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
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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