The New Woman.
by Sydney Grundy.
THE NEW WOMAN.
ACT I.
SCENE.--_GERALD CAZENOVE"S Chambers. A sitting-room, somewhat effeminately decorated. The furniture of the boudoir type, several antimaca.s.sars and a profusion of photographs and flowers. The main entrance, R. at back, in the flat. Doors, R. and L., window, L. of flat._
_A knock is heard off, as curtain rises. Enter WELLS, L., crosses stage and opens door in flat. Enter COLONEL CAZENOVE and SYLVESTER._
COLONEL.
Is my nephew at home?
WELLS.
No, Colonel; but I expect him every moment.
COLONEL.
Very well; I"ll wait. [_Exit WELLS, door in flat._] Bah! what a stench of flowers! [_Opens window and throws out a bunch of lilies standing on the table below._] Sit down, Sylvester--if you can find a chair to carry twelve stone.
SYLVESTER.
Really, I feel a sort of trespa.s.ser.
COLONEL.
Sit down.
SYLVESTER [_sits_].
I don"t know Cazenove very well----
COLONEL.
I"m much in the same case. Since he came up to town, I"ve only called upon him once before. By Jove, it was enough. Such a set as I met here!
SYLVESTER.
I understood that he was up the river.
COLONEL.
Came back yesterday. Hope it"s done him good. After all, he"s my nephew, and I mean to knock the nonsense out of him.
SYLVESTER.
Colonel, you"re very proud of him; and you have every reason to be.
From all I hear, few men have won more distinction at Oxford.
COLONEL [_pleased_].
Proud of him? My dear Sylvester, that boy has more brains in his little finger than I have--gout. He takes after his aunt Caroline. You remember Caroline?
SYLVESTER.
Oh, I remember Lady Wargrave well.
COLONEL.
Wonderful woman, sir--a heart of gold--and a head--phew! Gerald takes after her. At Oxford, he carried everything before him.
SYLVESTER [_laughing_].
And now these women carry him behind them!
COLONEL.
But he"s a Cazenove! He"ll come right side up. We Cazenoves always do.
We may go under every now and then, but we come up again! It"s in the blood.
SYLVESTER.
According to my wife--and Agnes is a clever woman in her way----
COLONEL.
Don"t know her.
SYLVESTER.
His cultivated spirit and magnetic intellect are one of the brightest hopes for the social progress of our time--[_Laughs._] whatever that may mean!
COLONEL.
Does it mean anything? That is the sort of jargon Gerald was full of, when I saw him last. But he"ll get over it. Intellectual measles.
Oxford"s a fine place, but no mental drainage.
SYLVESTER.
I can form no opinion. I hadn"t the advantage of a university training.
COLONEL.
I had. I was rusticated. We Cazenoves always were--till Gerald"s time.
But he"ll redeem himself. We Cazenoves have always been men, except one. That"s my sister, Caroline; and, by Jove, she"s the next best thing--a woman.