And I'm going to take myself off your hands, and Steve is perfectly capable of getting some dignified position and taking care of you and Louise.
Mrs. Carley. Yes, I can imagine what that means! A flat with rooms like a string of buttons, mantelpiece beds and divans! and all your friends trying to get into the bathroom when they are looking for the hall door to get out!
[Coast comes in from the Right. They all look at Sam.
Georgiana. Do you think Sam has a place here in what we may say now?
Louise. Why not? He's my cousin.
Mrs. Carley. Yes. And the only one of us now anyway who has a cent.
Louise. I don't think we can expect much help from Sam as to money.
Coast. That shows you don't know me.
Louise. [Going to Coast.] You'll help us?
Coast. I've offered to make up every cent Steve's lost; ask Georgiana.
Georgiana. Yes, Sam offered to make a "trade" with me—
Mrs. Carley. How?
[Looks at Georgiana.
Georgiana. To make up Steve's losses if I'd marry him.
Mrs. Carley. [Quietly to Coast.] Sam! It's too good to be true.
Coast. So Georgiana thinks.
Louise. [Angrily.] You won't do it?
Georgiana. No, I don't love your cousin.
Mrs. Carley. Don't love him! What do you owe us? Louise loved Steve and what good did it do her? You've got the chance to make up for your brother!
Steven. That's not Georgiana's duty,—to make up for me.
Mrs. Carley. You can't do it yourself, and you don't want your wife to starve, do you.
Georgiana. Louise won't starve.
Louise. [To Georgiana.] You could save us and you won't!
Georgiana. I don't love Sam.
Mrs. Carley. Don't "love"? Did Molly Packer from Toledo love the Duke of Birmingham? and isn't she happy now?
Georgiana. I don't know, I have my doubts.
Mrs. Carley. Doubts! Oh, doubts!
Georgiana. That's not the point, mother. I'm not going to marry Sam.
Mrs. Carley. Oh, very well, then, have your way.
Georgiana. I will, mother.
Mrs. Carley. [Going to the sofa.] Don't consider my way at all.
Georgiana. I won't, mother, since you ask me not to.
Mrs. Carley. But I'll tell you this, Georgiana, you're just as bad as Steve! We must shake off both of you. Louise must get a divorce and marry again. Look what other widows have done before her.
[Louise goes to her mother and takes her hand.
Georgiana. Mother! Louise!
Louise. Well, why not?
Mrs. Carley. Certainly!
Georgiana. [Goes to them.] No! Listen! You must stand by Steve, both of you. You ought to do it out of affection, for, after all, whatever you've got of friends and position and the things you value he gave you! But never mind that! You ought to stand by him out of loyalty,—but never mind that! You've got to stand by him because if you ruin him you'll ruin yourselves. You and mother could never hold up your heads again in our world—in the world you love—if you left Steve. After all, though our world may be careless sometimes of what it does itself, it is very particular about what those people do who are its guests! Of course, Louise, it does come hardest on you, for yourself and for the children—but still you've got to stand by Steve.
Mrs. Carley. Sam!
[Going to Sam for help.
Louise. Oh, I suppose I'll forgive him, I always do, but I don't know about forgiving you.
Georgiana. Me?
Louise. If you don't marry Sam! You can make everything all right, and Sam loves you—you can make mother happy and me happy and Steve happy....
Steven. [Interrupting.] No, leave me out!
[He goes up behind the sofa.
Louise. Our life would go on just the same,—Steve will make no more mistakes. I think you're heartless to refuse!
Georgiana. But, Louise, you ask me to give up entirely my own happiness.
Louise. Not at all! There's no one else in love with you but Sam, and this isn't your first year out, you know.
Mrs. Carley. And anyway it would be five happy against one unhappy, there's no arguing about that.
Coast. [To Louise.] You and your mother both think she ought to accept me, don't you?
Louise. Certainly.
Coast. [To Georgiana.] I told you.
Georgiana. Yes, Sam, you win!—but Louise! I love some one else.
Louise. Dick Coleman?
Georgiana. Yes, and I'm going to marry him.
Coast. [Turning quickly.] Has he asked you?
Georgiana. Yes! To-day!
[Showing her letter. Mrs. Carley sits on the sofa.
Coast. [Angry, to Louise.] Then you bring suit against Steve and I'll back you up,—I'll bet you I'll get your case!
Louise. But Steve hasn't any money.
Coast. No, but you can show him up! You can blackguard his name for him! You can disgrace him in the papers!
Louise. But I don't want to do that! It would only make things worse.
Georgiana. Good, Louise!
Coast. I'll bet the bank and Steve's brokers won't be so soft-hearted.
Georgiana. There's this house for the bank.
Mrs. Carley. [Crying.] This house! I shall die!
[Georgiana goes to her.
Georgiana. Oh, no, you won't; you'll live very happily in a nice little flat, with two servants and a polite elevator boy in buttons.
Mrs. Carley. [Pitifully.] Louise!
Georgiana. And Mr. Caldwell I am going to see at the ball to-night. I believe he will help us if he can.
Louise. You're going to the ball? In spite of everything?
Georgiana. Yes, we must. Let's have as little talk about the whole thing as possible. Steve's had bad luck! The people mustn't think there's anything we're ashamed of. There isn't anything.
Coast. Oh, isn't there?
Georgiana. No.
[Louise gets the smelling salts from the table for Mrs. Carley.
Mrs. Carley. It's true; so long as we've lost everything else, I don't see why she should lose the ball too!
[Using the smelling salts.
Louise. And I suppose we really ought to be seen there, or lots of people will never believe we were asked.
Coast. Well, I guess this is where I get out. I'll strike one of those musical comedies! I think ragtime will be good enough for me to-night, instead of a neck and arm circus. You won't want me for escort after all this?
Louise. You can please yourself, Sam.
Coast. Not exactly; I guess this is the day I try sour grapes. [Goes to door Left,—he turns.] When's Coleman coming back, Georgiana?
Georgiana. I don't know.
Coast. Oh! [Goes to Steven at mantel.] Steve—listen—how long are they holding that rotten stock of yours for you?
Steven. [Laughs.] Ha! till to-morrow noon.
Coast. Well, cheer up, I'll send her up ten points for you by eleven. [Slaps him on the back.] See you all later, maybe, if my show's dull.
[And with a side glance at Georgiana he goes out Left.
Mrs. Carley. [Rises.] I only wish to heaven Sam Coast wanted to marry me!
Louise. Mother! Come, let's finish dressing.
Mrs. Carley. I don't know whether to go to the ball or stay home and have a good cry.
Georgiana. Do whichever gives you the most pleasure, mother.
[Lizzie enters Right and stands behind the dressing table.
Mrs. Carley. What? [Looking at herself in the glass.] It's all very well for them to give us women a new front, I wish they'd give us new backs too.
[She goes out Right.
Lizzie. You must start dressing, miss—Miss Shindle will be back.
Georgiana. [Absent-mindedly.] Yes, yes, Lizzie.
[Lizzie goes out.]
Louise, I'm so glad you will stand by Steve; and try and be glad a little for me.
[Placing her arm about Louise.
Louise. Yes, I don't blame you, Georgy, so long as Dick's proposed. I'd do just as you've done, and I will be glad for you by to-morrow,—I am glad now.
[Kisses her impulsively.
Georgiana. Thank you, Louise, dear.
[She goes out Right.
Steven. Louise!
Louise. [Comes to Steve.] Steve. [Louise touches Steve on the arm.] I don't want to be horrid, but do you think you will be able to get anything decent to do?
Steven. I'm sure I will.
Louise. But will we have enough money to hold our own?
Steven. I'll do my best. Louise, I appreciate your not making more of a row!
[With his arm around her.
Louise. Oh, Steve, I know it's just as hard for you—and I do love you and I want to be nice about it, but—[She cries. Steven kisses her again, in his arms.] I mustn't give way like this. I'll be a sight at the ball. Don't let me cry, dear.
Steven. All right. Come on upstairs now, and make yourself beautiful.
[They go toward the door Right.
Bella. [Reëntering Left.] Good evening again, is Miss Georgiana ready for me?
Louise. She must be,—is my hair all right?
Bella. Oh, yes, that's one thing about my hair dressing, though I do say it as shouldn't, it has a lasting quality.
[Louise goes out Right.
Georgiana. [Calls from inside.] Is that you, Bella?
Bella. Yes, ma'am.
Georgiana. I'll be there in a minute—be quick, Lizzie.
Bella. [Lower voice.] Mr. Carley, have you seen the evening papers?
Steven. No!
Bella. I just bought one and it's got an article about the 91st regiment.
Steven. What about it?
[Looks to see if door is closed.
Bella. [Same voice.] They say it may 'a' been wiped out of existence: it's three weeks now since news of it was due, and the paper's afraid they've met with an ambyscade or something like that.
Steven. Oh, when the newspapers are hard up for news they get up something about the Philippines! It's the modern sea-serpent. When there's absolutely nothing else to print—no girl suicide in Brooklyn, or cyclone in Kansas, or joke on Chicago, then they give the Philippines a paragraph or an insurrection. Don't you worry, Miss Shindle.
[He sits in the arm-chair near the sofa.
Bella. But it says the island they went against was the heathenest of the lot, and that there's no good reason why if they'd hadn't no fight with the natives, we shouldn't 'a' had news from them.
Steven. The whole question of news in a case like this is too uncertain to make so much alarm about. The men's idea is not to send picture postal cards of daily movements home to America, but to lick the natives into shape!
Bella. I'm sure you do comfort me. Don't know as Miss Georgiana told you, but my young man's out there, with Mr.—Lieutenant Coleman.
Steven. Well, don't worry. You just make up your mind the papers are short of news to-night.
Bella. Goodness, they won't be to-morrow with all they're going to print about this ball! Say, I've a friend whose sister's a literary lady and writes for the Sunday papers in Buffalo. She's got an article in my line, called the "Heads of the Smart Set which was Set at the Grand Duke." Ain't that a cute name for an article? And it don't mean their heads either; it means their coffyures, as she says—she speaks French. She was born and raised in Niagara Falls, near to Canada, where the language comes natural,—over the water, as it were!
Steven. [Going to her.] I wouldn't mention this newspaper report to Miss Carley—it would only needlessly alarm her, perhaps, and spoil her evening.
Bella. Oh, I wouldn't for worlds.
[She moves to the dressing table as Georgiana comes in.
Georgiana. Here I am'. Oh, my dear Steve! You'll be late. You're not dressed yet.
Steven. All right. I'm going now—I was entertaining Miss Shindle till you were ready.
[With, a bow to Miss Shindle, Steven goes out Right.
Bella. [Taking her bottles, etc., from a little bag which she carries.] He is a perfect gentleman!
Georgiana. [Sitting before the dressing table.] Now come along, Bella! I only want you to brush my hair; I've had a trying evening here, and I've a splitting headache. See if you can take it away and make me look as if I'd never had one.
Bella. [Tying apron about Georgiana's neck.] I'll do my best; but I can tell you most of the ladies I know'd be willing to have a headache every blessed minute of their lives if they could look as you do now!
Georgiana. Oh, what blarney, Bella! I don't know, somehow I want to be beautiful to-night.
Bella. For the Dook?
[Beginning to brush her hair.
Georgiana. No!
Bella. For him?
[Pointing at Coleman's photograph with her hair-brush.
Georgiana. Yes. [Drawing the picture toward her.] It was a dear letter I had from him to-night, Bella! I hope you'll have as nice a one from Mr. Gootch to-morrow morning.
Bella. Well, if I don't—
[Shutting her teeth, she unconsciously pulls Georgiana's hair.
Georgiana. Oh, oh!
Bella. Oh, I beg your pardon!
Georgiana. Don't take it out on me, wait till Mr. Gootch gets back!
Bella. [Combing.] I don't know as you're the jealous kind. Judging from your hair you ain't. It usually goes with blonde or red, or else crimpy, and what I dislike about red hair is the freckles—you can almost count on 'em! You've got sort of trusting hair. But besides, Mr. Coleman wasn't a floor walker in a shop with over a hundred lady clerks—I think that's apt to make a gentleman flightier; and he being bald, has me to a disadvantage, so to speak. I can't judge by my customary signs.
Georgiana. [Looking at Coleman's photograph.] Bella, I should say Lieutenant Coleman has splendid, straight, honest hair, shouldn't you?
Bella. I can't say as I've ever really had any experience of his hair, ma'am.
Georgiana. But do you think him an awfully handsome man, Bella, or am I prejudiced?
Bella. No, indeed, I never seen a handsomer gentleman, not even in the pictures of gentlemen's clothes in tailor store windows. [Puts comb down, and takes brush and brushes again.] But what continues to make me nervous about Mr. Gootch is that he's right there among all those black creatures, whose manners is very free, I'm told, and whose style of dressing is peculiar, the least you say! Mr. Gootch always did favor dark-complexioned people, and if that letter don't come to-morrow—
[Getting excited, she again pulls Georgiana's hair.
Georgiana. Ouch! [Laughing, holds up her hand, and catches her hair to ward off another pull.] Be careful!
Bella. Excuse me! in my art, there's no use talking, you oughtn't let your mind wander from the subject in hand—does your head feel better?
Georgiana. I don't know, Bella, if it does or not! Your treatment is very heroic.
Bella. [Spraying her hair.] You don't feel worried about something happening to them way out there, do you, Miss Georgiana?
Georgiana. I daren't think of it. Oh, Bella, I've had lots of trouble to-day, and I've a serious time ahead of me—but all the same I am such a happy woman. [Turning to look at Bella, she disarranges her hair, much to Bella's disapproval.] Do you love Mr. Gootch tremendously, Bella?
Bella. Why, love isn't the word! my feeling for Mr. Gootch is a positive worship. When I get to thinking of him in the underground I always go by my station, sometimes two.
Georgiana. Be grateful for your love, Bella; it's a wonderful thing.
Bella. [Finishing the dressing of the hair.] You know I've just done Mrs. Wishings, she puts too much on!
Georgiana. Does she rouge?
Bella. No, hair. I don't mind a switch or two for foundation, and a couple of puffs for ornament, with a tight curl or two for style,—especially if you've got one of those new undilated fronts, but I think that's all you can expect to have any hair dresser make look as if it growed there. There! How's that?
[Puts hairpin in Georgiana's hair.
Georgiana. [Holding up Dick's photograph.] How's that, Dick—is it all right?
Bella. [Delighted.] Ain't that a cute idea?
Georgiana. We both trust you, Bella, to make me all right.
Bella. What ornaments?
[Taking off the apron, she walks around to Right of the table.
Georgiana. Would you wear any?
Bella. Oh, yes, for such an occasion! Of course, for maidens only feathers is correct; for wives and widows, tiaras and feathers.
[Putting away her things. Mrs. Carley enters in a flurry of excitement, superbly dressed, and too youthfully.
Mrs. Carley. Here I am; I've hurried so I don't feel half dressed.
Georgiana. [Smiling.] That's almost the way you look, mother.
Mrs. Carley. Well, I always did have shoulders, and I don't intend to hide them under a bushel; but what do you think of the dress, is it a success?
Georgiana. From your point of view—perfect!
Mrs. Carley. Yes, but what's the difference about your point of view about it and mine?
Georgiana. Well, I should think about thirty years, darling!
Mrs. Carley. Oh, Georgiana, you really are unkind. When I don't know how on earth it's ever going to be paid for now, I think you might be serious, and let me feel anyway it's a success.
Georgiana. Mother dear, it's a triumph. Really, I never saw you look better!
Mrs. Carley. Really! and how is my hair?
Georgiana. Redder!
Bella. Oh, Miss Georgiana, it isn't too red a bit.
Georgiana. It's very fine, Bella, but I think I'd take off a little. You don't want Mrs. Carley to rival Mrs. Wishings and look as if she'd cornered the hair market.
Bella. She's just teasing you.
[Georgiana has risen.
Mrs. Carley. You are lovely, Georgiana.
Georgiana. That's because my thoughts are lovely.
Mrs. Carley. I'm awfully proud of you, dear, and wish you were my own daughter.
Georgiana. Thank you, mother.
Mrs. Carley. The Grand Duke will surely notice you. Aren't you going to put something in your hair?
Bella. [Handing it to Georgiana.] A rose with glass dewdrops.
[Newsboy's voice heard in the street—calling, "Extra—Extra—Terrible"—the rest is indistinct.
Georgiana. What's that?
Mrs. Carley. A newsboy with an extra.
[Man's voice outside, "Extra—Extra—Terrible"—the rest is still indistinct. Louise enters, beautifully dressed.
Bella. Oh!
Georgiana. Lovely, Louise!
Louise. I've got a splitting headache. [Man's voice outside, "Extra—Extra."] What can the extra be? [Enter Steven.] Steve, do you know what the extra is?
Steven. Oh, they're never anything you know.
[In distance are heard several voices at once at different distances, all calling, "Extra—Extra—Terrible"—etc.
Mrs. Carley. Yes, they're always so disappointing, generally a railway accident out west! or a bomb thrown in Europe. Are you ready, Georgiana?
[The "Extras" are louder.
Steven. Yes, if we're going we ought to go.
["Extra—Extra," called underneath the window.
Georgiana. Listen, what did he say?
[Voice shouts outside, "Terrible fight in the Philippines; an entire regiment wiped out!"
Bella. [Frightened.] I heard "Philippines."
[Goes to the window.
Georgiana. And a terrible fight! Some one must get the paper!
Steven. We haven't time now, Georgy.
Mrs. Carley. Yes, we must be there before the Grand Duke arrives.
[Outside, "Extra—Extra!"
Georgiana. I must see that paper, Steve.
Mrs. Carley. Georgiana, I think you are too thoughtless.
[Outside, "Entire regiment wiped out!"
Georgiana. Steve, do you hear that! Will you get the paper or shall I call to the man?
Steven. I'll get it. [Goes to a window and opens it, pulling aside the curtain. He calls down to the boy in the street.] Here! Hi! Extra!
[Voice outside, "Here you are, boss!"
Steven. Ring the bell.
[He comes back into the room. One "Extra" is heard louder than before, and then the cries gradually die away.
Mrs. Carley. The carriage has already been here nearly an hour.
Georgiana. It if should be Dick's fight, if it should be Dick's regiment!
Louise. Make up your mind, mother, to be a little late. We can't go till we see the paper.
Georgiana. [At the door Right.] Lizzie! Where is she? Didn't he go to the door with the paper, Steve?
Bella. I'll see, miss.
[She goes out Right.
Steven. Yes. I saw him. But, Georgy, it won't be Dick's regiment.
Mrs. Carley. [By the sofa.] Louise, I'll tell you what we'll do, let's go down and be getting on our wraps.
Louise. No, mother, wait.
Georgiana. No, Louise, go down, please, with mother. I'd rather.
Mrs. Carley. [Going out Left.] Yes, come along.
[Louise looks at Georgiana, who nods her head "Yes" to go.
Louise. I'll come back.
[She follows Mrs. Carley out. Lizzie enters Right with the paper. Georgiana takes the paper from Lizzie, who immediately goes out Right.
Steven. Shall I look?
Georgiana. [Standing by the sofa.] No, I will. Here it is—"Battle with Ladrones. The 91st Regiment of New York, which went out under Captain H.S. Miller to subdue the bandits in the Island of Orla, met an ambuscade of the Ladrones and were annihilated almost to a man." [She looks up dazed, not able at once to realize what it means. Rereads, skipping some lines.] "Captain H.S. Miller who went out under—to subdue the bandits in the—met an ambuscade of the Ladrones and was annihilated almost to a man." Steve! his regiment,—do you think it's true? Do you think it can be true?
Steven. [Beside her.] No, let me read it.
Georgiana. [She sinks down on the end of the sofa.] No, I will! [She reads on.] "News was brought by private—private—[Her eyes hurrying on.] the sole survivors. Privates—" [Her eyes run along the printed lines again.] Steve, I can't see his name. Isn't it there? Can't you see it?
Steven. [Looking.] No.
Georgiana. [Almost whispers.] It means—?
Steven. [Striving to hide his own emotion and to encourage her.] The news is too meagre to be true.
Mrs. Carley. [In hall Left.] Georgiana! We must go.
Georgiana. [Starts. To Steven.] Don't let mother come in, please.
Louise. [Just outside the door.] Georgiana, we must go.
Georgiana. [To Steven.] Say I'm coming.
Steven. I can't leave you alone. [Going to the door.] Georgy's coming.
Louise. [Outside.] Good! Hurry!
Steven. [Coming back to her.] But I can't leave you.
Georgiana. You must. And anyway I want you to. I want to be alone.
[Steven hesitates. He comes and takes her hand and is about to kiss her, but something keeps him back; he presses her hand and she gives a grateful look. She crosses to the dressing table and sits before it, dazed. Slowly she takes the flowers from her hair, the pearls from her neck. The front door slams, she lifts her head, and leaning her arm toward Dick's picture, draws it toward her, gazing at it. Then, crying, "Dick, Dick," she bursts into tears and drops her head upon her arms outstretched on the table as
the curtain falls
ACT IV
Seven weeks later. The drawing-room as in Act II. Georgiana, in a clinging black lace dress, is at the piano, playing "Traumerei." The sunshine pours in through the windows. Moles comes in apologetically from the Left.
Moles. Mr. Coast wants to know if you will see him, miss.
Georgiana. [Who continues playing.] Very well, Moles.
Moles. Shall I show him up?
[Georgiana nods her head. Moles goes out. Georgiana continues playing. In a few seconds Moles reënters with Coast.
Coast. Good morning, Georgiana.
[Georgiana, half smiling, bows very impersonally, and continues playing till she finishes the music. Coast leans against the piano, facing her, and watches her and waits.
Georgiana. [When she has finished.] How long is it since you and I have been friends?
Coast. It's five weeks and a couple of days—but it wasn't my fault.
Georgiana. Wasn't it? Well? What is it? Why do you want to see me?
Coast. Same reason as ever!
Georgiana. No,—you wouldn't ask me that now!
Coast. Yes, I would!
Georgiana. No, Sam! Love isn't a game with all women, if you lose with one hand, to try another. Do you mean you think because Dick is dead, it would be any more possible for me to care for you? I don't respect you, Sam, and I don't like you,—and that's putting it very politely,—for many reasons; but one's enough—Steve!
[Coast looks away.
Coast. [After a second's pause.] I've let you go on because I know I deserve all I get; and I've caught on to the fact that you won't ever care about me the way I want. Well, it's funny, it don't seem to make much difference in my feelings for you all the same! [Half laughs.] I ain't exactly ashamed of what I've done, but I'm sort of sorry—for you.
Georgiana. [Rising.] I don't want your sympathy, Sam.
[She comes away from the piano and he follows her.
Coast. Well, you've got to get it, anyway! That you can't help, and if you can help loving me, you can't help my loving you! Anyway, I don't want you to have to get out o' this house.
Georgiana. That is all settled now; we can't afford to live here, of course.
Coast. Yes, you can.
Georgiana. No, no—Steve's salary—
Coast. Steve's leaving that job; he don't need that money any longer.
[He looks at her, she looks in his face—a short pause; then—
Georgiana. You don't mean you've given Steve—
Coast. Don't worry, I'm giving away nothing. Steve's got a new job.
Georgiana. What?
Coast. I'm going home—leastways so far's Denver—and Steve's going to look after my interests here.
Georgiana. But—
Coast. [Interrupting her.] Oh, don't worry—he can't act without my advice—and that's just the kind of a man I want! I don't want none of these here fellers who's got judgment o' their own! Steve's knows he's a fool in business, and he'll obey me implicitly.
Georgiana. [Sitting by the table Left.] And Steve is willing to accept from you—
Coast. [Interrupting.] Oh, I guess he considers I owe him that much anyway.
Georgiana. You couldn't repay what you owe Steve.
Coast. That's how you look at it! Then there's Coleman's money.
Georgiana. Don't speak about that, please.
Coast. Why not? he's left it to you, everybody knows it, and it must be a good deal.
Georgiana. I can't and won't discuss that with you.
Coast. [Goes to Georgiana.] I wish you didn't feel so hard against me, Georgy!
Georgiana. To tell you the truth, Sam, I don't think I feel anything about you.
Coast. Oh, Lord, that's worse! I guess I won't stop at Denver,—I'll go away out to the mine for a while and join father.—Good-by.
Georgiana. Good-by.
[Rises.
Coast. I swore off a lot of things when I thought I was going to get you, Georgiana!
Georgiana. [Without any feeling.] I'm glad!
Coast. But I don't want to put on any bluff. I've sworn 'em all on again.
[Going Left.
Georgiana. [Same voice, without feeling.] I'm sorry.
Coast. [Turning quickly and with an absurd ray of hope.] Are you really?
Georgiana. [Looking at him a second.] No, Sam, I suppose, if I tell the truth, I don't really care. You see, somehow or other, I don't care very much about anything.
Coast. [Discouraged.] Good-by.
Georgiana. Good-by, a pleasant journey.
[She turns away. Coast is about to go when he meets Louise, who enters Left.
Louise. Good morning, Sam. Where are you off to?
[Going to the sofa.
Coast. Chicago first, Lou, and then Denver, and eventually—hell, I guess!
[With a little gulp in his throat he goes out quickly.
Louise. What's the matter with him—he hasn't proposed to you again?
Georgiana. He's going away, and he's made Steve—
Louise. [Interrupting.] I've just seen Steve, he's told me. Steve's coming uptown soon—to see you—
Georgiana. [Sitting on the sofa beside Louise.] To see me—why?
Louise. He'll tell you better than I—I feel happy, Georgiana.
Georgiana. I'm glad.
Louise. And I believe you'll be happy again.
Georgiana. Thank you, Louise!
[Mrs. Carley enters Right and sits by the table.
Mrs. Carley. You back, Louise! I'm that tired, shopping. I'm buying everything I can think of we'll be likely to need for months. There'll be no pleasure buying things when, instead of having them sent to 2 East 71st Street, we have to say 329 West 143rd!
Georgiana. [Rises and goes back of the table.] Mother, dear, you may not have to leave here after all!
Mrs. Carley. What do you mean?
Georgiana. Louise will tell you. I've promised to sit through lunch with the children this morning if you don't mind, and it's their hour.
Mrs. Carley. But, Georgiana—
[She is interrupted by a gesture and a glance from Louise to let Georgiana go.
Georgiana. [Sweetly.] Yes? Do you want me for anything, dear?
[Louise repeats the gesture, unnoticed by Georgiana.
Mrs. Carley. Oh, no.
Georgiana. If you want me—
Mrs. Carley. No.
Georgiana. Louise, I told Bella Shindle I'd help her get up an article this morning on the drawing-room and dining room for her sister,—you know—who has a friend who writes for the weekly papers. You don't mind, do you?
Louise. No.
Georgiana. Of course, if you do mind—
Louise. But I don't, not the least in the world.
Georgiana. [Smiling.] Bella says it will be a great thing for her sister's reputation—what she calls such a "select" house as ours—and buy her a new hat besides. So I thought we'd better.
[She goes out Right.
Mrs. Carley. Did you ever know any one so changed? She hasn't been horrid to me once since he died. It makes me feel perfectly dreadful to have her treat me so nice.
[Almost crying, crosses to Left.
Louise. Mother, you know Mrs. Coleman sent for me just now.
Mrs. Carley. Yes?
Louise. Well, why, do you suppose?
Mrs. Carley. I don't know, but I hope you'll tell me that, too, sometime—what about Steve?
Louise. That must wait, mother—Dick Coleman—
Mrs. Carley. What? Don't tell me he made another will, and didn't leave Georgiana his money.
Louise. No, it's good news for Georgiana. I'm almost as afraid to tell you as to tell her. [Whispers.] Dick Coleman may be alive, after all.
Mrs. Carley. Louise!
Louise. It is possible he was one of the three men who arrived at San Francisco nearly a week ago.
Mrs. Carley. Who were taken prisoners by the Ladrones and escaped?
Louise. Yes! The three men who got away from Cebú in a boat and were picked up by a German steamer. It seems more than probable. They got one name wrong in the despatches, making it "Richard Cotten"—who was also missing—instead of "Richard Coleman."
Mrs. Carley. But how did you find out all this?
Louise. From Mrs. Coleman. And it's all in the morning paper, and we never took the trouble to look!
Mrs. Carley. I read the society notes—it wasn't in there.
Louise. Well, the Colemans saw it and telegraphed at once to Washington for confirmation.
Mrs. Carley. Did they get it?
Louise. Not yet. But we're all in the greatest hopes!
Mrs. Carley. But if Dick Coleman was with those other men in San Francisco, why didn't he telegraph home?
Louise. That's the one thing that makes still a dreadful doubt. [Rises and rings the bell.] The Colemans are nearly mad waiting for their reply from Washington.
Mrs. Carley. Shall you tell Georgiana?
[She rises.
Louise. Not till we are a little more certain. It would be dreadful to open the wound of her grief again for nothing. Oh, if it's only true!
Mrs. Carley. And you've seen Steve?
Louise. Yes, he went off at once to the newspaper to see how authentic their information was, and then he was going on to the Colemans. [Moles enters Left in answer to the bell.] Moles, bring me the morning paper.
Moles. [Unable to suppress his excitement.] I've read it, m'm! We're all nearly crazy over it downstairs. Lizzie's took to crying and can't answer her bells.—Is it true, Mrs. Carley?
Louise. Yes, we hope it's true, Moles.
Moles. Thank God, m'm, if you'll excuse me!
Louise. But we're not sure yet, and you mustn't let anything drop before Miss Georgiana till we are certain.
Moles. No, m'm.
[He goes out.
Mrs. Carley. Oughtn't we to give Georgiana a hint to prepare her in some way?
Louise. Perhaps, if we do it very carefully.
Mrs. Carley. It seems awful to me not to tell her right out. Of course we won't have Dick Coleman's money to help live on now, if he's back.
Louise. Never mind that, mother.
[Moles returns with the paper.
Moles. Here is the paper, m'm, and Miss Shindle is come—she says to interview the drawing-room.
Louise. Very well—tell Miss Georgiana.
Moles. Yes, m'm.
[Goes out Right. Louise looks through the paper. Moles brings in Bella. Bella shows signs of suppressed excitement.
Bella. Oh, Mrs. Carley, have you seen the papers—isn't it splendid?
Louise. Yes, if it's only true. We're trying to make sure!
[Louise finds the place in the paper.
Mrs. Carley. [Rising.] She doesn't know yet.
Bella. Oh, Mrs. Carley!
Louise. We're waiting to be sure, and that we may be almost any minute.
Bella. Mercy! I don't see how you can keep it to yourself.
Mrs. Carley. You might give her a little hint, Bella, if you get a chance.
Bella. I wouldn't dare. If I opened my mouth wide enough to give her a hint, I know it would all burst out!
Louise. As soon as Mr. Carley comes, make an excuse to leave her, won't you? We expect him to bring us some definite news?
Bella. Yes, indeed!
[Mrs. Carley and Louise go out Left, as Georgiana comes in.
Georgiana. [Pleasantly.] Good morning, Bella.
[She sits by the table.
Bella. Good morning, ain't it a fine morning?
Georgiana. Is it? I haven't been out.
Bella. I'm scared to death. [Laughing nervously.] I ain't going to write the article myself, you know. It's my sister's husband's friend—she's real literary enough! She's got a typewriter.
Georgiana. One can't do everything in this world, Bella, and you must be content with being a real artiste in your own profession.
Bella. Yes, I will say without boasting, so to speak, I don't believe there's a soul in New York who can make hair go further and wear less, than me! [Laughs heartily.] What's this room? Of course it's one of them Louis, I suppose, ain't it? [Looks around the room.] Let me see, is it Louis Eleventimes? I saw Henry Irving in that, it was fine!
Georgiana. No, Bella, Henry Irving has never been in this room, and it's Louis XVI.
Bella. Oh, of course! [Writing.] How well you're looking, Miss Georgiana. Look to me kinder as if you thought good news was in the wind!
[She glances at her surreptitiously, but down again quickly, frightened.
Georgiana. Why, Bella?
Bella. Oh, that's just my idea, that's all. What might this picture be? Shall we say—er—er—Michael Ange?
Georgiana. [Suppressing a smile.] No, that is a Van Dyck.
Bella. Of course! I might have known! [Writing.] This entire room is a fine bit, ain't it? All Louis—[She looks back in her book.] 16, as a piece, I suppose?
Georgiana. Yes.
Bella. So I see! My! How I love all this kind of thing. I couldn't live without a lot o' bric-a-brah lying around sort of careless like and undusted. These tapestries are real, I presume?
Georgiana. Yes.
Bella. I thought so! I got a beautiful piece of tapestry over my washstand, hand-painted, and all the faces and clothes outlined in chenille cross-stitch by the Singer Sewing Machine—but it's not quite the same as yours.
Georgiana. It must be very pretty.
Bella. Oh, it adds a touch! Mr. Gootch gave it to me for an engagement present.
Georgiana. Does Mr. Gootch ever speak of Mr. Coleman?
Bella. He worships him—naturally, as Mr. Coleman got wounded in both arms carrying him to a safe place! Mr. Gootch says as there wasn't a man in the regiment braver or as popular as Mr. Coleman. Don't you think, perhaps, sometimes, maybe, Miss Georgiana—
[She stops near Georgiana.
Georgiana. Maybe what—?
Bella. Oh, I dunno—I—
Georgiana. [Rising and going to the sofa.] Come, Bella, we must get on with your article.
[A pause.
Bella. [Looking about.] Why, you haven't got a cosy corner, have you? And yet you seem to go in for the real artistic! I don't know what my sister 'n' I'd do without our cosy corner! It is draped with a fish net, and has paper butterflies and beetles in it! Very artistic! And she's got—well, really now, I believe she's got at least eleven pillers; counting the two ticking ones that has their covers come off at night for our bed!
Georgiana. [Rising nervously.] Bella, I have some colored dresses I'd like to give you for your trousseau, if you care to take them. They've not been worn very much.
Bella. Oh, Miss Georgiana, of course I'd take 'em—only, I don't know, I sort of feel it in my bones you'll wear 'em yourself.
[Steven enters Left suddenly. He tries to conceal his great excitement. Moles is with him.
Steven. [To Moles.] Tell Mrs. Carley I want to see her here, please.
Moles. Yes, sir.
[He goes out Right.
Steven. Hello, Georgy!
Georgiana. Steve!
Steven. Good morning, Miss Shindle.
Bella. Good morning, Mr. Carley. I must be going now, Miss Georgiana.
Georgiana. But have you got enough for the article?
Bella. Oh, yes, miss—Louise furniture, the Van Wyck picture, tapestry effects—etcetra. Thank you ever so much. Good-by!
Georgiana. Wait, I'll tell you about the dining room.
[She goes out with Bella Left, and Louise enters.
Steven. Louise, it's true!
Louise. Oh, Steve!
Steven. It was a press telegram and has been verified by private wire. Besides, Mrs. Coleman has a telegram from Dick himself.
Louise. From where?
Steven. From San Francisco, when the Colemans were at Palm Beach. Their servants foolishly mailed the telegram to them, and before it arrived in Florida, they were on their way North, coming by easy stages.
Louise. [Rises.] And the message only just caught up with them! Who will tell her?
[Moles comes in Left with a note.
Moles. A note just come for you, sir, by Mr. Coleman's man.
Steven. We must break it very gently, prepare her a little for it if we can. [To Moles.] Thanks. [Takes note, opens it, and reads it hurriedly.] He's there! With his father and mother!
Moles. [Forgetting himself.] Oh, sir—I'm so glad! Excuse me, sir, but we're all so glad, sir—any answer sir?
[His eyes fill up.
Steven. No, only tell Miss Georgiana I want to see her.
Moles. [Who has to swallow a lump in his throat before he can speak.] Yes, sir.
[He goes out Right.
Louise. [Wiping her eyes, goes to Steven.] What does it say?
Steven. [Reads the note.] "Dick and the answer from Washington arrived together!" He'll be over here at once—they won't keep him.
Louise. We must tell her before he gets here.
Steven. Yes.
Louise. We must do it very carefully.
Steven. But we mustn't lose any time.
[Georgiana comes in during this last speech, overhearing it. A movement is made by others on Georgiana's entrance.
Georgiana. "Losing time!" Am I keeping you from anything? I'm very sorry!
Louise. [Very tenderly, and hiding her emotion.] No, you're not keeping us, Georgy, we only wanted to see you, that's all.
Georgiana. [Going to her.] Why?
Steven. [Also very tenderly.] Do we have to have a reason to want to see you, isn't that we love you enough?
Georgiana. Yes, but why do you speak to me like this?—it's very kind of you—only—what does it mean?
[Smiling a little nervously, they hesitate.
Louise. Steve has news for you, Georgy.
Georgiana. I know about it, Coast told me.
Steven. It isn't that, Georgy.
Georgiana. What is it, then? How serious you both look.
[She becomes frightened.
Steven. This is good news.
Georgiana. Good news!
Louise. Yes.
Steven. The best in the world!
Georgiana. For me?
Steven. For you!
Georgiana. [A second's pause, she speaks then in a low voice.] No, it can't be! It can't be!
Steven. Yes, it is, Georgy!
Georgiana. No!
Steven. Georgy! It is!
[Moles enters Left.
Moles. [With voice full of happy emotion which he cannot disguise.] Please, sir—
[He hesitates.
Steven. Show him here, Moles.
[Moles lowers his head and goes out.
Georgiana. Dick—?
[She looks from Steven to Louise. They all show her by their faces and movements that it is true.
Georgiana. [Whispers.] Dick!
[She stands waiting, breathless. Steven steals out with his arm about Louise.
Georgiana. [Excitedly, to herself.] Come! No, no! It can't be true! It can't be true! They killed him, those brutes out there! You told me so! Every one believed it! I believed it! And so you want me to believe he's alive! That he's here! In this house, coming into this room—that I shall see—
[She stops suddenly, looking up. The door-knob of the door Left turns. Every nerve in Georgiana's body grows tense. Moles opens the door and lets Dick pass in and closes the door behind him.
Georgiana. [Cries out.] Dick!
[Dick goes towards her, but stops. She starts towards him, stops a moment, and they look at each other, unable to speak,—then she goes on slowly, almost fearfully, till she reaches him.
Dick. [Moving to her.] Georgy!
[He stands before her with both arms bandaged in a sling.
Georgiana. [Whispers.] Dick! [Looks him straight in the eyes—he looks back. She cries out.] Dick!
[Holding out her arms toward him.
Dick. Georgy! [He looks down at his arms.] My arms—I can't—
Georgiana. Oh, Dick!
[And putting her arms tenderly about his neck, she holds him close, as he leans down his head and kisses her, and
the curtain falls