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Lady Frederick, a Comedy in Three Acts

<h2>THE SECOND ACT</h2> The scene is the same as in Act I. Admiral Carlisle is sleeping in an armchair with a handkerchief over his face. Rose is sitting on a grandfather's chair, and Gerald is leaning over the back. Rose. Isn't papa a perfectly adorable chaperon? [The Admiral snores. Gerald. Perfectly. [A pause. Rose. I've started fifteen topics of conversation in the last quarter of an hour, Gerald. Gerald. [Smiling.] Have you? Rose. You always agree with me, and there's an end of it. So I have to rack my brains again. Gerald. All you say is so very wise and sensible. Of course I agree. Rose. I wonder if you'll think me sensible and wise in ten years. Gerald. I'm quite sure I shall. Rose. Why, then, I'm afraid we shan't cultivate any great brilliancy of repartee. Gerald. Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever. Rose. Oh, don't say that. When a man's in love, he at once makes a pedestal of the Ten Commandments and stands on the top of them with his arms akimbo. When a woman's in love she doesn't care two straws for Thou Shalt and Thou Shalt Not. Gerald. When a woman's in love she can put her heart on the slide of a microscope and examine how it beats. When a man's in love, what do you think he cares for science and philosophy and all the rest of it! Rose. When a man's in love he can only write sonnets to the moon. When a woman's in love she can still cook his dinner and darn her own stockings. Gerald. I wish you wouldn't cap all my observations. [She lifts up her face, and he kisses her lips. Rose. I'm beginning to think you're rather nice, you know. Gerald. That's reassuring, at all events. Rose. But no one could accuse you of being a scintillating talker. Gerald. Have you ever watched the lovers in the Park sitting on the benches hour after hour without saying a word? Rose. Why? Gerald. Because I've always thought that they must be bored to the verge of tears. Now I know they're only happy. Rose. You're certainly my soldier, so I suppose I'm your nursery-maid. Gerald. You know, when I was at Trinity College, Dublin—— Rose. [Interrupting.] Were you there? I thought you went to Oxford. Gerald. No, why? Rose. Only all my people go to Magdalen. Gerald. Yes. Rose. And I've decided that if I ever have a son he shall go there too. [The Admiral starts and pulls the handkerchief off his face. The others do not notice him. He is aghast and astounded at the conversation. Lady Frederick comes in later and stands smiling as she listens. Gerald. My darling, you know I hate to thwart you in any way, but I've quite made up my mind that my son shall go to Dublin as I did. Rose. I'm awfully sorry, Gerald, but the boy must be educated like a gentleman. Gerald. There I quite agree, Rose, but first of all he's an Irishman, and it's right that he should be educated in Ireland. Rose. Darling Gerald, a mother's love is naturally the safest guide in these things. Gerald. Dearest Rose, a father's wisdom is always the most reliable. Lady Frederick. Pardon my interfering, but—aren't you just a little previous? Admiral. [Bursting out.] Did you ever hear such a conversation in your life between a young unmarried couple? Rose. My dear papa, we must be prepared for everything. Admiral. In my youth young ladies did not refer to things of that sort. Lady Frederick. Well, I don't suppose they're any the worse for having an elementary knowledge of natural history. Personally I doubt whether ignorance is quite the same thing as virtue, and I'm not quite sure that a girl makes a better wife because she's been brought up like a perfect fool. Admiral. I am old-fashioned, Lady Frederick; and my idea of a modest girl is that when certain topics are mentioned she should swoon. Swoon, madam, swoon. They always did it when I was a lad. Rose. Well, father, I've often tried to faint when I wanted something that you wouldn't give me, and I've never been able to manage it. So I'm sure I couldn't swoon. Admiral. And with regard to this ridiculous discussion as to which University your son is to be sent, you seem to forget that I have the right to be consulted. Gerald. My dear Admiral, I don't see how it can possibly matter to you. Admiral. And before we go any further I should like you to know that the very day Rose was born I determined that her son should go to Cambridge. Rose. My dear papa, I think Gerald and I are far and away the best judges of our son's welfare. Admiral. The boy must work, Rose. I will have no good-for-nothing as my grandson. Gerald. Exactly. And that is why I'm resolved he shall go to Dublin. Rose. The important thing is that he should have really nice manners, and that they teach at Oxford if they teach nothing else. Lady Frederick. Well, don't you think you'd better wait another twenty years or so before you discuss this? Admiral. There are some matters which must be settled at once, Lady Frederick. Lady Frederick. You know, young things are fairly independent nowadays. I don't know what they'll be in twenty years' time. Gerald. The first thing the boy shall learn is obedience. Rose. Certainly. There's nothing so hateful as a disobedient child. Admiral. I can't see my grandson venturing to disobey me. Lady Frederick. Then you're all agreed. So that's settled. I came to tell you your carriage was ready. Admiral. Go and put on your bonnet, Rose. [To Lady Frederick.] Are you coming with us? Lady Frederick. I'm afraid I can't. Au revoir. Admiral. A tout à l'heure. [He and Rose go out. Gerald. Have you ever seen in your life any one so entirely delightful as Rose? Lady Frederick. [Laughing.] Only when I've looked in the glass. Gerald. My dear Elizabeth, how vain you are. Lady Frederick. You're very happy, my Gerald. Gerald. It's such a relief to have got over all the difficulties. I thought it never would come right. You are a brick, Elizabeth. Lady Frederick. I really think I am rather. Gerald. The moment you promised to arrange things I felt as safe as a house. Lady Frederick. I said I'd do my best, didn't I? And I told you not to worry. Gerald. [Turning round suddenly.] Isn't it all right? Lady Frederick. No, it's about as wrong as it can possibly be. I knew Cohen was staying here, and I thought I could get him to hold the bills over for a few days. Gerald. And won't he? Lady Frederick. He hasn't got them any more. Gerald. [Startled.] What! Lady Frederick. They've been negotiated, and he swears he doesn't know who has them. Gerald. But who could have been such a fool? Lady Frederick. I don't know, that's just the awful part of it. It was bad enough before. I knew the worst Cohen could do, but now.... It couldn't be Paradine. Gerald. And then there's Montgomerie. Lady Frederick. I shall see him to-day. Gerald. What are you going to say to him? Lady Frederick. I haven't an idea. I'm rather frightened of him. Gerald. You know, dear, if the worst comes to the worst.... Lady Frederick. Whatever happens you shall marry Rose. I promise you that. [Paradine Fouldes appears. Fouldes. May I come in? Lady Frederick. [Gaily.] It's a public room. I don't see how we can possibly prevent you. Gerald. I'm just going to take a stroll. Lady Frederick. Do. [He goes out. Fouldes. Well? How are things going? Lady Frederick. Quite well, thank you. Fouldes. I've left Charlie with his mother. I hope you can spare him for a couple of hours. Lady Frederick. I told him he must spend the afternoon with her. I don't approve of his neglecting his filial duty. Fouldes. Ah!... I saw Dick Cohen this morning. Lady Frederick. [Quickly.] Did you? Fouldes. It seems to interest you? Lady Frederick. Not at all. Why should it? Fouldes. [Smiling.] Nice little man, isn't he? Lady Frederick. [Good humouredly.] I wish I had something to throw at you. Fouldes. [With a laugh.] Well, I haven't got the confounded bills. I was too late. Lady Frederick. Did you try? Fouldes. Oh—yes, I thought it would interest Charlie to know how extremely needful it was for you to marry him. Lady Frederick. Then who on earth has got them? Fouldes. I haven't an idea, but they must make you very uncomfortable. Three thousand five hundred, eh? Lady Frederick. Don't say it all at once. It sounds so much. Fouldes. You wouldn't like to exchange those letters of Mereston's for seven thousand pounds, would you? Lady Frederick. [Laughing.] No. Fouldes. Ah.... By the way, d'you mind if I tell Charlie the full story of your—relations with me? Lady Frederick. Why should I? It's not I who'll look ridiculous. Fouldes. Thanks. I may avail myself of your permission. Lady Frederick. I daresay you've noticed that Charlie has a very keen sense of humour. Fouldes. If you're going to be disagreeable to me I shall go. [He stops.] I say, are you quite sure there's nothing else that can be brought up against you? Lady Frederick. [Laughing.] Quite sure, thanks. Fouldes. My sister's very jubilant to-day. What about the Bellingham affair? Lady Frederick. Merely scandal, my friend. Fouldes. Well, look out. She's a woman, and she'll stick at nothing. Lady Frederick. I wonder why you warn me. Fouldes. For the sake of old times, my dear. Lady Frederick. You're growing sentimental, Paradine. It's the punishment which the gods inflict on a cynic when he grows old. Fouldes. It may be, but for the life of me I can't forget that once—— Lady Frederick. [Interrupting.] My dear friend, don't rake up my lamentable past. Fouldes. I don't think I've met any one so entirely devoid of sentiment as you are. Lady Frederick. Let us agree that I have every vice under the sun and have done with it. [A Servant comes in.] Servant. Madame Claude wishes to see your ladyship. Lady Frederick. Oh, my dressmaker. Fouldes. Another bill? Lady Frederick. That's the worst of Monte. One meets as many creditors as in Bond Street. Say I'm engaged. Servant. Madame Claude says she will wait till miladi is free. Fouldes. You make a mistake. One should always be polite to people whose bills one can't pay. Lady Frederick. Show her in. Servant. Yes, miladi. [Exit Servant. Fouldes. Is it a big one? Lady Frederick. Oh, no; only seven hundred pounds. Fouldes. By Jove. Lady Frederick. My dear friend, one must dress. I can't go about in fig-leaves. Fouldes. One can dress simply. Lady Frederick. I do. That's why it costs so much. Fouldes. You know, you're devilish extravagant. Lady Frederick. I'm not. I'm content with the barest necessities of existence. Fouldes. You've got a maid. Lady Frederick. Of course I've got a maid. I was never taught to dress myself. Fouldes. And you've got a footman. Lady Frederick. I've always had a footman. And my mother always had a footman. I couldn't live a day without him. Fouldes. What does he do for you? Lady Frederick. He inspires confidence in tradesmen. Fouldes. And you have the most expensive suite of rooms in the hotel. Lady Frederick. I'm in such a dreadful mess. If I hadn't got nice rooms I should brood over it. Fouldes. Then, as if that weren't enough, you fling your money away at the tables. Lady Frederick. When you're as poor as I am, a few louis more or less can make absolutely no difference. Fouldes. [With a laugh.] You're quite incorrigible. Lady Frederick. It's really not my fault. I do try to be economical, but money slips through my fingers like water. I can't help it. Fouldes. You want a sensible sort of a man to look after you. Lady Frederick. I want a very rich sort of a man to look after me. Fouldes. If you were my wife, I should advertise in the papers that I wasn't responsible for your debts. Lady Frederick. If you were my husband, I'd advertise immediately underneath that I wasn't responsible for your manners. Fouldes. I wonder why you're so reckless. Lady Frederick. When my husband was alive I was so utterly wretched. And afterwards, when I looked forward to a little happiness, my boy died. Then I didn't care any more. I did everything I could to stupefy myself. I squandered money as other women take morphia—that's all. Fouldes. It's the same dear scatter-brained, good-hearted Betsy that I used to know. Lady Frederick. You're the only person who calls me Betsy now. To all the others I'm only Elizabeth. Fouldes. Look here, what are you going to do with this dressmaker? Lady Frederick. I don't know. I always trust to the inspiration of the moment. Fouldes. She'll make a devil of a fuss, won't she? Lady Frederick. Oh, no; I shall be quite nice to her. Fouldes. I daresay. But won't she be very disagreeable to you? Lady Frederick. You don't know what a way I have with my creditors. Fouldes. I know it's not a paying way. Lady Frederick. Isn't it? I bet you a hundred louis that I offer her the money and she refuses it. Fouldes. I'll take that. Lady Frederick. Here she is. [Madame Claude enters, ushered in by the Servant. She is a stout, genteel person, very splendidly gowned, with a Cockney accent. Her face is set to sternness, decision to make a scene, and general sourness. Servant. Madame Claude. [Exit Servant. Lady Frederick goes up to her enthusiastically and takes both her hands. Lady Frederick. Best of women. This is a joyful surprise. Madame Claude. [Drawing herself up.] I 'eard quite by chance that your ladyship was at Monte. Lady Frederick. So you came to see me at once. That was nice of you. You're the very person I wanted to see. Madame Claude. [Significantly.] I'm glad of that, my lady, I must confess. Lady Frederick. You dear creature. That's one advantage of Monte Carlo, one meets all one's friends. Do you know Mr. Fouldes? This is Madame Claude, an artist, my dear Paradine, a real artist. Madame Claude. [Grimly.] I'm pleased that your ladyship should think so. Fouldes. How d'you do. Lady Frederick. Now, this gown. Look, look, look. In this skirt there's genius, mon cher. In the way it hangs my whole character is expressed. Observe the fullness of it, that indicates those admirable virtues which make me an ornament to Society, while the frill at the bottom just suggests those foibles—you can hardly call them faults—which add a certain grace and interest to my personality. And the flounce. Paradine, I beseech you to look at it carefully. I would sooner have designed this flounce than won the Battle of Waterloo. Madame Claude. Your ladyship is very kind. Lady Frederick. Not at all, not at all. You remember that rose chiffon. I wore it the other day, and the dear Archduchess came up to me and said: "My dear, my dear." I thought she was going to have a fit. But when she recovered she kissed me on both cheeks and said: "Lady Frederick, you have a dressmaker worth her weight in gold." You heard her, Paradine, didn't you? Fouldes. You forget that I only arrived last night. Lady Frederick. Of course. How stupid of me. She'll be perfectly delighted to hear that you're in Monte Carlo. But I shall have to break it to her gently. Madame Claude. [Unmoved.] I'm sorry to intrude upon your ladyship. Lady Frederick. Now what are you talking about? If you hadn't come to see me I should never have forgiven you. Madame Claude. I wanted to have a little talk with your ladyship. Lady Frederick. Oh, but I hope we shall have many little talks. Have you brought your motor down? Madame Claude. Yes. Lady Frederick. That's charming. You shall take me for a drive in it every day. I hope you're going to stay some time. Madame Claude. That depends on circumstances, Lady Frederick. I 'ave a little business to do here. Lady Frederick. Then let me give you one warning—don't gamble. Madame Claude. Oh, no, my lady. I gamble quite enough in my business as it is. I never know when my customers will pay their bills—if ever. Lady Frederick. [Slightly taken aback.] Ha, ha, ha. Fouldes. [With a deep guffaw.] Ho, ho, ho. Lady Frederick. Isn't she clever? I must tell that to the Archduchess. She'll be so amused. Ha, ha, ha, ha. The dear Archduchess, you know she loves a little joke. You must really meet her. Will you come and lunch? I know you'd hit it off together. Madame Claude. [More genially.] That's very kind of your ladyship. Lady Frederick. My dear, you know perfectly well that I've always looked upon you as one of my best friends. Now who shall we have? There's you and me and the Archduchess. Then I'll ask Lord Mereston. Madame Claude. The Marquess of Mereston, Lady Frederick? Lady Frederick. Yes. And Mr. Fouldes, his uncle. Madame Claude. Excuse me, are you the Mr. Paradine Fouldes? Fouldes. [Bowing.] At your service, madam. Madame Claude. I'm so glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Fouldes. [Unctuously.] I've always heard you're such a bad man. Fouldes. Madam, you overwhelm me with confusion. Madame Claude. Believe me, Mr. Fouldes, it's not the ladies that are married to saints who take the trouble to dress well. Lady Frederick. Now we want a third man. Shall we ask my brother—you know Sir Gerald O'Mara, don't you? Or shall we ask Prince Doniani? Yes, I think we'll ask the Prince. I'm sure you'd like him. Such a handsome man! That'll make six. Madame Claude. It's very kind of you, Lady Frederick, but—well, I'm only a tradeswoman, you know. Lady Frederick. A tradeswoman? How can you talk such nonsense. You are an artist—a real artist, my dear. And an artist is fit to meet a king. Madame Claude. Well, I don't deny that I'd be ashamed to dress my customers in the gowns I see painted at the Royal Academy. Lady Frederick. Then it's quite settled, isn't it, Madame Claude—oh, may I call you Ada? Madame Claude. Oh, Lady Frederick, I should be very much flattered. But how did you know that was my name? Lady Frederick. Why you wrote me a letter only the other day. Madame Claude. Did I? Lady Frederick. And such a cross letter too. Madame Claude. [Apologetically.] Oh, but Lady Frederick, that was only in the way of business. I don't exactly remember what expressions I may have made use of—— Lady Frederick. [Interrupting, as if the truth had suddenly flashed across her.] Ada! I do believe you came here to-day about my account. Madame Claude. Oh, no, my lady, I promise you. Lady Frederick. You did; I know you did. I see it in your face. Now that really wasn't nice of you. I thought you came as a friend. Madame Claude. I did, Lady Frederick. Lady Frederick. No, you wanted to dun me. I'm disappointed in you. I did think, after all the things I've had from you, you wouldn't treat me like that. Madame Claude. But I assure your ladyship.... Lady Frederick. Not another word. You came to ask for a cheque. You shall have it. Madame Claude. No, Lady Frederick, I wouldn't take it. Lady Frederick. What is the exact figure, Madame Claude? Madame Claude. I—I don't remember. Lady Frederick. Seven hundred and fifty pounds, seventeen and ninepence. You see, I remember. You came for your cheque and you shall have it. [She sits down and takes a pen. Madame Claude. Now, Lady Frederick, I should look upon that as most unkind. It's treating me like a very second-rate establishment. Lady Frederick. I'm sorry, but you should have thought of that before. Now I haven't got a cheque; how tiresome. Madame Claude. Oh, it doesn't matter, Lady Frederick. I promise you it never entered my 'ead. Lady Frederick. What shall I do? Fouldes. You can write it on a sheet of paper, you know. Lady Frederick. [With a look, aside to him.] Monster! [Aloud.] Of course I can. I hadn't thought of that. [She takes a sheet of paper.] But how on earth am I to get a stamp? Fouldes. [Much amused.] I happen to have one on me. Lady Frederick. I wonder why on earth you should have English stamps in Monte Carlo? Fouldes. [Handing her one.] A penny stamp may sometimes save one a hundred louis. Lady Frederick. [Ironically.] Thanks so much. I write the name of my bank on the top, don't I? Pay Madame Claude.... Madame Claude. Now, it's no good, Lady Frederick, I won't take it. After all I 'ave my self-respect to think of. Lady Frederick. It's too late now. Madame Claude. [Sniffing a little.] No, no, Lady Frederick. Don't be too 'ard on me. As one lady to another I ask you to forgive me. I did come about my account, but—well, I don't want the money. Lady Frederick. [Looking up good-humouredly.] Well, well. [She looks at the cheque.] It shall be as you wish. There. [She tears it up.] Madame Claude. Oh, thank you, Lady Frederick. I look upon that as a real favour. And now I really must be getting off. Lady Frederick. Must you go? Well, good-bye. Paradine, take Madame Claude to her motor. Ada! [She kisses her on the cheek. Madame Claude. [Going.] I am pleased to have seen you. [Paradine offers his arm and goes out with Madame Claude. Lady Frederick goes to the window, stands on a chair and waves her handkerchief. While she is doing this Captain Montgomerie enters. Captain Montgomerie. How d'you do? Lady Frederick. [Getting down.] How nice of you to come. I wanted to see you. Captain Montgomerie. May I sit down? Lady Frederick. Of course. There are one or two things I'd like to talk to you about. Captain Montgomerie. Yes? Lady Frederick. First I must thank you for your great kindness to Gerald. I didn't know last night that he owed you a good deal of money. Captain Montgomerie. It's a mere trifle. Lady Frederick. You must be very rich to call nine hundred pounds that? Captain Montgomerie. I am. Lady Frederick. [With a laugh.] All the same it's extremely good of you to give him plenty of time. Captain Montgomerie. I told Gerald he could have till to-morrow. Lady Frederick. Obviously he wants to settle with you as soon as ever he can. Captain Montgomerie. [Quietly.] I often wonder why gambling debts are known as debts of honour. Lady Frederick. [Looking at him steadily.] Of course I realise that if you choose to press for the money and Gerald can't pay—he'll have to send in his papers. Captain Montgomerie. [Lightly.] You may be quite sure I have no wish to bring about such a calamity. By the way, have you thought over our little talk of last night? Lady Frederick. No. Captain Montgomerie. You would have been wise to do so. Lady Frederick. My dear Captain Montgomerie, you really can't expect me to marry you because my brother has been so foolish as to lose more money at poker than he can afford. Captain Montgomerie. Did you ever hear that my father was a money-lender? Lady Frederick. A lucrative profession, I believe. Captain Montgomerie. He found it so. He was a Polish Jew called Aaron Levitzki. He came to this country with three shillings in his pocket. He lent half-a-crown of it to a friend on the condition that he should be paid back seven and six in three days. Lady Frederick. I'm not good at figures, but the interest sounds rather high. Captain Montgomerie. It is. That was one of my father's specialities. From these humble beginnings his business grew to such proportions that at his death he was able to leave me the name and arms of the great family of Montgomerie and something over a million of money. Lady Frederick. The result of thrift, industry, and good fortune. Captain Montgomerie. My father was able to gratify all his ambitions but one. He was eaten up with the desire to move in good society, and this he was never able to achieve. His dying wish was that I should live in those circles which he knew only.... Lady Frederick. Across the counter? Captain Montgomerie. Precisely. But my poor father was a little ignorant in these matters. To him one lord was as good as another. He thought a Marquess a finer man than an Earl, and a Viscount than a Baron. He would never have understood that a penniless Irish baronet might go into better society than many a belted earl. Lady Frederick. And what is the application of this? Captain Montgomerie. I wanted to explain to you one of the reasons which emboldened me last night to make you a proposal of marriage. Lady Frederick. But surely you know some very nice people. I saw you lunching the other day with the widow of a city knight. Captain Montgomerie. Many very excellent persons are glad to have me to dine with them. But I know quite well that they're not the real article. I'm as far off as ever from getting into those houses which you have been used to all your life. I'm not content with third-rate earls and rather seedy dowagers. Lady Frederick. Forgive my frankness, but—aren't you rather a snob? Captain Montgomerie. My father, Aaron Levitzki, married an English woman, and I have all the English virtues. Lady Frederick. But I'm not quite sure that people would swallow you even as my husband. Captain Montgomerie. They'd make a face, but they'd swallow me right enough. And when I asked them down to the best shoot in England they'd come to the conclusion that I agreed with them very well. Lady Frederick. [Still rather amused.] Your offer is eminently businesslike, but you see I'm not a business woman. It doesn't appeal to me. Captain Montgomerie. I only ask you to perform such of the duties of a wife as are required by Society. They are few enough in all conscience. I should wish you to entertain largely and receive my guests, be polite to me, at least in public, and go with me to the various places people go to. Otherwise I leave you entire freedom. You will find me generous and heedful to all your wishes. Lady Frederick. Captain Montgomerie, I don't know how much of all that you have said is meant seriously. But, surely you're not choosing the right time to make such a proposal when my brother owes you so much money that if you care to be hard you can ruin him. Captain Montgomerie. Why not? Lady Frederick. D'you mean to say...? Captain Montgomerie. I will be quite frank with you. I should never have allowed Gerald to lose so much money which there was no likelihood of his being able to pay, if I had not thought it earned me some claim upon your gratitude. Lady Frederick. [Shortly.] Gerald will pay every penny he owes you to-morrow. Captain Montgomerie. [Blandly.] Where d'you suppose he'll get it? Lady Frederick. I have no doubt I shall be able to manage something. Captain Montgomerie. Have you not tried this morning, entirely without success? Lady Frederick. [Startled.] What? Captain Montgomerie. You do not forget that you have sundry moneys of your own which are payable to-morrow? Lady Frederick. How d'you know that? Captain Montgomerie. I told you that when I took a thing in hand I carried it through. You went to Dick Cohen, and he told you he'd parted with the bills. Didn't you guess that only one man could have the least interest in taking them over? Lady Frederick. You? Captain Montgomerie. Yes. Lady Frederick. Oh, God. Captain Montgomerie. Come, come, don't be worried over it. There's nothing to be alarmed about. I'm a very decent chap—if you'd accepted me right away you would never have known that those bills were in my possession. Think it over once more. I'm sure we should get on well together. I can give you what you most need, money and the liberty to fling it away as recklessly as you choose; you can give me the assured and fixed position on which—my father's heart was set. Lady Frederick. And if I don't accept, you'll make me a bankrupt and you'll ruin Gerald? Captain Montgomerie. I refuse to consider that very unpleasant alternative. Lady Frederick. Oh! I can't, I can't. Captain Montgomerie. [Laughing.] But you must, you must. When shall I come for your answer? To-morrow? I'll come with the bills and Gerald's I.O.U. in my pocket, and you shall burn them yourself. Good-bye. [He kisses her hand and goes out. Lady Frederick remains staring in front of her. Mereston enters, followed by Lady Mereston and Paradine. Mereston. [Going to her eagerly.] Hulloa! I wondered what on earth had become of you. Lady Frederick. [With a laugh.] It's only two hours since I chased you away from me. Mereston. I'm afraid I bore you to death. Lady Frederick. Don't be so silly. You know you don't. Mereston. Where are you going now? Lady Frederick. I have rather a headache. I'm going to lie down. Mereston. I'm so sorry. [Lady Frederick goes out. Mereston stares after her anxiously, and makes a step towards the door. Lady Mereston. [Sharply.] Where are you going, Charlie? Mereston. I never asked Lady Frederick if I could do anything. Lady Mereston. Good heavens, there are surely plenty of servants in the hotel to get her anything she wants. Mereston. Don't you think a drive in the motor would do her good? Lady Mereston. [Unable to control herself.] Oh, I have no patience with you. I never saw such a ridiculous infatuation in my life. Paradine. Steady, old girl, steady. Mereston. What on earth d'you mean, mother? Lady Mereston. Presumably you're not going to deny that you're in love with that woman. Mereston. [Growing pale.] Would you mind speaking of her as Lady Frederick? Lady Mereston. You try me very much, Charlie. Please answer my question. Mereston. I don't want to seem unkind to you, mother, but I think you have no right to ask about my private affairs. Fouldes. If you're going to talk this matter over you're more likely to come to an understanding if you both keep your tempers. Mereston. There's nothing I wish to discuss. Lady Mereston. Don't be absurd, Charlie. You're with Lady Frederick morning, noon and night. She can never stir a yard from the hotel but you go flying after. You pester her with your ridiculous attentions. Fouldes. [Blandly.] One's relations have always such an engaging frankness. Like a bad looking-glass, they always represent you with a crooked nose and a cast in your eye. Lady Mereston. [To Mereston.] I have certainly a right to know what you mean by all this and what is going to come of it. Mereston. I don't know what will come of it. Fouldes. The question that excites our curiosity is this: are you going to ask Lady Frederick to marry you? Mereston. I refuse to answer that. It seems to me excessively impertinent. Fouldes. Come, come, my boy, you're too young to play the heavy father. We're both your friends. Hadn't you better make a clean breast of it? After all, your mother and I are interested in nothing so much as your welfare. Lady Mereston. [Imploring.] Charlie! Mereston. Of course I'd ask her to marry me if I thought for a moment that she'd accept. But I'm so terrified that she'll refuse, and then perhaps I shall never see her again. Lady Mereston. The boy's stark, staring mad. Mereston. I don't know what I should do if she sent me about my business. I'd rather continue in this awful uncertainty than lose all hope for ever. Fouldes. By George. You're pretty far gone, my son. The lover who's diffident is in a much worse way than the lover who protests. Lady Mereston. [With a little laugh.] I must say it amuses me that Lady Frederick should have had both my brother and my son dangling at her skirts. Your respective passions are separated by quite a number of years. Mereston. Lady Frederick has already told me of that incident. Fouldes. With the usual indiscretion of her sex. Mereston. It appears that she was very unhappy and you, with questionable taste, made love to her. Fouldes. Do your best not to preach at me, dear boy. It reminds me of your lamented father. Mereston. And at last she promised to go away with you. You were to meet at Waterloo Station. Fouldes. Such a draughty place for an assignation. Mereston. Your train was to start at nine, and you were going to take the boat over to the Channel Isles. Fouldes. Lady Frederick has a very remarkable memory. I remember hoping the sea wouldn't be rough. Mereston. And just as the train was starting her eye fell on the clock. At that moment her child was coming down to breakfast and would ask for her. Before you could stop her she'd jumped out of the carriage. The train was moving, and you couldn't get out, so you were taken on to Weymouth—alone. Lady Mereston. You must have felt a quite egregious ass, Paradine. Fouldes. I did, but you need not rub it in. Lady Mereston. Doesn't it occur to you, Charlie, that a woman who loves so easily can't be very worthy of your affection? Mereston. But, my dear mother, d'you think she cared for my uncle? Fouldes. What the dickens d'you mean? Mereston. D'you suppose if she loved you she would have hesitated to come? D'you know her so little as that? She thought of her child only because she was quite indifferent to you. Fouldes. [Crossly.] You know nothing about it, and you're an impertinent young jackanapes. Lady Mereston. My dear Paradine, what can it matter if Lady Frederick was in love with you or not? Fouldes. [Calming down.] Of course it doesn't matter a bit. Lady Mereston. I have no doubt you mistook wounded vanity for a broken heart. Fouldes. [Acidly.] My dear, you sometimes say things which explain to me why my brother-in-law so frequently abandoned his own fireside for the platform of Exeter Hall. Mereston. It may also interest you to learn that I am perfectly aware of Lady Frederick's financial difficulties. I know she has two bills falling due to-morrow. Fouldes. She's a very clever woman. Mereston. I've implored her to let me lend her the money, and she absolutely refuses. You see, she's kept nothing from me at all. Lady Mereston. My dear Charlie, it's a very old dodge to confess what doesn't matter in order to conceal what does. Mereston. What do you mean, mother? Lady Mereston. Lady Frederick has told you nothing of the Bellingham affair? Mereston. Why should she? Lady Mereston. It is surely expedient you should know that the woman you have some idea of marrying escaped the divorce court only by the skin of her teeth. Mereston. I don't believe that, mother. Fouldes. Remember that you're talking to your respected parent, my boy. Mereston. I'm sorry that my mother should utter base and contemptible libels on—my greatest friend. Lady Mereston. You may be quite sure that I say nothing which I can't prove. Mereston. I won't listen to anything against Lady Frederick. Lady Mereston. But you must. Mereston. Are you quite indifferent to the great pain you cause me? Lady Mereston. I can't allow you to marry a woman who's hopelessly immoral. Mereston. Mother, how dare you say that? Fouldes. This isn't the sort of thing I much like, but hadn't you better hear the worst at once? Mereston. Very well. But if my mother insists on saying things, she must say them in Lady Frederick's presence. Lady Mereston. That I'm quite willing to do. Mereston. Good. [He rings the bell. A servant enters. Fouldes. You'd better take care, Maudie. Lady Frederick's a dangerous woman to play the fool with. Mereston. [To the servant.] Go to Lady Frederick Berolles and say Lord Mereston is extremely sorry to trouble her ladyship, but would be very much obliged if she'd come to the drawing-room for two minutes. Servant. Very well, my lord. [Exit. Fouldes. What are you going to do, Maud? Lady Mereston. I knew there was a letter in existence in Lady Frederick's handwriting which proved all I've said about her. I've moved heaven and earth to get hold of it, and it came this morning. Fouldes. Don't be such a fool. You're not going to use that? Lady Mereston. I am indeed. Fouldes. Your blood be upon your own head. Unless I'm vastly mistaken you'll suffer the greatest humiliation that you can imagine. Lady Mereston. That's absurd. I have nothing to fear. Lady Frederick. comes in. Mereston. I'm so sorry to disturb you. I hope you don't mind? Lady Frederick. Not at all. I knew you wouldn't have sent for me in that fashion without good cause. Mereston. I'm afraid you'll think me dreadfully impertinent. Lady Mereston. Really you need not apologise so much, Charlie. Mereston. My mother has something to say against you, and I think it right that she should say it in your presence. Lady Frederick. That's very nice of you, Charlie—though I confess I prefer people to say horrid things of me only behind my back. Especially if they're true. Fouldes. Look here, I think all this is rather nonsense. We've most of us got something in our past history that we don't want raked up, and we'd all better let bygones be bygones. Lady Frederick. I'm waiting, Lady Mereston. Lady Mereston. It's merely that I thought my son should know that Lady Frederick had been the mistress of Roger Bellingham. [Lady Frederick turns quickly and looks at her; then bursts into a peal of laughter. Lady Mereston springs up angrily and hands her a letter.] Is this in your handwriting? Lady Frederick. [Not at all disconcerted.] Dear me, how did you get hold of this? Lady Mereston. You see that I have ample proof, Lady Frederick. Lady Frederick. [Handing the letter to Mereston.] Would you like to read it? You know my writing well enough to be able to answer Lady Mereston's question. [He reads it through and looks at her in dismay. Mereston. Good God!... What does it mean? Lady Frederick. Pray read it aloud. Mereston. I can't. Lady Frederick. Then give it to me. [She takes it from him.] It's addressed to my brother-in-law, Peter Berolles. The Kate to whom it refers was his wife. [Reads.] Dear Peter: I'm sorry you should have had a row with Kate about Roger Bellingham. You are quite wrong in all you thought. There is absolutely nothing between them. I don't know where Kate was on Tuesday night, but certainly she was not within a hundred miles of Roger. This I know because.... Mereston. [Interrupting.] For God's sake don't go on. [Lady Frederick looks at him and shrugs her shoulders. Lady Frederick. It's signed Elizabeth Berolles. And there's a postscript: You may make what use of this letter you like. Mereston. What does it mean? What does it mean? Lady Mereston. Surely it's very clear? You can't want a more explicit confession of guilt. Lady Frederick. I tried to make it as explicit as possible. Lady Mereston. Won't you say something? I'm sure there must be some explanation. Lady Frederick. I don't know how you got hold of this letter, Lady Mereston. I agree with you, it is compromising. But Kate and Peter are dead now, and there's nothing to prevent me from telling the truth. [Paradine Fouldes takes a step forward and watches her. Lady Frederick. My sister-in-law was a meek and mild little person, as demure as you can imagine, and no one would have suspected her for a moment of kicking over the traces. Well, one morning she came to me in floods of tears and confessed that she and Roger Bellingham [with a shrug] had been foolish. Her husband suspected that something was wrong and had kicked up a row. Fouldes. [Drily.] There are men who will make a scene on the smallest provocation. Lady Frederick. To shield herself she told the first lie that came into her head. She said to Peter that Roger Bellingham was my lover—and she threw herself on my mercy. She was a poor, weak little creature, and if there'd been a scandal she'd have gone to the dogs altogether. It had only been a momentary infatuation for Roger, and the scare had cured her. At the bottom of her heart she loved her husband still. I was desperately unhappy, and I didn't care much what became of me. She promised to turn over a new leaf and all that sort of thing. I thought I'd better give her another chance of going straight. I did what she wanted. I wrote that letter taking all the blame on myself, and Kate lived happily with her husband till she died. Mereston. It was just like you. Lady Mereston. But Lord and Lady Peter are dead? Lady Frederick. Yes. Lady Mereston. And Roger Bellingham? Lady Frederick. He's dead too. Lady Mereston. Then how can you prove your account of this affair? Lady Frederick. I can't. Lady Mereston. And does this convince you, Charlie? Mereston. Of course. Lady Mereston. [Impatiently.] Good heavens, the boy's out of his senses. Paradine, for Heaven's sake say something. Fouldes. Well, much as it may displease you, my dear, I'm afraid I agree with Charlie. Lady Mereston. You don't mean to say you believe this cock-and-bull story? Fouldes. I do. Lady Mereston. Why? Fouldes. Well, you see, Lady Frederick's a very clever woman. She would never have invented such an utterly improbable tale, which can't possibly be proved. If she'd been guilty, she'd have had ready at least a dozen proofs of her innocence. Lady Mereston. But that's absurd. Fouldes. Besides, I've known Lady Frederick a long time, and she has at least a thousand faults. Lady Frederick. [With flashing eyes.] Thanks. Fouldes. But there's something I will say for her. She's not a liar. If she tells me a thing, I don't hesitate for a moment to believe it. Lady Frederick. It's not a matter of the smallest importance if any of you believe me or not. Be so good as to ring, Charlie. Mereston. Certainly. [He rings, and a Servant immediately comes in. Lady Frederick. Tell my servant that he's to come here at once and bring the despatch-box which is in my dressing-room. Servant. Yes, miladi. [Exit. Fouldes. [Quickly.] I say, what are you going to do? Lady Frederick. That is absolutely no business of yours. Fouldes. Be a brick, Betsy, and don't give her those letters. Lady Frederick. I think I've had enough of this business. I'm proposing to finish with it. Fouldes. Temper, temper. Lady Frederick. [Stamping her foot.] Don't say temper to me, Paradine. [She walks up and down angrily. Paradine sits at the piano and with one finger strums "Rule Britannia." Mereston. Shut up. [He takes a book, flings it at his head and misses. Fouldes. Good shot, sir. Lady Frederick. I often wonder how you got your reputation for wit, Paradine. Fouldes. By making a point of laughing heartily at other people's jokes. [The Footman enters with the despatch-box, which Lady Frederick opens. She takes a bundle of letters from it. Fouldes. Betsy, Betsy, for heaven's sake don't! Have mercy. Lady Frederick. Was mercy shown to me? Albert! Footman. Yes, miladi. Lady Frederick. You'll go to the proprietor of the hotel and tell him that I propose to leave Monte Carlo to-morrow. Mereston. [Aghast.] Are you going? Footman. Very well, my lady. Lady Frederick. Have you a good memory for faces? Footman. Yes, my lady. Lady Frederick. You're not likely to forget Lord Mereston? Footman. No, my lady. Lady Frederick. Then please take note that if his lordship calls upon me in London I'm not at home. Mereston. Lady Frederick! Lady Frederick. [To Footman.] Go. [Exit Footman. Mereston. What d'you mean? What have I done? [Without answering Lady Frederick takes the letters. Paradine is watching her anxiously. She goes up to the stove and throws them in one by one. Lady Mereston. What on earth is she doing? Lady Frederick. I have some letters here which would ruin the happiness of a very worthless woman I know. I'm burning them so that I may never have the temptation to use them. Fouldes. I never saw anything so melodramatic. Lady Frederick. Hold your tongue, Paradine. [Turning to Mereston.] My dear Charlie, I came to Monte Carlo to be amused. Your mother has persecuted me incessantly. Your uncle—is too well-bred to talk to his servants as he has talked to me. I've been pestered in one way and another, and insulted till my blood boiled, because apparently they're afraid you may want to marry me. I'm sick and tired of it. I'm not used to treatment of this sort; my patience is quite exhausted. And since you are the cause of the whole thing I have an obvious remedy. I would much rather not have anything more to do with you. If we meet one another in the street you need not trouble to look my way because I shall cut you dead. Lady Mereston. [In an undertone.] Thank God for that. Mereston. Mother, mother. [To Lady Frederick.] I'm awfully sorry. I feel that you have a right to be angry. For all that you've suffered I beg your pardon most humbly. My mother has said and done things which I regret to say are quite unjustifiable. Lady Mereston. Charlie! Mereston. On her behalf and on mine I apologise with all my heart. Lady Frederick. [Smiling.] Don't take it too seriously. It really doesn't matter. But I think it's far wiser that we shouldn't see one another again. Mereston. But I can't live without you. Lady Mereston. [With a gasp.] Ah! Mereston. Don't you know that my whole happiness is wrapped up in you? I love you with all my heart and soul. I can never love any one but you. Fouldes. [To Lady Mereston.] Now you've done it. You've done it very neatly. Mereston. Don't think me a presumptuous fool. I've been wanting to say this ever since I knew you, but I haven't dared. You're brilliant and charming and fascinating, but I have nothing whatever to offer you. Lady Frederick. [Gently.] My dear Charlie. Mereston. But if you can overlook my faults, I daresay you could make something of me. Won't you marry me? I should look upon it as a great honour, and I would love you always to the end of my life. I'd try to be worthy of my great happiness and you. Lady Frederick. You're very much too modest, Charlie. I'm enormously flattered and grateful. You must give me time to think it over. Lady Mereston. Time? Mereston. But I can't wait. Don't you see how I love you? You'll never meet any one who'll care for you as I do. Lady Frederick. I think you can wait a little. Come and see me to-morrow morning at ten, and I'll give you an answer. Mereston. Very well, if I must. Lady Frederick. [Smiling.] I'm afraid so. Fouldes. [To Lady Frederick.] I wonder what the deuce your little game is now. [She smiles triumphantly and gives him a deep, ironical curtsey. Lady Frederick. Sir, your much obliged and very obedient, humble servant. END OF THE SECOND ACT. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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