Complete Works of J. M. Barrie

by Unknown

  LORD BROCKLEHURST. I didn’t. He wired me that he couldn’t come.

  LADY MARY (with a tremor). But he wrote you?

  LORD BROCKLEHURST. No.

  LADY MARY (a bird singing in her breast). You haven’t seen him since?

  LORD BROCKLEHURST. No.

  (She is saved. Is he to be let off also? Not at all. She bears down on him like a ship of war.)

  LADY MARY. George, who and what is this woman?

  LORD BROCKLEHURST (cowering). She was — she is — the shame of it — a lady’s-maid.

  LADY MARY (properly horrified). A what?

  LORD BROCKLEHURST. A lady’s-maid. A mere servant, Mary. (LADY MARY whirls round so that he shall not see her face.) I first met her at this house when you were entertaining the servants; so you see it was largely your father’s fault.

  LADY MARY (looking him up and down). A lady’s-maid?

  LORD BROCKLEHURST (degraded). Her name was Fisher.

  LADY MARY. My maid!

  LORD BROCKLEHURST (with open hands). Can you forgive me, Mary?

  LADY MARY. Oh George, George!

  LORD BROCKLEHURST. Mother urged me not to tell you anything about it; but —

  LADY MARY (from her heart). I am so glad you told me.

  LORD BROCKLEHURST. You see there was nothing wrong in it.

  LADY MARY (thinking perhaps of another incident). No, indeed.

  LORD BROCKLEHURST (inclined to simper again). And she behaved awfully well. She quite saw that it was because the boat was late. I suppose the glamour to a girl in service of a man in high position —

  LADY MARY. Glamour! — yes, yes, that was it.

  LORD BROCKLEHURST. Mother says that a girl in such circumstances is to be excused if she loses her head.

  LADY MARY (impulsively). George, I am so sorry if I said anything against your mother. I am sure she is the dearest old thing.

  LORD BROCKLEHURST (in calm waters at last). Of course for women of our class she has a very different standard.

  LADY MARY (grown tiny). Of course.

  LORD BROCKLEHURST. You see, knowing how good a woman she is herself, she was naturally anxious that I should marry some one like her. That is what has made her watch your conduct so jealously, Mary.

  LADY MARY (hurriedly thinking things out). I know. I — I think, George, that before your mother comes I should like to say a word to father.

  LORD BROCKLEHURST (nervously). About this?

  LADY MARY. Oh no; I shan’t tell him of this. About something else.

  LORD BROCKLEHURST. And you do forgive me, Mary?

  LADY MARY (smiling on him). Yes, yes. I — I am sure the boat was very late, George.

  LORD BROCKLEHURST (earnestly). It really was.

  LADY MARY. I am even relieved to know that you are not quite perfect, dear. (She rests her hands on his shoulders. She has a moment of contrition.) George, when we are married, we shall try to be not an entirely frivolous couple, won’t we? We must endeavour to be of some little use, dear.

  LORD BROCKLEHURST (the ass). Noblesse oblige.

  LADY MARY (haunted by the phrases of a better man). Mary Lasenby is determined to play the game, George.

  (Perhaps she adds to herself, ‘Except just this once.’ A kiss closes this episode of the two lovers; and soon after the departure of LADY MARY the COUNTESS OF BROCKLEHURST is announced. She is a very formidable old lady.)

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. Alone, George?

  LORD BROCKLEHURST. Mother, I told her all; she has behaved magnificently.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST (who has not shared his fears). Silly boy. (She casts a supercilious eye on the island trophies.) So these are the wonders they brought back with them. Gone away to dry her eyes, I suppose?

  LORD BROCKLEHURST (proud of his mate). She didn’t cry, mother.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. No? (She reflects.) You’re quite right. I wouldn’t have cried. Cold, icy. Yes, that was it.

  LORD BROCKLEHURST (who has not often contradicted her). I assure you, mother, that wasn’t it at all. She forgave me at once.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST (opening her eyes sharply to the full). Oh!

  LORD BROCKLEHURST. She was awfully nice about the boat being late; she even said she was relieved to find that I wasn’t quite perfect.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST (pouncing). She said that?

  LORD BROCKLEHURST. She really did.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. I mean I wouldn’t. Now if I had said that, what would have made me say it? (Suspiciously.) George, is Mary all we think her?

  LORD BROCKLEHURST (with unexpected spirit). If she wasn’t, mother, you would know it.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. Hold your tongue, boy. We don’t really know what happened on that island.

  LORD BROCKLEHURST. You were reading the book all the morning.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. How can I be sure that the book is true?

  LORD BROCKLEHURST. They all talk of it as true.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. How do I know that they are not lying?

  LORD BROCKLEHURST. Why should they lie?

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. Why shouldn’t they? (She reflects again.) If I had been wrecked on an island, I think it highly probable that I should have lied when I came back. Weren’t some servants with them?

  LORD BROCKLEHURST. Crichton, the butler. (He is surprised to see her ring the bell.) Why, mother, you are not going to —

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. Yes, I am. (Pointedly.) George, watch whether Crichton begins any of his answers to my questions with ‘The fact is.’

  LORD BROCKLEHURST. Why?

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. Because that is usually the beginning of a lie.

  LORD BROCKLEHURST (as CRICHTON opens the door). Mother, you can’t do these things in other people’s houses.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST (coolly, to CRICHTON). It was I who rang. (Surveying him through her eyeglass.) So you were one of the castaways, Crichton?

  CRICHTON. Yes, my lady.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. Delightful book Mr. Woolley has written about your adventures. (CRICHTON bows.) Don’t you think so?

  CRICHTON. I have not read it, my lady.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. Odd that they should not have presented you with a copy.

  LORD BROCKLEHURST. Presumably Crichton is no reader.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. By the way, Crichton, were there any books on the island?

  CRICHTON. I had one, my lady — Henley’s poems.

  LORD BROCKLEHURST. Never heard of him.

  (CRICHTON again bows.)

  LADY BROCKLEHURST (who has not heard of him either). I think you were not the only servant wrecked?

  CRICHTON. There was a young woman, my lady.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. I want to see her. (CRICHTON bows, but remains.) Fetch her up. (He goes.)

  LORD BROCKLEHURST (almost standing up to his mother). This is scandalous.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST (defining her position). I am a mother.

  (CATHERINE and AGATHA enter in dazzling confections, and quake in secret to find themselves practically alone with LADY BROCKLEHURST.)

  (Even as she greets them.) How d’you do, Catherine — Agatha? You didn’t dress like this on the island, I expect! By the way, how did you dress?

  (They have thought themselves prepared, but — )

  AGATHA. Not — not so well, of course, but quite the same idea.

  (They are relieved by the arrival of TREHERNE, who is in clerical dress.)

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. How do you do, Mr. Treherne? There is not so much of you in the book as I had hoped.

  TREHERNE (modestly). There wasn’t very much of me on the island, Lady Brocklehurst.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. How d’ye mean? (He shrugs his honest shoulders.)

  LORD BROCKLEHURST. I hear you have got a living, Treherne. Congratulations.

  TREHERNE. Thanks.

  LORD BROCKLEHURST. Is it a good one?

  TREHERNE. So — so. They are rather weak in bowling, but it’s a good bit of turf. (Confidence is restored by the entrance of ERNEST, who takes in the sit
uation promptly, and, of course, knows he is a match for any old lady.)

  ERNEST (with ease). How do you do, Lady Brocklehurst.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. Our brilliant author!

  ERNEST (impervious to satire). Oh, I don’t know.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. It is as engrossing, Mr. Woolley, as if it were a work of fiction.

  ERNEST (suddenly uncomfortable). Thanks, awfully. (Recovering.) The fact is — (He is puzzled by seeing the Brocklehurst family exchange meaning looks.)

  CATHERINE (to the rescue). Lady Brocklehurst, Mr. Treherne and I — we are engaged.

  AGATHA. And Ernest and I.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST (grimly). I see, my dears; thought it wise to keep the island in the family.

  (An awkward moment this for the entrance of LORD LOAM and LADY MARY, who, after a private talk upstairs, are feeling happy and secure.)

  LORD LOAM (with two hands for his distinguished guest). Aha! ha, ha! younger than any of them, Emily.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. Flatterer. (To LADY MARY.) You seem in high spirits, Mary.

  LADY MARY (gaily). I am.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST (with a significant glance at LORD BROCKLEHURST). After —

  LADY MARY. I — I mean. The fact is —

  (Again that disconcerting glance between the Countess and her son.)

  LORD LOAM (humorously). She hears wedding bells, Emily, ha, ha!

  LADY BROCKLEHURST (coldly). Do you, Mary? Can’t say I do; but I’m hard of hearing.

  LADY MARY (instantly her match). If you don’t, Lady Brocklehurst, I’m sure I don’t.

  LORD LOAM (nervously). Tut, tut. Seen our curios from the island, Emily; I should like you to examine them.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. Thank you, Henry. I am glad you say that, for I have just taken the liberty of asking two of them to step upstairs. (There is an uncomfortable silence, which the entrance of CRICHTON with TWEENY does not seem to dissipate. CRICHTON is impenetrable, but TWEENY hangs back in fear.)

  LORD BROCKLEHURST (stoutly). Loam, I have no hand in this.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST (undisturbed). Pooh, what have I done? You always begged me to speak to the servants, Henry, and I merely wanted to discover whether the views you used to hold about equality were adopted on the island; it seemed a splendid opportunity, but Mr. Woolley has not a word on the subject.

  (All eyes turn to ERNEST.)

  ERNEST (with confidence). The fact is —

  (The fatal words again.)

  LORD LOAM (not quite certain what he is to assure her of). I assure you, Emily —

  LADY MARY (as cold as steel). Father, nothing whatever happened on the island of which I, for one, am ashamed, and I hope Crichton will be allowed to answer Lady Brocklehurst’s questions.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. To be sure. There’s nothing to make a fuss about, and we’re a family party. (To CRICHTON.) Now, truthfully, my man.

  CRICHTON (calmly). I promise that, my lady.

  (Some hearts sink, the hearts that could never understand a Crichton.)

  LADY BROCKLEHURST (sharply). Well, were you all equal on the island?

  CRICHTON. No, my lady. I think I may say there was as little equality there as elsewhere.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. Ah the social distinctions were preserved?

  CRICHTON. As at home, my lady.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. The servants?

  CRICHTON. They had to keep their place.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. Wonderful. How was it managed? (With an inspiration.) You, girl, tell me that?

  (Can there be a more critical moment?)

  TWEENY (in agony). If you please, my lady, it was all the Gov.’s doing.

  (They give themselves up for lost. LORD LOAM tries to sink out of sight.)

  CRICHTON. In the regrettable slang of the servants’ hall, my lady, the master is usually referred to as the Gov.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. I see. (She turns to LORD LOAM.) You —

  LORD LOAM (reappearing). Yes, I understand that is what they call me.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST (to CRICHTON). You didn’t even take your meals with the family?

  CRICHTON. No, my lady, I dined apart.

  (Is all safe?)

  LADY BROCKLEHURST (alas). You, girl, also? Did you dine with Crichton?

  TWEENY (scared). No, your ladyship.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST (fastening on her). With whom?

  TWEENY. I took my bit of supper with — with Daddy and Polly and the rest.

  (Vae victis.)

  ERNEST (leaping into the breach). Dear old Daddy — he was our monkey. You remember our monkey, Agatha?

  AGATHA. Rather! What a funny old darling he was.

  CATHERINE (thus encouraged). And don’t you think Polly was the sweetest little parrot, Mary?

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. Ah! I understand; animals you had domesticated?

  LORD LOAM (heavily). Quite so — quite so.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. The servants’ teas that used to take place here once a month —

  CRICHTON. They did not seem natural on the island, my lady, and were discontinued by the Gov.’s orders.

  LORD BROCKLEHURST. A clear proof, Loam, that they were a mistake here.

  LORD LOAM (seeing the opportunity for a diversion). I admit it frankly. I abandon them. Emily, as the result of our experiences on the island, I think of going over to the Tories.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. I am delighted to hear it.

  LORD LOAM (expanding). Thank you, Crichton, thank you; that is all.

  (He motions to them to go, but the time is not yet.)

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. One moment. (There is a universal but stifled groan.) Young people, Crichton, will be young people, even on an island; now, I suppose there was a certain amount of — shall we say sentimentalising, going on?

  CRICHTON. Yes, my lady, there was.

  LORD BROCKLEHURST (ashamed). Mother!

  LADY BROCKLEHURST (disregarding him). Which gentleman? (To TWEENY) You, girl, tell me.

  TWEENY (confused). If you please, my lady —

  ERNEST (hurriedly). The fact is — (He is checked as before, and probably says ‘D — n’ to himself, but he has saved the situation.)

  TWEENY (gasping). It was him — Mr. Ernest, your ladyship.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST (counsel for the prosecution). With which lady?

  AGATHA. I have already told you, Lady Brocklehurst, that Ernest and I —

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. Yes, now; but you were two years on the island. (Looking at LADY MARY). Was it this lady?

  TWEENY. No, your ladyship.

  LADY BROCKLEHURST. Then I don’t care which of the others it was. (TWEENY gurgles.) Well, I suppose that will do.

  LORD BROCKLEHURST. Do! I hope you are ashamed of yourself, mother. (To CRICHTON, who is going). You are an excellent fellow, Crichton; and if, after we are married, you ever wish to change your place, come to us.

  LADY MARY (losing her head for the only time). Oh no, impossible —

  LADY BROCKLEHURST (at once suspicious). Why impossible? (LADY MARY cannot answer, or perhaps she is too proud.) Do you see why it should be impossible, my man?

  (He can make or mar his unworthy MARY now. Have you any doubt of him?)

  CRICHTON. Yes, my lady. I had not told you, my lord, but as soon as your lordship is suited I wish to leave service. (They are all immensely relieved, except poor TWEENY.)

  TREHERNE (the only curious one). What will you do, Crichton? (CRICHTON shrugs his shoulders; ‘God knows’, it may mean.)

  CRICHTON. Shall I withdraw, my lord? (He withdraws without a tremor, TWEENY accompanying him. They can all breathe again; the thunderstorm is over.)

  LADY BROCKLEHURST (thankful to have made herself unpleasant). Horrid of me, wasn’t it? But if one wasn’t disagreeable now and again, it would be horribly tedious to be an old woman. He will soon be yours, Mary, and then — think of the opportunities you will have of being disagreeable to me. On that understanding, my dear, don’t you think we might — ? (Their cold lips meet.)