A Fool's Paradise Part 18

BEA. I thought you hated all women.

NOR. On the contrary, I am never so happy as in the society of ladies.

BEA. You, who are always raving against marriage.

NOR. That's the reason. To marry is to devote oneself to an individual; whilst a bachelor can devote himself to the s.e.x. Besides, I have to study economy--and it comes cheaper on taking a quant.i.ty.

BEA. Perhaps, you are right. Marriage is a terrible lottery.

NOR. You should be thankful you have drawn a prize.

BEA. Don't mock me.

NOR. I'm sure you couldn't have a better husband than Philip. He's one of the best fellows in the world.

BEA. Ah! there's only one prize--to a woman.

NOR. (_aside_) She means me. (_two steps away_)

BEA. All the rest are blanks. And sometimes worse than blanks.

NOR. (_aside_) This is d.a.m.n'd awkward! (_a further movement R.C._)

BEA. (_rises_) Lord Normantower, I owe you an explanation which I have had no opportunity of giving you. Your time is so much occupied, and we are so seldom alone.

NOR. (_aside, R.C._) I wish somebody'd come!

BEA. (C.) When you first came to Ravenhurst, I made what must have seemed a very strange avowal.

NOR. Mrs. Selwyn, I have tried to forget it, and I hope you will a.s.sist me. And the best way to forget it, is not to say anything about it.

BEA. I have tried to be silent--but in justice to myself, I must speak. You know my marriage was not my own wish; but having married, do me the justice to believe I would have been a true and loyal wife, if Philip had been all you think he is.

NOR. Philip?

BEA. I have accepted my lot without a murmur. Even now, my only wish is that you should not think too harshly of my indiscretion; but at the sight of you, the old times came back so vividly, that words sprang to my lips which I should not have spoken, even under such provocation as mine.

NOR. I have known Philip nearly all my life, and this is the first breath I ever heard against him. I can't help thinking you must be mistaken.

BEA. Think so--by all means think so! I do not ask for pity or for sympathy. I only said so much in self-defence. Now I have done. (_goes to L._)

NOR. (_aside_) Thank goodness!

BEA. But you are quite right to remain a bachelor. Marriage is a mistake. (_sitting in easy chair L._)

NOR. (_goes to L.C._) There are two ways of looking at it; and, after all, one ought to see both sides. I've looked at one for so long, I'm seriously thinking of taking a turn at the other. (_sits on sofa_)

BEA. You contemplate being married?

NOR. Well, I have had some thoughts of it. (_toying with BEATRICE'S fan which she has left on sofa_)

BEA. Whom shall I have the pleasure of congratulating?

NOR. Oh, I don't know. I haven't asked her yet--at least, not properly. I'm sort of--feeling my way.

BEA. I don't think you need fear.

NOR. D'you think she'll have me--really!

BEA. Of course, I don't know who the lady is.

NOR. Oh, yes you do, Miss Derwent.

BEA. (_rises suddenly_) Miss Derwent?

NOR. Yes, of course. You must have seen I'm awfully gone on her.

BEA. And you propose to marry her.

NOR. Well I should like to.

BEA. (_drops back into seat_) What am I to say?

NOR. What do you mean?

BEA. Nothing. I only meant--rather a mesalliance, isn't it?

NOR. I don't see that at all. I'm no great catch. I'm as poor as a church mouse.

BEA. A coronet is something.

NOR. Pooh! What's a coronet? A thing they stick about on hansom cabs.

Sixpence a mile.

BEA. And don't you owe a duty to your family?

NOR. My family owe a great deal more to me, but there's precious little chance of their stumping up.

BEA. (_rises_) Let me see. How long have you known Miss Derwent?

(_front of table_)

NOR. About a week. (_R. end of sofa, facing her_)

BEA. And don't you think it's dangerous, to marry on so short an acquaintance?

NOR. To marry anybody else, it would be. Not to marry _her._

BEA. Have you told Philip?