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A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 
 
 ^ €>om«(ty 
 
 IN THREE ACTS. 
 
 3 
 
 t 
 
 Scene. NEAR LONDON. 
 
 Costumes. XVIIIth CENTURY— POWDERED WIGS. 
 
 PUBLISHED FOR THE AUTHOR 
 
PS 33 1^ 
 
 COPYEIGHT SECOKED. AlL RIGHTS RESERVED. 
 
 By Francis H. Williams. 
 
 COLLINS, PRINTER. 
 
A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 
 
 A COMEDY IN THREE ACTS. 
 
 DRAJIATIS PERSON.E. 
 
 Countess of Touchstone, — //* the inner circle of the Socie- 
 tary Beatitudes. 
 
 Helena Renaissance, — Her Daughter. ^'■Really most 
 quaintly sweet." 
 
 Sappho Arabesque, — Niece to the Countess. " Quite chastely 
 mediceval." 
 
 Lady Ironsides, D.C.L. Oxon., Ph.D. 
 
 Lord Touchstone-Pepper, Fifth Earl of Touchstone, — ivho 
 ^^doesn't like contradiction, you knoiv." 
 
 Lord de Portment, — ivho esteems a graceful carriage above 
 mnch riches. 
 
 Sir Harry Sangfroid, — Lineal descendant of Sir Q. Cum- 
 ber, Bart. 
 
 Sir Meekly Ironsides, — Fourth Assistant Secretary to the 
 Woman Suffrage Association. 
 
 BOGGS. 
 
 ACT FIRST. 
 
 Scene Garden adjoining the country residence of the Earl 
 
 of ToJichstone. Double gate, centre, opening to park beyond. 
 Wall at back with spiked coping. Flower-beds each side of 
 gateway. Mansion at left, loith doorway and steps to garden. 
 Floxoer-beds and shrubbery at left, back. Flower stand ivith 
 potted roses. Grass-plot at right. Rustic bench, small rustic 
 table, and two chairs, right Time, the forenoon. 
 
 (The Countess of Touchstone and Lady Helena discovered 
 seated at the table.^ 
 
 Countess. How absurd of" you, Helena. The man isn't of 
 
4 A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 
 
 our set, I tell you. How, then, can he have an " Olympic 
 head"? 
 
 Helena. But, sweet mamma, his pose is really most rest- 
 ful. Quite Corinthian in fact. And his brow — ah ! (siffhs.) 
 
 Countess. Nonsense, Helena. His brow can't be fine, it's 
 absolutely impossible. Why, liis grandfather was only a baronet ! 
 
 Helena. That's all Sir Harry is now, mamma. 
 
 Countess. Ah, but Sir Harry's of our set. And then 
 Sir Harry is a young man yet, full of ardor and every manly 
 virtue. His great -granduucle's maternal grandfather was 
 knighted by James I. for liis services in suppressing the tobacco 
 traffic. Blue blood, Helena, blue blood through nine genera- 
 tions. Why wasn't his mother a Fitz Gobble, — a junior branch 
 of the Gol)bles of Gobbleton? And doesn't his tree show a 
 sti-aight line back to Sir Q. Cumber, who, on tlie field of Bos- 
 wortii, when P^arl lliclmiond had the tip of his nose carried 
 away by an arrow, deliberately snipped ofi' a piece of his own 
 organ of scent and bound it to the Earl's face, so that the royal 
 house of Tudor should not come to the tlirone noseless? 
 
 Blood will tell, Helena. And Sir Hari-y 's a gentleman. 
 
 Helena. But, sweet mamma, methinks Sir Harry is less 
 chastely statuesque than Lord de Portment. 
 
 Countess. Lord de Portment ! I tell you, my dear, he 
 isn't of our set, and I really couldn't think of your receiving 
 the attentions of any one outside. Why Lord de Portment 
 actually goes to Lady Boodle's soirees. Think of it ! And 
 the Boodles were in trade thirty years ago. Booh ! 
 
 Helena. Ah dear ! The ideal counts for little in this soul- 
 less world. One yearns with a sorrowful longing — a sort of 
 painful solicitude — at times. And they say Sir Harry is very 
 reckless at gaming, mamma. 
 
 Countess. Tut, tut. He must have his fling, to be sure. 
 It's aristocratic to play high. It is only the parvenues who 
 reckon up their bank accounts before making their stakes. Sir 
 Harry has the lavish hand of the old noblesse. Now, can you 
 for a moment imagine de Portment playing for heavy stakes ? 
 de Portment, with his vulgar attempts at attitudinizing and 
 his sham graces ! Ha, ha, ha. It 's preposterous! Ha, ha, ha. 
 
 Helena. Oh, do please laugh in a minor key, sweet 
 mamma. You really jar my aural sense of the beautiful. Dear 
 Lady Sappho says there should always be a certain sense of 
 
A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. O 
 
 the soul's anguish in a huigh — an echo of the pain of life in 
 fact. Laughs in tlie major key went out with Titian. 
 
 CoirNTESS. Helena, I have no objection to your indulging 
 your taste for mediieval study, but don't attempt to instruct me 
 in etiquette, if you please. Knowledge of how to laugh, when 
 to laugh, and what to laugh at, is a prerequisite to admission 
 to .the inner circles of society. I consider Lord de Portment 
 a very proper object of merriment, 1 assure you. And I beg 
 that you will not let me hear of his foolish suit again. 
 
 Helena. Oh, dear. Alas ! he is so statuesque ! And, 
 sweet mamma, they say he never bores one by being much at 
 home. He almost lives at his club. Ah — {sighing.) 
 
 Countess. Now, don't grow melancholy, Helena. You 
 know the Ironsides will be here for a fortnight, and I want 
 you to be as lively as possible. Besides, you will have Sappho 
 with you. Is she taking a rest after her long ride? 
 
 Helena. Yes. I left the dear girl in her boudoir. She 
 will be down as soon as she removes her travel stains. What a 
 pity we can't travel by some aerial arrangement of wings, isn't 
 it ? The thought of a coach is so abliorrent to one's calm ! 
 
 Countess. ]My dear child, you should really get your 
 nerves into better training. We can scarcely live on rose- 
 leaves, and you know liow irascible your papa is, and how affec- 
 tation annoys him. 
 
 Helena. Affectation! Ah, no; only refinement, mamma. 
 I do wish dear papa were not quite so modern in his temper. If 
 he would only base his rage on Greek models ! Herculean 
 anger would be sublime. 
 
 {Enter from house, JBoggs.) 
 
 BoGGS. My Lady H'ironsides, my Lady. H'also, Sir 
 Meekly H'ironsides, my Lady. 
 
 Countess (tossing embroidery to Helena.) There, Helena, 
 do be engaged upon something elegant. P^mbroidering that 
 moss rose, for instance. 
 
 Helena (leaning back languidly.) Thanks, sweet mamma, 
 but methinks an ideal languor becomes me better. 
 
 (Enter from house, Lady Ironsides, followed by Sir Meehly.) 
 
 Countess (meeting them.) So glad you came to the garden, 
 dear Ladv Ironsides. Sir Meekly, I trust you feel refreshed. 
 
 1* 
 
6 A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 
 
 Lady I. Thanks. He does. He liad an excellent night's 
 rest. {To Sir M.) Sit over there, Sir Meekly. 
 
 Sir M. Y' y' y'es, my love. 
 
 Lady I. What a charming spot, Countess. How much 
 you must revel in these flowers! (^aside.) A mean little pen 
 to be called a garden. 
 
 Countess. Oh, pleasant for a month's rest, you know. 
 London wears on one so towards the close of the season. 
 
 {Sir M. mistahes a stand of roses for a rustic chair, and in try- 
 ing to seat himself' tumbles headlong into the flower-bed.) 
 
 Lady L Good heavens! Sir Meekly. Haven't you eyes? 
 
 SiK M. {from flotver-bed.) Y' y' yes, my love. That is — 
 I think . . . 
 
 Lady I. Well, you shouldn't think. Look ! Why don't 
 you look ? {Boggs assists- Sir M. to rise.) 
 
 Countess. I trust you are not hurt. 
 
 Helena {aside.) So unpleasantly precipitate. 
 
 Lady L Tiie fact is. Lady Touchstone, he has been a trifle 
 near-sighted ever since Mrs. Amadeus Hector delivered her 
 sublime oration on the Woman of the J'uture. Being fourth 
 assistant secretary to the Suffrage Association, it became Sir 
 Meekly's duty to copy out that oration for the press. He com- 
 plained of his eyes at the 418th page . 
 
 Countess. Good gracious! 
 
 Lady I. Yes, poor man. But in such a noble cause, you 
 know. 
 
 Helena. By my troth, methinks the task were all too 
 hard. 
 
 Lady I. {aside.) AVhat a fool that girl is. 
 
 Countess. Boggs, get a whisk and brush Sir Meekly off. 
 
 ( Exit Boggs.) 
 
 Sir M. Th' th' thanks, very much I f fear I've crushed 
 your p' p' pansies. 
 
 Countess. Don't speak of it. 
 
 Sir M. {pulling floivers from his ear.) There are t' two 
 pansies in my left e' ear. 
 
 (Re-enter Boggs with whisks. He brushes Sir M.'s coat.) 
 
 Countess. I believe you are quite interested in the rights 
 of woman, my Lady ? 
 
A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 7 
 
 Lady I. ' Tis the objective point of my existence. Thanks 
 to sucli women as IMrs. Amadeiis Hector, victory is now 
 within our grasp. The next session of Parliament is sure to 
 give us justice. 
 
 (^Exit Boggs, L.) 
 
 Countess. Is.»Mrs. Hector in — in society, you know? 
 
 Lady I. A woman quite independent of society ; indeed 
 quite above sex. 
 
 Helena. Spirit of Aphrodite ! How^ very dreadful. 
 
 Lady I. (aside.) I knew she was a fool. 
 
 Countess. Spare your comments, Helena. Pray proceed, 
 my Lady. You think Parliament is going to legislate in favor 
 of . . . 
 
 Lady I. In favor of woman's liberation. Should I have 
 the pleasure of driving down to this delightful seat next season, 
 I expect to come attended by a coach-woman, and a foot-wo- 
 man, and . . . 
 
 Siu M. And to be received b' by your f ' flunkeyess, my 
 L' Lady. 
 
 Lady I. Sir Meekly ! 
 
 Sir M. Y' y' yes, my love. 
 
 Helena. On my faith, an' I be not deceived, 'tis but a 
 limping ambition ! 
 
 Sir M. N' no, my dear young lady. T' 'tis g' grand ! Wo- 
 man is bound to be a f flunkeyess, before she g' gets through. 
 
 Lady L Meekly, you talk so incessantly ! Be good enough 
 to permit others to express an occasional opinion. 
 
 Sir M. Y' y' yes, my love. 
 
 Countess. Ha, ha ! I hope you may not find the rights 
 of woman synonymous with her degradation. 
 
 Helena (spriiiging up.) Ah, joy ! There is dear Sappho. 
 
 (Enter from house, Lady Sappho. Sappho and Helena 
 embrace rapturously in centre of stage.) 
 
 Countess. My Lady Ironsides, permit me to present to 
 you my niece, the Lady Sappho Arabesque. Sappho, Sir 
 Meekly Ironsides. 
 
 Sappho. So glad. 
 
 Lady I. Ah, I suppose you find this lovely retreat quite 
 captivating, my dear young lady? Do you read much ? 
 
8 A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 
 
 Sappho. Really, I, aw, hardly know, you know. My 
 heart's sister can answer better than I. {To Helena.) Do 
 we read much, sweet ? 
 
 Helena. Oh, so much ! Roundels from the early French 
 mostly; such quaint, quaint bit's. 
 
 Sappho. Ah ! so full of soul. 
 
 Lady I. (aside.') A worse fool than the other ! ( To Sappho.) 
 Did you ever read " Mrs. Bloodkins on Female Vengeance" ? 
 
 (Sappho screams.) 
 
 Helena. Olympian Zeus ! 
 
 Countess. 1 suspect they rarely indulge in heavy reading, 
 my Lady. 
 
 Lady I. Heavy ! What can be lighter than the brain-work 
 of such women as Mrs. Bloodkins? 
 
 (Sir Meekly, in wandering about, at hack, has caught his stock 
 in one of the spikes on top of the garden wall, and is wrig- 
 gling, hcdf suspended and choking.) 
 
 Sir M. Ow — wow — fitz — ow. 
 
 Countess. Oh, dear. He is caught on one of the spikes. 
 Boggs, Boggs. 
 
 (Enter, hurriedly, Boggs, L.) 
 
 Lady I. (calmly.) Unhook him. Take him down. 
 Boggs (assisting Sir M.) H'any dislocation, sir ! 
 Sir M. N — no! thanks very much. I — 1 leally was 
 1 — looking for . , . 
 
 (Exit Boggs.) 
 
 Lady I. Well, you shouldn't look. Think ! Why don't 
 you think ? The fact is, Lady Touchstone, Sir Meekly is 
 afflicted with chronic weakness in the left knee . . . 
 
 (Helena and Sappho scream.) 
 
 Lady I. Good heavens ! young ladies ; what is the 
 matter? 
 
 Sappho. Greek art doesn't admit of any knee, madam, 
 and . . . 
 
 Helena. A true medioivalism demands but a single curve 
 from torso to ankle. ( 7'o Sappho.) To think of it, sweet, a 
 knee . . Boo-oh ! 
 
A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 9 
 
 Sappho. Boo-oh ? Horrible! Ah . . . 
 
 Countess. My Lady, you must pardon a slight tendency 
 to radicalism in my daughter and my niece. 
 
 BoGGS [from doorwaij of house.) Lord de Portment, 
 my Lady. 
 
 Countess. Ah ! Desire him to come into tlie garden. 
 
 (Bog(/s hoios and exit.) 
 
 I am really annoyed. {To Lady 1.) Lord de Portment per- 
 sists in his attentions to Helena, though he must see that they 
 are distasteful . . . 
 
 Helena. Oh ! mamma . . . 
 
 Countess. To me, at least. 
 
 Helena {aside to Sappho.) Again he comes, sweet. 
 So poetic, and so splendidly posed ! 
 
 Sappho. And so fond of you, ah ! 
 
 Ladi' I. {aside to Countess.) I think I remember de 
 Portment i-n Lodon. A scrawny man with goggle eyes? 
 
 Countess. The same. Lank as a herring. 
 
 Helena {aside to Sappho.) And so classic in physique ! 
 
 Sappho. Absolutely attic ; ah! 
 
 Lady L {aside to Countess.) Yes ; very like a yardstiik. 
 
 Countess. I wish he could remain away. The man is an 
 unmitigated nuisance . . . 
 
 {Enter, from house, de Portment.) 
 
 Ah, my Lord ! truly delighted to see you. 
 
 {de P. hisses Countess's hand with great ceremony.) 
 
 Lady Ironsides, Sir Meekly Ironsides, my Lord de Port- 
 ment. 
 
 ( Ceremonious salutes.) 
 
 DE P. To see my Lady Ironsides but once is to remember 
 her forever. 
 
 Sir M. {aside, at back.) A — amen. 
 
 Helena {aside to Sappho.) How gallant ! 
 
 Sappho. Ah, so gallant ! 
 
 Lady L We met, I think, at . . . 
 
 de p. Exactly. At the Marchioness of Plumly's fancy 
 ball. You appeared as . . . 
 
 Lady I. I did. As Brunhild. 
 
 Countess {aside.) A well chosen character. 
 
10 A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 
 
 Lady I. I remember your commanding presence in the 
 dress of — of . . . 
 
 DE P. Saladin. Really, I should hardly have supposed 
 your memory could retain so trifling an incident. I am pro- 
 foundly flattered, madam. 
 
 Lady I. My Lord, impossible for me to forget, I am sure. 
 (aside to Countess.) What a flat he is, to be sure ! 
 
 Countess. A perfect noodle ! 
 
 {Countess and Lady I. go up stage.) 
 
 DE P. {to Helena.) My dear lady, time's pinions have 
 seemed weighted since last I had this privilege. 
 
 Sappho (aside.) Ah ! 
 
 Helena. I' faith, time is but a sorry carrier. 
 
 Countess, {from back.) Lord de Portment, we are going 
 to look at the rhododendrons on the other side of the garden. 
 "Will you not join us ? 
 
 DE P. You will pardon me, my Lady, if I prefer a rosebud 
 to a rhododendron. (Glancing totvards Helena.) 
 
 Countess. A very graceful compliment to Sappho, which 
 3 am sure she will appreciate. (Coming doivn.) 
 
 Helena (aside to Countess.) Oh, mamma ! 'twas I whom 
 he meant. 
 
 Countess. Of course it was ; but I choose to take it other- 
 wise. ( 7b de P.) I must really ask you to give your arm to 
 Lady Ironsides, otherwise she would have to be escoi'ted by 
 her husband, and that, you know, would be quite too dreadful. 
 
 DE P. Oh, quite. Delighted, I'm sure. 
 
 (Offers arm to Lady I.) 
 
 Countess. Sir Meekly, will you take Sappho? You and 
 I, Helena, will lead the way. 
 
 Helena (aside to Countess.) Cruel mamma. 
 Countess. Say rather, " ^Yise mamma." This way, please. 
 (Exeunt B,., Countess and Helena.) 
 
 SiK M. (to Sapjoho.) It's really . . aw . . I say . . its 
 r' really an aw' awfully f ' fine day, is n't it ? 
 
 Sappho. Quite truly beatific. The sky is sapphire. 
 Sir M. Y' yes. Very s' sapphire. 
 
 (Exeunt R., Sir Meekly and Sappho.) 
 
 Lady I. (to de P.) I want your influence, my Lord, for 
 
A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 11 
 
 the Female Liberation Society. I shall post you a dozen pam- 
 phlets on tlie " Tyranny ot" Man'' to-morrow. 
 DE P. Aw, charmed I'm sure. 
 
 (^Exeunt de Portment and Lady /.) 
 
 Lord Touchstone, {heard ivithin house.) I don't care 
 I tell you ; not a fig ; do you understand, not a fig ? 
 BoGGS. {lieard loithin house.) But, my Lord 
 Touch. (Jieard loithin house.) Hold your tongue, sir. 
 Daggers and tombstones ! Hold your tongue. 
 
 i^Enter from house, Lord Touchstone followed hy Boggs, trem- 
 bling.) 
 
 Touch. Never tell me the butler was sorry. How dare he 
 serve me a saddle of venison with currant jelly when he knew 
 I wished blackberry jelly, eh ? Answer me that, blockhead ! 
 Flintlocks and cutlasses! 'Twould irritate a seraph. Don't 
 stand gaping there, but bring me pens and ink. 
 
 BoGGS. Y' yes, my Lord. Directly, my Lord. 
 
 [Exit Boggs.) 
 
 Touch. I'll write to that rascally tailor about my court coat, 
 and I can keep cooler if I write out here. The villain ! to send 
 me home a coat with a plush collar when he knew I wanted 
 silk ! Monstrous ! Boggs, Boggs. 
 
 {Enter Boggs.) 
 
 Boggs. Coming, my Lord. 
 
 Touch. So is Michaelmas ! Why didn't you answer when 
 I called, sir? 
 
 Boggs. I did, my Lord, I . . . 
 Touch. Hold your tongue ! 
 Boggs. Yes, my Lord. 
 
 {Boggs arranges writing materials on table. Lord T. seats 
 himself and takes a dip of ink furiously.) 
 
 Touch, {writing.) " Idiot ! the next time you try to botch 
 a job of tailoring" . . . {speaks.) A pest on such pens. 
 Boggs, you're a fool. 
 
 Boggs. Y' yes, my lord. 
 
 Touch, Quills! Bring me more quills. These are nothing 
 but infernal toothpicks. Zounds ! be quick ! 
 
 {Exit Boggs, hastily.) 
 
12 A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 
 
 Touch, (solus.) Its perfectly outrageous that, with my 
 naturally calm and benevolent disposition, I should be eternally 
 annoyed and baited by butlers and tailors. I who am so even- 
 tempered — I . 
 
 {Enter Boggs.) 
 
 There, there, there ; hurry, will you, stupid ? Do you suppose 
 I can wait all day ? 
 
 BoGGS. Yes, my Lord. I mean no, my Lord. 
 
 (Laughter heard off, R.) 
 
 Touch. Sliotguns and scimetars ! What's that ? 
 
 BoGGS. My Lady, my Lord ; and my Lady H'Ironsides, 
 my Lord ; and my Lord de Portment, my Lord, and . 
 
 Touch. Hold your tongue, knave. Do you mean to say 
 there's a garden-party here? 
 
 BoGGS. My Lady's a-showin' some ladies and gentlemen 
 the rhododendremusses, my lord. 
 
 Touch. Ugh ! Then let me finish my letter and be done 
 with it. (writing.) ..." Job of tailoring ; just sharpen 
 your owl's eyes by jabbing your shears into them a bit, you 
 conceited donkey." ... 
 
 (More laughter off, R.) 
 (speaks.) How boisterous they are ! It's positively ungen- 
 teel ! (ffe completes letter.) 
 
 BoGGS (aside.) I 'opes they'll get back before the H'earl 
 gets another h'attack of choler. 
 
 Touch. There, Boggs, take this letter, and see that it's 
 delivered to-day ; do you hear ? 
 
 (Delivering letter to Boggs.) 
 
 Boggs. Yes, my Lord. 
 
 Tovcii. (aside.) Ah, I forgot to sign it. No matter. That 
 dunderhead will know my character. He's seen it before. 
 
 (Laughter nearer, off' R.) 
 
 Disgusting hilarity ! If there's anything I do admire it's a 
 low voice. These people laugh too loud. It's abominable. 
 
 Boggs (aside.) There a-comin'. But so is the choler. 
 Its a even race. 
 
 Touch. By Hercules ! it puts me out of temper. What 
 right, I should like to knoAv. . . Oh, they are here. 
 
 (Enter Lady /., R., on the arm of de P.) 
 
A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 13 
 
 Lady I. Yes, my Lord. One luindred and seventy fish- 
 women bearing banners with the device : " Death to man !" 
 Wasn't it grand ? 
 
 DE P. Sublime, I'm sure, (aside.) Oh heavens ! To be 
 talked to death ! 
 
 Lady L Lady Touchstone would join our ranks if it were 
 not tor that cross-grained old idiot, tlie Earl 
 
 Touch. Ahem ! Enjoying the garden I see, Lady Iron- 
 sides. 
 
 Lady I. (starting.) Oh ! 
 
 Touch. Ah, de Portment, good-day. 
 
 DE P. Ah, my Lord, (boiving low.) 
 
 Lady I^ Your lordship quite startled me . 
 
 Touch. Yes. I thought I startled you. How did you 
 like the rhododendrons? 
 
 Lady I. Oh beautiful; but too frail. Flowers, like women, 
 should be strong and vigorous. We want power, power, my 
 Lord. 
 
 DE P. (aside.) Ye powers ! 
 
 (Enter, R., Countess and Helena.) 
 
 Countess. I hope Sappho will take good care of Sir 
 Meekly. 
 
 Helena. Poor Sappho. Oh ! here's sweet papa. 
 
 Touch. Yes, here I am, girl. Daggers and brimstone ! 
 you've got blue ribbons in your hair again. Now how often 
 have I told you I hate blue ribbons ? 
 
 Confound it, girl, why will you irritate me in this unbear- 
 able manner? 
 
 Countess. Dear my Lord, be calm. 
 
 Touch. Calm, madam, calm ? I am calm, perfectly 
 calm, di ! di ! diahoJicaUy calm, madam. Razors and rapiei"s ! 
 calm, caltn indeed ! Ha ! 
 
 Lady I. (aside.) The old Turk ! 
 
 Helena. Blue sweetly symbolizes the Arcadian firmament, 
 papa. 
 
 Touch. Arcadian fiddlestick ! 
 
 (Sound of hoofs, off L. Boggs looks out of garden gate, C.) 
 
 DE P, A charming seat you have here, my Lord, 
 2 
 
14 A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 
 
 Touch. Abominably inconvenient, I can assure you. 
 Poor shooting, too, all through the county. 
 
 Countess {aside to Lady I.) What do you think of de 
 Portment ? 
 
 Lady I. A polished clam-shell ! 
 
 BoGGS {from gateway.) My Lord, Sir Harry Sangfroid is 
 coming h'up the h'avenue at full canter. 
 
 Touch. Better that than empty oTecanter, I suppose. 
 
 BE P. {clapping his hands elegantly.) Ha, ha, ha. Very 
 good, my Lord, capital. 
 
 {All laugh.) 
 
 Lady I. (aside.) What an elephantine joke ! 
 
 Touch. Batherneat, wasn't it? I was always considered 
 famous at a pun. Ha, ha, ha. 
 
 Helena (aside.) Puns always did make me shiver ; they 
 are so commonplace. 
 
 Countess. Oh, I'm so glad Sir Harry is coming. He 
 always brightens us up so — like a, summer breeze. 
 
 Touch. Ugh ! Or a tornado. 
 
 Sir Harry {heard ivithout.) Blanket him well, Jerry; 
 he's steaming like a teakettle. Oh, we've had a splendid run. 
 
 Touch. Killing more horses ! He's always at it. 
 
 Sir H. (heard without.) Take care ! He is tender in 
 that off hind hoof. Ah, lass; cheeks as red as ever, eh? 
 Ha, ha, ha. Is your mistress within. Rosebud ? Ha, ha, 
 ha, ha. 
 
 (Enter., through gateway, C, Sir Harry., laughing.) 
 
 Countess. Welcome, Sir Harry; you know how charmed 
 we always are to see you. 
 
 Sir H. (kissing Countess's hand.) Ah, madam, you are 
 too kind. My Lord. 
 
 Touch. Glad to see you vSangfroid. 
 
 Countess. You know my Lady Ironsides? 
 
 Sir H. Oh, intimately. (Sir H. takes Lady I.^s hand and 
 attempts to raise it to his lips, but she draics it away and 
 bows severely.) . . . By reputation. 
 
 Lady Helena (kissing her hand), you grow more beau- 
 tiful each time I see you. 
 
 Touch, (aside.) So do cabbages. 
 
 Sir H. Ah, de Portment. 
 
 (de P. and Sir H. shake hands.) 
 
A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 15 
 
 Lady I. (aside.) A Iiorridly forward man ! 
 
 vSiR H. I miss one flower, Countess, even in so fair a gar- 
 den. Is Lady Sappho not here? 
 
 Countess. She is at the hike with Sir Meekly Ironsides. 
 They wanted to see the gold fish. 
 
 Helena. Yes; such tiny bits of living sunlight, ah ! 
 
 Sir H. Then must I keep one pleasure in anticipation. 
 
 Lady I. (to de P.) Do you know this butterfly? 
 
 DE P. Very well. A thoroughly good fellow, your lady- 
 ship, really. 
 
 Touch. Any news in the city. Sangfroid? 
 
 Sir H. Only that Benson has made up his books on 
 Czarina, and she is now quoted at one to five against the 
 field. 
 
 Touch. Egad ! You don't say so. The Duke of Devon- 
 shire will back her ; eh ? 
 
 Sir H. Oh, for all she's worth. 
 
 (Touchstone offers his snuff-box to Sir Harry ^ and they 
 both sniff ceremoniously .) 
 
 Lady I. (to de P.) I suppose that is " horse-talk ;" is it 
 not? 
 
 DE P. I suppose so. I am more familiar with mules my- 
 self. 
 
 Lady I. (aside.) More congenial I should imagine. 
 
 Countess. Sir Harry, do tell me about the de Lacy's 
 musical. Of course you were there ? 
 
 Sir H. Oil, of course. Well, there was a first movement 
 of a Bach, and a last movement of a Handel, and, as most of 
 the people had ^^one comfortably to sleep, they crashed out an 
 ov'erture from " Agrippina" to wake them up again. Ha, 
 ha, ha. 
 
 Countess. Ah, you naughty critic. Pla, ha, ha. Did 
 the " Agrippina" have the desired effect ? 
 
 Sir H. To be sure. On the principle of fighting fire with 
 fire. Your thorough artist will cure an attack of Handel 
 with a dose of Handel, even as a quack will cure madness 
 with the hair of the dog that bit you. 
 
 Countess. Ah, you droll fellow ! 
 
 Helena. So droll ! 
 
 Lady I. (to de P.) I wonder if he thinks that witty ? 
 
 DE P. Original, at least. 
 
16 A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 
 
 Sir II. But I assure you, my Lady, de Lacy's party was a 
 paragon of life compared with the Baron Gehitin's dinner. 
 Oh heaven ! 
 
 Touch, (aside.) Now Sangfroid is going to let off one of 
 his incredible stories. 
 
 Sir H. Why, if your Ladyship will credit me, there were 
 forty-two courses, and a different wine with each course. 
 
 Lady I. (aside.) A coarse affair! 
 
 DE P. (to Lady I.) Fortitude must have been a prevail- 
 ing virtue. 
 
 Countess. Forty-two ! 
 
 Sir H. Fact, my Lady. We worked incessantly for four 
 hours, and only got as far as the entrees. 
 
 Helena. I cry you mercy! What a grievous bore ! 
 
 Touch. We pronounce it " boire" in French, girl. 
 
 DE p. Oh ! 
 
 Lady I. (aside.) Another elephantine joke ! 
 
 Countess. And was it stupid? 
 
 Sir H. Stupid ? Ye gods ! The Prime Minister spoke for 
 eight hours on . . . 
 
 Countess. Eight hours ! 
 
 Sir tj. By the watch. 
 
 Touch, (aside.) Blood and bodkins ! How superbly he lies ! 
 
 Sir H. Eight hours, madam. And the little pages went 
 around, with the game, to unloose the stocks of the British 
 aristocracy ere they suffocated from excess of loyalty. 
 
 Touch, (aside.) Superb ! He has reduced it to a fine art. 
 
 Lady I. A specimen, I suppose, of a gentlemen's party. 
 Had there been women present you would have had more 
 brains and less speech making. 
 
 Sir H. Perhaps, madam. 
 
 Lady I. "Perhaps," sir ? I say undoubtedly, sir. Women 
 cannot much longer be excluded from her rights. 
 
 Helena. To go to dinners ? How material, ah ! 
 
 Lady I. The signs of the times are unmistakable, sir ; and 
 suffragists have both tongues to speak and ears to hear, let me 
 tell you. 
 
 Sir H. I have no doubt as to the development of both those 
 organs, madam. 
 
 Touch, (aside.) Egad! he hits her hard. 
 
A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 17 
 
 Lady I. {satirically.') Sir, you are a wit. 
 Siii H. Madam, I tliank you. 
 
 {A scream is heard ojf R.) 
 Touch. Lightning and lunatics ! Wliat 's tlie matter now ? 
 Countess. Good heavens ! It was Sappho. 
 
 {Sir H. runs up stage. Enter Sappl/o hurriedly and drops 
 into Sir H.'s arms, li.) 
 
 Helena. Alack ! What bolt of Jove is this ? 
 
 Lady I. Ladies, be calm ! Let us remember that we are 
 women. Leave hysterics to silly men, I beg. 
 
 Helena (to Sappho.) Speak, sweet. 
 
 Sappho. Oh, heavy day ! Sir Meekly . . . 
 
 Lady L Eh ? 
 
 Sappho. Sir Meekly — oh ! 
 
 Countess. Heavens ! What of Sir Meekly ? 
 
 Sappho. Sir Meekly has — alas ! 
 
 Touch. Pills and perdition, girl! Sir Meekly has what? 
 
 Sappho. Has fallen into the fish-pond — oh ! 
 
 (She falls again into Sir HJs arms.) 
 
 Lady L Oli, is that all? 
 
 DE P. (aside.) What an undignified proceeding.! 
 
 Touch. Ye gods ! Then let 's get him out. 
 
 (He turns to li. and looks off.) 
 
 Countess. Oh hurry, somebody. 
 
 Touch. No ; it 's all right. Boggs has got him out and is 
 fetching him in a wheelbarrow. Egad ! he looks a bit uncom- 
 fortable. Ha, ha, ha. 
 
 Helena. A wheelbarrow ! How disgustingly modern ! 
 
 Sappho. Is he saved ? Ah ! 
 
 Lady I. (to Sappho.) Young lady, if you propose to swoon 
 again just take a fresh gentleman. Sir Harry looks tired. 
 
 Siu H. On the contrary, I could wish Sir Meekly would 
 remain in the fish-pond for a week. 
 
 Lady I. Sir ! 
 
 Sir H. That is, if he didn't take cold. 
 
 (Enter, R., Boggs pushing Sir M. in a wheelbarrow. He is 
 dripping with water and seems exiiaasted.) 
 
 DE P. How disagreeably moist ! 
 
 2* 
 
1^ 
 
 A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 
 
 J^Boggs wheels harrow to doorsteps. Sir H. and Touch, assist 
 Sir M. to rise.) 
 
 Sir M. [sitting up in harrow. ) W nearly f food for f fishes. 
 Boo 'oh ! 
 
 Lady I. {^dramatically.) Take him in and dry him ! 
 
 DE PORTMENT. 
 
 
 Lady Ironsides. 
 
 * 
 
 Helena. 
 
 * 
 
 Countess. 
 * 
 
 BOGGS. 
 
 * 
 
 Sappho. Touchstone. 
 * * 
 
 Sir Meekly. 
 
 * 
 
 Sir Harry. 
 
 * 
 
 
A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 19 
 
 ACT SECOND. 
 
 Scene — Same as in Act First. Time, the afternoon and 
 evening, 
 
 (^Helena and Sappho enter from X.) 
 
 Helena. It may be very imprudent in me, sweet, but my 
 Lord de Portment was so pressing, and I have promised to 
 givehim an interview in the gai'den so soon as the moon is up. 
 Tlie rest will be well settled at their cards by then, you know. 
 
 Sappho. Ah, so imprudent! Ah, how /should like to be 
 imprudent too ! Just a little, you know, ah ! 
 
 Helena. Stolen grapes always set the teeth on edge, but 
 then . . . 
 
 Sappho. Moral dyspepsia is such a trifling ill, ah ! 
 
 Helena. Melhinks Sir Harry, — ah, I caught you blush- 
 ing, sweet ! 
 
 Sappho. A rose-tint on a cloud. The reflection of your 
 foolish jest upon my frown ! 
 
 Helena. What a poetical conceit. Whei-e did you get it? 
 
 Sappho. From Herrick, dear. I learned it by rote so as 
 to have it ready for an emergency. 
 
 Helena. Now, if Sir Harry should ever make a foolish 
 jest ... 
 
 Sappho. Go to ! You tease me, Helena. 
 
 Helena. No, on my faith. . I overheard him speaking to 
 my own Corinthian-browed de Portment about a little scheme 
 to send you a letter. 
 
 Sappho. Ha ! 
 
 Helena. Nay, 'tis true. A letter asking yoii to meet him 
 in the garden. Methinks he loves you, Sappho. 
 
 Sappho. Ah, can this be true? And yet I hardly know 
 whether I should desii"e it. Lady Ironsides says that love is 
 so enervating. 
 
 Helena. So is summer ; and yet methinks eternal winter 
 would scarcely suit our complexion. Has Lady Ironsides said 
 much to you, Sappho ? 
 
20 A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 
 
 Sappho. Oli, yes, she has been telling me some wondrous 
 thin<i^s. She says it is proven historically that the Creator first 
 made woman out of some particles of pure Celestial brain, and 
 that afterwards, finding an inferior creature necessary, he 
 evolved man from a toad. (a pause.) 
 
 Helena. How fortunate tliat there ■?/'ere toads, wasn't it ? 
 Else what in the world should have become of us all ? 
 
 Sappho. I asked Lady Ironsides that, and she replied that 
 we should have lived in a beatific condition of absolute will. 
 She is a great woman on the will, dear ! 
 
 Helena. Superb! But upon her theory what becomes of 
 tliat ancient story of the rib and . . . ? 
 
 Sappho. An anatomical soap-bubble, invented by man to 
 cheat woman out of the suffrage ! Woman made out of *a rib 
 indeed ! Lady L-onsides says you might as well tell her that 
 bon-bons were made out of sausages. 
 
 Helena. Booh ! what an odious comparison ! Plas Lady 
 Ironsides indeed made a convert of you, Sappho ? 
 
 vSappho. Faith, I hardly know. I think I shall become a 
 disciple of " the cause," as she terms it. But I have just 
 embroidered a handkerchief for Sir Harry. Ivy leaves, sweet. 
 Symbolical, you know. And it will never do to appear incon- 
 sistent. I am going to be terribly severe with him soon, but I 
 should really like to iiear what he has to say first. 
 
 Helena. In the garden, eh ? But hark ! I hear voices. 
 Let us within. See how the fiery chariot of the day fiings part- 
 ing glories from his flying wheels. Let us go to an upper window 
 where our souls may draw an inspiration from the setting sun. 
 
 Sappho. Yes . . . and dress for dinner, sweet. 
 (^Exeunt to house Helena and Sappho.) 
 
 {^Enter, C, through garden gateway, Sir Harry and Lord de 
 Portment.) 
 
 Sir H. It's all up, my dear de Portment ; I've been for 
 eight and forty hours trying to find out how many times ten 
 will go into five ; and I really can't figure it out ; pon my honor 
 I can't. Ha, ha, ha. 
 
 DE P. Will you kindly inform me what you intend to con- 
 vey by the expression, " it's all up" ? 
 
 Sir H. a mere figure of speech. A metaphorical allusion 
 to bankruptcy. Ha, ha, ha. I'm absolutely done for . . . 
 
A REFORxMER IN RUFFLES. 21 
 
 DE P. Horror ! " Done for?" 
 
 Sir H. Absolutely. Taken in — squeezed — scuttled ! 
 Liabilities run into five figures. Assets zero, with a minus 
 mark thrown in. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. 
 
 DE P. Good heavens ! Do you mean that you are . . . ? 
 
 Sir H. I do. Ruined. Tliat's the word. You see Tam- 
 erlane broke within fifty rods of the winning-post — I had four 
 thousand on him. Then Lord Fitz-Maurice got me badly at 
 the Duchess of Lanville's card party, and when 1 tried to square 
 up with Fitz-Maurice, by doubling my stake on Lady Fleet- 
 wood . . . 
 
 DE P. Stake on Lady Fleetwood ? 
 
 Sir H. Yes. She was so splendidly dammed — 
 
 DE P. Sir ! 
 
 Sir H. That I thought I could count on her staying quali- 
 ties, and . . . 
 
 DE P. I beg pardon, Sir Harry. Did I understand you 
 to refer to the spiritual condition of Lady Fleetwood ? 
 
 Sir H. Spiritual con . . . Ha, ha, ha. Why she's a mare, 
 de Portment. 
 
 DE P. Oh ! 
 
 Sir H. Then, to crown all, I backed the red cards for three 
 thousand guineas at Benson's on Tuesday, and I assure you 
 it was perfectly ludicrous to see every bit of pasteboard turn 
 up black during the rest of the evening. Ha, ha, ha. It was 
 just the funniest thing I ever saw. Ha, ha, ha. 
 
 DE P. How can you be so disgustingly light-hearted ? 
 
 Sir H. Disgustingly light-pursed you ougiit to say. How- 
 ever, my Lady Touchstone's Madeira will taste none the worse 
 for that, eh, de Portment? 
 
 DE P. By the way, speaking of the Touchstones, I think 
 you could be of service to me there, if you would. 
 
 Sir H. Delighted, iny dear fellow, delighted. Only speak 
 the word. I'll storm a bastion, blow up the grand Turk, or 
 — or— 
 
 De P. Notiiing quite so heroic is requisite. I want your 
 influence with the Countess, that is all. I know you are a 
 great favorite with her, and I am sure you can plead my 
 cause. 
 
 Sir H. Plead your cause ? . . . 
 
22 A REFORMKR IN RUFFLES. 
 
 DE P. Yes. You may perhaps not be aware that I aspire 
 to the hand of the Lady Helena, her daughter. 
 
 Sir H. {aside.) The devil ! 
 
 DE P. An angel, sir ; a very angel . . . 
 
 Sir H. So I was just saying to myself . . . 
 
 DE P. One capable ol' turning this grovelling sphere of 
 earth into a paradise. 
 
 Sir H. Yes. They are all capable of doing that — ^just 
 before marriage. 
 
 DE P. Ah, Sir Harry, you little know how much loveli- 
 ness . . . 
 
 Sir H. Can be packed in one woman, like gherkins in 
 a pint bottle. Is that it, de Portment? But pardon me. 
 
 DE P. In a word, I desire you to speak for me to the 
 Countess. 
 
 Sir H. a kind of double proxy arrangement, eh ? 
 
 DE P. A facetious tongue might perhaps term it so. I 
 assure you, Sir Harry, you will be conferring a favor which I 
 shall not forget. And, by the way, I have an idea. 
 
 Sir H. (aside.) Egad ! I should never have suspected it. 
 
 DE P. You spoke awhile ago of some trifling loans which 
 you wished to negotiate with Isaacs. Now, if you will permit 
 me to arrange the matter for you . . . 
 
 Sir H. My dear de Portment, I really couldn't think of 
 it. You are quite too kind. 
 
 DE P. Pray, say no more. It is only a fair reciprocal 
 arrangement, and if you succeed you will gain for me a boon 
 worth many times all I shall secure for you. 
 
 Sir H. Sir, I shall exliaust my eloquence. 
 
 DE P. Tiien I regard my suit as won. Lady Touchstone's 
 preference for you is marked. I am sure you can win her con- 
 sent, and as to the JLarl I think in this matter he will be 
 guided by my Lady. So you see how much depends upon you.. 
 
 Sir H. Trust me to do my best. But the effort required 
 will not be great. I overheard Lady Touchstone tell J^ady 
 Ironsides how highly she esteemed you, and how deliglited 
 she always was to receive you here, (aside.) Heaven forgive 
 me. 
 
 DE P. You surprise me, and I need not add gratify me 
 beyond expression. You really think the Countess favors me? 
 
A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 23 
 
 Sir H. Favors you ? Dotes on you, de Portment. (aside.) 
 I may as well make my devil big enough ! 
 
 DE P. Well, to be frank, I thought I saw marks of more 
 than ordinary appreciation, but yet I almost feared to broach 
 the vsubject of my attachment for the Lady Helena until . . . 
 
 Sir H. Until you knew your ground. Quite right, my 
 dear sir. I'll prepare the way for you. But you'll find none 
 but friends in the camp. There, for instance, is my Lady 
 Ironsides. 
 
 DE P. Ay, what of her ? 
 
 Sir H. Captivated with you, my Lord. Absolutely carried 
 away. Told me confidentially that if there was one man in the 
 world who could lead her to renounce the cause of woman suf- 
 frage, that man was Lord de Portment ! 
 
 De p. Most extraordinary ! 
 
 Sir H, Quite so, indeed. 
 
 DE P. But Lady Ironsides struck me as being rather a 
 severe woman, rather disposed to masculinity 
 
 Sir H, Oh, not at all, not at all. The gentlest of her sex ! 
 With me she was absolutely shrinking, {aside.') Deucedly 
 so, by Jove ! 
 
 DE P. And she was pleased with me ? 
 
 Sir H. Were it not for Sir Meekly, I should call it by a 
 tenderer name, but . 
 
 DE P. Ye gods ! can it be possible ? Why she spoke to 
 me about certain pamphlets on the " Tyranny of Man" and 
 other amiable subjects. 
 
 Sir H. Ah, do you not understand ? Man's tyranny over 
 the weak and susceptible heart of woman ! Could you not take a 
 hint ? Ah, some lucky fellows actually have to liave a woman's 
 aflt'ections thrust upon them ! 
 
 DE P. Oh, I see it all. This is, indeed, a revelation ! 
 
 Sir H. Quite so, indeed. Lady Ironsides told me in con- 
 fidence that she dared not look at you when you smiled. She 
 said your smile was a burst of sunlight ! 
 
 DE P. Strange, strange. 
 
 Sir H. 'Tis the brilliancy of your wit, the splendor of your 
 physique, that have done it all. I overheard both ladies refer 
 to you in those particulars. 
 
 DE P. And they were enthusiastic? 
 
24 A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 
 
 Sir H. Rapturous ! (^aside.) Egad, I think I'm even with 
 my lady of the suffrage association now. 
 
 DE P. My dear Sir Harry, let me beg of you to keep this 
 discovery to yourself. I must be discreet, but still I would not 
 absolutely crush a confiding heart. Lady Ironsides, it is true, 
 is not young 
 
 Sir H. {douhtfulhj.) W no. 
 
 DE P. But then she's not exactly old . 
 
 Sir H. {decisively.) No. 
 
 DE P. And she would do for practice pending your suit, in 
 my behalf, for the Lady Helena. 
 
 Sir H. Ah, cruel Adonis ! 
 
 DE P. No, I would not be cruel; indeed, I would not; but 
 then what can a man do? 
 
 Sir H. True; 'tis hard. But let me beg of you not to use 
 that fatal smile. 
 
 DE P. Well, I'll see about it. And now I'll let you into 
 a secret. Helena is to give me a tete-a-tete this evening. 
 
 Sir H. Here? 
 
 DE P. Here. 
 
 Sir H. Better act by proxy. 
 
 DE P. You ? 
 
 Sir H. L 
 
 DE P. Hum. 
 
 Sir H. Be sure of your ground, you know. 
 
 DE P. Thanks ; but there are occasions when principals are 
 better than attorneys. 
 
 Sir H. Quite so indeed. 
 
 DE P. I will meet Helena ; but do you press my cause with 
 the Countess. Meanwhile I '11 keep myself in practice with 
 old Lady IronsidCvS — that is — I mean — 
 
 Sir H. Ripe womanhood ! 
 
 DE P. Exactly. But it is growing dusk, and I must be 
 back in season for the Earl's whist-table this evening. We 
 shall meet then, I trust ? 
 
 Sir 11. Oh, of course. Remember! 
 
 DE P. Hist ! Be eloquent. Au revoir. 
 
 Sir H. Farewell, cruel, cruel Adonis ! 
 
 i^Exit de P. through gateway, C.) 
 
 Sir H. (solus.) Now if I haven't put a pretty little bee 
 
A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 25 
 
 into de Portment's bonnet and a pretty little wasp into my 
 Lady Ironsides' reticule, my name is never Sangfroid. Ha, 
 ha, ha. Egad! I 'd like to hear him make love to the old girl. 
 Oh, ho, ho, ho. 
 
 But I must think of myself. I tnust see Sappho, and I am 
 sure this note will bring her if I can only get it delivered. But 
 how? Ah, what is that? {Looks off, R.) By Jove! A 
 winged Mercury in the shape of Boggs ; the very messenger I 
 need. 
 
 {Enter R., Hoggs pushing barroio.") 
 
 Stop, my good man. I want you to do me a favor. 
 
 Boggs. At your worship's service. 
 
 Sir H. {giving him note.) I wish my Lady Sappho to re- 
 ceive this immediately. And I don't desire that any one shoidd 
 see it delivered. You understand me. {giving him money.) 
 This for your trouble. I know you can be silent. 
 
 Boggs. Mum as a Yarmouth bloater, Sir 'Arry. And a 
 thousand thanks, Sir 'Any. {puts note in his hat.) 
 
 Sir H. Be prompt and you shall not regret it. 
 
 {Exit Sir H. through gateway, C.) 
 
 Boggs. {solus.') 'e be a gentleman after my own 'eart, and 
 it would be a 'appy day if Lady Sappho did take likings to 'im. 
 I caught sight of her but now at the side window, and I '11 man- 
 age to slip her the letter as soon as I put away the barrow; it 
 were jolly wet with Sir Meekly's drainings, but I 've dried it 
 out in the sun. He, he, he. Gad, but Sir Meekly are the 
 most unfortunatest gentleman ever I see. But my Lady 
 Meekly! Stars and garters! She be enough for two. Hi, hi. 
 
 ( Wheels barrow off, L.) 
 
 {Enter from house Sir Meekly.) 
 
 Sir M. {solus.) I 've got over my c' chill and feel c' com- 
 paratively c' comfortable ; but I wish Lady Ironsides would not 
 set me to spying. H' here she says that she knows there 's 
 something in the w' wind, and that I 've got to w' watch out- 
 side the g' garden wall. 
 
 Wonderful w' woman for finding things out. P' powerful 
 creature ; powerful c' creature ! 
 
 {Exit through qateioay, C.) 
 3 
 
26 A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 
 
 (Enter i?., Boggs.') 
 
 BoGGS. (sohis.) Now, then, for the letters, (takes fotir 
 letters from his hat.) Two of 'em came by the post — one for 
 Lady Ironsides and one for my Lord. Then there 's the one 
 that Sir 'Any told me to give to Lady vSappho, and the one 
 that my Lord writ to the tailor. Egad ! I ought to have give 
 that to the post ; but I forgot, and it '11 have to wait till morn- 
 ing. " Boggs," says the H'earl, " deliver that immejit." That 's 
 what they all say. " Yes, my Lord," says I, and that 's the end 
 on it till I think of the matter again. Now, by the saints ! 
 which is which ? Whew ! here 's a stew ! My early educa- 
 tion didn't extend to readin' handwritin', more-'s the pity, and 
 I '11 be blessed if I know t'other from which ! 'Ere 's one with 
 nothin' on the cover ; and 'ere 's another that has somethin' on 
 it like a stroke of black lightning. Egad ! 1 '11 have to take 
 chances, and leave the rest to 'eaven. 
 
 Touchstone (within.) Boggs, Boggs. 
 
 Boggs. Oh, law ! Yes, my Lord. 
 
 (Enter f 7-0 m house, Touchstone.) 
 
 Touch. Where the d , oh, there you are. 
 
 Boggs. Yes, my Lord. A letter for you, my Lord, (giving 
 letter.) 
 
 Touch. Well, give it me, and then be off with you, and 
 tell Edward to have the dogs ready to-morrow at seven. Do 
 you hear ! 
 
 Boggs. Yes, my Lord. 'Eaven send it be the right one ! 
 
 (Exit, Boggs, L.) 
 
 Touch, (tearing open letter.) What a fool that man is I 
 Never about when he is wanted. Eh ! eh ! What's all this ? 
 (reading) " old brute, the Earl of Touchstone." Sulphur and 
 Lucifer ! That's me ! me ! " Don't see how you can breathe 
 the same air with such a monster." Oh, I'll choke ! " Male 
 termagant!" Me, again! Ha! I'll choke! Whose letter 
 is this? Mrs. Amadeus Hector, as I live (referring to cover), 
 and addressed to Lady Ironsides. I never glanced at the su- 
 pei'scription. That stupid owl has given me the wrong letter. 
 Tigers and traitors ! Let me — ha! I shall suffocate. "Male 
 termagant." I — a man of my equable temperament! Vil- 
 lainous ! That's the way my hospitality is abused. Villain- 
 
A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 27 
 
 ous ! Oh lio, I'll deliver this myself. I'll tell my Lady Iron- 
 sides, I'll — I'll — boo-oli. 
 
 {Exit to house.) 
 
 (Enter, L., Boggs.) 
 
 BoGGS (solus.) A quick job, and a neat one. I slipped 
 Lady Sappho's letter into her 'and at the window, and nobody 
 saw, and that's what Sir 'Arry wanted. Then I met my Lady 
 Ironsides takin' her constitutional on the terrace, and I gave 
 her hers. I 'ope I've made no mistake. A mixin' up might 
 be onpleasant all 'round. 
 
 (Looking off, L.) 
 
 Oh, 'ere she comes. Egad ! She looks sort o' h'agitated. I 
 guess I'll go down to the kennels a bit. 
 
 (Exit, R.) 
 
 (Enter furiously, L., Lady Ironsides, with an open letter in 
 her hand.) 
 
 Lady I. Oh, monstrous ! monstrous ! To me ! A woman 
 of my catibre ! A love-letter to me I The man must be a fool. 
 And signed, too, " Lovingly, Harry !" Oh, oh, I'll — Harry 
 him! Insolent repro . . . 
 
 Touch, (within.) Bait and spring-traps ! Let me find her. 
 Let me — oh . . . 
 
 (Enter Toiich, from house.) 
 
 Let me just . . . By Jupiter ! Ha! 
 
 Lady I. Hai Oh ! I've been looking for you, sir . . . 
 
 Touch. And I for you, madam. Let me tell you . . . 
 
 Lady I. Let me tell you, sir, that . . . 
 
 Touch. By heaven ! I'll not endure it, my Lady, I'll 
 not . . . 
 
 Lady I. Endure ! Ha ! ha, ha. Is your Lordship aware 
 that you are harboring a traitor within your domestic circle? 
 
 Touch. Yes, by my head ! I'm r^^e// aware of it. Exactly 
 the word — a traitor. I come to deliver you your letter, ma- 
 dam, ha! Your letter, there . . . 
 
 Lady I. My letter? Hold! I have my letter, and a 
 pretty letter it is ! Insolent rascal to write me such . . . 
 
 Touch. Audacious gibberish! "Monster," " Male ter- 
 magant." Ha ! 
 
28 A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 
 
 Lady I. A love letter to me ! Oh, I shall burst ! 
 
 Touch. By heaven ! I ant. bursting ! 
 . Lady L {reading.') " Fair charmer: The exquisite handi- 
 work of your fingers has given me hope. Meet me in the 
 garden before the moon is too high. I long to hear from 
 your own rosy lijis what I cannot but believe is in your heart. 
 Lovingly, Harry." 
 
 Touch. Eh ! What, what, what ! 
 
 Lady I. Boo-oh ! " Harry !" That scamp, Sir Harry 
 Sangfroid, of course. Oh, wait till I see him ! 
 
 {It begins to grow dark.) 
 
 Touch. He wrote this to you — to you, Lady Ironsides ? 
 
 Lady I. Ay, to me ! 
 
 Touch. He tnust be a fool! 
 
 Lady I. " Rosy lips," indeed ! 
 
 Touch. Oh, an ass — an idiot ! 
 
 Lady L " Exquisite handiwork !" A foolscap, I suppose. 
 Oh, but I'll be revenged. The man's a villain. Look to your 
 Countess, Lord Touchstone, look to your Countess. 
 
 Touch. Demons and darkness ! AVhat do you mean ? 
 
 Lady I. Insidious coxcomb I 
 
 Touch. And what does tliis letter mean, madam ? This 
 precious epistle from Mrs. Hector? I'm "a brute," am 1? 
 Ha! 
 
 Lady I. Mrs. Hector? {she takes letter.) Permit me to 
 compliment your Lordship on your skill in breaking seals. 
 
 Touch. An accident, an accident. But look at the con- 
 tents. . . . Perdition ! look at the contents. 
 
 Lady I. At my leisure, sir. Look to your Countess. 
 Traitors are traitors, sir. 
 
 Touch. Zounds! So I've discovered, madam. "A brute!" 
 Pish ! " A monster !" 
 
 (It grows dark.) 
 
 Lady I. " Fair charmer !" " Eosy lips !" Ha ! the wretch! 
 
 Touch. Aha! Knives and napkins ! "Brute!" Bah! 
 ( Toi(c]i. 1-usfies out through gateicay, G.) 
 
 Lady I. " Lovingly, Harry !'' Villain! Ha! 
 
 {Lady I. rushes off, R.) 
 
 Sir Meekly {peering over garden wall.) I w' wonder 
 w' what it's all about. 
 
A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 29 
 
 (^ Enter, R., Boggs. Sir AI.^s head disappears behind wall.) 
 
 BoGGS (^reflectively.) I tliink somethin's wrong. Lady 
 H'ironsides have got her war paint on, as sure as eggs is eggs ! 
 
 ( Moonlight effect.) 
 
 She near upset me ! Jemima ! what a speed she has on, 
 to be sure. Rushed past me like a pack at full cry, and never 
 saw me. 
 
 I have a undescribable forebodin' that I've mixed them 
 letters up. Egad ! I pity the one who gets the tailor's ; and I 
 pity myself when the H'earl finds out about it. Oh, Boggs, 
 Boggs, why /wasn't you educated to read writin' ? 
 
 {Exit, R.) 
 
 (Enter, L. U. E., Sir Harry and Sappho.) 
 
 Sappho. Is it not beautiful ? Each humblest shrub a 
 point of tender light. Each drop of dew a pearl that holds the 
 moon. 
 
 Sir H. Yet no pearl's light so mimics the soft moon as do 
 the eyes of one who calls them fair. 
 
 Sappho. What one, Sir Harry ? 
 
 Sir H. Oh, t'were hard to guess. Yet, if you'll keep a 
 secret, I'll be frank, and say I name her Sappho. 
 
 Sappho. Oh, you confuse me. But since you will praise, 
 do I look better with a bang or no ? 
 
 Sir H. With anything that leaves you Sappho still. 
 
 Sappho (aside.) How glad I am I embroidered him that 
 handkerchief. 
 
 Sir H. My note was sent so late, I almost feared me that 
 you would not come. 
 
 Sappho. Indeed it was late ; and, to speak truth, I have 
 not yet had time to read the note. You came upon its very 
 heels, and so I thrust it in my dress, unopened. 
 
 Sir H. Ah ? Well, it was but a faint expression of my 
 truest thought, and referred to your fair handiwork — the 
 lovely handkerchief with ivy leaves. 
 
 Sappho. A trifle. Shall you dance to-night? 
 
 Sir H. Perhaps. I hope your fair cousin Helena will not 
 be so cruel as to deny de Portment a quadrille. 
 
 Sappho. I suppose not. She is in the drawing-room, now, 
 — busily crocheting a bouquet holder, all. 
 
 3* 
 
30 A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 
 
 Sir H. Within the drawing-room — and on so lovely a 
 night? 
 
 Sappho. Oh yes. Helena never exposes herself to the 
 night air. 
 
 Sir H. Indeed. 
 
 {Exeimt K. U. E.) 
 
 {Sir Meekly'' s head appears over garden wall. Enter, R. 1 E., 
 
 de Portment and Helena. Sir Meekly's head suddenly dis- 
 appears.) 
 
 DE P. And do you give all your confidences to Lady 
 Sappho ? 
 
 Helena. Not quite all. Dear Sai)pho's health is so fragile 
 that she can't sympathize with all my recreations, you know. 
 She never can go even near tlie window after dark. Poor 
 Sappho ! 
 
 DE P. It must indeed be a deprivation. 
 
 Helena. Yes, she never knew iiow beautiful is moonlight 
 under the open sky. She is playing at chess at this moment 
 with papa. 
 
 de p. Quite a check to happiness. 
 
 Helena. Yes, or to your opponent's king. Do you read 
 poetry, my Lord ? 
 
 DE P. I revel in it, sweet lady. Poetry to me is the final 
 expression of the heart's ambition . . . 
 
 Helena. Ah ! 
 
 DE P. The sweetest cliord in the harmony of the spheres . . 
 
 Helena. Oh-h ! 
 
 DE P. The very essence of love's rarest flower. 
 
 Helena. Ah-h-h ! 
 
 (Exeunt R. U. E.) 
 
 Sir M. {peering over wall.) P' paradise boiled d' down ! 
 
 [Suddenly ducks his head.) 
 
 (Enter L. U. E., Sir Harry and Sappho.) 
 
 Sir H. So soon ? Ah, Sappho, you are like those Eastern 
 queens who reign but to be cruel. Why must you go so soon? 
 
 Sappho. I shall be missed ; and then, you know, dear 
 Helena must be so lonely. 
 
 Sir H. True. But I am hardly unselfish enough to think 
 of her just now. 
 
A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 81 
 
 Sappho. Adieu. 
 
 Sir H. Say rather au revoir. In half an hour I shall see 
 you in the drawing-room. 
 
 Sappho. Oh, 'twill be half a week. My pent up heart 
 dare trust itself no more ; but time drags like a laggard till you 
 come. Love is so peremptory. 
 
 Sir H. And so passing fair. 
 
 Sappho. And all the heart so sweetly sanguine. Ah ! — 
 Is my hair mussed? 
 
 Sir H. Not a bit. 
 
 Sappho. Farewell. {He kisses her on the forehead.) 
 
 Sir M. {peering over wall.) Oh-h-h ! 
 
 (Ducks his head suddenly.) 
 {Exit Sappho to honse.) 
 
 {Enter, i?. U. E., de Portment and Helena. They cross the 
 stage at back. At centre de P. bends oi'fer Helena, and Sir 
 Harry covers his face with his hat and skips behind bushes 
 at L. Then exeunt de P. and Helena at L. U. E) 
 
 {Enter from house Countess, witJi opera cloak over her arm.) 
 
 Countess {calling.) Helena, Helena. Where can she have 
 gone? It's growing chill, and I must seek her. Helena! 
 
 {Exit Countess, R. U. E.) 
 
 Sir H. {coming out froyn bushes.) Egad! This is my op- 
 portunity to do de Portment a double service. I'll give him a 
 chance for five more words with Helena, and follow the 
 Countess to plead his cause for him according to promise. 
 Fate favors us to a charm. 
 
 {Exit Sir H., B. U. E.) 
 
 {Enter L. U. E., de Portment and Helena.) 
 Helena. Indeed, my Lord, 'tis growing late, and I thought 
 
 I heard mamma calling. 
 
 DE P. Only the screeching of an early owl, I — I mean the 
 trill of an early nightingale. Do not go, sweet Helena. 
 
 Helena. Indeed I must. Dear Sappho must be so tired 
 of that game of chess. Poor Sappho, she little knows how 
 sweet a thing is love, ah— h ! 
 
 de p. Little indeed. 
 
 {de P. kneels on one knee at steps, and kisses her hand.) 
 
32 A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 
 
 Helena. Alas! So brief ! Adieu. 
 DE P. Adieu. 
 
 {Exit Helena to house.) 
 Sir M. {over wall.) Oh-h-li ! 
 
 {Ducks his head.) 
 
 {Enter, R. U. E., Sir Harry and Countess. He is in the act of 
 putting cloak around her shoulders, de Portment covers his 
 face with his hat, and skips behind bushes at L.) 
 
 Sir H. My dear Countess, you know that I am a loyal 
 friend, and I would fain speak for de Portment as for myself. 
 Will you not sit here for a moment ? 
 
 Countess. For a moment. The night is so charming. 
 
 Sir H. Pray let me draw your cloak closer. 'Tis some- 
 what chilly. So. 
 
 DE P. {from bushes, aside.) By Jove ! Splendid ! What 
 a tactician he is ! He pleads for me like a hero. I'll retire. 
 I am sure she'll yield before his eloquence. 
 
 {Exit L.) 
 
 Countess. And do you think my Lord de Portment really 
 all he pretends to be ? 
 
 Sir H. So far as position is concerned — yes. As for his 
 affection 
 
 Countess. Oh, that's a matter of no account whatever. 
 Helena will do very nicely without affection; but to marry 
 beneath her would be absolute ruin, you know. 
 
 Sir Harry. Quite so, indeed. But de Portment stands 
 well ; hob-nobs at the best clubs, and is received by the Dev- 
 on shires. 
 
 Countess. Ahem ! That's a point in his favor ; but he 
 goes to the Boodles. 
 
 Sir Harry. Only incidentally, I assure you. He avoided 
 dancing with Clarissa Boodles on her fete-day, and only led 
 Lady Boodles through one figure of the minuet. {Aside.) A 
 lie, but for friendship's sake. 
 
 Countess. I am glad he had so much discretion. Does 
 he pay his wagers well ? 
 
 Sir H. Like a man. 
 
 Countess. And is popular at the races? 
 
 Sir H. Quite so, indeed. 
 
A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 33 
 
 Countess {rejleciively.) Hum. 
 
 SiK M. (aside, peering over ivaU.) Oh, li' heaven ! He's 
 g 'got the C Countess now ! (disappears.) 
 
 Sir M. All I ask is that you will give de Poitment a 
 chance to present his credentials, and I ask it for my sake. 
 
 Countess (softening.) Ah ! 
 
 Sir H. The attitude of a suppliant would perhaps move 
 you (falling on one knee.) You see how humility may have 
 its power, eh, my Lady? (he takes her hand.) 
 
 (Sir M. appears in gatetvay endeavoring to hear what is said.) 
 
 Countess. Ah, you hypocrite! You well know how ready 
 I always am to listen to your prayers. 
 
 Sir M. (aside.) The deuce ! 
 
 Sir H. And I am sure I shall not now sue in vain. 
 
 Sir M. (aside.) Oh, by G' George ! I can't stand this. I'll 
 run and t' tell Lord T' Touchstone. 
 
 (Ejcit throvgh gatetvay.) 
 
 Countess. Well, perhaps not. Mind, I only say joer/?fK/»s. 
 I tell you frankly that I don't like Lord de Portment, but if 
 you think he'll be very discreet . 
 
 Sir H. Oh, my life on it ! 
 
 Countess. And will not call upon Helena oftener than 
 once a fortnight 
 
 Sir H. I promise it. 
 
 Countess. And will only touch her hand in salutation 
 
 Sir H. He would never dream of more. 
 
 Countess. And will drop the Boodles . 
 
 Sir H. He wUl. 
 
 Countess. And cultivate the Devonshires . 
 
 Sir H. He shall. 
 
 Countess. Why then . . we'll think about it. 
 
 Sir H. Ah, I knew you would ; you are so kind, (rises.) 
 
 Countess. By the way. Sir Harry, I hear that Tamerlane 
 lost the race the other day. 
 
 Sir H. (slowly.) Y' yes. 
 
 Countess. 1 hope you had nothing staked on him? 
 
 Sir H. Not a penny! But I won heavily on Lady Fleet- 
 wood. 
 
 Countess. Excellent ! You are so lucky ! 
 
34 A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 
 
 SiK H. Oil, am I not ? Ha, ha, ha. But the funniest thing 
 was to see me squeeze Fitz Maurice at the Duchess of Lan- 
 ville's the other night. 
 
 Countess. Oh, I'm so glad; I hate Fitz Maurice. Ha, 
 ha, ha. 
 
 Sir H. Took him fairly for four thousand ! The finest run 
 of aces and kings your Ladyship ev^er beheld! Ha, ha, ha. 
 
 Cot'NTESS. Capital, capital ! But I am forgetting time. 
 I must go in to my guests. 
 
 Sir H. Forgive me for keeping you so long. But ere you 
 go, give me your linal promise for de Portment. 
 
 (^Oii one knee, taking her hand.) 
 
 {Enter through gateway, C, Sir Meekly and Lord Touchstone.) 
 
 Sir H. You know this is a question of the heart. 
 Touch. Fiends and . . . ! 
 
 {Sir M. places his hand over Touchstone' s mouth and motions 
 him to restrain himself.) 
 
 Sir H. And questions of the heart demand the gentlest 
 consideration. 
 
 Countess. Well, I will not deny so eloquent a plea, and 
 
 Sir H. Thanks. Though I feel that thanks are but a poor 
 return. 
 
 ( Touch, shakes hisjist at Sir Harry. Exeunt Touch, and Sir 
 M. through gateway.") 
 
 Sir H. Must you go in ? 
 
 Countess. Indeed I must. Will you not join our whist 
 to-night ? 
 
 Sir H. Right soon. 
 (^V H. hands Countess up steps to house. Exit Countess.) 
 
 {Enter, L. U. E., de Portment.) 
 
 de p. Ah, my dear Sir Harry, a thousand thanks. I heard 
 the beginning of your interview with her Ladyship, and there- 
 fore fear nothing for the end. 
 
 Sir H. I am glad to say your suit is won. The Countess 
 gives her consent to your paying your addresses to the Lady 
 Helena. 
 
A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 35 
 
 DE P. Without restrictions ? 
 
 Sir H. Well, she shouldn't like you to call oftener than 
 twice a day — just for the present. It will take a little time to 
 gain the Earl's consent, you know . . . 
 
 DE P. Oh, I'm not afraid of that. The Earl is, after all, 
 an easy-going man — at times really gentle, and . . . 
 
 {Enter through gateway, Sir M. and Touchstone?) 
 
 Touch, (^ferociously.) Furies and blue fire ! Here you 
 are, sir, at last. You infernal . . . you outrageous . . . 
 
 Sir H. Good heavens ! my Lord, what is tiie meaning of 
 this ? 
 
 Touch. You rascally traitor, you . . . 
 
 Sir H. Sir ! do you dare apply this language to me ? 
 
 Touch. Yes, sir, I do. Fiends and rockets! I do, sir. 
 I demand instant satisfaction, Sir Harry Sangfroid ; instant, 
 sir. 
 
 Sir H. Lord Touchstone, I have not the remotest idea 
 what the matter is ; but neither do I care to know. Your in- 
 sults are sufficient. I refer you to my friend, Lord de Port- 
 ment, who will arrange everything. 
 
 DE P. Honored, I am sure. I have a case of duellingr 
 pistols in the box of my coach . . . 
 
 Touch. Torches and turnbuckles ! Fetch them, sir, fetch 
 them. 
 
 (^Exit, L., de Portment.) 
 
 Sir Meekly will act as my second. 
 
 Sir M. {aside.) Oh, 1' law . . . I . . . I . . . 
 
 Touch. I have already despatched a messenger for a sur- 
 geon. 
 
 Sir M. (aside.) A 's surgeon ! Oh! m' mercy on us. 
 
 Touch. AVhat distance do you desire, Sir Harry? 
 
 Sir H. Nine paces, my Lord. 
 
 Touch. Good, sir, good; seven, if you like. 
 
 Sir M. {aside.) Kind h' heaven ! What a m' murderous 
 pair ! 
 
 Sir H. Anything to oblige your Lordship. Five, if you 
 choose. It's quite immaterial. 
 
 Sir M. (aside.) Boo-oh ! I wish I had s' said nothing. 
 My blood c' curdles ! 
 
36 A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 
 
 {Enter, L. U. E., de P. with case of pistols.) 
 
 DE P. Everything is in order, gentlemen. Moon bright; 
 no clouds ; and we can place you so tliat there will be no 
 shadow to interfere with a careful aim by both parties. There's 
 a fine bit of ground behind the ten-pin alley, where we can 
 have a nice quiet time. 
 
 Sir M. (^aside.) "Quiet." "Nice." I wish I was home. 
 
 DE P. Sir Meekly acts for you, 1 presume, my Lord? 
 
 Touch. Yes, sir. And be good enough to be quick. Shot 
 and sabres ! Quick ! 
 
 (rfe P. opens case and presents to Sir M.') 
 
 Sir M. (draiving back.) W what do you want of mef 
 (^aside.) I wish Lady Ironsides was here. 
 
 DE P. Your choice, Sir Meekly ; unless you desire to 
 superintend a reloading. 
 
 Sir M. Oh, n' not at all, n' not at all. 
 
 DE P. {bowing.) I pledge you my honor that both contain 
 double charges. 
 
 Sir M. (aside.) M' merciful jiowers ! 
 
 DE P. Your choice, sir. 
 
 (Sir M. timidly tales one of the pistols, and holds it at a dis- 
 tance ; de P. botes and presents the other pistol to Sir 
 Harry.) 
 
 Touch, (impatiently.) Hurry, Sir Meekly; hand over the 
 other iron, will you ? 
 
 Sir M. Y' yes, my Lord. (He hands Touch, pistol.) 
 DE P. All ready, gentlemen. 
 
 (aS'^V Harry and Touch, pass up, and stand bowing ceremo- 
 niously at gateway. Finally Touch, passes through ; then 
 Sir H. Sir M. and de P. do precisely the same, till finally 
 de P. passes through.) 
 
 Sir M. (sokes). Oh, h' horror ! This will make c' cold 
 m' meat of some of us ! 
 
 (Exit through gateway.) 
 
 (Enter, R. U. E., Boggs.) 
 
 BoGGS (solus.) Egad ! Now I'm szire there's somethin' 
 wrong (looking out.) There they go, the whole four. Four 
 together always means whist, or a duel ; and I'll swear they 
 
A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 37 
 
 wouldn't play whist by moonlight. Yes, they are making for 
 the ten-pin alley. Alack ! I'd better go down to pick up the 
 pieces. 
 
 {Exit through gateway.) 
 
 [Enter hastily from house, Sappho, ivith an open letter in her 
 
 hand.) 
 
 Sappho (sola.) Oh, oh ! Insulted ! Trampled upon ! 
 The monster! 7'his was his letter; this the letter which I 
 have been carrying around, thinking it was full of tenderness. 
 This the epistle I have pressed to my heart, even as Cleopatra 
 did the asp. He said I was like an Eastern queen. Vampire ! 
 And he told me the letter referred to my handiwork. Oh, oh, 
 hypocrite ! I could read the words even if there were no moon 
 (referring to letter.) " Idiot ! The next time you try to botch 
 a job of tailoring" — Oh, oh, he calls an embroidered hand- 
 kerchief a job of tailoring ! " Sharpen your owl's eyes by jab- 
 bing your shears into them." Oh, oh. " Conceited donkey !" 
 Oh, oh, oh. Fiend! fiend! Why is there not a thunderbolt? 
 Ha ! (Double report of pistol off left.) 
 
 (Enter hurriedly from house Countess, Helena, and Lady I.) 
 
 Helena. Gramercy ! What is this? 
 Countess. What's the matter? Where is Boggs ? 
 Helena (running to Sappho.) What is it, sweet? 
 Sappho. " Conceited donkey !" Oh ! 
 Helena. Great Juno! What? 
 
 Lady I. Ladies, be calm. Emotion is unseemly in our 
 sex. 
 
 (Enter at gateway Boggs.) 
 
 Countess. Speak, Boggs. What has happened ? 
 
 Boggs. The gentlemen have just settled a difference, your 
 Ladyship. 
 
 Countess. Good heavens ! A duel ? 
 
 Boggs. The same, my lady. My Lord and Sir 'Arry, my 
 Lady. 
 
 Helena (to Sappho.) How sweetly mediaeval, sweet. 
 
 Sappho. Sir Harry ! Oh, mercy! Is he hurt? 
 
 Boggs. Neither of the principals has got so much as a 
 scratch. 
 4 
 
38 A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 
 
 Sappho {to Helena.) That is quite modern, dear. 
 
 Helena. But the seconds? My Lord de Portment. Oh, 
 what of him ? 
 
 Countess. Boggs, be quicker. Don't keep us in this ter- 
 rible suspense, man. 
 
 Boggs. Well, my Lord fired at the County of Suffolk — 
 and missed it. And Sir 'Arry he fired in the air — and hit Sir 
 Meekly. 
 
 Countess. Sir Meekly ! 
 
 Lady I. (coolly.) In the head? 
 
 Boggs. No ; in the foot, my Lady. 
 
 Countess. Oh, this is dreadful ! 
 
 Sappho. How it will interfere with the quadrilles ! 
 
 Helena. Shockingly ! 
 
 Boggs. Then my Lord, becomin' excited, h'accidentally 
 discharged his weapon a second time, and carried off the tip 
 of his right ear. 
 
 Countess. What! His own? 
 
 Boggs. No, my Lady, Sir Meekly's. 
 
 Countess. Oh ! 
 
 Lady I. {aside.) Both ears would bear a shortening. 
 
 Countess. Oh, but he must be looked to at once ! Where 
 are the gentlemen ? 
 
 {Enter, through gateivay, de P. Exit Boggs.) 
 
 DE P. Pray do not be agitated, ladies ! I must apologize 
 for this slight annoyance which honor lias rendered necessary. 
 But I assure you the affair was one of the most recherche at 
 which I have ever had the pleasure to assist. Lord Touch- 
 stone's foresight had provided a surgeon, and we have made 
 Sir Meekly as comfortable as possible. 
 
 Countess. But how came he to be hit? 
 
 DE P. In point of fact, my Lady, Sir Harry, having no 
 personal quarrel with my Lord Touchstone, fired in the air ; 
 and as Sir Meekly had climbed a tree . . . 
 
 Helena. A tree ! 
 
 Sappho (aside.) Arbor vitae. 
 
 DE P. He received the charge in his foot. 
 
 Countess. Oh, dear me ! 
 
 Lady I. Did it shiver the limb? 
 
 DE P. Of the tree, madam ? 
 
A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 39 
 
 Lady I. Of Sir Meekly, sir. 
 
 DE P. Not at all ; I regret the wound iu his ear, as that 
 resulted from excitement — an element always de trop in duels. 
 But for the rest, everything was perfect. My Lady, I salute 
 you. 
 
 (^Kissing Helena's hand.) 
 
 Helena. Ah ! 
 
 (Sappho looks at them and sighs languishinglg.) 
 
 {Enter, through gateway. Touchstone and Sir Harry, arm in 
 arm, chatting and laughing. Enter, behind them, Sir 
 Meekly, on a crutch and cane, left foot bandaged and held 
 7ip by a strap. Large bandage over right ear and across 
 his temples. He is partially supported by Hoggs.) 
 
 Lady I. (aside.) There is tlie villain who dared to write 
 me the love letter. Oil, he must be punished ! 
 
 Touch. It's all right, ladies. Roses and sunflowers ! all 
 right. I made an absurd mistake. Explanations have fol- 
 lowed, and Sir Harry and I are the best of friends. 
 
 Lady L And Sir Harry and /are the worst of enemies. 
 
 Sir H. I? 
 
 Countess. What? 
 
 Helena. Oh ! 
 
 Lady I. He has dared to address me in terms of passionate 
 love. 
 
 (Sappho sivoons into chair.) 
 
 Lady I. (pointing to Sir Harry.) Sir Meekly, you must 
 have that man out, at once. 
 
 Sir M. M' my love, I f'feel as if s' somebody had had 
 m' me out ! 
 
 BOGGS. 
 
 * 
 
 Sir Meekly. 
 
 * 
 
 DE Portment. Touchstone. 
 
 * Sappho. * 
 
 Helena. * Sir Harry. 
 
 * * 
 
 Lady L Countess. 
 
40 A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 
 
 ACT THIRD. 
 
 Scene Drawing-room in the country residence of the Earl 
 
 of Touchstone. At right, door opening to garden. Fireplace 
 and mantel, toith mirror, centre of flat. Easy chairs, right, 
 
 front. Small table left. Card-tables at left, back Time, the 
 
 evening. 
 
 {Touchstone and Countess discovered playing at chess, Z.) 
 
 Touch. Nothing of the sort, I tell yon. The letter referred 
 to me. And not only that, but here she is putting all kinds of 
 rubbish into the girls' heads about the rights and dignity of 
 woman. Egad! she'll have us all by the ears soon. 
 
 Count HSS {making a move on chess-board.) It can do no 
 harm. The girls have common sense below the surface. 
 
 Touch. Ugh ! A long way below it. I overheard Lady 
 Ironsides instructing Helena and Sappho in the way they should 
 act towards their admirers, — and, by zounds! I believe they 
 are both converted to her way of tiiinking. They are going 
 to begin showing their superiority tliis very night. Ho, ho, ho, 
 what a world of imbeciles this is ! Ho, ho, ho ! 
 
 {]\Iaking a move on chess-board.) 
 
 Countess. Lady Ironsides seemed terribly indignant at 
 Sir Harry. 
 
 Touch. Oh, ha, ha, ha ; fugues and fiddlesticks ! 'twas as 
 good as a play. Ho, ho, ho. 
 
 Countess. And how absurd, to be sure. I give you check. 
 
 (Making a move.) 
 
 Touch. Eh ! Ciieck ! How's that ? Hang it ! I thought 
 my king was covered. If there is anything which irritates me 
 it is to be suddenly checked. Zounds ! It's villainous, I say, 
 villainous ! 
 
 Countess. Then I'll change my move . . . 
 
 Touch. Nothing of the sort. I am not a child, madam ; 
 you seem to intimate that I have to be humored. Now, by 
 my life ! . . . 
 
 Countess. Oh, not in the least . . . 
 
A REFORMER TN RUFFLES. 41 
 
 ToL'CH. Whereas you must know that I am a singuhirly 
 amiable person. Surely you can see that nothing but extreme 
 provocation ever irritates me. I make it a point to govern 
 myself absolutely. Absolutely, madam. But I don't like con- 
 tradiction, you know. And, by Saturn's rings ! madam, I'll 
 not have it, I — I . . . 
 
 Countess. My Lord, I shouldn't think of contradicting 
 you . . . 
 
 Touch. I don't see why Sappho didn't play with me any 
 how. She was to have done so, but got a sick headache sud- 
 denly, and had to go to her room. Very mysterious ! 
 
 {Making a motw.) 
 
 CoiTNTESS. Poor girl ! She is so frail. And she was so 
 shaken up by that unfortunate affair . . . 
 
 Touch. A little mistake ; that was all. Ha, ha, ha ! It 
 was ridiculous. But you must admit that things looked bad. 
 And Sangfroid is such a devil of a fellow. To think of his 
 making love to old Ironsides ! Oh, Goody-two-shoes ! Oh, ho ! 
 Odds bodkins! Oh, ho ! Hello! 
 
 {^Enter dejectedly from garden, Sappho.^ 
 
 Countess. My dear girl ; how very imprudent of you to 
 be in the garden so late. I thought you were within. 
 
 Sappho. No; I wanted to weep at the yellow moon awhile. 
 
 Touch. Cheerful occupation ! Did the moon seem to 
 enjoy it ? 
 
 Sappho. The moon herself is but a tear — a Jovian tear. 
 
 Touch. Egad ! Jove must get rid of a good deal of celes- 
 tial misery if he sheds it in globules like that; ha, ha. 
 
 Sappho. Oh dear ! (Sighs.) 
 
 Countess. Really, Sappho, there appears to be something 
 unusual the matter with you. How is your head, dear? 
 
 Sappho. Worse — ah. 
 
 Countess {making a move on chess-hoard.) I queen my 
 pawn, please. 
 
 Touch. Now, by the Pope's toe ! How did you do that ? 
 That's what comes of this infernal weeping of moons ! Pikes 
 and powder ! I'll not finish such a game. The idea of trying 
 to play chess with two women buzzing about yellow moons ! 
 By heaven ! it's preposterous, it's . . . 
 
 Countess. Oh, my Lord . . . 
 
 4* 
 
42 A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 
 
 Touch. No, madam, no. I'll not finish such a game, I 
 tell you. It's a trap — a trap to mate me ! Ha ! I'll not endure 
 it. Bah ! 
 
 {Exit L.) 
 
 Countess. Alas ! I wish you could have played with 
 him, Sappho . . . 
 
 Sappho. Thanks very much. I hate stale mates. 
 
 Countess. And prefer knights to pawns, I suspect. I 
 must go calm your uncle. He'll be very dyspeptic if he 
 doesn't get quieted. 
 
 {Exit L.) 
 
 Sappho. Poor aunt ! What a hard time she has ! I won- 
 der if Lord Touchstone was ever statuesque, and told pretty 
 lies by moonlight — ah. 
 
 {Takes letter from pocket and refers to it.) 
 
 " Job of tailoring !" Oh, oh. 
 
 {Enter from garden, Sir Harry.) 
 
 Sir H. {aside.) Alone ! An unexpected happiness — {aloud) 
 Sappho. 
 
 Sappho {tiir?iing.) Ha ! monster ! 
 
 Sir H. Eh ! 
 
 Sappho. Is it possible you have the audacity to show your- 
 self — to speak to me ? 
 
 Sir H. Sappho ! 
 
 Sappho. Again? How dare yoti approach me, sir? — Oh, 
 oh ; you " referred to my handiwork" in your note, did you ? 
 You gave me your opinion, did you? Oh, oh, oh {hysteri- 
 cally.) 
 
 Sir H. Good heavens ! Sappho . . . 
 
 Sappho {hacking Sir H. into a corner.) I scorn you, — I 
 scorn your opinion, — I scorn your letter, — I scorn everytiiing 
 about you, sir. Thus do I fling your words from me, sir 
 {throwing letter oti floor.) Oh, to be deceived ! Oh, traitor! 
 traitor ! Oh ! 
 
 {Rushes out R.) 
 
 Sir H {solus.) Is this a tornado or an earthquake? What 
 can it mean ? By Jove, my head swims. My . . . 
 
 {Takes up letter from floor.) 
 
A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 43 
 
 {Enter L,, Lady Ironsides.) 
 
 Lady I. Oh, here you are, insinuating hypocrite ! So you 
 thought you could make love to 7ne, did you ? 
 
 Sir H. Heaven fort'end, madam ! 
 
 Lady I. You dared to suppose that I would take a moon- 
 light walk with you, did you ? Ha ! Do I look like a woman 
 to take moonlight walks, sir? Eh, sir? 
 
 Sir H. Not a particle, on my honor . . . 
 
 Lady I. (backing Sir H. into a corner.') Audacious trai- 
 tor! Thus do I scorn you and your advances (^throwing letter 
 on the floor.) Do not think you shall escape punishment. Oh, 
 no, no. Never think it! Never think it. Bah! Fish! 
 Boo-oh ! 
 
 {Rushes out R.) 
 
 Sir H. {after a pause.) On the whole, I think it 
 may be called an earthquake ! A hailstorm of rejected let- 
 ters. In the name of the Furies, what does it all mean ? 
 
 ( Takes uj) second letter.) 
 
 Good gracious! Why, this is my note to Sappho! Oh, ho, 
 ho! No wonder the old lady thinks me audacious. Oh ! ha, 
 ha, ha ! But what, then, did Sappho receive? 
 
 {Refers to first letter.) 
 
 Eh, what's this ? 
 
 {Enter L., Touch, followed by Boggs.) 
 
 Touch. Flace the whist tables in the library. 
 
 Boggs. Yes, my Lord. 
 
 Touch. Ah, Sangfroid ! 
 
 Sir H. My Lord, this letter appears to be in your char- 
 acter. Can you explain it? It begins rather forcibly — 
 {Reads.) " Idiot : The next time you try to botch a job ot 
 tailoring" . . . 
 
 {Boggs looks horrified and runs out L.) 
 
 Touch. Why, bludgeons and broomsticks ! that's my letter 
 to that rascally tailor. Boggs, how's this . . . Eh? He's 
 gone. Oh, that lunkhead has made another mistake about the 
 
44 A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 
 
 letters! I'll teach him. Boggs, Boggs, you rascal! Oh, I'll 
 warm you up ! 
 
 {Exit L.) 
 
 Ladt I. (heard off R.) Yes, and I haven't done with him 
 yet. I 've something else to say to him, and I'll say it now. 
 Sir H. Oh, heaven ! I 'II cool myself" off. 
 
 (Rjins out to garden.) 
 
 {Enter, R. I. E., Lady Ironsides.) 
 
 Lady I. Not here? He got away very quickly. A guilty 
 conscience always keeps a man moving. Oh, when women 
 get into Parliament, I hope they'll pass an Act to put such 
 fellows permanently in the stocks, and feed them by the year 
 out of the parish funds ! Ha ! 
 
 {Elder, L. U. E., de Portment with an exaggerated smile on 
 his face, and his head affectedly bent to one side. He comes 
 slowly down, gazing upon Lady Ironsides.) 
 
 Lady I. (aside.) What masquerading trick is this? . . . 
 The creature is surely lunatic ! . . . 
 
 (de P. approaches, smiling yet more.) 
 
 I knew de Portment was a fool, but I never supposed him 
 capable of such a hideous grimace, (aloud.) Well, sir? 
 
 DE P. Benign enchantress ! (sighs.) 
 
 Lady I. Eh ! (aside.) Heavens ! I wonder if he has 
 colic. 
 
 (de P. stands smiling at her.) 
 
 What a contortion ! A man would faint at such a sight. 
 (aloud.) What's the matter, sir? 
 
 DE P. Fair disturber of my heart's peace ! 
 
 Lady I. Sir! I? 
 
 DE P.. You, fair one, you. 
 
 Lady I. Oh, this is simply abominable . . . Sir . . . , 
 
 DE P. Since I beheld your face I know no rest. 
 
 Lady I. Lord de Portment, what is the meaning of this ? 
 
 DE P. Love has robbed me of rest. My peace of mind 
 has vanished. Ah ... 
 
 Lady 1. Well, young man, I '11 give you a piece of my 
 mind in short oi-der. I 'd liave you to understand . . . 
 
A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 45 
 
 DE P. Nay, nay ; I know how you strive to cover womanly 
 coyness with an assumed asperity. But the truth is potent. 
 Harsh words will not long remain upon those rosebud lips. 
 
 {Lady I. screams.) 
 
 Dear one, not so loud ; it will alarm the house, and termi- 
 nate this blissful interview. 
 
 Lady I. That is precisely what I intend, insolent intruder! 
 How dare you ? 
 
 DE P. Love dares all things. I do but come to tell you 
 that I know all, and that I reciprocate your feelings ; that I . . . 
 
 Lady I. (aside.) They're all making love to me; to ?ne! 
 What madness is this ? 
 
 DE P. That I . . . that I . . . in fact that I live but in 
 the light of your . . . your . . . opal eyes, {smiles afresh.) 
 
 Lady I. Hold ! hold ! No more, or, by my life ! I shall 
 forget you are the weaker vessel, and strike you down ! Oh, 
 be well assured you shall pay dearly for your insolence. Oh ! 
 you wretched, . . . conceited . . . unbearable . . . coxcomb, 
 you. Tome! 'Yome! . . . Boo-oh ! 
 
 (Hushes out, B.) 
 
 DE P. (solus.) vSlie covers her affection admirably. Poor 
 thing! What it must cost her! Slie speaks exceedingly /br- 
 cibli/, I must confess. But my appearance has evidently made 
 a deep impression. 
 
 (Going up to mirror.) 
 
 And, in fact, I think my figure is calculated to make an inroad 
 on feminine susceptibilities. Ah, how wonderful a thing is a 
 thoroughly graceful carriage ! Poor ladies ! They flicker about, 
 like moths about a candle, but are sure to fly into the flame at 
 last. Ah me ! (Kissing his hand to his reflection.) Ta, ta. 
 So, so. 
 
 (Enter, L. U. E., Boggs, rubbing his head ; as de P. is backing 
 from mirror, he and Boggs collide.) 
 
 BoGGS. Beg pardon. I didn't h 'observe your Lordship was 
 h'exercisin'. Your Lordship bade me h'inform you when Lady 
 Helena came down. She's in the conservatory now, my Lord. 
 
 DE P. Ah ! very good. Is your master there, as well ? 
 
 'Boggs. Oh no, my Lord. He is elsewheres. (aside.) I've 
 
46 A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 
 
 reason to know. He's been h'admonishin' me about the letters 
 in a weriy powerful manner, [aloud.) Lady Helena is alone, 
 my Lord. 
 
 (Exit to garden.') 
 
 DE P. (solus.) I go to complete another conquest ; to make 
 my tirst official court to the fair Helena. How busy these little 
 matters of the heart keep a man ! Ah ! 
 
 (Exit L. U.E.) 
 
 {Enter, from garden, Sir Harry and Boggs.) 
 
 BoGGS. .Lor! Sir 'Arry, but it will be a sort of a revolution, 
 as the 'istorians say. My h'eyes ! 
 
 Sir H. Never mind. Do as I say. Deliver the messages 
 exactly as I told you, and everything will come out right. 
 Where is Sir ]\Ieekly now ? 
 
 Boggs. I've no right to know anythink h'otficial like, but 
 I do 'appen to know individooally. Sir 'Arry, that he is in the 
 neighborhood of the conservatory. He, he, he ! 
 
 Sir H. (aside.) That elderly dragon has got him on duty 
 again. 
 
 Boggs. Sir Meekly be tolerably well spavined by his mis- 
 haps, but he gets about pretty spruce, notwithstandin'. 
 
 Touch, (heard off L.) Pugs and poodles ! Such mistakes 
 irritate me ; they irritate me ! 
 
 Boggs. Oh, if you don't want me partickler. Sir 'Arry, 
 I've somethin' immejit to attend to. 
 
 Sir H. Ha, ha. Very well ; you had better go. 
 
 (Exit R., Boggs.) 
 
 Poor fellow. I fear Lord Touchstone doesn't keep him on 
 a bed of roses. 
 
 (Enter L., Touchstone.) 
 
 Ah, my Lord! I hope you won't inconvenience yourself 
 further about the letters. The matter is really of no conse- 
 quence. 
 
 Touch. But to think of the fellow's carelessness ! It sets 
 me wild. 
 
 Sir H. We should rather pity his disadvantages than blame 
 his carelessness. I trust, as a favor to me, that your Lordship 
 will not be severe. 
 
A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 47 
 
 Touch. Oh, well — of course, if you put it in that light. 
 Sir H. Thanks. It really seems as if nothing should annoy 
 one in this lovely retreat — this quiet spot. 
 
 {A crash of glass, etc., heard off L.) 
 
 Touch. Cats and canister! Quiet! Deucedly quiet! 
 What has happened now ? 
 
 {Enter, L. U. E., de Portment.) 
 
 DE P. Nothing, my Lord ; absolutely nothing. I was en- 
 deavoring to say a few words to the Lady Helena in tlie con- 
 servatory, when Sir Meekly L-onsides broke through the roof. 
 
 Touch. Ye gods ! 
 
 DE P. For some unknown reason he attempted to climb 
 out, and as his cane slipped, he crashed through the sash, and 
 fell at our feet amid a shower of splintered glass and wood . . . 
 
 Touch. Is he hurt? 
 
 DE P. Considerably scratched about the face. They '11 fix 
 him up with court-plaster. It was very discomposing to our 
 conversation — really. 
 
 Sir H. And somewhat startling to Lady Helena, eh? 
 
 DE P. Y' yes. But the fact is, she hardly seemed in a mood 
 to be startled. I think . . . that is, I infer . . . that Lady 
 Ironsides has been talking to her. 
 
 Sir H. And I am sure of it. 
 
 Touch. Egad! I told you so, I told you so. Oh, she'll 
 have us all by the ears ! 
 
 DE P. Lady Helena was very . . . distrait. In point of 
 fact, she desired me to confine my conversation to geology . . . 
 
 Sir H. Oh, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha ! 
 
 Touch. Geol . . . OIi, ho, ho, ho! 
 
 DE P. Whereas, as your Lordship must, of course, be aware, 
 I had intended paying my most ardent addresses, and . . . 
 
 Touch. Geology! Oh, cubes and cobblestones ! Geology! 
 Oh, ho, ho ! 
 
 DE P. And the more poetical I made my language, the 
 more sternly practical she became. 
 
 Touch. Didn't she say anything about yellow moons? 
 Oh, ho, ho! 
 
 DE P. No, my Lord ; she said she had joined the Amazon 
 Club, and henceforth should regard men as the world's sub- 
 
48 A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 
 
 alterns. She was so frisicl that it was a positive relief when 
 the sash and Sir Meekly tumbled at our feet. 
 
 Touch. Egad! This is growing serious. Something has 
 got to be done. 
 
 Sir H. And T have begun to do it. I hate already sounded 
 Sir Meekly, and find him half disposed to revolt. It only needs 
 our support to lead him to hang out the banner of rebellion, and 
 strike for liberty ! 
 
 Touch. Oh! magnificent! splendid! what fireworks we 
 shall have! Oh, ho, ho, ho! 
 
 DE P. And you think he can actually be induced to brave 
 Lady Ironsides ? 
 
 Sir H. Sure of it, my dear sir ; sure of it. He only needs 
 a little backbone. 
 
 DE P. That's all an oyster needs to make it a fish. 
 
 Sir H. But, in this case, it is in our power to furnish the 
 necessary amount. Siiall I have your co-operation ? 
 
 DE P. With all my heart. 
 
 Touch. And mine, and mine. Sir Harry, you're a genius ! 
 I compliment you. 
 
 (^Touchstone presents his smijf-hox to Sir Harry; Sir Harry 
 presents his to de Portment; and de Portment presents his 
 to Touchstone. All snnff simultaneously^ and bow to each 
 other ceremoniously.) 
 
 Touch. Now let us consider. 
 
 DE P. How do you pi'opose to operate ? 
 
 Sir H. Conjointly. 
 
 DE P. Hum. 
 
 Touch. Old lady has a powerful hold ! 
 
 Sir H. Tremendous ! 
 
 Touch. And great strength of nerve. 
 
 DE P. Frightful ! 
 
 Sir H. But Sir Meek.ly's no fool. 
 
 Touch. Well . . . N' no. But . . . 
 
 DE P. Exactly! 
 
 Sir H. Hum. 
 
 i^They look at each other, and snuff rejlectively, as before.) 
 
 DE P. What is to be done ? 
 
 Sir H. Let us go to him in a body, and stir him up. It's 
 a matter of self-protection, I tell you. 
 
A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 49 
 
 Touch. Yes, you are right. The girls have no brains to 
 squander on women's rights. Oh, ho, ho ! I '11 back you, gen- 
 tlemen, I '11 back you. {aside.) And I wager Mrs. Hector will 
 think me more of an "old brute" than ever, before the fun is 
 over. Ha ! 
 
 DE P. The poor gentleman has certainly cause for rebel- 
 lion. 
 
 Sir H. And is quite ready to break his chains. Eh ! 
 {looking off R.) They are coming. We had best get to work. 
 
 Touch. By all means, by all means. 
 
 DE P. (looking off R.) {aside.) I begin to think tiie old 
 lady is not so partial to me, after all. 8he looks rather . . . 
 indescribable! What can Sir Harry have meant? 
 
 {Enter., R.\ £J., Lady Ironsides and Sappho. The gentlemen 
 boiv ; the ladies regard them haughtily., and barely acknowl- 
 edge the salute.) 
 
 Sir H. {aside.) A thunderbolt is sunshine to Sappho! 
 
 {Enter., L. U. E.., Cotintess and Helena. The gentlemen pass 
 up and bow. Helena regards them frigidly. Then exeunt, 
 L.y Touchstone, de Portment, and Sir Harry. The Countess 
 and Helena come down.) 
 
 Helena {aside.) So statuesque! But I am determined to 
 take Lady Ironsides' advice. 
 
 Countess {to Lady I.) Are you ready to trump all the 
 tricks, Lady L'onsides? You see we are semi-rural here, and 
 usually get at our whist quite soon after dinner. 
 
 Lady L Oh, I am quite ready to do the best I can with 
 such hands as fate shall give me. As to trumping all the tricks, 
 that's another matter. If one only didn't have to play Avith a 
 man for partner; they are all so stupid. 
 
 Sappho. And so perfectly horrid ! ah! 
 
 Countess. Goodness, Sa])pho! How vindictively you 
 speak ! 
 
 Lady I. She is entirely right, my Lady. I am glad to find 
 in your niece so much good sound common sense. Indeed, 
 both the young ladies have promised to take my advice in the 
 matter of the men. I have expounded my views to them care- 
 fully, and I hope not without effect. 
 
 Sappho. Oh, no indeed! I see my folly. Why do you 
 
 5 
 
 ft 
 
50 A REFORMER IN RUFFLES, 
 
 know, aunt, I actually ranked men above horses, until dear 
 Lady Ironsides explained tlieir true position to me. 
 
 Countess. Good heavens ! 
 
 Sai'PHO. Think of it ! The new system will change all 
 this absurd overestimation of men ! 
 
 Lady I. Yes, indeed. Brute force has ruled the world long 
 enough. We pro[)Ose, hereafter, that mind shall sway events ; 
 the perfect, transcendent feminine mind. 
 
 Sappho. Hear, hear ! 
 
 Lady I. We pro[)ose to relegate man to his proper place in 
 the economy of the universe . . . 
 
 Helena. Hip hip ... 
 
 Sappho. Hurrah ! 
 
 Helena. Tiger! 
 
 Helena and Sappho. Ya-a-ah ! 
 
 Lady I. We intend — we, the future women — that the lesser 
 male luminary shall revolve around our orbit, and take his 
 place, not in the van, but in the rear of our achievements ! 
 
 Helena and Sappho. Hear, hear! 
 
 Lady L We shall make the laws ; construe the laws ; en- 
 force the laws . . . 
 
 Helena. Blue laws ! Hurrah ! 
 
 Lady I. And march onward by right of our indomitable 
 will ! 
 
 Sappho. We will ! Hurrah ! 
 
 Lady' L Onward and upward . . . 
 
 Sappho. Excel . . . 
 
 Helena. Sior ! 
 
 Lady I. The heaven-endowed rulers of the world! 
 
 Sappho. Hip hip . . . 
 
 Helena. Hurrah ! Tiger ! 
 
 Helena and Sappho. Ya-a-ah ! 
 
 Lady I. Such is the destiny of woman ! 
 
 Countess. How is our navy to be manned? 
 
 Lady' I. It won't be ; it will be womaned. 
 
 Helena. How very quaint ! 
 
 Sappho. Hurrah ! 
 
 Lady I. The Suffrage Association is about issuing a pam- 
 phlet which will sound the slogan of our liberties . . . 
 
 By the way, Sir Meekly was to have written about the matter 
 
A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 51 
 
 to-day. Will you send for him, please, my Lady. I'll iiujuire 
 whether he has attended to it. 
 Countess. Certainly. 
 
 {Rings bell.) 
 
 Ladt I. When the nation reads that pamphlet . . . 
 
 Countess (aside.) Yes; when! 
 
 Lady L There will be a popular uprising. 
 
 (HJ/iter, L., Boggs.) 
 
 Countess. Inform Sir Meekly that Lady Ironsides desires 
 to see him. 
 
 Boggs. Yes, my Lady. 
 
 {Exit, Z., Boggs.) 
 
 Lady I. Oh, 't will be a glorious change ! Think of woman 
 as the universal arbiter of peace and war! 
 
 Sappho. Especially war ! I shall join the Royal Horse 
 Guards, {to Helena.) Think of a squadron of side-saddles, dear. 
 
 Helena. And the plumes ! So mediaeval, ah ! 
 
 Countess. Oh ! what carnage we shall have, to be sure. 
 
 Helena. And sha'n't some of us be postboys, too? I should 
 so like to be a postboy. It has such a classical flavor . . . 
 
 Sappho. A mercurial profession. 
 
 Helena. Y''es, winged heels, and all that. Ah ! 
 
 {Enter, L., Boggs.) 
 
 Boggs. Sir Meekly sends his compliments, and says he's 
 engaged at present. 
 
 Lady I. What! Engaged? Oh, he must have misunder- 
 stood ! Tell Sir Meekly that Lady Ironsides desires his pre- 
 sence in the drawing-room. Lady Ironsides — you understand? 
 
 Boggs. Yes, my Lady ; I did, my L^ady, but . . . 
 
 Lady I. His presence, at once. 
 
 Boggs. Werry good, my Lady. 
 
 {Exit, L., Boggs.) 
 
 Lady I. He certainly could not have understood. 
 Countess. And yet I was quite explicit, (aside.) I won- 
 der if the little man has picked up a spirit. Ha, ha, ha ! 
 Helena. Under the new system, I suppose men will be 
 
52 A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 
 
 given something to do, won't they? It would never do to have 
 them simply as ornaments. 
 
 Sappho. They 'd be sure to fail in that capacity. 
 
 Lady I. Oh, I should not for a moment think of keeping 
 men in idleness. There are various occupations for which they 
 are fitted. But to have them in legislatures making laws for 
 us is preposterous. They can be assigned to many subordinate 
 duties, but we must at all times exact instant obedience. 
 Well? 
 
 {Enter, Z., Boggs.) 
 
 BoGGS. Beg pardon, my Lady, but Sir Meekly says that 
 if your Ladyship 's in a hurry, you 7/ have to come to Mm. If 
 not, he'll be coming to the drawing-room presently with the 
 other gentlemen, and will be 'appy to 'ear your petition. 
 
 Lady I. Hear my petition ! Oh, oh, ha! And you mean 
 to say that he gave you this message to carry to me? 
 
 BoGGS. The same, my Lady. 
 
 Countess (aside.) A revolution ! 
 
 Lady I. To me ! Oh, this is . . . is ... most extra- 
 ordinary! Most . . . most . . . unendurable, (aside.) "Other 
 gentlemen," indeed. Oil, I see the hand of Sir Harry Sang- 
 froid in this ! 
 
 Countess. That will do, Boggs. 
 
 (Boggs bows and exit, L.) 
 
 Sappho (to Helena.) What can it mean? 
 
 Helena (to Sappho.) "Miching mallecho. It means mis- 
 chief!" 
 
 Lady I. (aside.) " Petition," indeed ! Oh, wait till I see 
 him; only wait ! (aloud.) This is unexampled ! 
 
 Sappho. What is your Ladyship going to do about it ? 
 
 Lady I. Oh, I '11 show you. Sir Meekly has been tampered 
 with. He never would dare, of his own accord, to take such 
 a step. 
 
 Helena. It 's really awfully shocking, you know. 
 
 Countess (aside.) It looks to me like the approach of a 
 crisis. 
 
 Lady I. Such audacity must be checked, /shall check it 
 as soon as he comes, (aside.) "Petition," indeed ! 
 
A RKFORMER IN RUFFLES. 53 
 
 Countess. I am afraid your new disciples Avill lose faith, 
 Lady Ironsides. 
 
 Lady I. Not when they see the disastrous results of such 
 a violation of principle. Only wait, only wait. 
 
 Sappho {to Hele^iaJ) Do you think he can withstand her, 
 sweet ? 
 
 Helena. Hardly; yet really I begin to doubt. But then 
 how glorious to reign as she described ; rulers of creation ! 
 
 Sappho. Ah, yes! And Sir Harry! Ha! When I think 
 of him I would like to be a ... a .. . cannibal! 
 
 {Enter, L. U. E., Sir Meekly, supported by Sir Harry, who 
 in turn is supported by de Portment, and he in turn by 
 Touchstone. Sir Meekly has head and foot bandaged, and 
 patches of court-plaster on face; and is supported on two 
 canes. 
 
 Lady I. Oh ! you have deigned to come, have you ? And 
 valiantly supported ! 
 
 Sir M. Lady Ironsides, I come to d' declare to you tlius 
 ])' publicly that . . . that . . . 
 
 Sir H. {prompting him.) I will no longer . . . 
 
 Sir M. I will no 1' longer . . . 
 
 ^mW. {as before.) Be placed in the mortifying position . . . 
 
 Sir M. Be p' placed in the m' mortifying position of . . of . . 
 
 Lady I. Plold, sir! I understand this outrageous episode; 
 I see through this revolt. It will not succeed, oh, ho! it will 
 not succeed. 
 
 Sir M. Madam, I intend ... I intend. Madam ... I 
 intend . . . 
 
 Sir H. {as before.) To assert my rights. 
 
 Touch, {aside to Sir M.) Spell it with a capital R. Hooray ! 
 
 Sir M. To assert . . . to assert . . . {aside.) Oh iieaven! 
 
 Touch, {as before.) Go it. Meekly, my boy! 
 
 Sir H. {as before.) My rights. 
 
 Sir M. My r' r' rights, madam. 
 
 Lady I. Sir Meekly! 
 
 Sir H. {as before.) I will no longer. 
 
 Sir M. I w' will no longer be . . . be . . . 
 
 DE P. {aside to Sir M.) Stick to it. Liberty or death ! 
 
 Sir H. {as before.) Your slave ! 
 
 Sir M. Y' your slave ! I am ... I am ... I am . . . 
 
54 A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 
 
 Helena (aside to Sappho.) I believe he is. 
 
 Sir H. (as before.) A man ! 
 
 Sir M. A-a-man, m' madam ! 
 
 Touch, (aside.) Hooray! 
 
 Sappho (aside to Helena.) Heavens ! sweet. He says he 's 
 a man ! 
 
 Sir M. I am ... I am . . . 
 
 Lady I. Sir Meekly, vou 're a fool ! 
 
 Sir M. Enough, enough, I '11 . . . I '11 . . . 
 
 Sir H. (as before.) Break tiiis chain. 
 
 Sir M. B' break this . . . (aside.) Oh, I 'm in an ague! 
 
 Touch, (aside to Sir M.) Face the music, as the man said 
 when he went to the dentist's. Hooray! 
 
 Sir M. Tliis ch' chain. I intend to . . . 
 
 DE P. (aside.) Hear, hear! 
 
 Sir H. (as before.) Strike for liberty! 
 
 Sir M. S' strike tor lib-lib-liberty ! 
 
 Lady I. Sir Meekly, are you mad? 
 
 Touch. By Mars ! Vm getting mad ! 
 
 Lady I. Cease this foolery, instantly . . . 
 
 Sir M. No madam, I will be free! I will be ... be . . 
 
 Sir H. (as before.) Master. 
 
 Sir M. I will be. (aside.) Oh, dear! 
 
 Sir H. (as before.) Master. 
 
 Sir M. M' master ! 
 
 (Lady I., Helena, and Sappho scream. Helena and Sappho 
 lean against Lady L for support.) 
 
 Sir H. Bravo ! 
 
 Lady I. Sir INIeekly. How dare you ? 
 . Sir M. I will ... I will . . . (aside.) Oh, it's no use. 
 Her eye is on me. I 'm gone ! I 'm gone ! 
 
 Lady I. P^nough of this. Let me tell yon that I compre- 
 hend this insolence. You, sir (to Sir H), are at the bottom 
 of it ; you who dared to write me a love-letter . . . 
 
 Sir H. On my honor, madam, I never did. 
 
 Lady I. What ! 
 
 Sir H. The tender epistle which you received was addressed 
 to Lady Sappho. 
 
 Sappho. Oh! To ?ne? (aside.) Oh, I don't feel nearly 
 so much like a cannibal as 1 did. 
 
A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 00 
 
 Lady I. This is extraordinary. 
 
 Countess (aside). Lady Ironsides' ranks are broken. Her 
 troops are going to desert. 
 
 Sir H. The whole business was a blunder. You received 
 the letter intended for Sapnlio, while she . . . 
 
 Touch. Received the blowing-up intended for my rascally 
 tailor. Oh, ho, lio, ho ! 
 
 Sappho (aside.) Oh, happiness ! 
 
 (Sappho runs to Sir Harry, and lays her head on his 
 shoulder.) 
 
 Lady L What! You recant, weakling? 
 Sappho (aside.) 1 think my pose is rather Greek. 
 Helena (aside.) Dear me ! 
 
 DE P. May I not hope to share in the recantation ? 
 Helena (aside.) He is very statuesque, (aloud.) Lady 
 Ironsides, I leave "Woman's Vengeance," to you. 
 
 (Helena 7'uns to de Portment, and. lays her head on his 
 shoulder.) 
 
 Touch. Osage and orange-blossoms ! AVhat a go ! Oh, 
 ho, ho, ho ! 
 
 Sir M. I f ' feel like a f ' fish out of water. 
 
 (Sir Meekly hobbles to Lady Ironsides, and lays his head 
 on her shoulder affectedly.) 
 
 Lady I. Pah ! 
 
 ( General merriment.) 
 
 Countess. I fear, my dear Lady Ironsides, that you must 
 seek for recruits elsewhere. You likewise. Sir Harry. 
 
 SiK H. ]Madam, I am quite satisfied with the exciiange of 
 prisoners. 
 
 DE P. And I desire an armistice. 
 
 (Enter, L. U. E., Boggs.) 
 
 BoGGS. My Lord, the whist-tables are placed. 
 Touch. Good. Then choose your partners. 
 Countess (laughing.) Everybody seems to iiave done that 
 pretty effectually already. 
 Touch. Except ... 
 
 (He holds out his hand to Countess.) 
 
56 A REFORMER IN RUFFLES. 
 
 Countess. Oh, no ; exceptions ever prove the rule. 
 
 (She goes to Touchstone.) 
 
 Touch. Or did, my Lady, when / went to school. 
 
 DE P. I have an idea ! 
 
 Sir H. What, thou gay deceiver? 
 
 (aside.) Two ideas in a day — I fear brain fever! 
 
 DE P. Let's play our whist to tune of wedding-bells. 
 
 Lady I. 'Gainst such an idea all my sense rebels. 
 
 Touch, (aside.) Not much of a rebellion ! Ha, ha, ha! 
 
 DE P. What say i/oii, Helena? 
 
 Helena. Oh, ask papa! 
 
 Sir H. And yon, fair Sappho? 
 
 Sappho. Ah, excuse were vain! 
 
 (aside.) I '11 wear white satin with a velvet train. 
 
 BoGGS (aside, at back.) It looks as if we 'd have a weddin' 
 weekly. 
 
 Sir M. {to Lady I.) D' dear L' Lady, do you 1' love your 
 little M' Meekly? 
 
 Lady I. Love 's but a word. 
 
 Countess. One word sets all things right. 
 
 Sir H. I think we owe our friends (indicating audience) 
 two words : 
 
 All (to audience.) Good night. 
 
 
 BOGGS. 
 
 
 Sir Meekly. 
 
 * 
 
 
 Sappho. 
 
 * 
 
 Lady Ironsides 
 
 * 
 
 
 Sir Harry. 
 
 * 
 
 Touchstone. 
 
 * 
 
 
 Helena. 
 
 * 
 
 Countess. 
 * 
 
 CURTAIN. 
 
 DE PoRTMENT. 
 
 * 
 
■iiiiifiiil 
 
 016 256 182 W