The Project Gutenberg eBook of Representative Plays by American Dramatists: 1856-1911: The Moth And The Flame, by Clyde Fitch.

Scene. A church. At left are the steps leading to the chancel and the chancel rails. Beyond the rails are palms, grouped, which conceal the altar. Past the chancel, up stage, is the exit into the choir. Down stage is the exit to the vestry and robing-room. To right of centre begin the pews of the church on each side of a broad centre aisle. The stage is set a little diagonally so that the aisle runs from upper right toward centre stage. This will make a row or two more pews above the aisle than below it. White satin ribbons are stretched above the aisle on each side, across the entrances to the pews; this ribbon the ushers lift aside as they seat the guests. The exit right is made by the centre aisle.

Discovered. Three ushers, Johnstone, Fanshaw and Trimmins. Johnstone is sitting in the first pew, Fanshaw standing outside and leaning over its front, talking to Johnstone. Trimmins is leaning with his back against the side of the first pew across the aisle up stage. They are dressed in long frock coats, with buttonholes of white orchids. They are engaged in putting on white kid gloves.

Johnstone. Heavens, no! How long do you want him to hang around? But he won't be late; he's serious this time.

Trimmins. I'm glad to hear it, because he's going to marry a splendid girl. [A short pause.] I hope to goodness he really loves her.

Johnstone. Oh, he does, I'm sure. I'll bet you, if you like; will you put up a silk hat on it? [Rises.

Johnstone. All right. [Exit from pew. Holding out his hand which Fanshaw takes, and they shake.] Done!

Fanshaw. And I hope I'll lose. And if I were he, I'd tremble in my boots with a past like his, and the present getting so conspicuously favourable.

Fanshaw. And I don't believe Fletcher can have one single memory of his own which he wouldn't rather forget since he has come to care for Marion Wolton. [Crosses to pew. Johnstone crosses.

Trimmins. Yes, but don't you think a fellow can sow his wild oats and be done with them, and become a good man and an honest citizen.

Fanshaw. Of course I do, else, good Lord, where'd I be! We can't all be ideal chaps like Douglas Rhodes. But there are oats and oats, and Fletcher's are—oats!

Johnstone. Well, he's sorry for them. [Crosses to pew. As Douglas Rhodes enters, Trimmins exits. Rhodes is also dressed as an usher and comes up the aisle in time to hear Johnstone's speech, as he joins them.

Fanshaw. He has a debt to be paid. He can't wash his hands of the kind of things he's done; if he were in earnest in regretting his old life, he would do something to make up for it.

Fanshaw. If he were in earnest he'd marry, instead, one of at least two girls I know of—not this one.

Johnstone. Oh, come, there's no reason why he should do a quixotic thing like that, he has a future before him.

Johnstone. Exactly; Fletcher's no fool. And then there's Mr. Dawson. He swears by Fletcher now; they're regular pals.

Douglas. [Coming down left.] Yes, Dawson really believes in Fletcher—well, perhaps he's right. There must be some good in everybody, and perhaps Fletcher is just beginning to come to the top. Let's hope so.

Johnstone. Hang it, fellows, brace up anyway. This isn't a funeral, you know. Hello, there's the organ. [Organ music begins, and selections appropriate and usual on such occasions continue uninterruptedly.] The people will be coming now. [He exits.] Two other ushers make a movement, throwing off a certain lazy, nonchalant manner, and getting themselves into more dignified readiness for their duties.

Douglas. [Rises, crosses to left.] I tell you, Fanshaw, this is a hard day for me.

Fanshaw. But I'm glad you decided to come. It would have made all sorts of gossip if you hadn't.

Douglas. [Sighs.] Yes. Anyway, as it's got to be now, we must all make the best of it.

Fanshaw. No one besides me dreams your life is still wrapped up in Marion Wolton.

Douglas. [Embarrassed, but pleasantly. With a half laugh.] And I suppose that ought to be some consolation, but I don't know as it is. However, I shall never be able to thank you enough for the comfort you've been. A man must have some one to talk to. And it isn't every fellow who can have a friend like you.

Fanshaw. [Embarrassed, but pleased.] Shut up! Here's Fletcher's mother; she came on from Richmond yesterday. [He goes down aisle to meet her.] And behind are those girls they want put into the front pews. [Fanshaw and Douglas exeunt. At the same moment that the two disappear, Mrs. Fletcher appears on the arm of the third usher, Trimmins.

Mrs. Fletcher. [To Trimmins, as he shows her into the first pew left.] You know Mrs. Wolton, of course?

Mrs. Fletcher. When she comes, won't you show her in here with me, please? [Trimmins bows and exits. Mrs. Fletcher sits, then kneels a moment, and then reseats herself with a touch to the trimming of the waist of her gown somewhere. Enter Fanshaw with Mrs. Lorrimer, Johnstone with Kitty, and Trimmins with Ethel; ladies outside. Ushers exeunt as soon as guests are seated.

Mrs. Lorrimer. [On being shown into the first pew down stage.] Is this the farthest front you can seat us? [In a dissatisfied tone.

Mrs. Lorrimer. [Laughing.] Of course, so it is. How silly of me! [She passes to the end of the pew nearest to the audience.

Ethel. [Following into pew.] Oh, I say, girls. Isn't that a shame, we're early. [The three women are standing in the pew; they all turn around to glance back into the church, which is supposed to be filling with guests, every once in a while some one being seated by an usher in one of the pews visible to the audience. After a glance round, the three sit down.] What do you think of Douglas Rhodes being an usher?

Mrs. Lorrimer. Oh, my dear, it doesn't take these men long to get over a hopeless passion!

Mrs. Lorrimer. Every time I've tried to make love to him, he has seemed to me awfully in love with her still. [Laugh. Enter guests.

Mrs. Lorrimer. Oh, my dear, you know he isn't that sort of a man at all. He's much more my style!

Kitty. Well, you know none of us ever met him till he began to go to the Woltons. [Enter ushers and guests. A new selection is started on the organ and all half rise and turn, but turn back again at once into their places complacently.

Ethel. I think Marion's been getting to be a perfect stick anyway, these last few years, with all the plain covered books she reads and all her "university settlement" stuff in the slums, and her working-girls' clubs and things. But that makes it all the funnier for her to marry a man she's really not known very long, don't you think so?

Ethel. Everywhere—which you know is as good as nowhere. He's that sort of a man.

Mrs. Lorrimer. Oh, no, his family comes from Virginia. And he's a Harvard man. [Enter Trimmins with guest to pew.] Was in the fastest set there, so he must have some position! [Laughs.

Ethel. [With a laugh.] Ha! And then everyone says she's so sensible! [Door slams. Another different selection is started on the organ and a door is shut off stage. The three women all half rise and turn again.

Gertrude. Well. I only hope Marion will be happy,—she's taught so many others how to enjoy the best of life.

Ethel. I don't see how you can sympathize with her in her philanthropic fads! I believe in being charitable, but there's a right and a wrong way!

Kitty. [Quietly.] Yes, I don't suppose there's a fashionable subscription list in town that hasn't your name on it.

Mrs. Lorrimer. [Leaning over to speak to Ethel.] I agree with you! I went down to one of Marion's working women's evening meetings—and, really, I was bored to death.

Ethel. Isn't the church trimmed horribly; looks as if they did it themselves. It would be just like Marion to have some silly sentiment about it. [Organ stops.

Kitty. [Strongly.] I like Marion for her sentiment. I only hope she isn't marrying Fletcher because of it, in the hope that she will make his life, and perhaps have to spoil her own.

Blanche. [Leaning over and speaking to the three women in front.] Doesn't the church look lovely!

Mrs. Lorrimer. On the left-hand side of the aisle with a last winter's coat, don't you see, with the huge sleeves!

Mrs. Lorrimer. She looks it. The kind that gets cards only to the church. [All laugh. They rise again, excitedly, showing an increase of excitement over the first time they rose, and looking back.

Blanche. No— [General murmur of disappointment.] It's the bride's mother. [All sit again. Mrs. Wolton enters on the arm of Douglas. She is very handsomely dressed in black velvet and white lace. She is shown into the pew with Mrs. Fletcher. They exchange greetings. Douglas exits, at the same time the Clergyman enters behind the chancel rail and goes back behind the palms, &c. Meanwhile the following dialogue is taking place.

Kitty. [Half turning to look back.] Susie Printly's Baltimore cousin has just come in—do you think she's a beauty?

Mrs. Lorrimer. [Laughingly.] Yes, that's she. Fifty cents the small bottle, seventy-five the larger size! [All three laugh. Short pause.

Mrs. Lorrimer. Not at all. I've only been married twice. Do you know who I have my eyes on now?

Mrs. Lorrimer. Yes! Everyone will tell you he's one of the best men in the world.

Ethel. But my dear, that's a change for you! How'll you ever get him into the divorce court?

Mrs. Lorrimer. Nonsense! I don't want to. Haven't you heard ... my house in Dakota's for sale. I don't belong to the Divorce Club any more ... the membership is getting entirely too mixed! [They look back into the church at the people. Mrs. Wolton leans over to Mrs. Fletcher.

Mrs. Wolton. I am so nervous I could almost cry out! Oh, I shall be so relieved ... really, I can't tell you ... when the ceremony's over. [Organ. Wedding march. Fletcher and his groomsman enter in front of the chancel rails. Guests all rise, showing excitement and turning half-way face off the stage, looking down the centre aisle. Mrs. Wolton and Mrs. Fletcher stand facing the altar. Mrs. Fletcher takes Mrs. Wolton's arm affectionately and holds it tight in friendly sympathy. The faint sound is heard of boys' and men's voices singing with the organ the wedding hymn. All watch off the stage, as if following the slow movement of a procession coming up the aisle. Meanwhile the following dialogue occurs.

Ethel. I forget, I've flirted with them both so long, but I think it's the right hand one! [The head of the wedding procession appears. The choristers singing, followed by the six ushers, Douglas and Fanshaw leading, followed by four bridesmaids. The bride enters, leaning on the arm of Mr. Dawson; the choristers exit, and continue singing off stage softly until time indicated for them to stop. The bridesmaids and ushers take their places, grouped properly about the chancel steps. Marion stands at the centre of chancel rail, where she is joined by Fletcher, the groomsmen standing to one side of him. Dawson stands on the opposite side of Marion. The Clergyman has come forward and stands facing them on the other side of the chancel railing. The guests open their prayer-books with a flutter of the leaves. Marion gives bouquet to Dawson. Music stops for a moment.]

Mrs. Lorrimer. Look! do you see how charming Mr. Dawson appears by the chancel rails. I never saw him in a more becoming place, and if it's a possible thing I shall make a rendezvous to meet him there one day! [Music begins again softly, and accompanies the service. At first it is heard quite distinctly while the Clergyman is going through, unheard, the first part of the marriage ceremony. A short pause in the dialogue.

Mrs. Lorrimer. [Whispering back.] One would think she was a widow! I couldn't do better myself! [A short pause in the dialogue. Clergyman looks up and raises his voice a little, addressing the congregation in the church ... but not too loud so as to be too evident.

Clergyman. "If any man ... [A door is shut heavily off stage. At sound of door slam, Douglas exits and returns after Jeannette's entrance, going directly to Mrs. Wolton, who seems overcome.] can show just cause why these two persons should not lawfully be joined together ... [A commotion among the guests, who turn away from the altar, to look back into the church.] ... let him now speak. [Douglas goes top of aisle, to block the passage.] or else hereafter forever hold his peace...."

Jeannette enters, going to the foot of the chancel steps, cries "Stop!" She is a young and attractive looking woman, fashionably, but quietly dressed. All in the church are stunned. The groom, turning, sees her, and starts, but controls himself, glaring at Jeannette. Marion gazes in terror and horror at her; her bouquet drops unnoticed by her. Mrs. Wolton starts to leave her pew, but is held back and persuaded by Mrs. Fletcher to remain quietly where she is. Mr. Dawson steps down one step toward Jeannette.

Marion. [To Clergyman.] Go on with the ceremony. [Dawson steps back to his place. The Clergyman takes up his prayer-book. Jeannette comes up one of the chancel steps.

Fletcher. Is there no one here to put this woman out? [He speaks to the groomsman. Dawson speaks to Fanshaw, who exits, and immediately after the music ceases. Meanwhile the following dialogue.

Mrs. Lorrimer. There may be something we can do. [Kitty and Gertrude exeunt with several of the other guests.

Clergyman. [To Jeannette.] Can you show any reason why this marriage should not ... [Interrupted.

Jeannette. I will. [She exits quickly. Mrs. Wolton goes to the two bridesmaids up stage, who at the same time are joined by the two bridesmaids down stage. Guests go out.

Mrs. Wolton. [As she goes.] Henry! [Dawson joins them.] Take them into the choir-rooms, please. [She motions off stage. Dawson with bouquet exits. Maids exeunt. As they go, Mrs. Wolton and Douglas meet and speak. The Clergyman has been speaking to Marion. Ushers urge guests to leave and exeunt with guests after Jeannette returns.

Clergyman. I am very sorry, but the church does not allow me to. I must give her the chance to prove herself. [Fletcher speaks to his groomsman, Johnstone, who exits into vestry. At the same time Jeannette re-enters, bringing by the hand a small child, Edward, with her. She leads him straight to the foot of the chancel steps, and, pointing to Fletcher, speaks. All through the rest of this scene, the child keeps hold of the skirts of the mother ... standing close to her side.

Jeannette. This is that man's child ... and mine. [Mrs. Lorrimer exits; also Ethel. Re-enter Dawson without bouquet. Fletcher speaks to the Clergyman. Mrs. Fletcher leaves the pew and joins Mrs. Wolton. Douglas joins Mrs. Lorrimer, and all the guests and ushers leave the church quietly. Marion starts to go to Mrs. Wolton.

Jeannette. [Turning and facing Marion.] Ah!... you go to her, in what must be the greatest sorrow of your life ... well, so will he ... [With her arms around the child.] come to me when he begins to understand, and that's why I am here.

Fletcher. [To Clergyman.] Ask her for proofs! She won't have them! It is a question of her word or mine, and surely there can be no such question, when the woman is that sort of thing! [Turns to Marion.] Marion! [The Clergyman goes to Jeannette, up stage, with whom he talks. Marion joins Fletcher, and they come down the steps, but she does not look at him. Mrs. Wolton starts to go to Marion. Fletcher stops her.

Fletcher. [To Mrs. Wolton.] No. I wish to speak to Marion alone. [Mrs. Wolton and Mrs. Fletcher speak together up stage. Mrs. Wolton, turning back, faints. Dawson and Mrs. Fletcher take her out.

Fletcher. I didn't deceive you, did I? You will remember I confessed that before we met my life had not been fit to be lived in the same world with you.

Fletcher. Yes, I realize that now, as it is only since I have known you that I have realized how low I was. Yet, Marion, this sort of thing exists all around us; I am not the only one ... [Interrupted.

Marion. [Looking up in his face for the first time, slowly.] Since you've known me have you been good and honest?

Fletcher. [Without any hesitation, looks back at her, honestly.] Yes. [They hold this position for a moment. Clergyman leaves Jeannette. She speaks after him, following.

Jeannette. But it's moral proof. [Marion turns and goes back to her place ... motions Fletcher to follow. He does so but almost timidly. Clergyman turns from Jeannette.] Listen! So long as he remains as he is, there's a chance that the world won't always be able to fling my boy's shame in his face. And I tell you, sir, the agony she would suffer now is nothing ... nothing to what her life with him would be. And think what it is to ... [Her emotion racks her.] watch your child, your own flesh and blood, day and night, all its life, terror-stricken ... [She controls her emotions.] lest you find some trace of his father in him!

Marion. [Interrupting.] I love him; I am not willing to give him up for that woman!

Marion. Has she proofs? [Fletcher glares at Jeannette; his muscles grow rigid.

Marion. [Quickly.] This man's past, sir, is not yours, nor mine. But his present does belong to me, and his future shall be mine too, to make, not hers to mar.

Fletcher. [Impatient.] Come! We've lost enough time, let's finish this. [Clergyman goes to his proper place behind the chancel rails.

Jeannette. [Coming up one of the chancel steps.] You shall not go on with this marriage.

Fletcher. [Half angry.] She has shown what she is by the way she has chosen to stop it.

Jeannette. That's a cowardly lie! And it was only when I saw by the papers that my letters had been useless that I decided to humiliate myself in this way. Do you think I would so degrade my womanhood for the sake of anything on God's earth, but one ... my child? [To Marion.] Do you think I could do anything but loathe him!... [With a gesture toward Fletcher.

Jeannette. So did I once. And now I'd save you if I could from all I know you'll have to suffer. Once you're his, he'll tire of you....

Marion. [Interrupting.] You forget one thing ... he is going to place a wedding-ring on my hand.

Jeannette. Well, look at that! [She rips her glove off violently, and shows a wedding-ring.] He placed it there! and said he'd take me to a church and make our compact binding.

Fletcher. [Who has started, frightened, at first, has controlled himself and speaks with intense quiet.] This woman's from the streets. She's up to all the tricks.

Jeannette. [Outraged.] How dare you! I am not what he calls me! I swear that here in this holy place. He dragged me through the streets, and any dirt upon my skirts his feet have left there.

Fletcher. Be silent. [To Clergyman.] If you will not finish the service, we will find some one who will.

Marion. [To Clergyman.] No, I will not leave here till we are married. I will not insult the man I have chosen for my husband by doubting his word for hers. I won't believe he made her what she is.

Jeannette. You shall not go on! He's done his best to make me what he says I am ... and God knows he might have succeeded ... [Emotion.] but for my boy's sake I fought the fight for honour ... [Completely controlling her emotion.] The day he tricked me ... [With a look of scorn at Fletcher.] I stood before him as pure a woman as you stand now, and since he left me, there has never been an hour when I couldn't look straight into my child's eyes, not one minute I couldn't feel his two arms about my neck without a shudder.

Jeannette. [To Marion, continuing in the same key and tone as her former speech ... and pleadingly.] Don't make vows that will take away this innocent boy's name.

Fletcher. [Enraged, to Jeannette.] If you don't go now I'll ... [Stops himself.

Jeannette. Before God, yours, [To Marion.] mine, ... [Clasping her hands on her breast.] and his God [With a look of scornful warning at Fletcher.], that man is his father, and my husband.

Fletcher. [In a fearful rage.] You lie! [Enter Mrs. Wolton and Mrs. Fletcher.

Jeannette. [Coming between Marion and Fletcher, she cries out ... a wild, heart-broken, desperate cry.] No! you shall not write Bastard on the forehead of my child!

Fletcher. [Beside himself.] By God! [He strikes Jeannette a blow ... which sounds.... Marion cries out and recoils. The two mothers step forward with exclamations of fright and anger. Dawson comes from the choir, brought by the sound of the cry, and goes to Marion. Jeannette falls when struck. The child clings with both arms about its mother's waist.

Marion. [After a moment, drawing in a long breath, to Fletcher.] Coward! [Her uncle takes a step forward to her ... he carries her wedding bouquet. She seizes it from him and dashes it at the feet of Fletcher, and then, throwing back her head with an expression of scorn, turns from him, takes the arm of her uncle with determination, and goes down the chancel steps out of the church. Fletcher stands crestfallen. Mrs. Wolton and Mrs. Fletcher look at each other, horrified, speechless.

ACT III.

Scene. The library at the Woltons. A handsomely and luxuriously furnished room, somewhat disarranged by the preparations for the wedding. It is here that the wedding presents are displayed; along the two sides and partly across the end are placed long and narrow improvised tables, covered with all sorts of gifts—silver, glass, &c. &c. There are five piano lamps grouped together at the upper corner of table. There are faded flowers about.

Time. The following day.

Discovered. Mrs. Lorrimer at left of table, a maid and man servant are busy wrapping up and addressing some of the wedding presents.

Mrs. Lorrimer. [Who has just finished writing an address on a parcel.] This is one to go by express, Howes.

Servant. [Taking it.] Yes, m'm. [Placing it to one side where are others tied up and addressed.] Beg pardon, m'm, but it's a great pity Miss Marion should lose a husband and all the wedding presents as well.

Mrs. Lorrimer. Oh, it isn't always a pity, Howes, to lose a husband—it's very often a very good thing. [Maid gives Mrs. Lorrimer another parcel to address, which she does—copying from a card which the maid gives her with the parcel. Maid exits.

Servant. [Giving Mrs. Lorrimer a visiting card.] This is the address, m'm—still, if you'll excuse me for saying so, Mrs. Lorrimer—if it was me, I'd keep the presents just by way of a kind of consolation. [She and the Servant tie up another box.

Mrs. Lorrimer. [Addressing.] Ah, but you see their associations would be painful. I have had two husbands and I have each time moved out of the house I occupied with each on the day after losing him.

Servant. You know what trouble is, m'm, to have lost two husbands. Grippe, m'm? [Giving her another parcel. Howes to table up stage.

Mrs. Lorrimer. Not exactly. Another kind of epidemic. The law, Howes. [Howes gives parcel. Mrs. Lorrimer addresses it from a visiting card. Enter Maid with Ethel and Fanshaw.

Maid. I will tell Miss Wolton. [Exit. Fanshaw, Ethel and Mrs. Lorrimer greet each other.

Fanshaw. How do you do? [Shakes hands. Mrs. Lorrimer motions with her head a dismissal to the Servant, and he gets boxes and goes out.

Mrs. Lorrimer. Yes, but she isn't a bit like she was yesterday. She's crying like a child, poor thing,—what she's gone through!

Ethel. Yes, my dear, with all of us in. Marion in a low-necked dress. You're a sight, but my picture's rather good.

Fanshaw. [Who has gotten papers from coat-tail pocket.] Perhaps you'd like to see them.

Mrs. Lorrimer. No, no; put them away quick. I'll see them home. I take every blessed paper. [Fanshaw up to table where he puts hat and papers.

Ethel. I don't believe I would; there are lots of things she's been dying to have.

Fanshaw. Yes, why couldn't she—er—forget—er—overlook—er—any old thing with some of them—I mean those she wants? [Turns up, looking at presents on table.

Mrs. Lorrimer. Well, there are some things I should think she'd be glad to send back. After all, twelve dozen oyster forks are too many for a small family like a newly married couple.

Mrs. Lorrimer. Thirteen, which to say the least, is an unlucky number ... [Rises, puts arm about Ethel and comes left.] and there's that bankrupt stock of piano lamps. [Crosses to sofa; sits on sofa with Ethel. Fanshaw comes down.

Ethel. [Half laughing.] That's true! By the way, have you sent back Mrs. Bayley's presents yet?

Ethel. Go on, tell her, Fanshaw. [Rises and goes to centre. Mrs. Lorrimer and Fanshaw sit on sofa.

Fanshaw. [Laughing.] Oh, it's nothing, only I sent it to Mrs. Bayley myself three Christmases ago as a philopene. I suppose she thought I wouldn't remember, but she forgot both our initials are marked on the bottom.

Ethel. [At table, examining presents. Laughing.] Yes, my dear, and Marion found them. People really ought to be more careful.

Ethel. My dear, it is the rich who do these sort of things. Every year all my second-hand Christmas cards and calendars come from my wealthiest friends! And there's that thing— [Lifting a vase.] Isn't it hideous? I don't know who sent it but— [Interrupted.

Ethel. Good gracious. [Laughs.] I assure you I haven't any taste. [Ethel down centre. Fanshaw rises.

Fanshaw. No, not a bit. [Goes back of sofa and up to table. Ethel up stage by table.

Ethel. How many presents did Marion get, anyway? [Looking among the things on the table.

Ethel. I don't believe she got very many—Marion has always taken up so many poor people. I'm sure I never can tell what she sees in them! [Ethel crosses right of table.

Mrs. Lorrimer. Oh, yes, Ethel, I know how you choose your friends. The other day I heard you were running after the Lloyds—that settles it, I said—they are either going to have a box at the Opera this year, or give a series of dinners, or a big ball. Ethel knows what she's about.

Fanshaw. Exactly—Ethel knows her business, but you left out one thing—they have the best cook in town, too.

Ethel. [Taking up a box with a large silver fish knife in it.] Who gave her this fish knife?

Ethel. Ha! ha! ha! If that isn't appropriate! You know the old man Conrad made all his money out of imitation sardines!

Mrs. Lorrimer. Well, if I could make as much as Conrad, I'd be willing to imitate codfish!

Ethel. [Takes up a small box at which she has been looking.] Here's my present. I might as well take it home with me and save you the trouble. [Puts it in her pocket. She looks at silver hand-glass.

Mrs. Lorrimer. [Dryly.] Thank you! Was that your present in a Tiffany box—a small diamond pin?

Mrs. Lorrimer. Rather. I saw those pins marked down at Wanamaker's Christmas time.

Maid. Mrs. Wolton will be down at once, madam— [Maid exits at back. Fanshaw crosses to table.

Ethel. [Who goes back to Mrs. Lorrimer.] Wasn't it awful yesterday—in the church! [Crosses.

Ethel. [Kneeling, with one knee on the sofa.] Still, I will say one thing, I've always been dying to have it happen.

Ethel. No; if I had my choice I'd rather see it happen to Kitty; she's always pretending she's so sincere and all that.

Ethel. Oh, of course I did. My dear, I meant to tell you when I came in that I'm announcing my engagement to-day.

Mrs. Lorrimer. Good heavens. Allow me to condole— [Crosses to Fanshaw.] I mean congratulate you. And so you're going to be married! [Ethel crosses. They shake hands.

Ethel. Oh, no, only engaged for a little while,—just for fun. [Mrs. Wolton enters.

Mrs. Wolton. Good morning, Ethel. I'm going to ask you to excuse Marion. She isn't seeing any one this morning.

Ethel. I understand—of course—give her my love and tell her not to mind—every one's on her side and,—she looked perfectly lovely. Tell her she had the prettiest wedding dress anyway of the season. [She goes to kiss Mrs. Wolton, who draws back. Both Mrs. Wolton and Mrs. Lorrimer are aghast at the flippant manner of Ethel. Ethel raises her eyebrows, shrugs her shoulders.] Good-bye, good-bye. Come along, Fanshaw. [Exit.

Fanshaw. [Crossing to Mrs. Wolton.] Oh, Mrs. Wolton, don't mind Ethel. She doesn't mean what she sounds like. She never does mean what she sounds like. Besides, she's a little rattled this morning. You see she's engaged again.

Fanshaw. All right, I'm coming. [Takes up hat and papers. Ethel motions for him to leave papers—he does so and exits with Ethel.

Mrs. Wolton. In the same extraordinary frame of mind—I'm afraid she'll be ill.

Mrs. Wolton. Yes, so hard—she hasn't shed a tear—the only person she's at all human with is that poor creature upstairs. And you know she's sent for him.

Mrs. Lorrimer. I wonder why? I never want to see any of my husbands again— [Crosses to Mrs. Wolton.] after they've once disappointed me.

Mrs. Wolton. I suspect—I don't know—Marion refuses to talk about it, but her sending for this Mrs.—er—Miss—er—dear me, I don't know what to call her—but you know who I mean—I think Marion has an idea she can help her to—er— [She hesitates.

Mrs. Lorrimer. You don't mean to marry Fletcher? [Mrs. Wolton nods her head. Incredulously.] She still wants to?

Mrs. Lorrimer. [Very seriously reflecting.] Well, I can understand that. [She rouses herself and finishes in her old manner.] But, my dear, I can sympathize with her, too, poor thing. I know what's before her—you see, both mine were brutes.

Mrs. Wolton. [Rises and crosses to Mrs. Lorrimer.] Will you mind if I say something very frank to you?

Mrs. Wolton. Anyway, I am going to run the risk. You know you are considered—rather—er—

Mrs. Wolton. No, you're not.—These qualities are all only on the surface. [Both sit on sofa.] They are the rouge and powder of your character—underneath, I believe you are plain and sincere.

Mrs. Lorrimer. [Laughing.] I'm not so mad about being plain, but sincere I would like to be.

Mrs. Wolton. It's your wretched luck in your married life that has made you what you are!

Mrs. Lorrimer. [Sincerely, with much feeling, and almost breaking down.] You're right. It was a case of hardening my heart and laughing in the world's face, or—or having it laugh in mine perhaps.

Mrs. Wolton. What you need now as you did in the beginning is a good husband—like mine was.

Mrs. Lorrimer. Good men don't grow on bushes, and besides, good men don't seem to care about me.

Mrs. Wolton. I know just the man, and I believe he's been in love with you for years, though he may not know it himself! [Mrs. Lorrimer looks at her questioningly. Mrs. Wolton goes to her and, putting her arm around her neck, whispers in her ear.] I want you for a sister-in-law.

Mrs. Wolton. Call me "Laura," and I shall feel as if matters had progressed a little. [Enter Dawson—suddenly and unceremoniously. Both women start slightly and exchange a quick, covert, meaning glance. Rise.

Dawson. Good. [Mrs. Lorrimer coughs.] Mrs. Lorrimer— [Shaking her hand.] I have followed you here—they told me at your house.

Mrs. Lorrimer. [Very quickly, aside to Mrs. Wolton with humour.] Say "Emily"—that may help a little, too!

Dawson. [A momentary surprise at the name.] Emily, sweet name—er—yes, if you will allow me, alone. [Goes right, takes out handkerchief, and mops brow.

Mrs. Wolton. Alone!—very well! [Aside to Mrs. Lorrimer.] I'd no idea it would come so soon. It must be that.

Mrs. Lorrimer. [Blushing.] No, no, it's something else— [Believing though that it is.

Mrs. Wolton. [Still aside.] One thing delights me, you're as much in love as he is— [Aloud.] Good-bye, Emily.

Mrs. Lorrimer. [Aloud, with emphasis.] Good-by, Laura! [Mrs. Wolton exits.

Dawson. Mrs. Lorrimer— [Crosses centre.] I want to speak to you on a matter of the greatest privacy.

Dawson. I hesitate because I do not know if I have the right to ask you to share my secret with me.

Mrs. Lorrimer. Yes—but I may not—er—consider it an "inconvenience" to myself. [Smiling.

Dawson. Very well then—the terrible trouble of yesterday is not the only calamity that may happen to my sister and her daughter.

Mrs. Lorrimer. [Rising—surprised, disappointed, but still affected seriously by his serious manner.] It is of them you wish to speak to me?

Mrs. Lorrimer. [With one sigh, dismisses her disappointment and holds out her hand—crosses to right of table.] It is yours for the asking.

Dawson. Thank you! [Presses her hand.] Mr. Wolton killed himself to escape being convicted of a crime. [Sits left of table.

Mrs. Lorrimer. [Withdraws her hand slowly from his, and whispers in tremulous surprise and horror.] What!!!

Dawson. He had misappropriated funds entrusted to his care,—exposure became inevitable—you know the rest.

Dawson. The night of the catastrophe, Fletcher announced his engagement to Marion, and claimed his right to bear a share of the family's trouble. I took him at his word by asking him to come to the rescue of his future wife's name and honour with—money!

Dawson. Yes, I couldn't believe the tales against him, when he had proved his love for Marion by such a big act of generosity.

Dawson. He does, unless Marion marries him. He's mad about her. The good in him has loved her up to now; now it's the devil in him. He's not the same man!

Dawson. Not easily done. Of course you will understand I have nothing; what I had went at the first, and I shall need all my income now for Laura and Marion.

Dawson. [Pleased.] Of course, of course! What a fool I've been not to think of that! How clever you are! But again, it must be borrowed privately for many reasons. [Again a moment's pause, while both think.

Mrs. Lorrimer. Don't ask me till I've seen him and found out—I will go now— [Crossing up centre.] —at once, and make a beginning, and you must go to Fletcher and keep him from coming here.

Dawson. [Astonished.] She isn't still in love with him! I'll go to him and say I've come to talk business; I think that's the best way to put it.

Dawson. [With a world of appreciation and sentiment in his voice and manner.] Without thanking you?

Mrs. Lorrimer. Yes, please, because I don't want you to thank me in a hurry—I want you to take a good long time over it. [A moment's pause; they look at each other. Dawson seizes her hand, half shamefacedly, and kisses it. He starts for hat, which he placed on table as he entered.

Mrs. Lorrimer. [Drawing him back—half shyly.] Oh—answer me just one question....

Mrs. Lorrimer. What have you—a nice man—I mean—a man like you.... [Interrupted.

Mrs. Lorrimer. A "nice" man—you are a nice man, aren't you? [Smiling sweetly and rather archly at him.

Dawson. [Embarrassed.] Well—I—I'm afraid I shall have to leave the answer with you—am I?

Dawson. Well, you see, some people marry so often, some others of us don't marry at all, just to strike a sort of balance!

Mrs. Lorrimer. [Laughing.] That's mean of you to say to me! Come, answer my question honestly.

ACT II.

ACT III.