CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY GIFT OF Cornell University Dept. of Theatre Arts A Lesson in Elegance; OR, THE TRUE ART OF PLEASING. A COMEDY, IN ONE ACT, BERNARD HERBERT. NEW YORK: HAROLD ROORBACK, Publisiiek, 132 Nassau S t 11 e e t. Copyriglit, 1887, by Harold Roorbach. A LESSON IN ELEGANCE; OR, THE TRUE ART OF PLEASING. CAST OF CHARACTERS. MRS. FAYE, A Woman of the World. CONSTANCE DORNE, An Unsophisticated Young Widow. MRS. WOODVILLE WILLING, - Their Aunt. SOPHY, ... - - A Maid. COSTUMES— MODERN SUMMER, MRS. FAYE.— Fashionable street dress. CONSTANCE. — IST Dress. — White muslin robe of severe sim. plicity, with white ribbons, and a knot of violets in her corsage. Her hair is drawn smoothly back from her brow. 21) Dress. — Fashionable toilette, with Gainsborough hat. MRS. WILLING. — Handsome old lady's morning costume. SOPHY. — Maid's neat and simple dress, white apron, cap, etc. 4 A Lesson in. Elegance. PROPERTIES. Hand-bell, three boxes, toilet case containing toilet articles, a tray- bearing a decanter filled with cold tea to represent wine, wine glasses and a plate of biscuit, salver, a letter, books and papers. SCENERY ^^ O O CHAin CHAIH Scene : — Reception Room of Mrs. Willing's Villa at Newport. Doors, R. and L. Window at back, opening upon lawn. At L., u sofa, up stage, and tabic, down stage. R., table, up stage, and easy chair, down stage. Chairs, R. C. and I,. C. The furniture and appointments may be made as rich as convenient. Time, summer. STAGE DIRECTIONS. R. means right. L. means left. C. means centre. R. C, right of centre. L. C, left of centre. Observing you are supposed to face the audience. Up stage means towards the back. Down stage, towards the audience. ■ A Lesson in Elegance; OR, THE TRUE ART OF PLEASING. Scene : The Reception Room of Mrs. Willing's Villa at Newport. Curtain discovers Sophy arranging books and papers on table, R. Enter Mrs. Woodville Willing, Z. Mrs. Willing. Is my niece not down yet, Sophy ? Sophy. Not yet, Madam. Mrs. Dome is still asleep. ■ She seemed fatigued after her journey when she arrived last evening. Mrs. W. She must have been, poor child ! Twelve hours in the train ! When her bell rings, let me know. Sophy. Very well. Madam. \Crosses stage and Exits Z.] Mrs. W. [Seating herself upon so/a with a sigh.'] Ah me I I fancied I had escaped from the stormy sea of life and had cast anchor in a restful haven as becomes my years. Indeed, I had registered a solemn vow that hence- forth I would remain a stranger to the joy and despair of 6 A Lesson in Elegance; or, lovers, wishing no longer to be a spectator of the shift- ing scenes amid which I, in my time, have played my part. And here I am, suddenly plunged into an abyss of desolation, inundated by a dfeluge of tears, and — nolens volens — compelled to figure in a career upon which my contemporaries turned their backs long years ago. And why ? -In order to teach a timorous niece the art of pleas- ing, of making herself seductive, of enforcing adofation. Of course I ask no greater favor than to be permitted to render her this trifling favor; but unfortunately I have grown strangely rusty in inaction, and I scarcely know whether Mrs. Faye. [Ou/stde.] Shall I find my aunt in the par- lor? Sophy. [Appearing' ai door, H.^ and announcing-.] Your niece, Mrs. Faye ! [Exit.] Knter, H., young Mrs. Faye, elegantly allired andwearing the air of a brilliant woman of the world. Mrs. F. {Breezily. ] Good morning. Aunt, Tiow are you? I can't kiss you, because I'm an inch thick with powder ; it's invisible^ but the slightest touch disturbs it — taints the bloom, to be poetical. Well, I suppose you're amazed to see /we here at such an tinearthly hour? Mrs. W. [Smiling.] Unearthly hour, my dear Bella? Why, it is already half-past twelve. Mrs. F. Breakfast time generally with me I But, you see, there was a public rehearsal of Some Frenchman's symphony at the Casino this morning, some decayed Count I believe, who has grabbed Newport as a last resort, just as a drowning man would a straw, and of course I had to put in an appearance. Mrs. W. [Astonished.] And are you a member of 'thfe orchestra ? The True Art of Pleasing. f Mrs. F. You're guying me, Auijt! Don't you know it is the proper thing to attend all such affairs at the Casino ? All the women of note go ! This morning we all arrived in a bunch abput eleven o'clock, just as they were d-oing a very delicate andante .pianissimo, you know ; we sat down, chatted and laughed, and made all sorts of plans for this afternoon and evening. About twelve o'clock they struck into a triuniphal njarch and we a.11 got up and left, having done our duty by the indigent noblefnan. Eleanor Van Cortlandt came in her riding habit ; she had beKii out; with the hounds and looked perfectly charming ! Wh,e*i she left, she mounted again and rode aviray. Tremendous success! I should dearly lik* to fcnow who suggested the idea ; it certainly never originated m her brain, unassisted ! Can you give me a mouthful of luncheon ? I'm almost fam- ished. Mrs. W. {Rising.'] Certainly, my dear; with -pleasure. Mrs. F. Then I shall leave you, sans ceremonie, for i have to fly home and change my dress for the -opening of the Non-Colorists' Exhibition. Mrs. W. In mercy's name, what is that, Bella ? Mrs. F. Oh, a new school of painting. They baven't a particle of talent, which accounts for their success. Mrs. W. Mave'yovi developed a passion for art? V Mrs. F. Of course not ! I can't tell sepia from water- color, but it's the proper thing to go to all these affairs, so Mrs. W. Oh, if it is the proper thing, that settles the point ! So you shall go as soon as you like. Bui I'm go- ing to give you a surprise vi^ith your luncheon. Mrs. F. Have you a new cook? {She takes off her hat.] Mrs. W. No. Your cousin Constance is here. Mrs. F. [/« surprise.] Constance Dome in Newport ! Since when ? 8 A Lesson in Elegance ; or, Mrs. W. She came last evening Mrs. F. Pray, what brings her, of all persons, here ? Mrs. W. Oh, to see something of the world, and to learn how to make herself fascinating. Mrs. F. Good gracious ! Hasn't she found that out at her age? Poor Connie, she always was diffident. How- ever, I shall be delighted to see her ! I can give her some advice on the subject, too, if she wants it I've learned my lesson fairly well. Mrs. W. Take care 1 You'll frighten her to death with your nonsense ! She is just as she always was — ^innocent, timid and a trifle verdant. Mrs. F. Then widowhood has not changed her ? Mrs. ^V. No more than marriage did. If you recollect old Roger Dome, you may guess Mrs. F, That Constance has not lost flesh weeping for him. Heavens ! what should I have done if they had compelled me to marry such a fossil 1 But, there I With her lamb-like air my poor cousin was just fitted for immo- lation ; and under pretext of terminating some lawsuit, of conciliating some interests, they cast her into an ancient country house and into the keeping of a husband more ancient still. The husband had the good taste to expire, after two years of unmixed ennui, but the old country house continued to hold captive its prey, and the timid widow has remained there during her term of mourning — im- maculate lamb ! But with whom is she in love? Do you know that, Aunt? Mrs. W. I saw that there was something upon her mind as soon as she arrived. Of course, I questioned her, and. the poor child, doubtless thankful for my sympathy, acknowledged, in a burst of confidence and tears, that she had fallen desperately in love with a young lieutenant — Lieutenant Fielding of the Navy, whom she has met only three times. The True Art of Pleasing. 9 Mrs. F, The match doesn't appear to be so difScult to arrange. Constance is pretty — that is, she was four years ago. Mrs. W. She is still pretty, if not prettier. She smiles now. Widowhood has granted her a glimmer of hope. Mrs. F. She is well born and has some property in her own right. Why doesn't the lieutenant marry her.? Mrs. 'W. She fancies that she does not please him. Mrs. F. {Approaching Mrs. Willing curiously.'] And pray, why not? Tell me all about it, Aunt. Mrs. 'W. She has an idea that her general appearance, her countrified cut, so to speak, and her ignorance of the ways of the world, have prejudiced the lieutenant against her. Mrs F. Oh, all that can be easily repaired ! When will she be likely to see him again 1 Mrs. W. His ship has been here at Newport for a week ; I believe he means to call upon her to-day. Mrs. F. {Enthusiastically. J Good ! We must make haste ; there is not a moment to be lost ! First she must have a lesson in fine airs and elegance ; then I will dress her, do her hair and give her some style. I'll stake my life that the gallant lieutenant will never recognize her when I am through with her. This is just as it should be among relatives. And if, through my exertions, this marriage is brought about, I trust that my dear aunt will never again accuse me of being frivolous and use- less ! Mrs. 'W. I will go up and see if she is awake, but I propose to be present at the lesson. Who knows .? — per- haps I may learn something, even at my age. [Exit 7?. J Mrs. F. [Sitting upon sq/a.] L"t me see 1 Of course, I can't begin to t^ach her everything at a single sitting — so I must make a selection. The most urgent points' lirst : 10 A Lesson in Elegance ; or, Hair, complexion, figure— and two or three topics of con- versation. Ah, my poor, dear Constance ! I wonder whether you will be an apt scholar ! [Constance Dorne appears at door, L. ] Con. [Extending her arms joy/ully.'\ Bella Mrs. F. [Rising J Constance ! [They embrace ] Oh, oh, oh ! Take care ! — my powder ! Con. How delighted I am to find you here ! And how long it is since we have met ! Mrs. F. Yes, and how much you have gone through ! Oh, Aunt has told me all ! Con. [Starling.] All, Bella! Mrs. F. [Laughing. ] Yes, every little, tiny bit ! In- deed, my dear Connie, I think you exaggerate your troubles! You are in love with a charming fellow who will make a delightful husband ; so what have you \o com- plain off Con. [Demurely.] He does not love me. Mrs. F. How do you know he doesn't ? Con. He can't love me. Just look at me ! What a difference between you and me ! Ah! if I could only resemble you — only acquire the thousand and one graces to which 1 am so utterly a stranger ! Mrs. F. That is by no means impossible. Listen to me. I'm going to sacrifice to you the Non-Colorists' Exhibition ! There, there, don't thank me. Aunt shall send us in a glass of wine and some biscuit, we've no tnne for luncheon, and I'll teach you several things which you haven't the faint- est idea of at present : how to do your hair, how to dress, how to talk, hold your tongue, laugh and cry. Con. Ah I I know full well how to cry ! Mrs. F. I don't believe you know the first rudiments. Now then raw recruit, attention ! Con. [Laughing.] Colonel! [Assumes the military pose. J Tlie True Art of Pleasing. ii Mrs. F. So far, so good ! In the first place, we must be gay, very gay ; and talk fast, very fast ! Otherwise, people will think we have come from up behind the moon, where melancholy widows are supposed to dwell. One moment, please ; allow me to give an order. I'm like a juggler. I can't work without my mystic paraphernalia. [Rings hell upon table, R. ] Enter Sophy, R. Mrs. F. Sophy, take my carriage, which is waiting at the door, and drive with all speed to my villa. My maid will give you my toilet case, my new costume of peach bloom crepe and foulard, my Gainsborough hat and a fresh pair of gloves like these. [Shows gloves.] Now, away with you ! Quick ! Sophy. Very good. Madam ! [Exit R.] Mrs. F. Now, before Aunt returns, 1 want to ask you one question. Con. Well.? Mrs. F. How does it stand with you at present.? Enter Sophy timidly, R. Mrs. F. Well? Aren't you off yet.? Sophy. You must excuse me, Madam, but I — I — Mrs. F. [Impatiently. ] Well, well .? You — what .? Sophy. You see I can't remember the — name. Mrs. F. Name.? What name.? 71^ name? Sophy. Oh, no, madam ; the name of the hat^;-Mal- borough, Marlborough Mrs. F. [Laughing. J Malborough, Marlborough ! [Speaking very distinctly.'] Gainsborough, Gains-borough! It's the name of a painter, contemporary with Hogarth, in England, time of George I. Surely you ought to know that ! Now, be off with you. 12 A Lesson in Elegance ; or, Sophy. [Going, R ] Games-borough ; I shall remember it now ; but mercy on me, how comphcated the hats are, nowadays ! ' [Exit R. ] Mrs. F, [Looking after Sophy.J Dear me, how ignorant the lower classes are ! Con. What were you saying, dear, when she interrupted you? Mrs. F. [Absently.] What was I saying ? Sure enough, what was I — Oh, yes ! I was asking you how it stood with you at present ? Con. [Puzzled.] How do I stand? Mrs. F. Yes, with the lieutenant. How far have you got along? Well, don't you understand? How many calls has he paid you ? Con. Oh! three. Mrs. F. That's satisfactory. And what have you talked about ? Con. Everything — and nothing. Mrs. F. Excellent ! Did he appear absent-minded, dreamy ? Con. Oh, far from it ! He laughed and treated me as if — well, as if I were very old or very young. Mrs. F. [Shaking her head.] Humph ! Bad sign. Con. [Startled.] Do you think so ? Mrs. F. Come, come — don't lose your pluck. And what have you said to him ? Con. Nothing of any importance. I mentioned the fact that we had had a very severe winter, that the parish poor had suffered more than usual, that the crops -prom- ised well, that the Rev. Mr. Silkman was going to confirm ten young girls who were in my Sunday-school class, that Mrs. F. [Ln despair.] There, there, there ! — that's quite enough ! [Tragically.] And to think that this is my cousin ! The True Art of Pleasing^ 13 Con. {Innocently. ] Well, what should I say to him ? Mrs. F. Oh, a thousand things which, after all, amount to but one and the same thing. You should have com- plained that you were afflicted with nervous prostration; that you were wild for excitement one minute, while in the next you were equally eager for solitude ; that you stood in real need of serious counsel, and that in the midst of youi restive condition — don't forget to use restive, it's a fashion- able word, implies an excited state of the nerves and always tells, when it is properly placed — that in the midst of your restive condition you haven't a loyal and devoted friend to turn to, who can divine your hidden woes, your indefin- able suffering. Naturally you'll shed a few quiet tears, then burst into a laugh, strike a chord or two on the piano and dismiss the gentleman in more of a fog con- cerning you than he was in before he called. {Imitating the tone of a polite farewell.'\ "And pray pardon my having betrayed, even for an instant, my innermost thoughts ! '' {Laughing. ] Do you see ? Oh, I have done it ever so many times ! Con. [Shocked.'} But it is all false! I could never behave in such a manner ! Mrs. F. What stupidity ! It is true, isn't it, that you are in love, wish to be loved and become a happy wife ? Well, the end justifies the means. You know the proverb; Con. [Timidly.] But I don't think I approve of the means. Mrs. F. [Laughing.] How dare you criticise my tactics 1 What recruit ever questioned his general's strategic movements ? Con. You are annoyed with me in spite of your smiles. Mrs. F. One word more, and I hand you over as a hope- less case ! 14 A Lesson in Eieganre ; or, Enter Mss. Willing, Z., suddeniy. Mrs. W. [^fn surprise. \ Why, girls, what's the trotible ? Quarreling SO soQii ? Mrs. F. Of- course not, Aunt ; but Connie has balked at the very rudiments of the art of pleasing. {She rises.] Mrs. W. [Gaify reproachful.'] Oh, that will never do, you naughty child. Con. But, Aunt, she wishes me to tell an untruth. Mrs. F. In a good cause ! However, we will bother ourselves no longer over what has happened; what is done can't be helped. The harm is not irre.parable, so we will see what we can do to repair it Suppose, for instance, you were to meet at the opera. To be sure, it is ticklish ground for a maneuvre, especially if a person is as in- experienced as you are. Con. But it seems to me that a person has nothing to do at the opera but to listen to the music. Mrs. F. '[171 pitiful despair, falling upon ihe sofa.] Listen to the music. I s.hall make nothing of her ! Con. {Innocently.] Why, of course, listen to the music, which dispenses with conversation. Mrs. F. Dear me 1 if people went to the -opera and did not talk, what — Mrs. W. I agree with Constance ; she is right there. Mrs. F. {Rising indignantly.] Right! My dear Aunt, I beg you will not put in your oar ! In your tirlie people labored Xinder a"crowd of prejudices which are no lOngerin vogue. {To Constance. ] Pay attention to what I tell you; your future depends upon it {She places two chairs to rep- resent a box at the Opera.] There's your box at the opera. Naturally you arrive when the first act is nearly over. Con. Nearly over ! Why, then you don't understand what it is all about ! Mrs. F. {Furiousfy.] Good Heavens ! What shall Ido with her .? The True Art of Pleasing. 15 Mrs. W. [Geh/ly, to Constance.] My dear child, that makes no difference; operas are all alike. Mrs. F. It doesn't matter whether they are or not. The question is at issue betweeii you and your \Vorld. You produce some stir in taking your seat— in a perfectly lady- like manner, of Course — though you may depend upon it there'll be a "Sh-sh !" heard somewhere in the neighbor- hood. But as that will draw attention to yout box and cause your toilette to be remarked, it servfesits purpose. Con. I consider such disturbances in very bad tastfe. Mrs. W. {Trying to keep peace.'\ But you need not make a positive uproar, you know. Mrs. F. \_Suiting the action to the ■word and playing the part as she speaks \ louring the following act you sweep the house with your opera glass, paying no attention to the stage ; you nod to your friends, and finally conclude to honor the singers with a glance. If the situation on the stage should be a mournful one, don't fail to smjile be- hind your fan as though you .detected some grotesque re- semblance between the interpreters of the work and some members of your acquaintance. • If, on the contrary, the piece should be gay, affect to be profoundly bored, even to a covert yawn, when everybody else is laughing-, and leave in the midst -of the last act, observing the -same ceremonial as upon you-r arrival. Con. It is all very complicated, and I don't think it at all amusing. Mrs. W. But you'll become accustomed to it, my dear. Mrs. F, If I were obliged to listen in silence to a whole opera— 'upon my word, I think I should e«;pire ; while an evening' passes very quickly if one's mind is occupied. By feis means a woman soon acquires the reputation of being Masee, indifferent and hard to please, which produces a i6 A Lesson in Elegance ; or, powerful effect upon one's set Now, try it yourself. Let us see what you would do if you were at the opera. Con. [/nnocen/iy. ] Oh, how I should like to go ! You must take me this winter. Aunt. [Jimng. J I must say I don't feel much in the mood of pantomime. [She seals herself in one of the chairs, opens her fan and seems lost in reflection. To her self. '\ At the opera ! Oh, how I wish I were there at this very moment I Mrs. F. [Annoyed.] Oh, that's not right, at all! I should think you had never been inside of a theatre in all your life. I should be ^nortified to be seen with you — mor- tified as your instructor, mortified as a relative I Enter Sophy, Z. , carrying three boxes. Sophy. Here are all the things you sent for, Mrs. Faye. [Placing the boxes upon table, Z.] The toilet case, the dress — with the gloves, the hat — the Gains- borough hat — I'm sure of it now — the coachman told me I Mrs. F. Very well. You may leave the toilet case here, and take the other boxes to Mrs. Dome's chamber. Sophy. [Taking the two larger boxes.] Very good. Madam. [Aside.] Gainsborough was the only painter that ever heard tell of who was a milliner as well ! [Exit.J Mrs. F. There now! Perhaps a change of toilet may aid you a little. Suppose we commence with your hair. [She opens the case. Constance seats herself and Mrs. Faye- brushes her hair into rings low upon her forehead.] There! Now a little powder. [She powders Constance's face and gives her own a touch.] Now a slight penciling for the eye brows, a bit of rouge upon your lips, and this dagger for your hair, until the time comes ft>r you to" plunge it 71^1? True A rt of Pleasing. 1 7 into the lieutenant's heart. S^She does each piece of busi- ness as she speaks, and then passes Constance a hand- glass. ] Look at yourself ! Con. [^Regarding herself, charmed ] Oh, I scarcely know myself! Indeed, you must be right; I shall please him now ! Mrs. \Ar. [ Wlio has drawn up a chair and watched the scene with interest.'\ In my grandmother's day they would have added a patch of court-plaster under the left eye, and it would jiot have been one whit more necessary than all this make-up. Con. \Rising.'\ Now I should like to put on the dress and try the effect I trust, my dear Bella, you will pardon my stupid observations. Let me kiss you, for to you I shall owe all my happiness ! Mrs. F. \_Hand-glass in hand, is touching up her own cotnplexion.\ There, there, thank me on your wedding day. Oh, by-the-by, Connie, when you put on the dress, don't forget that it requires a [She puffs out her over- skirt. ] Con. [Going L., pauses. '\ A — what, dear? Mrs. F. [Laughing.] Why, you know well enough ! A — a something to support it. Con. Support — what.'' Mrs. F. [Annoyed.] "Support what.?" Why, support the whole thing ! Mrs. W. and Con. Oh, yes ! A- Mrs. F. Do you understand at last.? Mrs. W. In my young days, girls, we used to call that something a bustle ! Con. [Laughing.] Oh, Aunt, Aunt ! [Flies laughing out of door, L.] i8 A Lesson in Elegance ; or, Enter Sophv, R. , bearing- a iray upon mhich are a decanter e_f wme, same glasses and a p.'ate of biscuit. She places iray upon table, R., and Exit L. Mrs. F. {Fanning herself and pouring out a glass of wine.] Oh, what a tiresome job it is to play the professor! Still, I fancy that, for once, I have jnade a good thing of it. Shall I give you a glass ofwiue? Mrs. W. If you please. Tell rrve, you do not find Constance lacking in sprightliness, do you ? Mrs. F. [Pouring out a glass of wine and hand'ng it to Mrs. Willing.] Not in the least ; quite the contrary. Mrs. W. But she's so inexperienced ! Mrs. F. [Seating herself] Qh. well — I've had enough for two, and can spare her a few points. Enter Sophy, L., with a letter on a salver. Sophy. A letter for Mrs. Willing. Mrs. W. [Taking the letter.] By the mail, Sophy? Sophy. [Coyly.] No, Madam, by a very nice looking young man in uniform. [Exit Z.] Mrs. ^A^. [Breaking the seal.] Will you permit me, Bella? Mrs. F. Certainly ! Pray don't mind me. Mrs. W. [Starling.] What's this! From • my old friend, Admiral Fielding. What under the sun can have impelled him to take lip the pen ? Mrs. F. [Mischievously. J Oh, read it aloud. Aunt ; will you ? Mrs. 'W. [Reading.] " My Dear Madam : — It is so long since I ceased to be an amiable visitor, as I know to my cost, that I rarely pay visits. However, I aspire to the honor of being received by you and claiming an audience The True Art of Pleasing. 19 of you for a mission as extraordinary as it is secret. " — What can he mean ? [Pauses and looks at ]Mrs. Faye.] Mrs. F. [Rising and placing her glass upon the table, R.'\ Oh, Aunt, in mercy's name, continue ! I am all ears I Mrs. W. [Reading.] " I have to communicate, with- out delay, an affair so important that neither the catarrh, the gout nor the burden of years under which I struggle will permit of parley or procrastination. Know then — for I am so antiquated now that mysteries weigh upon me— that this evening I shall don war paint and feathers as ,in my days of battle, and come to you formally to demand the hand of your niece, Constance Dome, for my nephew, George Fielding, Lieutenant, U. S. N. The dear boy is so smitten with the pretty widow, whose candor, simplicity, naivete, charm, grace, etc., etc., are shared by no other woman, as I am given to understand, that in spite of his epaulets, he dares not trust himself to speak. Until this evening, when I shall beg to kiss your hand, weak though I am, I ask to remain your most devoted servant and ad- mirer. — Fielding." There ! [A long silence, during which the two women regard each other in stupefaciion.\ Mrs. F. What do you think of that? Mrs. W. That your lesson was all in vain. Mrs. F. And that the pupil knew more than the pro- fessor ! "KnteT CotiSTXfiCS., L., in /ull toilette, and wearing the Gains- borough hat. Con. Well, is this the proper thing? Am I all right? [Starting.] Why, what is the matter with you both ? Mrs. W. [Extending the letter.] Read that ! [Constance hastily reads the letter and nt.'crs a cry 0/ joy. Slie tears the hat from her head and c.is.'s it upon the so/a, hastily thrusts 20 A Lesson in Elegance. hack her hair with her hand, kisses the letter, half laughing, half tearfully , and comes down between Mrs. Willing and Mrs. Faye, taking each by the hand. ] Con. Oh, what happiness, that he loves me just as I am! I could never have been anything else, {turning to Mrs. Faye and kissing her cheek'] in spite of your Lesson in Elegance. Constance. Mrs. Faye. Mrs. Willing. Curtain. \