by Half Hours
EMILY (to whom the address has a seductive sound). We live there.
PHILIP. And I am a clerk in the employ of
THE WILL 173
Curar and Gow, the foreign coaling
agents.
MR. DEVIZES. Yes, yes. Any private in come ?
(They cannot help sniggering a little at
the quaint question.) PHILIP. Oh no !
MR. DEVIZES. I see it will be quite a brief will. PHILIP (to whom the remark sounds scarcely
worthy of a great occasion). My income is
a biggish one. MR. DEVIZES. Yes? EMILY (important). He has 170 a year. MR. DEVIZES. Ah. PHILIP. I began at 60. But it is going
up, Mr. Devizes, by leaps and bounds.
Another 15 this year. MR. DEVIZES. Good.
PHILIP (darkly). I have a certain ambition. EMILY (eagerly). Tell him, Philip. PHILIP (with a big breath). We have made
up our minds to come to 365 a year
before I retire.
174 THE WILL
EMILY. That is a pound a day.
MR. DEVIZES (smiling sympathetically on them). So it is. My best wishes.
PHILIP. Thank you. Of course the furnish ing took a good deal.
MR. DEVIZES. It would.
EMILY. He insisted on my having the very best. (She ceases. She is probably think ing of her superb spare bedroom.)
PHILIP. But we are not a penny in debt; and I have 200 saved.
MR. DEVIZES. I think you have made a brave beginning.
EMILY. They have the highest opinion of him in the office.
PHILIP. Then I am insured for 500.
MR. DEVIZES. I am glad to hear that.
PHILIP. Of course I would like to leave her a house in Kensington and a carriage and pair.
MR. DEVIZES. Who knows, perhaps you will.
EMILY. Oh!
MR. DEVIZES. Forgive me.
THE WILL 175
EMILY. What would houses and horses be to me without him!
MR. DEVIZES (soothingly). Quite so. What I take Mr. Ross to mean is that when he dies if he ever should die every thing is to go to his his spouse.
PHILIP (dogged). Yes.
EMILY (dogged). No.
PHILIP (sighing). This is the only difference we have ever had. Mrs. Ross insists on certain bequests. You see, I have two cousins, ladies, not well off, whom I have been in the way of helping a little. But in my will, how can I ?
MR. DEVIZES. You must think first of your wife.
PHILIP. But she insists on my leaving 50 to each of them. (He looks appealingly to his wife.)
EMILY (grandly). 100.
PHILIP. 50.
EMILY. Dear, 100.
MR. DEVIZES. Let us say 75.
176 THE WILL
PHILIP (reluctantly). Very well.
EMILY. No, 100.
PHILIP. She '11 have to get her way. Here are their names and addresses.
MR. DEVIZES. Anything else ?
PHILIP (hurriedly). No.
EMILY. The convalescent home, dear. He was in it a year ago, and they were so kind.
PHILIP. Yes, but
EMILY. 10. (He has to yield, with a re proachful, admiring look.)
MR. DEVIZES. Then if that is all, I won't de tain you. If you look in to-morrow, Mr. Ross, about this time, we shall have everything ready for you. ( Their faces fall.)
EMILY. Oh, Mr. Devizes, if only it could all be drawn up now, and done with.
PHILIP. You see, sir, we are screwed up to it to-day.
(' Our fate is in your hands, they might be saying, and the lawyer smiles to . find himself such a power.)
THE WILL 177
MR. DEVIZES (looking at his watch). Well, it certainly need not take long. You go out and have lunch somewhere, and then come back.
EMILY. Oh, don't ask me to eat.
PHILIP. We are too excited.
EMILY. Please may we just walk about the street ?
MR. DEVIZES (smiling). Of course you may, you ridiculous young wife.
EMILY. I know it 's ridiculous of me, but I am so fond of him.
MR. DEVIZES. Yes, it is ridiculous. But don't change; especially if you get on in the world, Mr. Ross.
PHILIP. No fear !
EMILY (backing from the will, which may now be said to be in existence). And please don't give us a copy of it to keep. I would rather not have it in the house.
MR. DEVIZES (nodding reassuringly). In an hour's time. (They go, and the lawyer has his lunch, which is simpler than
178 THE WILL
ROBERT'S: a sandwich and a glass of wine. He speaks as he eats.} You will get that ready, Surtees. Here are the names and addresses he left. (Cheerily) A nice couple.
SURTEES (who is hearing another voice). Yes, sir.
MR. DEVIZES (unbending). Little romance of its kind. Makes one feel quite gay.
SURTEES. Yes, sir.
MR. DEVIZES (struck perhaps by the deadness of his voice). You don't look very gay, Surtees.
SURTEES. I' m sorry, sir. We can't all be gay. (He is going out without looking at his employer.) I '11 see to this, sir.
MR. DEVIZES. Stop a minute. Is there any thing wrong? (SURTEES has difficulty in answering, and MR. DEVIZES goes to him kindly.) Not worrying over that matter we spoke about? (SURTEES in clines his head.) Is the pain worse ?
SURTEES. It 's no great pain, sir.
THE WILL 179
MR. DEVIZES (uncomfortably). I 'm sure it 5 s not what you fear. Any specialist would tell you so.
SURTEES (without looking up). I have been to one, sir yesterday.
MR. DEVIZES. Well ?
SURTEES. It 's that, sir.
MR. DEVIZES. He couldn't be sure.
SURTEES. Yes, sir.
MR. DEVIZES. An operation
SURTEES. Too late, he said, for that. If I had been operated on long ago there might have been a chance.
MR. DEVIZES. But you didn't have it long ago.
SURTEES. Not to my knowledge, sir; but he says it was there all the same, always in me, a black spot, not so big as a pin's head, but waiting to spread and destroy me in the fulness of time. All the rest of me as sound as a bell. (That is the voice that SURTEES has been hearing.)
MR. DEVIZES (helpless). It seems damnably unfair.
180 THE WILL
SURTEES (humbly). I don't know, sir. He says there 's a spot of that kind in pretty nigh all of us, and if we don't look out it does for us in the end.
MR. DEVIZES (hurriedly). No, no, no.
SURTEES. He called it the accursed thing. I think he meant we should know of it and be on the watch. (He pulls himself together.) I '11 see to this at once, sir. (He goes out. MR. DEVIZES continues his lunch.)
The curtain falls here for a moment only, to indicate the passing of a number of years. When it rises we see that the engraving of Queen Victoria has given way to one of King Edward.
ROBERT is discovered, immersed in affairs. He is now a middle-aged man who has long forgotten how to fling cards into a hat. To him comes SENNET, a brisk clerk.
THE WILL 181
SENNET. Mrs. Philip Ross to see you, sir. ROBERT. Mr. Ross, don't you mean, Sennet ? SENNET. No, sir.
ROBERT. Ha. It was Mr. Ross I was ex pecting. Show her in. (Frowning) And, Sennet, less row in the office, if you please. SENNET (glibly). It was these young clerks,
sir
ROBERT. They mustn't be young here, or
they go. Tell them that. SENNET (glad to be gone). Yes, sir.
(He shows in MRS. Ross. We have not seen her for twenty years and would certainly not recognise her in the street. So shrinking her first entrance into this room, but she sails in now like a galleon. She is not so much dressed as richly upholstered. She is very sure of herself. Yet she is not a different woman from the EMILY we remember; the pity of it is that somehow this is the same woman.)
182 THE WILL
ROBERT (who makes much of his important visitor and is also wondering why she has come). This is a delightfu
l surprise, Mrs. Ross. Allow me. (He removes her fine cloak with proper solicitude, and EMILY walks out of it in the manner that makes it worth possessing.} This chair, alas, is the best I can offer you.
EMILY (who is still a good-natured woman if you attempt no nonsense with her). It will do quite well.
ROBERT (gallantly). Honoured to see you in it.
EMILY (smartly). Not you. You were saying to yourself, 'Now, what brings the woman here?'
ROBERT. Honestly, I
EMILY. And I '11 tell you. You are expect ing Mr. Ross, I think ?
ROBERT (cautiously). Well ah
EMILY. Pooh. The cunning of you lawyers. I know he has an appointment with you, and that is why I 've come.
THE WILL 183
ROBERT. He arranged with you to meet him here?
EMILY (preening herself). I wouldn't say that. I don't know that he will be specially pleased to find me here when he comes.
ROBERT (guardedly). Oh?
EMILY (who is now a woman that g oes straight to her goal). I know what he is coming about. To make a new will.
ROBERT (admitting if). After all, not the first he has made with us, Mrs. Ross.
EMILY (promptly). No, the fourth.
ROBERT (warming his hands at the thought). Such a wonderful career. He goes from success to success.
EMILY (complacently). Yes, we 're big folk.
ROBERT. You are indeed.
EMILY (sharply). But the last will covered everything.
ROBERT (on guard again). Of course it is a matter I cannot well discuss even with you. And I know nothing of his inten tions.
184 THE WILL
EMILY. Well, I suspect some of them. ROBERT. Ah.
EMILY. And that 's why I 'm here. Just to see that he does nothing foolish.
(She settles herself more comfortably as MR. Ross is announced. A city magnate walks in. You know he is that before you see that he is PHILIP Ross.)
PHILIP (speaking as he enters). How do, Devizes, how do. Well, let us get at this thing at once. Time is money, you know, time is money. (Then he sees his wife.) Hello, Emily.
EMILY (unperturbed). You didn't ask me to come, Philip, but I thought I might as well. PHILIP. That 's all right.
(His brow had lowered at first sight of her, but now he gives her cleverness a grin of respect.) EMILY. It is the first will you have made
THE WILL 185
without taking me into your con fidence. PHILIP. No important changes. I just
thought to save you the unpleasantness
of the thing.
EMILY. How do you mean ? PHILIP (fidgeting). Well, one can't draw up
a will without feeling for the moment
that he is bringing his end nearer. Is
that not so, Devizes ? ROBERT (who will quite possibly die intestate).
Some do have that feeling. EMILY. But what nonsense. How can it
have any effect of that kind one way or
the other? ROBERT. Quite so. EMILY (reprovingly). Just silly sentiment,
Philip. I would have thought it would
be a pleasure to you handling such a big
sum. PHILIP (wincing). Not handling it, giving it
up. EMILY. To those you love.
186 THE WILL
PHILIP (rather shortly). I'm not giving it
up yet. You talk as if I was on my last
legs. EMILY (imperturbably). Not at all. It 's you
that are doing that. ROBERT (to the rescue). Here is my copy of
the last will. I don't know if you would
like me to read it out ? PHILIP. It 's hardly necessary. EMILY. We have our own copy at home and
we know it well. PHILIP (sitting back in his chair). What do
you think I 'ni worth to-day, Devizes ? (Every one smiles. It is as if the sun
had peeped in at the window.} ROBERT. I daren't guess. PHILIP. An easy seventy thou. EMILY. And that 's not counting the house
and the country cottage. We call it a
cottage. You should see it ! ROBERT. I have heard of it. EMILY (more sharply, though the sun still
shines). Well, go on, Philip. I suppose
THE WILL 187
you are not thinking of cutting me out
of anything. PHILIP (heartily). Of course not. There will
be more to you than ever. EMILY (coolly). There 's more to leave.
PHILIP (hesitating). At the same time
EMILY. Well? It's to be mine absolutely
of course. Not just a life interest. PHILIP (doggedly). That is a change I was
thinking of. EMILY. Just what I have suspected for days.
Will you please to say why ? ROBERT (whose client after all is the man). Of
course it is quite common. EMILY. I didn't think my husband was quite
common. ROBERT. I only mean that as there are
children
PHILIP. That 's what I mean too.
EMILY. And I can't be trusted to leave my
money to my own children! In what
way have I ever failed them before ? PHILIP (believing it too). Never, Emily, never.
188 THE WILL
A more devoted mother If you have
one failing it is that you spoil them. EMILY. Then what 's your reason ? PHILIP (less sincerely). Just to save you
worry when I 'm gone. EMILY. It 's no worry to me to look after
my money.
PHILIP (bridling). After all, it 's my money. EMILY. I knew that was what was at the
back of your mind. PHILIP (reverently). It 's such a great
sum. EMILY. One would think you were afraid I
would marry again. PHILIP (snapping). One would think you
looked to my dying next week. EMILY. Tuts.
(PHILIP is unable to sit still.) PHILIP. My money. If you were to invest
it badly and lose it. I tell you, Devizes,
I couldn't lie quiet in my grave if I
thought my money was lost by injudicious
investments.
THE WILL 189
EMILY (coldly). You are thinking of yourself, Philip, rather than of the children.
PHILIP. Not at all.
ROBERT (hastily). How are the two children:?
EMILY. Though I say it myself, there never were better. Harry is at Eton, you know, the most fashionable school in the country.
ROBERT. Doing well, I hope.
PHILIP (chuckling). We have the most grati fying letters from him. Last Saturday he was caught smoking cigarettes with a lord. (With pardonable pride) They were sick together.
ROBERT. And Miss Gwendolen? She must be almost grown up now.
(The parents exchange i_. important glances.)
EMILY. Should we tell him ?
PHILIP. Under the rose, you know, Devizes,
ROBERT. Am I to congratulate her ?
EMILY. No names, Philip.
PHILIP. No, no names but she won't be a plain Mrs., no sir.
190 THE WILL
EGBERT. Well done, Miss Gwendolen. (With
fitting jocularity) Now I see why you
want a new will.
PHILIP. Yes, that 's my main reason, Emily. EMILY. But none of your life interests for
me, Philip.
PHILIP (shying). We'll talk that over pres ently. ROBERT. Will you keep the legacies as they
are? PHILIP. Well, there's that 500 for the
hospitals. EMILY. Yes, with so many claims on us, is
that necessary ? PHILIP (becoming stonier). I 'm going to
make it 1000. EMILY. Philip! PHILIP. My mind is made up. I want to
make a splash with the hospitals. ROBERT (hurrying to the next item). There is
50 a year each to two cousins, ladies. PHILIP. I suppose we '11 keep that as it is a
Emily?
THE WILL 191
EMILY. It was just gifts to them of 100
each at first.
PHILIP. I was poor at that time myself. EMILY. D
o you think it 's wise to load them
with so much money ? They '11 not
know what to do with it. PHILIP. They 're old. EMILY. But they 're wiry. 75 a year
between them would surely be enough. PHILIP. It would be if they lived together,
but you see they don't. They hate each
other like cat and dog. EMILY. That 's not nice between relatives.
You could leave it to them on condition
that they do live together. That would
be a Christian action. PHILIP. There 's something in that. ROBERT. Then the chief matter is whether
Mrs. Ross
EMILY. Oh, I thought that was settled. PHILIP (with a sigh). I '11 have to give in to
her, sir. ROBERT. Very well. I suppose my father
192 THE WILL
i
will want to draw up the will. I 'm
sorry he had to be in the country to-day. EMILY (affable now that she has gained her
point). I hope he is wearing well? 'ROBERT. Wonderfully. He is away playing
golf. PHILIP (grinning). Golf. I have no time
for games. (Considerately) But he must
get the drawing up of my will. I couldn't
deprive the old man of that. ROBERT. He will be proud to do it again. PHILIP (well satisfied). Ah! There's many
a one would like to look over your father's
shoulder when he 's drawing up my will.
I wonder what I '11 cut up for in the end.
But I must be going. EMILY. Can I drop you anywhere? I have
the greys out. PHILIP. Yes, at the club.
(Now MRS. Ross walks into her cloak.)
Good-day, Devizes. I won't have time
to look in again, so tell the old man to
come to me.
THE WILL 193
ROBERT (deferentially). Whatever suits you
best. (Ringing.} He will be delighted.
I remember his saying to me on the day
you made your first will
