Contemporary One-Act Plays Part 7

KATE. That is a picture of her, is it not?

SIR HARRY. [_Seizing his chance again._] In her wedding-gown. Painted by an R.A.

KATE. [_Wickedly._] A knight?

SIR HARRY. [_Deceived._] Yes.

KATE. [_Who likes_ LADY SIMS--_a piece of presumption on her part_.] It is a very pretty face.

SIR HARRY. [_With the pride of possession._] Acknowledged to be a beauty everywhere.

KATE. There is a merry look in the eyes, and character in the chin.

SIR HARRY. [_Like an auctioneer._] Noted for her wit.

KATE. All her life before her when that was painted. It is a _spirituelle_ face too. [_Suddenly she turns on him with anger, for the first and only time in the play._] Oh, Harry, you brute!

SIR HARRY. [_Staggered._] Eh? What?

KATE. That dear creature, capable of becoming a n.o.ble wife and mother--she is the spiritless woman of no account that I saw here a few minutes ago. I forgive you for myself, for I escaped, but that poor lost soul, oh, Harry, Harry.

SIR HARRY. [_Waving her to the door._] I'll thank you--If ever there was a woman proud of her husband and happy in her married life, that woman is Lady Sims.

KATE. I wonder.

SIR HARRY. Then you needn't wonder.

KATE. [_Slowly._] If I was a husband--it is my advice to all of them--I would often watch my wife quietly to see whether the twelve-pound look was not coming into her eyes. Two boys, did you say, and both like you?

SIR HARRY. What is that to you?

KATE. [_With glistening eyes_.] I was only thinking that somewhere there are two little girls who, when they grow up--the dear, pretty girls who are all meant for the men that don't get on! Well, good-by, Sir Harry.

SIR HARRY. [_Showing a little human weakness, it is to be feared._] Say first that you're sorry.

KATE. For what?

SIR HARRY. That you left me. Say you regret it bitterly. You know you do. [_She smiles and shakes her head. He is pettish. He makes a terrible announcement._] You have spoiled the day for me.

KATE. [_To hearten him._] I am sorry for that; but it is only a pin-p.r.i.c.k, Harry. I suppose it is a little jarring in the moment of your triumph to find that there is--one old friend--who does not think you a success; but you will soon forget it. Who cares what a typist thinks?

SIR HARRY. [_Heartened._] n.o.body. A typist at eighteen shillings a week!

KATE. [_Proudly._] Not a bit of it, Harry. I double that.

SIR HARRY. [_Neatly._] Magnificent!

[_There is a timid knock at the door._]

LADY SIMS. May I come in?

SIR HARRY. [_Rather appealingly._] It is Lady Sims.

KATE. I won't tell. She is afraid to come into her husband's room without knocking!

SIR HARRY. She is not. [_Uxoriously._] Come in, dearest.

[_Dearest enters, carrying the sword. She might have had the sense not to bring it in while this annoying person is here._

LADY SIMS. [_Thinking she has brought her welcome with her._] Harry, the sword has come.

SIR HARRY. [_Who will dote on it presently._] Oh, all right.

LADY SIMS. But I thought you were so eager to practise with it.

[_The person smiles at this. He wishes he had not looked to see if she was smiling._

SIR HARRY. [_Sharply._] Put it down.

[LADY SIMS _flushes a little as she lays the sword aside_.

KATE. [_With her confounded courtesy._] It is a beautiful sword, if I may say so.

LADY SIMS. [_Helped._] Yes.

[_The person thinks she can put him in the wrong, does she? He'll show her._

SIR HARRY. [_With one eye on_ KATE.] Emmy, the one thing your neck needs is more jewels.

LADY SIMS. [_Faltering._] More!

SIR HARRY. Some ropes of pearls. I'll see to it. It's a bagatelle to me.

[KATE _conceals her chagrin, so she had better be shown the door. He rings._] I won't detain you any longer, miss.

KATE. Thank you.

LADY SIMS. Going already? You have been very quick.

SIR HARRY. The person doesn't suit, Emmy.

LADY SIMS. I'm sorry.

KATE. So am I, madam, but it can't be helped. Good-by, your ladyship--good-by, Sir Harry.

[_There is a suspicion of an impertinent courtesy, and she is escorted off the premises by_ TOMBES. _The air of the room is purified by her going._ SIR HARRY _notices it at once_.

LADY SIMS. [_Whose tendency is to say the wrong thing._] She seemed such a capable woman.