[Drawing up her dress an inch or two higher.

Harry. I daresay. [Turning away.] I'm not going to admire your stockings, or your ostrich ruffles, or your blue silk garters, or your motifs, or anything that is yours! It's too expensive!

Dolly. [Dress an inch higher, looking down at her stockings.] It's the clocks you have to pay for——

Harry. I beg your pardon, it's the clocks I haven't got to pay for! And don't mean to—if I can help it. Idiotic thing to go and put clocks on stockings—[muttering] damned silly idiotic——

Dolly. Ah! [Goes to table, brings the hospital box and puts it in front of him.] Double fine this time.

Harry. What for?

Dolly. Naughty swear word, and getting out of temper.

Harry. Oh well—[fumbling in his pocket] I did say d——, but I didn't get out of temper!

Dolly. You didn't get out of temper?!?

Harry. Not at all. I'm quite calm. [Sulkily puts a shilling in the box.] There! [Seats himself at table.] Now we'll go quietly and methodically through the remainder—— [Taking up a bill, looks at it, exclaims.] Good heavens!

Dolly. Good heavens what?

Harry. [In a low exhausted tone with groans.] Good heavens! Good heavens! It's absolutely useless—Good heavens!

Dolly. But what is it? [Coming up, looking over.

Harry. [Points to bill.] Four more hats! Nine on the other bill—four more here. Thirteen hats.

Dolly. No, one was a toque.

Harry. But can you explain?

Dolly. Yes. You said yourself that Madame Recamier was horribly expensive, so I left her and went to Jacquelin's—just to save your pocket——

Harry. Never save my pocket again, please.

Dolly. Very well, I won't.

Harry. No, I daresay you won't, but I shall! I shall draw the strings very tightly in future. Save my pocket! [He is walking about distractedly.] Save my pocket. [Groans.

Dolly. Now, Harry, it's useless to take it in this way—you knew when you married me I hadn't got the money sense——

Harry. [Groans.] I hadn't got any sense at all!

Dolly. Very likely not. But try and have a little now. What have I done? Run a little into debt, solely to please you.

Harry. Yes; well, now run out of it, and I shall be better pleased still.

Dolly. After all, running into debt is a positive virtue beside the things that some wives do!

Harry. Oh, it's a positive virtue, is it?

Dolly. A husband is very lucky when his wife spends most of her time running up a few bills. It keeps her out of mischief. I'm sure you ought to feel very glad that I'm a little extravagant!

Harry. Oh, I am! I am! I'm delighted!

[He sits at table, takes out a pencil, hurriedly puts down the amounts of the various bills—she creeps up behind him.

Dolly. What are you doing?

Harry. I'm totting up to see how lucky I am! Forty-one, one, six—— [Groans.] Ninety-four—— [Groans.

Dolly. [Has crept up behind him, puts her arms round his neck.] Now, Harry, will you take my advice——?

Harry. No.

Dolly. It's past eleven.

[Trying to take the pencil out of his hand.

Harry. [Disengaging her arms, speaking very sternly.] Will you have the goodness to let me have all your bills, so that I may know what help I shall need from my banker?

Dolly. Harry, you don't mean that? Oh, that's absurd with our income!

Harry. Will you have the goodness to do as I say, and at once, please? [He is dotting down figures. She stands still in the middle of the room.] Did you hear me?

[She bursts into tears. He turns round and shows symptoms of relenting towards her, but steels himself and turns to the bills. She bursts into renewed tears. He goes on figuring.

Dolly. [Piteously.] Harry! Harry! [Goes up to him and plucks his sleeve.] Harry!

Harry. Well?

[He turns and looks at her, is about to yield, but resists, turns away from her, settles resolutely to his figures.

Dolly. And on the first night of the New Year, too! Just as we were going to be so happy! Harry! [Holds out her arms appealingly.] Harry! [HARRY suddenly turns round and clasps her.] How could you be so unkind to me?

Harry. Was I? I didn't mean to be. Now! Dry your tears, and help me reckon this up——

Dolly. Ye-es.

Harry. But first of all let me have the remainder of the bills——

Dolly. Yes.

Harry. At once, my darling—it's getting late.

Dolly. Yes. [Goes up to desk.] You won't reproach me?

Harry. Of course I won't.

Dolly. I can bear anything except your reproaches. Promise you won't reproach me.

Harry. I won't, unless——

Dolly. Unless what?

Harry. It's something too awful.

Dolly. Oh, it isn't. Not at all. Not at all. [Goes up to the desk, brings down about ten more bills with great affected cheerfulness.] There! You see, it's nothing.

Harry. [Hastily looking at the totals.] Nothing? You call these nothing!!?

Dolly. Nothing to speak about—nothing awful!

Harry. Good heavens! How any woman with the least care for her husband, or her home—— [looking at one total after another] how any woman with the least self-respect—— [DOLLY goes to him, puts her arms round him, tries to embrace—he repulses her.] No, please. I've had enough of that old dodge.

Dolly. Dodge!

Harry. I remember that last two hundred pounds and how you sweedled me out of it!

Dolly. Sweedled?

Harry. Yes! Sweedled!

Dolly. There's no such word!

Harry. No, but there's the thing! As most husbands know. [Referring to one bill after another, picking out items.] Lace coat, hand-made! En-tout-cas, studded cabochons of lapis lazuli—studded cabochons—studded cabochons!

Dolly. [Has quietly seated herself, and is looking at the ceiling.] Couldn't you manage to pitch your voice in rather a softer key?

Harry. [Comes angrily down to her, bills in hand, speaks in a whisper, very rapidly and fiercely.] Yes! And I say that a woman who goes and runs up bills like these, [dashing the back of one hand against the bills in the other] while her husband is smoking threepenny cigars, will very soon bring herself and him to one of those new palatial workhouses where, thank heaven, the cuisine and appointments are now organized with a view of providing persons of your tastes with every luxury at the ratepayers' expense. [Returns angrily to the bills, turns them over.] Irish lace bolero! [Turns to another.] Fur motor coat, fifty-five guineas——

Dolly. [Calmly gazing at the ceiling.] You told me to look as smart as Mrs. Colefield.

Harry. Not at that price! If I'd known what that motor tour would cost by Jove! I'd——

Dolly. You're getting noisy again. You'll wake my father.

Harry. He ought to be waked! He ought to know what his daughter is saddling me with.

Dolly. Very well, if you don't care how shabby I look——

Harry. Shabby! [Referring to bills.] Lace demi-toilette! Point de Venise lace Directoire coat! Shabby?

Dolly. My dear Harry, do you suppose we shall ever agree as to what constitutes shabbiness?

Harry. No, I'm hanged if we ever shall!

Dolly. Then suppose we drop the subject. For the future I shall endeavor to please you entirely.

Harry. Oh, you will?

Dolly. By dressing so that you'll be ashamed to be seen in the same street with me. I shall make myself a perfect fright—a perfect dowdy—a perfect draggletail!

Harry. Then I shall not be seen in the same street with you.

Dolly. You won't?

Harry. No, my dear. Make no mistake about that!

Dolly. You'll be seen with somebody else, perhaps?

Harry. Very likely.

Dolly. Have you met Miss Smithson again?

Harry. Not since the last time.

Dolly. Have you seen her since we were at Folkestone?

Harry. What's that to do with your bills?

Dolly. A great deal. That night at dinner she told you her dress allowance was a hundred and twenty a year, and you said you wished she'd give me a few lessons in economy.

Harry. I did not.

Dolly. Pardon me, you did!

Harry. Pardon me, I did not. I said she might give some women a lesson in economy.

Dolly. You did not! I heard every word of your conversation, and you distinctly asked her to give me, your wife, a few lessons in economy.

Harry. I'll swear I didn't!

Dolly. Ask my father! He was there.

Harry. Very well! I'll ask him the first thing in the morning.

Dolly. No, to-night! You've accused me of deliberately saying what isn't true, and I——

Harry. I have not!

Dolly. Yes, you have. And I insist on having it cleared up to-night! I don't suppose he's asleep! Fetch him down!

Harry. Very well! I will fetch him down! [Exit.

Dolly. [Paces furiously up and down.] Me! Lessons in economy! Lessons in economy! Me! Lessons in economy!

Re-enter HARRY.

Harry. He'll be down in a minute! Meantime, [very angry] I want to know what any woman in this world wants with two dozen cache corsets?

[Banging his free hand on the bills.

Dolly. We'll clear up Miss Smithson first——

Harry. No, we will not clear up Miss Smithson——

Dolly. Because you can't clear up Miss Smithson——

Harry. I can clear up Miss Smithson——

Dolly. You cannot clear up Miss Smithson——

MATT appears at door in dressing-gown, rubbing his eyes and looking very sleepy.

Dad, you remember Miss Smithson——

Matt. [Coming in, very sleepy.] Smithson?

Dolly. The girl at the hotel at Folkestone, that Harry paid so much attention to.

Harry. I paid no more attention to Miss Smithson than was absolutely necessary. Did I, Mr. Barron?

Dolly. Oh! Oh! Dad, you remember——

Matt. Not for the moment——

Dolly. Not the disgraceful way Harry—there's no other word—carried on!

Harry. I did not carry on—Mr. Barron, I appeal to you.

Dolly. Dad!

Matt. My dear, I certainly did not notice——

Dolly. No, he was far too careful to let anyone notice it, except his own wife!

Harry. You lay your life when I do carry on my wife will be the last person I shall allow to notice it!

Dolly. I daresay! Dad, did you hear that?

Matt. Yes. [Rousing himself a little.] Now, Harry, what about this Miss Smithson?

Harry. That's what I want to know!

Matt. Who is Miss Smithson?

Dolly. Surely you remember that lanky girl——

Harry. Miss Smithson is not lanky——

Dolly. Not lanky? Not lanky?! You can't have any eyes——!

Harry. That's what I've often thought——

Dolly. [Explodes.] Oh! Oh! Dad!

Matt. Come, Harry, let's clear this up. [Suddenly.] Smithson? Oh yes! The girl who sat on your left at your dinner party——

Dolly. That's the one!

Matt. I should call her a trifle lanky, Harry.

Dolly. A trifle? Well, never mind! You remember that dinner party——

Matt. [Cautiously.] Ye-es.

Dolly. You remember how she waited for a lull in the talk, and then she said with that silly, simpering, appealing look——

Harry. Miss Smithson's look is not silly or simpering.

Dolly. Well, it's appealing, isn't it?

Harry. [With a little chuckle.] Oh, yes, it's appealing.

Dolly. [Enraged.] Oh! Dad!

Matt. [Quiets her.] Shush!—What did she say?

Dolly. She said with a very marked glance at me, "My dress allowance is a hundred and twenty a year, and I don't understand how any reasonable woman can wish for more!" What do you think of that?

Matt. Well, if she did say that, and if she glanced at you, it——

Dolly. Yes?

Matt. It wasn't very nice of her.

Dolly. Nice? It was an insult! A direct, intentional, abominable insult, wasn't it?

Matt. Yes, yes, decidedly, under the circumstances——

Dolly. And Harry ought to have resented it?

Matt. At his own dinner table he couldn't, could he?

Dolly. Yes! At least, if he couldn't resent it, he ought to have shown that he resented it. Instead of that, he actually asked her to give me a few lessons in economy!

Harry. I did not!

Dolly. Pardon me, you did! Me! his wife! Lessons in economy!

Harry. And a thundering good thing if she had given you a few before you ran up these bills!

[Dashes his hand on to the bills.

Dolly. There! You hear?!

Matt. Come, Harry, you oughtn't to have asked another woman to give your wife lessons in economy.

Harry. I didn't!

Dolly. Dad! You were there——

Matt. Yes, but I don't quite remember——

Dolly. You don't remember?! Surely you can remember a simple thing like that when your own daughter tells you it was so!

Matt. Now, Harry, what did you really say to Miss Smithson?

Harry. I said she might give some women a lesson in economy.

Matt. Not meaning Dolly?

[Giving him a wink to say "No."

Harry. No-o.

Dolly. Then whom did he mean? Lessons in economy? Whom could he mean if he didn't mean me?

Harry. Just so!

Dolly. Ah! There! You see, he owns it!

Matt. No, no, I'm sure he doesn't mean it! Did you, Harry?

[Winking at HARRY.

Dolly. Then will he please say what he really does mean?

Matt. Now, Harry, what do you really mean?

Harry. Well, you remember that night of the dinner party at Folkestone.

Matt. [Cautiously.] Ye-es.

Harry. After they'd all gone you and I went into the smoking-room, didn't we?

Matt. [Cautiously.] Ye-es.

Harry. And you said, "Doll's in one of her high gales again!"

Dolly. High gales?! [Indignant.] Father! You didn't say that?

Matt. No, no, my dear——

Harry. Excuse me, those were your exact words. High gales!

Matt. I don't remember.

Dolly. No, you don't remember anything.

Harry. You said, "What on earth was up between her and Miss Smithson at dinner?"

Dolly. You see! That proves exactly what I said!

Harry. No, by Jove, it proves that your father noticed what a confounded, cussed——

Dolly. Go on! Go on! Say it!

Matt. Shush! Shush! Well, Harry, what did you say?

Harry. Well, not wishing to give Dolly away——

Dolly. Ha! ha! Not wishing to give me away!

Harry. Not then! But, by Jove, if any decent chap were to come along now——

Dolly. [Exploding.] There! There! [To MATT.] And you sit there and hear my own husband insult me in my own house!

Matt. No! No!

Dolly. But there you sit! There you sit!

Matt. [Jumps up fiercely.] Now, Harry!

Harry. [Fiercely.] Well, now, Mr. Barron——

Dolly. Why don't you defend me? Why don't you demand an apology?

Matt. What for?

Dolly. For everything! For to-night! For that night at Folkestone!

Harry. That night at Folkestone! Why, your father was quite on my side——

Matt. What?

Dolly. He wasn't; were you, Dad?

Matt. No—no.

Harry. What? [Fiercely.] Do you remember exactly what passed between us in the smoking-room, Mr. Barron?

Matt. No.

Harry. Then I'll tell you——

Matt. [Retreating towards door.] No—no—I don't want to know——

Harry. [Following him up, shouting a little.] You said, "I know what she's like in her high gales! I remember what the little devil was like at home."

Dolly. [Pursuing him up to door.] Father! You didn't say that!

Matt. No—no, my darling—quite a mistake—quite a mistake—altogether a mistake.

[Gets thankfully off at back.

Dolly. [Calls after him.] Then why don't you stay and tell him so!

Harry. [Shouts after MATT.] It's not a mistake!

Dolly. [Calls after MATT.] It's cowardly of you to leave me here to be insulted.

Harry. [Goes up to door, shouts.] It's not a mistake! You patted me on the back and said, "Poor chap! Poor chap!" You know you did! [Closes the door, comes fiercely down to DOLLY.] It's not a mistake! He could see you had insulted Miss Smithson.

Dolly. I had not insulted her! I was far too civil to her, considering that the next evening you took her out on the Leas, when you ought to have been at billiards——

Harry. I took her out on the Leas!

Dolly. Yes! You weren't in the billiard-room! So where were you? Where were you?

Harry. I jolly well don't know, and I—I——

Dolly. Say it! Say it!

Harry. I damned well don't care!

Dolly. Ah!

[She seizes the box, brings it up to him, puts it irritatingly in front of him; he seizes it, they struggle for it, trying to take it out of each other's hands; she screams, he tries to get it; there is a scuffle round the room; he tries to rub her knuckles; she makes a little feint to bite him; in the struggle the box drops on the floor a little below the table, right.

Dolly. Jobling! Jobling! Jobling!

Harry. Now, madam, for the last time, have I all your bills?

Dolly. Jobling! Jobling! Jobling!

Harry. Have I all your bills?

Dolly. Jobling! Jobling! Jobling!

Harry. Once more, madam, have I all your bills?

Dolly. No, you haven't!

Harry. Then please hand them over to me this instant, so that I may take proceedings.

Dolly. [Laughing.] Proceedings! Ha! Take your proceedings!

Harry. By Jove! I will take proceedings.

Dolly. Take them! Take them!

Harry. [Walking about furiously with the bills.] So this is the way the money goes! [Banging the bills.] While I have to smoke twopenny cigars! And can't get a decent dinner!

Dolly. You can't get a decent dinner?

Harry. No! Look at those messes last night. They weren't fit for a cook-shop.

Dolly. Oh! Oh! Oh! Get a housekeeper! Get a housekeeper!

Harry. By Jove! that's what I mean to do!

Dolly. Have Miss Smithson! Send for her to-morrow morning! I'll hand her over the keys!

Harry. [Shouting.] And please hand me over the rest of your bills! The rest of your bills, madam!

[DOLLY marches up to the desk.

MATT appears at door in dressing-gown.

Matt. I can't get a wink of sleep——

[DOLLY takes out about twenty more bills.

Harry. I insist on seeing the whole lot! So there!

Dolly. [Flourishing the bills, strewing them on the floor.] Well there! And there! And there! And there! Now you've got the whole lot! And I hope you're satisfied. I'm going into Renie's room! [Exit.

Harry. I insist on your going through these bills——

[Following her off. Their voices are heard retreating upstairs, DOLLY saying, "go through the bills! Send for Miss Smithson! Have her here to-morrow morning! Take your proceedings," HARRY saying, "I insist on going through the bills to-night! Do you hear, madam, I insist! Will you come down and go through these bills," etc.

Matt. [Listens, as their voices die away. When the voices have ceased, he surveys the scene.] We're making a splendid start for the New Year!

[Sees the box on the floor, picks it up, carefully places it on table and goes off.

CURTAIN.



(A year passes between Acts III and IV.)

ACT IV.

SCENE: The same.

TIME: Afternoon of January 1st, 1908.

Enter LUCAS, followed by CRIDDLE. LUCAS has his left collar-bone broken, and his arm is strapped across his breast; his coat is buttoned loosely over the arm, the left sleeve hanging down.

Lucas. They've gone to meet me?

Criddle. Yes, sir.

Lucas. By the road?

Criddle. Yes, sir.

Lucas. That's how I've missed them. My car broke down the other side of the clump, and so I walked over the fields.

Criddle. Yes, sir. I beg pardon, I hope the arm isn't serious.

Lucas. No, Criddle. Just serious enough to get me a couple of months' leave, so that I could spend the New Year in England.

Criddle. You had it very hot in India, I suppose, sir?

Lucas. Blazing!

Criddle. We've got the same old weather here, you see, sir.

Lucas. Same old weather! Had any visitors for Christmas, Criddle?

Criddle. Mr. Barron, of course, and Professor and Mrs. Sturgess.

Lucas. Same old visitors—same visitors, I should say. Mr. Pilcher still Vicar here, I suppose?

Criddle. Yes, sir. He gave us a wonderful sermon at the old year's service last night.

Lucas. Same old sermon!

Criddle. No, sir. Not exactly the same sermon, though it had similar points to last year. Ah! You came over for the old year's service last year?

Lucas. Yes, and a rattling good sermon it was!

Criddle. Very powerful and persuading, wasn't it, sir? It even touched me up a bit.

Lucas. In what way, Criddle?

Criddle. I used to have my ten bob on any horse as I fancied, but I never put a farthing on anything—not even on Sulky Susan for the Oaks.

Lucas. You didn't?

Criddle. No, and thank God, in a manner of speaking, that I didn't, for she never pulled it off. I owe that to Mr. Pilcher. No, I never touched a thing till the Leger. That reminds me——

Lucas. What, Criddle?

Criddle. Why, last year, after Mr. Pilcher's sermon, the master had a collecting box, and when he found himself going a bit off the straight he used to put in a shilling or half-a-crown for Mr. Pilcher's blanket fund——

Lucas. Yes, of course! And Uncle Matt promised him a sovereign for each of us if we had carried out our good resolutions. Is that coming off, Criddle?

Criddle. I expect it is, sir. Mr. Pilcher is coming here this afternoon, and the master told me to be sure and find the box before he gets here.

Lucas. Find the box?

Criddle. Nobody has seen anything of it for some months. Excuse me, sir, I must look for it.

[Exit CRIDDLE.

LUCAS takes out letter from an unsealed envelope, glances through it, sits at table, takes out pencil, adds a short note, puts letter in envelope, seals it up, puts it in his tail pocket, goes to conservatory, looks in. RENIE enters at door behind him. She starts, as he turns round.

Renie. [In a whisper.] You're here already?

Lucas. Yes——

Renie. Your wound?

Lucas. Much better. Nearly well.

Renie. I'm so glad——

Lucas. I'm not. I shall have to cut it back to India directly. Why didn't you answer my last letter?

Renie. I did—and tore it up.

Lucas. Tore it up?

Renie. What's the use? I told you last year we could never be anything to each other!

Lucas. But you didn't mean it?

[He seizes her hand and kisses it several times.

Renie. [Feebly attempting to withdraw it.] Yes—yes, I did. Hush!

Lucas. I want you to read this. [Shows her the letter.

Matt. [Heard through the door which is open a few inches.] Have you found the box, Criddle?

Criddle. No, sir. I've hunted everywhere.

Matt. Have another look. We must have it ready for Mr. Pilcher.

MATT enters. Meantime RENIE has crept to upper conservatory door and gone off signing to LUCAS to keep silence. He has taken the letter out of his pocket and held it up for her to see, putting it back before MATT enters.

Matt. Ah, Lucas. So you've got here. Happy New Year!

Lucas. Happy New Year, Uncle Matt.

[Cordially shaking hands.

Matt. Glad to see you back in England.

Lucas. Glad to be back!

Matt. How's the arm?

Lucas. Splendid—nearly well. Dolly and Harry all right?

Matt. First rate. They'll be here directly.

Lucas. The Sturgesses are here again, Criddle tells me.

Matt. Ye-es.

Lucas. Gray matter still going strong?

Matt. Booming.

Lucas. How's Mrs. Sturgess?

Matt. As usual, a little inclined to flop about and play act——

Lucas. Yes. Jolly good-looking woman though, eh?

Matt. Very. Lucas——

Lucas. Well?

Matt. You're quite cured, eh?

Lucas. Cured?

Matt. Of your infatuation for her.

Lucas. Infatuation? Well, I admired her, and perhaps it was lucky I was ordered out to India——

Matt. I managed that for you, my boy.

Lucas. You did!?

Matt. Sir John wanted a smart A.D.C., so I drove over to Aldershot, urged your claims, and got you the appointment.

Lucas. So that was why I was packed off. It was you who——

Matt. Aren't you thankful I did?

Lucas. Yes, much obliged to you, much obliged!

Matt. So you ought to be. And so's the lady.

Lucas. Is she?

Matt. Yes. When we got your wire yesterday saying you'd motor down to-day, Dolly had a long talk with her, and the result was she thanked Dolly and me for getting you out of the way and saving her from you.

Lucas. Did she?

Matt. Yes, for twenty minutes. She kissed Dolly, and I think she would have kissed me, only I didn't feel myself quite worthy.

Lucas. Oh, so that's all settled!

Matt. That's all settled. At least, let's hope so.

Lucas. What do you mean?

Matt. Well, you won't come——

Lucas. What?

Matt. The same old game.

Lucas. What same old game?

Matt. Why, the same old game!

Lucas. You must be judging me by yourself, when you were young.

Matt. My dear boy, that's just what I am doing. Lucas, there's not going to be any repetition——

Lucas. No—no.

Matt. Because it isn't the right thing to do, is it?

Lucas. No.

Matt. Very well then, don't do it!

Lucas. I won't! [Listening.] Ah! [DOLLY and HARRY'S voices heard in hall] Dolly and Harry!

DOLLY and HARRY enter very lovingly.

Lucas. Hillo, Doll, old girl! Happy New Year!

Dolly. Happy New Year, Lu!

Lucas. Harry, old brick, how goes it?

Harry. Splendid!

Lucas. Happy New Year!

Harry. Happy New Year! [Looking lovingly at DOLLY.] By Jove, Doll, you can foot it. [To LUCAS.] Doll and I have just raced up from the farm. She licked me! bless her!

Dolly. Yes, because you encouraged me!

Harry. [Looking at her lovingly and admiringly, kisses her heartily.] There aren't many things this little woman can't do.

Dolly. When you encourage me!

Harry. Oh, I'll encourage you!

[He again kisses her heartily.

Harry. Well, Lu, old boy, glad to see you home again. Arm pretty bad?

Lucas. No, nearly well, unfortunately.

Dolly. Down for the day?

Lucas. Well, now my car has broken down, I was wondering if you'd put me up——

Dolly. [Firmly.] No. We shall be pleased for you to stay to dinner.

Harry. There's the spare room, Doll.

Dolly. [Firmly.] No. That may be wanted for Renie or myself.

Harry. [Half aside to her.] I say, not for you, old girl!

Lucas. Oh, well, I shall have to get a shake-down at the Red Lion.

Enter RENIE at back, still in outdoor clothes.

Renie. [Feigning a little surprise.] Captain Wentworth! A happy New Year!

Lucas. Happy New Year, Mrs. Sturgess.

[Shaking hands.

Renie. So sorry to hear of your wound!

Lucas. Oh, it's healed, thank you.

Renie. I'm so glad. Shall you be making a long stay in England?

Lucas. I fear only a few days longer.

Renie. I'm sorry your visit will be so short.

CRIDDLE enters triumphantly with the hospital box which is very mouldy and dusty—he has also duster in his hand.

Criddle. I've found him, sir—

Matt. Rather mouldy, eh?

Criddle. Oh, we'll soon put that to rights, sir.

[Begins to dust the box carefully.

Matt. Looks well for your household discipline here, Harry.

Harry. How?

Matt. You've had no occasion to use him lately.

Criddle. [Displaying the box, having carefully dusted it.] There he is, sir, Hospital for Incurables! Nearly as good as new.

Matt. Where did you find him?

Criddle. In the wine-cellar, of all places! I was getting out a bottle of the sixty-eight port for New Year's night, and happening to put my hand behind, there he was!

Harry. [Has a sudden gesture of remembrance.] Yes, I remember!

Matt. What should incurables be doing in the wine-cellar? [Holds out his hand to CRIDDLE for the box. CRIDDLE, who has been holding it carefully, gives it to MATT. Exit CRIDDLE. MATT gives the box a shake. It rattles as if half full of coins. He shakes it again, more violently; it rattles again.] Internal organs sound healthy. How did he get into the wine-cellar, Harry?

Harry. Well, Dolly and I had been having a little tiff one morning—nothing serious——

Matt. No. When was that?

Harry. March, wasn't it?

Dolly. May, I think——

Harry. No, it wasn't that one—Well, never mind, I got so riled at Dolly always poking this box in front of me whenever I happened to—so I thought the wine-cellar would be the safest place for it.

Matt. [Gives it another rattle.] Well, here he is, turned up just at the right moment! And here you all are, Dolly, Harry, Lucas, Mrs. Sturgess—all clamouring for me to redeem my promise and put in a sovereign for each of you.

CRIDDLE appears at door announcing MR. PILCHER. PILCHER enters with four oblong brown paper parcels of equal size. Exit CRIDDLE.

Pilcher. Happy New Year to you all! Excuse me. [Depositing his parcels.] My New Year's gifts to a few of my parishioners!

Dolly. New Year's gifts!

Pilcher. To those who need them. [Shaking hands with her.] Happy New Year, Mr. Barron!

[Shaking hands.

Matt. Happy New Year!

Pilcher. How do this morning, Telfer! [HARRY nods.] My dear Mrs. Sturgess! [Shaking hands.

Renie. Happy New Year! What a lovely sermon you gave us again last night!

Pilcher. Lovely! Well, say healthy, bracing.

Harry. A jolly good rouser again. Made me feel—well——

[Gives himself a shake.

Pilcher. Ah, Captain Wentworth, happy New Year!

Lucas. [Shaking hands.] Happy New Year!

Pilcher. I heard you were wounded——

Lucas. Oh, that's done with.

Matt. We were just talking about our New Year's inquest——

Pilcher. Inquest?!

Matt. Into the characters of Dolly and Harry and——

[Glancing at RENIE and LUCAS.

Dolly. Oh, please don't talk about inquests. Nobody's character is dead here.

Matt. I hope not! We shall see——

Lucas. Uncle, you don't really mean——

Matt. It was a bona fide bargain on my side, but if you wish to avoid any awkward little exposures, or if Mr. Pilcher will kindly waive his claims to my contributions——

Pilcher. I'm afraid I can't. I have come here for the express purpose of bearing away my trophy—Ah! [Seeing box on table, takes it, gives it a shake; his features assume a pleasant smile.] It seems to have proved a very wholesome household regulator.

Harry. Yes, by Jove! It hadn't been in the house twenty-four hours before I put in a sovereign.

Pilcher. A sovereign?

Harry. The first night of last year Dolly and I had a little tiff—nothing serious—and so the next morning I made it up and—didn't I, Dolly?——

Dolly. You did! And paid my bills like a lamb, you dear!

Pilcher. And put in a sovereign? [Rattles the box again.] I won't say "Don't have any more household tiffs," but I will say "Don't omit to liquidate them." [Gives the box another rattle.] The box must have been in pretty constant use since——

Harry. Ye-es.

PROFESSOR STURGESS enters at back, with the proofs of his book in his hand.

Prof. How do you do?

Pilcher. [Has put down box.] How do you do? [Shaking hands.] Happy New Year!

Prof. Happy New Year to you! [To LUCAS.] How d'ye do?

Lucas. First rate. Happy New Year!

[Shaking hands.

Prof. Thank you. An accident?

Lucas. Bit of one. Getting over it.

Prof. If I might recommend the constant use of Pableine.

Lucas. Oh, thanks, it's quite well——

Prof. Try Pableine. It's a wonderful restorative. I'm intruding——

[Looking round.

Pilcher. Not at all. We were just about to settle the question Mr. Barron raised last New Year's day——

Prof. Oh, yes; I remember! Curiously enough I have only this morning received the proofs of my new volume, "Free Will, the Illusion."

[Showing the proofs to PILCHER.

Pilcher. Very interesting. I should like to discuss the matter with you, but [taking out watch] I have so many New Year's calls to make. [Looking at MATT.] Perhaps we ought to get on with the—a——

Matt. Inquest.

Pilcher. Vindication.

Matt. [Accepting the correction.] Vindication.

Prof. I may perhaps be allowed to point out that Mr. Barron's novel and humorous experiment can in no sense be said to settle, or even to touch, the question of Free Will, which as I have proved here depends upon—— [Again offering the proof.

Pilcher. I should like to look through those sheets, but——

[Glancing at MATT.

Prof. You shall! I have put the whole argument into the concrete case of Sarah Mumford——

Pilcher. Sarah Mumford?

Prof. The baby farmer——

Matt. Sarah's gray matter gone watery?

Prof. Not watery, but she had a yellow effusion——

Matt. I suppose that's just as bad?

Prof. Quite.

Matt. What did they do with her?

Prof. They hanged her. They then discovered extensive lesions and this yellow effusion——

Matt. Pity they didn't discover that before they hanged her.

Prof. My exact point! Where is the justice of punishing a woman whose gray matter functions perversely? It is nothing short of a crime.

Dolly. But she had suffocated five dear little babies?

Matt. How could she avoid suffocating babies if she had a yellow effusion in her brain?

Prof. Precisely my argument——

[Puts his proofs into MATT'S hands. Points out a passage. MATT, a little embarrassed, takes them, looks through them.]

Prof. The point I wish to establish is this. While we all allow that extensive or recognizable diseases of, or injuries to, the brain, free a man from responsibility and punishment, how can we logically mete out blame or praise, punishment or reward to our ordinary acts, thoughts, and impulses, seeing that all our acts, thoughts, and impulses, good or bad, virtuous or criminal, are equally the mere expressions of certain inevitable physical changes in the brain, the mere register on the dial plate of consciousness of necessary predetermined complications in the working of certain atoms of the gray matter of our cortex?

Matt. Quite so! Quite so! [DOLLY is about to speak, but MATT hushes her down with a warning look and sign.] The Professor wants to say with Socrates that no man would be such a fool as to do wrong, if he could possibly help it.

Prof. Well, if you like to put it that way——

Pilcher. And now perhaps we might proceed. Can you remember the exact terms, Mr. Barron?

Matt. I am to pay a sovereign for everyone of your hearers who has so far benefited by the wise admonitions of your last year's sermon as to have broken off his bad habits, or some especial bad habit——

Lucas. We aren't bound to say what the habit is that we've broken off?

Matt. I don't wish to be inquisitive, but if you don't mention the particular bad habit, you will have to give me your word of honor that you've conquered it. [Putting down proofs on table, taking up the money-box, giving it a shake.] Now, who will be first to step into the confessional? [Looking round.

Dolly. I will. As I've nothing to confess.

Matt. Nothing?

Dolly. No. I had what some husbands might think a bad habit, but——

Harry. No bills this Christmas, eh, Doll?

Dolly. No.

Harry. You're sure now, my darling?

Dolly. None of any importance.

Harry. What do you mean of any importance?

Dolly. Well, you must have some bills—they grow up before you know—such as Doctors' bills—you can't settle them all on the spur of the moment, but I've nothing—nothing of importance. So please put in your sovereign for me, Dad, and look pleasant about it.

Matt. You declare upon your word of honor that you have broken off your bad habit of running up bills?

Dolly. Yes.

Matt. Entirely?

Dolly. Yes. You said you wouldn't be inquisitive.

Matt. Yes, but——

Pilcher. Mrs. Telfer has given her word. I think I may claim one victory for free will, [nodding victoriously at the PROFESSOR who shakes his head], and one sovereign for the Blanket Club.

Matt. Hum! [Draws a sovereign out of his pocket and very reluctantly drops it into the box, shakes his head at DOLLY who looks a little uncomfortable.] Who volunteers next?

Renie. I do. No—I'll wait a little—I want to make sure that I am perfectly honest with myself and with everybody.

Matt. That perhaps may need a little consideration, Lucas?

Lucas. Oh, let Harry have his doing first!

Matt. Now, Harry!

Harry. Oh, well, here goes! I'm going to make a clean breast. The fact is I've made a thundering mess of it.

Matt. Ah!

Harry. I did begin all right except for a little tiff with Dolly—and then I kept on pretty well for some time, and then—well I don't know—I seemed to go all to pieces and—[MATT rattles the money-box.] However, better luck this year.

Pilcher. Shall we say a little more resolution?

Harry. Oh, I mean to pull myself together this year.

Matt. Perhaps you tried too much reforming, Harry—too many irons in the fire, eh?

Harry. Well, it's jolly hard to keep it up. And I'd got pretty slack till you woke us up last night—I say, that was a rouser again.

Pilcher. It wasn't a very bad sermon, was it? Well now for the next year shall we make one especial effort in one especial direction—Say——

Dolly. Temper, eh, Harry?

Harry. Right, old girl! Oh, I mean it.

Matt. No victory for free will, and the Blanket Club, this time. Game and game, eh? Now which of you two——

[Looking at RENIE and LUCAS.

Renie. I'll be your first victim. [Coming into the middle of the room, and posing.] It's so strange that what you started as a jest——

Matt. Oh no, in deadly earnest I assure you.

Renie. In this life who knows what is jest and what is earnest? The least little innocent thing may turn to a tragedy in a moment——

Matt. Surely you haven't had any little tragedies?

Renie. No, last year a mere little circumstance might have turned to a tragedy—honestly I wasn't to blame, but perhaps I was a little careless, and two dear friends came to me with their counsel, and what might have been a tragedy was turned to a comedy, thanks to those two dear friends!

Prof. My dear, may I ask "what circumstance" you are alluding to?

Matt. We said we wouldn't be inquisitive——

Prof. No, but I cannot recall anything in my wife's life during the last twelve months that even approached a tragedy——

Renie. I said the affair was quite unimportant——

Prof. Then I wish, my dear, you wouldn't magnify everything, and I wish you would read solid scientific works in place of rubbishy French novels—and above all, take a little more regular exercise!

Matt. Perhaps Mrs. Sturgess may consider that little point during the coming year. Meantime, [To RENIE] may we be confident your little tragedy is ended——

Renie. Oh yes, quite.

Matt. We needn't ask its nature, but you give us your word of honor?

[Looks at her very searchingly and speaking seriously.]

Renie. Yes, my word of honor.

Matt. Thank you.

Pilcher. Another victory.

Matt. [Looks searchingly at her, drops a sovereign in the box.] Lucas?

Lucas. [Coming cheerfully forward.] My turn for the thumbscrew!

Matt. You seem very cheerful about it.

Lucas. Yes, I'm going to make a jolly good show.

Matt. What particular bad habit have you conquered during the past year?

Lucas. I don't know that I've conquered any one in particular, but I've had a regular good go in all round, so altogether I can pat myself on the back.

Matt. But I want to know one particular habit conquered—for instance, you weren't very careful what ladies you made love to, or how many of them at the same time——

Lucas. I say, Uncle Matt, drop this——

Matt. And a year or two ago you went just a little bit off the straight——

Lucas. Oh no I didn't.

Matt. I want to know——

Lucas. Thank you, no more thumbscrew. I'm out of this before it goes any further.

Matt. It isn't going any further. [Putting his hand on LUCAS'S shoulder.] Give me your word of honor——

Lucas. That's all very well, it wasn't a very bad case, and I don't think you should have brought it up. But as you have—well, I did meet a lady, and I was very much attracted to her, but I summoned all my resolution, and there the matter ended.

Pilcher. I think I may claim a victory here.

Lucas. So please put in your sovereign.

Matt. [Very seriously.] If you will give me your word of honor that you have absolutely broken off——

Lucas. Yes, yes, of course I have.

[MATT puts in a sovereign, hands the box to PILCHER.

Pilcher. Three victories and one draw out of four. Most satisfactory. [Taking out watch.] I must hurry off to the White House and see what they're doing there. [Rattling the box.] Excellent results! So excellent that I think I'm justified in making you a little New Year's gift.

[Going to his heap of brown-paper parcels.

Dolly. A New Year's gift! How kind of you! To me?

Pilcher. [Opening his parcel.] To you and your husband. To your husband in particular, because, although he may have fallen a little short of perfection during the last year—like some of the rest of us—yet I feel sure that during this coming year—[They have all been watching him curiously; he has now opened the parcel and displays a very bright brand new collecting box, with Crookbury Blanket Club painted on it, in large letters. It is much larger than the hospital box.] My household regulator! [Giving it to DOLLY.

Dolly. [Who has shown considerable disappointment on the opening of the parcel.] Crookbury Blanket Club! Thank you so much, for Harry's sake. Harry! For you, dear.

[She gives the box to HARRY, who places it on the same table.]

Dolly. You call it the household regulator?

Pilcher. Yes—I have suggested it to several of my brethren. Oh, its use will become very general throughout the diocese.

Dolly. You think it will work well?

Pilcher. It cannot fail. A box of this character—larger or smaller, according to the size of the family and their behaviour is left at each house on the first of the year. All little failings, peccadilloes, and asperities are strictly fined. The inevitable result is that either the family behaviour improves, or the parish charities benefit. I'm starting its operation in my parish to-day. Forgive any inexcusable rudeness in leaving the first box with you. I must hurry off! [Shaking hands.] Good-bye, Professor.

Prof. I should like to make that point clear with regard to free will——

Pilcher. When you have an hour, or shall I say a year, to spare, we might argue it out——

Prof. You're going to the White House? If I might accompany you——

Pilcher. Delighted!

[Shakes hands in dumb show with DOLLY and HARRY.

Prof. Renie, you've had your restless fits again. You'd better come with us——

Renie. But I've already been walking——

Prof. My dear, this bracing country air is just what you need. Keep out in it all the day long——

Renie. Oh, very well—the White House, and the fish-pond as usual, I suppose?

Prof. As usual. Come along.

[Exit. RENIE slightly shrugs her shoulders, very slightly glances at LUCAS and exit after PROFESSOR.

Lucas. The dear old fish-pond! We might all take a stroll there!

Matt. Good idea! The dear old fish-pond! We might all take a stroll there!

[Linking his arm with LUCAS.

Lucas. [Suspicious, holding back.] I don't know that I care—we went there last year——

Matt. We did! Same old game, eh? Come along.

[Drags LUCAS off.

Pilcher. [Has been gathering up his parcels.] Well, good-bye! Good-bye! [Rattles the hospital box vigorously.] Three splendid victories for free will and moral resolution!

[Exit, rattling the box.

Harry. Doll, you really haven't got any bills this year?

Dolly. No! no! Only the few little oddments that no woman can prevent.

Harry. You might let me see the little oddments——

Dolly. I will. [Suddenly.] Oh Harry, I quite forgot! Do forgive me!

Harry. What?

Dolly. I never wrote the geyser bath people!

Harry. Never mind the geyser bath.

Dolly. And only this morning you rowed me because I hadn't got it ready for the New Year! Where did you put their address?

Harry. I don't know! Somewhere upstairs among my papers.

Dolly. [Gently pushing him off.] I can just catch to-night's post! Make haste and get it! Quick! There's a dear! And then we can get the bath fixed up for you next week.

Harry. Ye—es. I say, Doll, I mean to get those oddments fixed up to-night.

[Taps the writing-case significantly and exit. DOLLY looks frightened, sees him off, goes up to writing-desk, takes out bills, looks at them, throws up her arms in despair, groans, slams down the writing-desk, looks at the chair she has touched in first act, shows great resolution, marches up and touches it.

Dolly. Yes! Yes! I have got free will.

[Goes back from it, again looks at it, again marches up to it, touches it.

Dolly. Then why do I keep on having bills?

RENIE enters in great agitation and distress.

Renie. Oh, Dolly!

Dolly. What's the matter?

Renie. Oh, Dolly!

Dolly. What is it?

Renie. [Throws her arms round DOLLY affectionately.] You've always been such a true friend to me——

Dolly. Yes, dear.

Renie. More like a sister. And I know I may trust you now.

Dolly. [A little suspicious.] Yes. Has anything happened?

Renie. Yes. Oh, Dolly——

Dolly. Tell me!

Renie. As we were going out at the garden gate, Captain Wentworth held out a letter behind his back for me to take——

Dolly. What?!

Renie. But now his arm is wounded he couldn't manage it properly, and he dropped it. I hurried to pick it up, and then my husband noticed and insisted on reading it——

Dolly. What was in the letter?

Renie. It wasn't so very bad, but my husband has chosen to jump to a wrong conclusion, and—oh, Dolly, you can help me!

Dolly. [Coldly, relaxing her embrace.] How?

Renie. If you'd only let me tell my husband that I was receiving it for you——

Dolly. What?!

Renie. There was no address, and fortunately it was so worded that it showed that you weren't really guilty.

Dolly. Oh! I wasn't really guilty?

Renie. In fact, it proves your complete innocence.

Dolly. I'm glad of that.

Renie. Then you'll let me say it was you?

Dolly. No! You can't suppose I should let my own cousin make love to me in my own house?!

Renie. You won't help me?

Dolly. Yes, any way but that! How could you be so foolish?

Renie. I don't know. When I heard yesterday he was coming, I quite made up my mind I'd have nothing to say to him! Dolly, free will must be an illusion, or else why am I always doing the things I don't mean to do. Oh, what shall I do?

Dolly. As you are completely innocent, you'd better ask your husband to forgive you.

Renie. Ye—es. No! As it is a perfectly pure and exalted attachment I shall take that ground—at any rate at first, and see what he says. You'll help me all you can?

Dolly. Yes, but promise me you'll have nothing to do with Lucas in future!

Renie. No, indeed! if I once get out of this.

Dolly. Very well! I'll see what I can do.—Hush!

The PROFESSOR enters with a letter in his hand, MATT soothing him.

Prof. [Very angry.] Not a word more, if you please. Mrs. Telfer, you have doubtless heard——

Dolly. Yes——?

Prof. I leave for London to-night-to consult my lawyer. Mrs. Sturgess will, I trust, return to her friends until——

Matt. Perhaps Mrs. Sturgess may be able to explain——

Prof. What explanation can be offered of language like this. [Reading from letter.] "From the first moment I saw you, I felt that you were entirely different from any woman I have ever met——" A monstrously inexact statement to start with. And a woman who is capable of practising such deceit——

[RENIE bursts into tears.

Matt. I think you ought to hear what Mrs. Sturgess has to say——

Renie. [Through her tears.] What would be the use? With such a nature as his he could never begin to understand the loyal and exalted devotion which Captain Wentworth feels for me! No, all my life I have been misunderstood, misjudged, condemned! Let it be so till the end! Dolly, come and help me pack!

[Exit. MATT goes up to table and takes up proofs of PROFESSOR'S book and looks through them.

Dolly. You're really too severe with poor Renie——

Prof. I am not severe. I simply register the inevitable sentence of the husband upon the wife who misconducts herself!

Dolly. Misconducts herself! She has merely had a little harmless flirtation——

Prof. In my wife a flirtation of this character [pointing to letter in his hand] constitutes grave misconduct.

Dolly. But that's perfectly ridiculous! Why it might happen to any woman! Dad, explain to him——

Matt. Professor, you're taking altogether a wrong view of this. Now this case you were pointing out to me in your own book [pointing to proofs]—Number forty-nine, Mrs. Copway. Remarkably handsome woman too!—[reading] "The injustice and cruelty of condemning this poor lady must be apparent to all." My dear Professor, before publishing this book you'll have to modify your theory.

Prof. I cannot modify my theory. I have spent ten years in collecting facts which prove it.

Matt. Then, pardon me, you must really look over Mrs. Sturgess's little indiscretion.

Prof. That is equally impossible——

Matt. But you say that her action in receiving my nephew's letter was entirely due to the activity of certain atoms in the gray matter of her brain.

Prof. Undoubtedly that is so.

Dolly. Very well then, if her gray matter keeps on working wrong, what's the use of blaming her? You say yourself there's no such thing as free will——

Prof. Precisely, but I have always allowed that in the present low moral and intellectual condition of the herd of mankind, free will is a plausible working hypothesis.

Dolly. But it doesn't work! Free will won't work at all! Look at my own case! Do you suppose I should go on all my life having bills if I could help myself? [Catching MATT'S eye, who looks at her gravely and holds up his finger.] Never mind my bills! Do make him see how wrong and absurd it is to punish poor Renie when there's no such thing as free will!

Matt. Dolly's right! She's only saying what you have so admirably laid down here. My dear Professor, you cannot possibly publish this book!

Prof. But it has been announced! I must publish it.

Matt. You cannot. Read that. [Giving the PROFESSOR the book and pointing out passage.] Surely after that you cannot condemn Mrs. Sturgess.

Prof. [Taking book, glancing at the passage.] Really, it's most annoying when one's own wife upsets——

Matt. Oh! they're always making hay of our theories one way or the other.

Prof. Of course, if one presses the matter home to first principles——

Dolly. Yes! Yes! Well, why not act on your own first principles! You ought to be very sorry for poor Renie, considering all she has suffered.

Prof. Suffered?

Dolly. Yes, poor dear! You don't know what an awful struggle she has gone through between this unfortunate flirtation and her admiration for you.

Prof. Her admiration for me!

Dolly. Yes! She always speaks of you as her great protagonist of science.

Prof. [Mollified.] Does she? Does she?

Dolly. Yes. If I were you I should go upstairs, and be very sweet to her, and above all don't reproach her. We women can endure anything except reproaches——

Prof. [Looking at his proofs.] I must publish my book. And after all, as you say, it is useless to blame them for acting according to the——

Matt. The dictates of their gray matter when, bless them, they can't help themselves. My dear Professor, instead of condemning your wife you ought to be condoling with her, and doing all you can to get her gray matter into a healthy condition.

Prof. I will hear what she has to say.

Dolly. No. Go straight to her and forgive her, and then I'm sure her gray matter will soon be all right. And what a triumph that will be for you!

Prof. It does offer a way out of the difficulty. In any case I must publish my book. [Exit.

Dolly. Dad, I won't have her here next Christmas.

Matt. No, my dear, I wouldn't.

Dolly. That wretched Lucas!

Matt. What is to be done with him?

Dolly. Pack him off! Pack him off at once!

[LUCAS cautiously looks in from upper conservatory door.

Lucas. I say, how's the old bird seem to take it?

Dolly. Old bird!

Lucas. He isn't going to make a shindy over a trifle like this?

Dolly. Trifle! He's threatening to divorce her and expose you!

Lucas. You don't say so. I'm awfully sorry!

Dolly. Sorry!

Lucas. I am, indeed! And any reparation I can make——

Dolly. Reparation?!

Lucas. Such as an apology——

[DOLLY utters a contemptuous exclamation.

Matt. Will you give me your word of honor never to see Mrs. Sturgess again?

Lucas. Yes.

Matt. Or write to her?

Lucas. Yes.

Matt. The word of honour of an English gentleman used to mean something, Lu.

Lucas. It does now, Uncle Matt!

Matt. [Shakes hands with him heartily.] Then I'll take it. Now be off as quickly as you can and let us make the best of it for you and her.

Lucas. Thanks. Good-bye!

Matt. Good-bye!

[LUCAS crosses to DOLLY, offers his hand.

Dolly. No, Lu. If Renie gets out of this safely and if you behave yourself, I'll shake hands with you when you come back from India.

Lucas. You're taking this too seriously—you're taking it far too seriously! [Exit.

Matt. We're making a splendid start again for the New Year!

Dolly. I hope this will be a lesson for Renie!

Matt. I hope so. How about yourself?

Dolly. What do you mean?

Matt. I put the sovereign in, but—you've got a few more bills, eh?

Dolly. Just a few oddments.

Matt. How much?

Dolly. I don't know. Dad——

Matt. Well?

Dolly. Now that South Africans have gone up at last, and you won that splendid coup on them last week——

Matt. Well?

Dolly. You couldn't lend me—a few hundreds—till my allowance comes due? Just a few hundreds——

Matt. [In a low reproachful tone, shaking his head.] What? What? What? Sad! Sad! Sad!!

Dolly. [Listens.] There's Harry! You will help me, Dad—you will?

Matt. I'll see what I can do.

HARRY enters cheerfully.

Harry. That's all right, Doll! There's the address.

[Giving a slip of paper.

Dolly. Thanks, dear.

Harry. And now about these mere oddments?

Dolly. Not now, dear.

Harry. Yes, dear, now. [Very sternly.] This instant!

Dolly. Harry, you're going to lose your temper——

Harry. No. I'm going to keep a firm guard on it, but [very sternly] let me see those bills.

Dolly. [Creeps frightened up to the desk.] I'm sure you're going to lose your temper.

[Opens the desk.

Harry. [Firmly.] No. I'm quite calm. Whose bill is that? [She hands him one timorously.] Fulks and Garner! Artist Furriers! More artists! [looks at total]—one hundred and twenty-four pounds. Well, I'm——

Dolly. Ah, Jobling!

Harry. I should think I am Jobling. And you said you'd never enter their shop again!

Dolly. I never meant it, but this time it was absolutely necessary——

Harry. Necessary?

Dolly. Yes—you see the chief item——

Harry. [Reads.] Chinchilla toque, coat, muff and boa—eighty guineas—eighty guineas——

Dolly. I got them as a surprise for you when we go South next week.

Harry. Surprise! Great heavens! What in the name of all——

Matt. Shush, Harry! Her motive was a good one. She got it to please you!

Dolly. You haven't seen it yet, it's just outside—I've a great mind to give you a great New Year's treat and let you see it on!

Harry. I'm not going to be sweedled——

Matt. Hush! Harry! Let her put it on! Let's have a look at it, and see whether it's worth the money. Put it on, Doll. [Exit DOLLY.

Harry. [Calls after her.] I tell you I'm not going to be sweedled!——

Matt. What is sweedled?

Harry. Sweedling is sweedling! It's part swindling and part wheedling! It's what every d—ee—d good-natured husband like me has to go through, when he's fool enough to put up with it!

Matt. Well, old boy, you'll have to pay, you know; it will come to that in the end.

Harry. I'm not going to be sweedled——

Matt. And if Dolly has been a little extravagant, I must help her out with it to-morrow morning!

Harry. No, we'll go into it thoroughly to-night.

Matt. No, Harry, we won't. My room is just above here. Besides, the cook is going to give us a special New Year dinner, and I want to enjoy it. This New Year we'll start with a comfortable evening, please!

DOLLY enters at back in a very handsome Chinchilla coat. HARRY looks a little sulky. She stands in the middle of the room and displays it.

Dolly. Well? [He looks at it rather sulkily, walks away; she follows him.] Well? [Walking after him.] Well? Well?

[Displaying the furs.]

[He turns, looks at her, she stands and holds out her arms.

Harry. Oh, hang it all! [Takes her in his arms and kisses her.] There!

Dolly. [Kissing him heartily.] And there! [Another kiss.] And there! [Another kiss.] And there! [Catches sight of the collecting box, goes to it, furiously sweeps it off its table on to the floor.] AND THERE!

CURTAIN.

* * * * *

Transcriber's note

The following changes have been made to the text:

Page 7: "The Afternoon" changed to "The afternoon".

Page 12: "thirt-four, seven" changed to "thirty-four, seven".

Page 21: "no doubt each of has his own" changed to "no doubt each of you has his own".

Page 30: "had a plesant walk" changed to "had a pleasant walk".

Page 33: "to the time—— w" changed to "to the time——".

Page 50: "Doll." changed to "Dolly.".

Page 60: "Gibralter" changed to "Gibraltar".

Page 69: "speak for themselevs" changed to "speak for themselves".

Page 76: "least self-recpect" changed to "least self-respect".

Page 76: "now organgized" changed to "now organized".

Page 78: "down in a mniute" changed to "down in a minute".

Page 95: "extensive lessions" changed to "extensive lesions".

THE END