ALMA. Doctor! how are you! I"ve not seen you for a century. (_shakes hands_)
DR. It were more accurate to say a month.
ALMA. A month, a month, a month!
DR. Even in trifles it is well to be exact.
ALMA. I asked you how you were?
DR. Truly, I ought not to repine. The portal sometimes creaketh, but it hangs--it hangs.
ALMA. (_aside_) It ought to!
_Re-enter NED through window, with SIR HUMPHREY on his arm, down C._
DR. Bless my soul--if I may be permitted so strong an expression----
ALMA. You may--you may. It"s quite a relief to hear a little bad language.
DR. Is that you, Sir Humphrey?
SIR H. Yes, doctor. I"ve made friends with Ned again. I said I wouldn"t, but there are some words it"s better to break than to keep.
A son may afford to quarrel with his father, but a father cannot afford to quarrel with his son, especially when he"s the only one.
NED. I was to blame.
SIR H. We won"t go into that. Perhaps there were faults on both sides.
I was a selfish, obstinate old man, who thought of nothing but his own plans and his own ambitions. (_taking ALMA"S hand_) It was you, Mrs.
Blake, who taught me that my son, whatever he may do, is still my son, and that my daughter is my daughter, be she who she may. Where is your wife, Ned?
DR. Hem! Mrs. Chetwynd is indisposed.
NED. Lucy ill! What"s the matter?
DR. I only know that she is in her room.
NED. I"ll go and tell her you are here, father. (_crosses to L._) That"ll bring her down, I warrant. (_Exit, L._)
ALMA. You"ll get on ever so much better by yourselves. I"ll take the doctor for a little walk. Come along, doctor. You can talk; I"ll listen. I make a splendid congregation when I choose.
DR. I should be charmed, but Mrs. Dozey----
ALMA. Well, you see her condition!
SIR H. I didn"t see Mrs. Dozey. (_approaching her_)
DR. (_crosses to SIR HUMPHREY quickly_) Not so loud! Let sleeping dogs--hem! Wake not the slumberer.
_ALMA putting her arm through DR. DOZEY"S, they both go off, C.R._
SIR H. (_following_) What sprightliness! What commonsense! (_comes down, R._) What kindliness! My life has been a different thing since I have known her. (_sits, R., thoughtfully_) One of the d.u.c.h.esses of St.
Albans was an actress. One of the Countesses of Derby was an actress.
There are precedents--excellent precedents. Lady Chetwynd--Lady Chetwynd.
MRS. D. (_wakes suddenly_) It"s a most extraordinary thing. I can"t get a wink of sleep! other people have no difficulty--why have I? How is it, Dionysius?
SIR H. Your husband isn"t here.
MRS. D. Sir Humphrey! (_rises_)
SIR H. You"re surprised to see me?
MRS. D. Where"s Dionysius? (_crosses to SIR HUMPHREY_)
SIR H. Don"t be so concerned. He"s only gone for a walk with Mrs.
Blake.
MRS. D. With that play-actress?
SIR H. My dear Mrs. Dozey, there is nothing discreditable in the profession of the stage.
MRS. D. That woman"s setting her cap at Dionysius!
SIR H. I hadn"t noticed that she wore a cap.
MRS. D. It"d be more becoming if she did, widow as she is. But there!
I have my doubts about her being a widow at all.
SIR H. (_rising_) Mrs. Dozey!
MRS. D. A bright face is like charity, it covers a mult.i.tude of sins.
SIR H. And a sour face is sometimes like the sins, it has no charity to cover it.
MRS. D. I quite agree with you. (_up stage, aside_) What does he mean by that? (_Exit through window, off R._)
SIR H. How prejudiced people are! What is birth after all? An accident--the merest accident! And isn"t my birth good enough for both of us? My life is very lonely--very lonely.
_Re-enter ALMA through window, from R._
ALMA. Oh! such a jolly row! I"ve left them at it--hammer and tongs--tongues especially.
SIR H. Mrs. Dozey"s of a jealous disposition. A worthy woman but----
ALMA. Rather inclined to go to sleep.
SIR H. Well, after five-and-twenty years of Dozey----
ALMA. I don"t wonder at it.