The Wolves And The Lamb Part 11

MILLIKEN.--Oh, you were minded to do it in Italy, were you?

MISS P.--Captain Touchit knew it, sir, all along: and that my motives and, thank G.o.d, my life were honorable.

MILLIKEN.--Oh, Touchit knew it, did he? and thought it honorable--honorable. Ha! ha! to marry a footman--and keep a public-house? I--I beg your pardon, John Howell--I mean nothing against you, you know. You're an honorable man enough, except that you have been d.a.m.ned insolent to my brother-in-law.

JOHN.--Oh, heaven! [JOHN strikes his forehead, and walks away.]

MISS P.--You mistake me, sir. What I wished to speak of was the fact which this gentleman has no doubt communicated to you--that I danced on the stage for three months.

MILLIKEN.--Oh, yes. Oh, damme, yes. I forgot. I wasn't thinking of that.

KICKLEBURY.--You see she owns it.

MISS P.--We were in the depths of poverty. Our furniture and lodging-house under execution--from which Captain Touchit, when he came to know of our difficulties, n.o.bly afterwards released us. My father was in prison, and wanted shillings for medicine, and I--I went and danced on the stage.

MILLIKEN.--Well?

MISS P.--And I kept the secret afterwards; knowing that I could never hope as governess to obtain a place after having been a stage-dancer.

MILLIKEN.--Of course you couldn't,--it's out of the question; and may I ask, are you going to resume that delightful profession when you enter the married state with Mr. Howell?

MISS P.--Poor John! it is not I who am going to--that is, it's Mary, the school-room maid.

MILLIKEN.--Eternal blazes! Have you turned Mormon, John Howell, and are you going to marry the whole house?

JOHN.--I made a ha.s.s of myself about Miss Prior. I couldn't help her being l--l--lovely.

KICK.--Gad, he proposed to her in my presence.

JOHN.--What I proposed to her, Cornet Clarence Kicklebury, was my heart and my honor, and my best, and my everything--and you--you wanted to take advantage of her secret, and you offered her indignities, and you laid a cowardly hand on her--a cowardly hand!--and I struck you, and I'd do it again.

MILLIKEN.--What? Is this true? [Turning round very fiercely to K.]

KICK.--Gad! Well--I only--

MILLIKEN.--You only what? You only insulted a lady under my roof--the friend and nurse of your dead sister--the guardian of my children. You only took advantage of a defenceless girl, and would have extorted your infernal pay out of her fear. You miserable sneak and coward!

KICK.--Hallo! Come, come! I say I won't stand this sort of chaff. Dammy, I'll send a friend to you!

MILLIKEN.--Go out of that window, sir. March! or I will tell my servant, John Howell, to kick you out, you wretched little scamp! Tell that big brute,--what's-his-name?--Lady Kicklebury's man, to pack this young man's portmanteau and bear's-grease pots; and if ever you enter these doors again, Clarence Kicklebury, by the heaven that made me!--by your sister who is dead!--I will cane your life out of your bones. Angel in heaven! Shade of my Arabella--to think that your brother in your house should be found to insult the guardian of your children!

JOHN.--By jingo, you're a good-plucked one! I knew he was, Miss,--I told you he was. [Exit, shaking hands with his master, and with Miss P., and dancing for joy. Exit CLARENCE, scared, out of window.]

JOHN [without].--Bulkeley! pack up the Capting's luggage!

MILLIKEN.--How can I ask your pardon, Miss Prior? In my wife's name I ask it--in the name of that angel whose dying-bed you watched and soothed--of the innocent children whom you have faithfully tended since.

MISS P.--Ah, sir! it is granted when you speak so to me.

MILLIKEN.--Eh, eh--d--don't call me sir!

MISS P.--It is for me to ask pardon for hiding what you know now: but if I had told you--you--you never would have taken me into your house--your wife never would.

MILLIKEN.--No, no. [Weeping.]

MISS P.--My dear, kind Captain Touchit knows it all. It was by his counsel I acted. He it was who relieved our distress. Ask him whether my conduct was not honorable--ask him whether my life was not devoted to my parents--ask him when--when I am gone.

MILLIKEN.--When you are gone, Julia! Why are you going? Why should you go, my love--that is--why need you go, in the devil's name?

MISS P.--Because, when your mother--when your mother-in-law come to hear that your children's governess has been a dancer on the stage, they will send me away, and you will not have the power to resist them. They ought to send me away, sir; but I have acted honestly by the children and their poor mother, and you'll think of me kindly when--I--am--gone?

MILLIKEN.--Julia, my dearest--dear--n.o.ble--dar--the devil! here's old Kicklebury.

Enter Lady K., Children, and CLARENCE.

LADY K.--So, Miss Prior! this is what I hear, is it? A dancer in my house! a serpent in my bosom--poisoning--yes, poisoning those blessed children! occasioning quarrels between my own son and my dearest son-in-law; flirting with the footman! When do you intend to leave, madam, the house which you have po--poll--luted?

MISS P.--I need no hard language, Lady Kicklebury: and I will reply to none. I have signified to Mr. Milliken my wish to leave his house.

MILLIKEN.--Not, not, if you will stay. [To Miss P.]

LADY K.--Stay, Horace! she shall NEVER stay as governess in this house!

MILLIKEN.--Julia! will you stay as mistress? You have known me for a year alone--before, not so well--when the house had a mistress that is gone. You know what my temper is, and that my tastes are simple, and my heart not unkind. I have watched you, and have never seen you out of temper, though you have been tried. I have long thought you good and beautiful, but I never thought to ask the question which I put to you now:--come in, sir! [to CLARENCE at door]:--now that you have been persecuted by those who ought to have upheld you, and insulted by those who owed you grat.i.tude and respect. I am tired of their domination, and as weary of a man's cowardly impertinence [to CLARENCE] as of a woman's jealous tyranny. They have made what was my Arabella's home miserable by their oppression and their quarrels. Julia! my wife's friend, my children's friend! be mine, and make me happy! Don't leave me, Julia!

say you won't--say you won't--dearest--dearest girl!

MISS P.--I won't--leave--you.

GEORGE [without].--Oh, I say! Arabella, look here: here's papa a-kissing Miss Prior!

LADY K.--Horace--Clarence my son! Shade of my Arabella! can you behold this horrible scene, and not shudder in heaven! Bulkeley! Clarence! go for a doctor--go to Doctor Straitwaist at the Asylum--Horace Milliken, who has married the descendant of the Kickleburys of the Conqueror, marry a dancing-girl off the stage! Horace Milliken! do you wish to see me die in convulsions at your feet? I writhe there, I grovel there.

Look! look at me on my knees! your own mother-in-law! drive away this fiend!

MILLIKEN.--Hem! I ought to thank you, Lady Kicklebury, for it is you that have given her to me.

LADY K.--He won't listen! he turns away and kisses her horrible hand.

This will never do: help me up, Clarence, I must go and fetch his mother. Ah, ah! there she is, there she is! [Lady K. rushes out, as the top of a barouche, with Mr. and Mrs. BONNINGTON and Coachman, is seen over the gate.]

MRS. B.--What is this I hear, my son, my son? You are going to marry a--a stage-dancer? you are driving me mad, Horace!

MILLIKEN.--Give me my second chance, mother, to be happy. You have had yourself two chances.

MRS. B.--Speak to him, Mr. Bonnington. [BONNINGTON makes dumb show.]

LADY K.--Implore him, Mr. Bonnington.

MRS. B.--Pray, pray for him, Mr. Bonnington, my love--my lost, abandoned boy!

LADY K.--Oh, my poor dear Mrs. Bonnington!