WHAT EVERY WOMAN KNOWS

JAMES M. BARRIE

ACT I

(James Wylie is about to make a move on the dambrod, and in thelittle Scotch room there is an awful silence befitting the occasion. James with his hand poised--for if he touches a piece he has to playit, Alick will see to that--raises his red head suddenly to readAlick's face. His father, who is Alick, is pretending to be in apanic lest James should make this move. James grins heartlessly, andhis fingers are about to close on the 'man' when some instinct ofself-preservation makes him peep once more. This time Alick iscaught: the unholy ecstasy on his face tells as plain as porridgethat he has been luring James to destruction. James glares; and, toolate, his opponent is a simple old father again. James mops his head, sprawls in the manner most conducive to thought in the Wylie family, and, protruding his underlip, settles down to a reconsideration ofthe board. Alick blows out his cheeks, and a drop of water settles onthe point of his nose. 

You will find them thus any Saturday night (after family worship, which sends the servant to bed); and sometimes the pauses are so longthat in the end they forget whose move it is. 

It is not the room you would be shown into if you were callingsocially on Miss Wylie. The drawing-room for you, and Miss Wylie in acoloured merino to receive you; very likely she would exclaim, "Thisis a pleasant surprise!" though she has seen you coming up the avenueand has just had time to whip the dustcloths off the chairs, and towarn Alick, David and James, that they had better not dare come in tosee you before they have put on a dickey. Nor is this the room inwhich you would dine in solemn grandeur if invited to drop in andtake pot-luck, which is how the Wylies invite, it being a familyweakness to pretend that they sit down in the dining-room daily. Itis the real living-room of the house, where Alick, who will never getused to fashionable ways, can take off his collar and sit happily inhis stocking soles, and James at times would do so also; but catchMaggie letting him. 

There is one very fine chair, but, heavens, not for sitting on; justto give the room a social standing in an emergency. It sneers at theother chairs with an air of insolent superiority, like a haughtybride who has married into the house for money. Otherwise thefurniture is homely; most of it has come from that smaller housewhere the Wylies began. There is the large and shiny chair which canbe turned into a bed if you look the other way for a moment. Jamescannot sit on this chair without gradually sliding down it till he islying luxuriously on the small of his back, his legs indicating, likethe hands of a clock, that it is ten past twelve; a position in whichMaggie shudders to see him receiving company. 

The other chairs are horse-hair, than which nothing is morecomfortable if there be a good slit down the seat. The seats areheavily dented, because all the Wylie family sit down with a dump. The draught-board is on the edge of a large centre table, which alsodisplays four books placed at equal distances from each other, one ofthem a Bible, and another the family album. If these were the onlybooks they would not justify Maggie in calling this chamber thelibrary, her dogged name for it; while David and James call it thewest-room and Alick calls it 'the room, ' which is to him the naturalname for any apartment without a bed in it. There is a bookcase ofpitch pine, which contains six hundred books, with glass doors toprevent your getting at them. 

No one does try to get at the books, for the Wylies are not a readingfamily. They like you to gasp when you see so much literaturegathered together in one prison-house, but they gasp themselves atthe thought that there are persons, chiefly clergymen, who, havingfinished one book, coolly begin another. Nevertheless it was not allvainglory that made David buy this library: it was rather a mightyrespect for education, as something that he has missed. This samefeeling makes him take in the Contemporary Review and stand up to itlike a man. Alick, who also has a respect for education, tries toread the Contemporary, but becomes dispirited, and may be heardmuttering over its pages, 'No, no use, no use, no, ' and sometimeseven 'Oh hell. ' James has no respect for education; and Maggie is atpresent of an open mind. 

They are Wylie and Sons of the local granite quarry, in which Alickwas throughout his working days a mason. It is David who has raisedthem to this position; he climbed up himself step by step (and hewedthe steps), and drew the others up after him. 'Wylie Brothers, ' Alickwould have had the firm called, but David said No, and James said No, and Maggie said No; first honour must be to their father; and Alicknow likes it on the whole, though he often sighs at having to shaveevery day; and on some snell mornings he still creeps from his couchat four and even at two (thinking that his mallet and chisel arecalling him), and begins to pull on his trousers, until the grandeurof them reminds him that he can go to bed again. Sometimes he cries alittle, because there is no more work for him to do for ever andever; and then Maggie gives him a spade (without telling David) orDavid gives him the logs to saw (without telling Maggie). 

We have given James a longer time to make his move than our kindfriends in front will give him, but in the meantime something hasbeen happening. David has come in, wearing a black coat and hisSabbath boots, for he has been to a public meeting. David is nighforty years of age, whiskered like his father and brother (Alick'swhiskers being worn as a sort of cravat round the neck), and he hasthe too brisk manner of one who must arrive anywhere a little beforeany one else. The painter who did the three of them for fifteenpounds (you may observe the canvases on the walls) has caught thischaracteristic, perhaps accidentally, for David is almost steppingout of his frame, as if to hurry off somewhere; while Alick and Jameslook as if they were pinned to the wall for life. All the six ofthem, men and pictures, however, have a family resemblance, likegranite blocks from their own quarry. They are as Scotch as peat forinstance, and they might exchange eyes without any neighbour noticingthe difference, inquisitive little blue eyes that seem to be alwaystotting up the price of things. 

The dambrod players pay no attention to David, nor does he regardthem. Dumping down on the sofa he removes his 'lastic sides, as hisSabbath boots are called, by pushing one foot against the other, getsinto a pair of hand-sewn slippers, deposits the boots as according torule in the ottoman, and crosses to the fire. There must be somethingon David's mind to-night, for he pays no attention to the game, neither gives advice (than which nothing is more maddening) norexchanges a wink with Alick over the parlous condition of James'scrown. You can hear the wag-at-the-wall clock in the lobby ticking. Then David lets himself go; it runs out of him like a hymn:)

DAVID. Oh, let the solid ground Not fail beneath my feet, Before mylife has found What some have found so sweet. 

[This is not a soliloquy, but is offered as a definite statement. Theplayers emerge from their game with difficulty. ]

ALICK [with JAMES's crown in his hand]. What's that you're saying, David?

DAVID [like a public speaker explaining the situation in a few well-chosenwords]. The thing I'm speaking about is Love. 

JAMES [keeping control of himself]. Do you stand there and say you'rein love, David Wylie?

DAVID. Me; what would I do with the thing?

JAMES [who is by no means without pluck]. I see no necessity forcalling it a thing. 

[They are two bachelors who all their lives have been afraid ofnothing but Woman. DAVID in his sportive days--which continue--hasdone roguish things with his arm when conducting a lady home under anumbrella from a soiree, and has both chuckled and been scared onthinking of it afterwards. JAMES, a commoner fellow altogether, hasdiscussed the sex over a glass, but is too canny to be in the companyof less than two young women at a time. ]

DAVID [derisively]. Oho, has she got you, James?

JAMES [feeling the sting of it]. Nobody has got me. 

DAVID. They'll catch you yet, lad. 

JAMES. They'll never catch me. You've been nearer catched yourself. 

ALICK. Yes, Kitty Menzies, David. 

DAVID [feeling himself under the umbrella]. It was a kind of a shavethat. 

ALICK [who knows all that is to be known about women and can speak ofthem without a tremor]. It's a curious thing, but a man cannot helpwinking when he hears that one of his friends has been catched. 

DAVID. That's so. 

JAMES [clinging to his manhood]. And fear of that wink is what haskept the two of us single men. And yet what's the glory of beingsingle?

DAVID. There's no particular glory in it, but it's safe. 

JAMES [putting away his aspirations]. Yes, it's lonely, but it'ssafe. But who did you mean the poetry for, then?

DAVID. For Maggie, of course. 

[You don't know DAVID and JAMES till you know how they love theirsister MAGGIE. ]

ALICK. I thought that. 

DAVID [coming to the second point of his statement about Love]. I sawher reading poetry and saying those words over to herself. 

JAMES. She has such a poetical mind. 

DAVID. Love. There's no doubt as that's what Maggie has set her hearton. And not merely love, but one of those grand noble loves; forthough Maggie is undersized she has a passion for romance. 

JAMES [wandering miserably about the room]. It's terrible not to beable to give Maggie what her heart is set on. 

[The others never pay much attention to JAMES, though he is quite asmart figure in less important houses. ]

ALICK [violently]. Those idiots of men. 

DAVID. Father, did you tell her who had got the minister ofGalashiels?

ALICK [wagging his head sadly]. I had to tell her. And then I--I--bought her a sealskin muff, and I just slipped it into her hands andcame away. 

JAMES [illustrating the sense of justice in the Wylie family]. Ofcourse, to be fair to the man, he never pretended he wanted her. 

DAVID. None of them wants her; that's what depresses her. I wasthinking, father, I would buy her that gold watch and chain inSnibby's window. She hankers after it. 

JAMES [slapping his pocket]. You're too late, David; I've got themfor her. 

DAVID. It's ill done of the minister. Many a pound of steak has thatman had in this house. 

ALICK. You mind the slippers she worked for him?

JAMES. I mind them fine; she began them for William Cathro. She'sgetting on in years, too, though she looks so young. 

ALICK. I never can make up my mind, David, whether her curls make herlook younger or older. 

DAVID [determinedly]. Younger. Whist! I hear her winding the clock. Mind, not a word about the minister to her, James. Don't even mentionreligion this day. 

JAMES. Would it be like me to do such a thing?

DAVID. It would be very like you. And there's that other matter: saynot a syllable about our having a reason for sitting up late to-night. When she says it's bed-time, just all pretend we're notsleepy. 

ALICK. Exactly, and when--

[Here MAGGIE enters, and all three are suddenly engrossed in thedambrod. We could describe MAGGIE at great length. But what is theuse? What you really want to know is whether she was good-looking. No, she was not. Enter MAGGIE, who is not good-looking. When this issaid, all is said. Enter MAGGIE, as it were, with her throat cut fromear to ear. She has a soft Scotch voice and a more resolute mannerthan is perhaps fitting to her plainness; and she stops short atsight of JAMES sprawling unconsciously in the company chair. ]

MAGGIE. James, I wouldn't sit on the fine chair. 

JAMES. I forgot again. 

[But he wishes she had spoken more sharply. Even profanation of thefine chair has not roused her. She takes up her knitting, and theyall suspect that she knows what they have been talking about. ]

MAGGIE. You're late, David, it's nearly bed-time. 

DAVID [finding the subject a safe one]. I was kept late at the publicmeeting. 

ALICK [glad to get so far away from Galashiels]. Was it a goodmeeting?

DAVID. Fairish. [with some heat] That young John Shand WOULD make aspeech. 

MAGGIE. John Shand? Is that the student Shand?

DAVID. The same. It's true he's a student at Glasgow University inthe winter months, but in summer he's just the railway porter here;and I think it's very presumptuous of a young lad like that to make aspeech when he hasn't a penny to bless himself with. 

ALICK. The Shands were always an impudent family, and jealous. Isuppose that's the reason they haven't been on speaking terms with usthis six years. Was it a good speech?

DAVID [illustrating the family's generosity]. It was very fine; buthe needn't have made fun of ME. 

MAGGIE [losing a stitch]. He dared?

DAVID [depressed]. You see I can not get started on a speech withoutsaying things like 'In rising FOR to make a few remarks. '

JAMES. What's wrong with it?

DAVID. He mimicked me, and said, 'Will our worthy chairman come forto go for to answer my questions?' and so on; and they roared. 

JAMES [slapping his money pocket]. The sacket. 

DAVID. I did feel bitterly, father, the want of education. [Withoutknowing it, he has a beautiful way of pronouncing this noble word. ]

MAGGIE [holding out a kind hand to him]. David. 

ALICK. I've missed it sore, David. Even now I feel the want of it inthe very marrow of me. I'm ashamed to think I never gave you yourchance. But when you were young I was so desperate poor, how could Ido it, Maggie?

MAGGIE. It wasn't possible, father. 

ALICK [gazing at the book-shelves]. To be able to understand thesebooks! To up with them one at a time and scrape them as clean asthough they were a bowl of brose. Lads, it's not to riches, it's toscholarship that I make my humble bow. 

JAMES [who is good at bathos]. There's ten yards of them. And theywere selected by the minister of Galashiels. He said--

DAVID [quickly]. James. 

JAMES. I mean--I mean--

MAGGIE [calmly]. I suppose you mean what you say, James. I hear, David, that the minister of Galashiels is to be married on that MissTurnbull. 

DAVID [on guard]. So they were saying. 

ALICK. All I can say is she has made a poor bargain. 

MAGGIE [the damned]. I wonder at you, father. He's a very nicegentleman. I'm sure I hope he has chosen wisely. 

JAMES. Not him. 

MAGGIE [getting near her tragedy]. How can you say that when youdon't know her? I expect she is full of charm. 

ALICK. Charm? It's the very word he used. 

DAVID. Havering idiot. 

ALICK. What IS charm, exactly, Maggie?

MAGGIE. Oh, it's--it's a sort of bloom on a woman. If you have it, you don't need to have anything else; and if you don't have it, itdoesn't much matter what else you have. Some women, the few, havecharm for all; and most have charm for one. But some have charm fornone. 

[Somehow she has stopped knitting. Her men-folk are very depressed. JAMES brings his fist down on the table with a crash. ]

JAMES [shouting]. I have a sister that has charm. 

MAGGIE. No, James, you haven't. 

JAMES [rushing at her with the watch and chain]. Ha'e, Maggie. 

[She lets them lie in her lap. ]

DAVID. Maggie, would you like a silk?

MAGGIE. What could I do with a silk? [With a gust of passion] Youmight as well dress up a little brown hen. 

[They wriggle miserably. ]

JAMES [stamping]. Bring him here to me. 

MAGGIE. Bring whom, James?

JAMES. David, I would be obliged if you wouldn't kick me beneath thetable. 

MAGGIE [rising]. Let's be practical; let's go to our beds. 

[This reminds them that they have a job on hand in which she is notto share. ]

DAVID [slily]. I don't feel very sleepy yet. 

ALICK. Nor me either. 

JAMES. You've just taken the very words out of my mouth. 

DAVID [with unusual politeness]. Good-night to you Maggie. 

MAGGIE [fixing the three of them]. ALL of you unsleepy, when, as iswell known, ten o'clock is your regular bed-time?

JAMES. Yes, it's common knowledge that we go to our beds at ten. [Chuckling] That's what we're counting on. 

MAGGIE. Counting on?

DAVID. You stupid whelp. 

JAMES. What have I done?

MAGGIE [folding her arms]. There's something up. You've got to tellme, David. 

DAVID [who knows when he is beaten]. Go out and watch, James. 

MAGGIE. Watch?

[JAMES takes himself off, armed, as MAGGIE notices, with a stick. ]

DAVID [in his alert business way]. Maggie, there are burglars about. 

MAGGIE. Burglars? [She sits rigid, but she is not the kind toscream. ]

DAVID. We hadn't meant for to tell you till we nabbed them; butthey've been in this room twice of late. We sat up last night waitingfor them, and we're to sit up again to-night. 

MAGGIE. The silver plate. 

DAVID. It's all safe as yet. That makes us think that they wereeither frightened away these other times, or that they are comingback for to make a clean sweep. 

MAGGIE. How did you get to know about this?

DAVID. It was on Tuesday that the polissman called at the quarry witha very queer story. He had seen a man climbing out at this window atten past two. 

MAGGIE. Did he chase him?

DAVID. It was so dark he lost sight of him at once. 

ALICK. Tell her about the window. 

DAVID. We've found out that the catch of the window has been pushedback by slipping the blade of a knife between the woodwork. 

MAGGIE. David. 

ALICK. The polissman said he was carrying a little carpet bag. 

MAGGIE. The silver plate IS gone. 

DAVID. No, no. We were thinking that very likely he has bunches ofkeys in the bag. 

MAGGIE. Or weapons. 

DAVID. As for that, we have some pretty stout weapons ourselves inthe umbrella stand. So, if you'll go to your bed, Maggie--

MAGGIE. Me? and my brothers in danger. 

ALICK. There's just one of them. 

MAGGIE. The polissman just saw one. 

DAVID [licking his palms]. I would be very pleased if there werethree of them. 

MAGGIE. I watch with you. I would be very pleased if there were fourof them. 

DAVID. And they say she has no charm!

[JAMES returns on tiptoe as if the burglars were beneath the table. He signs to every one to breathe no more, and then whispers hisnews. ]

JAMES. He's there. I had no sooner gone out than I saw him slidingdown the garden wall, close to the rhubarbs. 

ALICK. What's he like?

JAMES. He's an ugly customer. That's all I could see. There was alittle carpet bag in his hand. 

DAVID. That's him. 

JAMES. He slunk into the rhodydendrons, and he's there now, watchingthe window. 

DAVID. We have him. Out with the light. 

[The room is beautified by a chandelier fitted for three gas jets, but with the advance of progress one of these has been removed andthe incandescent light put in its place. This alone is lit. ALICKclimbs a chair, pulls a little chain, and the room is now but vaguelylit by the fire. It plays fitfully on four sparkling faces. ]

MAGGIE. Do you think he saw you, James?

JAMES. I couldn't say, but in any case I was too clever for him. Ilooked up at the stars, and yawned loud at them as if I wastremendous sleepy. 

[There is a long pause during which they are lurking in the shadows. At last they hear some movement, and they steal like ghosts from theroom. We see DAVID turning out the lobby light; then the door closesand an empty room awaits the intruder with a shudder of expectancy. The window opens and shuts as softly as if this were a mother peeringin to see whether her baby is asleep. Then the head of a man showsbetween the curtains. The remainder of him follows. He is carrying alittle carpet bag. He stands irresolute; what puzzles him evidentlyis that the Wylies should have retired to rest without lifting thatpiece of coal off the fire. He opens the door and peeps into thelobby, listening to the wag-at-the-wall clock. All seems serene, andhe turns on the light. We see him clearly now. He is JOHN SHAND, agetwenty-one, boots muddy, as an indignant carpet can testify. He wearsa shabby topcoat and a cockerty bonnet; otherwise he is in the well-worn corduroys of a railway porter. His movements, at first stealthy, become almost homely as he feels that he is secure. He opens the bagand takes out a bunch of keys, a small paper parcel, and a blackimplement that may be a burglar's jemmy. This cool customer examinesthe fire and piles on more coals. With the keys he opens the door ofthe bookcase, selects two large volumes, and brings them to thetable. He takes off his topcoat and opens his parcel, which we nowsee contains sheets of foolscap paper. His next action shows that the'jemmy' is really a ruler. He knows where the pen and ink are kept. He pulls the fine chair nearer to the table, sits on it, and proceedsto write, occasionally dotting the carpet with ink as he stabs theair with his pen. He is so occupied that he does not see the dooropening, and the Wylie family staring at him. They are armed withsticks. ]

ALICK [at last]. When you're ready, John Shand. 

[JOHN hints back, and then he has the grace to rise, dogged andexpressionless. ]

JAMES [like a railway porter]. Ticket, please. 

DAVID. You can't think of anything clever for to go for to say now, John. 

MAGGIE. I hope you find that chair comfortable, young man. 

JOHN. I have no complaint to make against the chair. 

ALICK [who is really distressed]. A native of the town. The disgraceto your family! I feel pity for the Shands this night. 

JOHN [glowering]. I'll thank you, Mr. Wylie, not to pity my family. 

JAMES. Canny, canny. 

MAGGIE [that sense of justice again]. I think you should let theyoung man explain. It mayn't be so bad as we thought. 

DAVID. Explain away, my billie. 

JOHN. Only the uneducated would need an explanation. I'm a student, [with a little passion] and I'm desperate for want of books. You haveall I want here; no use to you but for display; well, I came here tostudy. I come twice weekly. [Amazement of his hosts. ]

DAVID [who is the first to recover]. By the window. 

JOHN. Do you think a Shand would so far lower himself as to enteryour door? Well, is it a case for the police?

JAMES. It is. 

MAGGIE [not so much out of the goodness of her heart as to patronisethe Shands]. It seems to me it's a case for us all to go to our bedsand leave the young man to study; but not on that chair. [And shewheels the chair away from him. ]

JOHN. Thank you, Miss Maggie, but I couldn't be beholden to you. 

JAMES. My opinion is that he's nobody, so out with him. 

JOHN. Yes, out with me. And you'll be cheered to hear I'm likely tobe a nobody for a long time to come. 

DAVID [who had been beginning to respect him]. Are you a poorscholar?

JOHN. On the contrary, I'm a brilliant scholar. 

DAVID. It's siller, then?

JOHN [glorified by experiences he has shared with many a gallantsoul]. My first year at college I lived on a barrel of potatoes, andwe had just a sofa-bed between two of us; when the one lay down theother had to get up. Do you think it was hardship? It was sublime. But this year I can't afford it. I'll have to stay on here, collecting the tickets of the illiterate, such as you, when I mightbe with Romulus and Remus among the stars. 

JAMES [summing up]. Havers. 

DAVID [in whose head some design is vaguely taking shape]. Whist, James. I must say, young lad, I like your spirit. Now tell me, what'syour professors' opinion of your future. 

JOHN. They think me a young man of extraordinary promise. 

DAVID. You have a name here for high moral character. 

JOHN. And justly. 

DAVID. Are you serious-minded?

JOHN. I never laughed in my life. 

DAVID. Who do you sit under in Glasgow?

JOHN. Mr. Flemister of the Sauchiehall High. 

DAVID. Are you a Sabbath-school teacher?

JOHN. I am. 

DAVID. One more question. Are you promised?

JOHN. To a lady?

DAVID. Yes. 

JOHN. I've never given one of them a single word of encouragement. I'm too much occupied thinking about my career. 

DAVID. So. [He reflects, and finally indicates by a jerk of the headthat he wishes to talk with his father behind the door. ]

JAMES [longingly]. Do you want me too?

[But they go out without even answering him. ]

MAGGIE. I don't know what maggot they have in their heads, but sitdown, young man, till they come back. 

JOHN. My name's Mr. Shand, and till I'm called that I decline to sitdown again in this house. 

MAGGIE. Then I'm thinking, young sir, you'll have a weary wait. 

[While he waits you can see how pinched his face is. He is littlemore than a boy, and he seldom has enough to eat. DAVID and ALICKreturn presently, looking as sly as if they had been discussing somemove on the dambrod, as indeed they have. ]

DAVID [suddenly become genial]. Sit down, Mr. Shand, and pull in yourchair. You'll have a thimbleful of something to keep the cold out?[Briskly] Glasses, Maggie. 

[She wonders, but gets glasses and decanter from the sideboard, whichJAMES calls the chiffy. DAVID and ALICK, in the most friendly manner, also draw up to the table. ]

You're not a totaller, I hope?

JOHN [guardedly]. I'm practically a totaller. 

DAVID. So are we. How do you take it? Is there any hot water, Maggie?

JOHN. If I take it at all, and I haven't made up my mind yet, I'lltake it cold. 

DAVID. You'll take it hot, James?

JAMES [also sitting at the table but completely befogged]. No, I--

DAVID [decisively] I think you'll take it hot, James. 

JAMES [sulking]. I'll take it hot. 

DAVID. The kettle, Maggie. 

[JAMES has evidently to take it hot so that they can get at thebusiness now on hand, while MAGGIE goes kitchenward for the kettle. ]

ALICK. Now, David, quick, before she comes back. 

DAVID. Mr. Shand, we have an offer to make you. 

JOHN [warningly]. No patronage. 

ALICK. It's strictly a business affair. 

DAVID. Leave it to me, father. It's this--[But to his annoyance thesuspicious MAGGIE has already returned with the kettle. ] Maggie, don't you see that you're not wanted?

MAGGIE [sitting down by the fire and resuming her knitting]. I do, David. 

DAVID. I have a proposition to put before Mr. Shand, and women areout of place in business transactions. 

[The needles continue to click. ]

ALICK [sighing]. We'll have to let her bide, David. 

DAVID [sternly]. Woman. [But even this does not budge her. ] Very wellthen, sit there, but don't interfere, mind. Mr. Shand, we're willing, the three of us, to lay out L300 on your education if--

JOHN. Take care. 

DAVID [slowly, which is not his wont]. On condition that five yearsfrom now, Maggie Wylie, if still unmarried, can claim to marry you, should such be her wish; the thing to be perfectly open on her side, but you to be strictly tied down. 

JAMES [enlightened]. So, so. 

DAVID [resuming his smart manner]. Now, what have you to say? Decide. 

JOHN [after a pause]. I regret to say--

MAGGIE. It doesn't matter what he regrets to say, because I decideagainst it. And I think it was very ill-done of you to make any suchproposal. 

DAVID [without looking at her]. Quiet, Maggie. 

JOHN [looking at her]. I must say, Miss Maggie, I don't see whatreasons YOU can have for being so set against it. 

MAGGIE. If you would grow a beard, Mr. Shand, the reasons wouldn't bequite so obvious. 

JOHN. I'll never grow a beard. 

MAGGIE. Then you're done for at the start. 

ALICK. Come, come. 

MAGGIE. Seeing I have refused the young man--

JOHN. Refused!

DAVID. That's no reason why we shouldn't have his friendly opinion. Your objections, Mr. Shand?

JOHN. Simply, it's a one-sided bargain. I admit I'm no catch atpresent; but what could a man of my abilities not soar to with threehundred pounds? Something far above what she could aspire to. 

MAGGIE. Oh, indeed!

DAVID. The position is that without the three hundred you can't soar. 

JOHN. You have me there. 

MAGGIE. Yes, but--

ALICK. You see YOU'RE safeguarded, Maggie; you don't need to take himunless you like, but he has to take you. 

JOHN. That's an unfair arrangement also. 

MAGGIE. I wouldn't dream of it without that condition. 

JOHN. Then you ARE thinking of it?

MAGGIE. Poof!

DAVID. It's a good arrangement for you, Mr. Shand. The chances areyou'll never have to go on with it, for in all probability she'llmarry soon. 

JAMES. She's tremendous run after. 

JOHN. Even if that's true, it's just keeping me in reserve in caseshe misses doing better. 

DAVID [relieved]. That's the situation in a nutshell. 

JOHN. Another thing. Supposing I was to get fond of her?

ALICK [wistfully]. It's very likely. 

JOHN. Yes, and then suppose she was to give me the go-by?

DAVID. You have to risk that. 

JOHN. Or take it the other way. Supposing as I got to know her ICOULD NOT endure her?

DAVID [suavely]. You have both to take risks. 

JAMES [less suavely]. What you need, John Shand, is a clout on thehead. 

JOHN. Three hundred pounds is no great sum. 

DAVID. You can take it or leave it. 

ALICK. No great sum for a student studying for the ministry!

JOHN. Do you think that with that amount of money I would stop shortat being a minister?

DAVID. That's how I like to hear you speak. A young Scotsman of yourability let loose upon the world with L300, what could he not do?It's almost appalling to think of; especially if he went among theEnglish. 

JOHN. What do you think, Miss Maggie?

MAGGIE [who is knitting]. I have no thoughts on the subject eitherway. 

JOHN [after looking her over]. What's her age? She looks young, butthey say it's the curls that does it. 

DAVID [rather happily]. She's one of those women who are eternallyyoung. 

JOHN. I can't take that for an answer. 

DAVID. She's twenty-five. 

JOHN. I'm just twenty-one. 

JAMES. I read in a book that about four years' difference in the agesis the ideal thing. [As usual he is disregarded. ]

DAVID. Well, Mr. Shand?

JOHN [where is his mother?]. I'm willing if she's willing. 

DAVID. Maggie?

MAGGIE. There can be no 'if' about it. It must be an offer. 

JOHN. A Shand give a Wylie such a chance to humiliate him? Never. 

MAGGIE. Then all is off. 

DAVID. Come, come, Mr. Shand, it's just a form. 

JOHN [reluctantly]. Miss Maggie, will you?

MAGGIE [doggedly]. Is it an offer? 

JOHN [dourly]. Yes. 

MAGGIE [rising]. Before I answer I want first to give you a chance ofdrawing back. 

DAVID. Maggie. 

MAGGIE [bravely]. When they said that I have been run after they weremisleading you. I'm without charm; nobody has ever been after me. 

JOHN. Oho!

ALICK. They will be yet. 

JOHN [the innocent]. It shows at least that you haven't been afterthem. 

[His hosts exchange a self-conscious glance. ]

MAGGIE. One thing more; David said I'm twenty-five, I'm twenty-six. 

JOHN. Aha!

MAGGIE. Now be practical. Do you withdraw from the bargain, or do younot?

JOHN [on reflection]. It's a bargain. 

MAGGIE. Then so be it. 

DAVID [hurriedly]. And that's settled. Did you say you would take ithot, Mr. Shand?

JOHN. I think I'll take it neat. 

[The others decide to take it hot, and there is some careful businesshere with the toddy ladles. ]

ALICK. Here's to you, and your career. 

JOHN. Thank you. To you, Miss Maggie. Had we not better draw up alegal document? Lawyer Crosbie could do it on the quiet. 

DAVID. Should we do that, or should we just trust to one another'shonour?

ALICK [gallantly]. Let Maggie decide. 

MAGGIE. I think we would better have a legal document. 

DAVID. We'll have it drawn up to-morrow. I was thinking the best waywould be for to pay the money in five yearly instalments. 

JOHN. I was thinking, better bank the whole sum in my name at once. 

ALICK. I think David's plan's the best. 

JOHN. I think not. Of course if it's not convenient to you--

DAVID [touched to the quick]. It's perfectly convenient. What do yousay, Maggie?

MAGGIE. I agree with John. 

DAVID [with an odd feeling that MAGGIE is now on the other side]. Very well. 

JOHN. Then as that's settled I think I'll be stepping. [He is puttinghis papers back in the bag. ]

ALICK [politely]. If you would like to sit on at your books--

JOHN. As I can come at any orra time now I think I'll be stepping. [MAGGIE helps him into his topcoat. ]

MAGGIE. Have you a muffler, John?

JOHN. I have. [He gets it from his pocket. ]

MAGGIE. You had better put it twice round. [She does this for him. ]

DAVID. Well, good-night to you, Mr. Shand. 

ALICK. And good luck. 

JOHN. Thank you. The same to you. And I'll cry in at your office inthe morning before the 6:20 is due. 

DAVID. I'll have the document ready for you. [There is the awkwardpause that sometimes follows great events. ] I think, Maggie, youmight see Mr. Shand to the door. 

MAGGIE. Certainly. [JOHN is going by the window. ] This way, John. 

[She takes him off by the more usual exit. ]

DAVID. He's a fine frank fellow; and you saw how cleverly he got thebetter of me about banking the money. [As the heads of theconspirators come gleefully together] I tell you, father, he has agrand business head. 

ALICK. Lads, he's canny. He's cannier than any of us. 

JAMES. Except maybe Maggie. He has no idea what a remarkable womanMaggie is. 

ALICK. Best he shouldn't know. Men are nervous of remarkable women. 

JAMES. She's a long time in coming back. 

DAVID [not quite comfortable]. It's a good sign. H'sh. What sort of anight is it, Maggie?

MAGGIE. It's a little blowy. 

[She gets a large dustcloth which is lying folded on a shelf, andproceeds to spread it over the fine chair. The men exchange self-consciousglances. ]

DAVID [stretching himself]. Yes--well, well, oh yes. It's gettinglate. What is it with you, father?

ALICK. I'm ten forty-two. 

JAMES. I'm ten-forty. 

DAVID. Ten forty-two. 

[They wind up their watches. ]

MAGGIE. It's high time we were bedded. [She puts her hands on theirshoulders lovingly, which is the very thing they have been trying toavoid. ] You're very kind to me. 

DAVID. Havers. 

ALICK. Havers. 

JAMES [but this does not matter]. Havers. 

MAGGIE [a little dolefully]. I'm a sort of sorry for the young man, David. 

DAVID. Not at all. You'll be the making of him. [She lifts the twovolumes. ] Are you taking the books to your bed, Maggie?

MAGGIE. Yes. I don't want him to know things I don't know myself. 

[She departs with the books; and ALICK and DAVID, the villains, nowwant to get away from each other. ]

ALICK. Yes--yes. Oh yes--ay, man--it is so--umpha. You'll lift thebig coals off, David. 

[He wanders away to his spring mattress. DAVID removes the coals. ]

JAMES [who would like to sit down and have an argy-bargy]. It's amost romantical affair. [But he gets no answer. ] I wonder how it'llturn out? [No answer. ] She's queer, Maggie. I wonder how some cleverwriters has never noticed how queer women are. It's my belief youcould write a whole book about them. [DAVID remains obdurate. ] It wasvery noble of her to tell him she's twenty-six. [Muttering as he toowanders away. ] But I thought she was twenty-seven. 

[DAVID turns out the light. ]

ACT II

[Six years have elapsed and John Shand's great hour has come. Perhapshis great hour really lies ahead of him, perhaps he had it six yearsago; it often passes us by in the night with such a faint call thatwe don't even turn in our beds. But according to the trumpets this isJohn's great hour; it is the hour for which he has long been workingwith his coat off; and now the coat is on again (broadcloth but ill-fitting), for there is no more to do but await results. He isstanding for Parliament, and this is election night. 

As the scene discloses itself you get, so to speak, one of JohnShand's posters in the face. Vote for Shand. Shand, Shand, Shand. Civil and Religious Liberty, Faith, Hope, Freedom. They are all fly-blown names for Shand. Have a placard about Shand, have a hundredplacards about him, it is snowing Shand to-night in Glasgow; take thepaste out of your eye, and you will see that we are in one of Shand'scommittee rooms. It has been a hairdresser's emporium, but Shand, Shand, Shand has swept through it like a wind, leaving nothing butthe fixtures; why shave, why have your head doused in those basinswhen you can be brushed and scraped and washed up for ever by simplyvoting for Shand?

There are a few hard chairs for yelling Shand from, and then rushingaway. There is an iron spiral staircase that once led to the ladies'hairdressing apartments, but now leads to more Shand, Shand, Shand. Aglass door at the back opens on to the shop proper, screaming Civiland Religious Liberty, Shand, as it opens, and beyond is the streetcrammed with still more Shand pro and con. Men in every sort of garbrush in and out, up and down the stair, shouting the magic word. Thenthere is a lull, and down the stair comes Maggie Wylie, decidedlyoverdressed in blue velvet and (let us get this over) less good-looking than ever. She raises her hands to heaven, she spins roundlike a little teetotum. To her from the street, suffering from adetermination of the word Shand to the mouth, rush Alick and David. Alick is thinner (being older), David is stouter (being older), andthey are both in tweeds and silk hats. ]

MAGGIE. David--have they--is he? quick, quick! DAVID. There's no newsyet, no news. It's terrible. 

[The teetotum revolves more quickly. ]

ALICK. For God's sake, Maggie, sit down. 

MAGGIE. I can't, I can't. 

DAVID. Hold her down. 

[They press her into a chair; JAMES darts in, stouter also. Hisnecktie has gone; he will never again be able to attend a funeral inthat hat. ]

JAMES [wildly]. John Shand's the man for you. John Shand's the manfor you. John Shand's the man for you. 

DAVID [clutching him]. Have you heard anything?

JAMES. Not a word. 

ALICK. Look at her. 

DAVID. Maggie [he goes on his knees beside her, pressing her to himin affectionate anxiety]. It was mad of him to dare. 

MAGGIE. It was grand of him. 

ALICK [moving about distraught]. Insane ambition. 

MAGGIE. Glorious ambition. 

DAVID. Maggie, Maggie, my lamb, best be prepared for the worst. 

MAGGIE [husky]. I am prepared. 

ALICK. Six weary years has she waited for this night. 

MAGGIE. Six brave years has John toiled for this night. 

JAMES. And you could have had him, Maggie, at the end of five. Thedocument says five. 

MAGGIE. Do you think I grudge not being married to him yet? Was I tohamper him till the fight was won?

DAVID [with wrinkled brows]. But if it's lost?

[She can't answer. ]

ALICK [starting]. What's that?

[The three listen at the door, the shouting dies down. ]

DAVID. They're terrible still; what can make them so still?

[JAMES spirits himself away. ALICK and DAVID blanch to hear MAGGIEspeaking softly as if to JOHN. ]

MAGGIE. Did you say you had lost, John? Of course you would lose thefirst time, dear John. Six years. Very well, we'll begin another sixto-night. You'll win yet. [Fiercely] Never give in, John, never givein!

[The roar of the multitude breaks out again and comes rollingnearer. ]

DAVID. I think he's coming. 

[JAMES is fired into the room like a squeezed onion. ]

JAMES. He's coming!

[They may go on speaking, but through the clang outside none couldhear. The populace seems to be trying to take the committee room byassault. Out of the scrimmage a man emerges dishevelled and burstsinto the room, closing the door behind him. It is JOHN SHAND in afive guinea suit, including the hat. There are other changes in himalso, for he has been delving his way through loamy ground all thoseyears. His right shoulder, which he used to raise to pound a paththrough the crowd, now remains permanently in that position. Hismouth tends to close like a box. His eyes are tired, they need someone to pull the lids over them and send him to sleep for a week. Butthey are honest eyes still, and faithful, and could even light up hisface at times with a smile, if the mouth would give a little help. ]

JOHN [clinging to a chair that he may not fly straight to heaven]. I'm in; I'm elected. Majority two hundred and forty-four; I'm JohnShand, M. P. 

[The crowd have the news by this time and their roar breaks the dooropen. JAMES is off at once to tell them that he is to be SHAND'Sbrother-in-law. A teardrop clings to ALICK's nose; DAVID hits outplayfully at JOHN, and JOHN in an ecstasy returns the blow. ]

DAVID. Fling yourself at the door, father, and bar them out. Maggie, what keeps you so quiet now?

MAGGIE [weak in her limbs]. You're sure you're in, John?

JOHN. Majority 244. I've beaten the baronet. I've done it, Maggie, and not a soul to help me; I've done it alone. [His voice breaks; youcould almost pick up the pieces. ] I'm as hoarse as a crow, and I haveto address the Cowcaddens Club yet; David, pump some oxygen into me. 

DAVID. Certainly, Mr. Shand. [While he does it, MAGGIE is seeingvisions. ]

ALICK. What are you doing, Maggie?

MAGGIE. This is the House of Commons, and I'm John, catching theSpeaker's eye for the first time. Do you see a queer little old wifiesitting away up there in the Ladies' Gallery? That's me. 'Mr. Speaker, sir, I rise to make my historic maiden speech. I am noorator, sir'; voice from Ladies' Gallery, 'Are you not, John? you'llsoon let them see that'; cries of 'Silence, woman, ' and generalindignation. 'Mr. Speaker, sir, I stand here diffidently with my eyeson the Treasury Bench'; voice from the Ladies' Gallery, 'And you'llsoon have your coat-tails on it, John'; loud cries of 'Remove thatlittle old wifie, ' in which she is forcibly ejected, and thehonourable gentleman resumes his seat in a torrent of admiringapplause. 

[ALICK and DAVID waggle their proud heads. ]

JOHN [tolerantly]. Maggie, Maggie. 

MAGGIE. You're not angry with me, John?

JOHN. No, no. 

MAGGIE. But you glowered. 

JOHN. I was thinking of Sir Peregrine. Just because I beat him at thepoll he took a shabby revenge; he congratulated me in French, alanguage I haven't taken the trouble to master. 

MAGGIE [becoming a little taller]. Would it help you, John, if youwere to marry a woman that could speak French?

DAVID [quickly]. Not at all. 

MAGGIE [gloriously]. Mon cher Jean, laissez-moi parler le francais, voulez-vous un interprete?

JOHN. Hullo!

MAGGIE. Je suis la soeur francaise de mes deux freres ecossais. 

DAVID [worshipping her]. She's been learning French. 

JOHN [lightly]. Well done. 

MAGGIE [grandly]. They're arriving. 

ALICK. Who?

MAGGIE. Our guests. This is London, and Mrs. John Shand is giving herfirst reception. [Airily] Have I told you, darling, who are comingto-night? There's that dear Sir Peregrine. [To ALICK] Sir Peregrine, this is a pleasure. Avez-vous. .. So sorry we beat you at the poll. 

JOHN. I'm doubting the baronet would sit on you, Maggie. 

MAGGIE. I've invited a lord to sit on the baronet. Voila!

DAVID [delighted]. You thing! You'll find the lords expensive. 

MAGGIE. Just a little cheap lord. [JAMES enters importantly. ] My dearLord Cheap, this is kind of you. 

[JAMES hopes that MAGGIE's reason is not unbalanced. ]

DAVID [who really ought to have had education]. How de doo, Cheap?

JAMES [bewildered]. Maggie---

MAGGIE. Yes, do call me Maggie. 

ALICK [grinning]. She's practising her first party, James. The swellsare at the door. 

JAMES [heavily]. That's what I came to say. They are at the door. 

JOHN. Who?

JAMES. The swells; in their motor. [He gives JOHN three cards. ]

JOHN. 'Mr. Tenterden. '

DAVID. Him that was speaking for you?

JOHN. The same. He's a whip and an Honourable. 'Lady SybilTenterden. ' [Frowns. ] Her! She's his sister. 

MAGGIE. A married woman?

JOHN. No. 'The Comtesse de la Briere. '

MAGGIE [the scholar]. She must be French. 

JOHN. Yes; I think she's some relation. She's a widow. 

JAMES. But what am I to say to them? ['Mr. Shand's compliments, andhe will be proud to receive them' is the very least that the Wyliesexpect. ]

JOHN [who was evidently made for great ends]. Say I'm very busy, butif they care to wait I hope presently to give them a few minutes. 

JAMES [thunderstruck]. Good God, Mr. Shand!

[But it makes him JOHN'S more humble servant than ever, and hedeparts with the message. ]

JOHN [not unaware of the sensation he has created]. I'll go up andlet the crowd see me from the window. 

MAGGIE. But--but--what are we to do with these ladies?

JOHN [as he tramps upwards]. It's your reception, Maggie; this willprove you. 

MAGGIE [growing smaller]. Tell me what you know about this LadySybil?

JOHN. The only thing I know about her is that she thinks me vulgar. 

MAGGIE. You?

JOHN. She has attended some of my meetings, and I'm told she saidthat. 

MAGGIE. What could the woman mean?

JOHN. I wonder. When I come down I'll ask her. 

[With his departure MAGGIE'S nervousness increases. ]

ALICK [encouragingly]. In at them, Maggie, with your French. 

MAGGIE. It's all slipping from me, father. 

DAVID [gloomily]. I'm sure to say 'for to come for to go. '

[The newcomers glorify the room, and MAGGIE feels that they havelifted her up with the tongs and deposited her in one of the basins. They are far from intending to be rude; it is not their fault thatthus do swans scatter the ducks. They do not know that they areguests of the family, they think merely that they are waiting withother strangers in a public room; they undulate inquiringly, and ifMAGGIE could undulate in return she would have no cause for offence. But she suddenly realises that this is an art as yet denied her, andthat though DAVID might buy her evening-gowns as fine as theirs [andis at this moment probably deciding to do so], she would look bettercarrying them in her arms than on her person. She also feels that toemerge from wraps as they are doing is more difficult than to plankyour money on the counter for them. The COMTESSE she could forgive, for she is old; but LADY SYBIL is young and beautiful and comeslazily to rest like a stately ship of Tarsus. ]

COMTESSE [smiling divinely, and speaking with such a pretty accent]. I hope one is not in the way. We were told we might wait. 

MAGGIE [bravely climbing out of the basin]. Certainly--I am sure ifyou will be so--it is--

[She knows that DAVID and her father are very sorry for her. ] 

[A high voice is heard orating outside. ]

SYBIL [screwing her nose deliciously]. He is at it again, Auntie. 

COMTESSE. Mon Dieu! [Like one begging pardon of the universe] It isMr. Tenterden, you understand, making one more of his delightfulspeeches to the crowd. WOULD you be so charming as to shut the door?

[This to DAVID in such appeal that she is evidently making thepetition of her life. DAVID saves her. ]

MAGGIE [determined not to go under]. J'espere que vous--trouvez--cette--reunion--interessante?

COMTESSE. Vous parlez francais? Mais c'est charmant! Voyons, causonsun peu. Racontez-moi tout de ce grand homme, toutes les chosesmerveilleuses qu'il a faites. 

MAGGIE. I--I--Je connais--[Alas!]

COMTESSE [naughtily]. Forgive me, Mademoiselle, I thought you spokeFrench. 

SYBIL [who knows that DAVID admires her shoulders]. How wicked ofyou, Auntie. [To MAGGIE] I assure you none of us can understand herwhen she gallops at that pace. 

MAGGIE [crushed]. It doesn't matter. I will tell Mr. Shand that youare here. 

SYBIL [drawling]. Please don't trouble him. We are really onlywaiting till my brother recovers and can take us back to our hotel. 

MAGGIE. I'll tell him. 

[She is glad to disappear up the stair. ]

COMTESSE. The lady seems distressed. Is she a relation of Mr. Shand?

DAVID. Not for to say a relation. She's my sister. Our name is Wylie. 

[But granite quarries are nothing to them. ]

COMTESSE. How do you do. You are the committee man of Mr. Shand?

DAVID. No, just friends. 

COMTESSE [gaily to the basins]. Aha! I know you. Next, please! Sybil, do you weigh yourself, or are you asleep?

[LADY SYBIL has sunk indolently into a weighing-chair. ]

SYBIL. Not quite, Auntie. 

COMTESSE [the mirror of la politesse]. Tell me all about Mr. Shand. Was it here that he--picked up the pin?

DAVID. The pin?

COMTESSE. As I have read, a self-made man always begins by picking upa pin. After that, as the memoirs say, his rise was rapid. 

[DAVID, however, is once more master of himself, and indeed has begunto tot up the cost of their garments. ]

DAVID. It wasn't a pin he picked up, my lady; it was L300. 

ALICK [who feels that JOHN's greatness has been outside theconversation quite long enough]. And his rise wasn't so rapid, justat first, David!

DAVID. He had his fight. His original intention was to become aminister; he's university-educated, you know; he's not a working-manmember. 

ALICK [with reverence]. He's an M. A. But while he was a student hegot a place in an iron-cementer's business. 

COMTESSE [now far out of her depths]. Iron-cementer?

DAVID. They scrape boilers. 

COMTESSE. I see. The fun men have, Sybil!

DAVID [with some solemnity]. There have been millions made inscraping boilers. They say, father, he went into business so as to beable to pay off the L300. 

ALICK [slily]. So I've heard. 

COMTESSE. Aha--it was a loan?

[DAVID and ALICK are astride their great subject now. ]

DAVID. No, a gift--of a sort--from some well-wishers. But theywouldn't hear of his paying it off, father!

ALICK. Not them!

COMTESSE [restraining an impulse to think of other things]. That waskind, charming. 

ALICK [with a look at DAVID]. Yes. Well, my lady, he developed aperfect genius for the iron-cementing. 

DAVID. But his ambition wasn't satisfied. Soon he had public life inhis eye. As a heckler he was something fearsome; they had to seat himon the platform for to keep him quiet. Next they had to let him intothe Chair. After that he did all the speaking; he cleared all roadsbefore him like a fire-engine; and when this vacancy occurred, youcould hardly say it did occur, so quickly did he step into it. Mylady, there are few more impressive sights in the world than aScotsman on the make. 

COMTESSE. I can well believe it. And now he has said farewell toboilers?

DAVID [impressively]. Not at all; the firm promised if he was electedfor to make him their London manager at L800 a year. 

COMTESSE. There is a strong man for you, Sybil; but I believe youARE asleep. 

SYBIL [stirring herself]. Honestly, I'm not. [Sweetly to the others]But would you mind finding out whether my brother is drawing to aclose?

[DAVID goes out, leaving poor ALICK marooned. The COMTESSE is kind tohim. ]

COMTESSE. Thank you very much. [Which helps ALICK out. ] Don't youlove a strong man, sleepy head?

SYBIL [preening herself]. I never met one. 

COMTESSE. Neither have I. But if you DID meet one, would he wakes youup?

SYBIL. I dare say he would find there were two of us. 

COMTESSE [considering her]. Yes, I think he would. Ever been in love, you cold thing?

SYBIL [yawning]. I have never shot up in flame, Auntie. 

COMTESSE. Think you could manage it?

SYBIL. If Mr. Right came along. 

COMTESSE. As a girl of to-day it would be your duty to tame him. 

SYBIL. As a girl of to-day I would try to do my duty. 

COMTESSE. And if it turned out that HE tamed you instead?

SYBIL. He would have to do that if he were MY Mr. Right. 

COMTESSE. And then?

SYBIL. Then, of course, I should adore him. Auntie, I think if I everreally love it will be like Mary Queen of Scots, who said of herBothwell that she could follow him round the world in her nighty. 

COMTESSE. My petite!

SYBIL. I believe I mean it. 

COMTESSE. Oh, it is quite my conception of your character. Do youknow, I am rather sorry for this Mr. John Shand. 

SYBIL [opening her fine eyes]. Why? He is quite a boor, is he not?

COMTESSE. For that very reason. Because his great hour is alreadynearly sped. That wild bull manner that moves the multitude--theywill laugh at it in your House of Commons. 

SYBIL [indifferent]. I suppose so. 

COMTESSE. Yet if he had education---

SYBIL. Have we not been hearing how superbly he is educated?

COMTESSE. It is such as you or me that he needs to educate him now. You could do it almost too well. 

SYBIL [with that pretty stretch of neck]. I am not sufficientlyinterested. I retire in your favour. How would you begin?

COMTESSE. By asking him to drop in, about five, of course. By theway, I wonder is there a Mrs. Shand?

SYBIL. I have no idea. But they marry young. 

COMTESSE. If there is not, there is probably a lady waiting for him, somewhere in a boiler. 

SYBIL. I dare say. 

[MAGGIE descends. ]

MAGGIE. Mr. Shand will be down directly. 

COMTESSE. Thank you. Your brother has been giving us such aninteresting account of his career. I forget, Sybil, whether he saidthat he was married. 

MAGGIE. No, he's not married; but he will be soon. 

COMTESSE. Ah! [She is merely making conversation. ] A friend of yours?

MAGGIE [now a scorner of herself]. I don't think much of her. 

COMTESSE. In that case, tell me all about her. 

MAGGIE. There's not much to tell. She's common, and stupid. One ofthose who go in for self-culture; and then when the test comes theybreak down. [With sinister enjoyment] She'll be the ruin of him. 

COMTESSE. But is not that sad! Figure to yourself how many men withgreatness before them have been shipwrecked by marrying in the rankfrom which they sprang. 

MAGGIE. I've told her that. 

COMTESSE. But she will not give him up?

MAGGIE. No. 

SYBIL. Why should she if he cares for her? What is her name?

MAGGIE. It's--Maggie. 

COMTESSE [still uninterested]. Well, I am afraid that Maggie is to dofor John. [JOHN comes down. ] Ah, our hero!

JOHN. Sorry I have kept you waiting. The Comtesse?

COMTESSE. And my niece Lady Sybil Tenterden. [SYBIL'S head inclineson its stem. ] She is not really all my niece; I mean I am only halfof her aunt. What a triumph, Mr. Shand!

JOHN. Oh, pretty fair, pretty fair. Your brother has just finishedaddressing the crowd, Lady Sybil. 

SYBIL. Then we must not detain Mr. Shand, Auntie. 

COMTESSE [who unless her heart is touched thinks insinceritycharming]. Only one word. I heard you speak last night. Sublime! Justthe sort of impassioned eloquence that your House of Commons loves. 

JOHN. It's very good of you to say so. 

COMTESSE. But we must run. Bon soir. 

[SYBIL bows as to some one far away. ]

JOHN. Good-night, Lady Sybil. I hear you think I'm vulgar. [Eyebrowsare raised. ]

COMTESSE. My dear Mr. Shand, what absurd---

JOHN. I was told she said that after hearing me speak. 

COMTESSE. Quite a mistake, I---

JOHN [doggedly]. Is it not true?

SYBIL ['waking up']. You seem to know, Mr. Shand; and as you press meso unnecessarily--well, yes, that is how you struck me. 

COMTESSE. My child!

SYBIL [who is a little agitated]. He would have it. 

JOHN [perplexed]. What's the matter? I just wanted to know, becauseif it's true I must alter it. 

COMTESSE. There, Sybil, see how he values your good opinion. 

SYBIL [her svelte figure giving like a fishing-rod]. It is very niceof you to put it in that way, Mr. Shand. Forgive me. 

JOHN. But I don't quite understand yet. Of course, it can't matter tome, Lady Sybil, what you think of me; what I mean is, that I mustn'tbe vulgar if it would be injurious to my career. 

[The fishing-rod regains its rigidity. ]

SYBIL. I see. No, of course, I could not affect your career, MrShand. 

JOHN [who quite understands that he is being challenged]. That's so, Lady Sybil, meaning no offence. 

SYBIL [who has a naughty little impediment in her voice when she ismost alluring]. Of course not. And we are friends again?

JOHN. Certainly. 

SYBIL. Then I hope you will come to see me in London as I present noterrors. 

JOHN [he is a man, is JOHN]. I'll be very pleased. 

SYBIL. Any afternoon about five. 

JOHN. Much obliged. And you can teach me the things I don't know yet, if you'll be so kind. 

SYBIL [the impediment becoming more assertive]. If you wish it, Ishall do my best. 

JOHN. Thank you, Lady Sybil. And who knows there may be one or twothings I can teach you. 

SYBIL [it has now become an angel's hiccough]. Yes, we can help oneanother. Good-bye till then. 

JOHN. Good-bye. Maggie, the ladies are going. 

[During this skirmish MAGGIE has stood apart. At the mention of hername they glance at one another. JOHN escorts SYBIL, but the COMTESSEturns back. ]

COMTESSE. Are you, then, THE Maggie? [MAGGIE nods rather defiantlyand the COMTESSE is distressed. ] But if I had known I would not havesaid those things. Please forgive an old woman. 

MAGGIE. It doesn't matter. 

COMTESSE. I--I dare say it will be all right. Mademoiselle, if I wereyou I would not encourage those tete-a-tetes with Lady Sybil. I amthe rude one, but she is the dangerous one; and I am afraid hisimpudence has attracted her. Bon voyage, Miss Maggie. 

MAGGIE. Good-bye--but I CAN speak French. Je parle francais. Isn'tthat right?

COMTESSE. But, yes, it is excellent. [Making things easy for her]C'est tres bien. 

MAGGIE. Je me suis embrouillee--la derniere fois. 

COMTESSE. Good! Shall I speak more slowly?

MAGGIE. No, no. Nonon, non, faster, faster. 

COMTESSE. J'admire votre courage!

MAGGIE. Je comprends chaque mot. 

COMTESSE. Parfait! Bravo!

MAGGIE. Voila!

COMTESSE. Superbe!

[She goes, applauding; and MAGGIE has a moment of elation, whichhowever has passed before JOHN returns for his hat. ]

MAGGIE. Have you more speaking to do, John? [He is somehow in highgood-humour. ]

JOHN. I must run across and address the Cowcaddens Club. [He sprayshis throat with a hand-spray. ] I wonder if I AM vulgar, Maggie?

MAGGIE. You are not, but _I_ am. 

JOHN. Not that _I_ can see. 

MAGGIE. Look how overdressed I am, John. I knew it was too showy whenI ordered it, and yet I could not resist the thing. But I will toneit down, I will. What did you think of Lady Sybil?

JOHN. That young woman had better be careful. She's a bit of a besom, Maggie. 

MAGGIE. She's beautiful, John. 

JOHN. She has a neat way of stretching herself. For playing with shewould do as well as another. 

[She looks at him wistfully. ]

MAGGIE. You couldn't stay and have a talk for a few minutes?

JOHN. If you want me, Maggie. The longer you keep them waiting, themore they think of you. 

MAGGIE. When are you to announce that we're to be married, John?

JOHN. I won't be long. You've waited a year more than you need havedone, so I think it's your due I should hurry things now. 

MAGGIE. I think it's noble of you. 

JOHN. Not at all, Maggie; the nobleness has been yours in waiting sopatiently. And your brothers would insist on it at any rate. They'rewatching me like cats with a mouse. 

MAGGIE. It's so little I've done to help. 

JOHN. Three hundred pounds. 

MAGGIE. I'm getting a thousand per cent for it. 

JOHN. And very pleased I am you should think so, Maggie. 

MAGGIE. Is it terrible hard to you, John?

JOHN. It's not hard at all. I can say truthfully, Maggie, that all, or nearly all, I've seen of you in these six years has gone toincrease my respect for you. 

MAGGIE. Respect!

JOHN. And a bargain's a bargain. 

MAGGIE. If it wasn't that you're so glorious to me, John, I would letyou off. 

[There is a gleam in his eye, but he puts it out. ]

JOHN. In my opinion, Maggie, we'll be a very happy pair. 

[She accepts this eagerly. ]

MAGGIE. We know each other so well, John, don't we?

JOHN. I'm an extraordinary queer character, and I suppose nobodyknows me well except myself; but I know you, Maggie, to the veryroots of you. 

[She magnanimously lets this remark alone. ]

MAGGIE. And it's not as if there was any other woman you--fanciedmore, John. 

JOHN. There's none whatever. 

MAGGIE. If there ever should be--oh, if there ever should be! Somewoman with charm. 

JOHN. Maggie, you forget yourself. There couldn't be another womanonce I was a married man. 

MAGGIE. One has heard of such things. 

JOHN. Not in Scotsmen, Maggie; not in Scotsmen. 

MAGGIE. I've sometimes thought, John, that the difference between usand the English is that the Scotch are hard in all other respects butsoft with women, and the English are hard with women but soft in allother respects. 

JOHN. You've forgotten the grandest moral attribute of a Scotsman, Maggie, that he'll do nothing which might damage his career. 

MAGGIE. Ah, but John, whatever you do, you do it so tremendously; andif you were to love, what a passion it would be. 

JOHN. There's something in that, I suppose. 

MAGGIE. And then, what could I do? For the desire of my life now, John, is to help you to get everything you want, except just that Iwant you to have me, too. 

JOHN. We'll get on fine, Maggie. 

MAGGIE. You're just making the best of it. They say that love issympathy, and if that's so, mine must be a great love for you, for Isee all you are feeling this night and bravely hiding; I feel for youas if I was John Shand myself. [He sighs. ]

JOHN. I had best go to the meeting, Maggie. 

MAGGIE. Not yet. Can you look me in the face, John, and deny thatthere is surging within you a mighty desire to be free, to begin thenew life untrammelled?

JOHN. Leave such maggots alone, Maggie. 

MAGGIE. It's a shame of me not to give you up. 

JOHN. I would consider you a very foolish woman if you did. 

MAGGIE. If I were John Shand I would no more want to take MaggieWylie with me through the beautiful door that has opened wide for youthan I would want to take an old pair of shoon. Why don't you bangthe door in my face, John? [A tremor runs through JOHN. ]

JOHN. A bargain's a bargain, Maggie. 

[MAGGIE moves about, an eerie figure, breaking into little cries. Sheflutters round him, threateningly. ]

MAGGIE. Say one word about wanting to get out of it, and I'll put thelawyers on you. 

JOHN. Have I hinted at such a thing?

MAGGIE. The document holds you hard and fast. 

JOHN. It does. 

[She gloats miserably. ]

MAGGIE. The woman never rises with the man. I'll drag you down, John. I'll drag you down. 

JOHN. Have no fear of that, I won't let you. I'm too strong. 

MAGGIE. You'll miss the prettiest thing in the world, and all owingto me. 

JOHN. What's that?

MAGGIE. Romance. 

JOHN. Poof. 

MAGGIE. All's cold and grey without it, John. They that have had ithave slipped in and out of heaven. 

JOHN. You're exaggerating, Maggie. 

MAGGIE. You've worked so hard, you've had none of the fun that comesto most men long before they're your age. 

JOHN. I never was one for fun. I cannot call to mind, Maggie, everhaving laughed in my life. 

MAGGIE. You have no sense of humour. 

JOHN. Not a spark. 

MAGGIE. I've sometimes thought that if you had, it might make youfonder of me. I think one needs a sense of humour to be fond of me. 

JOHN. I remember reading of some one that said it needed a surgicaloperation to get a joke into a Scotsman's head. 

MAGGIE. Yes, that's been said. 

JOHN. What beats me, Maggie, is how you could insert a joke with anoperation. 

[He considers this and gives it up. ]

MAGGIE. That's not the kind of fun I was thinking of. I mean fun withthe lasses, John--gay, jolly, harmless fun. They could be impudentfashionable beauties now, stretching themselves to attract you, likethat hiccoughing little devil, and running away from you, andcrooking their fingers to you to run after them. 

[He draws a big breath. ]

JOHN. No, I never had that. 

MAGGIE. It's every man's birthright, and you would have it now butfor me. 

JOHN. I can do without, Maggie. 

MAGGIE. It's like missing out all the Saturdays. 

JOHN. You feel sure, I suppose, that an older man wouldn't suit youbetter, Maggie?

MAGGIE. I couldn't feel surer of anything. You're just my ideal. 

JOHN. Yes, yes. Well, that's as it should be. 

[She threatens him again. ]

MAGGIE. David has the document. It's carefully locked away. 

JOHN. He would naturally take good care of it. 

[The pride of the Wylies deserts her. ]

MAGGIE. John, I make you a solemn promise that, in consideration ofthe circumstances of our marriage, if you should ever fall in loveI'll act differently from other wives. 

JOHN. There will be no occasion, Maggie. 

[Her voice becomes tremulous. ]

MAGGIE. John, David doesn't have the document. He thinks he has, butI have it here. 

[Somewhat heavily JOHN surveys the fatal paper. ]

JOHN. Well do I mind the look of it, Maggie. Yes, yes, that's it. Umpha. 

MAGGIE. You don't ask why I've brought it. 

JOHN. Why did you?

MAGGIE. Because I thought I might perhaps have the courage and thewomanliness to give it back to you. [JOHN has a brief dream. ] Willyou never hold it up against me in the future that I couldn't dothat?

JOHN. I promise you, Maggie, I never will. 

MAGGIE. To go back to The Pans and take up my old life there, whenall these six years my eyes have been centred on this night! I'vebeen waiting for this night as long as you have been; and now to goback there, and wizen and dry up, when I might be married to JohnShand!

JOHN. And you will be, Maggie. You have my word. 

MAGGIE. Never--never--never. [She tears up the document. He remainsseated immovable, but the gleam returns to his eye. She rages firstat herself and then at him. ] I'm a fool, a fool, to let you go. Itell you, you'll rue this day, for you need me, you'll come to griefwithout me. There's nobody can help you as I could have helped you. I'm essential to your career, and you're blind not to see it. 

JOHN. What's that, Maggie? In no circumstances would I allow anymeddling with my career. 

MAGGIE. You would never have known I was meddling with it. But that'sover. Don't be in too great a hurry to marry, John. Have your flingwith the beautiful dolls first. Get the whiphand of the haughty ones, John. Give them their licks. Every time they hiccough let them havean extra slap in memory of me. And be sure to remember this, my man, that the one who marries you will find you out. 

JOHN. Find me out?

MAGGIE. However careful a man is, his wife always finds out hisfailings. 

JOHN. I don't know, Maggie, to what failings you refer. 

[The Cowcaddens Club has burst its walls, and is pouring this way toraise the new Member on its crest. The first wave hurls itselfagainst the barber's shop with cries of 'Shand, Shand, Shand. ' For amoment, JOHN stems the torrent by planting his back against thedoor. ]

You are acting under an impulse, Maggie, and I can't take advantageof it. Think the matter over, and we'll speak about it in themorning. 

MAGGIE. No, I can't go through it again. It ends to-night and now. Good luck, John. 

[She is immediately submerged in the sea that surges through thedoor, bringing much wreckage with it. In a moment the place is sofull that another cupful could not find standing room. Some slipperyones are squeezed upwards and remain aloft as warnings. JOHN hasjumped on to the stair, and harangues the flood vainly like anotherCanute. It is something about freedom and noble minds, and, thoughunheard, goes to all heads, including the speaker's. By the time heis audible sentiment has him for her own. ]

JOHN. But, gentlemen, one may have too much even of freedom [No, no. ]Yes, Mr. Adamson. One may want to be tied. [Never, never. ] I say yes, Willie Cameron; and I have found a young lady who I am proud to sayis willing to be tied to me. I'm to be married. [Uproar. ] Her name'sMiss Wylie. [Transport. ] Quiet; she's here now. [Frenzy. ] She washere! Where are you, Maggie? [A small voice--'I'm here. ' A hundredgreat voices--'Where--where--where?' The small voice--'I'm so littlenone of you can see me. ']

[Three men, name of Wylie, buffet their way forward. ]

DAVID. James, father, have you grip of her?

ALICK. We've got her. 

DAVID. Then hoist her up. 

[The queer little elated figure is raised aloft. With her fingers shecan just touch the stars. Not unconscious of the nobility of hisbehaviour, the hero of the evening points an impressive finger ather. ]

JOHN. Gentlemen, the future Mrs. John Shand! [Cries of 'Speech, speech!'] No, no, being a lady she can't make a speech, but---

[The heroine of the evening surprises him. ]

MAGGIE. I can make a speech, and I will make a speech, and it's intwo words, and they're these [holding out her arms to enfold all themembers of the Cowcaddens Club]--My Constituents! [Dementia. ]

ACT III

[A few minutes ago the Comtesse de la Briere, who has not recentlybeen in England, was shown into the London home of the Shands. Thoughnot sufficiently interested to express her surprise in words, sheraised her eyebrows on finding herself in a charming room; she haspresumed that the Shand scheme of decoration would be as impossibleas themselves. 

It is the little room behind the dining-room for which Englisharchitects have long been famous; 'Make something of this, and youwill indeed be a clever one, ' they seem to say to you as they unveilit. The Comtesse finds that John has undoubtedly made something ofit. It is his 'study' (mon Dieu, the words these English use!) andthere is nothing in it that offends; there is so much not in it toothat might so easily have been there. It is not in the least ornate;there are no colours quarrelling with each other (unseen, unheard bythe blissful occupant of the revolving chair); the Comtesse has noteven the gentle satisfaction of noting a 'suite' in stained oak. Nature might have taken a share in the decorations, so restful arethey to the eyes; it is the working room of a man of culture, probably lately down from Oxford; at a first meeting there is nothingin it that pretends to be what it is not. Our visitor is a littledisappointed, but being fair-minded blows her absent host a kiss fordisappointing her. 

He has even, she observes with a twinkle, made something of the mostdifficult of his possessions, the little wife. For Maggie, who ishere receiving her, has been quite creditably toned down. He has puther into a little grey frock that not only deals gently with herpersonal defects, but is in harmony with the room. Evidently, however, she has not 'risen' with him, for she is as ever; theComtesse, who remembers having liked her the better of the two, couldshake her for being so stupid. For instance, why is she not assertingherself in that other apartment?

The other apartment is really a correctly solemn dining-room, ofwhich we have a glimpse through partly open folding-doors. At thismoment it is harbouring Mr. Shand's ladies' committee, who sit withpens and foolscap round the large table, awaiting the advent of theirleader. There are nobly wise ones and some foolish ones among them, for we are back in the strange days when it was considered'unwomanly' for women to have minds. The Comtesse peeps at them withcuriosity, as they arrange their papers or are ushered into thedining-room through a door which we cannot see. To her frivolousladyship they are a species of wild fowl, and she is specially amusedto find her niece among them. She demands an explanation as soon asthe communicating doors close. ]

COMTESSE. Tell me since when has my dear Sybil become one of theseladies? It is not like her. 

[MAGGIE is obviously not clever enough to understand the womanquestion. Her eye rests longingly on a half-finished stocking as sheinnocently but densely replies:]

 MAGGIE. I think it was about the time that my husband took up theircause. 

[The COMTESSE has been hearing tales of LADY SYBIL and the barbarian;and after having the grace to hesitate, she speaks with thedirectness for which she is famed in Mayfair. ]

COMTESSE. Mrs. Shand, excuse me for saying that if half of what Ihear be true, your husband is seeing that lady a great deal toooften. [MAGGIE is expressionless; she reaches for her stocking, whereat her guest loses patience. ] Oh, mon Dieu, put that down; youcan buy them at two francs the pair. Mrs. Shand, why do not youcompel yourself to take an intelligent interest in your husband'swork?

MAGGIE. I typewrite his speeches. 

COMTESSE. But do you know what they are about?

MAGGIE. They are about various subjects. 

COMTESSE. Oh!

[Did MAGGIE give her an unseen quizzical glance before demurelyresuming the knitting? One is not certain, as JOHN has come in, andthis obliterates her. A 'Scotsman on the make, ' of whom DAVID hasspoken reverently, is still to be read--in a somewhat better boundvolume--in JOHN SHAND's person; but it is as doggedly honest a faceas ever; and he champions women, not for personal ends, but becausehis blessed days of poverty gave him a light upon their needs. Hisself-satisfaction, however, has increased, and he has pleasantlyforgotten some things. For instance, he can now call out 'Porter' atrailway stations without dropping his hands for the barrow. MAGGIEintroduces the COMTESSE, and he is still undaunted. ]

JOHN. I remember you well--at Glasgow. 

COMTESSE. It must be quite two years ago, Mr. Shand. 

[JOHN has no objection to showing that he has had a classicaleducation. ]

JOHN. Tempus fugit, Comtesse. 

COMTESSE. I have not been much in this country since then, and Ireturn to find you a coming man. 

[Fortunately his learning is tempered with modesty. ]

JOHN. Oh, I don't know, I don't know. 

COMTESSE. The Ladies' Champion. 

[His modesty is tempered with a respect for truth. ]

JOHN. Well, well. 

COMTESSE. And you are about, as I understand, to introduce a bill togive women an equal right with men to grow beards [which is all sheknows about it. He takes the remark literally. ]

JOHN. There's nothing about beards in it, Comtesse. [She gives himtime to cogitate, and is pleased to note that there is no result. ]Have you typed my speech, Maggie?

MAGGIE. Yes; twenty-six pages. [She produces it from a drawer. ]

[Perhaps JOHN wishes to impress the visitor. ]

JOHN. I'm to give the ladies' committee a general idea of it. Justsee, Maggie, if I know the peroration. 'In conclusion, Mr. Speaker, these are the reasonable demands of every intelligent Englishwoman'--I had better say British woman--'and I am proud to nail them to myflag'---

[The visitor is properly impressed. ]

COMTESSE. Oho! defies his leaders!

JOHN. 'So long as I can do so without embarrassing the Government. '

COMTESSE. Ah, ah, Mr. Shand!

JOHN. 'I call upon the Front Bench, sir, loyally but firmly'--

COMTESSE. Firm again!

JOHN. --'either to accept my Bill, or to promise WITHOUT DELAY tobring in one of their own; and if they decline to do so I solemnlywarn them that though I will not press the matter to a division justnow'--

COMTESSE. Ahem!

JOHN. 'I will bring it forward again in the near future. ' And nowComtesse, you know that I'm not going to divide--and not another soulknows it. 

COMTESSE. I am indeed flattered by your confidence. 

JOHN. I've only told you because I don't care who knows now. 

COMTESSE. Oh!

[Somehow MAGGIE seems to be dissatisfied. ]

MAGGIE. But why is that, John?

JOHN. I daren't keep the Government in doubt any longer about what Imean to do. I'll show the whips the speech privately to-night. 

MAGGIE [who still wants to know]. But not to go to a division ishedging, isn't it? Is that strong?

JOHN. To make the speech at all, Maggie, is stronger than most woulddare. They would do for me if I went to a division. 

MAGGIE. Bark but not bite?

JOHN. Now, now, Maggie, you're out of your depth. 

MAGGIE. I suppose that's it. 

[The COMTESSE remains in the shallows. ]

COMTESSE. But what will the ladies say, Mr. Shand?

JOHN. They won't like it, Comtesse, but they've got to lump it. 

[Here the maid appears with a card for MAGGIE, who considers itquietly. ]

JOHN. Any one of importance?

MAGGIE. No. 

JOHN. Then I'm ready, Maggie. 

[This is evidently an intimation that she is to open the folding-doors, and he makes an effective entrance into the dining-room, histhumb in his waistcoat. There is a delicious clapping of hands fromthe committee, and the door closes. Not till then does MAGGIE, whohas grown thoughtful, tell her maid to admit the visitor. ]

COMTESSE. Another lady, Mrs. Shand?

MAGGIE. The card says 'Mr. Charles Venables. '

[The COMTESSE is really interested at last. ]

COMTESSE. Charles Venables! Do you know him?

MAGGIE. I think I call to mind meeting one of that name at theForeign Office party. 

COMTESSE. One of that name! He who is a Minister of your Cabinet. Butas you know him so little why should he call on you?

MAGGIE. I wonder. 

[MAGGIE's glance wanders to the drawer in which she has replacedJOHN's speech. ]

COMTESSE. Well, well, I shall take care of you, petite. 

MAGGIE. Do you know him?

COMTESSE. Do I know him! The last time I saw him he asked me to--to--hem!--ma cherie, it was thirty years ago. 

MAGGIE. Thirty years!

COMTESSE. I was a pretty woman then. I dare say I shall detest himnow; but if I find I do not--let us have a little plot--I shall dropthis book; and then perhaps you will be so charming as--as not to behere for a little while?

[MR. VENABLES, who enters, is such a courtly seigneur that he seemsto bring the eighteenth century with him; you feel that his sedanchair is at the door. He stoops over MAGGIE's plebeian hand. ]

VENABLES. I hope you will pardon my calling, Mrs. Shand; we had sucha pleasant talk the other evening. 

[MAGGIE, of course, is at once deceived by his gracious manner. ]

MAGGIE. I think it's kind of you. Do you know each other? TheComtesse de la Briere. 

[He repeats the name with some emotion, and the COMTESSE, halfmischievously, half sadly, holds a hand before her face. ]

VENABLES. Comtesse. 

COMTESSE. Thirty years, Mr. Venables. 

[He gallantly removes the hand that screens her face. ]

VENABLES. It does not seem so much. 

[She gives him a similar scrutiny. ]

COMTESSE. Mon Dieu, it seems all that. 

[They smile rather ruefully. MAGGIE like a kind hostess relieves thetension. ]

MAGGIE. The Comtesse has taken a cottage in Surrey for the summer. 

VENABLES. I am overjoyed. 

COMTESSE. No, Charles, you are not. You no longer care. Fickle one!And it is only thirty years. 

[He sinks into a chair beside her. ]

VENABLES. Those heavenly evenings, Comtesse, on the Bosphorus. 

COMTESSE. I refuse to talk of them. I hate you. 

[But she drops the book, and MAGGIE fades from the room. It is not avery clever departure, and the old diplomatist smiles. Then he sighsa beautiful sigh, for he does all things beautifully. ]

VENABLES. It is moonlight, Comtesse, on the Golden Horn. 

COMTESSE. Who are those two young things in a caique?

VENABLES. Is he the brave Leander, Comtesse, and is she Hero of theLamp?

COMTESSE. No, she is the foolish wife of the French Ambassador, andhe is a good-for-nothing British attache trying to get her husband'ssecrets out of her. 

VENABLES. Is it possible! They part at a certain garden gate. 

COMTESSE. Oh, Charles, Charles!

VENABLES. But you promised to come back; I waited there till dawn. Blanche, if you HAD come back--

COMTESSE. How is Mrs. Venables?

VENABLES. She is rather poorly. I think it's gout. 

COMTESSE. And you?

VENABLES. I creak a little in the mornings. 

COMTESSE. So do I. There is such a good man at Wiesbaden. 

VENABLES. The Homburg fellow is better. The way he patched me up lastsummer--Oh, Lord, Lord!

COMTESSE. Yes, Charles, the game is up; we are two old fogies. [Theygroan in unison; then she raps him sharply on the knuckles. ] Tell me, sir, what are you doing here?

VENABLES. Merely a friendly call. 

COMTESSE. I do not believe it. 

VENABLES. The same woman; the old delightful candour. 

COMTESSE. The same man; the old fibs. [She sees that the door isasking a question. ] Yes, come, Mrs. Shand, I have had quite enough ofhim; I warn you he is here for some crafty purpose. 

MAGGIE [drawing back timidly]. Surely not?

VENABLES. Really, Comtesse, you make conversation difficult. To showthat my intentions are innocent, Mrs. Shand, I propose that youchoose the subject. 

MAGGIE [relieved]. There, Comtesse. 

VENABLES. I hope your husband is well?

MAGGIE. Yes, thank you. [With a happy thought] I decide that we talkabout him. 

VENABLES. If you wish it. 

COMTESSE. Be careful; HE has chosen the subject. 

MAGGIE. _I_ chose it, didn't I?

VENABLES. You know you did. 

MAGGIE [appealingly]. You admire John?

VENABLES. Very much. But he puzzles me a little. You Scots, Mrs. Shand, are such a mixture of the practical and the emotional that youescape out of an Englishman's hand like a trout. 

MAGGIE [open-eyed]. Do we?

VENABLES. Well, not you, but your husband. I have known few men makea worse beginning in the House. He had the most atrocious bow-wowpublic-park manner---

COMTESSE. I remember that manner!

MAGGIE. No, he hadn't. 

VENABLES [soothingly]. At first. But by his second session he hadshed all that, and he is now a pleasure to listen to. By the way, Comtesse, have you found any dark intention in that?

COMTESSE. You wanted to know whether he talks over these matter withhis wife; and she has told you that he does not. 

MAGGIE [indignantly]. I haven't said a word about it, have I?

VENABLES. Not a word. Then, again, I admire him for his impromptuspeeches. 

MAGGIE. What is impromptu?

VENABLES. Unprepared. They have contained some grave blunders not somuch of judgment as of taste---

MAGGIE [hotly]. _I_ don't think so. 

VENABLES. Pardon me. But he has righted himself subsequently in theneatest way. I have always found that the man whose second thoughtsare good is worth watching. Well, Comtesse, I see you have somethingto say. 

COMTESSE. You are wondering whether she can tell you who gives himhis second thoughts. 

MAGGIE. Gives them to John? I would like to see anybody try to givethoughts to John. 

VENABLES. Quite so. 

COMTESSE. Is there anything more that has roused your admirationCharles?

VENABLES [purring]. Let me see. Yes, we are all much edified by hishumour. 

COMTESSE [surprised indeed]. His humour? That man!

MAGGIE [with hauteur]. Why not?

VENABLES. I assure you, Comtesse, some of the neat things in hisspeeches convulse the house. A word has even been coined for them--Shandisms. 

COMTESSE [slowly recovering from a blow]. Humour!

VENABLES. In conversation, I admit, he strikes one as being--ah--somewhat lacking in humour. 

COMTESSE [pouncing]. You are wondering who supplies his speeches withthe humour. 

MAGGIE. Supplies John?

VENABLES. Now that you mention it, some of his Shandisms do have acuriously feminine quality. 

COMTESSE. You have thought it might be a woman. 

VENABLES. Really, Comtesse--

COMTESSE. I see it all. Charles, you thought it might be the wife!

VENABLES [flinging up his hands]. I own up. 

MAGGIE [bewildered]. Me?

VENABLES. Forgive me, I see I was wrong. 

MAGGIE [alarmed]. Have I been doing John any harm?

VENABLES. On the contrary, I am relieved to know that there are nohairpins in his speeches. If he is at home, Mrs. Shand, may I seehim? I am going to be rather charming to him. 

MAGGIE [drawn in two directions]. Yes, he is--oh yes--but--

VENABLES. That is to say, Comtesse, if he proves himself the man Ibelieve him to be. 

[This arrests MAGGIE almost as she has reached the dining-room door. ]

MAGGIE [hesitating]. He is very busy just now. 

VENABLES [smiling]. I think he will see me. 

MAGGIE. Is it something about his speech?

VENABLES [the smile hardening]. Well, yes, it is. 

MAGGIE. Then I dare say I could tell you what you want to knowwithout troubling him, as I've been typing it. 

VENABLES [with a sigh]. I don't acquire information in that way. 

COMTESSE. I trust not. 

MAGGIE. There's no secret about it. He is to show it to the whipstonight. 

VENABLES [sharply]. You are sure of that?

COMTESSE. It is quite true, Charles. I heard him say so; and indeedhe repeated what he called the 'peroration' before me. 

MAGGIE. I know it by heart. [She plays a bold game. ] 'These are thedemands of all intelligent British women, and I am proud to nail themto my flag'--

COMTESSE. The very words, Mrs. Shand. 

MAGGIE [looking at her imploringly]. 'And I don't care how they mayembarrass the Government. ' [The COMTESSE is bereft of speech, sosuddenly has she been introduced to the real MAGGIE SHAND]. 'If theright honourable gentleman will give us his pledge to introduce asimilar Bill this session I will willingly withdraw mine; butotherwise I solemnly warn him that I will press the matter now to adivision. '

[She turns her face from the great man; she has gone white. ]

VENABLES [after a pause]. Capital. 

[The blood returns to MAGGIE's heart. ]

COMTESSE [who is beginning to enjoy herself very much]. Then you arepleased to know that he means to, as you say, go to a division?

VENABLES. Delighted. The courage of it will be the making of him. 

COMTESSE. I see. 

VENABLES. Had he been to hedge we should have known that he was apasteboard knight and have disregarded him. 

COMTESSE. I see. 

[She desires to catch the eye of MAGGIE, but it is carefully turnedfrom her. ]

VENABLES. Mrs. Shand, let us have him in at once. 

COMTESSE. Yes, yes, indeed. 

[MAGGIE's anxiety returns, but she has to call JOHN in. ]

JOHN [impressed]. Mr. Venables! This is an honour. 

VENABLES. How are you, Shand?

JOHN. Sit down, sit down. [Becoming himself again. ] I can guess whatyou have come about. 

VENABLES. Ah, you Scotsmen. 

JOHN. Of course I know I'm harassing the Government a good deal--

VENABLES [blandly]. Not at all, Shand. The Government are verypleased. 

JOHN. You don't expect me to believe that?

VENABLES. I called here to give you the proof of it. You may knowthat we are to have a big meeting at Leeds on the 24th, when twoMinisters are to speak. There is room for a third speaker, and I amauthorised to offer that place to you. 

JOHN. To me!

VENABLES. Yes. 

JOHN [swelling]. It would be--the Government taking me up. 

VENABLES. Don't make too much of it; it would be an acknowledgmentthat they look upon you as one of their likely young men. 

MAGGIE. John!

JOHN [not found wanting in a trying hour]. It's a bribe. You areoffering me this on condition that I don't make my speech. How canyou think so meanly of me as to believe that I would play the women'scause false for the sake of my own advancement. I refuse your bribe. 

VENABLES [liking him for the first time]. Good. But you are wrong. There are no conditions, and we want you to make your speech. Now doyou accept?

JOHN [still suspicious]. If you make me the same offer after you haveread it. I insist on your reading it first. 

VENABLES [sighing]. By all means. 

[MAGGIE is in an agony as she sees JOHN hand the speech to hisleader. On the other hand, the COMTESSE thrills. ]

But I assure you we look on the speech as a small matter. Theimportant thing is your intention of going to a division; and weagree to that also. 

JOHN [losing his head]. What's that?

VENABLES. Yes, we agree. 

JOHN. But--but--why, you have been threatening to excommunicate me ifI dared. 

VENABLES. All done to test you, Shand. 

JOHN. To test me?

VENABLES. We know that a division on your Bill can have no serioussignificance; we shall see to that. And so the test was to be whetheryou had the pluck to divide the House. Had you been intending to talkbig in this speech, and then hedge, through fear of the Government, they would have had no further use for you. 

JOHN [heavily]. I understand. [But there is one thing he cannotunderstand, which is, why VENABLES should be so sure that he is notto hedge. ]

VENABLES [turning over the pages carelessly]. Any of your good thingsin this, Shand?

JOHN [whose one desire is to get the pages back]. No, I--no--it isn'tnecessary you should read it now. 

VENABLES [from politeness only]. Merely for my own pleasure. I shalllook through it this evening. [He rolls up the speech to put it inhis pocket. JOHN turns despairingly to MAGGIE, though well aware thatno help can come from her. ]

MAGGIE. That's the only copy there is, John. [To VENABLES] Let memake a fresh one, and send it to you in an hour or two. 

VENABLES [good-naturedly]. I could not put you to that trouble, Mrs. Shand. I will take good care of it. 

MAGGIE. If anything were to happen to you on the way home, wouldn'twhatever is in your pocket be considered to be the property of yourheirs?

VENABLES [laughing]. Now there is forethought! Shand, I think thatafter that--! [He returns the speech to JOHN, whose hand swallows itgreedily. ] She is Scotch too, Comtesse. 

COMTESSE [delighted]. Yes, she is Scotch too. 

VENABLES. Though the only persons likely to do for me in the street, Shand, are your ladies' committee. Ever since they took the horse outof my brougham, I can scent them a mile away. 

COMTESSE. A mile? Charles, peep in there. 

[He softly turns the handle of the dining-room door, and realisesthat his scent is not so good as he had thought it. He bids hishostess and the COMTESSE good-bye in a burlesque whisper and tiptoesoff to safer places. JOHN having gone out with him, MAGGIE can nolonger avoid the COMTESSE's reproachful eye. That much injured ladyadvances upon her with accusing finger. ]

COMTESSE. So, madam!

[MAGGIE is prepared for her. ]

MAGGIE. I don't know what you mean. 

COMTESSE. Yes, you do. I mean that there IS some one who 'helps' ourMr. Shand. 

MAGGIE. There's not. 

COMTESSE. And it IS a woman, and it's you. 

MAGGIE. I help in the little things. 

COMTESSE. The little things! You are the Pin he picked up and that isto make his fortune. And now what I want to know is whether your Johnis aware that you help at all. 

[JOHN returns, and at once provides the answer. ]

JOHN. Maggie, Comtesse, I've done it again!

MAGGIE. I'm so glad, John. 

[The COMTESSE is in an ecstasy. ]

COMTESSE. And all because you were not to hedge, Mr. Shand. 

[His appeal to her with the wistfulness of a schoolboy makes himrather attractive. ]

JOHN. You won't tell on me, Comtesse! [He thinks it out. ] They hadjust guessed I would be firm because they know I'm a strong man. Youlittle saw, Maggie, what a good turn you were doing me when you saidyou wanted to make another copy of the speech. 

[She is dense. ]

MAGGIE. How, John?

JOHN. Because now I can alter the end. 

[She is enlightened. ]

MAGGIE. So you can!

JOHN. Here's another lucky thing, Maggie: I hadn't told the ladies'committee that I was to hedge, and so they need never know. Comtesse, I tell you there's a little cherub who sits up aloft and looks afterthe career of John Shand. 

[The COMTESSE looks not aloft but toward the chair at presentoccupied by MAGGIE. ]

COMTESSE. Where does she sit, Mr. Shand?

[He knows that women are not well read. ]

JOHN. It's just a figure of speech. 

[He returns airily to his committee room; and now again you may hearthe click of MAGGIE's needles. They no longer annoy the COMTESSE; sheis setting them to music. ]

COMTESSE. It is not down here she sits, Mrs. Shand, knitting astocking. 

MAGGIE. No, it isn't. 

COMTESSE. And when I came in I gave him credit for everything; evenfor the prettiness of the room!

MAGGIE. He has beautiful taste. 

COMTESSE. Good-bye, Scotchy. 

MAGGIE. Good-bye, Comtesse, and thank you for coming. 

COMTESSE. Good-bye--Miss Pin. 

[MAGGIE rings genteelly. ]

MAGGIE. Good-bye. 

[The COMTESSE is now lost in admiration of her. ]

COMTESSE. You divine little wife. He can't be worthy of it, no mancould be worthy of it. Why do you do it?

[MAGGIE shivers a little. ]

MAGGIE. He loves to think he does it all himself; that's the way ofmen. I'm six years older than he is. I'm plain, and I have no charm. I shouldn't have let him marry me. I'm trying to make up for it. 

[The COMTESSE kisses her and goes away. MAGGIE, somewhat foolishly, resumes her knitting. ]

[Some days later this same room is listening--with the sameinattention--to the outpouring of JOHN SHAND's love for the lady ofthe hiccoughs. We arrive--by arrangement--rather late; and thus wemiss some of the most delightful of the pangs. 

One can see that these two are playing no game, or, if they are, thatthey little know it. The wonders of the world [so strange are theinstruments chosen by Love] have been revealed to JOHN in hiccoughs;he shakes in SYBIL's presence; never were more swimming eyes; he whohas been of a wooden face till now, with ways to match, has gone onflame like a piece of paper; emotion is in flood in him. We may bealmost fond of JOHN for being so worshipful of love. Much has come tohim that we had almost despaired of his acquiring, including nearlyall the divine attributes except that sense of humour. The beautifulSYBIL has always possessed but little of it also, and what she hadhas been struck from her by Cupid's flail. Naked of the saving grace, they face each other in awful rapture. ]

JOHN. In a room, Sybil, I go to you as a cold man to a fire. You fillme like a peal of bells in an empty house. 

[She is being brutally treated by the dear impediment, for whichhiccough is such an inadequate name that even to spell it is anabomination though a sign of ability. How to describe a sound that isnoiseless? Let us put it thus, that when SYBIL wants to say somethingvery much there are little obstacles in her way; she falters, fallsperhaps once, and then is over, the while her appealing orbs beg younot to be angry with her. We may express those sweet pauses inprecious dots, which some clever person can afterwards stringtogether and make a pearl necklace of them. ]

SYBIL. I should not . .. Let you say it, . .. But . .. You . .. Say it sobeautifully. 

JOHN. You must have guessed. 

SYBIL. I dreamed . .. I feared . .. But you were . .. Scotch, and Ididn't know what to think. 

JOHN. Do you know what first attracted me to you, Sybil? It was yourinsolence. I thought, 'I'll break her insolence for her. '

SYBIL. And I thought. .. 'I'll break his str. .. Ength!'

JOHN. And now your cooing voice plays round me; the softness of you, Sybil, in your pretty clothes makes me think of young birds. [Theimpediment is now insurmountable; she has to swim for it, she swimstoward him. ] It is you who inspire my work. 

[He thrills to find that she can be touched without breaking. ]

SYBIL. I am so glad. .. So proud. .. 

JOHN. And others know it, Sybil, as well as I. Only yesterday theComtesse said to me, 'No man could get on so fast unaided. Cherchezla femme, Mr. Shand. '

SYBIL. Auntie said that?

JOHN. I said 'Find her yourself, Comtesse. '

SYBIL. And she?

JOHN. She said 'I have found her, ' and I said in my blunt way, 'Youmean Lady Sybil, ' and she went away laughing. 

SYBIL. Laughing?

JOHN. I seem to amuse the woman. 

[Sybil grows sad. ]

SYBIL. If Mrs. Shand--It is so cruel to her. Whom did you say she hadgone to the station to meet?

JOHN. Her father and brothers. 

SYBIL. It is so cruel to them. We must think no more of this. It ismad. .. Ness. 

JOHN. It's fate. Sybil, let us declare our love openly. 

SYBIL. You can't ask that, now in the first moment that you tell meof it. 

JOHN. The one thing I won't do even for you is to live a life ofunderhand. 

SYBIL. The. .. Blow to her. 

JOHN. Yes. But at least she has always known that I never loved her. 

SYBIL. It is asking me to give. .. Up everything, every one, for you. 

JOHN. It's too much. 

[JOHN is humble at last. ]

SYBIL. To a woman who truly loves, even that is not too much. Oh! itis not I who matter--it is you. 

JOHN. My dear, my dear. 

SYBIL. So gladly would I do it to save you; but, oh, if it were tobring you down!

JOHN. Nothing can keep me down if I have you to help me. 

SYBIL. I am dazed, John, I. .. 

JOHN. My love, my love. 

SYBIL. I. .. Oh. .. Here. .. 

JOHN. Be brave, Sybil, be brave. 

SYBIL. . .. .. .. .. . 

[In this bewilderment of pearls she melts into his arms. MAGGIEhappens to open the door just then; but neither fond heart hearsher. ]

JOHN. I can't walk along the streets, Sybil, without looking in allthe shop windows for what I think would become you best. [Asawkwardly as though his heart still beat against corduroy, he takesfrom his pocket a pendant and its chain. He is shy, and she dropspearls over the beauty of the ruby which is its only stone. ] It is adrop of my blood, Sybil. 

[Her lovely neck is outstretched, and he puts the chain round it. MAGGIE withdraws as silently as she had come; but perhaps the doorwhispered 'd--n' as it closed, for SYBIL wakes out of Paradise. ]

SYBIL. I thought---Did the door shut?

JOHN. It was shut already. 

[Perhaps it is only that SYBIL is bewildered to find herself onceagain in a world that has doors. ]

SYBIL. It seemed to me---

JOHN. There was nothing. But I think I hear voices; they may havearrived. 

[Some pretty instinct makes SYBIL go farther from him. MAGGIE kindlygives her time for this by speaking before opening the door. ]

MAGGIE. That will do perfectly, David. The maid knows where to putthem. [She comes in. ] They've come, John; they WOULD help with theluggage. [JOHN goes out. MAGGIE is agreeably surprised to find avisitor. ] How do you do, Lady Sybil? This is nice of you. 

SYBIL. I was so sorry not to find you in, Mrs. Shand. 

[The impediment has run away. It is only for those who love it. ]

MAGGIE. Thank you. You'll sit down?

SYBIL. I think not; your relatives---

MAGGIE. They will be so proud to see that you are my friend. 

[If MAGGIE were less simple her guest would feel more comfortable. She tries to make conversation. ]

SYBIL. It is their first visit to London?

[Instead of relieving her anxiety on this point, MAGGIE has a longlook at the gorgeous armful. ]

MAGGIE. I'm glad you are so beautiful, Lady Sybil. 

[The beautiful one is somehow not flattered. She pursues herinvestigations with growing uneasiness. ]

SYBIL. One of them is married now, isn't he? [Still there is noanswer; MAGGIE continues looking at her, and shivers slightly. ] Havethey travelled from Scotland to-day? Mrs. Shand, why do you look atme so? The door did open! [MAGGIE nods. ] What are you to do?

MAGGIE. That would be telling. Sit down, my pretty. 

[As SYBIL subsides into what the Wylies with one glance would callthe best chair, MAGGIE's men-folk are brought in by JOHN, allcarrying silk hats and looking very active after their long rest inthe train. They are gazing about them. They would like this lady, they would like JOHN, they would even like MAGGIE to go away for alittle and leave them to examine the room. Is that linen on thewalls, for instance, or just paper? Is the carpet as thick as itfeels, or is there brown paper beneath it? Had MAGGIE got anythingoff that bookcase on account of the worm-hole? DAVID even discoversthat we were simpletons when we said there was nothing in the roomthat pretended to be what it was not. He taps the marble mantelpiece, and is favourably impressed by the tinny sound. ]

DAVID. Very fine imitation. It's a capital house, Maggie. 

MAGGIE. I'm so glad you like it. Do you know one another? This is myfather and my brothers, Lady Sybil. 

[The lovely form inclines towards them. ALICK and DAVID remain firmon their legs, but JAMES totters. ]

JAMES. A ladyship! Well done, Maggie. 

ALICK [sharply]. James! I remember you, my lady. 

MAGGIE. Sit down, father. This is the study. 

[JAMES wanders round it inquisitively until called to order. ]

SYBIL. You must be tired after your long journey. 

DAVID [drawing the portraits of himself and partners in one lightningsketch]. Tired, your ladyship? We sat on cushioned seats the wholeway. 

JAMES [looking about him for the chair you sit on]. Every seat inthis room is cushioned. 

MAGGIE. You may say all my life is cushioned now, James, by this dearman of mine. 

[She gives JOHN'S shoulder a loving pressure, which SYBIL feels is atelegraphic communication to herself in a cypher that she cannotread. ALICK and the BROTHERS bask in the evidence of MAGGIE'shappiness. ]

JOHN [uncomfortably]. And is Elizabeth hearty, James?

JAMES [looking down his nose in the manner proper to young husbandswhen addressed about their wives]. She's very well, I thank youkindly. 

MAGGIE. James is a married man now, Lady Sybil. 

[SYBIL murmurs her congratulations. ]

JAMES. I thank you kindly. [Courageously] Yes, I'm married. [He looksat DAVID and ALICK to see if they are smiling; and they are. ] Itwasn't a case of being catched; it was entirely of my own free will. [He looks again; and the mean fellows are smiling still. ] Is yourladyship married?

SYBIL. Alas! no. 

DAVID. James! [Politely. ] You will be yet, my lady. 

[SYBIL indicates that he is kind indeed. ]

JOHN. Perhaps they would like you to show them their rooms, Maggie?

DAVID. Fine would we like to see all the house as well as thesleeping accommodation. But first--[He gives his father the look withwhich chairmen call on the next speaker. ]

ALICK. I take you, David. [He produces a paper parcel from a roomypocket. ] It wasn't likely, Mr. Shand, that we should forget the day. 

JOHN. The day?

DAVID. The second anniversary of your marriage. We came purposely forthe day. 

JAMES [his fingers itching to take the parcel from his father]. It'sa lace shawl, Maggie, from the three of us, a pure Tobermory; youwould never dare wear it if you knew the cost. 

[The shawl in its beauty is revealed, and MAGGIE hails it with littlecries of joy. She rushes at the donors and kisses each of them justas if she were a pretty woman. They are much pleased and giveexpression to their pleasure in a not very dissimilar manner. ]

ALICK. Havers. 

DAVID. Havers. 

JAMES. Havers. 

JOHN. It's a very fine shawl. 

[He should not have spoken, for he has set JAMES'S volatile mindworking. ]

JAMES. You may say so. What did you give her, Mr. Shand?

JOHN [suddenly deserted by God and man]. Me?

ALICK. Yes, yes, let's see it. 

JOHN. Oh--I--

[He is not deserted by MAGGIE, but she can think of no way out. ]

SYBIL [prompted by the impediment, which is in hiding, quite close]. Did he . .. Forget?

[There is more than a touch of malice in the question. It is achallenge, and the Wylies as a family are almost too quick to accepta challenge. ]

MAGGIE [lifting the gage of battle]. John forget? Never! It's apendant, father. 

[The impediment bolts. JOHN rises. ]

ALICK. A pendant? One of those things on a chain?

[He grins, remembering how once, about sixty years ago, he and a ladyand a pendant--but we have no time for this. ]

MAGGIE. Yes. 

DAVID [who has felt the note of antagonism and is troubled]. You wereslow in speaking of it, Mr. Shand. 

MAGGIE [This is her fight. ] He was shy, because he thought you mightblame him for extravagance. 

DAVID [relieved]. Oh, that's it. 

JAMES [licking his lips]. Let's see it. 

MAGGIE [a daughter of the devil]. Where did you put it, John?

[JOHN's mouth opens but has nothing to contribute. ]

SYBIL [the impediment has stolen back again]. Perhaps it has been . .. Mislaid. 

[The BROTHERS echo the word incredulously. ]

MAGGIE. Not it. I can't think where we laid it down, John. It's noton that table, is it, James? [The Wylies turn to look, and MAGGIE'shand goes out to LADY SYBIL: JOHN SHAND, witness. It is a verydetermined hand, and presently a pendant is placed in it. ] Here itis! [ALICK and the BROTHERS cluster round it, weigh it and appraiseit. ]

ALICK. Preserve me. Is that stone real, Mr. Shand?

JOHN [who has begun to look his grimmest]. Yes. 

MAGGIE [who is now ready, if he wishes it, to take him on too]. Johnsays it's a drop of his blood. 

JOHN [wishing it]. And so it is. 

DAVID. Well said, Mr. Shand. 

MAGGIE [scared]. And now, if you'll come with me, I think John hassomething he wants to talk over with Lady Sybil. [Recovering andtaking him on. ] Or would you prefer, John, to say it before us all?

SYBIL [gasping]. No!

JOHN [flinging back his head]. Yes, I prefer to say it before youall. 

MAGGIE [flinging back hers]. Then sit down again. 

[The WYLIES wonderingly obey. ]

SYBIL. Mr. Shand, Mr. Shand!--

JOHN. Maggie knows, and it was only for her I was troubled. Do youthink I'm afraid of them? [With mighty relief] Now we can be open. 

DAVID [lowering]. What is it? What's wrong, John Shand?

JOHN [facing him squarely]. It was to Lady Sybil I gave the pendant, and all my love with it. [Perhaps JAMES utters a cry, but the silenceof ALICK and DAVID is more terrible. ]

SYBIL [whose voice is smaller than we had thought]. What are you todo?

[It is to MAGGIE she is speaking. ]

DAVID. She'll leave it for us to do. 

JOHN. That's what I want. 

[The lords of creation look at the ladies. ]

MAGGIE [interpreting]. You and I are expected to retire, Lady Sybil, while the men decide our fate. [SYBIL is ready to obey the law, butMAGGIE remains seated. ] Man's the oak, woman's the ivy. Which of usis it that's to cling to you, John?

[With three stalwarts glaring at him, JOHN rather grandly takesSYBIL'S hand. They are two against the world. ]

SYBIL [a heroine]. I hesitated, but I am afraid no longer; whateverhe asks of me I will do. 

[Evidently the first thing he asks of her is to await him in thedining-room. ]

It will mean surrendering everything for him. I am glad it means allthat. [She passes into the dining-room looking as pretty as a kiss. ]

MAGGIE. So that settles it. 

ALICK. I'm thinking that doesn't settle it. 

DAVID. No, by God! [But his love for MAGGIE steadies him. There iseven a note of entreaty in his voice. ] Have you nothing to say toher, man?

JOHN. I have things to say to her, but not before you. 

DAVID [sternly]. Go away, Maggie. Leave him to us. 

JAMES [who thinks it is about time that he said something]. Yes, leave him to us. 

MAGGIE. No, David, I want to hear what is to become of me; I promisenot to take any side. 

[And sitting by the fire she resumes her knitting. The four regardher as on an evening at The Pans a good many years ago. ]

DAVID [barking]. How long has this been going on?

JOHN. If you mean how long has that lady been the apple of my eye, I'm not sure; but I never told her of it until today. 

MAGGIE [thoughtfully and without dropping a stitch]. I think itwasn't till about six months ago, John, that she began to be verydear to you. At first you liked to bring in her name when talking tome, so that I could tell you of any little things I might have heardshe was doing. But afterwards, as she became more and more to you, you avoided mentioning her name. 

JOHN [surprised]. Did you notice that?

MAGGIE [in her old-fashioned way]. Yes. 

JOHN. I tried to be done with it for your sake. I've often had a soreheart for you, Maggie. 

JAMES. You're proving it!

MAGGIE. Yes, James, he had. I've often seen him looking at me verysorrowfully of late because of what was in his mind; and many akindly little thing he has done for me that he didn't use to do. 

JOHN. You noticed that too!

MAGGIE. Yes. 

DAVID [controlling himself]. Well, we won't go into that; the thingto be thankful for is that it's ended. 

ALICK [who is looking very old]. Yes, yes, that's the great thing. 

JOHN. All useless, sir, it's not ended; it's to go on. 

DAVID. There's a devil in you, John Shand. 

JOHN [who is an unhappy man just now]. I dare say there is. But doyou think he had a walk over, Mr. David?

JAMES. Man, I could knock you down!

MAGGIE. There's not one of you could knock John down. 

DAVID [exasperated]. Quiet, Maggie. One would think you were takinghis part. 

MAGGIE. Do you expect me to desert him at the very moment that heneeds me most?

DAVID. It's him that's deserting you. 

JOHN. Yes, Maggie, that's what it is. 

ALICK. Where's your marriage vow? And your church attendances?

JAMES [with terrible irony]. And your prize for moral philosophy?

JOHN [recklessly]. All gone whistling down the wind. 

DAVID. I suppose you understand that you'll have to resign your seat. 

JOHN [his underlip much in evidence]. There are hundreds of seats, but there's only one John Shand. 

MAGGIE [but we don't hear her]. That's how I like to hear him speak. 

DAVID [the ablest person in the room]. Think, man, I'm old by you, and for long I've had a pride in you. It will be beginning the worldagain with more against you than there was eight years ago. 

JOHN. I have a better head to begin it with than I had eight yearsago. 

ALICK [hoping this will bite]. She'll have her own money, David!

JOHN. She's as poor as a mouse. 

JAMES [thinking possibly of his Elizabeth's mother]. We'll go to herfriends, and tell them all. They'll stop it. 

JOHN. She's of age. 

JAMES. They'll take her far away. 

JOHN. I'll follow, and tear her from them. 

ALICK. Your career---

JOHN [to his credit]. To hell with my career. Do you think I don'tknow I'm on the rocks? What can you, or you, or you, understand ofthe passions of a man! I've fought, and I've given in. When a shipfounders, as I suppose I'm foundering, it's not a thing to yelp at. Peace, all of you. [He strides into the dining-room, where we see himat times pacing the floor. ]

DAVID [to JAMES, who gives signs of a desire to take off his coat]. Let him be. We can't budge him. [With bitter wisdom] It's true whathe says, true at any rate about me. What do I know of the passions ofa man! I'm up against something I don't understand. 

ALICK. It's something wicked. 

DAVID. I dare say it is, but it's something big. 

JAMES. It's that damned charm. 

MAGGIE [still by the fire]. That's it. What was it that made youfancy Elizabeth, James?

JAMES [sheepishly]. I can scarcely say. 

MAGGIE. It was her charm. 

DAVID. HER charm!

JAMES [pugnaciously]. Yes, HER charm. 

MAGGIE. She had charm for James. 

[This somehow breaks them up. MAGGIE goes from one to another with anodd little smile flickering on her face. ]

DAVID. Put on your things, Maggie, and we'll leave his house. 

MAGGIE [patting his kind head]. Not me, David. 

[This is a MAGGIE they have known but forgotten; all three brighten. ]

DAVID. You haven't given in!

[The smile flickers and expires. ]

MAGGIE. I want you all to go upstairs, and let me have my try now. 

JAMES. Your try?

ALICK. Maggie, you put new life into me. 

JAMES. And into me. 

[DAVID says nothing; the way he grips her shoulder says it for him. ]

MAGGIE. I'll save him, David, if I can. 

DAVID. Does he deserve to be saved after the way he has treated you?

MAGGIE. You stupid David. What has that to do with it. 

[When they have gone, JOHN comes to the door of the dining-room. There is welling up in him a great pity for MAGGIE, but it has tosubside a little when he sees that the knitting is still in her hand. No man likes to be so soon supplanted. SYBIL follows, and the two ofthem gaze at the active needles. ]

MAGGIE [perceiving that she has visitors]. Come in, John. Sit down, Lady Sybil, and make yourself comfortable. I'm afraid we've put youabout. 

[She is, after all, only a few years older than they and scarcelylooks her age; yet it must have been in some such way as this thatthe little old woman who lived in a shoe addressed her numerousprogeny. ]

JOHN. I'm mortal sorry, Maggie. 

SYBIL [who would be more courageous if she could hold his hand]. AndI also. 

MAGGIE [soothingly]. I'm sure you are. But as it can't be helped Isee no reason why we three shouldn't talk the matter over in apractical way. 

[SYBIL looks doubtful, but JOHN hangs on desperately to the wordpractical. ]

JOHN. If you could understand, Maggie, what an inspiration she is tome and my work. 

SYBIL. Indeed, Mrs. Shand, I think of nothing else. 

MAGGIE. That's fine. That's as it should be. 

SYBIL [talking too much]. Mrs. Shand, I think you are very kind totake it so reasonably. 

MAGGIE. That's the Scotch way. When were you thinking of leaving me, John?

[Perhaps this is the Scotch way also; but SYBIL is English, and fromthe manner in which she starts you would say that something hasfallen on her toes. ]

JOHN [who has heard nothing fall]. I think, now that it has come to abreach, the sooner the better. [His tone becomes that of JAMES whenasked after the health of his wife. ] When it is convenient to you, Maggie. 

MAGGIE [making a rapid calculation]. It couldn't well be beforeWednesday. That's the day the laundry comes home. 

[SYBIL has to draw in her toes again. ]

JOHN. And it's the day the House rises. [Stifling a groan] It may bemy last appearance in the House. 

SYBIL [her arms yearning for him]. No, no, please don't say that. 

MAGGIE [surveying him sympathetically]. You love the House, don'tyou, John, next to her? It's a pity you can't wait till after yourspeech at Leeds. Mr. Venables won't let you speak at Leeds, I fear, if you leave me. 

JOHN. What a chance it would have been. But let it go. 

MAGGIE. The meeting is in less than a month. Could you not make itsuch a speech that they would be very loth to lose you?

JOHN [swelling]. That's what was in my mind. 

SYBIL [with noble confidence]. And he could have done it. 

MAGGIE. Then we've come to something practical. 

JOHN [exercising his imagination with powerful effect]. No, itwouldn't be fair to you if I was to stay on now. 

MAGGIE. Do you think I'll let myself be considered when your careeris at stake. A month will soon pass for me; I'll have a lot ofpacking to do. 

JOHN. It's noble of you, but I don't deserve it, and I can't take itfrom you. 

MAGGIE. Now's the time, Lady Sybil, for you to have one of yourinspiring ideas. 

SYBIL [ever ready]. Yes, yes--but what?

[It is odd that they should both turn to MAGGIE at this moment. ]

MAGGIE [who has already been saying it to herself]. What do you thinkof this: I can stay on here with my father and brothers; and you, John, can go away somewhere and devote yourself to your speech?

SYBIL. Yes. 

JOHN. That might be. [Considerately] Away from both of you. Wherecould I go?

SYBIL [ever ready]. Where?

MAGGIE. I know. 

[She has called up a number on the telephone before they have time tocheck her. ]

JOHN [on his dignity]. Don't be in such a hurry, Maggie. 

MAGGIE. Is this Lamb's Hotel? Put me on to the Comtesse de la Briere, please. 

SYBIL [with a sinking]. What do you want with Auntie?

MAGGIE. Her cottage in the country would be the very place. Sheinvited John and me. 

JOHN. Yes, but--

MAGGIE [arguing]. And Mr. Venables is to be there. Think of theimpression you could make on HIM, seeing him daily for three weeks. 

JOHN. There's something in that. 

MAGGIE. Is it you, Comtesse? I'm Maggie Shand. 

SYBIL. You are not to tell her that--?

MAGGIE. No. [To the COMTESSE] Oh, I'm very well, never was better. Yes, yes; you see I can't, because my folk have never been in Londonbefore, and I must take them about and show them the sights. But Johncould come to you alone; why not?

JOHN [with proper pride]. If she's not keen to have me, I won't go. 

MAGGIE. She's very keen. Comtesse, I could come for a day by and byto see how you are getting on. Yes--yes--certainly. [To JOHN] Shesays she'll be delighted. 

JOHN [thoughtfully]. You're not doing this, Maggie, thinking that mybeing absent from Sybil for a few weeks can make any difference? Ofcourse it's natural you should want us to keep apart, but--

MAGGIE [grimly]. I'm founding no hope on keeping you apart, John. 

JOHN. It's what other wives would do. 

MAGGIE. I promised to be different. 

JOHN [his position as a strong man assured]. Then tell her I accept. [He wanders back into the dining-room. ]

SYBIL. I think--[she is not sure what she thinks]--I think you arevery wonderful. 

MAGGIE. Was that John calling to you?

SYBIL. Was it? [She is glad to join him in the dining-room. ]

MAGGIE. Comtesse, hold the line a minute. [She is alone, and she hasnearly reached the end of her self-control. She shakes emotionallyand utters painful little cries; there is something she wants to do, and she is loth to do it. But she does it. ] Are you there, Comtesse?There's one other thing, dear Comtesse; I want you to invite LadySybil also; yes, for the whole time that John is there. No, I'm notmad; as a great favour to me; yes, I have a very particular reason, but I won't tell you what it is; oh, call me Scotchy as much as youlike, but consent; do, do, do. Thank you, thank you, good-bye. 

[She has control of herself now, and is determined not to let it slipfrom her again. When they reappear the stubborn one is writing aletter. ]

JOHN. I thought I heard the telephone again. 

MAGGIE [looking up from her labours]. It was the Comtesse; she saysshe's to invite Lady Sybil to the cottage at the same time. 

SYBIL. Me!

JOHN. To invite Sybil? Then of course I won't go, Maggie. 

MAGGIE [wondering seemingly at these niceties]. What does it matter?Is anything to be considered except the speech? [It has been admittedthat she was a little devil. ] And, with Sybil on the spot, John, tohelp you and inspire you, what a speech it will be!

JOHN [carried away]. Maggie, you really are a very generous woman. 

SYBIL [convinced at last]. She is indeed. 

JOHN. And you're queer too. How many women in the circumstances wouldsit down to write a letter?

MAGGIE. It's a letter to you, John. 

JOHN. To me?

MAGGIE. I'll give it to you when it's finished, but I ask you not toopen it till your visit to the Comtesse ends. 

JOHN. What is it about?

MAGGIE. It's practical. 

SYBIL [rather faintly]. Practical? [She has heard the word sofrequently to-day that it is beginning to have a Scotch sound. Shefeels she ought to like MAGGIE, but that she would like her better ifthey were farther apart. She indicates that the doctors are troubledabout her heart, and murmuring her adieux she goes. JOHN, who isaccompanying her, pauses at the door. ]

JOHN [with a queer sort of admiration for his wife]. Maggie, I wish Iwas fond of you. 

MAGGIE [heartily]. I wish you were, John. 

[He goes, and she resumes her letter. The stocking is lying at hand, and she pushes it to the floor. She is done for a time withknitting. ]

ACT IV

[Man's most pleasant invention is the lawn-mower. All the birds knowthis, and that is why, when it is at rest, there is always at leastone of them sitting on the handle with his head cocked, wondering howthe delicious whirring sound is made. When they find out, they willchange their note. As it is, you must sometimes have thought that youheard the mower very early in the morning, and perhaps you peeped inneglige from your lattice window to see who was up so early. It wasreally the birds trying to get the note. 

On this broiling morning, however, we are at noon, and whoever lookswill see that the whirring is done by Mr. Venables. He is in a linensuit with the coat discarded (the bird is sitting on it), and hecomes and goes across the Comtesse's lawns, pleasantly mopping hisface. We see him through a crooked bowed window generously open, roses intruding into it as if to prevent its ever being closed atnight; there are other roses in such armfuls on the tables that onecould not easily say where the room ends and the garden begins. 

In the Comtesse's pretty comic drawing-room (for she likes the comictouch when she is in England) sits John Shand with his hostess, onchairs at a great distance from each other. No linen garments forJohn, nor flannels, nor even knickerbockers; he envies the Englishway of dressing for trees and lawns, but is too Scotch to be able toimitate it; he wears tweeds, just as he would do in his nativecountry where they would be in kilts. Like many another Scot, thefirst time he ever saw a kilt was on a Sassenach; indeed kilts wereperhaps invented, like golf, to draw the English north. John is doingnothing, which again is not a Scotch accomplishment, and he looksrather miserable and dour. The Comtesse is already at her Patiencecards, and occasionally she smiles on him as if not displeased withhis long silence. At last she speaks:]

COMTESSE. I feel it rather a shame to detain you here on such alovely day, Mr. Shand, entertaining an old woman. 

JOHN. I don't pretend to think I'm entertaining you, Comtesse. 

COMTESSE. But you ARE, you know. 

JOHN. I would be pleased to be told how?

[She shrugs her impertinent shoulders, and presently there is anotherheavy sigh from JOHN. ]

COMTESSE. Again! Why do not you go out on the river?

JOHN. Yes, I can do that. [He rises. ]

COMTESSE. And take Sybil with you. [He sits again. ] No?

JOHN. I have been on the river with her twenty times. 

COMTESSE. Then take her for a long walk through the Fairloe woods. 

JOHN. We were there twice last week. 

COMTESSE. There is a romantically damp little arbour at the end ofwhat the villagers call the Lovers' Lane. 

JOHN. One can't go there every day. I see nothing to laugh at. 

COMTESSE. Did I laugh? I must have been translating the situationinto French. 

[Perhaps the music of the lawn-mower is not to JOHN's mood, for hebetakes himself to another room. MR. VENABLES pauses in his laboursto greet a lady who has appeared on the lawn, and who is MAGGIE. Sheis as neat as if she were one of the army of typists [who are quitethe nicest kind of women], and carries a little bag. She comes inthrough the window, and puts her hands over the COMTESSE's eyes. ]

COMTESSE. They are a strong pair of hands, at any rate. 

MAGGIE. And not very white, and biggish for my size. Now guess. 

[The COMTESSE guesses, and takes both the hands in hers as if shevalued them. She pulls off MAGGIE's hat as if to prevent her flyingaway. ]

COMTESSE. Dear abominable one, not to let me know you were coming. 

MAGGIE. It is just a surprise visit, Comtesse. I walked up from thestation. [For a moment MAGGIE seems to have borrowed SYBIL'Simpediment. ] How is--everybody?

COMTESSE. He is quite well. But, my child, he seems to me to be amost unhappy man. 

[This sad news does not seem to make a most unhappy woman of thechild. The COMTESSE is puzzled, as she knows nothing of the situationsave what she has discovered for herself. ]

Why should that please you, O heartless one?

MAGGIE. I won't tell you. 

COMTESSE. I could take you and shake you, Maggie. Here have I put myhouse at your disposal for so many days for some sly Scotch purpose, and you will not tell me what it is. 

MAGGIE. No. 

COMTESSE. Very well, then, but I have what you call a nasty one foryou. [The COMTESSE lures MR. VENABLES into the room by holding upwhat might be a foaming glass of lemon squash. ] Alas, Charles, it isbut a flower vase. I want you to tell Mrs. Shand what you think ofher husband's speech. 

[MR. VENABLES gives his hostess a reproachful look. ]

VENABLES. Eh--ah--Shand will prefer to do that himself. I promisedthe gardener--I must not disappoint him--excuse me--

COMTESSE. You must tell her, Charles. 

MAGGIE. Please, Mr. Venables, I should like to know. 

[He sits down with a sigh and obeys. ]

VENABLES. Your husband has been writing the speech here, and by hisown wish he read it to me three days ago. The occasion is to be animportant one; and, well, there are a dozen young men in the party atpresent, all capable of filling a certain small ministerial post. [Helooks longingly at the mower, but it sends no message to his aid. ]And as he is one of them I was anxious that he should show in thisspeech of what he is capable. 

MAGGIE. And hasn't he?

[Not for the first time MR. VENABLES wishes that he was not inpolitics. ]

VENABLES. I am afraid he has. 

COMTESSE. What is wrong with the speech, Charles?

VENABLES. Nothing--and he can still deliver it. It is a powerful, well-thought-out piece of work, such as only a very able man couldproduce. But it has no SPECIAL QUALITY of its own--none of the littletouches that used to make an old stager like myself want to pat Shandon the shoulder. [The COMTESSE's mouth twitches, but MAGGIE declinesto notice it. ] He pounds on manfully enough, but, if I may say so, with a wooden leg. It is as good, I dare say, as the rest of themcould have done; but they start with such inherited advantages, Mrs. Shand, that he had to do better. 

MAGGIE. Yes, I can understand that. 

VENABLES. I am sorry, Mrs. Shand, for he interested me. His careerhas set me wondering whether if _I_ had begun as a railway porter Imight not still be calling out, 'By your leave. '

[MAGGIE thinks it probable but not important]

MAGGIE. Mr. Venables, now that I think of it, surely John wrote to methat you were dissatisfied with his first speech, and that he waswriting another. 

[The COMTESSE's eyes open very wide indeed. ]

VENABLES. I have heard nothing of that, Mrs. Shand. [He shakes hiswise head. ] And in any case, I am afraid--[He still hears the woodenleg. ]

MAGGIE. But you said yourself that his second thoughts were sometimessuch an improvement on the first. 

[The COMTESSE comes to the help of the baggage. ]

COMTESSE. I remember you saying that, Charles. 

VENABLES. Yes, that has struck me. [Politely] Well, if he hasanything to show me--In the meantime--

[He regains the lawn, like one glad to escape attendance at JOHN'Sobsequies. The COMTESSE is brought back to speech by the sound of themower--nothing wooden in it. ]

COMTESSE. What are you up to now, Miss Pin? You know as well as I dothat there is no such speech. 

[MAGGIE's mouth tightens. ]

MAGGIE. I do not. 

COMTESSE. It is a duel, is it, my friend?

[The COMTESSE rings the bell and MAGGIE's guilty mind is agitated. ]

MAGGIE. What are you ringing for?

COMTESSE. As the challenged one, Miss Pin, I have the choice ofweapons. I am going to send for your husband to ask him if he haswritten such a speech. After which, I suppose, you will ask me toleave you while you and he write it together. 

[MAGGIE wrings her hands. ]

MAGGIE. You are wrong, Comtesse; but please don't do that. 

COMTESSE. You but make me more curious, and my doctor says that Imust be told everything. [The COMTESSE assumes the pose of her sex inmelodrama. ] Put your cards on the table, Maggie Shand, or--[Sheindicates that she always pinks her man. MAGGIE dolefully produces aroll of paper from her bag. ] What precisely is that?

[The reply is little more than a squeak. ]

MAGGIE. John's speech. 

COMTESSE. You have written it yourself!

[MAGGIE is naturally indignant. ]

MAGGIE. It's typed. 

COMTESSE. You guessed that the speech he wrote unaided would notsatisfy, and you prepared this to take its place!

MAGGIE. Not at all, Comtesse. It is the draft of his speech that heleft at home. That's all. 

COMTESSE. With a few trivial alterations by yourself, I swear. Canyou deny it?

[No wonder that MAGGIE is outraged. She replaces JOHN's speech in thebag with becoming hauteur. ]

MAGGIE. Comtesse, these insinuations are unworthy of you. May I askwhere is my husband?

[The COMTESSE drops her a curtsey. ]

COMTESSE. I believe your Haughtiness may find him in the Dutchgarden. Oh, I see through you. You are not to show him your speech. But you are to get him to write another one, and somehow all youradditions will be in it. Think not, creature, that you can deceiveone so old in iniquity as the Comtesse de la Briere. 

[There can be but one reply from a good wife to such a charge, and atonce the COMTESSE is left alone with her shame. Anon a footmanappears. You know how they come and go. ]

FOOTMAN. You rang, my lady?

COMTESSE. Did I? Ah, yes, but why? [He is but lately from theploughshare and cannot help her. In this quandary her eyes alightupon the bag. She is unfortunately too abandoned to feel her shame;she still thinks that she has the choice of weapons. She takes thespeech from the bag and bestows it on her servitor. ] Take this to Mr. Venables, please, and say it is from Mr. Shand. [THOMAS--but in theend we shall probably call him JOHN--departs with the dangerouspapers; and when MAGGIE returns she finds that the COMTESSE is oncemore engaged in her interrupted game of Patience. ] You did not findhim?

[All the bravery has dropped from MAGGIE's face. ]

MAGGIE. I didn't see him, but I heard him. SHE is with him. I thinkthey are coming here. 

[The COMTESSE is suddenly kind again. ]

COMTESSE. Sybil? Shall I get rid of her?

MAGGIE. No, I want her to be here, too. Now I shall know. 

[The COMTESSE twists the little thing round. ]

COMTESSE. Know what?

MAGGIE. As soon as I look into his face I shall know. 

[A delicious scent ushers in the fair SYBIL, who is as sweet as amilking stool. She greets MRS. SHAND with some alarm. ]

MAGGIE. How do you do, Lady Sybil? How pretty you look in that frock. [SYBIL rustles uncomfortably. ] You are a feast to the eye. 

SYBIL. Please, I wish you would not. 

[Shall we describe SYBIL'S frock, in which she looks like a greatstrawberry that knows it ought to be plucked; or would it be easierto watch the coming of JOHN? Let us watch JOHN. ]

JOHN. You, Maggie! You never wrote that you were coming. 

[No, let us watch MAGGIE. As soon as she looked into his face she wasto know something of importance. ]

MAGGIE [not dissatisfied with what she sees]. No, John, it's asurprise visit. I just ran down to say good-bye. 

[At this his face falls, which does not seem to pain her. ]

SYBIL [foreseeing another horrible Scotch scene]. To say good-bye?

COMTESSE [thrilling with expectation]. To whom, Maggie?

SYBIL [deserted by the impediment, which is probably playing withrough boys in the Lovers' Lane]. Auntie, do leave us, won't you?

COMTESSE. Not I. It is becoming far too interesting. 

MAGGIE. I suppose there's no reason the Comtesse shouldn't be told, as she will know so soon at any rate?

JOHN. That's so. [SYBIL sees with discomfort that he is to bepractical also. ]

MAGGIE. It's so simple. You see, Comtesse, John and Lady Sybil havefallen in love with one another, and they are to go off as soon asthe meeting at Leeds has taken place. 

[The COMTESSE's breast is too suddenly introduced to Caledonia andits varied charms. ]

COMTESSE. Mon Dieu!

MAGGIE. I think that's putting it correctly, John. 

JOHN. In a sense. But I'm not to attend the meeting at Leeds. Myspeech doesn't find favour. [With a strange humility] There'ssomething wrong with it. 

COMTESSE. I never expected to hear you say that, Mr. Shand. 

JOHN [wondering also]. I never expected it myself. I meant to make itthe speech of my career. But somehow my hand seems to have lost itscunning. 

COMTESSE. And you don't know how?

JOHN. It's inexplicable. My brain was never clearer. 

COMTESSE. You might have helped him, Sybil. 

SYBIL [quite sulkily]. I did. 

COMTESSE. But I thought she was such an inspiration to you, Mr. Shand. 

JOHN [going bravely to SYBIL'S side]. She slaved at it with me. 

COMTESSE. Strange. [Wickedly becoming practical also] So now there isnothing to detain you. Shall I send for a fly, Sybil?

SYBIL [with a cry of the heart]. Auntie, do leave us. 

COMTESSE. I can understand your impatience to be gone, Mr. Shand. 

JOHN [heavily]. I promised Maggie to wait till the 24th, and I'm aman of my word. 

MAGGIE. But I give you back your word, John. You can go now. 

[JOHN looks at SYBIL, and SYBIL looks at JOHN, and the impedimentarrives in time to take a peep at both of them. ]

SYBIL [groping for the practical, to which we must all come in theend]. He must make satisfactory arrangements about you first. Iinsist on that. 

MAGGIE [with no more imagination than a hen]. Thank you, Lady Sybil, but I have made all my arrangements. 

JOHN [stung]. Maggie, that was my part. 

MAGGIE. You see, my brothers feel they can't be away from theirbusiness any longer; and so, if it would be convenient to you, John, I could travel north with them by the night train on Wednesday. 

SYBIL. I--I----The way you put things---!

JOHN. This is just the 21st. 

MAGGIE. My things are all packed. I think you'll find the house ingood order, Lady Sybil. I have had the vacuum cleaners in. I'll giveyou the keys of the linen and the silver plate; I have them in thatbag. The carpet on the upper landing is a good deal frayed, but---

SYBIL. Please, I don't want to hear any more. 

MAGGIE. The ceiling of the dining-room would be the better of a newlick of paint---

SYBIL [stamping her foot, small fours]. Can't you stop her?

JOHN [soothingly]. She's meaning well. Maggie, I know it's natural toyou to value those things, because your outlook on life is bounded bythem; but all this jars on me. 

MAGGIE. Does it?

JOHN. Why should you be so ready to go?

MAGGIE. I promised not to stand in your way. 

JOHN [stoutly]. You needn't be in such a hurry. There are three daysto run yet. [The French are so different from us that we shallprobably never be able to understand why the COMTESSE laughed aloudhere. ] It's just a joke to the Comtesse. 

COMTESSE. It seems to be no joke to you, Mr. Shand. Sybil, my pet, are you to let him off?

SYBIL [flashing]. Let him off? If he wishes it. Do you?

JOHN [manfully]. I want it to go on. [Something seems to have caughtin his throat: perhaps it is the impediment trying a temporary home. ]It's the one wish of my heart. If you come with me, Sybil, I'll doall in a man's power to make you never regret it. 

[Triumph of the Vere de Veres. ]

MAGGIE [bringing them back to earth with a dump]. And I can make myarrangements for Wednesday?

SYBIL [seeking the COMTESSE's protection]. No, you can't. Auntie, Iam not going on with this. I'm very sorry for you, John, but I seenow--I couldn't face it---

[She can't face anything at this moment except the sofa pillows. ]

COMTESSE [noticing JOHN'S big sigh of relief]. So THAT is all right, Mr. Shand!

MAGGIE. Don't you love her any more, John? Be practical. 

SYBIL [to the pillows]. At any rate I have tired of him. Oh, best totell the horrid truth. I am ashamed of myself. I have been crying myeyes out over it--I thought I was such a different kind of woman. ButI am weary of him. I think him--oh, so dull. 

JOHN [his face lighting up]. Are you sure that is how you have cometo think of me?

SYBIL. I'm sorry; [with all her soul] but yes--yes--yes. 

JOHN. By God, it's more than I deserve. 

COMTESSE. Congratulations to you both. 

[SYBIL runs away; and in the fulness of time she married successfullyin cloth of silver, which was afterwards turned into a bed-spread. ]

MAGGIE. You haven't read my letter yet, John, have you?

JOHN. No. 

COMTESSE [imploringly]. May I know to what darling letter you refer?

MAGGIE. It's a letter I wrote to him before he left London. I gave itto him closed, not to be opened until his time here was ended. 

JOHN [as his hand strays to his pocket]. Am I to read it now?

MAGGIE. Not before her. Please go away, Comtesse. 

COMTESSE. Every word you say makes me more determined to remain. 

MAGGIE. It will hurt you, John. [Distressed] Don't read it; tear itup. 

JOHN. You make me very curious, Maggie. And yet I don't see what canbe in it. 

COMTESSE. But you feel a little nervous? Give ME the dagger. 

MAGGIE [quickly]. No. [But the COMTESSE has already got it. ]

COMTESSE. May I? [She must have thought they said Yes, for she opensthe letter. She shares its contents with them. ] 'Dearest John, It isat my request that the Comtesse is having Lady Sybil at the cottageat the same time as yourself. '

JOHN. What?

COMTESSE. Yes, she begged me to invite you together. 

JOHN. But why?

MAGGIE. I promised you not to behave as other wives would do. 

JOHN. It's not understandable. 

COMTESSE. 'You may ask why I do this, John, and my reason is, I thinkthat after a few weeks of Lady Sybil, every day, and all day, youwill become sick to death of her. I am also giving her the chance tohelp you and inspire you with your work, so that you may both learnwhat her help and her inspiration amount to. Of course, if your loveis the great strong passion you think it, then those weeks will makeyou love her more than ever and I can only say good-bye. But if, as Isuspect, you don't even now know what true love is, then by the nexttime we meet, dear John, you will have had enough of her. --Youraffectionate wife, Maggie. ' Oh, why was not Sybil present at thereading of the will! And now, if you two will kindly excuse me, Ithink I must go and get that poor sufferer the eau de Cologne. 

JOHN. It's almost enough to make a man lose faith in himself. 

COMTESSE. Oh, don't say that, Mr. Shand. 

MAGGIE [defending him]. You mustn't hurt him. If you haven't loveddeep and true, that's just because you have never met a woman yet, John, capable of inspiring it. 

COMTESSE [putting her hand on MAGGIE's shoulder]. Have you not, Mr. Shand?

JOHN. I see what you mean. But Maggie wouldn't think better of me forany false pretences. She knows my feelings for her now are neithermore nor less than what they have always been. 

MAGGIE [who sees that he is looking at her as solemnly as a volume ofsermons printed by request]. I think no one could be fond of me thatcan't laugh a little at me. 

JOHN. How could that help?

COMTESSE [exasperated]. Mr. Shand, I give you up. 

MAGGIE. I admire his honesty. 

COMTESSE. Oh, I give you up also. Arcades ambo. Scotchies both. 

JOHN [when she has gone]. But this letter, it's not like you. ByGosh, Maggie, you're no fool. 

[She beams at this, as any wife would. ]

But how could I have made such a mistake? It's not like a strong man. [Evidently he has an inspiration. ]

MAGGIE. What is it?

JOHN [the inspiration]. AM I a strong man?

MAGGIE. You? Of course you are. And self-made. Has anybody everhelped you in the smallest way?

JOHN [thinking it out again]. No, nobody. 

MAGGIE. Not even Lady Sybil?

JOHN. I'm beginning to doubt it. It's very curious, though, Maggie, that this speech should be disappointing. 

MAGGIE. It's just that Mr. Venables hasn't the brains to see how goodit is. 

JOHN. That must be it. [But he is too good a man to rest satisfiedwith this. ] No, Maggie, it's not. Somehow I seem to have lost my neatway of saying things. 

MAGGIE [almost cooing]. It will come back to you. 

JOHN [forlorn]. If you knew how I've tried. 

MAGGIE [cautiously]. Maybe if you were to try again; and I'll justcome and sit beside you, and knit. I think the click of the needlessometimes put you in the mood. 

JOHN. Hardly that; and yet many a Shandism have I knocked off whileyou were sitting beside me knitting. I suppose it was the quietness. 

MAGGIE. Very likely. 

JOHN [with another inspiration]. Maggie!

MAGGIE [again]. What is it, John?

JOHN. What if it was you that put those queer ideas into my head!

MAGGIE. Me?

JOHN. Without your knowing it, I mean. 

MAGGIE. But how?

JOHN. We used to talk bits over; and it may be that you dropped theseed, so to speak. 

MAGGIE. John, could it be this, that I sometimes had the idea in arough womanish sort of way and then you polished it up till it cameout a Shandism?

JOHN [slowly slapping his knee]. I believe you've hit it, Maggie: tothink that you may have been helping me all the time--and neither ofus knew it!

[He has so nearly reached a smile that no one can say what might havehappened within the next moment if the COMTESSE had not reappeared. ]

COMTESSE. Mr. Venables wishes to see you, Mr. Shand. 

JOHN [lost, stolen, or strayed a smile in the making]. Hum!

COMTESSE. He is coming now. 

JOHN [grumpy]. Indeed!

COMTESSE [sweetly]. It is about your speech. 

JOHN. He has said all he need say on that subject, and more. 

COMTESSE [quaking a little]. I think it is about the second speech. 

JOHN. What second speech?

[MAGGIE runs to her bag and opens it. ]

MAGGIE [horrified]. Comtesse, you have given it to him!

COMTESSE [impudently]. Wasn't I meant to?

JOHN. What is it? What second speech?

MAGGIE. Cruel, cruel. [Willing to go on her knees] You had left thefirst draft of your speech at home, John, and I brought it here with--with a few little things I've added myself. 

JOHN [a seven-footer]. What's that?

MAGGIE [four foot ten at most]. Just trifles--things I was to suggestto you--while I was knitting--and then, if you liked any of them youcould have polished them--and turned them into something good. John, John--and now she has shown it to Mr. Venables. 

JOHN [thundering]. As my work, Comtesse?

[But the COMTESSE is not of the women who are afraid of thunder. ]

MAGGIE. It is your work--nine-tenths of it. 

JOHN [in the black cap]. You presumed, Maggie Shand! Very well, then, here he comes, and now we'll see to what extent you've helped me. 

VENABLES. My dear fellow. My dear Shand, I congratulate you. Give meyour hand. 

JOHN. The speech?

VENABLES. You have improved it out of knowledge. It is the samespeech, but those new touches make all the difference. [JOHN sitsdown heavily. ] Mrs. Shand, be proud of him. 

MAGGIE. I am. I am, John. 

COMTESSE. You always said that his second thoughts were best, Charles. 

VENABLES [pleased to be reminded of it]. Didn't I, didn't I? Thosedelicious little touches! How good that is, Shand, about the flowingtide. 

COMTESSE. The flowing tide?

VENABLES. In the first speech it was something like this--'Gentlemen, the Opposition are calling to you to vote for them and the flowingtide, but I solemnly warn you to beware lest the flowing tide doesnot engulf you. ' The second way is much better. 

COMTESSE. What is the second way, Mr. Shand?

[JOHN does not tell her. ]

VENABLES. This is how he puts it now. [JOHN cannot help raising hishead to listen. ] 'Gentlemen, the Opposition are calling to you tovote for them and the flowing tide, but I ask you cheerfully to votefor us and DAM the flowing tide. '

[VENABLES and his old friend the COMTESSE laugh heartily, but fordifferent reasons. ]

COMTESSE. It IS better, Mr. Shand. 

MAGGIE. _I_ don't think so. 

VENABLES. Yes, yes, it's so virile. Excuse me, Comtesse, I'm off toread the whole thing again. [For the first time he notices that JOHNis strangely quiet. ] I think this has rather bowled you over, Shand. 

[JOHN's head sinks lower. ]

Well, well, good news doesn't kill. 

MAGGIE [counsel for the defence]. Surely the important thing aboutthe speech is its strength and knowledge and eloquence, the thingsthat were in the first speech as well as in the second. 

VENABLES. That of course is largely true. The wit would not be enoughwithout them, just as they were not enough without the wit. It is thecombination that is irresistible. [JOHN's head rises a little. ]Shand, you are our man, remember that, it is emphatically the bestthing you have ever done. How this will go down at Leeds!

[He returns gaily to his hammock; but lower sinks JOHN'S head, andeven the COMTESSE has the grace to take herself off. MAGGIE's armsflutter near her husband, not daring to alight. ]

MAGGIE. You heard what he said, John. It's the combination. Is it soterrible to you to find that my love for you had made me able to helpyou in the little things?

JOHN. The little things! It seems strange to me to hear you call meby my name, Maggie. It's as if I looked on you for the first time. 

MAGGIE. Look at me, John, for the first time. What do you see?

JOHN. I see a woman who has brought her husband low. 

MAGGIE. Only that?

JOHN. I see the tragedy of a man who has found himself out. Eh, Ican't live with you again, Maggie. 

[He shivers. ]

MAGGIE. Why did you shiver, John?

JOHN. It was at myself for saying that I couldn't live with youagain, when I should have been wondering how for so long you havelived with me. And I suppose you have forgiven me all the time. [Shenods. ] And forgive me still? [She nods again. ] Dear God!

MAGGIE. John, am I to go? or are you to keep me on? [She is now alittle bundle near his feet. ] I'm willing to stay because I'm usefulto you, if it can't be for a better reason. [His hand feels for her, and the bundle wriggles nearer. ] It's nothing unusual I've done, John. Every man who is high up loves to think that he has done it allhimself; and the wife smiles, and lets it go at that. It's our onlyjoke. Every woman knows that. [He stares at her in hopelessperplexity. ] Oh, John, if only you could laugh at me. 

JOHN. I can't laugh, Maggie. 

[But as he continues to stare at her a strange disorder appears inhis face. MAGGIE feels that it is to be now or never. ]

MAGGIE. Laugh, John, laugh. Watch me; see how easy it is. 

[A terrible struggle is taking place within him. He creaks. Somethingthat may be mirth forces a passage, at first painfully, no more joyin it than in the discoloured water from a spring that has long beendry. Soon, however, he laughs loud and long. The spring water isbecoming clear. MAGGIE claps her hands. He is saved. ]