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Y Tribune This may serve in great measure the purposes of an English cvclopajdia It eires hic.d and succinct definitions of the technical terms in science and frtin law^and medicine. We have the explanation of words and phrases tbat puzzk n/ost pIopkT tw'/hf rTT'^'''^""^ comprehensive and out-of-the-way research.^ We need ouh^add hf /?^ ,I>>ct.onao^ appears in all its departments to have been brought down to meet i^nl^^'^f " M ""^ t^'^''^^ ^"1 ^^^^ '^ '^ admirably printed-^^^i, London u .tJT l^^'\^J^^^ addition to the library of the scholar and of the general reader It can have for the present no possible rival. _i>^os^w Post ' ^ It lias the bones and sinews of the grand dictionary of the future * * * An invalu- able library book.— ^^ccfestas^ica^ Gaze!/^e, London. Anmvam A work, which is certainly without a rival. aU things considered amont' the die. t.onaries of our language. The peculiarity of the work fs that it is eqnaU v well adao^ and .0 ihose of the most exigent scholar. -N. T. Commercial Advertiser * ni.r, ^°'"Pf''ed with our standard dictionaries, it is better in type, richer in its vocab^ a^ry, and happier in arrangement. Its system of grouping is admirable * * * He who possesses this dictionary will enjoy and use it, and its bulk is not so sreat as to make use of it a terror.— Christian Advocate N Y ^ an/fnT wv 'tT"^ """"^ carefully executed work, whichhas decided merits of its own and for which there is a place not filled by anv of its rtvals.-^V. Y Sun ' tio^-^,::lS:'i^;:S^%,^^^;;^'^'''^^'^ ^^^ ^-«-« ^^^ ^igl^est commenda. ligeVlr%^T^^' ^'""^^ scholarly dictionary of our English lar^guage. -Christian Intel, coI^ll^SiS:!!!S^^^^^ '^^^<^^^y *^ --^^"^ -it^ a hearty wel. resi^itTf mnder'lfrt';^"'^^ dictionary, the embodiment of good seholArship and the Ifdu ^LTc r '^^^f^ches. 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JC®- Habper & Brothkws will send any of the above worke iy mail, postage pre' paid, to any part of the United States &r Canada, on receipt of the price. COMEDIETTAS AND FARCES. X^' JOHN MADDISON MORTON. PKEFACE. I HAVE been asked to write a few words of Preface to this little book of Plays. I may state that two are original ; for the remainder (being too old an offender in this respect to do otherwise), I thankfully admit my indebtedness to French material, claiming, however, for myself, considerable alterations in plot, situations, etc., and complete originality of dialogue. I beg to call the attention of Amateurs to these pieces — they having been written by me with a special view to Private performance. John Maddison Morton. CONTENTS. PAGE BOX AND COX 11 FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED 35 pepperpot's little pets 61 after a storm comes a calm 85 express! 106 taken from the french 125 declined — with thanks 147 JOHN MADDISOlSr MOETOK The present generation is familiar enough with ** Box and Cox," that best and brightest of good old English farces, and hundreds of other plays of the same kind, that were written years ago by one of the driest of humorists and most genial of gentlemen ; but few young play-goers, I take it, are aware how much the stage owes to John Maddison Morton. Of the form and features of one of the most pro- lific writers for the stage, I believe many of my own con- temporaries to be absolutely ignorant. They know little of his antecedents or history, and yet they, and thdir fathers before them, have laughed right merrily over the quips and cranks, the quaint turns of expression, the odd freaks of hu- mor that distinguished a writer of fun belonging to the old school. No one has ever filled the place left vacant by John Maddison Morton. Managers for many years past have as- sumed that the public does not want farces, and are content to tolerate badly-acted rubbish before the play of the even- ing begins. But a strong reaction is setting in. The pit and gallery are not content any longer to remain open- mouthed while the scenes of the play of the evening are being set, or to be deluded into applauding the silly stuff that is nowadays served up as farce, and in which the prin- cipal actors and actresses do not condescend to appear. Why, when I first began to consider myself a regular play- VI JOHN MADDISON MORTON. goer, some five-and-twenty years ago, when I struggled with the young m.eu of my time into the pit, I could see, quite irrespective of the play of the evening, Webster at the Adel- phi in " One Touch of Nature," say at seven o'clock in the evening ; Toole and Paul Bedford and Selby and Billington and Bob Romer, always in some favorite farce that began or ended the evening's amusement, at the Haymarket ; Buck- stone, old Rogers, and Chippendale in such plays as " The Rough Diamond," at the Haymarket, with an after-farce for Compton, Howe, and Walter Gordon ; and at the Strand such excellent little plays as "Short and Sweet" or the " Fair Encounter," in which we were sure to find Jemmy Rogers and Johnnie Clarke, and most probably Belford, Marie Wilton, Fanny Josephs, and Miss Swanborough. In those days artists were not above their business, which was, and ever should be, to amuse the public ; they were not taken up and patronized by society; they did not lecture their audiences, but were modest, hard-working, and unassuming. There were no young fops in the ranks of the dramatic pro- fession with extravagant salaries and diminutive talent, and the young ladies who adopted the profession had to work, and work hard, in order to obtain a name. Farces were then well acted, for the simple reason that the best members of the company played in them. It was worth paying for the pit at half or full price when Robson was set down for " Re- tained for the Defence" or "Boots at the Swan," and when Leigh Murray, most accomplished of comedians, appeared in " His First Champagne." John Maddison Morton was born on January 3, 1811, at the lovely Thames-side village of Pangborne, above Read- ing. His father was the famous dramatist Thomas Morton, JOHN MADDISON MORTON. Vli author of " Speed the Plough," " Town and Country," "The Way to get Married," " Secrets worth Knowing," " Cure for the Heartache," " School of Reform," etc. The elder Mor- ton resided at Pangborne for thirty -five years, and only removed to London in 1828. It must have been on the lovely reaches, back-waters, and weirs of the lovely Thames that the future author of " Box and Cox " acquired such a love of angling, and became so enthusiastic and excellent a fisherman. A few years ago I was in the habit of meeting Maddison Morton at the hospitable table of my old friend Robert Reece. They were both members of the old Dra- matic Authors' Society, and on committee days Reece would bring the jovial dramatist home to dinner, when, over a glass of old port-wine, and with frequent intervals of snuff-taking, he would delight us with stories of actors, and many advent- ures with the rod and line. In fact, he told us that he de- voted the best part of his after-life to two principal objects, " Fishing and Farce-writing." But to return to his younger days. He was educated in Paris and Germany from 1817 to 1820. After that he went to school at Islington for a short time, and from 1820 to 1827 we find the future dramatist at Dr. Richardson's cele- brated seminary at Clapham. Under the roof of the fa- mous author of the English dictionary he found, and soon took for companions, Julian Young, Charles James Math- ews, John Kemble, Henry Kemble, John Liston, Dick Tat- tersall, young Terry, son of Terry the actor, whose widow subsequently married the lexicographer. Dr. Richardson. In 1832 Maddison Morton was appointed to a clerkship in Chelsea Hospital by Lord John Russell, but he did not ap- pear to relish the desk any more than his subsequent friends. viii JOHN MADDISON MORTON. W. S. Gilbert and Robert Reece. He did not wait patient- ly for a pension, like Tom Taylor, Anthony Trollope, etc., but got sick of government office-work in 1840, when he resigned his situation. It was in April, 1835, that Maddison Morton produced his first farce at the little theatre in Tottenham Street des- tined afterwards to flourish as the Prince of Wales Theatre, and to be the nursery of Robertsonian comedy. The farce was called " My First Fit of the Gout," and the principal parts were played by Wrench, Morris Barrett, and Mrs. Nis- bett. As I have said before, Maddison Morton lived in the happy days when farces were popular, when programmes were ample, and when actors were not ashamed of their work. Among the cultivated artists who have played in Maddison Morton's farces are the elder Farren, Liston, Kee- ley, Buckstone, Wright, Compton, Harley, Robson, Mrs. Glover, Mrs. Stirling, Charles Mathews, and many more of our own day, such as Toole, Howe, etc. I once asked Maddison Morton some particulars concern- ing his subsequent career as a dramatist, when he observed, quaintly enough, " My dear boy, it would never do for me to blow my own trumpet. In the first place, I haven't got one, and I am sure I could not blow it if I had." It is sometimes brought as a charge against Maddison Morton that his plays are taken from the French, and as such are devoid of original merit. But how little such as these un- derstand Maddison Morton or his incomparable style. He may have borrowed his plots from France, but what trace of French writing is to be found in the immortal " Box and Cox," or " Woodcock's Little Game ?" " Box and Cox " is taken from two French farces, one called " Frisette," and JOHN MADDISON MORTON. IX the other "Une Chambre a Deux Lits," but the writing of the farce as much belongs to the man, and is as distinctly original and personal to him as anything ever said or writ- ten by Henry James Byron. For my own poor part, I con- sider that Maddison Morton is funnier than any writer for the stage in his day. It is the kind of dry, sententious hu- mor that tickles one far more than the extravagances, the puns, and the strained tomfooleries of the modern writer of burlesque — the very burlesque that Maddison Morton con- siders was the death-blow to the old-fashioned English farce. Players may yet find it profitable to revive the taste for short farces, and they need not hesitate to do so because several excellent and funny plays by the author of "Box and Cox " remain unused. Benjamin Webster told Mad- dison Morton, not long before his death, that he had made more money by farces than by any other description of drama. This is not diflScult to account for. The author was certainly not overpaid; the farces were evidently well acted ; it cost next to nothing to produce them, and if suc- cessful, the world and his wife went to see them. Writing to a friend the ether day, Maddison Morton ob- serves : "The introduction of 'Burlesque' gave the first ' knock-down blow ' to the old-fashioned farce. I hoped against hope that its popularity would return, and that some employment might still be found for my pen. I was disappointed ; and as the only means of discharging liabili- ties which I had in the mean time unavoidably contracted, I was compelled to part with my copyrights, the accumula- tion of a life's laborious and not unsuccessful work." It is interesting to note that Maddison Morton's "Box and Cox " was the pioneer of the movement that resulted X JOHN MADDISON MORTON. in the literary and musical partnership of Gilbert and Sulli^ van. If it had not been for Burnand's " Cox and Box," in all probability the " Sorcerer '' and the rest of the operas would never have been written. And happily the reign of Maddison Morton is not yet over. On Monday, December 7, 1885, was produced at Toole's Theatre a three-act farce called '' Going It," that kept the house in a continual roar of laughter. It is in the old vein, bright, witty, and bris- tling with verbal quip. When the farce was over the call for "author" was raised, but no one imagined that it would be responded to. To the surprise of all, Mr. Toole led on an elderly gentleman of the old school, prim, neat, well set up, and rosy-cheeked as a winter apple. This was Mad- dison Morton. At last the young play-goer had seen the author of " Box and Cox." In the year 1881, on the nomination of her Majesty, this great and accomplished gentleman, who never mixed in Bo- hemian or literary society, was appointed a "poor brother of the Charter House." Who that has read Thackeray is not familiar with the fine old hospital of " Greyfriars," and its pleasant old " codds," under whose shadow and in whose society Colonel Newcome breathed his last, and said "Ad- sum." Here in this pleasant retreat, quiet and retired al- though in the heart of the busiest part of the city, Maddi- son Morton met another " brother," John A. Heraud, a dramatist and dramatic critic who had often sat in judg- ment on Morton's plays. What chats about old times they must have within those venerable walls that circle round the poet-dramatist and the dramatic farce-writer. " Here," writes Maddison Morton, in his well-known cheerful and con- tented frame of mind, " I shall doubtless spend the short JOHN MADDISON MORTON. ' Xl time I may have to live, and then be laid in the quiet little church-yard at Bow — not, I hope, entirely * unwept, unhon- ored, nor unsung.' " Good, kindly, gentle heart thus to speak with such fer- vor and such faith in the long evening of your days ! Shut up in your cloistered home, the hearts of those who had the honor and pleasure of knowing you often go out to you ! And on the stage the laughter evoked by your fanciful wit, and the true humor that sprung from your merry heart, will soothe you and delight many more who honor your excel- lent name. n c^ Clement Scott. BOX AND COX. In {from rooms r. and Ij.— together). Joseph! Mrs. Major. S Joseph! Doctor. Here they both come! Do as I tell you, pluck up a proper spirit; in the mean time I'll beat a retreat {runs out ate). Major (shouting after him). Coward 1 to leave me alone to the mercy of two exasperated females! Enter Mrs. Pelican hurriedly at r. h. Mrs. p. This is perfectly intolerable! Mrs. Major. It's absolutely unbearable! (entering hurriedly at L. H.). Mrs. p. To take no notice of my bell ! Mrs. Major. What's the use of my ringing? Mrs. p. Oh I here you are, son Jeremiah. Major. Yes, my dear mother; {aside) and I devoutly wish I was anywhere else! Mrs. p. {turning him round towards Tier). I appeal to you to see that my authority in this house is respected ! Mks OR {with pretended surprise). What! Has any one dared — Mrs. Major {turning him towards her). I presume you won't allow me to be treated with inattention? Major {with pretended surprise again). What ! Has any one presumed — Mrs. p. {aside to Mm). But what's the matter with your wife? She seems out of temper! Major. Yes! because Joseph didn't attend to her summons at once. When you require him, he knows better than to do that! AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. 89 Mrs. Major (aside to Mm). Your mother appears annoyed at something or other? Major. No wonder! Joseph didn't answer her bell. He knows better than keep you waiting. (Aside.) What a humbug I am! Mrs. p. By-the-bye, Jeremiah, I have ordered dinner an horn- later to-day. Mrs. Major. Indeed? and for whatfeason, pray? Mrs. p. Because it suits me. Major. Oh! of course, my dear Georgina, if it suits her — Mrs. Major. But it doesn't suit me. I expect Mr, Simcox, the jeweller, early this evening, and cannot dine later than five. Major. Oh ! of course, my dear mother, if she expects Mr. Simcox — Mrs. p. It's too late now, the dinner will be served at six o'clock. Mrs. Major. I won't give way ! It will be on the table at five. Mrs. p. Six. Mrs. Major. Five. Major (aside). There they are again! hard at it! hammer and tongs ! Ente?' Joseph, rumiing, at c. Joseph. Please, ma'am, please, sir, here's Miss Fanny just driven up in a cab from the station! Mrs. p. Fanny! Major. What can have brought her back? Fanny (heard speaking off at c). Gently, my good man, with that box! My best hat's in it! such a beauty too! (runs in ate. ; she is in a light suimner travelling costnme^. Here I am ! How astonished you all look ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! (Running to Mrs. Major P. ) Dear Georgina ! so glad to see you once again (kissing her — Nodding to Major). How do, brother Jeremiah? and you, dear mamma? (about to kiss Mrs. Pelican). 90 AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. Mrs. p. {stiffly). I was not aware, miss, that it was usual for a well-educated young lady to address her sister-in-law before her mother! Fanny. Did I? So sorry, dear mamma. I really didn't see you at first. Major {aside). I'm sure she's big enough! Fanny Qwlding up her face to Mrs. P. ). Well, mamma, won't you kiss me? {Slyly.) You know you're punishing yourself as well as me. Mrs. p. Who can resist the dear child? {kissing Fanny). But we thought your visit to your Cheltenham friends was intended to last another week? Fanny. So it was, but they were obliged to return to town, so they brought me with them, put my luggage into a cab at the station, me on the top — I mean my luggage on the top— and here I am ! Enter Joseph at l, h. Joseph. Luncheon is on the table, sir. Mrs. p. Very well, Joseph. {Aside to Major.) Don't forget what I said about the dinner. Major {aside to her). All right; six o'clock, sharp! Mrs, Major {aside to Major). Remember what I decided about the dinner-hour! ls\h.iQ)^ {aside to her). All right; five o'clock, sharp! {Aside.) Between the two the chances are I sha'n't get any dinner at all! \Exeunt Mrs. Pelican and Major at r. h. Fanny. I'm so glad we're alone at last, Georgina; we can have a nice long chat together all alone ; and I've such a lot to tell you! Mrs. Major. Well, I'm all attention! But first, how did you enjoy your trip to Cheltenham? Fanny. Not much. I found it rather slow. Nothing but a collection of bilious-looking fogies being wheeled about in Bath- chairs. But never mind that; I've something else to talk about! AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. 91 Mrs. Major {smiling). Something very serious, no doubt. Fanny. Awfully serious ! Listen! At the very first ball I went to at the Assembly-rooms — Mrs. Major. A very brilliant affair, of course! Fanny. Really, Georgina, if you keep on interrupting me in this sort of way — Mrs. Major. I beg your pardon ! Well? Fanny. Well, at my very first ball I danced with a gentleman once or twice — perhaps three or four times. Mrs. IVIajor. Young, of course {smiling). Fanny. Rather! Mrs. Major. Handsome? Fanny {mry quickly). Very! Well, judge of my surprise when, the very next morning, as I was sitting in the drawing- room, the door opened and the servant announced " Captain Boodle!" Mrs. Major. The "young gentleman?" (5m^7m^). Fanny. Yes. Mrs. Major. Perhaps you had given him your address? Fanny {indignantly). Not I, indeed! He didn't ask for it, or perhaps I might ! Well, the next morning he called again, and the following morning, and the morning after that — in short, every morning — and as I was always in the drawing-room, of course quite by accident — Mrs. Major. You naturally became quite intimate — familiar and chatty. Fanny. He didn't, /did all the clmtting part! Never did I see any one so timid, so bashful, as Boodle. When he did try to say something, there he'd stand stammering and stuttering and blushing like a school-girl ! But although his tongue didn't say much, his eyes did ! Mrs. Major {smiling). And they said, "I love you?" Fanny. Distinctly! Well, I thought to myself it's not a bit of use going on like this. It's quite evident the poor man wor- 92 AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. ships the very ground I tread upon. So when he called next day, and I told him, in tremulous accents, of course, that I was going away, the effect was magical. First he turned pale, then red, then blue ; then he let his hat fall, then his umbrella, then himself — on both his knees, at both my feet, and there, I believe, he would have remained till further notice, if I hadn't said to him, "Augustus " — his name is Augustus — "I won't pretend to misunderstand you. You love me! I am yours!" Mrs. Major. What! Such an act of thoughtlessness, of in- discretion, on your part! Fanny. Perhaps it was, but I know this : it quite cured him of his timidity; for when he once did begin, I never heard any- body's tongue rattle on at such a rate as his did — never! Mrs. Major. And the result, I presume, was — Fanny. That we both, then and there, exchanged vows of constancy and locks of hair ! His is rather red, by-the-bye 1 But I see mamma coming! Mrs. Major. Then I'll retire. Seeing us closeted together would only arouse her ridiculous jealousy. Fanny. And I'll see if I can't find an opportunity to slip in a word about Augustus. In the mean time you'll keep my secret? Mrs. Major. Religiously ! for your sake ( going up). Fanny. And Boodle's. Mrs. Major (turning and smiling). And Boodle's. {Exit at c. Enter Mrs. Pelican at r. h. Mrs. p. Oh, here you are, Fanny ! Fanny. Yes, mamma! and quite alone. Mrs. p. Now! But you were not alone. Fanny. No, dear Georgina was with me. Mrs. p. And "dear Georgina," no doubt, lost no opportunity of prejudicing you against your mother! Fanny. Oh, mamma! {reproachfully). AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. 93 Mrs. p. But fortunately you will not long be exposed to her pernicious influence. Fanny. Oh, mamma! Mrs. p. Bring a chair and sit down by me. Fanny {sitting down hy Mrs. Pelican's side— aside). I wonder what's coming? Mrs. p. I have 'something serious to say to you, Fanny. Fanny. So have I to you, mamma — very serious! Mrs. p. Indeed ! In the mean time, as I happen to be your mother, and you, consequently, happen to be my daughter, per- haps you'll allow me to hegm. first? Fanny. Certainly, Mrs. p. Then listen. Although you are still very young — Fanny. Nineteen next birthday, mamma. Mrs. p. Don't interrupt me! Although you are still young, I have been reflecting a good deal lately on that all-important subject, your future settlement in life! Fanny {quickly). So have I, mammal {Aside.) I shall be able to get in a word presently about Augustus ! Mrs. p. In other words, don't you consider it high time you thought of matrimony? Fanny {very quickly). I do, mamma ! I'm always thinking of it! Mrs. p. But of course it isn't likely you can have any one in your eye yet I Fanny. I beg your pardon ! Ihavef Mrs. p. {severely). What's that you say? Fanny. That is — I mean— of course I hain't! {Aside.) It won't do to say anything about Augustus yet ; I must keep him dark! Mrs. p. Then you have no positive antipathy to the married state ? Fanny. I should think not, indeed ! {very quickly). Mrs. p. {severely). My dear, I'm really surprised to hear a 94 AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. well - educated young lady express herself in such, I might al- most say indelicate, terms. But to return ; I need not say I would not encourage any candidate for your hand who was not deserving of you. Fanny. Of course not, mamma! He must be worthy of such a treasure ! Mrs. p. Tolerably young, and not absolutely ill-looking ! Fanny {eagerly). Certainly not! (Aside.) I call Augustus de- cidedly good-lookmg ! Mrs. p. And in the possession of ample means. Fanny {aside). Augustus has got ever so much already, be- sides two rich maiden aunts and an aged godmother ! Mrs. p. All of which qualifications are, fortunately, in the pos- session of Sir Marmaduke Mangle ! Fanny. Sir Marmaduke Mangle? Lor, mamma, you can't mean that little old man we met at Brighton, with a bad cough, a wig, and a canary-colored complexion ? Mrs. p. He's not old by any means, and is only slightly cana- ry-colored after all! However, he has seen you, he admires you, and offers you his hand, his heart, his title, and his fort- une! Fanny. But I don't love him, mamma ! I never could love him — even if I didn't love somebody else ! Mrs. p. {starting). What's that I hear? You love somebody else? Fanny. Yes, and one who loves me, and one I'm determined to marry, or die an old maid. There! Mrs. p. {angrily). Silence, miss! Fanny {impatiently). I won't silence! If you think Sir Mar- maduke such a very great catch, marry him yourself! I'll con- sent to it, and give you away into the bargain! It's quite evi- dent you were never in love! Mrs. p. I beg your pardon ! I was, intensely, with a youthful doctor! {Aside.) Poor Vicessiraus ! Ah ! {giving a long sigh). AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM, 95 Nevertheless, I married your father — and we were not so xery unhappy, considering! {To Fanny, icJio is about to speak.) Not another word! My mind is made up, so the sooner you malve up yours to become Lady Mangle the better! Enter Mrs. Major and Major at c.,folloioe(l by Joseph. Mrs. Major. Nothing so simple, Joseph ! Tell Mary to put up a bed for Miss Fanny in her mamma's room ! Mrs. p. {sharply). What's that? Put up a bed in my room? Mrs. Major. Yes! Why not? Mrs. p. Because I won't allow it! Major {aside). There they are, at it again ! Fanny. But why can't I have my own snug little room? Mrs. Major. The fact is, I have made a work-room of it for myself; besides, Fanny's proper place is with her mother. Mrs. p. Quite out of the question! The slightest noise dis- turbs my sleep. Fanny. But I sleep so very quietly, mamma — you'd scarcely hear me breathe ; I don't, and as for snoring — Mrs. p. I won't hear another word. Major. But, hang it all, Fanny must sleep someiohere! She requires a horizontal position as much as other people, Mrs. P, Then let her jQnd one— but not in my room! Mrs. Major. I insist on my wishes being carried out. Fanny {aside to Major). Oh, brother Jeremiah, if I was only in your place just for five minutes! Major {aside). She's quite right! I'm master here after all, confound it! If I'm 7iot, I ought to be; and if I ought to be, I will be, confound it ! {Aloud, and assuming an authoritative manner.) My patience is exhausted! Anarchy has presided too long over my domestic hearth. Fanny {aside to liim). Confound it! Major. Confound it! Mrs. P. io 't t » Mrs. Major, S 7 96 AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. Major. And henceforth I'm determined to be master of my own house. (Fanny icMspers Mm.) Confound it! Major. But there must be a mistress as well. Mrs. p. ) Of course! Well {anxiously), decide between Mrs. Major. ) us. Major. That's what I'm going to do. {Aside.) It's really very awkward! My mother screams loudest, but my wife screams longest; besides, I only hear my mother in the day, whereas my wife— Mrs. p. {to Major). Well? which of the two is to be mistress here? Mrs, Major. Yes, which of the two? Major {afUr a violent effort). My wife! There! I've said it. (Fanny lohispers him. ) Confound it ! Mrs. p. Ah! {screaming and falling into a chair). Mrs. Major. Come, major, and as your reward you shall hear me issue my orders in such a style, [^Exit at L. H. , hurrying Major with her, and calling, as she goes out, J oseTphl Mary! Sophia! Mrs. p. (suddenly starting up from her chair). So ! she — she's to be everybody, and I'm to be nobody! a cipher, a nouenlity! Was there ever such ingratitude? I, who left my own home to live with them, without even waiting to be asked, to give them the benefit of my experience, to take upon myself the entire con- trol of their domestic affairs — nay, even to carry my maternal affection so far as not to allow either of them to interfere in anything whatever! Fanny {aside). Poor dear mamma! she doesn't see that's the very reason why everything went wrong. Mrs. P, But I'll forget them, I'll renounce them, I'll cast them off, I'll abandon them to their unhappy fate; and when you're comfortably married, dear, I'll come and live with you {throwing her arms round Fanny, icho tries to speak). No thanks, I see you are literally bursting with gratitude ; but I am AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. 97 rewarded already ! I feel it here — here ! {striking her breast, then flings her arms round Fanny again, and hurries out atn. h.). Fanny. Mercy on us! here's a pretty piece of business! Live with me when I am married! Poor Augustus! he little suspects what a rod there is in pickle for him! It's all Jeremiah's fault, and it's poor little I who am punished. TfoCTO-R {without). In the parlor, is she? Very well! Fanny. Surely that's dear Doctor Pretty well's voice! Enter Doctor at c. Doctor. Ah! my dear young friend, delighted to see you! Fanny. Not more than I am to see you, doctor! Doctor. But let me look at you. How we're grown ! I declare we're quite a young woman ! Fanny. Yes, doctor. Doctor. And a very pretty one, too ! Fanny". Yes, doctor. Doctor {looking intently at Fanny). She's the very image of her mother as she teas thirty years ago ; the same soft blue eyes, before she took to spectacles, the same fairy form, before it filled out, the same alabaster brow, before the wrinkles set in ! Fanny (aside). How earnestly he looks at me ! I hope I hain't fascinated him as well as Sir Marmaduke! {Suddenly.) Good- ness me! what if he should be the "youthful doctor" mamma was speaking about? {Doctor looks at her again and gives a loud sigh.) What a sigh! It must be he. He may still have some lingering affection for her ; the flame may not be quite burnt out ; there may be a tiny spark left which a little gentle bloicing may rekindle into a blaze. It isn't very likely; still, I may as well try what a little "blowing" may do. Doctor. Well, now that your education is completed, and you've come home brimful of accomplishments, of course you'll go into society, and, like other young ladies, pick up a hus- band? 98 AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. Fanny {witli affected indifference). A husband? Not I, indeed! I've never even thought of such a thing! {Aside.) I had no idea I could fib so well! {Aloud.) No, doctor! I've too much regard for my own tranquillity, my own peace of mind ! Doctor. Hoity-toity! "Who's been putting such nonsense into your head? Fanny. "Why, you yourself never ventured on matrimony ! Doctor. No ! because I — I — Heigh-ho ! {giving a loud sigh). Fani^y {aside, and smiling). The "tiny spark " is gradually getting into a blaze! I did quite right in trying the effect of a little "blowing /" (Aloud.) Besides, I have come to the conclu- sion, from considerable personal experience, that the male sex in general — I mean, taken in a lump — is no better than it should be. Doctor (laugMng). Indeed! Fanny. I'm sorry to say they're a false, fickle, perfidious lot! They gain a poor confiding woman's heart only to trifle with it and trample on it ! Poor dear mamma ! I am no longer surpiised at your little fits of temper — at your discontent with everything and everybody — now that I know the sad circumstances which blighted your youth and cast a gloom over your after-life ! {with affected pathos). Doctor (aside). What do I hear? {Aloud, and anxiously.) Has your mother, then, revealed? Fanny. No; but she might just as well, because I was sure to find it out. Doctor. Find out ichat f Fanny. A lot of things! Ah, doctor! if 3'ou had only heard her sigh as I have ! Doctor. Sigh? Fanny. Yes; but that's not all. Poor mamma! You'd hard- ly believe the number of pearly drops I've seen fall from her poor eyes into her teacup. Doctor. Pearly drops? Fanny. But that's not all ! {In a very mysterious manner. ) I AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. 99 once lieard her, when she h'ttle thought I was listening, say, in faltering accents, "Ah! if he had really loved me, would he not have declared his passion when I became a widow?" Doctor. Did she? (Aside.) She loves me still! Dear Cleo- patra ! Fanny. Who can she mean? I should so like to know. Per- haps, doctor, you'll help me to find out ; but here she comes (looking toicards c. Doctor gives a violent start). Why, what's the matter? Doctor. Nothing; only a sort of a kind of a— of a — I scarce- ly know whether I am standing on my head or my heels! Fanny. On your head, of course ! Doctor. I thought so. Mrs. p. (heard tcitJiout). Joseph! Joseph! Doctor (aside). I can't meet her yet. The agitation — the trepidation — the perturbation — the — Fanny. Perhaps you'd better retire, doctor, (aside) or else he'll be flopping down on his knees to mamma before I've prepared her for the shock ! Enter Mrs. Pelican at r. yl. , folloiced by Joseph. Mrs. p. Joseph, inform your master that I shall dine in my own apartment. [Joseph hows and goes out r. h. Doctor meets Mrs. Pelican as she comes down — looks tenderly at her — clasps his hands, and gives a deep sigh; then hurries up — stops again at c. — turns — gives her another ten- der look — another deep sigh, and hurries out at c. Mrs. p. (loatcliing Doctor in astonishment). Why, what's the matter with the man? Fanny (aside). It's your turn now, mamma! You wanted to get a husband for me; so as one good turn deserves another, I'll see if I can't find one for you ! 100 AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. Mrs. p. {aside). I must find out who this "girlish fancy "of hers is. (Aloud.) Come here, Fanny. Of course your happiness is all I desire ! Fanny. And it's all /desire too, mamma! Mrs. p. Then have confidence in your mother — your only mother! Tell me the name of the young man who has won your affections. Fanny. You asked me if I had any one in my eye, and I said I had, but I didn't tell you he was a young man. The fact is, mamma, I've been so often told that I am so giddy, so thoughtless, so flighty, that I selected some one of maturer years ; he would give me the benefit of his experience — his advice— his — his — Mrs. p. Maturer years? Fanny. Yes! Besides, he has known me so long! — ever since I was a tiny little mite. He used to dandle me on his knee, and buy me dolls and toys and sweeties and hardbake and elecam- pane, and all that sort of thing ! Mrs. p. {aside). Known her for years! {Suddenly.) Mercy on us! can she be alluding to " Vicessimus?"' Fanny. But, ma dear, that which attracted more than all was the respectful, I may say the affectionate, terms in which he al- ways speaks of you. Mrs. p. Does he? {Aside. ) Poor fluttering heart, be still ! Dear Vicessimus! He hain't, then, quite forgot his Cleopatra! {Aloud.) But is Doctor Prettywell — for it surely must be he to whom your remarks apply — Fanny. Yes, mamma. Mrs. p. {aside). I thought so. {Aloud.) Is he aware of your somewhat foolish partiality ? Fanny, I think so. He'll tell you why! Whenever he used to call, and we happened to be sitting side by side— I mean you and I, mamma— I noticed that he always kept his eye fixed on us, and it always made me blush so. AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. 101 Mrs. p. {aside). Poor simple child. She flatters herself that it was on he7' that Vicessimus's enamoured glances were riveted, Fanny. And don't you recollect the last time he took us to the theatre, how attentive, how polite he was to you? Mrs. p. Yes. I remember he brought me three oranges and an ounce of acidulated drops into our box. Fanny. And if you only had heard him just now, when I told him how shamefully you had been treated here! "What!" he exclaimed, turning quite red in the face and tearing his hair out in handf uls. ' ' What ! Dare to offer such an affront to so good, so amiable, so excellent a woman — a woman born to com- mand, born to be beloved!" Mrs. p. Did he? Enter Joseph at r. h. Joseph. Please, ma'am — and wishes to know if you are dis- engaged? Mrs. p. I'll come to him. {Exit Joseph r. h.) How shall I meet him? how conceal my feelings? Once more, poor little fluttering heart, be still! {Aside, and looking «^ Fanny). Poor Fanny! I shall be sorry to cut her out; but constancy like Vi- cessimus's deserves, and shall have, its reward ! \^Exit «^ R. H. Fanny. There! I flatter myself I've managed that rather clev- erly. I've given tranquillity to Jeremiah, happiness toGeorgina ; I've got mamma a husband, and — But stop a bit! who's to get one for ine f Oh dear, dear ! I haven't half done yet I Enter Mrs. Major very hurriedly at c. Mrs. Major. Oh! what shall I do? what shall I do? Fanny. Georgina dear, what's the matter? Mrs. Major. Oh, Fanny, such an event! I quite forgot to tell you that a person — I can't call him a gentleman— has been following me about everywhere in the most persevering, the most audacious manner, for the last month! 102 AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. Fanny, What a contrast to Augustus ! Mrs, Major, And at last he has actually had the effrontery to write to me. A groom called just now with a letter, and was in the act of giving it to Mary, with strict injunctions to deliver it to me, and to me only, when my husband suddenly appeared and snatched the letter out of his hand. Fanny (aside). Something more for me to do! I shall never get my work done here ! Mrs. Major. He must have read the letter by this time ! Oh, what, what will he think of me? But here he comes! and what a dreadful temper he looks in ! Filter Major hurriedly at c, looking very wild and agitated, a let- ter in his hand; comes forward. Major {folding his arms and assigning a tragic attitude). So, madam; I repeat "So, madam!" You may tremble at the sight of your hitherto too confiding but now indignant husband! Mrs. Major. But, Jeremiah dear — Major. Don't "Jeremiah dear " me! Are you aware, unhap- py v/oman, that I might give you in charge to the police? No, I don't mean that — that I might insist on a separation? or call your ignoble accomplice out and shoot him? — which I would do, if I were sure he wouldn't shoot 7ne ! But no ! I prefer to ex- pose, to unmask you! Enter M.119,. Pelican hastily at c.,folloiDed hy Doctor. Mrs. p. What is all this disturbance about? What has hap- pened? Major. You've arrived just in time! I only wish the en- tire universe were assembled in this breakfast - room to hear me! Mrs. Major (shrugging her shoulders). Pshaw! they could only laugh at your absurd suspicions! Major. Suspicions? Come, I like that, when I have the proofs AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. 103 — you hear, madam, the proofs of your misconduct ! — this letter, madam! this letter! {producing letter and flourishing it). Mrs. P. A letter! Major. Yes! listen, and shudder! {taking letter out of enve- lojjc, loliich he lets fall on stage, then reading in an impressive tone). " Star of my life, idol of my heart!" That's pretty well to be- gin with! {Beading again.) "Ever since the God of Love first presented you to my enraptured orbs!" (Aside.) What does the fellow mean by "orbs?" {Reading again.) "I have loved you" —point of admiration; here it is, there's no mistake about the point of admiration ! (shoiDing letter to Mrs. P. and Doctor). But that's not all! {Reads again.) "In order to bask in your divine presence, I am prepared to sweep every obstacle from my path." There's a sanguinary ruffian ! Of course /'m one of the obstacles to be swept away ! Mrs. p. And how is the letter signed? Major. There is no signature! Fanny {aside). That's fortunate ! {picking up the envelope un- seen and putting it in her pockety. Major {to Mrs. Major). Now, madam, what have you to say? Mrs. Major. Simply this, that I am more than ever indignant at your preposterous and odious suspicions. Fanny {suddenly confronting Major). So am I! You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Jeremiah ! and so ought you, mamma, and so ought everybody! And what's more, I'm determined that poor, dear, innocent Georgina shall be no longer unjustly accused ! Mrs. P. j.^i^^t,gti^^t? Major. ) Fanny. I dare say I shall be scolded, but I'm used to that ; in fact, I rather like it; and after all it was sure to be found out sooner or later; in a word — that letter — Mrs. P. Well? 104 AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. Fanny. "Was intended for me ! Mrs. Major {aside to her). Fanny ! Fanny {aside to her). Hush ! I'm engaged in a little business of my oicn now ! Mrs. P For you? Fanny. Yes! although 1 particularly told him not to write to me. Mrs. p. Told him? Told icho? Fanny. Augustus! Mrs. p. Who's Augustus? Fanny. My Augustus, of course ! Mrs. Major. I can confirm Fanny's words, having been in possession of the whole particulars for the last hour. Major. Have "you? Then, perhaps, you can furnish us with Augustus's other name — if he's got one {satirically). Mrs. Major. Certainly — Noodle. Fxi!iNY (very quickly). No — Boodle! Doctor. Augustus Boodle? Let me see! of course! I first met him at Cheltenham! Fanny. So did I. Doctor. He was only a lad then, and was going into the army — to distinguish himself, as he said. Fanny. I can't say whether he did distinguish himself, but I know that he very soon distinguished me / Doctor. The Boodles of Gloucestershire. There's not a more respected family in the county ! Corne, my dear Mrs. Pelican, if you'll take my advice, you'll not hesitate in accepting Augus- tus Noodle — I mean Boodle — as a son-in-law ! Mrs. p. Well, I'll think the matter over, and then, perhaps, I may say yes. Fanny (coaxingly). Suppose you say yes first, mamma, and think the matter over afterwards? Mrs. p. {ironically). But, Fanny, what about a certain party of "maturer years,'' on whose experience you proposed to rely? AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. 105 Fanny, Let me ask you, mamma, would it have been dutiful in a daughter to deprive her mother of the object of her early affection? Major. What's that? "Early affection!"—" object!" Mrs. P. Yes; there stands the object {'pointing to Doctor). In a word, I have been induced to accept the hand of Doctor Pretty well, from his many amiable qualities and {aside to Doc- tor) his constancy. Here, Vicessimus {holding her hand out to him). Doctor. Thanks, Cleopatra {taking her hand and kissing it). Major {very timidly to Mrs. Major). Georgina, can you for- give your Jeremiah? I don't know how I may look^ but you've no idea how small I feel. Mrs. Major. This once I do ! but remember, this once only. There {giving her hand to Major). Major. Then, in spite of all petty domestic discords, every- body is happy at last. Fanny. Which only proves the truth of the old adage, that "After a storm comes a calm." THE CURTAIN FALLS. EXPRESS! 3^ailtoaj) Homance, in #ne Compartment. {Adapted from the French.) DRAMATIS PERSONS. A Lady. A Gentleman, A Railway Guard. [The action is supposed to take place in a first-class railway-car- riage, travelling on a certain line between a certain place and anoth- er certain place.] Scene. — A plain interior, supposed to represent a compartment in a first-class railway -carriage ; door in flat at c. — the entrance —four easy-chairs placed two and two 02ij)osite the others, repre- senting the seats — on the second chair at l. h. an open news- paper. The actor playing the part of the gentleman enters at door c. in light overcoat, with travelling -hag, hat-box, and railway-rug over his arm; he places the hag, hat-ho.v, and rug on first chair, l. h., and advances, cap in hand, and, after sundry hows, proceeds to explain the scene to the audience. Ladies and gentlemen : The little piece we are about to present to you is supposed to take place in a first-class compartment of a railway-carriage, travelling express from — from— Plymouth to London; shall we say Plymouth to London? — very well — Plymouth to London. You will also be good enough to see in the humble individual who is now ad- dressing you, a deputj^- assistant -deputy -inspector of Govern- ment prisons, returning from an official visit to that well-known and, judging from the constant stream of applications for ad- mission, highly popular convict establishment at — at — Dart- 107 mouth; shall we say Dartmouth? — be it so, we'll say Dartmouth! Our first idea, in order to impart a greater reality to the situation, was to place before you a regular train with locomotive, etc., etc., all complete, and for this purpose we applied to a certain railway company for the loan of one; but the secretary, in reply, said that the only materials he could offer us were cattle-trucks and coal-wagons, all the passenger rolling-stock being in requi- sition, owing to the unusual number they had smashed up dur- ing the year. He certainly offered us tlie use of an engine, but at the same time candidly gave us to understand that it was a little bit rusty, and wouldn't stand the slightest pressure; he further added that if the knob of the steam - whistle should happen to knock out the front teeth of any of the audience, we were not to blame htm if we had a few compensation actions to sustain! — and so on! Altogether the alternative was so dis- mal that we decided on sacrificing a flaming line in our play-bill about "flashing express," "real steam," "genuine foot-warm- ers," which we had composed for the occasion, and to fall back upon the best scene that our stage-carpenter and property-man could prepare for us. We must, therefore, ask you to bring your imaginations to our aid, and to fancy you see in that door and in these four easy- chairs the interior of a first-class compartment of a railway-car- riage, and to imagine further that I have passed the night in one of them, and am at the present moment still enjoying a pro- found sleep. And now, ladies and gentlemen, permit me to enter into my part, to seat myself in the snuggest corner I can find, and to re- sume my interrupted nap! {makes a profound hoio to audience, goes up stage, and seats himself on the first chair, l. h. ; puts on his travelling-cap, icraps himself up in the railway-rug, after having placed on the second chair, l., his travelling-hag, a raihoay guide, and a paper-knife ; he then yaicns once or twice, then falls asleep, and after a time snores gently^ Zfiud nok^ of train arriving, with 108 steam-engine, railway-bell, and lohistle, as the train is supposed to arnve and gradually to stop). Guard {heard without). Reading! Change here for Guildford, Dorking, Reigate, Redhill! Voice (without). Guard, how long do we stop here? Guard (without). Ten minutes, sir ! (Cities of "Beading; change here," etc., etc., etc., repeated, and gradually diminishing, accompanied by noise of slamming doors, etc. ) Gentleman (starting from Ms sleep). What's that ? Who speaks of stopping ? I wonder what the time is ? {Looks at watch. ) Seven o'clock? (Opens door and looks out.) Broad daylight, I de- clare {closing door again) ; then I must have slept the best part of the night! I don't even remember my travelling companion get- ting out; he seems to have forgotten his newspaper {taking up paper from chair). Not a very talkative fellow; in fact, he nev- er opened his mouth, except to put something into it — princi- pally Abernethys and peppermint -drops. By Jove, his Daily News is full of crumbs and caraways now!— a regular pantry! Guard (again Jieard without). Reading! Ten minutes to stop! Gentleman. Ten minutes to stop? Then I may as well get out and stretch my legs a bit (rises, jnits railway-rug , guide, and travelling-bag on his seat, and goes to door c. ; then calls). Guard, whereabouts is the refreshment-bar? Guard {without). This way, sir (Gentleman goes out at door c. towards r. h. — short pause). The Lady looks in at c. and stops; then enters with two small par- cels and a bonnet-box. Lady. Yes ; all things considered, I decidedly prefer this car- riage to the ladies' compartment, where there's only room for one, and then what should I do with my packages? Besides, ladies are not so remarkably agreeable among themselves; while here — (looking about her). Let me see, which corner shall I take? I think this will do (indicating the seat which the Gentleman has EXPRESS ! 109 jicst left) ; one's face to the engine, and not so likely to be trou- bled by people getting in and out; yes, this will do very well in- deed! {during this she removes the Gentleman's effects from first chair L. H. to the opposite chair at r.) And after all, provicivjd one has a gentleman for a travelling companion, a host of these little difficulties soon disappear! {Seats herself on first chair l. h.). There! I shall do very nicely here— very nicely indeed! (^Here the Gentleman apjiears outside at door c.) Some one's coming! one of the opposite sex! I hope a gentleman. Suppose I pretend to be asleep? I will! I'll shut my eyes, and then I shall be able to judge of his appearance ! {wraps herself up so as to con- ceal her face, and pretends to he asleep). Gentleman (entering at door and stamping his feet). I feel all the better! Thanks to a glass of sherry and half a dozen rapid turns up and down the platform, the circulation is re-established; so now for another dose of pins and needles. Holloa! what's this?— my seat taken, and all my things bundled away anyhow on another seat ! Well, of all the cool proceedings— ( To the Lady.) I beg pardon, madam, but— Asleep? Kather a sudden attack of drowsiness, considering she can't have been here more than five minutes! However, she's a lady — at least she looks like one, though she is such a cool hand, and I can't be so ungallant as to turn her out, especially as she looks so snug and comfortable ! I must take another corner! {He seats himself on second chair at l. 'B.., partly turning his hack to the Lady.) Lady {aside and partly uncovering her face). I knew these lit- tle difficulties would soon arrange themselves ! {icraps herself up as hefore). Gentleman {fidgeting ahout in his seat). I was much more comfortable in my own seat. There was a nice hollow for one's back there ; but here there's a confounded lump that's positive- ly painful! I must confess I have found that women in general haven't the slightest hesitation in taking advantage of one if they possibly can. Here's an instance; just as I had got used to my 110 ^ EXPRESS ! seat, in comes one of the weaker sex and turns me out bag and baggage! They know their power, and abuse it: too bad! Now (tooking aside at Lady) if my neighbor were but young — and pretty into the bargain— but no; catch a woman wrapping her- self up like that when she in young {gaping) and pretty! {His liead nods once or ticice, and he falls asleep. ) Guard {without). Take your seats! Any more going on? Lady {cautiously peeping at Gentleman, then uncovering, and aside). So it seems I shall have no other travelling companion but this gentleman ! {Here loud raihcay -whistle heard, and noise of train starting.) We're off. {Looking atGENThEMAi^ again.) I must say he appears to be perfectly harmless and inoffensive. (Gen- tleman snores. ) What did he say ? {A louder snore from Gentle- man). Well, if that's a specimen of his conversation, it isn't like- ly to compromise one ! (A nother snore. ) I may as well go to sleep myself, and then, perhaps, I may be able to join in the conversation too ! ( Wraps herself up, hut this time allows her face to remain un- covered; closes her eyes; pause.) Gentleman {suddenly waking and shifting Ids p>osition). De- cidedly, of all the uncomfortable seats this is the most uncom- fortable. 1 should like to know what they stuff their cushions with; I feel as if I'd got a quartern loaf at my back! {Taking a rapid glance at Lady, then, in a savage tone.) She seems comfort- able enough! How absurd— how ridiculous of me not to have demanded — not to have in-sis-ted. {Looking again afLhUY.) By Jove, she is young! and by no means bad-looking! Bad-look- ing! she's pretty — very pretty — excessively pretty! and to think I should have actually gone to sleep in her presence ! One never knows what one does in one's sleep; luckily, I never snore; that's one comfort ! ( Takes off his travelling -cap, arranges his hair, cra- vat, etc.) How soundly she sleeps — if she does sleep! {in doubf). When one is really asleep— I mean fast asleep^t isn't usual to wear a smile on one's face; on the contrary, one's face generally gets ugly! I'll be bound that just now I was positively hideous! EXPKESS ! Ill {He coughs loudly, the Lady moves.) She wakes! {Suddenly and loudly.) What a beautiful country! what a lovely green on those meadows! {Lady keeps silence.) I'll try again !^ {Still louder.) How unusually beautiful are the autumn tints, especially so early in the spring! {Pause; aside.) No response? She must have taken a sleeping draught ! Lady {pretending to tcake). A thousand pardons, sir; did you speak? Gentleman. I was merely observing what a lovely meadow on those greens ! I mean (^another pause) I hear the harvest is likely to be a plentiful one, although I'm told that turnips are backward; I haven't heard anything about carrots. Lady {in an indifferent tone). I beg pardon; were you speak- ing to me? {Aside.) Some gentleman farmer, evidently. Gentleman {nettled, and imitating her — aside). "Were you- speaking to me?" I rather think I was speaking to her! Holloa! she's off to sleep again! No one can call her particularly wide- awake. Well, since she's off into land of dreams again, I don't see why I shouldn't indulge in a cigarette {takes out some cigarette papers, tobacco pouch, spreads them on his knees and proc4ieds to make a cigarette; then stops). Stop, though! I can't smoke with- out first asking her permission ; of course not ! {Aloud, and cough- ing. ) Ahem ! ( Watching her.) Sound as a top ! Try again ! ( Cough- ing louder. ) Ahem ! ( The Lady opens her eyes and moves impatient- ly—aside.) That did it! Gentleman {apologetically). My cough is rather troublesome, ma'am. Lady. I find it so— very ! Gentleman {aside). Well! that's about the rudest thing I've heard for some time! {Aloud.) I was about to ask you whether you object to the smell of tobacco? Lady. Oh, not at all, sir! Gentleman. Thank you! {proceeds to make his cigarette, and about to light it). 8 112 EXPRESS ! Lady. I mean, not till it's lighted ! Gentleman. Oh, I see; and then you do? Lady. Very much, indeed ! Gentleman. Even when you are asleep? {in an insinuating tone). Lady {slowly and decisively). Whether I am awake or asleep, sir! Gentleman {aside). Now that's what I call selfish— just as if the smoke could get up her nose when her eyes are shut! {jmt- ting away his smoking apparatus. Aside). I must say I have met more agreeable young ladies — very much more agreeable — in fact, I may say I never remember meeting one less agreeable. Well, I sha'n't disturb the "Sleeping Beauty " again in a hurry. Now for another nap ! {sulkily crams siTioking apparatus into his pocket, draws his cap mry much over his head, stands up, folds himself up in his rug, and then flounces down on his seat agoAn^ partially turn- ing his back to the Lady). Lady, {sloicly turning her head and taking a glance at Gen- tleman). Well, I must confess he put away his smoking appa- ratus with a very good grace! {Sees newspaper.) Some one has left a newspaper! {Taking newspaper and reading.) Um, um! Plymouth Gazette. "Foreign News, "" Paris Fashions, " "Ear- ly Strawberries. " What's this ? ' ' Escape of a convict. We learn that Benjamin Burkshaw, a criminal of the most desperate char- acter, effected his escape from Dartmoor prison yesterday. The following is his description: Age, not exactly known; eyes, noth- ing peculiar; wears a long black beard — has probably cut it off; walks slightly lame with one leg, uncertain which ; supposed to have directed his steps towards London, or in some other direc- tion." Dear me! it is just possible he may be in this very train! {looking aside at the Gentleman, then reading again). "Middle height" {looking again at Gentleman); "inclined to be stout" {another look at Gentleman); he's so rolled up in his rug one can't judge! {Reads again.) " Slightly bald, with a scar on left EXPRESS ! 113 side of forehead " {here the Gentleman in his sleep hastily pulls his travelling-cap over his forehead; the Lady gives a sudden start, and recoils as far as possible from the Gentleman). How very suddenly he pulled his cap over his forehead — and the left side of it too ! Pshaw ! how foolish, how absurd of me ! {Reads paper again, and then closes her eyes once more.) Gentleman {roudng himself). It's no use! I can't get a wink of sleep, except by fits and starts— principally starts ! {Looking at Lady.) Still asleep ! and no book to read except this "Illus- trated Guide through England and Wales." However, that's better than " Bradshaw." {During above he has taken a book out of his bag, and cuts the leaves with a paper-knife; turns over leaves.) What's this? {Reads.) ' ' Maidenhead. It was in the neighborhood of this picturesque town that the famous Dick Turpin — " {Here the Lady and Gentleman are suddenly thrown forward.) Lady {alarmed). What a shock! Has anything happened? Gentleman {indifferently). Nothing of consequence ! merely the train passing over something — or somebody! Lady {aside). Rather an unfeeling remark! {Aloud.) Can you tell me where we are, sir? I am quite a stranger to this line. Gentleman. We should be near Slough. You may not be aware, madam, that it was here that — {taking a peep aside at his book) — "that the famous Dick Turpin" — you've heard of Dick Turpin, of course — the celebrated highwayman ? (Lady shakes her head). Well, it was hefe that he was in the habit of spend- ing his leisure hours — I mean when he'd nothing better to do — in — in {taking another peep at book) — "in planting potatoes!" — Poor Dick ! my great-grandfather saw him hanged ! Lady {shocked). Hanged? Gentleman. Yes — I forget exactly what for — something about putting an old lady on the kitchen fire ! Lady {indignantly). Surely, never was a fate more richly de- served! 114 EXPRESS ! Gentleman. On the contrary, she was quite a respectable sort of old body ! Lady {aloud, and in a satirical tone). Thanks, sir, for your kind and interesting information ! Gentleman iinodestly). Don't mention it, I beg! Lady (aside). A newspaper correspondent, perhaps! I prefer that to a farmer! Gentleman {after a short pause). I find the sun rather too warm on this side of the carriage, madam — will it inconvenience you if I take this seat? {indicating first chair at r.). Lady. Not in the least! Indeed, I should have the less right to object, as I am afraid I have appropriated yours; and by far the more comfortable one, I suspect ! Gentleman. You simply foresaw that I should offer it to you, madam ! Lady. Oh, m:\ ipowing). Gentleman. Oh, madam! {poicing ; he removes things from where the Lady had placed them, and seats himself opposite to her). Lady {aside). Really a very pleasant, agreeable fellow ! Gentleman {aside). Her full face is even better than her pro- file! {Aloud, and in a sentimental tone.) Ah, madam ! would it were in my power to prolong this pleasant journey — this delight- ful tete-a-tete ! Lady {with dignity). Sir! Gentleman {aside). That's no gu! \Aloud.) I mean, madam, that one seems to travel too fast nowadays ! (Lady expresses sur- prise.) In fact, we're all too fast! Lady {severely). Sir! Gentleman {aside). Thafs no go ! {Aloud.) We've only to contrast the present with the time when the wife of one of our ancient kings traversed the whole of England by easy stages of five miles a day! Lady. Of whom do you speak? Gentleman. Of— of — {Aside.) Hang me if I know! {Aloud.) EXPRESS ! 115 Of Tabitha — I mean Elgitha,the wife of— Edmund — Sobersides — I should say Ironsides ! But without going quite so far back, madam, I confess I often regret the days of those heavy old stage- coaches called "High-flyers," "Eclipses," and "Rockets." Lady {smiling). Because they went so slowly? Gentleman. Precisely. Still, it had its advantages — it gave one an opportunity to make the acquaintance of one's travelling companions— to establish a friendly feeling — perhaps one of a more tender nature ! {with a tender look at the Lady). Lady {xmth a stare of astonishment). Sir! Gentleman {aside). It's no use. I won't try any more ! {Aloud, and in a more colloquial tone.) Besides, in a stage-coach there was always the chance of one of those little adventures that so often happened on the road ! Lady. You mean attacks by highwaymen, such as your friend Mr. — Turpin — who had a weakness for putting respectable old ladies on the kitchen tire? {smiling satirically — then, changing her tone). I remember myself a certain event which happened some five or six years ago when we were travelling. Gentleman. We? You and your pa and ma, probably? Lady. My husband and I ! Gentleman. Husband ? 5^ou are married, ma'am ! actually, positively married? Lady. Alas, sir! {sighing). Gentleman {aside). I see ! an unhappy union ! — an ill-assorted match — poor soul! {Aloud.) Ah, madam, you are not the only one of your too confiding sex who have found marriage a bed of roses— I mean, of nettles, instead of one of nettles — I mean roses 1 Lady. But, sir— you mistake — alas, sir, I am a widow! Gentleman. A widow? I'm delighted to hear it! No, I'm not! of course not! I deeply sympathize with you — as I always do with widows — I know what it is myself. But you mustn't give way — you'll get used to it in time— like the eels — no, not 116 EXPRESS ! like the eels — but you were about to mention some adventure which happened to you while travelling w4th — the late lamented. {Noise heard of train graduaUy stopping — engine, raikcay-hell, wlds- tle, etc.) Voice {o2itside, gradually approaching). ' ' Slough ! Slough ! change for Windsor; all tickets ready." Gentleman {angrily). All tickets ready! these railway com- panies are perfectly absurd, with their mania for examining tick- ets! {feeling in Ms pockef). Lady {smiling). Another advantage of the good old coaching days! Gentleman. Yes, quite so! {feeling again in Ms pockets, one after the other'). Ah! here it is— no, it isn't — how very odd; now I've got it — no, I haven't ! {diving in his p^ockets again). Lady, I'm afraid you've lost your ticket, sir. Gentleman. Oh no ! I haven't lost it — only I can't find it ! Lady. You may have dropped it? {looking about on floor). Gentleman. Pray don't trouble yourself; I shall be sure to find it — {aside) as soon as I've paid for another! {Aloud.) I'll just speak to the station-master. Excuse me a moment ? (Lady hows, Gentleman exit at c, and disappears toicardsia. h.) Lady. Poor fellow! no wonder he dislikes railways if he's in the habit of losing his ticket every time he travels! GuABD appears at door c. Guard {to Lady). Ticket, please, ma'am? {Takes ticket, and re- turns it to Lady.) Thank you, ma'am. {Seeing the Gentleman's bag, etc., on seat.) These things belong to you, ma'am? Lady. Oh no ! ' Guard. Has any one left this carriage? Lady. Yes ! a gentleman — not a minute ago. Guard {sulkily). How can I examine people's tickets when they get out at every station? Lady. He fancies he has lost his ticket. EXPRESS ! 117 Guard {suspiciously). Lost his ticket? — what a pity! {Aside.) That's an old dodge! {Aloud.) Is the gentleman one of your party, ma'am? Lady. Oh dear no! only so far as we are journeying in the same compartment. Guard {examining the Gentleman's hag). No name on his travelling-bag— that's queer! We're expected to keep both eyes open on this line, ma'am— only yesterday we nabbed a desperate bank forger at this very station; and we're on the lookout for an escaped convict to-day! Lady {aside). An escaped convict ? that dreadful Mr. Burkshaw, no doubt? Not a very cheerful subject of conversation — I'm really getting quite nervous ! {collecting her packages and rising). Guard. Going to get out, ma'am? Lady. Yes, I should prefer the ladies' compartment. Guard. No room there, ma'am ; eight of 'em already, besides babies ! Lady. I may get into another carriage, I presume? Guard. Certainly, ma'am. Good-day, ma'am {goes out at door). Lady. Stop ! stop ! Help me out ! Guard ! guard ! {calling). Guard {outside). Can't stop now, ma'am. Train just going on. Lady. This is really too bad ! Can't even change carriages on this line, which seems to be especially patronized by the crimi- nal classes! But pshaw! I'm alarming myself unnecessarily. Is it likely that this gentleman— and *he is a gentleman— who seems to be on intimate terms with the wife of Edmund Iron- sides — can possibly have any connection with — How absurd of me! I really ought to be ashamed of myself. {Seeing tJie paper- knife lohich the Gentleman has left on seat. ) What a strange-look- ing paper-knife — quite a formidable weapon! Is it a paper- knife ? it looks more like a stiletto ! ( Taking up paper-knife very carefully between her finger and thumb, and then quickly dropping it again). Such an instrument as that was never made to cut leaves ! It looks much adapted to— {Shuddering. ) How ridiculous of me ! 118 EXPRESS ! My silly fears are running away with me again. Ha, ha, hal {forcing a lavgh). Guard {without). Take your seats! Gentleman hurries in at c. The Lady suddenly stops laughing, and gets as far as she can into her corner. Gentleman. I've found my ticket! I knew I should the mo- ment I bought another. {Takes his seat. To the Lady). Where do you suppose it was?— you'll never guess. In my purse, where I always put my tickets! Ha, ha, ha! Lady {aside). He had a ticket, then ? Gentleman. It is very kind of you to interest yourself in the misfortunes of a stranger {boicing). Lady. Is it not natural? Gentleman. It seems to be so to you, madam {boicing again and moving a little toicards Lady, who retreats). Lady {aside). If I could only induce him to remove his travel- ling-cap—not that I should discover the slightest scar on Jiis forehead— I should then be completely reassured. {Suddenly.) Pardon me— is not that a friend of yours bowing to you on the other platform? {indicating the audience). Gentleman. Bowing to me? where? {putting his hand to his cap). Lady {pointing). There! {Aside.) Now for it! Gentleman {lowering his hand again without removing his cap). No, ma'am, I don't know him; besides, he's not bowing to me. Lady (aside). That's a failure ! Gentleman. Holloa! Somebody's been moving my things! Lady. Yes, the guard! — he seemed curious — I might say anxious— to ascertain if your name was on your travelling-bag! Gentleman. Very inquisitive of him I Why should I make my name public property?— there may be reasons why I should ,^tf — pressing reasons! You can understand that, madam? EXPRESS 1 119 Lady. Y — es ! I'm afraid I can — I mean, of course I can ! Gentleman, But, as I was saying, the interest you have so kindly taken in me — a perfect stranger — Lady {mry quickly). Not at all, sir; on the contrary! No— that is — Gentleman. Permit me to continue. That interest, I repeat, comes naturally to you, blessed, as I'm sure you are, with so sweet, so gentle, so affectionate a disposition. Lady {very quickly). Quite the reverse, I assure you, sir— I've a dreadful temper! Gentleman. Again: that charming hand is not less charac- teristic; it requires but one glance at those delicately tapered fingers — {About to take her hand; Lady hastily withdraics it.) Lady {aside). I do believe the man's going to make love to me! Gentleman. But stay: I see one line here that is singularly prominent; permit me {taking Lady's hami). Lady (aside). I'm quite at his mercy! Not the slightest use my screaming! Gentleman {looking at her hand). Yes, a very sudden inter- section, threatening, I fear, some personal danger. Lady {alarmed). Yes, very likely! {Aside.) How intently he fixes his eyes on my diamond ring ! Gentleman. But were you not saying that you had once been exposed to some peril in travelling? Lady, Yes ; but I was not alone then. Gentleman. The "late lamented," I presume? Lady. Yes; we were attacked by robbers in crossing the Pyrenees ! ( Very quickly. ) Not that I particularly object to rob- bers! In fact, I rather like them! {Aside.) I may as well try what a little flattery will do. Gentleman {still holding her hand). You have a remarkably fine diamond here, madam ! Lady. Yes, a very good imitation, isn't it? 120 EXPRESS ! Gentleman. Excuse me. I cannot mistake a diamond — no, no; I've had too many pass through my hands to do that! Lady {aside). I'm afraid Jie has! Gentleman. And yet there's a flaw in it — if you'll allow me, I'll point it out to you. {Looking about, then suddenly taking up the paper-knife; the Lady screams.) I'm afraid I alarmed yo\i\ Lady {trying to he calm). Oh dear no ! and if you've quite done examining my hand — Gentleman. Quite, madam! {releasing her hand). Lady. And you detect no further threatening of — personal danger? Gentleman. None whatever ! Lady. Then you are a believer in spiritualism and phrenol- ogy, and all that sort of thing? Gentleman. Certainly I am ! May I ask, madam, if you have ever examined the head of a criminal? Lady {shocked). Never, sir! Gentleman. Perhaps you have never even been brought into personal contact with one? Lady. Certainly not, sir; though I'm sure I should feel the greatest pity for him — I should, indeed! (in a commiserating tone). Gentleman. Understand me; I don't allude to the milder class of criminals, such as thieves, robbers, forgers, burglars, and such like; but one of those desperate fellows who — who — in fact, who stick at nothing ! By-the-bye, I have a collection here of photographs of some of our most notorious criminals, which I think would interest you. Lady {shuddering). Yes — intensely! Gentleman {opening his travelling -hag). Ah ! {producing a re- volver) there's rather a curious story connected with this re- volver! Lady {alarmed, and trying to look unconcerned). Indeed? Gentleman. I never travel without one — every chamber EXPRESS ! 121 loaded and ready for use, so that I have six lives at my disposal — a very comfortable feeling to have! Don't you think so? Lady. Yes, very much so, indeed ! Gentleman. Here are the photographs {producing packet) \ here is one of them {about to shoio a portrait). No, I make a mistake ; this is one of myself. Lady {aghast). Yours? Gentleman (smiling). Yes! this is the one! {presenting a sec- ond portrait). You'll observe a remarkable protuberance of this part of the skull {pointing to it) ; that's the organ of destruc- tiveness. I have it myself, only not quite so strongly developed 1 (touching his head); don't you perceive it? Lady. Yes — I — see ! But I confess I cannot understand how you happen to be in possession of these remarkably Interesting — works of art? Gentleman (smiling). A very simple matter — my occupation necessitates my associating with this particular class of "her Majesty's subjects " — as I happen to be — Lady (quickly). Hush ! I know ! You need not tell me ! Gentleman {anxiously). What is the matter? You are posi- tively trembling — with cold, no doubt! Allow me to wrap this rug round you. Lady. No, no! Gentleman. Nay, I insist! {placing his rug round Lady's feet). Lady. But you will feel the want of it yourself, especially as it seems you have passed the night in the train! Gentleman. Exactly! Six hours ago I was in Dartmoor Prison 1 Lady. Dartmoor! (Aside.) He confesses it! Gentleman (smiling). Not a very attractive residence. I would gladly have left it before, but, unfortunately, I was de- tained ! Lady. Detained! 122 EXPRESS ! Gentleman {smiling). I may say chained to it — by my con- founded profession ! Lady {aside). He calls it a 2'>f'ofession ! Gentleman. There's no saying how long the Home Secre- tary might have kept me there; but I couldn't stand it any longer, so I managed to make my escape, and now I'm free once more! JjAjyY {suddenly starting up with a scream). Stop, sir! Don't say any more! Have pity on me, for mercy's sake! {falling on Iwr knees and clasping her hands). Gentleman {astounded). My dear madam — IjADY {hysterically). I know who you are; I know all about the scar on your forehead ! But I won't betray you — I won't, in- deed 1 Here, take my purse ! — take my watch ! {thrusting the articles into the Gentleman's hands) — all I have, good Mr. Burk- shaw! — but spare my life! Gentleman. Your life? Mr. Burkshaw? What — what do you mean? Lady. Mercy! mercy! Gentleman {seriously). My dear madam ! Pray compose your- self! You have evidently fallen into some strange error; in a word, I happen to be — Lady. Yes, yes! I know who you happen to be! Take my advice and jump out of the train! Gentleman {astonished). Jump out of the train? Madam, your strange conduct compels me to be serious ! In a word, I have the honor to be a Government inspector of prisons ! Lady. Eh? What? You— an inspector of prisons? Gentleman. Yes, madam {taking off his cap and bowing to Lady). Lady {eagerly looking at Gentleman's forehead). And— you haven't got a scar on your forehead? Oh, sir! if you only knew how delighted I am that you haven't got a scar on your fore- head! EXPRESS ! 123 Gentleman (beioildered). A scar on my forehead? {feeling his forehead). But may I ask what has suggested to you all these notions about thieves and robbers? Lady. Why, you've been talking about nothing else for the last quarter of an hour! Gentleman {Hrailing). 1 beg your pardon. You certainly first began the conversation about these— gentlemen. Lady. Because you said that you associated with them. Gentleman. Naturally, as an inspector of prisons. Lady. Then those portraits — in 3'our possession? Gentleman. Were taken merely to forward the ends of justice ! Lady (with a sigh of relief). I understand it all ! I can laugh at my folly now, which entirely arose from this silly newspaper paragraph — the sole cause of all my absurd terror. Gentleman. What newspaper paragraph? Lady. Read this, sir {giving Mm newspaper). Gentleman (looking at paper, and then giving way to a loud laugh). Ha, ha, ha! Why, my dear madam, this is quite an old story! Our interesting friend, Mr. Burkshaw, happened to be shot in attempting his escape from Dartmoor moi'e than twelve months ago ! {Looking at date of newspaper. ) Of course, this paper is a year old— December, 1884! Lady. So it is! Oh, sir! what must you think of me? Gentleman {in a tender tone). May I tell you? That you are the most charming travelling companion — {Here noise of train stopping, engine, railioay -whistle, etc., heard.) Voice (outside). Paddington! Paddington! (Lady and Gen- tleman both rise.) Gentleman {gallantly). I am staying some time in London, madam. Will you permit me to call upon you, if only to re- move from your mind any lingering doubt as to my perfect identity? Lady. With pleasure, sir! (Suddenly, and in a very gracious 124 EXPRESS ! tone.) Oh, sir! how very good of you to be a Government in- spector of prisons! {Jiolding out Jier hand to Gentleman, icho takes it and raises it to Ms lips). Voice {again Jieard). Paddington! {The Gentleman and Lady gather their packages and how to each other as the curtain FALLS.) TAKEN FEOM THE FRENCH. ^11 ©ri'ijfnal CComctJictta, fii ®ne ^ct. DRAMATIS PERSONvE. Sir Felix Fritterlt, | Colonel Coset. Arthur Vallance. I Lady Fritterly. Myrtle Vane. Scene.— Sir Felix Fi-itterly's Country-liouse, A handsomely furnished apartment. Bay-icindoiD {practicable) with curtains at r. u. e., conservatory c, doors r. and l., couch at R. c. , chairs, piano, etc. Colonel discovered lying on couch, his handkerchief over his head — Arthur Vallance in morn- ing costume. Arth. (looking at Colonel). Still asleep! And yet I must awake him (striking a very loud chord on the piano). Col. (jndling handkerchief off his head and sitting bolt upright on couch). Come in! (^S'mw/y Arthur.) Oh, it's you? For good- ness' sake, Arthur, don't make such an infernal noise ! Do you want to dislocate that implement of torture? Arth. Don't you like it, uncle? I thought you w^ere fond of music ! Col. You don't call that music, do you? (getting up from couch). I accept your friend Fritterly's invitation to his country- house for a few weeks' quiet — Arth. Well, you've got it, haven't you? Col. Don't interrupt me (snappishly). Arth. I was merely anticipating — 126 TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. Col. Who the deuce wants you to anticipate! Take things as I do, and wait till they come round! My idea of a quiet life is to get up at eleven, when the world has been thoroughly aired by that beneficent warming-pan, the sun; next, breakfast at twelve— twelve's a lovely hour for breakfast — have the morn- ing papers all to yourself, and escape being dragged round the grounds like the rest of the visitors — to see the early peas, and the asparagus beds, and spring onions! Arth. Ha! ha! Well, what next? Col, Breakfast over, a quiet nap; a bit of lunch at three; a heavenly slumber till dinner-time at seven; a cup of coffee, a eigar, and to bed at ten ! That's my idea of a rational, peaceful existence! Arth. You'd better by half shoulder your gun and have a pop at the partridges ! Col. Thankee — I never went out with a gun but once in my life, and then I shot a couple of dogs and a game-keeper; so I gave it up; for if I'd gone on as I began, dogs and game-keep- ers would have been at a premium long before this! Arth. Ah! it was a bad business for you, uncle, that you didn't take a wife. Col. It would have been a precious deal worse for my wife if I had! Arth. Well, every one to his taste. What you call existence /call a state of positive to^pidit3^ It may suit you; but at my age a man hungers and thirsts after a little more excitement. CoL. Then why the deuce don't you take it? Go out fishing — in the duck-pond— or go and see the cows milked, or the pigs fed ; or, better still, here's no end of excitement for you under your very nose. Arth. Where? CoL. At that window {pointing to window) ; gardener always at work rolling the lawn, or watering the flowers, or picking up worms, or killing slugs, and without the slightest fatigue for TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. 127 you; all you have to do is to settle yourself down at the win- dow— Arth. Settle down, eh? My dear uncle, that's the very thing I want to do! In a word, Myrtle Yane — Lady Fritterly's sis- ter — Col. Ugh! The old story over again, eh? Lady Fritterly's sister is a niceish sort of girl — Arth. (indignantly). Niceish sort of girl ! She's an angel ! Col. Rubbish ! Besides, as I said before, you're too young to marry yet; wait another ten or fifteen years, and then begin to look about you. You haven't popped to her, have you? Arth. Popped? CoL. Proposed! Arth. No! Col. Then how do you know she'd have you? Arth. Of course I don't Tctiow; but I think she miglit. CoL. There's a conceited young puppy for you ! Arth. (coaxingly). Especially if you'll encourage my atten- tions — like my dear, kind old uncle ! CoL. Which your "dear, kind old uncle " doesn't intend to do. Arth. You don't, eh? Yery well, then listen to me! I shall do something desperate ! CoL. Wait till I get out of the room ! {Feeling his pulse.) I thought as much ! Going like a windmill in a gale of wind ! This excitement's too much for me, I must take a sedative ! {takes pill- box out of his pocket; opens it, and tosses two pills into his mouth one after the other'). And now, young fellow, listen to me. If you are so anxious to settle, as you call it, better begin with your bootmaker! In a word, you don't marry yet with my consent. Marry without it, and I leave every shilling I've got to— to the Society for the Suppression of Yirtue — I mean the Propagation of Yice — I don't know what I'm talking about! {swalloios tico more pills, and hurries out at r,, slamming door violently after fdm). 128 TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. Arth. Just as easy to argue him out of his prejudices as it would be to make a Quaker kick his mother's — Oh ! here comes Myrtle ! What a contrast ! — he all apathy — she all impetuosity ! Of course I shall have to give her an account of my morning's employment, as usual, which consists of breakfast— three slices of toast, a rasher of bacon, a couple of eggs, and a cup of coffee! and not a bad morning's work, either ! Enter Myrtle at c. in morning dress — a large garden Tiat and gloves. Myrt. Good-morning, Mr. Vallance ! has nature no attractions for you, that you remain in-doors such a lovely day as this? Fol- lowing your uncle's example, as usual, I presume? Arth. On the contrary, I've been very hard at work, I assure you, trying to reduce my uncle's bump of obstinacy. Myrt. But in vain? — the protuberance defied your efforts. And has that been your entire morning's work? Arth. Physically, yes! Mentally, no! Myrt. The j^^iysical we'll dismiss; the mental consisting of — reading the newspaper, eh? {smiling). Arth. What can a man do such weather as this? It's too hot to walk, too early for billiards — only fit for smoking. By-the- bye, I did manage to get as far as the stables, where I had a cigar. Myrt. And this is the new leaf you promised me you would turn over — a tobacco-leaf! You are sadly deficient in energy, Mr. Vallance. Arth. I confess it. But brought up as I was from my earliest infancy under my uncle — Myrt. {smiling). Under your uncle? Arth. Yes — (suddenly) — no, of course not. I mean under his supervision— hovT can I be otherwise than I am? He resents the slightest approach to activity as a slur on himself; and the high- est compliment you can pay him is to yawn in his face {checking Qb yawn with difficulty'). TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. 129 Myrt. I beg pardon — I'm afraid I'm in the way. Arth. Not at all! But why are you in such a hurry lo go? Myrt. To allow you more leisure for {imitating Arthur's yawn) — you know ! Arth. Oh, Myrtle — do you object to my calling you Myrtle? Myrt. You should have asked that question before you did. Arth. If my tongue has been silent, surely my eyes must have spoken for me? Myrt. {stiffly). Mr. Vallance, you forget yourself! Arth. Because I was thinking of you {tenderly). Myrt. {aside). This is getting too serious. {Aloud.) But you really must excuse me. I have my plants to attend to — a favor- ite creeper especially that requires nailing up. Arth. Let me go with you. I'll make myself so useful — you'll see how hard I'll work. I'll hold the ladder for you, and hand you up the hammer and tin-tacks! Myrt. What an exertion ! And all for me! Ha! ha! ha! Arth. {annoyed). I see how it is, madam ; you've no feeling, or you wouldn't treat me so cruelly, so capriciously ! If you had the slightest particle of regard for me, you'd let me hand you up the hammer and tin-tacks ! Myrt. You accuse me of caprice ! you, who never knew what it is to be in earnest ! Arth. I am so now, I assure you. Myrt. Then listen to me, Arthur Vallance. Let me see that you possess some energy, some enthusiasm, some strength of will, then I may, perhaps, give you a better answer. Good-morn- ing. [^Qoes out at c. towards r. Arth. {calling after). Stop, Myrtle! Do let me come and hand you up the hammer and tin-tacks! So! I'm to do some- thing energetic, am I? Drown myself in the duck-pond? Yes! —no. I have it! I'll say good-by to Fritterly, and cut this place at once ! And then. Miss Vane, perhaps you'll be sorry — perhaps you'll regret that you didn't let me hand you up the 130 TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. hammer and tin-tacks! Let me see, there's an express to town at three. {Looking at Ms watch.) I can catch that. My traps can follow {hurrying up towards door L. h., and coming into collision with Sir Felix, who enters at the same time). Sir F. Holloa, old fellow, where the deuce are you off to in such a hurry ? Arth. Don't ask me — I'm going out of my mind ! Sir F. The deuce you are ! Well, if I may judge by appear- ances, it won't take you very long to get to the end of that jour- ney! Confound it, man, will you explain? Arth. Well, you know the feelings I entertain towards Miss Vane? SirF. Myrtle? Yes. Arth. Well, you'll hardly believe it; but when I proposed to her just now — Sir F. You proposed to her? {astonished). Arth. Yes — to hand her up the hammer and tin-tacks — Sir F. {astonished). Hammer and tin-tacks? What the deuce are you talking about? Arth. {helplessly). I'm sure I don't know — yes, I do. She said that when I showed a little energy— a little enthusiasm — a little something else, she'd perhaps give me a better answer. SirF. A better answer ! What on earth can that mean? Arth. I can't tell! {Suddenly.) Yes, I can, of course! It can only mean one thing {enthusiastically) — that she will let me hand her up the hammer — Sir F. {sJiouting). Confound it, drop that hammer! You've been hammering that hammer into my ears for the last ten min- utes! Now! {turning Vallance round to him face to face) speak like a man of sense — if you've got any left in you ! Arth. Well, then, I ventured to speak to my uncle — SirF. Old Cosey? Arth. Yes, old Cosey — about Myrtle, and he coolly told me I mustn't think of getting married for the next ten or fifteen years I TAKEN FliOM THE FRENCH. 131 SmF. Come, I like that! Arth. Do you? It's more than I do — unless, he said, he saw some urgent necessity for it; but that if I married without his consent he'd disinherit me. Sir F. Is that all? Arth. All ! It strikes me as being quite enough. No, it isn't all — it's only half, for Myrtle — Sir F. {cutting him shoH). Never mind Myrtle ; I know all about her. She thinks you a bit of a milksop— s — so do I ; that you've no energy — not an atom! no will of your own — never had! and that in order to reinstate yourself in her good opinion you must do something desperate! So you shall! Now what do you mean to do ? Arth. Show a proper spirit, and — run away! Sir F. Run away! Certainly not — fling yourself into my arms and I'll pull you through ! So cheer up ! Arth. It's very easy to say "cheer up " to a fellow who feels himself between two stools, with the certainty of coming down a cropper! Sir F. But what's the use of giving you advice? You'd nev- er follow it ! You haven't the pluck to do anything desperate ! Arth. I told uncle I would! But I'm not going to make away with myself merely to prove that I'm a man of my word! Sir F. Pshaw ! Now let's understand each other. Myrtle in- sists on your giving her a convincing proof of energy — pluck — determination — and all that sort of thing! You're not limited as to the direction they may take? Arth. Not at all! Sir F. Good — and your uncle refuses his consent to your marriage unless he sees some urgent necessity for it? Arth. Exactly! Sir F. Then the same medicine will do for both ! Old Cosey has a great regard for propriety and morality, and all that sort of thing — hasn't he? 132 TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. Arth. Intense! Sir F. Then we'll give him such a shock on that score, he'll think that his opposition to your wishes has driven you frantic with despair ! Arth. But Myrtle? Sir F. Has only to imagine there's a chance of your turning out a "naughty, good-for-nothing reprobate," and she'll be only too glad to reclaim her lost sheep at once! Arth. What then? Sir F. Oh, then we must borrow a wrinkle from the French ! As your uncle won't hear of your taking a wife of your own, take somebody else's! — no matter whose. Take mine; she's the handiest ! Arth. Don't be absurd ! Sir F. I'm perfectly serious! All your uncle wants is to snooze away his existence. We must wake the old boy up ! ! Arth. How? Sir F. By an elopement! ! A -pretended one, of course, which you shall propose to my wife, and Tie shall overhear! Arth. /propose an elopement to Lady Fritterly? She'll be indignant! Sir F. How do you know that? She may feel flattered ! At any rate I'll take all the responsibility ! — you may be as fascinat- ing as you choose ! Ha ! ha ! Arth. But, man alive, I'm not in the habit of running away with other people's wives! I shouldn't know how to begin. Something in this style? — "Please, ma'am, will you run away with me?" Sir F. Not half tender enough! {Clasping his hands and with exaggerated passion.) "Loveliest of women" — then down on your knee — it don't matter which — both if you like. Then ex- claim, "My bosom's torn with conflicting emotions " — " my brain is in a whirlwind of agony and despair " — tearing your hair out by handfuls all the time. Don't forget t7iat/ TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. 133 Arth. Stop! Don't be in such a confounded hurry! Let me see! "Loveliest of women," one! (counting on his fingers) — "conflicting emotions," two! — "agony," three! — "despair," four! Can't you make it five — one for each finger? Sir F. Five — the elopement! — there you nuist come out a lit- tle stronger — {declaiming in exaggerated tone) — "Let us fly, loved one! — horses are in readiness to bear us to the nearest station, where the flashing express shall whirl us to— to — " anywhere you like — Madagascar — Seringapatam— Pegwell Bay — no mat- ter! Arth. Oh! that's the style, is it? By Jove, I've half a mind to chance it! But when is this precious scheme of yours to come off? Sir F. At once ! As soon as I can secure the presence of my wife, and old Cosey as a listener ! — he always takes a nap on this couch when the coast is c\eiix\— {turns the couch round with hack to the audience). There! — now, you take a stroll in the grounds— I'll hide behind the window-curtains and give you the signal to come in. Be off! (jmshing him up stage). Arth. Wait a minute — {counting on his fingers) — "Loveliest of women," "conflicting emotions," " agony," "paggony " — no, not "paggony," "despair." Let me see, what's the little finger? Sir F. The elopement ! Arth, All right! [^Exit at c. totcards r., counting his fingers. Sir F. He's gone at last ! I ought to have been born in an at- mosphere of diplomacy to develop my talent for intrigue ! Ha, ha, ha! how this "little game " of mine will astonish them! But they all want waking up in this house! Cosey's an old hedge- hog, all prickles and prejudices! Arthur's— never mind what! Myrtle's a crab-apple — pleasant to look at, but occasionally rath- er tart to the taste! {here Lady Fritterly enters at door l., un- perceived by Sir Felix). As for my wife {hei'e Lady F. stops and listens), she's a charming woman; but she has one fault, for which 134 TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. I'd gladly exchange a good many of her virtues — she's so dread- fully proper! Shall I take her into my confidence? No I she hates jokes— especially mine. How she will stare when Arthur opens his batteries f— ha — lia!— run away with my wife! — the no- tion's too absurd. Lady F, (aside). Indeed! So, so, husband of mine! — (comes down and taps Sir Felix on the shoulder). Felix ! Sir F. (turning). Grace! (Aside.) I wonder if she overheard ! Lady F. You seem merry! — laughing at your own jokes? Quite right you should, for nobody else does ! Sir F, Thank you! (Aside.) All right! she didn't hear any- thing. Perhaps I'd better prepare her, just a little bit, or she might petrify poor Arthur with one of her tragedy looks before he opens his mouth, and then he'd take to his heels to a certain- ty! (Aloud.) By-the-bye, my dear Grace, have you noticed any- thing peculiar in young Vallance's behavior lately? Lady F. No ; he seems as apathetic as ever ; he may, perhaps, have shown a little more attention to me than usual (with inten- tion). Sir F. (aside). The deuce he has! I wonder what she'll say presentlj^ when he comes out with his " agony" and "despair?" (Aloud.) I don't mean his behavior to you — but to IMj^rtle! He's not half so spooney — I mean attentive — as he used to be, and I fear there's a reason for it! (ioit?i significance). Lady F. Indeed! Sir F. Yes! he may be smitten with somebody else! At his age the affections are fickle, volatile — skipping like a flea — Lady F. Felix! Sir F. I mean sipping like a hee from flower to flower ! Myr- tle is young — very young; but even youth like hers may become insipid! The love of every precocious boy of fifteen is a woman of thirty ! I began at twelve ! Lady F, A woman of thirty — my age ! Understand, sir, that no woman cares to be reminded of her age when she is turned TAKEN FKOM THE FRENCH. 135 thirty, any more than that she wears false hair! Your remark, therefore, is scarcely polite ; but with your wife it appears you consider no such politeness necessary ! Sir F. Politeness! My dear Grace, what is politeness, after all? — merely the gloss of society! I suppose you'll admit that the shiny stuff they put on the top of the buns doesn't make them taste any the sweeter? Lady F. Spare me your absurd similes, and don't mistake flip- pancy for wit ! Sir F. {aside). That's a dig in the ribs for me! {Aloud.) But we are wandering from our subject! Do you think Myrtle loves Vallance at all? Lady F. I fancy she likes him well enough 1 Sir F. " Well enough " won't do! She must like him a great deal better — as I believe she would if we could only make her just a little bit jealous! Lady F. Perhaps so— but how? My lady's-maid is no beauty! The house- maid's no chicken! The cook's too fat! And there's no one else! Sir F. No, exactly! {Here Lady Fritterly turns and goes up stage.') Are you going out this morning? Lady F. Yes, unless you wish for the pleasure of my society here ! Sir F. Well, it would be a novelty ! Lady F. And you promise to spare me the infliction of those melancholy exhibitions which you call jokes? Sir F. I'll be as dull as an undertaker! Suppose you put a few stitches into that smoking-cap of mine, which has been your sole occupation in needle-work for the last two years and a half! Lady F. Be it so! It's in my room — I'll fetch it! {Aside as she goes up stage.) So — so— he's evidently got some ' ' little game " on hand — which it will be my business to find out! {Turning to Sir F.) Ta! ta! lOoes out at door l. h. Sir F. Poor, unsuspecting innocent, it's too bad to take ad- 136 TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. vantage of her simplicity! All! here comes old Cosey for his forty winks— better and better — but he mustn't see me! {Hides hehitid iDindow-curtain.) Enter Colonel at r. ; looks round. Col. Nobody here! got it all to myself! That's just what I like! I was afraid of meeting Fritterly ! He's a pleasant fellow enough in his way, but I prefer being out of his way ! To be within the sound of his voice is like living over a printing-office — one continual clatter! Now, then, for a little solitary rumina- tion! — there's nothing equals it. Look at a cow — how she en- joys it! and isn't she the most peaceful of all animals? Who ever heard of a cow in a passion? See the touching resignation with which she allows herself to be milked ! I wish Arthur had more of that docile animal in his composition! he wouldn't talk of doing something desperate! Now, then, for a delicious nap! ( Ties Ms handkerchief over his head and lies down on couch, and no longer in sight of audience.') Sir F. {peeping from behind curtain). Thank you, colonel, for your flattering opinion of me; but I'll be even with you! I won- der if he's asleep? {advancing on tiptoe to couch). Yes, sound as a top! Now, then, to call in Arthur! Stop a bit! let me first perform the part of the benevolent robin in the ' ' Babes in the Wood," and cover this " Sleeping Beauty " up ! {Carefully spread- ing several antimacassars over Cosey.) There! now for Arthur! {Runs to window and waves his hand.) All right; he sees me! Enter Vallance at c. Arth. Well, you still stick to your plan? Sir F. Like a horse-leech. My wife will be here directly ! Arth. But Uncle Cosey? Sir F. Comfortably tucked in there {pointing to couch), to be roused from the land of dreams when the proper time arrives with this implement (taking a long feather brush). Sure you've TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. 137 got your part in this little domestic drama by heart? Re- hearse ! Arth. "Loveliest of women," "emotions," "agony," "Se- ringapatam," "despair," "PegwellBay" — Sir F. Keep on going over it, like the multiplication- table ; but hang it, man, don't look as lively as if you were waiting in a dentist's back parlor! (Suddenly.) Here comes my wife! {?mr- riedly Tdding behind curtains). Enter Lady Fritterlt at l. h., carrying a smoking-cap. Lady F. {seeing Vallance). Mr. Vallance? Arth. Lady Fritterly ! (bowing). Lady F. (aside). The ball is about to open! (Aloud.) Won't you be seated? (seating herself at l., Arthur moving a chair to some distance from Lady F. , and seating himself). A lovely morning, is it not? (beginning toicork at the smoking-cap). Arth. Delicious! Lady F. Quite cool and pleasant ! Arth. (aside). I feel quite hot and '^^?^pleasant ! Lady F. By-the-bye, do you know where my husband is? Arth. (fidgeting on his chair). Not exactly ; but I believe he's somewhere or other, or if not there, somewhere else. Sir F. {who has peeped out, listening). Idiot! (hiding again). Lady F. (observing the movement of the curtain. Aside). He's there! traitor! (Aloud.) I'm sure I ought to feel deeply grate- ful to him for leaving so agreeable a substitute. Sir F. (listening). That ought to encourage him ! Arth. {aside). It's time I began, if I'm going to begin at all ! (Suddenly, and clasping his hands.) Oh, Lady Fritterly, pardon my agitation ; but agitated as I am with the agitations that agi- tate me — the agony, the despair — {Aside.) I shall stick fast presently ; I know I shall ! Sir F. {listening). That's better. Arth. But say — say you forgive me ! 138 TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. Lady F. Forgive you! for what? (insinuatingly, and moving her chair nearer to Arthur, who draws his hack). Arth. For the confession which, alas! {here a very deep sigh) I am about to make. Lady F. Continue, I beg! Arth. Oh, madam, dear madam, dearest madam, if you only knew all ! Lady F. Hall? A gentleman of your acquaintance? Arth. I didn't say Hall, madam ! Let me observe, Lady Frit- terly, that this is no subject for levity. Lady F. No one would imagine it was, from your counte- nance, Mr. Vallance. Its solemnity is positively, painfully lu- dicrous ! Sir F. {listening). Why the deuce don't he open his batteries? Arth. {seeing Sir Felix, icho is making energetic signs to him to proceed loith his love-making. Aside). Well, since he will insist upon it, here goes! {Aloud, and in an ultra impassioned tone.) Loveliest of women!— pardon the apparent insanity of the re- mark — I love you ! adore you ! in fact, I rather like you ! Be- hold me at your feet ! {flopping down on one knee. Here Sir F. reaches over and tickles Cosey with the feather brush, who starts up and shows his head above the hack of couch; then, seeing Tie is not alone, withdraws his liead again out of sight). Lady F. {with pretended emotion). Love me, Mr. Vallance? {Aside.) So this is the "little game," is it? {Aloud.) Well, is that all? Arth. All? {Aside). And pretty well too, I think; what the deuce would she have? {Aloud, and very enthusiastically.) No, madam, it is not all! I've only just begun! Oh, could you but know the conflicting emotions, the agony, the despair — {counting on his fingers. Aside.) I forgot the rest! {Aloud.) Say, say that you love me in return ! {seizing her hand). Lady F. {with pretended emotion). Oh, Mr. Vallance, you're too vehement; release my hand! TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. 139 Arth. (aside). Release her liand ! Come, I like that ! I wish she'd let go of mine {trying to disengage his hand, then catching another glimpse of Sir F., loho by signs encourages him to jJroceed. Aloud). Release this hand? Not till I've finished! Loved one! let us fly ; horses are waiting — flashing express — distant clime — Seringapatam — Madagascar — the Sandwich Islands — anywhere. Lady F. (toitJi pretended emotion and an affecting faintness). A sudden faintness (leaning against Vallance) ; oh, support me ! Sir F. (looking out). Holloa ! holloa ! Lady F. (looking up in Arthur's/<«c6, and with mock sentimen- tality). Oh! Arthur, Arthur! Sir F. (behind). Damn it, she calls him Arthur ! Arth. (aside). I've been getting on too fast! Lady F. {pathetically to Vallance). Spare my blushes ; I guess all you would say. Arth. (aside). Do you? That's lucky, for Fm regularly stumped. Lady F. (suddenly grasping Vallance by the wrist and drag- ging him forward, almost upsetting him). Listen ! my husband is not unkind, though he might be kinder; he is not ill-looking, indeed, he might be uglier; but he has one terrible defect. (Sir F. here leans forward and listens.) He really flatters himself that he possesses a fund of wit; that he is literally running over with fun; whereas the poor man really doesn't possess a single particle of either. It's very sad, isn't it? Arth. Melancholy in the extreme. Lady F. And I'm sure, as for humor — Arth. He's just about as much in him as an old cab horse! (Felix shakes his fist at Vallance.) Lady F. But alas ! for every one of his dismal jokes that you hear / am doomed to listen to a hundred ! Is it to be wondered at, then, that I should pant, crave for a change? — (gradually get- ting more excited)— tha.t I should find the temptation you oflier me too great to resist? 140 TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. Arth. (aghast). Eh! what? You don't mean to say you con- sent? Lady F. Of course I do! {icith enthusiasm). What woman could resist the Sandwich Islands, and you for a companion ! In five minutes expect me here on this spot. Give me but time to pack up my jewels, a dozen or two dresses, and a sprinkling of hats, and I'll be with you, my Arthur! {Ooing — stops.) You won't mind my bringing my favorite little pug-dog, of course you won't — {going — stops again) — and a couple of kittens — a thousand thanks — and you won't object to putting the parrot cage under your arm? I thought not. [^Runs hastily out at l, h. {During the above scene Cosey occasionally shows his head above the back of the couch and withdraws it again.) Arth. A parrot cage under my arm all the way to the Sand- wich Islands! {Shouting after Lady F.) Stop! madam, Lady Fritterly, don't hurry yourself; take your own time — one hour, two hours, six weeks, any time you like, Wheugh! here's a pretty state of affairs ; catch me running off with another man's couple of kittens — I mean wives — no, icife again ! {thrusting both hands into his trousers-pockets and walking violently to and fro, then flings himself into a chair at l. Sir Felix hurries down and drops into a chair at r. Colonel rolls off the end of couch envel- oped in antimacassars, and seats himself in chair at c. All pull out their white pocket -handkerchiefs, and indulge in extravagant business, etc.). Arth, {not seeing them). Poor Sir Felix! — a pretty kettle of fish he's made of it! I've been too fascinating! Sir F. {coming hurriedly down). Don't talk nonsense, sir ! But of course this is all a joke! Why don't you say it's all a joke? Arth. It's anything but a joke for me!— 211 the way to the Sandwich Isles with a parrot cage under my arm !— how would you like it? TAKEN FKOM THE FRENCH. 141 Sir F. Pshaw! you carried the thing too far, sir! — a devilish deal too far! Arth. Come, I like that! I only did what you told me! — except that I didn't tear my hair out by handf uls ! Col. {counting his pulse). A hundred and* twenty at the very least! {tossing a couple of pills into his mouth — then to Vallance). Now, sir, what do you mean by making love to Lady Fritterly, and proposing an elopement to her? It's scandalous, sir! Arth. Not the slightest doubt about it, uncle! but I only did it to oblige Sir Felix! Col. Oblige Sir Felix by running off with his wife? Arth. Yes ! in order to show you what a desperate dog I had become, so that you might put me out of the way of temptation by consenting to my marriage with Myrtle! But now — {with a deep sigh) — that's all knocked on the head! SirF. How so? Arth. Because, my dear fellow, your wife having accepted, I am bound, as a man of honor, to run away with her! CoL. {turning to Sir F.). Of course, as a man of honor, we're bound to run away with her ! Arth. A lady— (^e?'6 Colonel turns to him) — for whom I en- tertain the highest respect ! Col. {turning to Sir F.). A lady for whom we entertain the highest respect! Arth. ^Mt— (here Colonel turns again to him)— tor whom I don't care two pins! CoL. {turning to Sir F.). But for whom we don't care two pins! Sir F. {fiercely to Colonel). You needn't be insulting by asso- ciating Lady Fritterly with that paltry amount of haberdashery ! CoL. {feeling his pulse). I shall be in a raging fever presently! (two more pills). What's to be done? (Tc* Vallance.) Recollect you've got to ascertain when the next train starts for the Sand- wich Islands 1 142 TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. Arth. Hang it, Sir Felix! can't you suggest something? I look-to you, with your extravagant devices, to extricate me ! Col. {to Sir F.). Yes, sir! We insist on your extricating us from your extravagant devices ! Sir F. Well, I confess I've made a slight mistake this time, but all isn't lost. Lady Fritterly will be here directly, when I flatter myself she'll hear something to her advantage — {looking off at c.) Here comes Myrtle! — couldn't be better! Now. then, hide yourselves — both of you ! Arth. Certainly not 1 Col. Certainly not ! Arth. Another of your infernal schemes ! If this fails, I real- ly shall do something desperate! {During this Sir Felix has been edging him up towards curtains, and at last pushes him he- hind them at r. ) Col. {in a helpless tone). My system won't survive this sort of thing! I'm sure it won't. Sir F. {hurrying down). Now, colonel, on to your couch be- fore Myrtle sees you ! {edging him up toicards couch). Col. {resisting). But I don't want to go to sleep! I'm thor- oughly wide-awake. Sir F. Nonsense ! {forces Colonel on couch, and heaping pil- lows over him). CoL. {showing Ms head). Tuck me up if you like, but, confound it, don't smother me! {keeps rising, Sir Felix pushing him down again at each attempt). Arth. (putting his head out from curtain). Sir Felix ! CoL. {showing his head above couch). Sir Felix ! (Sir F. seizes the nearest pillow and throws it at Colonel's head). Sir F. Silence ! both of you ! Enter Myrtle at door l. h. Myrt. {laughing aside as she enters). Ha! ha! poor Sir Felix! Grace has told me all, and I am to humor the joke, while she watches the result from the conservatory ! TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. 143 {Buring the folloioing, until Lady F.'s entrance, the Colonel shoios Ms head occasionally above the back of the couch, hut tcithdraws it again at a sign from Sir Felix.) Sir F. {aside). Now for it — {coming doion — takes Myrtle's hand, and in an exaggerated tone of grief). Myrtle ! Myrtle ! in me you behold a broken-hearted husband ! Myrt. {aside). Very well acted, indeed ! {Aloud, and in a jyretended tone of commiseration). Broken-hearted? Sir F. When I say " broken-hearted," I don't wish you to in- fer that the centre of my organic functions is snapped in half like a stick of firewood — far from it. Myrtle. But I'm broken- hearted for all that ! Myrt. Absurd! while you liuve Grace and me to console you! Sir F. Grace no longer. She has deserted me, and for young Vallance! {falling into chair and burying his face in his hands). Here Lady F. appears at c, listening. Sir F. {peeping out at the corner of his handkerchief, and seeing her. Aside). She's there! {Aloud.) Yes, Myrtle, I'm a wretched, abandoned man! Myrt. You can't be serious? Sir F. It's too true ! Myrt. What — what do you intend doing? Sir F. I did think of shooting the young man !— but it'll be a far greater punishment to let him live ! Think what the poor, unhappy youth will have to suffer from Grace's ' ' little bits of temper!" poor devil! I know what /had to go through. (Lady F. shakes her hand at Sir F. ) Myrt. But surely you will try and prevent Grace's depart- ure? Sir F. {indifferently). I think not!— better as it is. I'm getting 10 144 TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. used to tlie idea! I confess it was I who advise^ Vallance to make just a certain little amount of love to my wife in order to excite your jealousy and show you what energy the young man was callable of ; but I must confess I was not at all prepared for the perfect torrent of impassioned eloquence with which he poured forth his unhallowed flame! (^Here Vallance shakes both his fists at SirF.) Sir F. Besides, Myrtle, dear Myrtle, as you very sensibly ob- served just now, shall I not have you to console me? {with ati exaggerated tender look). Myrt. {alarmed). Me? Sir F. Why not? Your lover doesn't care a pin's point about you, or he wouldn't have agreed to my plan. My wife has about the same amount of affection for me, or she'd have withered him up with her scorn at the first go-off. This sort of thing! {putting on a haughty and scornful look). Myrt. Well, what then? Sir F. Can you ask? Oh, my Myrtle! my beloved Myrtle — behold me at your feet! (falling on both his knees and seiz- ing her hand. Aside.) If Grace stands this, I'm a New Zea- lander ! Myrt. Monster! {flinging ^in¥TSh\K from her, who falls on his face. Lady Fritterly and Vallance hurry down). Lady F. So, Sir Felix Fritterly! Arth. So, Sir Felix Fritterly! Sir F. {getting up quietly and dusting his knees loith his pocket- handkerchief. Then suddenly bursting out into a loud laugh). Ha, ha, ha ! Surely, my dear Grace, you didn't really think 1 was in earnest? Lady F, {smiling). As much in earnest, probably, as you thought me. (Sir Felix takes her hand and kisses it.) Arth. {joyously to Lady F.). Then you don't love me after all? You won't insist on my accompanying you to the Sand- wich Islands? TAIvEN FROM THE FRENCH. 145 Lady F. (draicingJierselfttp). Mr. Vallauce! (71? Sir Felix.) Well, I confess you have the best of the game. Sir F. And the last laugh! Arth. Myrtle, have I fulfilled your conditions ? have I shown some little amount of energy? Myrt. Yes, with a vengeance! Arth. And may I hope — Sir F. Have him now, Myrtle, while you can get him! Lady F. Keep her to her promise, Mr. Vallance ! Arth. Gladly! But it all depends on my uncle how soon! Sir F. Then he shall decide at once ! Turn out, old tortoise ! (Wheels conch round to face the audience, and pulling off the anti- macassars, etc.) Hang me if he isn't fast asleep! Wake up! {tickling Colonel icith the feather brush). CoL. All right ! Bring me my shaving- water ! {Sitting up, and looking about him.) Holloa! Arth. Have you forgotten all about the elopement, uncle? Col. Elopement ! Why, you ought to have been half way to the Sandwich Islands by this time ! Arth. Ha! ha! We've arranged that little matter differently. Col. {crustily). Then what the deuce did you wake me up for? Sir F. To let you go off to sleep again in a more comfortable frame of mind. Lady F. Come, colonel! Arthur's desperately in love with Myrtle. Sir F. And Myrtle's over head and ears in love with — Myrt. (interrupting him). Felix! Sir F. With herself! They only wait your benediction. CoL. Bother the benediction! I'll settle a thousand a year on them! Sir F. {shaking his hand). The most sensible thing you've said for a long time ; and now you may go to sleep again as soon ^s you like. 146 TAKEN FROM THE FHENCH. Col. Thank you! {Feelmg Ms pulse.) Wmety] That's better 1 Sir F. But a word at parting here! (To audience.) How ac- count for our eccentric behavior? Shall we boldly forestall the critics and say at once — Myrt. Quite foreign in sentiment— Arth. Obviously borrowed from our lively neighbors — CoL. {senteiitiously). Possessing all their levity with regard to those domestic ties — Lady F. {putting her hand over his mouth). In short — Taken from the French ! CURTAIN FALLS. DECLINED— WITH THANEIS. Original J^atcc, m Sm 2tct. DRAMATIS PERSONS Mr. Gritty. Captain Taunton. Edward Mallingford. Mr. Samuel Skrufp Spronks's Boy Florence Halliday, ) (Gritty's Hetty Halliday. ) nieces.) Sally, a servant. Scene. — Exterior of a villa on the banks of the Thames at Ted- dington — house partly seen at l. h. — a low green railing round it, in c. of which is a small garden gate — rustic seats, floicer-beds, etc., scattered about stage — garden wall at r. h. — door in c. — large portable bell hanging over it — bell heard and seen to ring — noise of voices in dispute heard outside. Skruff {without). Don't tell me! I saw you do it! You needn't apologize! What do you say — " You ain't a-going to?" Very well ! {another violent ring at bell). .Enter Sally /wm house and crossing to r. Sally. Who can it be ringing in that style, I wonder? {opens door in c. of wall). Skruff enters hurriedly, holding his handkerchief to his face ; lie wears a white hat, red scarf, white waistcoat, cutaway coat, and very gay trousers ; carries an umbrella. Skruff {walking up and down). The young vagabond delib- 148 DECLINED— WITH THANKS. erately put his toe on a loose stone and squirted half a pint of muddy water into my eye ' I saw him do it. He must be an old hand at it too, or he wouldn't have taken such a good aim ; but, luckily, I spied his name on his basket, and if I don't spoil his trade for potatoes in this establishment my name's not Skruff 1 {Takes out a note-book and writes in it '■ Spronks") There I and now, Spronks, my boy, look out for squalls ! Some people may like being insulted with impunitj^ — I don't Sally {who has been following Skruef to and fro the stage, at last stops Mm by the coat-tail). Now, then! what's your business^ young man? Skruff. "Young man!" Sally If you've come for the water-rate — or the gas — or the sewers — you must call again! Skruff. Water-rate! Gasi Are you aware, young woman, that you're addressing a gentleman? Sally. You don't mean it? Well, that's about the last thing I should have thought of! It only shows one mustn't always judge by appearances. Skruff (with importance). I happen to be a friend of your master's. Sally. Well, I am surprised— 'cause master's so very particu- lar — then how came you to ring the servants' bell ? Skruff {aside). I never shall get out of that habit — been used to it so long, I suppose. {Aloud.) Is Mr. Gritty down? Sally. Can't say, I'm sure, sir— but I know he ain't up. Skruff. Oh! at what time does he usually get up? Sally Well, sir, that depends ; but, as a rule, I've observed he usually gets up about hi-s usual time. Skruff. Does he indeed? (J.sic?^.) There's a flippancy about this young woman I don't like. {Aloud.) Perhaps the young la- dies, Mr Gritty 's nieces, are down? Sally. Can't say positively, sir — but I know they ain't up. Skruff {aside). I shall not interrogate this domestic any fur- DECLINED — WITH THANKS. 149 ther. (Aloud.) Will you inform Mr, Gritty, with my compli- ments, that I have called to see him? Sally. Cei'tainly, sir — but — Skruff (impressively). I repeat, Will you inform Mr, Gritty that I have called? Do you think you can manage that? Sally. Well, sir, don't you think it would be as well just to mention the name? Do you think you can manage that? Shall I take your card, sir? Skruff. Yes\ (taking out card-case). No! (Aside.) CaYds cost. a shilling a hundred. Why should I waste one on people I've hardly ever seen. (Aloud. ) You can say — * ' >tr. Samuel Skruff. " Do you think you can remember that? Sally. "Skruff !" Not likely to forget it, sir — such an aris- tocratic name. (^Bringing forward a three-legged rustic seat.) Like to sit down, sir? GniTTY (Jieard fj'07n Jiouse at jj.). Sally! My shaving water ! — hot! all hot! Sally. Coming, sir ! [Runs into Twuse l. Skruff. Her name's Sally, is it? (toriting in note-hook). Down goes Sally along-side of Spronks. (Seats himself and almost tum- bles over.) What the deuce does old Gritty mean by having such rickety things as this about the premises? — to do a good turn to the wooden-leg makers, I suppose ! (Sitting down very cautious- ly.) Now let me see what I've comedown here for (consults Tiote- book). Here we have it ! (Beads.) "Florence Halliday," "Hetty Halliday " — old Gritty's two nieces. The fact is, dad wants to see me settled; that is, if I can make a good thing out of it! Well, he's just heard on the extreme quiet that one of the young ladies is very soon coming in for £10,000! — unluckily he doesn't know which of the two — so, on the strength of a former busi- ness acquaintance with old Gritty, he has trotted me down here to ferret the secret out, and if I get hold of the right scent I am to go the entire animal at once !— not likely I should waste any time about courtship and all that sort of thing. Not I! Only 150. DECLINED— AVITH THANKS. let me worm out which of the two has got the tin, and I'll mar- ry her to-morrow morning! — I can't say fairer than that! {Look- ing about Mm.) Rather a niceish sort of place this! must have cost something! I hope old Gritty can afford it. Father says he was always fond of squandering his money and doing good. Doing good! — what is it, after all? — getting up a vainglorious reputation at the expense of people who stick to their money ! Gritty (without, at l.). In the garden, is he? All right! I'll find him! E)ite7' Gritty /?'ow villa l. h. Gritty, Where is he? (7ie is in Jiis morning-gown, and loears a wide-brimmed straw hat— sees Skruff). Ah ! my dear Samuel — {seizing and shaking Skruff's hand molently)—({e\\g\\iedi to see you, Samuel — for I suppose you are Samuel — eh, Samuel? And how's your father, Samuel? Skruff. Quite well, thank you, Mr. Gritty. Gritty. And your mother, too, Samuel? Skruff. Quite well, thank you, Mr. Gritty. Gritty. And your sisters — and your uncles — and your aunts —and all the rest of 'em— eh, Samuel? Skruff. Quite well, thank you, Mr. Gritty. Gritty. Bless me, what a time it is since I've seen any of you — and to think that your father and I were partners when you were a baby— and a precious ugly little brat you were! I don't see much alteration in you now, Samuel — I mean, not for the better. Yes, " Gritty & Skruff," that was the name of the firm — "tailors" — ' Conduit Street" — and a capital business it was, too — and is so still, I hope. Skruff. Yes; better than ever. Father's made heaps more money since you retired ! Trade's altered completely ! Gritty. Has it? When I was in it we gave a first-rate arti- cle, paid good wages, and were satisfied with a fair profit, Skruff. We manage matters better than that n^w ! Gritty. How so? DECLINED — WITH THANKS. 151 Skruff. By adding the profit on to both ends. Putting down the wages and putting up the prices. Gritty. Well, well, every one to his taste ! Your father chose London smoke and slaving on to amass a fortune. / preferred fresh air and a moderate competence, and so we parted. You'll stay and dine with us to-day, of course? Skruff. Thank you, Mr. Gritty. (Aside). 1 put a paper of sandwiches in my pocket. Never mind, they'll keep a day or two. Gritty, And after dinner you can tell me to what I'm in- debted for the pleasure of this visit. {Suddenly). By-the-bye, you'll have a glass of wine? Of course you will! {Calling.) Sally ! bring in that decanter of port out of the sideboard 1 Skruff {aside). What extravagance ! Gritty. Ha! ha! I remember I never could get your father to drink anything stronger than raspberry vinegar drowned in water — and what a wretched looking object he was! — the color of gingerbread and as thin as a pair of nut-crackers! Do you know, Samuel, the more I look at you the more you remind me of him? Enter SalIjY from house with decanter and wine-glasses on a tray, which she places on a small table in c— Gritty sits l. and Skruff r. Exit Sally into Gritty {youring out a glass of loine ) There, Samuel — tell me what you think of that (Skruff sips the wine). Zounds, man, it won't hurt you, down with it! (Skruff takes down the loine at a gulp, almost choking himself. ) Gritty {after tossing off his glass of icine). How the deuce is it that my old friend Skruff hasn't found his way down to see me all these years? Skruff. Well, the fact is, Mr. Gritty, my father has often talked of paying you a visit — Thank you, I don't mind taking just one more glass {holding out his glass to Gritty, icho fills it — Skruff tosses it down.) Let me see — I was saying — 152 DECLINED— WITH THANKS, Gritty. That your father has often talked of paying me a visit. Skruff. Exactly — but the fact is — Well, since you insist upon it, I don't mind just half a glass more {holding out his glass — Gritty ^^fe it half full.) Gritty. I think you said half a glass? Skruff. Did I? — far be it from me to contradict you, but — (Gritty laughs and fills up Skruff's glass, which Skruff again tosses off. ) Gritty. Now you haven't told me why my old friend hasn't been down to see me all these years. Skruff. Well, the fact is, it's such an awful expense to get down here ! Gritty. What! from Putney to Teddington— eighteenpence second-class return? Surely that wouldn't have ruined him! Skruff {aside). If ever old Gritty becomes my uncle-in-law, I shall have to put a stop to all these extravagant notions of his. Gritty. Well, it seems you didn't grudge the expense. Skruff. Not a bit of it, because I didn't go to it ! I got a lift in our butcher's cart to Richmond — then on to Twickenham with a benevolent baker, and walked the rest. Gritty {aside). A careful young man this! but I'm afraid my old friend has made a trifling mistake in his calculations. He used to say it was time enough to make a gentleman when you'd made your money — but in my opinion, a man can't begin a bit too soon! {Aloud.) Now, Sammy, come and take a stroll round the grounds, and I'll introduce you to my nieces, a couple of nice girls, Sammy! I hope you're a lady's man {poking him in the ribs), ha ! ha ! Skruff. Well, as a rtile, the sex is rather partial to me! — ha! ha! {giving Gritty a poke in the ribs). Gritty. Is it? Well, there's no accounting for taste! Skruff. You see, father's well off— and the pickings '11 be DECLmED— WITH THANKS, 153 uncommon good when the old boy pops off !— a great attraction to the female mind, Mr. Gritty! Gritty. I dare say ; but luckily, my girls will not have to look to money as the main thing! {Looking round, and then in a confidential wJiisper to Skruff.) Ten thousand pounds, left by a rich old aunt ! which may probably fall to — Skruff {very eagerly). Yes ! to — to — Gritty {in a ichisper). Florence ! Skruff {aside). Oh! thaffe the one, is it? (^Writing aside in note-hook.) Then down she goes, " Sally! Spronks! Florence!" Gritty {continuing). Unless, indeed — Skruff {quickly). Unless, indeed, what? Gritty. Hetty should turn out to be the lucky one! Skruff {aside). Who's to make head or tail out of this? {Aloud.) Then you don't exactly know which of the two it is? Gritty. No, but I shall, as soon as Hetty comes of age, by which time, by-the-bye, both the girls must, according to the terms of the will, be married. Skruff. Oh! (Aside.) It strikes me this is a dodge to get the two girls off with one legacy! {Aloud.) And when does Miss Hetty come of age? Gritty. In ten days. Skruff. Ten days? Eather a short time to provide two hus- bands in? Gritty. Not at all ! They're already provided !— both of 'em! Skruff. Already provided! (Aside.) And this is what I get for coming down here and wasting my income in travelling expenses! but I'll make a fight of it yet! If they think they're going to walk over the course they'll find themselves mis- taken! (Aloud.) And what sort of articles are these young cliaps, eh ? You can't be too particular in selecting the pattern, Mr. Gritty. Gritty. Oh, they're all right! — nice gentlemanly young fel- lows! 154 DECLINED— WITH THANKS. Skruff. Take care, Mr. Gritty ! — I know pretty well what the general run of "gentlemanly young fellows" is! — they're un- common fond of running long tailors' bills! Gritty. Well, you shall judge for yourself — they both dine here to-day ! Skruff. To-day? {Aside.) Then I haven't much time to lose if I'm to cut 'em out! [Aloud.) You haven't told me their names. Gritty. Oh! one is a military man, Captain Taunton of the Buffs— the other, Edward Mallingford, of the War Office! Skruff {aside). Don't remember either of their names— but they're sure to be in debt somewhere or other — if I only had time to find out lohere! {Aloud.) And pray, which is which des tined for, Mr. Gritty? {Aside.) It's important for me to know that ! {taking out his pocket-hook on the sly). Gritty. Oh, there's no secret about it — Florence is engaged to — {Seeing Florence, who enters from house.) Oh! here she comes! And Hetty is going to marry — and here she comes {see- ing Hetty, icho folloics Florence froin house). Gritty. Come here, my dears! (Florence and Hetty corne doicn). The son of my old partner, Mr. Samuel Skruff. {Intro- ducing.) Mr. Samuel Skruff — my nieces— Miss Florence Halli- day, Miss Hetty Halliday. (Florence and Hetty courtesy.) Skruff {howing). Firm of Skruff & Son, Miss Florence ! first- rate business, Miss Hetty! {To Florence.) Our 13«. trousers is a fortune in itself I {To Hetty.) And as to our everlasting wear fabric, which we advertise so extensively, it is simply all plun- der! {following Hetty and addressing her apart with much ges- ticulation, while Florence comes doicn to Gritty). Flor. Oh ! uncle, dear ! why do you ask your dreadful tai- loring acquaintances here? Do try and get rid of this vulgar little man before Captain Taunton comes, or he'll think he's a relation! [Retii^es up. Skruff {aside). I'm getting on first-rate {joining Florence, wJiile Hetty comes down). DECLINED — WITH THANKS. 155 Hetty {to Gritty). If this odious creature Skruff stays, you really must let him have his dinner in the kitchen. I dare say he's used to it, Edward would be perfectly horrified at his vul- garity. Gritty. Can't do that, my dear, but I'll relieve you of his presence as much as I can ! {To Skruff.) Now, Samuel, as you've made the acquaintance of the ladies, suppose we take a turn round the garden! (taking Skruff's an?^), Flor. By all means, Mr. Skruff; there's such a beautiful view of the river from the lawn, Mr. Skruff! Hetty. And we've such a nice boat, Mr. Skruff ! Flor. You can paddle yourself about in it tor hours, Mr. Skruff! Hetty. Yes, the longer the better, Mr. Skruff! Gritty. Come along, Sammy ! (ticisting Skruff round — Skruff resisting). Hetty. Good-bye, Mr. Skruff ! Flor. Ta, ta, Mr. Skruff! (Gritty drags Skruff off, strug- gling at R.) Flor. Well, Hetty? Hetty. Well, Florence? Flor. Were you ever introduced to such an objectionable in- dividual before? Hetty. Never! and the creature evidently shows symptoms of falling in love. Flor. With me? Hetty. With you? Don't flatter yourself! with ^?ie .' He was on the point of saying something very tender to me when you jealously monopolized his attention! Flor. Nonsense! I'm sure he was about to declare his pas- sion for me when you cruelly dragged him away ! Hetty. Then it's quite clear he means to marry one of us! If he honors me with the preference, I must refer him to Mailing- ford, ha! ha! 156 DECLINED— WITH THANKS, Flor. And if he pops to me, he'll have to settle the matter with Captain Taunton, ha! ha! ha! Here Captain Taunton's head appears above the icall at n. Taunt. Good-morning, ladies! Will you open the door or shall I storm the fortress? (Hetty runs and ope7is door r. ; Taunton enters). Now, ladies, may I ask the cause of all this merriment, and whether there is any objection to my sharing in the joke? Flor. None at all, Harry ; it simply means that Hetty is likely to become "Mrs. Samuel Skruff " vice "Edward Mailing ford," cashiered. Hetty. Don't be quite so positive, because it isn't quite de- cided yet whether it will not be " Samuel Skruff" vice "Henry Taunton. " He's a tailor, and a capital hand at cutting out. Taunt. A very bad joke that (they all laugh); but of course you can't be serious? Hetty. That will entirely depend, most gallant captain, on whether you are prepared to resign your pretensions! Your rival is a regular fire-eater, I can assure you. Taunt. And consequently one who would stand any amount of — kicking, eh? Flor. Ha! ha! But don't you think it's high time we dropped the tailor? Taunt. Certainly! Hetty. Carried nem, con. — "of Samuel Skruff we've had enough." Flor. But tell me, Harry, have you arranged for the payment of the thousand pounds? Taunt. Yes ! and upon the most favorable terms. Flor. Then, not a single word to uncle on the subject until we give you permission. Remember that ! Hetty. Well, I must run away. You'll have some little com- passion on poor Mr. Skruff, won't you, Florence? ha! ha! ha! {Exit laughing into house l. h. DECLINED— WITH THANKS. 157 Taunt. Now, perhaps you'll enlighten me! Who the deuce is Skruff? Explain this Skruff. Flor. All I know of the interesting object of your inquiry is that he is the son of an old friend of my uncle's; that the ob- ject of his visit here is to make a conquest, on the shortest pos- sible notice, either of Hetty or your humble servant ! Taunt, {savagely). Let Skruff beware how he poaches on my manor ! Gritty {heard witlwut). Now then, Florry, Hetty, where the deuce are you? Flor. There's uncle calling; come along, Harry, I know how anxious you must be to make Mr. Skruff 's acquaintance— ha ! ha! {Exeunt Florence and Taunton at hack r. Enter Skruff hurriedly at hack from l. Skruff. Confound old Gritty! Wouldn't let me go till he'd dragged me through several acres of lettuces and spring onions; consequently the girls have vanished and I've lost my chance. Wish to goodness I knew which of the two was to have the money {hell rings). Skruff {opening gate r. and seeing Spronks's hoy with basket on his arm). The youthful Spronks again. Come in ! Spronks {entering, then giving the hasket to Skruff). Them's the taters and them's the ignuns ! Skruff. Of course ; do you suppose I don't know a tater from an ignun? {Aside.) I'll see if I can't pump a little information out of Spronks! {Aloud.) Been long in the neighborhood, Spronks? Spronks. Ever since I've been in it, sir! Skruff. Have you indeed? — then of course you know some- thing about Mr. Gritty, eh? Spronks. I know he's a downright trump, and has always got a shilling to spare for them as wants it ! — I wants one dreadful 158 DECLINED— WITH THANKS. bad just now! {going — stops). Now don't 3^ou go and forget — them's the taters — ( going). Skruff. Stop a minute!— there's — twopence for you! {gimng money to Spronks's boy, who turns to go). Don't be in such a hurry. {Confidentially.) I dare say you hear a good deal of tat- tle from the servants, eh? {patting boy familiarly on the back) — here's another twopence for you! — now about the money that's coming to the young ladies — do you happen to have heard which of the two is likely to have it? Spronks {looking round mysteriously). Well! I don't mind tell- ing 3^ou all I know ! Skruff. That's right — here's another twopence for you ! Now then {taking out his note-book). Spronks. Well, sir— I've been making no end of inquiries about it from servants and tradespeople, and at last I've found out — Skruff {eagerly). Yes! yes! Spronks. That I know just as much about it now as before I began — ha! ha! ha! {runs up to gate — stops). Don't go and for- get which is the taters ! [Runs out. Skruff. That boy will end his days in penal servitude ! Enter Sally from house. Sally. How late that boy is with the vegetables ! Skruff. Here they are, Sally — I took 'em in! {giving Sally the basket) — them's the taters ! Sally. Thank'ee sir {going). Skruff. Stop a minute, Sally ! Do you know, I've taken quite a fancy to give you a shilling? (Sally hurries back). {Aside.) That eagerness to collar the shilling convinces me that sixpence would have been enough! {Aloud.) Been long in the Gritty family, Sally? Sally. Ever since I first came, sir— not before. Skruff. That's a remarkable fact ! — find yourself comfortable here, eh, Sally? DECLINED — WITH THANKS. 159 Sally. Nothing much to complain of, sir; twelve pounds a year, everything found — except beer — and every other Sun- day! Skruff {aside). Except beer and every other Sunday ! ( Aloud.) And your young ladies, Sally. They treat you kindly, eh? Sally. Yes, sir. We get on very comfortably, my young Missussesses and me. Skruff (aside.) She gets on very comfortably, her young Missussesses and she. Sally. They give me their old dresses and does their own hair. Skruff. Oh! they does their own hair, does they? Ah! (wit/b intention). It's a nice thing, Sally, to come in for a hatful of money, eh? Sally. Yes, sir. Ever so much nicer than sixpence? Skruff. Ah! Miss Hetty will be a fortunate girl, eh? Sally. Think so, sir? Skruff. Unless, indeed. Miss Florence should be the lucky one? Now tell me, if you were a betting man, which color would you bet on? Sally. Well, I think I should take ih.Q fair one for choice! Skruff (aside). Hetty, evidently. Sally, Unless the dark one should happen to come in first— but you can't expect me to say any more for sixpence. Skruff. Then the sixpence will have to stay where it was! (Pockets the coin.) Sally. All right ! dare say you want it a deal more than I do ! {Going — siojjs, and bobbing a courtesy.) Please sir, which did you say was the taters?— ha! ha! [Buns off info house. Skruff (looking after her). There goes another candidate for penal servitude! This sort of thing won't do. I m?^«f make up my mind one way or the other, so I'll make a bold stroke for Hetty and chance it! {During this speech Hetty has entered at l. — stops and listens.) n 160 DECLINED— WITH THANKS. Hetty. So, so ! Then I must prepare myself for an equally bold resistance {coming forward humming a tune). Skrvff (seeing he?'). Ah, Miss Hetty! Hetty. Ah, Mr. Skruff! Skruff. Do you know, Miss Hetty, I'm quite pleased with this little place of your uncle's!— there's something about it— a sort of a kind of a— umph ! Hetty. Yes. I have noticed myself that there's something about it — a sort of a kind of a — (imitating Skruff). Skruff. In short, it's the sort of place one could live in alto- gether — I shouldn't mind it myself— hut not alone ! (with a ten- der look at Hetty). Hetty (loith 'pretended senti'mentality). Of course not, Mr. Skruff! "Who would inhabit this bleak world alone?" You would require a companion — with beauty — amiability — and — Skrvyf {sentiinentally). Ten thousand pounds! (Aside.) Neat- ly suggested! Hetty. Ten thousand pounds! Why, that's a fortune, Mr. Samuel ! Skruff (aside). 3fr. Samuel/ She's coming round! By Jove! I'll risk it — neck or nothing, here goes! (suddenly seizing Hetty's hand.) If you had ten thousand pounds. Miss Hetty — do you think you could be happy with a gentleman like me? (very sen- timentally). Hetty (aside). A positive declaration ! (?iiding her face in her handkerchief to conceal her laughter — then trying to release her hand). Release my hand! — I beg! — I implore! If Captain Taunton should see us — Skruff (aside). Captain Taunton! — the fellow that old Gritty was talking about! — after Hetty, is he? That's a sure sign the money lies in this quarter! (Aloud.) Ah, Miss Hetty — these mil- itary gents seldom come to any good! — I should strongly advise you to give him up ! I should indeed ! — if he's a gentleman, he won't make any fuss about it! DECLINED — WITH THANKS. 161 Hetty. Ah, Mr. Skruff, you don't know the captain — his very quietest moments are characterized by the most savage ferocity. Tell me (seizing his arm), can you shoot? Skruff. Well, I used to be considered quite a crack shot at the bull's-eye! Hetty. At the Wimbledon meeting? Skruff. No! at the end of a barrow — for nuts! Hetty. That's nothing! The captain can snuff a candle with a bullet at thirty paces ! Skruff. Can he? but doesn't he find that rather an incon- venient substitute for snuffers? Taunt, {heard idthout at r). Good-bye, then, for the present. HwTTY (starting , and 'pretending alarm). Ah! his voice — my absence has excited his suspicions — should he find us together we are lost! Break the painful intelligence to him gently— but be firm, Samuel, be firm! {Aside.) Now to tell Florence. {^Runs into house l. Skruff. On second thoughts, perhaps I'd better not break the painful intelligence to him on our first interview, it would hardly be delicate. Besides, I really shouldn't like to commit an act of violence on Gritty 's premises — it wouldn't be the right thing to do! Here he comes! I'll pretend not to notice him! (Seats himself at back at l. , atid taking out a neiospaper, which he prete)uls to read.) Enter Captain Taunton at back from r. Taunt, {not seeing Skruff). Yes ! There is no doubt about it, it certainly was risking a good deal to raise that one thousand pounds ; but who could resist Florence's entreaties. One thing is quite certain— Mr. Gritty must know nothing about it. Skruff (watching him over his newspaper). Old Gritty must know nothing about ichatf Taunt. The old gentleman has such a horror of accommoda- tion-bills! 162 DECLINED— WITH THANKS. Skrupf. Oh! oh! accommodation-bills, eh? That's your lit- tle game, my fine fellow, is it? I've got him safe enough now, and can split upon him at any time. I wonder what he's read- ing? {Seeing Taunton, rises and comes cautiously down heliind Mm to look over his shoulder at the letter — stumbles.) Taunt, (looking round — aside). The tailor ! {Aloud.) Perhaps you would like to read my private letters, sir? Skrufp. I should, very much — I mean no, of course not. Taunt. What were you going to say, Mr. — Stuff? Skrufp. Skruff! {Aside.) I wish Miss Hetty had broken the "painful intelligence " to him herself. I don't relish the idea of being " snuffed out " at thirty paces. Never mind, I'll risk it. {Aloud.) Captain Taunton, I believe? Taunt. Well, sir, what then? {angrily). Skrufp. Now don't be jumping down my throat because I've an unpleasant duty to perform. In a word — I deeply regret to inform you — Taunt, (fiercely). You, sir? Skrupf. I mean. Miss Halliday begs me to inform you — Taunt, {imj^etuously). Go on! Skrufp. I'm going to go on, sir. Taunt. Miss Halliday begs you to inform me— what? Skrufp. That when she accepted you as a friend of the fam- ily she had no intention whatever of accepting you as a husband — and note, she thinks — I mean, imagines — I should say, believes, she's made a slight mistake, because she finds she likes some- body else better. Taunt. What 1 {seizing Skrufp by the collar and. shaking Mm.) Skrufp. It's no use giving way to your "savage ferocity," sir; if you don't believe me, you'd better go and ask Miss Het- ty yourself. Taunt, {leaving hold of Qkiiuff). Hetty .f Did you say Hetty? {Aside.) One of her practical jokes evidently. Ha! ha! ha! DECLINED— WITH THANKS. 163 {Pulls out Ills handkercMef and uses it to mnceal Ms laughter, and at the same time drops the letter on stage. Skrufp (m a compassionate tone to Taunton, icho has still got his handkerchief to his face, and patting him commiseratingly on the back). Now don't go and make yourself miserable because another fellow has stepped into the ten thousand pounds! Taunt, {aside). The mercenary rascal! I see Hetty's "little game " now. Skruff. Keep your pecker up, noble captain. I didn't mean to cut you out, upon my life I didn't! Taunt, {aside). I'll humor the fellow. {Aloud, and with a very deep sigh.) Well, Mr. — Mr. — Skruff. One moment (2rresents card to Taunton). Tajji^t. {reading). " Skruff— Tailor— Conduit Street. Orders promptly attended to." Your information, Mr. Skruff, I confess, is not a pleasant one ! Far from it, Mr. Skruff ! {gives a wry deep sigh). Skruff. Now don't go on sighing like that, or you'll be doing yourself some frightful internal injury! Taunt. Hetty will make you a good wife, Mr. Skruff, and a good mother to the little Skruff s, Mr. Skruff. Might I ask to be allowed to stand godfather to your first, Mr. Skruff? Skruff. My dear sir, you shall stand godfather to the first dozen or two if j^ou like ! Taunt. Thank you, Mr. Skruff — but alas! alas! what is to be- come of the poor abandoned, broken-hearted Taunton ? {anotJier very deep sigh). Skruff. Well ! I don't like to advise — but I really don't see why you shouldn't chuck yourself in the water, especially if you can't swim ! Taunt, {very quietly). Drown myself — not I! I shall at once propose to the other sister! Skruff {aghast). What! {seeing letter on stage, and putting his foot on it). You mean to propose to Miss Florence? 164 DEOLINED— WITH THANKS. Taunt. Yes! this very day, this very hour! I suppose I shall be safe in that quarter? You won't have the heart to molest me there, Mr. Skruff. {Asids.) Now to let Mallingford know about this wretched little interloper ! I shall be sure to meet him com- ing from the station! {Aloud, and grasping Skrufp's hand.) Good-bye, Mr. Skruff! you have acted nobly! — nobly! — nobly, Mr. Skruff ! [^Shaking his hand violently, and going off at gate r. Skkupf. Havel? Don't be too sure about that! Wheugh! I've got the most excruciating attack of pins and needles all up my leg in trying to hide this letter! {Picks it up.) The question is, ought I to read it? Of course I ought, or how should I know what's in it. Here goes! {Reading letter.) "Dear Harry, I can raise the one thousand pounds on our joint acceptance, for a term — but for Heaven's sake conceal this from Mr. Gritty. Yours, Teddy." Teddy!— Teddy what? Teddy who? Yes; I remember now — I've got him down somewhere! {looking at his memorandum-hook). Here he is ! — " Edward Mallingford " — he's old Gritty 's other young man! Here's a bit of luck! — I've got both the young chaps in m}^ clutches now. Ha! ha! — but stop a bit — {reflecting). Isn't it rather strange, if the captain was really in love with Hetty, that he should give her up so quietly? — then the eagerness with which he bound me down not to cut him out with Florence. What if the money comes to her after all! Luckily, I haven't quite committed myself yet— and what's more, I won't. Florence has entered from house and runs down eagerly to Skruff. Flor. {seizing Skruff's hand). Hetty has told me all — all, Mr. Skruff. I cordially congratulate you on your conquest ! {shaking Skruff's hand molently). Skruff {trying to remove his hajid). I really don't exactly un- derstand — {Aside.) A clear case— they think they've hooked me. If Hetty had got the money they wouldn't be so precious DECLINED — WITH THANKS. 165 polite ! (Aloud.) I'm afraid, miss, we're laboring under some little mistake ! Flor. Mistake ? Not at all ! Did you not propose to my sister? Skruff. Propose? You mean pop? Ha! ha! ha! Excuse my laughing— but it really is so very ridiculous! Flor. Excuse me, Mr. Skruff— but your merriment is an in- sult. Poor Hetty! Fm afraid she'll be quite broken-hearted! Skruff (aside). Another broken-hearted one! It runs in the family ! Flor. Besides, even if Captain Taunton resigns in your fa- vor — Skruff. He Z^as/ in the handsomest manner! He's even pro- posed to stand godfather to our first! but, says I, " No, Taunton, my boy, certainly not," says I, " I will not blight your young life, Taunton, my boy," says I. Flor. How generous of you ! (Aside. ) The little hypocrite ! Skruff (aside). If Hetty doesn't get the money, Florence must! That's logic, so here goes! (Aloud.) Miss Florence, I hope you will pardon the liberty I am about to take— Flor. A liberty! from you— you whom I hope I may look upon as ii friend! (with pretended earnestness). Skruff. Deai^est miss — you may ! Flor. Then I may venture to ask your advice on a matter of the most vital importance to me ! Skruff (aside). Now for Teddy! If Teddy doesn't catch it hot it'll be no fault of mine! So look out for squalls, Teddy! (Aloud.) I think I can guess the subject you are about to refer to — a certain Mr.— Mr. — (taking a side look at his me7noranduni- 6(?o^)— Edward Mallingford? Flor. Exactly! — do you know liim? Skruff. Personally, no !— professionally, as the signer of ac- commodation-bills by the bushel, intimately! Flor. Mr. Mallingford? There must be some mistake! 166 DECLrN"ED— WITH THANKS Skkupp. Yes! it was a gigantic mistake on your old fool of an uncle's part to admit him here at all ! If he'd had a grain of common-sense he'd have seen that he only came here after your ten thousand pounds. Flor. {smiling). My ten thousand pounds ! Bkrjjyy {aside). She doesn't deny it! Rapture! Flor. {drawing a, long sigh). Ah! Mr. Skruff — what dangers surround the hapless girl destined by cruel fate to be an heir- ess! Skruff {in a sympathizing toiu). It must be very unpleasant! though I never was an heiress myself ! Flor. "Would that all men were as disinterested as you, sir! Skruff. True, Miss Florence — for my part, if I were to marry a young lady with ten thousand pounds — Flor. You'd settle it all on herself— I knoio — I'm sure you would! The quiet charm of a country life would be unspeaka- ble rapture to ;p3u! To help her to tend her flowers — to feed her poultry— to grow her own currants and gooseberries — Skruff. And her own eggs— and new-laid butter! Flor. But alas ! Mallingford is my uncle's choice, and our union is irrevocable ! Skruff. It wouldn't break your heart, then, to part with Ted- dy! because if you really do feel a sort of a sneaking kindness for me, I'll do all I can for you, I will indeed. Flor. {with pretended emotion). Oh, Mr. Skruff! — but, of course — my uncle — ah! he's here — \^Runs off hastily into house. Skruff. She refers me to her uncle! nothing could be plain- er! I'll soon obtain his consent*by enlightening his weak mind as to Master Teddy and his friend the captain ! Enter Gritty at back. Gritty. Oh, here you are, Sammy ! What the deuce have you been doing with yourself? Skruff {aside). I must give old Gritty a lesson! {Aloud.) DECLINED — WITH THANKS. 167 Mr. Gritty, allow me to remark, with the greatest possible re- spect, that j'^ou're an infant! a positive infant! Gritty {looking at him — aside). Samuel's been at the sherry! Skruff. Yes, Gritty! there's a simple confiding innocence about you that's positively pitiable! Gritty {angrily). Gently, Samuel, gently! What the deuce are you driving at? Skruff. In one word — what do you know about this Cap- tain Taunton and Teddy? Gritty. Teddy! who the deuce is Teddy? Skruff. Mr. Edward Mallingford. Gritty. That they're as pleasant, gentlemanly a couple of young fellows as you'll find in England ! What have you to say against them, eh? Skruff. Only this, that you've been done, Gritty— decidedly done! Gritty {aside). He decidedly lias been at the sherry! {Aloud.) Your proofs, Mr. Skruff ! {angrily). Skruff. Nothing easier! Read that {hands letter to Gritty). Gritty {reading). What's this ? Can I believe my eyes ? Young men of good family — with handsome allowances — rais- ing the wind in this disreputable manner! It's disgraceful! — then to keep me in the dark — it's petty ! paltry I contemptible ! (loalking iq) and doion). Skruff {following him). That's what / say! It's petty! pal- try! contemptible! GRiTTy {suddenly turning and facing Skruff). Look here, Skruff! if you've no particular desire to be strangled, you'll hold your tongue! I'll break off both engagements at once! Skruff. That's right! Gritty. They shall neither of them dine here to-day! Skruff. Right again ! Gritty {turning sai^agely on him and shouting). Will you hold your infernal tongue ! {Shouting.) Florence! Hetty! 168 DECLINED — WITH THANKS. Enter Florence and Hetty running from hoxtm — Sally foUx)wing. „ ■ [■ What's the matter, uncle? Hetty. ) Gritty. The matter, this! Florence, you'll give up Taunton ! Hetty, Mallingf ord no longer visits here ! TT- ' !• Oh, uncle ! Hetty. ) Skruff {a%ide to Florence). Rely on me. Til never forsake you! Hetty. But, uncle dear ! Skruff {cmde to her). Never mind! /won't give up. Hetty. You forget that if we're not both married by the time I come of age — Flor. "We shall neither of us get the money ! Gritty {angrily). The money may go to the deuce"! Skruff. No! don't say that, Gritty ! {Aside to Mm.) I'll take one of 'em! I don't care which! {Aside.) What a pity I can't marry them both ! {Bell rings; Sally runs and opens gate; en- ter Taunton and Mallingford). Gritty. Here they both are! Captain Taunton {bowing dis- tantly). I regret to inform you that the engagement between you and my niece is broken off ! To you, Mr. Mallingford, I can only repeat the same. ■ [ {astounded). You surely must be joking, sir. Skruff {aside). Is he though! Stick to 'em. Gritty! stick to 'em I Taunt, {to Gritty). We require to know your reasons, sir. Skruff. Natural enough. By all means, Gritty. Give the gentlemen your reasons. Gritty. Gritty. In a word, then, this gentleman {pointing to Skruff) informs me — DECLINED— WITH THANKS. 169 Sk-rttff (sho^lt^ng). No sucli thing ! I deny it! {Aside to Grit- ty.) Don't go and drag me into it. Gritty {handing letter to Mallingford). Do you know this letter, sir? Malling. {starting). By all that's unfortunate, Taunton, my letter to you! Taunt. About the one thousand pounds? Gritty. You confess it, then? Malling. One moment, sir! Knowing your objections to raising money on bills, my friend Taunton and I would certainly rather you had not seen this letter, but fortunately in this case no bill was necessary. You do not appear to have read the whole of the contents. {Opens letter, and presenting it to Gritty.) Please to turn over the page. Gritty {turning over page of letter, and reading to himself). What's this? Holloa, Samuel, you never told me to turn over! Skruff. Turn over ? What ! at your time of life ! You couldn't have done it ! Gritty {reading letter). ' ' My brother has just returned to town, and I have got a check for the amount we require, so that the confidence of our kind old friend, Mr. Gritty, will not be abused after all." Bravo! I say, Samuel, ain't you glad to hear this, eh? {slapping Skruff on the back). Skruff. Intensely! {Aside.) I wish I was well out of it! Gritty {to Taunton and Mallingford). So you don't owe a penny? Taunt. Not one farthing. Gritty. Then I apologize for my unjust suspicions — although I should like to know what you young fellows could want with one thousand pounds. Flor. Nothing very serious, uncle. Hetty. Merely a commission which these gentlemen have undertaken for Florence and me. Gritty. For you ? 170 DECLIKED— WITH THANKS. Flor. Yes ; the purchase of the meadow behind the orchard, which you have always been so anxious to possess. Hetty. To be our joint gift out of our fortune, uncle, when I came of age. Gritty. Bless their affectionate little hearts! (kissing Floh- ENCE and Hetty). Doesn't this warm one up, eh, Sammy? Skruff. Y-e-8— I do feel warmish! (Aside.) I'm in a raging fever! (Aloud.) Then I suppose, Mr. Gritty, there need be no further concealment as to which of the two (pointing to Flor- ence and Hetty) is the lucky heiress. (Aside.) It's as well to know. Gritty. That's all settled long ago — the ten thousand pounds will be divided equally beween them. Skrupp. Oh! (Aside.) Well, after all, five thousand pounds less, that idiotic meadow is worth having; and I am tolerably secure in the affections of both heiresses — I'm pretty sure of getting one. (Beckoning aside to Taunton.) I believe, sir, I am correct in coming to the conclusion that your affections are fixed on the younger of Mr. Gritty's nieces, Miss Hetty? Taunt. Sir! (indignantly). Skruff. Now don't fly out in that way — it's perfectly im- material to me — you can have your choice — nothing can be fairer than that! Taunt. Before I reply to t/'^?^'' "question, Mr. — Mr. — Skruff. Skruff. Taunt. Mr. Skruff — perhaps you'll be good enough to answer mine— how did you come to open a letter addressed to another? Skruff. How did I open it? In the usual way, I assure you. Taunt. For which I have half a mind to give you a sound horsewhipping! Skruff. My dear sir, as long as you have only half a mind, and keep to it, you may threaten me as much as you think prop- er. Besides, sir, as I flatter myself that Miss Florence honors me with her partiality — (boicing to Florence). DECLINED — WITH THANKS. 171 Flor. Excuse me, Mr. Skruff ! Flattered by your proposal, but compelled to decline {courtesy ing very loio and giving her hcuul to Taunton). Skruff {aside). That's no go. {Aloud.) How silly of me, to be sure! Of course, when I said Miss Florence I meant Miss Hetty {about to advance). Malling. {meeting him). Pardon me, Mr. Skruff! I have a prior claim {holding out his hand to Hetty). Dear Hetty! Hetty {giving her hand to Mallingford). Dear Teddy! Skruff {aside). Another no go. Gritty. Why, Sammy, what a desperate fellow you are — have you been falling in love with both my girls? Taunt. With neither, Mr. Gritty — but desperately smitten with their ten thousand pounds ! Gritty. Oh! oh! that was your little game, eh, Sam? Skruff. I'll trouble you not to 8am me, Mr. Gritty! 1 beg you to understand that I'm not going to stand 8am any longer! {drawing himself uj)). I sha'n't stop to dinner, Gritt}'' ! All {with pretended regret, and in a very appealing tone). Oh, don't say so ! Skruff. But I do say so. Sally (aside to him). Now you haven't told me which is the taters, sir! Skruff. Open the gate, young woman ! (Sally goes to open gate.) Good - morning, Mr. Gritty! Good morning, ladies! I hope you'll be happy — though I wouldn't give much for your chance. {Advancing rapidly to the front.) After all, perhaps I've had a narrow escape — who knows but I may have cause to be grateful that I have been declined — All {icitJi loic courtesies and bows). With thanks ! As Skruff hurries up, accompanied icith repeated bows and courtesies, the CURTAIN FALLS. BEN-HUR: A TALE OF THE CHRIST. Bv Lew. Wallace, New Edition, pp. 552. 16mo, " Cloth, $1 50. Anything so startling, new, and distinctive as the leading feature of this romance does not often appear in works of fiction. . . . Some of Mr. Wal- lace's writing is remarkable for its pathetic eloq^ience. The sw^enes de- scribed in the New Testament are rewritten with the power and skill of an accomplished master of style. — iV. Y. Thyies. Its real basis is a description of the life of the Jews and Romans at the beginning of the Christian era, and this is both forcible and brilliant. . . . We are carried through a surprising variety of scenes ; we witness a sea- fight, a chariot-race, the internal economy of a Roman galley, domestic in- teriors at Antioch, at Jerusalem, and among the tribes of the desert ; pal- aces, prisons, the haunts of dissipated Roman youth, the houses of pious families of Israel. There is plenty of exciting incident ; everything is animated, vivid, and glowing. — N. Y. Tribune. From the opening of the volume to the very close the reader's interest will be kept at the highest pitch, and the novel will be pronounced by all one of the greatest novels of the day. — Boston Post. It is full of poetic beauty, as though born of an Eastern sage, and there is sufficient of Oriental customs, geography, nomenclaturCj etc., to greatly strengthen the semblance. — Boston Commonwealth. "Ben-Hur" is interesting, and its chai*acterization is fine and strong. Meanwhile it evinces careful study of the period in which the scene is laid, and will help those who read it with reasonable attention to realize the nature and conditions of Hebrew life in Jerusalem and Roman life at Antioch at the time of our Saviour's advent. — Examiner, N. Y. It is really Scripture history of Christ's time clothed gracefully and delicately in the flowing and loose drapery of modern fiction. . . . Few late works of fiction excel it in genuine ability and interest — iV. Y. Graphic. One of the most remarkable and delightful books. It is as real and warm as life itself, and as attractive as the grandest and most heroic chapters of history. — Indianapolis Journal. The book is one of unquestionable power, and will be read with un- wonted interest by many readers who are weary of the conventional novel and romance. — Boston Journal. Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. f^" The above ivork sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the United States or Canada, on receipt of the price. CONSTANCE F. WOOLSON'S NOVELS. EAST ANGELS. 16mo, Cloth, $1 25. ANNE. Illustrated. 16mo, Cloth, $1 25. FOR THE MAJOR. 16mo, Cloth, $1 00. CASTLE NOWHERE. 16mo, Cloth, $1 00. {A New Edition^ RODMAN THE KEEPER. Southern Sketches. 16mo, Cloth, $1 00. (^ New Edition.) There is a certain bright cheerfulness in Miss Woolson's writing which invests all her characters with lovable qualities. — Jewish Advocate, N. Y. Miss Woolson is among our few successful writers of interesting mag- azine stories, and her skill and power are perceptible in the delineation of her heroines no less than in the suggestive pictures of local life. — Jewish Messenger, N. Y. Constance Fenimore Woolson may easily become the novelist laureate. — Boston Olohe. Miss Woolson has a graceful fancy, a ready wit, a polished style, and conspicuous dramatic power; while her skill in the development of a story is very remarkable. — London Life. Miss Woolson never once follows the beaten track of the orthodox nov- elist, but strikes a new and richly loaded vein which, so far, is all her own ; and thus we feel, on reading one of her works, a fresh sensation, and we put down the book with a sigh to think our pleasant task of read- ing it is finished. The author's lines must have fallen to her in very pleasant places ; or she has, perhaps, within herself the wealth of woman- ly love and tenderness she pours so freely into all she writes. Such books as hers do much to elevate the moral tone of the day — a quality sadly wanting in novels of the time. — Whitehall Review, Loudon. Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. US'" Harpku & Broth KKs will send the above works hy mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the United States or Canada, on receipt of the price. flBAgVi?