Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Henry James | SUMMERSOFT


Written just a few months after the much reviled production of James Guy Domville, which ended James’ career as a playwright, Summersoft was commissioned by American actress, Ellen Terry, who paid James but never performed the work. James later converted the play into a story to accompany his Turn of the Screw.


Summersoft
By Henry James

 (a comedy in one act, 1895)

 
The scene is the hall, the spacious central apartment, of an old English country-house; which has the mark of extreme antiquity and of several very beautiful and curious architectural and decorative features. It shows, definitely, the fallen fortunes – the reduced income – of the people who have, for ages, inhabited it, but still contains some very charming and valuable old objects, domestic treasures, portraits, relics of the past, carefully preserved. It is a Saturday afternoon in August, a hot, still day, and the windows stand open to the old park in one quarter, to the old garden in another. There are four entrances and exits, of which the most striking is a high staircase leading to an upper gallery. Another is the door or passage of the vesitbule connected with the main entrance to the house – the way in from the park. Another is the way to the drawing-room, another the way to the garden. CHIVERS stands at the foot of the staircase, looking up, as if in conversation with someone above, who appears to have been speaking or calling to him from the upper gallery.

 

CHIVERS

 

Oh no, mum, there ain’t no one come yet: it’s all right.  (Coming down.)  If I leave her to range, ain’t it just my poor pickings?  (As if hearing a voice from above.)  Lots of lovely—? Lovely what, mum?  (Back at the staircase.)  Little ups and downs? As you say, mum – as many as in a poor man’s life!  (Listening hard.)  Dear little crooked steps? Please mind ’em, mum: they be cruel in the dark corners!  (To himself, with vague pleasure.)  She do fancy the place!  (Then again to the voice above.)  Coming up? Not if you’ll indulge me, mum – I must be where I can hear the bell.  (As the bell of the house-door rings out.)  Mercy – I can hear that!  (Shuffles across to the vestibule, in which he disappears, re-entering from it the next moment with MR PRODMORE.)

 

PRODMORE

 

(Looking round, disappointed.)  No one here?

 

CHIVERS

 

No one has come, sir; but I’ve had a telegram from Captain Yule.

 

PRODMORE

 

(Apprehensive.)  Not to say he ain’t coming?

 

CHIVERS

 

He was to take the 2.40 from Paddington: he certainly should be here.

 

PRODMORE

 

He should have been here this hour. And so should my daughter!

 

CHIVERS

 

(Timid, tentative.)  Were they coming – a – together, sir?

 

PRODMORE

 

(Shocked, staring.)  Together? – for what do you take Miss Prodmore?  (Then with a more conciliatory second thought.)  It is in a sense true, however, that their ‘coming together’, as you call it, is exactly what I’ve made my plans for to-day: my calculation was that we should all punctually converge on this spot. Attended by her trusty maid, Miss Prodmore, who happens to be on a week’s visit to her grandmother at Bellborough, was to take the 1.50 from that place. I was to drive over – ten miles – from my most convenient seat. Captain Yule was at last to shake off for a few hours the peculiar occupations that engage him.

 

CHIVERS

 

They must be peculiar, sir – when a gentleman comes into a property like this and goes three months without so much as nateral curiosity—! I don’t speak of anything but what’s nateral, sir; but there have been people here—

 

PRODMORE

 

(Interrupting; complacently.)  There are always people here!

 

CHIVERS

 

As you say, sir – to be shown over. And the master himself has never been shown!

 

PRODMORE

 

He shall be, from top to bottom – it’s precisely what I’ve come for!  (Looking round him.)  He’ll be struck – though he has been up to his eyes in such very different matters.

 

CHIVERS

 

(Timorous, wondering.)  But nothing but what’s right, sir—?

 

PRODMORE

 

(With extreme emphasis.)  Everything that’s utterly wrong!  (As the bell again sounds.)  Here he is.  (CHIVERS, dismayed, hurries off to the door and disappears in the vestibule. PRODMORE, alone, looks complacently round him.)  But if he resists the house—  (Breaking off as he hears his daughter’s voice in the vestibule.)  Cora? – he won’t resist the girl!  (Re-enter CHIVERS, ushering in CORA PRODMORE, whom her father addresses severely.)  I’ve waited.

 

CORA

 

(Flurried, breathless.)  I’m so sorry, Papa!

 

PRODMORE

 

(Suspicious, stern.)  Would you have wished then not to find me? – Why are you late?

 

CORA

 

(Agitated, embarrassed.)  I’ll tell you, Papa.  (Looking vaguely round her, in distress, for relief; then abruptly.)  I feel rather faint – could I have some tea?

 

PRODMORE

 

(After considering the idea.)  Well, as I shall expect you to put forth your powers – yes.  (To CHIVERS.)  Some tea.

 

CHIVERS

 

(Taken aback.)  I don’t hardly know what you’ll make of my tea! But you shall have it at least in the drawing-room.  (Exit to the drawing-room.)

 

CORA

 

It was my train, Papa – so awfully behind! And then I walked up from the station – there’s such a lovely footpath across the park.

 

PRODMORE

 

You’ve been roaming the country, then, alone?

 

CORA

 

(Conscious.)  Oh dear, no; not alone! There were ever so many people about.

 

PRODMORE

 

There are sometimes too many! – And where’s your trusty maid?

 

CORA

 

(Confused.)  I didn’t bring her: she seemed so very unwell.

 

PRODMORE

 

(Blank.)  What on earth is the matter with her?

 

CORA

 

I don’t quite know – I think that at Granny’s she eats too much.

 

PRODMORE

 

(With decision.)  I’ll put an end to that! You expect then to pursue your adventures into the night? – to return to Bellborough as you came?

 

CORA

 

(With more confidence.)  Exactly as I came, Papa dear – under the protection of a new friend I’ve just made, a lady whom I met in the train and who is also going back by the 6.15. Like me, she was on her way to this place, and expected to find her here.

 

PRODMORE

 

(Vague.)  What does she want at this place?

 

CORA

 

She wants to see it.

 

PRODMORE

 

(After an instant.)  To-day? To-day won’t do!

 

CORA

 

So I suggested – but she said it would have to do!

 

PRODMORE

 

(Resentful.)  Why in the world—?

 

CORA

 

Because she’s a wild American – she says she is: so I wonder why she hasn’t arrived.

 

PRODMORE

 

I know nothing about her, and I recommend you not to pick up wild Americans, or strange women of any kind, in trains.

 

CORA

 

She’ll turn up, I’m sure, because she was awfully keen. She is a strange woman – but she’s awfully nice. I noticed her yesterday at Bellborough.

 

PRODMORE

 

What was she doing at Bellborough?

 

CORA

 

Staying at the Blue Dragon, to see the old abbey. She says she just loves old abbeys. It seems to be the same feeling that has brought her over to-day to see this old house.

 

PRODMORE

 

She ‘just loves’ old houses? Then why the deuce didn’t she accompany you, properly, to the door?

 

CORA

 

Because she went off in a fly to see, first, the old hospital. She just loves old hospitals. She asked me if this isn’t a show-house. I told her I hadn’t the least idea.

 

PRODMORE

 

It is. You’re an idiot!

 

CORA

 

(With humility.)  She said, herself, that I evidently ain’t a show-girl.

 

PRODMORE

 

I wish to goodness you were! But she sounds distinctly vulgar.

 

CORA

 

Don’t judge her till you see her. She’s tremendously clever – she knows everything about everything.

 

PRODMORE

 

And you know nothing about anything! You’re not tremendously clever – so I demand of you your best attention. – I’m expecting Captain Yule.

 

CORA

 

The owner of this property?

 

PRODMORE

 

He came into it, three months ago, by the death of his great-uncle, who lived to ninety-three, but who having quarrelled mortally with his father, had always refused to receive either of them.

 

CORA

 

But now, at least, doesn’t he live here?

 

PRODMORE

 

So little that he comes to-day for the first time. I’ve some business to discuss with him that can best be discussed on this spot; and it’s a vital part of that business that you too should take pains to make him welcome.

 

CORA

 

(Staring.)  In his own house?

 

PRODMORE

 

It’s not his own house. Practically speaking, it’s my house. It’s mortgaged, as it stands, for every penny of its value – and I happen to hold the mortgages.

 

CORA

 

(Surprised, thinking.)  To the full extent?

 

PRODMORE

 

If I went in at all, it was to come out the other side. It’s on the other side that I find the Captain.

 

CORA

 

(With a vague, faint, nervous laugh.)  Poor Captain! – Well, Papa – don’t be hard with him.

 

PRODMORE

 

What do you call being hard with him?

 

CORA

 

I don’t understand business; but I think I understand you, Papa, enough to gather that you’ve got a fine advantage.

 

PRODMORE

 

Fine if I use it finely. What you would like me to do is to give it up? Thank you, Miss Prodmore. I do mean to use it, and what I have wished to say to you to-day, just where we stand – for it’s here we do stand, and very fast, thank heaven! – is that I look to you to see me through.

 

CORA

 

Through what, Papa?

 

PRODMORE

 

Through my speculation. I want you to receive an impression, and I want you, even more, to make one.

 

CORA

 

(In dawning consternation.)  On Captain Yule?  (Seeing the whole thing.)  To make him propose?

 

PRODMORE

 

If he does, it will be better for both of you! And he will – for I shall do my part.

 

CORA

 

(Extremely discomposed and alarmed.)  How on earth can I do mine? To begin with, I’ve never seen him.

 

PRODMORE

 

You’ll see him, now,  (Looking at his watch.)  from one moment to the other. He’s young, good-looking, clever; he has one of the best and oldest names in England – a name that, in this part of the country, one can do anything with. I propose to do everything, and it’s accordingly my plan that my daughter shall gracefully bear it.

 

CORA

 

And pray is it also Captain Yule’s plan?

 

PRODMORE

 

(After an instant.)  His plans have not yet matured. But nothing is more natural than that they shall do so on the sunny south wall of Miss Prodmore’s best manner.

 

CORA

 

You speak as if they were little sour plums! You exaggerate, I think, the warmth of Miss Prodmore’s temperament. I’m a remarkably cold nature.

 

PRODMORE

 

Then you’ll be so good as to start a blaze! I’ve spent twenty years in giving you what your poor mother used to call advantages, and they’ve cost me hundreds and hundreds of pounds. It’s time now I should get my money back. I couldn’t help your temper nor your taste, nor even your looks – but I paid it out that you should have, damn you, a good manner. You never show it to me, certainly, but do you mean to tell me that after all – for – a – other persons – you haven’t got one?

 

CORA

 

If you mean by other persons, persons who are nice to me – well, Captain Yule may not be so, and may not think so.

 

PRODMORE

 

If you’ll be nice to Captain Yule, Captain Yule will be incapable of gross perversity!

 

CORA

 

I remember your saying once – some time ago – that that was just what he had been guilty of in going in for his dreadful ideas—

 

PRODMORE

 

(Taking her up.)  About the ‘radical programme’, the ‘social revolution’, the spoliation of the rich? I shall forgive him the aberration if he renounces it for you.

 

CORA

 

(More and more adverse.)  He mustn’t renounce it! He shan’t!

 

PRODMORE

 

You mean that you’ll take him as he is?

 

CORA

 

(Determined.)  I won’t take him at all!  (Then, agitated, as the sound of wheels is heard on the gravel.)  A fly – here he is! Surely you don’t want me to pounce on him thus!

 

PRODMORE

 

(Interrogative, eyeing her up and down.)  Your frock won’t do – with what it cost me?

 

CORA

 

It’s not my ‘frock’ – it’s his thinking I’ve come here for him to see me.

 

PRODMORE

 

He doesn’t think it, and he shan’t know it.

 

CORA

 

But he knows that you want me to catch him!

 

PRODMORE

 

(As if with offended delicacy.)  The way to ‘catch’ him will be not to be vulgar. He doesn’t know that you know anything.  (As the house-bell rings.)  Await us in the drawing-room – and mind you toe the mark!

 

(Re-enter, to answer the bell, CHIVERS, from the drawing-room, the door of which he leaves open.)

 

CORA

 

(Really anxious, pleading, passionate.)  Don’t kill me, father – give me time!  (Exit to the drawing-room, closing the door with a bang.)

 

PRODMORE

 

(Alone; CHIVERS having passed, before CORA’S last speech, into the vestibule.)  If she could only look with such eyes at him!  (Then, with florid cordiality, as he sees CAPTAIN YULE, who enters from the vestibule accompanied by CHIVERS.)  Delighted at last to see you here!

 

YULE

 

If I’ve not come before, Mr Prodmore, it was – very frankly speaking – from the dread of seeing you!

 

PRODMORE

 

But surely my presence is not without a motive—!

 

YULE

 

It’s just the motive that makes me wince at it! Certainly I’ve no illusions about the ground of our meeting. Your high financial genius has placed me at your mercy, and you hold me in the hollow of your hand.

 

PRODMORE

 

(Smiling fatuously.)  Well, I won’t, on my side, deny that when I went in so deep, I knew pretty well what I was about!

 

YULE

 

So well that, if I’ve understood you, you can do quite as you like with this preposterous place. Haven’t you brought me down to see you do it?

 

PRODMORE

 

I’ve certainly brought you down to open your eyes!  (Then, after a moment.)  Of course you can clear the property – you can pay off the mortgages.

 

YULE

 

(Blank.)  Pay them off? What can I pay them off with?

 

PRODMORE

 

You can always raise money.

 

YULE

 

What can I raise it on?

 

PRODMORE

 

(Laughing.)  On your great political future.

 

YULE

 

I’ve not taken the lucrative line, and I know what you think of that.

 

PRODMORE

 

I think you keep, in public, very dangerous company; but I hold that you’re extravagant only because you’ve nothing at stake. A man has the right opinions as soon as he has something to lose by having the wrong ones. Haven’t I already hinted to you how to straighten yours out? You’re a firebrand because you’re a bachelor. Marry a nice little heiress!

 

YULE

 

(Smiling ironically, but as if thinking.)  Of course I could do that in a moment!

 

PRODMORE

 

That’s exactly my danger – that any woman would jump at you.

 

YULE

 

My danger, Mr Prodmore, is as great, though of a different sort. I’ve yet to see the woman I’d ‘jump’ at!

 

PRODMORE

 

Well, you know, I haven’t asked you to risk your neck – I’ve only asked you to consider.

 

YULE

 

I’ve complied with your request, and one of the strange results is that my eyes have got accustomed to my darkness. I seem to make out in the depressing gloom that at the worst I can let the whole thing go.

 

PRODMORE

 

(Anxious.)  Throw up the property?

 

YULE

 

Isn’t it the property that throws me up? If I can afford neither to redeem it nor to live on it, I can at least let it save its own bacon and pay its own debts. I can say to you: “Take it and be hanged to you!”

 

PRODMORE

 

(Apprehensive, conciliatory.)  You wouldn’t be so shockingly rude!

 

YULE

 

Why not, if I’m a firebrand? Sacrifice for sacrifice, that might very well be the least!

 

PRODMORE

 

How do you know, if you haven’t compared them? It’s just to do that that you’re here to-day. Now that you stretch yourself – for an hour’s relaxation – in the cradle of your race, can you seriously entertain the idea of parting with such a venerable family relic?

 

YULE

 

(Looking round the depressed old hall with a sad and sceptical eye.)  The cradle of my race looks to me much more like its tomb! Melancholy – musty – mouldy! Is this its character throughout?

 

PRODMORE

 

You must judge for yourself – you must go over the house. It looks a bit run down, but I’ll tell you what I’ll do – I’ll do it up for you – neatly: I’ll throw that in!

 

YULE

 

(With a sarcastic, melancholy smile.)  Will you put in the electric light?

 

PRODMORE

 

(Taking it seriously.)  Well – if you’ll meet me half way! – We’re dealing, here, with fancy-values. Don’t you feel a kind of thrill, as you take it all in?

 

YULE

 

Call it a kind of shudder, as at something queer and cold, and almost cruel: all the old mortality with which the place is saturated – the old presences – the old absences – the old voices – the old ghosts!

 

PRODMORE

 

The old ghosts, Captain Yule, are worth so much a dozen! But look about you a little more.  (Encouragingly, patronizingly.)  Make yourself at home.

 

YULE

 

Thank you very much, Mr Prodmore. May I light a cigarette?

 

PRODMORE

 

In your own house, Captain?

 

YULE

 

That’s just the question – it seems less my own than before this grim vision of it!  (Then, as he lights and begins to smoke a cigarette, offering one also to PRODMORE, which PRODMORE takes.)  As I understand you, you lump your two conditions? I mean I must accept both or neither?

 

PRODMORE

 

You will accept both, for you’ll clear the property at a stroke. The way I put it is that if you’ll stand for Gossage you’ll get returned for Gossage.

 

YULE

 

(Completing.)  And if I get returned for Gossage I shall marry your daughter. Then if I marry your daughter—

 

PRODMORE

 

(Completing.)  I’ll put those vile obligations, before your eyes, into the fire; there won’t be a penny to pay; and you’ll live here in honour and length of days!

 

YULE

 

Are you very sure of the ‘honour’, if I turn my political coat?

 

PRODMORE

 

You’ll only be turning it back again – the way it was always worn. Gossage will receive you with open arm and press you to a heaving Tory bosom. That bosom has never heaved but to sound Conservative principles. The cradle – or a least the coverlet – of your race, Gossage was the political property, so to speak, of generations of your family. Stand in good old interest, and you’ll stand like a lion.

 

YULE

 

I’m afraid you mean that I must first roar like one!

 

PRODMORE

 

I’ll do the roaring – leave that to me.

 

YULE

 

Then why the deuce don’t you stand yourself?

 

PRODMORE

 

Because I’m not a handsome young man with the old home and the right name. If I haven’t these advantages, my idea has been precisely that my daughter shall have them.

 

YULE

 

I confess you have not yet made me understand the attraction you discover in so large a pecuniary sacrifice.

 

PRODMORE

 

My sacrifices are my own affair, and as I never – on principle – give anything for nothing, I daresay I’ve, myself, another name for ’em. You come high – yes; but I intend you shall be the comfort of my life!

 

YULE

 

(After an instant.)  May I inquire if Miss Prodmore’s ideas of comfort are as modest as her father’s? Is she a responsible party to this ingenious arrangement?

 

PRODMORE

 

Miss Prodmore, Captain Yule, is a sheet of blank paper! No image of any tie but the pure and perfect filial has yet, I can answer for it, formed itself on the fair expanse. But for that image to be projected—

 

YULE

 

(Laughing, embarrassed, incredulous.)  I’ve only to appear—

 

PRODMORE

 

And, naturally, to be kind to her. Do you remember what you said when I first laid this question before you in London?

 

YULE

 

I think I said it struck me I should first take a look at the corpus delicti.

 

PRODMORE

 

You should first see, in person, what you had really come into. I was not only eager for that, but I’m willing to go further; I’m quite ready to hear you say that think you should also first see the young lady!

 

YULE

 

(Laughing.)  There is something in that, then – since you mention it!

 

PRODMORE

 

I think you’ll find that there’s everything  (Looking at his watch.)  Which will you take first?

 

YULE

 

(Vague.)  First?

 

PRODMORE

 

The young lady or the house?

 

YULE

 

(Much taken aback.)  Do you mean your daughter’s here?

 

PRODMORE

 

(Indicating.)  In the drawing-room.

 

YULE

 

(Apprehensive.)  Waiting for me?

 

PRODMORE

 

(Reassuring.)  As long as you like!

 

YULE

 

(As if fearing CORA may burst in upon him.)  Ah, a few moments, I beg you! – Do you mean she knows—?

 

PRODMORE

 

That she’s here on view?  (After a moment.)  She knows nothing whatever. She’s as unconscious as the rose on its stem!

 

YULE

 

(Relieved.)  That’s right – let her remain so!  (Drawing a long breath.)  I’ll first take the house.

 

PRODMORE

 

Shall I go round with you?

 

YULE

 

I think, under the circumstances, I would rather go round alone.

 

(Re-enter CHIVERS from the drawing-room.)

 

CHIVERS

 

(Timorously, tentatively, to YULE.)  There’s tea on, sir!

 

PRODMORE

 

(To YULE.)  Then I’ll join my daughter.  (At the drawing-room door; expressively.)  The rose on its stem!  (Exit MR PRODMORE.)

 

YULE

 

(To CHIVERS, musingly, abruptly.)  I say, what colour is the rose?

 

CHIVERS

 

(At first bewildered, then catching on.)  A very brilliant red.  (Nodding out of the open door to the garden.)  It’s the only one left – on the old east wall.

 

YULE

 

(After a laugh.)  My dear fellow, I’m alluding to the young lady in the drawing-room. Is she pretty?

 

CHIVERS

 

(Embarrassed.)  Laws, sir – it’s a matter of taste. I fancy ’em myself more merry-like.

 

YULE

 

(Struck, wondering.)  She isn’t merry-like, poor Miss Prodmore? Well, neither am I! But it doesn’t signify. What are you?

 

CHIVERS

 

Well, sir, I’m not that. Whatever has there been to make me, sir?

 

YULE

 

How in the world do I know? I mean, to whom do you belong?

 

CHIVERS

 

If you could only tell me, sir! I do seem to waste away – for someone to take orders of!

 

YULE

 

(Amused.)  Who pays your wages?

 

CHIVERS

 

No one at all, sir.

 

YULE

 

(Producing a coin.)  Then there’s a sovereign. (As CHIVERS accepts it with undisguised satisfaction.)  I haven’t many.

 

CHIVERS

 

(With sudden, tender compunction.)  Ah then, let it stay in the family!

 

YULE

 

(Struck; very kindly.)  I think it does, old boy.

 

CHIVERS

 

(Much gratified.)  I’ve served your house, sir.

 

YULE

 

How long?

 

CHIVERS

 

All my life.

 

YULE

 

Then I won’t give you up.

 

CHIVERS

 

Indeed sir, I hope you won’t give up anything.

 

YULE

 

It remains to be seen!  (Looking round him.)  Is that the garden?

 

CHIVERS

 

(Sadly.)  It was! Shall I show you how it used to be?

 

YULE

 

It’s just as it is, alas, that I require it!  (At the garden-door.)  Don’t come – I want to think!  (Exit CAPTAIN YULE.)

 

CHIVERS

 

(Alone, vague.)  What does he want to think about?  (Then as he hears MRS GRACEDEW’S voice calling from the gallery above, with great animation: “Housekeeper – Butler – Old family servant!”)  Oh, I should have told him of her!

 

(Enter MRS GRACEDEW at the top of the stairs)

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(As she comes down.)  Did you think I had got snapped down in an old box, like that girl – what’s her name? the one that was poking round too – in the poem? My dear man, why didn’t you tell me.

 

CHIVERS

 

(Vague.)  Tell you, mum?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Why that you’re so perfectly – perfect! You’re beyond my wildest dreams! You’re beyond my wildest dreams! You’re everything in the world you ought to be, and not the shade of a shade of anything you oughtn’t!

 

CHIVERS

 

(Bewildered.)  Me, mum?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Yes, you too, you old picture! The house is a vision of beauty, and you’re worthy of the house. I can’t say more for you.

 

CHIVERS

 

(Fluttered, pleased.)  I think, mum, you say too much!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

So everyone always thinks; but I haven’t come here to suffer in silence – to suffer, I mean, from envy and despair! You’re so deadly complete, you know – every fascinating feature that I had already heard of, and ever so many others that I hadn’t!

 

CHIVERS

 

I saw as soon as you arrived, mum, that you had heard of a good few more than I ever did!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

I had got you by heart – from books, from photos; I had you in my pocket when I came: so when you were so good as to let me loose up there I knew my way right through. It’s all there, every inch of it, and now at last I can do what I want.

 

CHIVERS

 

(Wondering.)  And pray, mum, what might that be.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Why, to take you right back with me – to Missourah Top.

 

CHIVERS

 

(Freshly bewildered.)  Do I understand you, mum, that you require to take me?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Staring a moment, the breaking out into glee.)  Do you mean to say you’d come? As the Old Family Servant? Then do, you nice, real thing: it’s just what I’m dying for – an Old Family Servant! You’re somebody else’s, yes – but everything, over here, is somebody else’s, and I want a second-hand one, all ready-made. You’re the best I’ve seen yet. I wish I could have you packed – put up in paper and bran, as I shall have my old pot there: don’t let me forget my crockery!  (As CHIVERS goes and takes up the pot which has been stood aside, on a table.)  It’s rare old Chelsea.

 

CHIVERS

 

(With the pot, looking at it and thinking.)  Where is it I’ve known it this many a year – though not, to say, by name?  (Then as it comes to him.)  In the sexton’s front parlour!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

No, in his best bedroom – on his chest of drawers. I’ve got the drawers too, and his brass fender, and the chair his grandmother died in. Not in the fly – they’re to follow.

 

CHIVERS

 

(Handling the pot with agitated zeal.)  You did right to take this out when it went to the stables, Them flymen – they do be rough, with anything that’s delicate.  (Going to put down the pot again, he makes, in his nervousness, a false movement and lets it fall to the ground, where it breaks to pieces; whereupon, overwhelmed with consternation, he collapses into the nearest chair.)  Mercy on us, mum, I’ve brought shame on my old grey hairs!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Who has smothered a shriek of dismay; after she has looked at him an instant.)  Oh, but the way you take it! – you’re too quaint to live! The way you said that, now – it’s the very type! That’s all I want of you – just to be the very type. It’s what you are, you know, poor thing – you can’t help it, and it’s what everything and everyone else is, over here. There was a type in the train which me – the ‘awfully nice girl’ of all the novels, the ‘simple maiden in her flower’: she couldn’t help it, either!  (Then suddenly remembering.)  By the way, she was coming here – has she come?

 

CHIVERS

 

Miss Prodmore is here, mum – she’s having her tea.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Eagerly.)  Yes, that’s exactly it – they’re always having their tea!

 

CHIVERS

 

With Mr Prodmore – in the drawing-room. Captain Yule’s in the garden.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Vague.)  Captain Yule?

 

CHIVERS

 

The new master – he has also just arrived.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(After an instant.)  She didn’t tell me about him.

 

CHIVERS

 

It’s such a cur’ous thing to tell, mum. He had never seen the place.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Vague.)  Before to-day? – his very own? – Well, I hope he likes it!

 

CHIVERS

 

I haven’t seen many, mum, that like it as much as you!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

I should like it still better if it were my very own!

 

CHIVERS

 

Well, mum, with all respect, I wish indeed it were! But the Captain, mum, is the lawful heir.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

That’s another of your dear old things – I adore your lawful heirs! He has come to take possession?

 

CHIVERS

 

He’s a-taking of it now.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Struck, immensely interested.)  What does he do – how does he do it? Can’t I see?  (Then, disappointedly, as CHIVERS looks blank.)  There ain’t any fuss about it?

 

CHIVERS

 

I scarce think him the gentlemen to make any about anything!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Resignedly, smiling, thinking.)  Well, I like them, too, when they don’t!  (Looking round her, with a wistful, leave-taking, appreciative sigh.)  I also have taken possession!

 

CHIVERS

 

(Smiling.)  It was you, mum, did it first!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Ah, but for a poor little hour! He’s for life!

 

CHIVERS

 

For mine, mum, I do hope.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

I shall think of you together here.  (After an instant, as if reluctant to recognise that she must presently be going.)  Will he be kind to you?

 

CHIVERS

 

(Simply.)  He has already been, mum.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Then be sure to be so to him.  (Startled, as the house-bell sounds out.)  Is that his bell?

 

CHIVERS

 

(Alert.)  I must see whose!  (Exit to the vestibule.)

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Alone, looking round her again, wandering about the room and detaching from the wall a small framed plaque of enamel, which she examines lovingly.)  Why it’s Limoges! – I wish awfully I were a bad woman – then, I hope, I’d just take it!  (Re-enter CAPTAIN YULE from the garden; on which she immediately greets him, keeping the object familiarly in her hand.)  Oh, Captain Yule, I’m delighted to meet you. It’s such a comfort to ask you if I may!

 

YULE

 

(Staring, mystified, charmed.)  If you may, Madam—?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Why, just be here, and poke round. Don’t tell me I can’t now – because I already have: I’ve been upstairs, and downstairs, and in my lady’s chamber! I got round your lovely servant; – If you don’t look out, I’ll grab him! If you don’t look out I’ll grab everything! That’s what I came over for – just to lay your country waste. Your house is just an old dream – and you’ve got some good things. Oh yes, you have – several: don’t coyly pretend you haven’t! Don’t you know it?  (Handing him her enamel.)  Just look at that!  (Then as he holds the plaque, bewildered, blank, looking only at herself.)  Don’t you know anything? It’s Limoges!

 

YULE

 

(Amused, interested.)  I don’t know my house – I’ve never seen it!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Eagerly seizing his arm.)  Then do let me show it to you!

 

YULE

 

I shall be delighted.  (Then as he sees CHIVERS: re-enter CHIVERS from the vestibule.)  Who’s there?

 

CHIVERS

 

(Excited.)  A party!

 

YULE

 

(Vague.)  A party?

 

CHIVERS

 

Over from Gossage – to see the house.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(With redoubled eagerness.)  Yes, let me show it!  (Then with a second thought, to CHIVERS.)  Oh, I forgot – you get the tips! But, you dear old creature, I’ll get them too – and I’ll give them to you!  (After an instant, looking from CHIVERS back to YULE.)  Perhaps they’ll be bigger – for me!

 

YULE

 

(Laughing.)  I should think they’d be enormous, for you! But I should like to go over with you alone.

 

CHIVERS

 

(To YULE.)  Shall I show them in?

 

YULE

 

By all means – if there’s money in it!

 

(Exit CHIVERS to the vestibule.)

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Oh, and I promised to show it to Miss Prodmore – do call her too.

 

YULE

 

(Taken aback.)  ‘Call’ her? Dear lady, I don’t know her!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

You must – she’s charming.  (Re-enter CORA PRODMORE from the drawing-room; on which MRS GRACEDEW goes on, indicating her.)  Just see if she ain’t! Miss Prodmore, let me present Captain Yule. Captain Yule, Miss Prodmore. Miss Prodmore, Captain Yule.

 

(Re-enter, while YULE responds stiffly and coldly and CORA agitatedly to this introduction, MR PRODMORE from the drawing-room.)

 

CORA

 

(Promptly, eagerly, on seeing her father.)  Papa, let me ‘present’ you to Mrs Gracedew. Mrs Gracedew, Mr Prodmore. Mr Prodmore, Mrs Gracedew.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(With a little bow, all cordiality, to MR PRODMORE.)  Mr. Prodmore. So happy to meet your daughter’s father. Your daughter’s such a lovely girl!

 

PRODMORE

 

(Responding heartily and hurling the words at YULE.)  Ah yes, such a lovely girl!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Smiling benevolently at CORA.)  So fresh and natural and unexpected!

 

PRODMORE

 

(In the same way as before, to YULE.)  Most fresh – most natural – MOST unexpected!

 

(Re-enter, during the presentations, CHIVERS, from the vestibule, accompanied by four or five tourists, simple, awestruck, provincial folk.)

 

CHIVERS

 

(As with the habit of years, immediately beginning.)  This, ladies and gentlemen, is the most striking feature of the ’ouse – the old ’istorical, feudal ’all. Bein’, from all accounts, the most ancient portion of the edifice, it was erected in the earliest ages. Some say in the fifteenth century.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Who has followed with active attention; irrepressibly.)  I say in the fourteenth – you’re robbing us of a hundred years!

 

CHIVERS

 

(Confessing his aberration; abashed.)  I do seem to go astray in them centuries! The Gothic roof is much admired – the west gallery a modern addition.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(In the eagerness of her interest; laughing.)  What on earth do you call modern? It existed at the time of the visit of James the First, in 1611, and is supposed to have served, in the charming detail of its ornament, as a model for several that were constructed in his reign. The great fireplace is Jacobean.

 

CHIVERS

 

The tapestry on the left is Flemish – the elegant woodwork Italian.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Excuse me if I take you up. The elegant woodwork is Flemish – the tapestry on the left Italian.  (Smiling, pleading, to CHIVERS.)  Do you really mind if I just do it? Oh, I know how – like the housekeeper, last week, at Castle Gaunt. (To the party, comprehensively, sociably.)  How do ye do? ain’t it thrilling?  (Then as she laughingly does the housekeeper.)  Keep well together, please – we’re not doing puss in the corner! I have my duty to all parties – I can’t be partial to one!  (To an individual who appears to have asked a question.)  How many parties? The party up and the party down.  (Pointing to an escutcheon in a stained-glass window.)  Observe the family arms.  (Then to an old full-length portrait, a long-limbed gentleman in white trunk-hose, relieved against a black background.)  And observe the family legs! Observe the suit of armour worn at Tewkesbury – observe the tattered banner carried at Blenheim.  (Then on a graver note, but still with brightness, looking round at them all, in their circle, and taking in particularly CAPTAIN YULE, down at right or at left.)  Observe, above all, that you’re in one of the most interesting old houses, of its type, in England; for which the ages have been tender and the generations wise; letting it change so slowly that there’s always more left than taken – living their lives in it, but letting it shape their lives!

 

PRODMORE

 

(In high elation.)  A most striking tribute to Summersoft! – You do, Madam, bring it out!

 

A VISITOR

 

(To another.)  Doesn’t she, Jane, bring it out.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Staring, laughing.)  But who in the world wants to keep it in? It ain’t a secret – or a mean government!  (With a free indication of the fine arch, the noble spring, of the roof.)  Just look at those lovely lines! (The visitors nudge each other, exclaiming, under their breath, “Look – look!” and all heads, save YULE’S, are jerked up, everyone staring at the roof and much impressed. Then pointing successively to the high ancient window and the other objects, to which all turn.)  Just look at the tone of that glass – and the cutting of that oak – and the dear old flags of the very floor. To look, in this place, is to love!

 

A VISITOR

 

(Sniggling.)  Laws – to love!

 

ANOTHER

 

It depends on who you look at!

 

PRODMORE

 

(Exhilarated, arch.)  Do you hear that, Captain? You must look at the right person!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Who has been watching YULE during this last moment.)  I don’t think Captain Yule cares. He doesn’t do justice—!

 

YULE

 

(After an instant during which he gives her back a long look.)  To what, Madam?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

To the value of your house.

 

YULE

 

I like to hear you express it!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

I can’t express it.  (After an instant, as if she has tried.)  It’s too inexpressible!

 

PRODMORE

 

(Encouraging.)  Have a little try, Madam – it would bring it quite ’ome to us.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Well – the value’s a fancy-value!

 

PRODMORE

 

(Triumphant, to YULE.)  Exactly what I told you!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

When a thing’s unique, it’s unique!

 

PRODMORE

 

It’s unique!

 

A VISITOR

 

(Very assentingly.)  It’s unique!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

It’s worth anything you like.

 

PRODMORE

 

Anything you like!

 

A VISITOR

 

(With increasing boldness.)  Twenty thousand, now?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

I wouldn’t look at twenty thousand!

 

PRODMORE

 

(Eagerly, to YULE.)  She wouldn’t look at twenty thousand!

 

THE VISITOR

 

(Sociable.)  Thirty, then, as it stands?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Looking round her, hesitating.)  It would be giving it away!

 

PRODMORE

 

(To YULE.)  It would be giving it away!

 

ANOTHER VISITOR

 

You’d hold out for forty, eh?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(After another consideration, fixing her eyes, with a smile, on YULE.)  Fifty, Captain Yule, is what I think should offer!

 

A VISITOR

 

(In admiration.)  Fifty thousand pound!

 

ANOTHER

 

(In stupefaction, simultaneously.)  Fifty thousand pound!

 

PRODMORE

 

(Victoriously to YULE.)  Fifty thousand pound!  (Then with gaiety and decision to MRS GRACEDEW.)  He’ll never part with his ancestral ’ome!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(With equal gaiety.)  Then I’ll go over it again while I’ve a chance!  (To the party, doing again the housekeeper.)  We now pass to the grand staircase!

 

YULE

 

(Who has assisted at this scene without moving, very attentive, but inexpressive and impenetrable; abruptly addressing MRS GRACEDEW.)  Please let them pass without you!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Surprised, staring.)  And stay here with you?

 

YULE

 

If you’ll be so good. I want to speak to you. (With perceptible impatience, to CHIVERS, hurrying the others off.)  I say – take them!

 

CHIVERS

 

(With instant obsequiosity, to the party.)  We now pass to the grand staircase.  (Exeunt the visitors to the staircase, marshalled and conducted by CHIVERS.)

 

CORA

 

(Breaking out, uneasily.)  Mrs Gracedew – may I speak to you?

 

PRODMORE

 

(Interposing sharply.)  After Captain Yule, my dear. You must also see the house.  (He pushes her off peremptorily – while YULE moves nervously away, with his back turned – in the wake of the party. Then he exclaims, quickly and privately, to MRS GRACEDEW.)  Pile it on! (Exit, by the staircase, rapidly, with CORA, whom, though she visibly wishes to communicate again with MRS GRACEDEW, who gaily and unsuspiciously kisses her hand to her, he hurries off.)

 

YULE

 

(After an instant of embarrassed silence, when he is left alone with MRS GRACEDEW.)  How do you come to know so much about my house?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Laughing.)  How do you come to know so little?

 

YULE

 

(After an instant.)  A combination of misfortunes has forbidden me, till this hour, to enter it.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(With the friendliest compassion.)  Why, you poor thing – now that you’ve got here I hope you’ll stay! Do make yourself comfortable – don’t mind me!

 

YULE

 

That’s exactly what I wanted to say to you!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Well, I haven’t minded you much, have I?

 

YULE

 

Oh, it’s you who seem in complete possession, and I the vague outsider.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Then you must let me put you up!

 

YULE

 

(After an instant, smiling; more and more charmed.)  Up to what?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Up to everything! – You were smoking when you came in.  (Looking about her.)  Where’s your cigarette?

 

YULE

 

(Producing a fresh cigarette.)  I thought perhaps I mightn’t – here.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

You may everywhere.

 

YULE

 

(With docility, receiving instruction.)  Everywhere.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Laughing at the way he says it.)  A rule of the house!

 

YULE

 

(Looking round him, pleased.)  What delightful rules!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

How could such a house have any others?  (After an instant, full of her happy sense of the place.)  I may go up again, mayn’t I? to the Long Gallery?

 

YULE

 

(Vague.)  The Long Gallery?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

I forgot you’ve never seen it! It’s a glory! (Thinking but of seeing it again and showing it.)  Come right up!

 

YULE

 

(Smoking, without moving.)  There’s a party up.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Laughing, remembering.)  So you must be the ‘party down’? Well, you must give me a chance – that Long Gallery’s the principal thing I came over for.

 

YULE

 

(After smoking a moment and staring at her in candid mystification.)  Where, in heaven’s name, did you come over from?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Missourah Top, where I’m building – just in this style. I came for my plans – I felt I must look at you.

 

YULE

 

(Amazed.)  But what did you know about us?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Everything!

 

YULE

 

(Incredulous.)  At Missourah Top?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Why not? It’s a growing place – thirty thousand the last census. My husband left it to me.

 

YULE

 

(After an hesitation.)  You’re a widow?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(With quiet assent.)  A very lone woman.  (With a sad smile.)  My loneliness is great enough to require a great receptacle – and my taste is good enough to require a beautiful one. You see, I had your picture.

 

YULE

 

(Bewildered.)  Mine?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Smiling.)  A watercolour I chanced on –  (nodding in the direction)  of that divine south front. So I got you up – in the books.

 

YULE

 

(Surprised, artlessly.)  Are we in the books?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Equally surprised.)  Did you never discover it?  (After an instant.)  Where, in heaven’s name, Captain Yule, have you come over from?

 

YULE

 

The East End of London.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

What were you doing there?

 

YULE

 

Working. When I left the army – it was too slow – I began to see that, for a fighting man—

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

There’s always somebody to fight?

 

YULE

 

The enemy – in all his power. Misery and ignorance and vice – injustice and privilege and wrong! Such as you see me—

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

You’re a rabid reformer? I wish we had you at Missourah Top!

 

YULE

 

(Smiling.)  I fear my work is nearer home. I hope – as a representative of the people – to achieve a part of it in the next House of Commons. My electors have wanted me—

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

And you’ve wanted them – and that has been why you couldn’t come.

 

YULE

 

From my childhood up, there was another reason.  (Smiling.)  A family feud!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Delighted.)  Oh, I’m so glad – I hoped I’d strike a ‘feud’! That rounds it off, and spices it up, and, for the heartbreak with which I take leave of you, just neatly completes the fracture!  (As if the time for her departure is already there – looking round her for some personal belonging she has laid down.)  Must I really wait – to go up?

 

YULE

 

(After an instant.)  Only till you tell me this: if you literally meant – a while ago – that this place is so wonderful.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(As if in astonishment, almost in compassion, at his density.)  Do you literally require me to say it? Can you stand there and not feel it?  (Looking round her again; then with a fresh rush of her impression.)  It’s a place to Love—

 

YULE

 

(As she hesitates an instant.)  To Love?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Well, as you’d love a person!  (With abrupt decision, going up.)  Good-bye!

 

YULE

 

(As she reaches the foot of the stairs.)  I think I feel it – but it’s largely you who make me. The greater the pity – that I shall have to give it up!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Turning, with a sudden stop and stare.)  Give it up? Why in the world—?

 

YULE

 

Because I can’t afford to keep it.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Coming down again, promptly; thinking.)  Can’t you let it?

 

YULE

 

(Smiling.)  Let it to you?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(With a laugh.)  I’d take it in a minute!

 

YULE

 

I shouldn’t have the face to charge you a rent that would make it worth one’s while, and I think even you, dear lady, wouldn’t have the face to offer me one. My lovely inheritance is Dead Sea fruit. It’s mortgaged for all it’s worth, and I haven’t the means to pay the interest. If by a miracle I could scrape the money together, I shouldn’t have a penny left to live on. So I see it at last  (Looking round the place.)  – only to lose it!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Immensely disconcerted.)  I never heard of anything so dreadful! Surely there’s a way of arranging.

 

YULE

 

Yes – a way of arranging has been proposed to me.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

For heaven’s sake, then, accept it!

 

YULE

 

I’ve made up my mind in the last quarter of an hour that I can’t. It’s too peculiar.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

What’s the peculiarity?

 

YULE

 

A change in my essential attitude. The mortgages have all found their way, like a flock of silly sheep, into the hands of one person – a devouring wolf, a rich, a powerful capitalist. He holds me in this manner at his mercy. He consents to make things comfortable for me, but he requires that, in return, I shall do something very serious for him.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Wondering.)  Something wrong?

 

YULE

 

(Decided.)  Yes – exceedingly so.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(After a moment.)  Anything immoral?

 

YULE

 

Yes, I may literally call it immoral.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(After another hesitation.)  Is it too bad to tell?

 

YULE

 

(Bringing the thing out, leaving her to judge.)  He wants me to change my opinions!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Amazed.)  Your ‘opinions’? Is that all?

 

YULE

 

Surely it’s quite enough – considering how many I have!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Well, I’ve a neat collection too, but I’d change the whole set for –  (Looking about an instant for an equivalent, then pointing to the chimney-piece.)  that set of old fire-irons.

 

YULE

 

(With amused compassion.)  I don’t think you understand me. He wants me to change my politics.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Undaunted.)  I’d change them for the hearth-brush!

 

YULE

 

(Laughing.)  You’ve not issued a scorching address. You’re not a pure, pledged Radical, suddenly invited to present yourself to this neighbouring borough of Gossage as a full-fed Conservative.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Is it Mr Prodmore who invites you?

 

YULE

 

I didn’t mean to mention his name; but since you have done so—!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

It’s he who’s the devouring wolf – it’s he who holds your mortgages?  (Then, after an instant, on YULE’S assent.)  Why doesn’t he stand himself?

 

YULE

 

Well, like other devouring wolves, he isn’t personally adored.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Catching on; seeing clear.)  I see. You would be, you poor lamb, and that’s why he wants you!

 

YULE

 

I’m the bearer of my name, I’m the representative of my family; and to my family – since you’ve led me to it – this countryside has been for generations indulgently attached.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Who has listened with deep interest.)  You do what you will with the countryside?

 

YULE

 

If we do it as genuine Yules. Now your genuine Yule’s a Tory of Tories. It’s Mr Prodmore’s view that I should carry Gossage in that character, but that they wouldn’t look at me in any other.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

And what’s the extraordinary interest that he attaches—?

 

YULE

 

(Taking her up.)  To the return of a Tory? Oh, his desire is born of his fear – his terror on behalf of Property. He has got so much – and he hasn’t got anything else.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Gaily.)  He has got a very nice daughter!

 

YULE

 

(After an instant.)  I really didn’t look at her – and moreover she’s a part of the Property. He thinks things are going too far.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(With abrupt, high decision.)  Well, they are!

 

YULE

 

(Struck, more grave, as if surprised at her tone.)  Aren’t you a lover of justice?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

A passionate one!  (After an instant.)  Where’s the justice in your losing this house? To keep it –  (with renewed decision)  you must carry Gossage!

 

YULE

 

(Aghast.)  As a renegade?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

As a genuine Yule. What business have you to be anything else? You must close with Mr Prodmore – you must stand in the Conservative interest.  (After an instant.)  If you will, I’ll conduct your canvass!

 

YULE

 

(Laughing.)  That puts the temptation high!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Impatient.)  Ah, don’t look at me as if I were the temptation! Look at this sweet old human home, and feel all its gathered memories. Do you want to know what they do to me? – they speak to me for Mr Prodmore!

 

YULE

 

Well, dear lady, there are other things that speak to me – things for which I’ve spoken, repeatedly and loudly, to others. One’s ‘human home’ is all very well, but the rest of one’s humanity is better. – I see – you’re disgusted with me, and I’m sorry; but one must take one’s self as circumstances and experience have made one, and it’s not my fault if they’ve made me a very modern man! I see something else in the world than the beauty of old show-houses and the glory of old show-families. There are thousands of people in England who can show no houses at all, and I don’t feel as if it were utterly shameful to share their poor fate!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

We share the poor fate of humanity whatever we do, and we do something to help and console when we’ve something precious to show. What on earth is more precious than what the ages have slowly wrought? They’ve trusted you to keep it – to do something for them. It’s such a virtue, in anything, to have lasted – it’s such an honour, for anything, to have been spared. To a struggler from the wreck of time – hold out a pitying hand!

 

YULE

 

(Struck by what she says and the way she says it, but turning it off with a laugh.)  What a plea, dear Mrs Gracedew, to come from Missourah Top!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

We’re making a Past at Missourah Top as fast as ever we can – and I should like to see you lay your hand on an hour of the one that we’ve made! It’s a tight fit, as yet – I admit – and that’s just why I like, in yours, to find room to turn round. You’re in it, over here, and you can’t get out; so just make the best of it and treat it as part of the fun!

 

YULE

 

The whole of the fun, to me, is in hearing you defend it! It’s like your defending chronic rheumatism – something that I feel aching in every bone of these walls and groaning in every draught that, I’m sure, blows through them.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

If there are draughts  (looking about her)  – there may be – you’re here to stop them up. And do you know what I’m here for? If I’ve come so far and so straight, I’ve almost wondered myself. I’ve felt with a kind of passion – but now I see why I’ve felt. I’m here for an act of salvation – I’m here to avert a sacrifice!

 

YULE

 

(With great acknowledgment and admiration.)  You’re here, I think, Madam – to be a memory for my future!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

You’ll be one for mine, if I can see you by that hearth. Why do you make such a fuss about changing your politics? If you’d come to Missourah Top you’d change them quick enough! What do politics amount to – compared with religions. Parties and programmes come and go, but a duty like this abides. There’s nothing you can break with that would be like breaking here. The very word’s a violence – a sacrilege: your house is a kind of altar! You must have beauty in your life – that’s the only way to make sure of it for the life of others. Keep leaving it to them, and heaven knows what they’ll do with it! Does it take one of us to feel that? – to preach you the truth? Then it’s good we come over, to see what you’re about! We know what we haven’t got, and if you’ve luckily got it, you’ve got it also for us. You’ve got it in trust, and oh! we have an eye on you. You’ve had it so for me, all these dear days, that, to be grateful, I’ve wanted to do something.  (Pleading.)  Tell me now I shall have done it – I shall have kept you at your post!

 

YULE

 

(Strongly troubled, rendered nervous and uncertain by her appeal; moving restlessly about.)  You have a strange eloquence! Of course I don’t pretend that I don’t care for Summersoft.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

You haven’t even seen it, yet! I think you’re afraid.

 

YULE

 

(After an instant.)  Perhaps I am! But if I am – it isn’t only Summersoft that makes me.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Vague.)  What else is it?

 

YULE

 

It doesn’t matter – you may be right. When we talk of the house, your voice seems somehow its very soul. I like to listen.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(With joyous relief.)  Then I’ve done a good day’s work!

 

YULE

 

Not yet: I must wait – I must think.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

When have you to answer Mr Prodmore?

 

YULE

 

(Thinking, fidgetty.)  He gives me time.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

I wouldn’t! For God’s sake, go upstairs!

 

YULE

 

(Reluctant.)  And meet Mr Prodmore?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Seeing CORA on the stairs.)  He’s coming down.

 

(Re-enter CORA PRODMORE by the staircase.)

 

YULE

 

(After a straight, distracted stare at CORA, hesitating a moment more, then sharply deciding.)  I’ll go up!  (Exit rapidly by the staircase.)

 

CORA

 

(Agitated, eager.)  I’ve come back to you – I’ve wanted so to speak to you!  (With intensity.)  May I confide in you?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Staring, struck, amused.)  You too? It is good we come over!

 

CORA

 

It is indeed! You were so kind to me – and I’m alone with my tremendous news, which met me at the door. (Bringing it out with all the force of her excitement.)  He wants me to marry him!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Not following.)  ‘He’ wants you—?

 

CORA

 

Papa, of course. He has settled it!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Blank; thinking.)  That you’re to marry whom?

 

CORA

 

Why, Captain Yule, who just went out.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Startled, but still vague.)  Has Captain Yule asked you?

 

CORA

 

No – but he will: to keep the house. It’s mortgaged to Papa – he buys it back.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Wonder-struck.)  By ‘marrying’ you?

 

CORA

 

(Lucid.)  Giving me his name and his position. They’re the price – Papa wants them.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Bewildered.)  But his name and his position – are his dreadful politics!

 

CORA

 

You know about his dreadful politics? He’s to change them – to get me! And if he gets me—

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Taking her up with intensity.)  He keeps the house?

 

CORA

 

I go with it – he’s to have us both. But only if he changes. The question is: Will he change?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

I see. Will he change?

 

CORA

 

(Thinking, speculating.)  Has he changed?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(With a note of irritation.)  My dear child – how in the world should I know?

 

CORA

 

He hasn’t seemed to care enough for the house. Does he care?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(After a moment.)  You had better ask him!

 

CORA

 

If he does, he’ll propose.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Seeing YULE on the stairs; after an instant, convinced, struck.)  He’ll propose.

 

(Re-enter CAPTAIN YULE by the staircase.)

 

CORA

 

(Fluttered, alarmed.)  Then I fly!

 

YULE

 

(As CORA has moved to the garden-door.)  I drive Miss Prodmore away.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Very promptly.)  It’s all right!  (To CORA.)  I’ve something to say to Captain Yule.

 

CORA

 

I’ve something more to say to you – before you go.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Come back then – I’m not going!

 

(Exit CORA to the garden. YULE stands there gravely, rigidly, with his eyes fixed to the ground. There is a considerable awkward silence, during which MRS GRACEDEW moves vaguely about the room without looking at him.)

 

YULE

 

(At last.)  It will doubtless give you pleasure to know that I’ve closed with Mr Prodmore.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(After another silence.)  I thought you said he gave you time.

 

YULE

 

(Still very grave.)  You produced just now so deep an effect on me that I thought best not to take any. I came right upon him there – and I burnt my ships!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Without looking at him.)  You do what he requires?

 

YULE

 

I do what he requires. I felt the tremendous force of all you said to me.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(After a moment.)  So did I – or I shouldn’t have said it!

 

YULE

 

You’re perhaps not aware that you wield an influence of which it’s not too much to say that it’s practically irresistible!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Graver even than YULE: thinking; just faintly ironical.)  You’ve given me the most flattering proof of my influence that I’ve ever enjoyed in my life!

 

YULE

 

(As if beginning to be struck by her manner; explanatory, attenuating.)  This was inevitable, dear Madam, from the moment you had promptly converted me into the absolute echo of your raptures.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Vague, as if she has suddenly forgotten them.)  My ‘raptures’?

 

YULE

 

(Surprised.)  Why, about my home.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Recalling; with indefinable dryness.)  Oh yes – your home. It’s a nice tattered, battered old thing. – It has defects, of course; but it’s no use mentioning them now!

 

YULE

 

(Uneasy, sad.)  I’m singularly sorry you didn’t mention them before!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(After a moment.)  If you had gone over the house, as I literally besought you to do, you might have discovered some of them yourself.

 

YULE

 

I was precisely in the very act of it; but the first person I met, above, was Mr Prodmore; when, feeling that I must come to it, sooner or later, I just yielded him his point, on the spot – to have it well over.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Let me then congratulate you on at last knowing what you want!

 

YULE

 

I only know it so far as you know it! – I struck while the iron was hot – or at any rate while the hammer was!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Of course I recognise that it can rarely have been exposed to such a fire. I blazed up, and I know that when I burn—!

 

YULE

 

(As she pauses, thinking.)  When you burn?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

I burn as Chicago burns.

 

YULE

 

Down to the ground?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Throwing up her arms.)  Up to the sky! – I suppose you’ve still formalities to go through.

 

YULE

 

With Mr Prodmore? Oh, endless, tiresome ones, no doubt!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

You mean they’ll take so very long?

 

YULE

 

Every hour, every month, that I can possibly make them last!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(After an instant.)  You mustn’t drag them. out too much – must you? or he’ll think that you perhaps want to retract.

 

YULE

 

(With abrupt expressiveness.)  I shouldn’t be so terribly upset by his mistake if he did!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Oh, it would never do to give him any colour whatever for supposing that you have any doubt that, as one may say, you’ve pledged your honour.

 

YULE

 

Of course not – not when I haven’t any doubt!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

How can you possibly have any, any more than you can possibly have that one’s honour is everything in the world?

 

YULE

 

Oh yes – everything in the world.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

We spoke of honour a while ago – didn’t we? – and of the difficulty of keeping it unspotted; so that there’s no more to be said except that I leave you to that engrossing occupation. I hope you’ll enjoy your cosy little home, and appreciate such a fury of affection.

 

YULE

 

(Wondering, alarmed.)  Do you suppose it will be a ‘fury’?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Representing surprise.)  Why, what do you call the love of twenty thousand?  (Then on his gesture of consternation.)  That’s my rough estimate of the population of Gossage. Such a lovely figure!

 

YULE

 

(Struck, off his guard, confused.)  Who has a lovely figure—?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(With a nervous laugh.)  Gossage! – Good-bye.

 

YULE

 

(More and more disconcerted.)  You don’t mean to say you’re going?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Haven’t I done what I told you I had been mysteriously moved to come for?  (Looking about; addressing herself to the house.)  You’re saved!

 

YULE

 

(Troubled, earnest.)  For God’s sake don’t go till can come back to thank you! I promised to return immediately to Prodmore.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Oh, don’t let me stand in Prodmore’s way – you must have such lots to talk comfortably over!

 

YULE

 

(Agitated.)  I certainly feel that I must see him again. – Yes, decidedly, I must!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(As if this is highly obvious.)  Then go to him!

 

YULE

 

(Pressing.)  Will you wait for me?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Having first hesitated, then looked round her for a chair, into which she drops.)  Go to him.

 

(YULE goes to the staircase and begins slowly to mount it, looking back at her as she sits there by his – as it were – quiet fireside. Half way up he pauses, hesitates, and then comes down a few steps again, as if to approach her once more and break out into something. His doing this startles her, so as to make her turn round, rising again and looking at him. Hereupon he stops a second time and stands there – still on the staircase – exchanging with her a fixed, silent gaze; after which, taking a sharp decision, he starts off and very rapidly ascends the rest of the steps. Exit CAPTAIN YULE. MRS GRACEDEW then comes down.)

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Why didn’t he tell me all?  (After an instant, taking herself up, repudiating the question.)  It was none of my business!  (Wondering again.)  What does he mean to do? – What should he do but what he has done? – and what can he do when he’s so deeply committed, when he’s practically engaged, when he’s just the same as married? – The thing for me to do is just to go: to remove from the scene they encumber the numerous fragments  (seeing CORA reappear and spying, on the table on which he has gathered them together, the pieces of the vase CHIVERS has smashed)  of my old Chelsea pot!

 

(Re-enter CORA from the garden.)

 

CORA

 

Ah, Captain Yule’s gone?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Upstairs again – to rejoin your father.

 

CORA

 

Papa’s not there – he has come down, the other way, to rejoin me.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(After an instant.)  He can do so here – I’m going.

 

CORA

 

(Disconcerted.)  Just when I’ve come back to you  (slightly arch)  – at the risk of again interrupting your conversation with Captain Yule?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

I’ve nothing to say to Captain Yule.

 

CORA

 

You had a good deal to say a few minutes ago!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Well, I’ve said it – and it’s over!  (With great decision.)  I’ve nothing more to say at all!  (Then, as if to change the subject and involuntarily lingering, in spite of her successive announcements of departure.)  What’s become of the ‘party’?

 

CORA

 

Dismissed, through the grounds, by the other door. But they’ve announced the arrival of a fresh lot.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Gaily.)  Well, you must take the fresh lot – since the house is now practically yours!

 

CORA

 

(Blank.)  Mine?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Surprised at her surprise.)  Why, if you’re going to marry Captain Yule.

 

CORA

 

(Very resolute.)  I’m not going to marry Captain Yule!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(In stupefaction.)  Why on earth then did you tell me just now you were?

 

CORA

 

(Extremely astonished that MRS GRACEDEW has believed this.)  I told you nothing of the sort. I only told you he had been ordered me!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Amused, wondering.)  Like a dose of medicine or a course of baths?

 

CORA

 

As a remedy for the single life. But I won’t take him!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Ah then, why didn’t you tell me?

 

CORA

 

I was on the very point of it when he came in and interrupted us. It’s what I came back for.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Relieved, smiling.)  Excuse me – I misunderstood. I somehow took for granted—!

 

CORA

 

You took for granted I’d jump at him? Well, you see I don’t!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

You prefer the single life?

 

CORA

 

No, but I don’t prefer him!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Struck, interested.)  You prefer someone else?  (Then as CORA turns away from her, nervously faltering a moment; gently, encouragingly.)  He seems remarkably nice.

 

CORA

 

(Impatiently.)  Then why don’t you marry him yourself?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Staring; with a laugh.)  Well, I’ve got fifty reasons! I think one of them is that he hasn’t asked me.

 

CORA

 

I haven’t got ‘fifty’ reasons, but I’ve got one!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Struck, then smiling.)  I see. An older friend!

 

CORA

 

(With emotion.)  I’ve been trying, this hour, in my need of advice, to tell you about him! After we parted at the station he suddenly turned up there, and I took a little quiet walk with him which gave you time to get here before me and of which my father is in a state of ignorance that I don’t know whether to call desirable or dreadful.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Who has taken this earnestly in; turning it over.)  You want me then to inform your father?

 

CORA

 

(Embarrassed, distressful.)  I really don’t know what I want! I think I want support.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Thinking, then taking a large resolution.)  Then I’ll support you!

 

CORA

 

(With effusion.)  You dear woman! – He’s intensely sympathetic.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

So are you – and he must have a nice nature, to be conscious of an affinity with you!

 

CORA

 

His affinity is greater than poor Captain Yule’s – I could see at a glance that he had none! Papa has seen him, but we’ve been so sure Papa would hate it that we’ve had to be awfully careful. He’s the son of the richest man at Bellborough, he’s Granny’s godson, and he’ll inherit his father’s business, which is simply immense. He has been away for three days, and if he met me at the station, where, on his way back, he had to change, it was quite by the purest chance. He’s clever, and he’s good – and I know he loves me!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Then what’s the matter with him?

 

CORA

 

(Faltering.)  His name.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

What is it?

 

CORA

 

(Bringing it out.)  Buddle.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Repeating it interrogatively and a trifle dubiously. Then with courageous decision.)  Well – Buddle will do!

 

CORA

 

Then, for heaven’s sake, make my father think so!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(After a moment.)  I’ll make him – if in return you’ll do something for me. Give me a clear assurance.

 

CORA

 

(Vague.)  Of what?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

That if Captain Yule should propose to you, you’d unconditionally refuse him.

 

CORA

 

With my dying breath!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(After an instant.)  Will you make it even a promise?

 

CORA

 

(Emphatically.)  A promise.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(In whose hand CORA has placed her own.)  Then let me kiss you!

 

CORA

 

(After the embrace, at the door of the vestibule.)  We’ll meet at the station.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Vague.)  Where are you going?

 

CORA

 

(Smiling.)  Can’t you guess? (Exit to the vestibule.)

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Alone.)  To Mr Buddle!  (Then, with great decision, as if she herself now knows thoroughly what she’s about.)  Thank goodness for Mr Buddle!

 

(Re-enter MR PRODMORE from the garden.)

 

PRODMORE

 

My daughter’s not here?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Your daughter’s not here. But it’s a convenience to me, Mr Prodmore, that you are, for I’ve something very particular to ask you.

 

PRODMORE

 

(Who has crossed to the drawing-room.)  I shall be delighted to answer your question, but I must first put my hand on Miss Prodmore.  (Then having checked himself at the door.)  Unless indeed she’s occupied in there with Captain Yule.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

I don’t think she’s occupied – anywhere – with Captain Yule.

 

PRODMORE

 

(Uneasy.)  Then where the deuce is Captain Yule?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

His absence, for which I’m responsible, is just what renders the inquiry I spoke of to you possible. – What will you take – for your interest in this property?

 

PRODMORE

 

(Staring, coming down:)  Eh? – You know about my interest?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Everything.

 

PRODMORE

 

Then you must know it has just ceased to exist. I’ve given it up – for an equivalent.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

For a son-in-law?

 

PRODMORE

 

That will presently be Captain Yule’s proper designation.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Then Miss Prodmore has already accepted him?

 

PRODMORE

 

In spite of the doubt which you appear to throw on the idea, it is my intimate conviction that she is accepting him at this moment.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(After a moment; abruptly.)  Dear Mr Prodmore, why are you so imprudent as to make your daughter afraid of you? You should have taught her to confide in you. She has clearly shown me that she can confide.

 

PRODMORE

 

(Blankly anxious.)  She confides in you?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Completely. Let me suggest that as fortune has thrown us together here, for a moment, you follow her good example. – Tell me, for instance, the ground of your objection to poor Mr Buddle. I mean Mr. Buddle of Bellborough, the godson of your daughter’s grandmother and the associate of his father in their flourishing house – to whom (as he is to her) Miss Prodmore is devotedly attached.

 

PRODMORE

 

(Gasping, amazed.)  It has gone as far as that?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

It has gone so far that you had better let it go the rest of the way!

 

PRODMORE

 

(Astounded, indignant.)  It’s too monstrous, to have plotted to keep me in the dark—!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

I’m afraid it’s only when you’re kept in the dark that your daughter’s kept in the light! It’s at her own earnest request that I plead to you for her liberty of choice. She’s an honest girl, and she’s not a baby: she has a perfect right to her preference.



 

PRODMORE

 

And pray haven’t I a perfect right to mine?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Not at her expense. You ask her to give up too much.

 

PRODMORE

 

And what does she ask me to give up? The desire of my heart and the dream of my life! Captain Yule announced to me but a few minutes since his intention to offer her his hand.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

I think Captain Yule will find that his hand will be simply declined.

 

PRODMORE

 

(Resolutely.)  It won’t be declined!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Still more resolutely.)  It will!

 

PRODMORE

 

(Dashing again towards the drawing-room, or better still, to some other door.)  It shan’t!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Springing before him; passionately.)  It shall!  (Then after a moment, while he stands arrested, bewildered.)  Now tell me how much!

 

PRODMORE

 

How can I tell you anything so preposterous?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Simply by computing the total amount to which, for your benefit, this unhappy estate is burdened. – If I’ve troubled you by showing you that your speculation is built on the sand, let me atone for it by my eagerness to take off your hands an investment from which you derive so little profit.

 

PRODMORE

 

(Blank, wondering.)  And pray what profit will you derive—?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

That’s my own secret. I want this house!

 

PRODMORE

 

So do I, damme! – and that’s why I’ve practically paid for it!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Pleadingly.)  I’ll practically pay for it, Mr Prodmore, if you’ll only tell me your figure.

 

PRODMORE

 

(As if struck, dimly, with a new light; thinking.)  My figure?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Your figure.

 

PRODMORE

 

(After an instant, dryly; dismissing the question as if vain.)  My figure would be distinctly high.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Smiling.)  You have all the greater interest in letting me know it. As soon as you’ve done so I cable to Missourah Top to have the money sent right out to you.

 

PRODMORE

 

(Contemptuously amused at her simple notions of business.)  Having the money sent right out to me won’t make you owner of this place.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Thinking, conceding.)  No – not quite. But I’ll settle the rest with Captain Yule.

 

PRODMORE

 

(Self-complacent.)  Captain Yule has nothing to sell.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(After an instant.)  Then what have you been trying to buy?

 

PRODMORE

 

(Starting, staring.)  Do you mean to say you want to buy that?  (Then as she turns away disgusted, protesting, but slightly embarrassed.)  Is your proposal that I should transfer my investment to you for the mere net amount of it your idea of a fair bargain?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Vague.)  Pray, what is yours?

 

PRODMORE

 

Mine would be, not that I should simply get my money back, but that I should get the effective value of the house.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

But isn’t the effective value of the house just what your money expresses?

 

PRODMORE

 

(After an instant; triumphant.)  No, Madam – it’s just what yours does! It’s moreover just what your lips have already expressed so distinctly!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Thinking, recalling.)  To those people – when I said it was charming?

 

PRODMORE

 

(Categorical.)  You said it was ‘unique’. You said it was the perfect specimen of its class in England.  (With gross elation.)  Oh, you got in deep!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Realising, wincing, but smiling bravely.)  All that doesn’t tell me how deep you’re in!

 

PRODMORE

 

For you?  (After a moment.)  I’m in to the tune of fifty thousand!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Disconcerted, staggered; after an instant.)  That’s a great deal of money.

 

PRODMORE

 

(Imperturbable.)  So I’ve often had occasion to say to myself.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

If it’s a large sum for you then, it’s a still larger one for me!  (After an instant, attenuating, debating.)  We women have more modest ideas.

 

PRODMORE

 

Is it by that term you describe your extraordinary intrusion—?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

I mean I think we measure things often – more exactly!

 

PRODMORE

 

Then you measured this thing exactly half an hour ago.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Blank, oblivious.)  I raved about it?

 

PRODMORE

 

You said you’d offer fifty!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Did I say that?  (After an instant.)  It was a figure of speech!

 

PRODMORE

 

(Promptly.)  That’s the kind of figure we’re talking about!  (Then sharply, as he sees CHIVERS: re-enter CHIVERS from the garden.)  Have you seen Miss Prodmore? – If you haven’t, find her!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(To CHIVERS.)  You won’t.  (To PRODMORE.)  I happen to know she’s gone for a walk.

 

PRODMORE

 

(Blank an instant; then reassured and taking it in.)  What I was sure of! With Captain Yule.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(After an instant.)  No – with Mr Buddle.

 

PRODMORE

 

(Confounded.)  Buddle has been here?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

He walked with her from the station.

 

PRODMORE

 

(Stupefied, gasping.)  When she arrived? That’s why she was so late?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Why I got here first.  (Laughing.)  I get everywhere first!

 

PRODMORE

 

(Overwhelmed, but pulling himself together.)  In which direction did they go?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

I think I must let you ascertain for yourself!

 

PRODMORE

 

(Catching up his hat; peremptorily to CHIVERS.)  Call my carriage!  (Exit CHIVERS to the vestibule.)  You’ve protected, then, Madam, this intrigue?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

I think it’s this intrigue, as you call it, that has protected me! Drive after them, overtake them and forgive them. If you’ll do that, I’ll give you your price!

 

PRODMORE

 

(After a concentrated stare into his hat.)  What do you call my price?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Why, the sum you just mentioned – fifty thousand.

 

PRODMORE

 

(Indignantly derisive.)  That’s not my price – and it never was! Besides – my price is up!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(With a wail.)  Up?

 

PRODMORE

 

Seventy thousand.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Overwhelmed, prostrate.)  Oh, deary me!

 

PRODMORE

 

(Stern, curt.)  It’s to take or to leave!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Recovering herself with a strong effort and staying him with a gesture as he reaches the door of the vestibule and as he sees CAPTAIN YULE, who appears at the top of the stairs: re-enter CAPTAIN YULE, with whom, before he has come down, she exchanges the same long look as before his last exit.)  Seventy thousand, then!

 

PRODMORE

 

(Closing.)  Seventy thousand!  (Exit with violence to the vestibule.)

 

YULE

 

(Coming down, wondering.)  He’s gone? I’ve been looking for him!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

I don’t think you need him, now. – You must deal with me. I’ve arranged with him that I take it over.

 

YULE

 

(Blank.)  Take what over?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Smiling.)  Your debt!

 

YULE

 

(Bewildered.)  Can you – without arranging with me?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Radiant.)  That’s precisely what I want to do. Surely you consent.

 

YULE

 

(Thinking.)  If I do, how do I perform my engagement—?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

To him.  (Smiling.)  You don’t perform it!

 

YULE

 

(Excited.)  He lets me off?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

He lets you off.

 

YULE

 

(Enchanted, wondering; then with a disconcerted drop.)  Oh – I lose my house!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Eager.)  Ah no – that doesn’t follow!  (Faltering an instant.)  You arrange with me to keep it.

 

YULE

 

But how do I arrange?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Embarrassed, at a loss, but still plausible, cheering.)  We must think – we must wait – we must find some way!

 

YULE

 

(Quite at sea.)  But what way can we find? – With Prodmore it was simple enough: could marry his daughter.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Quietly but poignantly, ironically smilingly reproachful.)  Could you?

 

YULE

 

(Staring; then after an instant, rapturously.)  Never – when it came to the point! But I had to—

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Taking him up, as he pauses; artless, innocent.)  You had to—?

 

YULE

 

(Ruefully.)  Think a lot about it! – You didn’t suspect it?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(With a nervous laugh, turning away.)  Don’t ask me too many questions!

 

YULE

 

(Suddenly, joyfully divining.)  You guessed it – and, heaven bless you! – you saved me?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

What a pity, now, I haven’t a daughter!

 

YULE

 

(With strong feeling.)  What a much greater pity that I haven’t—

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(As he hesitates.)  That you haven’t—?

 

YULE

 

Something to offer you in compensation.  (Then after an instant, as the light comes to him.)  But I have it, of course: Keep the house—

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Taking him up, shocked.)  All to myself?

 

YULE

 

All to yourself – you like it so much.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

I like it more than ever; but in that case you would lose it.

 

YULE

 

Well, after all, why shouldn’t I? What have I done for it – and what can I do? I’ve done nothing whatever – it’s you who have done all.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

I should have nothing without you – you gave me my head.

 

YULE

 

(Laughing.)  You certainly went off at a pace!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Laughing responsively.)  You mustn’t pull me up too short! If you’re just where you were before, how are you ‘saved’?

 

YULE

 

By my life’s being my own again – to do what I want!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

What you ‘want’ is what made you close with Prodmore. What you ‘want’ is these walls and these acres. What you ‘want’ is to take the way I showed you.

 

YULE

 

(Perplexed, thinking.)  Why, the way you showed me was to marry Cora!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

I didn’t know that then – you didn’t tell me.

 

YULE

 

I felt a delicacy!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Cora didn’t – Cora told me.

 

YULE

 

(Astonished.)  Then she knew—?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

She knew all – and if her father said she didn’t, her father deceived you.  (Then on a movement of continued surprise and indignation on YULE’S part.)  She was quite right – she would have refused you.

 

YULE

 

(Struck, and with a slightly disconcerted note.)  Oh!  (Then, with a smile, after an instant.)  Do you call that ‘quite right’?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Smiling.)  For her – and for Prodmore.

 

YULE

 

(With strong emphasis.)  For Prodmore – with all my heart!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

To stay at your post – that was the way I showed you.

 

YULE

 

(Puzzled, bewildered; then expressing, gently, remonstrantly, almost ironically, with a smile, his sense of the hopelessness of the problem.)  How can I take it, dear lady – if, you see, you only block it?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(After an instant; very grave and gentle.)  I won’t block it a moment more.  (Finally, decisively ready to go.)  I make perfect room for you.

 

YULE

 

(Blank.)  You surrender your rights?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Weren’t you ready to surrender yours?

 

YULE

 

I hadn’t any – I hadn’t paid for them.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Your ancestors had – it’s the same thing. You’re just in a manner my tenant.

 

YULE

 

(Less and less satisfied.)  But on what terms?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

On any terms – the easiest!  (With her belongings all gathered.)  You can write to me about them.

 

YULE

 

(Vague.)  To Missourah Top?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

I go right back. – Good-bye.

 

YULE

 

(Starting as if the word is a sudden knell to him, rapidly getting between her and the door; then almost commandingly.)  A moment, please. – If you won’t tell me your own terms, you must at least tell me Prodmore’s.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Disconcerted, embarrassed.)  Prodmore’s?

 

YULE

 

How you did it – how you managed him. (Waiting; in suspense.)  You bought him out?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(After an instant, as if she can, with decent plausibility, give no other account of it.)  I bought him out.

 

YULE

 

For how much?  (As she doesn’t answer.)  I must know.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

You shall never know.

 

YULE

 

(Resolute.)  I’ll get it from him.

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Smiling sadly.)  Get it if you can!

 

YULE

 

(Much moved, overwhelmed.)  He won’t say – because he did you?  (With deep resentment.)  The scoundrel!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Impatient, enthusiastic.)  Why, he’s lovely!  (Then, in her turn, almost commandingly.)  Let me go!

 

YULE

 

(Excited, inflamed, still barring her way.)  With the barren beauty of your sacrifice? You pour out money, you move a mountain, and to let you ‘go’ – to turn you out – is all I do for you?  (Passionately.)  You’re the most generous, you’re the noblest of women! The wonderful chance that brought you here—

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Interrupting, smiling.)  Brought you at the same happy hour! I’ve done what I liked – the only way to thank me is to believe it!

 

YULE

 

You’ve done it for a proud, poor man. He has nothing – in the light of such a power as yours – either to give or to hope; but you’ve made him, in an hour, think of you—

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Very kindly, as he falters with the rush of his emotion.)  How have I made him think of me?

 

YULE

 

As he has thought of no other woman!  (Pressing her, pleading tenderly.)  Mrs Gracedew, don’t leave me.  (Taking in the place again.)  If you made me care—

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Laughing.)  It was surely that you had made me care!

 

YULE

 

Then let me go on! When I asked you just now for a possible arrangement, as my new creditor, you said we must wait – we must find the possible arrangement. Haven’t I found it on this spot? In finding you, I’ve found the impossible everything! I offer you in return the only thing I have to give – I offer you my hand, my life!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Moving away from him as if to disengage herself from his pressure, to get time to think; and speaking with bright, vague, almost remonstrant kindness.)  Ah, Captain Yule—!

 

(Re-enter CHIVERS from the vestibule.)

 

YULE

 

(Irritated at the interruption.)  What is it?

 

CHIVERS

 

Another party!

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Laughing, exhilarated.)  The ‘party up’! (To CHIVERS.)  Show them in.

 

(Exit CHIVERS.)

 

YULE

 

(Surprised.)  You’ll have them?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

Why, mayn’t I be proud of my house?

 

YULE

 

(Delighted, breathless.)  Then you accept—?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Cautious, as she sees CHIVERS.)  Hush!

 

(Re-enter CHIVERS with party much more numerous than the first, while MRS GRACEDEW and YULE, instantly separating, pass to opposite sides of the stage.)

 

A VISITOR

 

(Looking round; pleased, loud and cheerful.)  Old family portraits?

 

CHIVERS

 

(Pointing to one of the portraits.)  Dame Dorothy Yule – who lived to a hundred and one!

 

ANOTHER VISITOR

 

(Before another portrait, while YULE goes nervously, impatiently up, as if to close, through the vestibule, the door of the house, left open by the last of the party.)  Who’s this?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(Speaking joyously out, while YULE disappears in the vestibule.)  John Anthony Yule – who passed away, poor duck! in his flower!

 

THE VISITOR

 

(Before a portrait of a lady hung over the door of the vestibule, while half the party stare with sheepish but undisguised curiosity at MRS GRACEDEW and the other half gregariously cock up their heads at the picture.)  Who’s that?

 

MRS GRACEDEW

 

(As YULE reappears, framed in the door of the vestibule.)  That?  (With her eyes, in the direction in which, from a distance, the VISITOR points, lighting, with happiness only on YULE.)  Oh, that’s my future husband!

 

THE END

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