Second Plays Part 78

STRANGER (feeling in his pocket). _He_ knew right enough. (Bringing out letters) Look here--here you are. This was how I found out.

(Selecting one) There--read that one.

LADY PEMBURY (taking it). Yes--that's John's writing. (She holds it out to him.)

STRANGER. Aren't you going to read it?

LADY PEMBURY (shaking her head pathetically). He didn't write it to _me_.

STRANGER. He didn't write it to _me_, if it comes to that.

LADY PEMBURY. You're her son--you have a right. I'm--n.o.body.

STRANGER (putting it back in his pocket). Oh well, please yourself.

LADY PEMBURY. Did Sir John provide for your mother?

STRANGER. Well, why shouldn't he? He was a rich man.

LADY PEMBURY. Not in those days. . . . But indeed--why shouldn't he? What else could he do? I'm glad he did.

STRANGER. And now he's going to provide for his loving son. He's rich enough for that in these days.

LADY PEMBURY. He's never seen you?

STRANGER. Never. The historic meeting of Father and Son will take place this afternoon. (With a feeble attempt at what he thinks is the aristocratic manner) Afraid the Governor will be in the deuce of a rage. Been exceedin' my allowance--what? Make it a thousand, dear old Gov.

LADY PEMBURY. Don't they call that blackmail?

STRANGER (violently). Now look here, I'd better tell you straight that there's no blackmail about this at all. He's my father, isn't he?

Well, can't a son come to his father if he's hard up? Where are your threatening letters? Where's the blackmail? Anyway, what's he going to do about it? Put his son in prison?

LADY PEMBURY (following her own thoughts). You're thirty. Thank G.o.d for that. We hadn't met then. . . . Ah, but he ought to have told me. He ought to have told me.

STRANGER. P'raps he thought you wouldn't marry him, if he did.

LADY PEMBURY. Do you think that was it? (Earnestly to him, as if he were an old friend) You know men--young men. I never had a son; I never had any brothers. Do they tell? They ought to, oughtn't they?

STRANGER. Well--well, if you ask _me_--I say, look here, this isn't the sort of thing one discusses with a lady.

LADY PEMBURY. Isn't it? But one can talk to a friend.

STRANGER (scornfully). You and me look like friends, don't we?

LADY PEMBURY (smiling). Well, we do, rather.

(He gets up hastily and moves further away from her.)

STRANGER. I know what _your_ game is. Don't think I don't see it.

LADY PEMBURY. What is it?

STRANGER. Falling on your knees, and saying with tears in your eyes: "Oh, kind friend, spare me poor husband!" _I_ know the sort of thing.

And trying to work me up friendly before you begin.

LADY PEMBURY (shaking her head). No, if I went on my knees to you, I shouldn't say that. How can you hurt my husband now?

STRANGER. Well, I don't suppose the scandal will do him much good. Not an important Member of Parliament like _him_.

LADY PEMBURY. Ah, but it isn't the outside things that really hurt you, the things which are done to you, but the things which you do to yourself. And so if I went on my knees to you, it would not be for my husband's sake. For I should go on my knees, and I should say: "Oh, my son that might have been, think before you give up everything that a man should have. Ambition, hope, pride, self-respect--are not these worth keeping? Is your life to end now? Have you done all that you came into the world to do, so that now you can look back and say, 'It is finished; I have given all that I had to give; henceforward I will spend'?" (Very gently) Oh, my son that might have been!

STRANGER (very uncomfortable). Here, I say, that isn't fair.

LADY PEMBURY (gently). When did your mother die?

STRANGER. Look here, I wish you wouldn't keep on about mothers.

LADY PEMBURY. When did she die, proud mother?

STRANGER (sulkily). Well, why shouldn't she be proud? (After a pause) Two years ago, if you want to know.

LADY PEMBURY. It was then that you found out who your father was?

STRANGER. That's right. I found these old letters. She'd kept them locked up all those years. Bit of luck for me.

LADY PEMBURY (almost to herself). And that was two years ago. And for two years you had your hopes, your ambitions, for two years you were proud and independent. . . . Why did you not come to us then?

STRANGER (with a touch of vanity). Well, I was getting on all right, you know--and----

LADY PEMBURY. And then suddenly, after two years, you lost hope.

STRANGER. I lost my job.

LADY PEMBURY. Poor boy! And couldn't get another.

STRANGER (bitterly). It's a beast of a world if you're down. He's in the gutter--kick him down--trample on him. n.o.body wants him. That's the way to treat them when they're down. Trample on 'em.

LADY PEMBURY. And so you came to your father to help you up again. To help you out of the gutter.

STRANGER. That's right.

LADY PEMBURY (pleadingly). Ah, but give him a chance!

STRANGER. Now, look here, I've told you already that I'm not going to have any of _that_ game.

LADY PEMBURY (shaking her head sadly). Foolish boy! You don't understand. Give him a chance to help you out of the gutter.

STRANGER. Well, I'm----! Isn't that what I am doing?