The Notorious Mrs. Ebbsmith Part 13

ST. OLPHERTS. The father--one of those public park vermin, eh?

LUCAS. Dead years ago.

ST. OLPHERTS. I once heard her bellowing in a dirty little shed in St.

Luke's. I told you?

LUCAS. Yes, you've told me.

ST. OLPHERTS. I sat there again, it seemed, this afternoon. The orator not quite so lean, perhaps--a little less witch-like; but--

LUCAS. She was actually in want of food in those days! Poor girl!

[Partly to himself.] I mean to remind myself of that constantly. Poor girl!

ST. OLPHERTS. Girl! Let me see--you're considerably her junior?

LUCAS. No, no; a few months, perhaps.

ST. OLPHERTS. Oh, come!

LUCAS. Well, years--two or three.

ST. OLPHERTS. The voice remains rather raucous.

LUCAS. By G.o.d, the voice is sweet!

ST. OLPHERTS. Well--considering the wear and tear. Really, my dear fellow, I do believe this--I do believe that if you gowned her respectably--

LUCAS. [Impulsively.] Yes, yes, I say so. I tell her that.

ST. OLPHERTS. [With a smile.] Do you? That's odd, now.

LUCAS. What a topic. Poor Agnes's dress!

ST. OLPHERTS. Your taste used to be rather aesthetic. Even your own wife is one of the smartest women in London.

LUCAS. Ha, well I must contrive to smother these aesthetic tastes of mine.

ST. OLPHERTS. It's a pity that other people will retain their sense of the incongruous.

LUCAS. [Snapping his fingers.] Other people!--

ST. OLPHERTS. The public.

LUCAS. The public?

ST. OLPHERTS. Come, you know well enough that unostentatious immodesty is no part of your partner's programme. Of course, you will find yourself by-and-bye in a sort of perpetual parade with your crack-brained visionary--

LUCAS. You shall not speak of her so! You shall not.

ST. OLPHERTS. [Unconcernedly.] Each of you bearing a pole of the soiled banner of Free Union. Free Union for the People! Ho, my dear Lucas!

LUCAS. Good heavens, Duke, do you imagine, now that I am in sound health and mind again, that I don't see the hideous absurdity of these views of hers?

ST. OLPHERTS. Then why the deuce don't you listen a little more patiently to my views?

LUCAS. No, no. I tell you I intend to keep faith with her, as far as I am able. She's so earnest, so pitiably earnest. If I broke faith with her entirely, it would be too d.a.m.nably cowardly.

ST. OLPHERTS. Cowardly!

LUCAS. [Pacing the room agitatedly.] Besides, we shall do well together, after all, I believe--she and I. In the end we shall make concessions to each other and settle down, somewhere abroad, peacefully.

ST. OLPHERTS. Ha! And they called you a Coming Man at one time, didn't they?

LUCAS. Oh, I--I shall make as fine a career with my pen as that other career would have been. At any rate, I ask you to leave me to it all-- to leave me!

[FORTUNE enters. The shades of evening have now deepened; the glow of sunset comes into the room.]

FORTUNE. I beg your pardon, sir.

LUCAS. Well?

FORTUNE. It is pas' ze time for you to dress for dinner.

LUCAS. I'll come. [FORTUNE goes out.]

ST. OLPHERTS. When do we next meet, dear fellow?

LUCAS. No, no--please not again.

[Nella enters, excitedly.]

NELLA [ Speaking over her shoulder.] Si, Signora; ecco il Signore.

(Yes, Signora; her is the Signor.) [To Cleeve.] Scusi, Signore. Quando la vendra come e cara--! (Pardon, Signor, when you see her you'll see how sweet she looks--!) [Agnes's voice is heard.]

AGNES. [Outside.] Am I keeping you waiting, Lucas?

[She enters, handsomely gowned, her throat and arms bare, the fashion of her hair roughly altered. She stops abruptly upon seeing ST.

OLPHERTS; a strange light comes into her eyes; her voice, manner, bearing, all express triumph. The two men stare at her blankly. She appears to be a beautiful woman.]

AGNES. [To Nella.] Un pet.i.t chale noir tricote--cher-chez-le. [Nella withdraws.] Ah, you're not dressed, Lucas dear.

LUCAS. What--what time is it? [He goes towards the door, still staring at AGNES.]

ST. OLPHERTS. [Looking at her, and speaking in an altered tone.] I fear my gossiping has delayed him. You--you dine out?

AGNES. At the Grunwald. Why don't you join us? [Turning to Lucas, lightly.] Persuade him, Lucas. [LUCAS pauses at the door.]

ST. OLPHERTS. Er--impossible. Some--friends of mine may arrive tonight. [Lucas goes out.] I am more than sorry.