ACT II. THE NEXT MORNING.

Scene.—Dunn’s drawing-room, the opposite end to Act I. Conservatory with steps at back C. Bay window R. Plain window or blank piece above. Blank piece or Alcove L. Door above to Library. Table R. C. with chairs. Couch L. Footstool L. C. Screen is not on; is supposed to be at audience side of room. Piano against flat. Paper on table.

Helen up C. and Carrie at window R. dressed for walking; discovered interviewing Mary, up L. C.

Hel. Can you not tell us Mary, at what hour she came?

Mary. I don’t know, ma’am—I didn’t hear her come and I didn’t let her in.

Hel. You hear Carrie, he let her in himself.

Car. (R. C.) I don’t see why we should attach any importance to that!

Mary. No Ma’am, for she might have got in by herself; she is the strangest person I ever met, Ma’am.

Hel. In what way?

Hattie enters L., goes to couch, playing with mechanical toy.

Mary. Why, the name she gives things. She asked me at breakfast to hand her the Mazas, and when I didn’t understand her, she called me Helot, and pointed to the muffins.

Hat. If you’re talking about Miss Mifton, she is a treat. She’s got a new name for sausages.

Car. If she will only be good to the children.

Hat. You needn’t worry about that. If you’d seen the way she wept over them, and kissed and fondled them. And called them Hippicus and Alophagos.

Hel. (sternly) Who are they?

Hat. Oh, I didn’t like to ask—some connections of her own, perhaps.

Hel. No doubt! They are sufficiently outlandish; the idea of a Governess, wandering about the house in an extravagant tea gown; impertinence I call it.

Mary. I suppose we’re to take our orders from you as usual, Mum?

Hel. Yes! Certainly!

Mary. Thank ye! I don’t want to have that person lording it over me.

Mary exits L. D. with an indignant toss of her head.

Car. (R.) She’s no doubt one of those highly emotional creatures, who grow hysterical at almost anything.

Hel. (coming slightly forward) Carrie, you’re so confiding; such affectation wouldn’t suit me.

Car. But you always were superior to ordinary woman’s weakness.

Hat. Weakness! Oh, there’s no flipperty flop about Helen.

Hel. (advances towards Hattie) Hattie! When you are more like me, you will have more cause for self-respect.

Hat. Oh! I’ve nothing against myself as I am.

Car. When we return you must examine her Helen, and find out if she is competent to teach the children.

Hel. I will, but take my word for it, the Woman is a fraud. She knows nothing that is desirable. In knowledge and learning she is little better than an idiot; I could see that in her face last night.

Hat. Helen’s a judge of idiots.

Hel. Hattie! You’re growing more impudent every day.

Hat. Well, if I keep on, I’ll grow out of it.

Car. I wonder when Peter saw her at Chester that he wasn’t impressed with her appearance.

Hel. (with malicious meaning) Perhaps he was!

Car. She might be the advanced guard of a gang of thieves, and Peter has some such thought, perhaps, as he has not gone to the office.

Hel. Your confiding nature does you credit, Carrie, but you are too ingenuous. He may be actuated by motives far less praiseworthy.

Car. What do you mean, Helen?

Hel. I would not say Carrie, for I make it a rule never to stir up ill feeling between man and wife. (going up C.)

Enter Innings.

Inn. (on steps) Good morning, Ladies! Corney gone out yet?

Car. He is still engaged with his breakfast. He is always late after a Theatre night.

Carrie exits C. and R.

Hel. (severely and pointedly) His indolence is a source of great inconvenience to us all.

Helen exits C. and R. Innings looking at Hattie on sofa—crosses to window, putting hat on chair R. of table in recess of window, produces box of chocolates which he places ready for business later; then, half frightened, gets extreme R. at window.

Inn. (R.) They’re gone!

Hat. (on sofa) Yes! I see they are! You didn’t intend that for information did you? It was only—only just a something to say—to—fill up a page kind of remark, wasn’t it?

Inn. (at window) That’s all—simply to call your attention to the fact that we are alone.

Hat. Oh, you needn’t have called; my attention was rivetted;—but I don’t feel in the least embarrassed; do you?

Inn. No!

Hat. Well—why aren’t you embarrassed? (rises, coming to C.)

Inn. Don’t see what there is about you to frighten a fellow.

Hat. I don’t believe you’re so bold as you pretend; judging from the respectful distance you keep.

Inn. Don’t you want me to be respectful?

Hat. Why of course, but you needn’t be distant.

Inn. (crosses slowly to her) If I thought by coming nearer, I should be getting dearer——

Hat. Wouldn’t you be getting costly? You’re pretty near now!

Inn. (R. C.—getting closer to Hattie; Hat. bus.) So are you, Hattie. You’re pretty near and pretty far, but the nearer I am the sweeter you are. Ha! Ha!

Hat. Oh! You don’t flatter yourself much to think that your proximity makes me sweeter.

Sarcastically; turning from him.

Inn. To me! I mean in my opinion! Oh, Hattie!

Hat. (quickly) What is it, Philip? (whisking round)

Inn. (turning away) I wonder how long Corney usually takes over his breakfast.

Hat. Oh, I can go and ask him, if that’s all you want to know.

Hattie going up L.

Inn. (pulling her back by her dress; she in mischief runs for chair, trying to sit upon his hat, which he saves) Oh, Hattie! oh my! oh I—I don’t want to know particularly.

Corney enters quietly from Library up L., sees them and goes out again.

It’s good enough to stay here and go on wondering—with you. Of course—I don’t want to wonder by myself. Oh, Hattie!

Hat. Oh, Mr. Innings. (gushingly)

Innings, kneeling beside Hattie, embraces her; Corney sings outside; Hattie and Innings hurriedly get away from each other; Hattie goes and sits on couch L.; Innings goes extreme R. to window recess.

Corn. (entering L. and down C.; sings) “When the heart in palpitating is impressed with fear, You’re pleased to find a being where there’s no one near And whisper foolish nothings no one else may hear, That is love! That is love!”

Do you know, Phil, I’ve been haunted by that song ever since you started me at it; Hattie’s crazed on it too.

Hat. Oh, Corney! Why I’m only learning it.

Corn. Yes, but you’ve nearly mastered it I can see. (looks at Innings) I interrupted your practice, didn’t I?

Hat. (impertinently up in his face) I don’t understand.

Corn. (pushing her up C.) Oh, yes you do! See if you can find my cigar case in the Conservatory; I rather fancy I left it there last night.

Corney turns down stage L.; Innings gives Hattie box of chocolates quickly; as Corney turns on exclamation they separate.

Hat. Oh chocks! (to Innings) We can resume our conversation some other time, Mr. Innings.

Inn. I was going to ask you if we couldn’t, and will you please make a note of where we left off?

Hat. (sings) “And whisper foolish nothings no one else may hear. That is love! That is——” Ugh! (at Corney)

Innings stands up C. looking after Hattie, throwing kisses to her—echoes “That is love—That is——”

Corn. (after watching Innings, swings down stage near couch) Come here Phil! Never mind Hattie, she’ll keep. Anything fresh? Have you learnt anything new?

Inn. There’s nothing new to learn that I can see. Madeline Mifton’s here, and you’ve got to prepare for the worst. (lies on couch putting his legs up)

Corn. (C.) It is the most striking coincidence I ever heard of; that the sister of the girl I jilted should take the place of Governess, and come here, by the merest accident.

Inn. Do you suppose it was accident?

Corn. Oh, come Phil—you don’t think it was design?

Inn. I do! Didn’t I tell you last evening that she was coming to London to hunt you down!

Corn. Yes! But who could realize such persistency outside a Gaboriau Novel.

Inn. Have you seen her yet?

Corn. Not this morning—she’s in the nursery with the children. She’s very like her sister. There’s something weird about her, but the exact type of features. (crosses R. C.)

Inn. What do you intend to do? Have you made up your mind?

Corn. Yes! (crossing back to him) I’ve decided to get you to talk to her, Phil——

Inn. (sits up) Me?

Corn. You can give it her straight—show her clearly that I was cajoled into proposing to her sister, that it was really Ethel’s fault, and that she’s entirely to blame for the whole business, and there you are!

Inn. I couldn’t do it; it doesn’t seem nice to throw all the blame on to the girl.

Corn. It belongs to her, Phil—besides, my boy, you know that the least thing upsets me. I cannot stand worry; now you can; (Innings rises) you have one of those oxydised-zinc constitutions.

Inn. No, I haven’t! I’m just as susceptible to worry as you.

Corn. You mean to say you won’t do it?

Inn. No! I can’t!

Corn. You can’t?

Inn. (emphatically) No! Damn! there! I don’t see why I should. (crosses R. and round table)

Corn. Oh, well, then, Peter will have to do it. I’ll get Peter to talk to her. (goes L.)

Inn. (up R.) That’s the best way. He won’t mind.

Enter Dunn from Library L. D. with scent bottle, pale and careworn, crosses and sits on chair L. of table.

Corn. I’d rather you did it; because I shall have to disclose the whole escapade to Peter. And he hasn’t a particularly good opinion of me as it is.

Inn. I doubt if he could have a worse, so it can’t make much difference.

Corn. (seeing Dunn) Good morning, Peter—(Dunn scowls at him) Seen you before though, haven’t I? (to Innings) Peter looks jolly, doesn’t he? Innings, you’ll find Hattie in the Conservatory looking for my cigar case, which I have in my pocket.

Inn. All right! I’ll see if we can’t resume that conversation where you broke in on it; (sings) “And whisper foolish nothings, no one else may hear, That is love! That is——” (voice cracks)

Innings exits C. and R.

Corn. (after slight pause—looks at Dunn) Peter, old man! You don’t look well.

Dunn. I don’t feel well; I’ve been walking my room the whole of the night. I haven’t slept a wink.

Corn. Neither have I; but sleeplessness doesn’t break me up nearly so quickly as worry. I cannot stand worry; and that is why I want to speak with you about this new Governess.

Dunn. (startled) What! Why should there be any worry about the new Governess? (aside) Can he suspect——

Corn. It’s no use trying to disguise it, Peter, she is not what she seems.

Dunn. (amazed and frightened) Not what she——

Corn. She hasn’t come here to teach the children at all.

Dunn. (rising) Great goodness, how did he learn this! (aside)

Corn. It was hard to believe, but a good look at her face settled it; she’s the very image——

Dunn. Image! (aside) He knows all. (crosses L.)

Corn. I’m pretty shrewd Peter, and I suspect I’ve summed up the whole business.

Dunn. (aside) Oh! He’s not sure, then I won’t betray myself. I’ll brazen it out. (sits on couch)

Corn. (aside, down R. C.) If I could only induce him to get rid of her, without disclosing anything.

Dunn. (on sofa) I’ve told you before Corney, how wrong it is to jump to these conclusions; you may misjudge this woman and her purpose and object entirely, and, right or wrong, Corney, I’m blameless.

Corn. (aside) Ah! Peter knows she’s unpopular with the women and that the blame of engaging her will fall upon him. (fetching chair from table) That’s all very well with me, Peter! (puts chair near couch and sits astride it, facing audience.)

Dunn. (aside) With him! That means, at the worst I can buy him off!

Corn. But Helen and Carrie are prejudiced, and naturally perhaps. You can’t deny there is something uncanny about the woman.

Dunn. There is perhaps—a stony look about the eyes; but that will wear off.

Corn. It’s hard to believe that she is of the same clay as ourselves.

Dunn. Clay! She was never clay.

Corn. She might have been cast in a different mould.

Dunn. She’s not a casting at all—so——

Corn. Of course there’s no denying she’s beautiful. But I’ve a prejudice against these classic expressionless women; these cold blocks of marble.

Dunn. (as if paralyzed) Marble—you do know then——

Corn. (looks at Dunn quickly) I know what you ought to have known the moment you saw her, that she was not the sort of thing, that—that—it wouldn’t do to have her about the house.

Dunn. I did know it, Corney, and I have tried. I have tried to get her away, but I can’t.

Corn. Obdurate and unforgiving, eh? As I suspected; she has a heart of stone.

Dunn. Well, she had; of course that was changed with the other alterations.

Corn. (rises and puts chair back by table) What? She relents? She wavers in her purpose? Then let her go. The matter’s simple enough: pack her off!

Dunn. (rises) But I can’t! It’s all so brutal.

Corn. (with foot on stool) Oh, she’s told you the whole story, eh? but remember my version will put an entirely different light on it. And yet out of cold-blooded vindictiveness she comes here to ruin me with Bea and Sillocks.

Dunn. (putting foot on stool; looks puzzled at Corney—pause) Have you met her before? Have you got that former existence theory?

Corn. If you call a year ago a former existence! (Corney turns going R.)

Dunn. A year ago! (stumbles over stool)

Corn. Yes! When I broke off with her.

Dunn. Broke off! (aside) I didn’t notice she had anything missing.

Corn. Broke off my engagement with her sister.

Dunn. (perplexed) Whose sister?

Corn. Mifton’s sister, whom I met at Cambridge. (goes R.)

Dunn. (aside) He’s on the wrong tack; Heavens! What a pitfall I nearly fell into! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!

Dunn goes up C., laughing heartily.

Corn. (meeting Dunn up C.) Don’t laugh! Don’t laugh! I tell you——

Dunn. It’s too bad Corney, to let you indulge in all this unnecessary worry, but your fears are quite groundless. The new Governess, Madeline Mifton, never heard of you till last evening.

Corn. I know better, Peter! She came here in her sister’s interest, to hunt me down.

Dunn. Nothing of the kind.

Corn. I tell you I learnt, on the best of authority, that Madeline Mifton would certainly come here for the purpose of going for me. (crosses L.)

Dunn. (dropping into chair R. E.) Great goodness! I’m forgetting she will be here. The new Governess, and what will happen then? What will happen then?

Mary. (enters from Library L. U. E.) The Locksmith is in the Library Sir, to know what is to be done.

Dunn. (looking at audience as if for screen) Oh, the lock and staple for the screen; I’ll explain it to him, myself. Tell the Governess I wish to speak to her.

Mary exits C. and R. up steps.

Corn. (going up C.) No! Never mind, Peter—I’ll tackle her myself.

Dunn. (stopping him C.) What for? when I tell you there’s no occasion.

Corn. Well, I’m not so sure of that; and I’ll satisfy myself. There’s some mystery connected with her. And I’ll find out why and how she came; and all about her. (crosses R.)

Dunn. No! No! Don’t you meddle or you’ll ruin everything! (aside) He must not see Niobe till I have warned her. I’ll run and see that locksmith and hurry back. You remain quiet and I’ll find out if you have any cause for fear. Don’t interfere, or you’ll spoil everything. Leave her to me. She’s a peculiar woman, but I think I understand her. She’s a woman of the world undoubtedly, but a little after date. Leave her to me. Leave her to me!

Exit Dunn to Library L. D.

Corn. He seems so particularly anxious I should leave it to him, I don’t think it good enough; I would always rather that somebody else should manage any little unpleasantness for me, but I like to feel sure that they’re not working some little purpose of their own.

Enter Niobe C. and L. as if looking for some one; comes R.

Ah! Here she is—good morning, Miss Mifton!

Nio. (on steps, waving her hands) Hail to you! (comes down) Where is he whom they call master? The lord of this house?

Corn. (aside) Umph! A poetic blank verse kind of character—(aloud) Oh, Peter!

Nio. (fondly) Ah! Petramos!

Goes down L. in front of couch.

Corn. Yes, if you put it that way; he’ll be here in a moment, Miss Mifton. Make yourself at home; take a chair, be seated.

He goes to L. of table; his back to her as if to offer chair.

Nio. Nay, I am easier thus.

Flops on floor with head supported on footstool; Corney turns and sees her on floor; staggered! he puts up eye glass.

Corn. (aside) She’s a decidedly eccentric creature—I hardly know how to begin with her; (aloud—stooping down) I hope you find no trouble with the children.

Nio. To love is not a trouble, and they are so like Petramos.

Corn. (slight pause, he turns away slightly) She seems partial enough to Peter—(aloud—stooping down to her) Ahem! How—how did you come to hear of this place? Was it by accident—quite by chance you came here?

Nio. (looks round) By chance? Ah, yes!

Corn. Ah yes! You had no—(bends down—hurts back—gets chair from table, sits R., and stoops) You had no purpose beyond the ostensible—one—of occupying—the situation—you had—accepted. (speech disjointed and jerky)

Nio. Your speech is meaningless; to me but the empty rattle of a falling can.

Posing face in hands, elbows on stool.

Corn. (after regarding her suspiciously, turns to R.) She’s frank to a degree—(aloud—stooping) Ahem! You did not expect—you had no thought of finding me here?

Spoken in a conciliatory tone, trying to be agreeable.

Nio. (after regarding Corney disdainfully—perplexed) I’d rather Petramos should tell me what to say.

Corn. (rises and goes step to R.; aside) Can she have confided the affair to Peter, and is this just simplicity, or only cunning?

Nio. If you like best conversing with yourself, I shall not miss your chatter.

Corn. (quickly recovering himself) I beg your pardon! She isn’t such a fool; (sits again, crosses legs) Excuse me. You find a great change, I suppose?

Nio. Ah yes! All things are changed, even men are not as they were. Why do you hide your legs in those loose sleeves?

Corn. (looks at his trousers, tries to hide his legs—aside) She must have lived among the savages, she’s a Highlander perhaps! I thought you belonged to Cambridge.

Nio. I was born in Athens, but I left it when I married.

Corn. (R. C.) You are married then?

Nio. (beginning to cry) I was! Oh—Amphion! (cries on footstool)

Corn. Oh! I beg your pardon—your husband is dead? (stooping to speak to her)

Nio. More years than I can count. (sobbing)

Corn. Ah! You don’t look your age. She’s trying the idiotic dodge again. (stooping) Ahem! When did you—(gets twinge again with bending, puts away chair and fetches low occasional chair from back of stage, sits close to her and stoops) When did you see your sister last?

Nio. (sits up) At the Feast of Demeter, on the Temple steps.

Corn. Temple steps! Taking the Battersea boat perhaps! How did you leave her?

Nio. In sorrow. She had been early plighted to a young hoplite of Ithaca, named Aulakes.

Corn. Hoplite! A dancing master I suppose. It’s the first I’ve heard of this; she may betray more of Ethel’s secrets! (aloud) And what—(trying to get lower, and sees stool, Niobe sitting up, has left room for him, he steps over stool and sits) What became of the young fellow?

Nio. He fought throughout the war and fell in the last battle.

Corn. (aside—surprised) Ethel can’t be the Spring chicken I believed her. (aloud) You were younger than your sister?

Nio. Ah yes!

Corn. Ah yes—I can see a resemblance, but a difference; she might be called handsome—you’re pretty.

Nio. Why not? Mother was as fair as Helen.

Corn. Our Helen! Oh! I don’t think much of her as a beauty.

Enter Dunn hurriedly—he sees them, when he reaches C., falls into low chair.

Nio. (rises on one knee as she sees Peter) Ah! Here is Petramos! And I no longer wish to talk with you.

Niobe rises and goes L.; Peter affects indifference.

Corn. (rises) That’s straight, anyway, but what she can see in Peter beats me.

Dunn. (to Corney) You didn’t say anything to her?

Corn. No, no! I’ve left it to you! (goes up, putting back chair)

Nio. (coming towards Dunn C.) He has perplexed and frightened me with questions.

Dunn. (C., turning to Corney R.) Now I thought——

Corn. (replacing other chair) No, no! Merely ordinary courtesies.

Nio. (very affectionately) I have no fear of him now you are here.

Putting her arms round Dunn’s neck as he turns; Corney, coming forward, sees them and affects to be greatly shocked, hiding face with newspaper.

Dunn. (perplexed and affecting light indifference, trying to get away from her) Of course not, there is nothing to be afraid of. (to Corney) She’s so timid, you see Corney, she—she—seems to think everyone is against her.

Niobe looks up, their faces close together.

Corn. (down C.) She doesn’t seem to mind you, Peter!

Dunn. No, she’s quite taken to me, and if there is anything, Corney, I’ll find out for you. She’ll tell me!

As Dunn turns from Niobe going towards Corney, she keeps him back with her arms still round his neck. He breaks away and she goes L.—Dunn R.

Corn. Well, I’ll leave her to you—(goes up L. C.) I confess I don’t know what to make of her; she doesn’t seem the kind of person to undertake such a mission; a resuscitated mummy couldn’t appear more ignorant of the world’s ways. (aloud) Peter! Peter! Hail to you!

Corney exits centre to R.

Nio. (following him up, looks off L., then turns to Dunn) Have you resolved truth shall be told, and all disclosed, Petramos?

Dunn. Truth! no! I took a feeler at that; it isn’t to be thought of.

Nio. (going R. C. towards Dunn) As my lord says—it would be well, then, to hire some slave to murder him that’s gone! (mysteriously pointing off L.)

Dunn. Murder Corney! What for?

Nio. He will betray.

Dunn. He can’t—he doesn’t know!

Nio. But he suspects!

Dunn. Suspects the truth! Ridiculous! There may be, well there are—suspicions—but they’ll never take that form; and the only difficulty is to keep up something that’s possible of belief till we can provide for you, or hear from your friends. (R. of table)

Nio. (on steps C.) Alas! have I in all the world a friend?

Dunn. (L. H.) I suppose not! We might go round electrifying all the Art museums; on the off chance; there may be friends of yours in Greece, if you could only go back to Greece, and burrow for them. (sits R.)

Nio. (coming back of table) Zeus! How desolate I am—(to Dunn) Your only thought is to be rid of me. (weeps on table)

Dunn. (R. of table) She’s at it again! No, I don’t wish to be rid of you; if I could only see some way to manage it—I should be glad for you to remain.

Nio. (raising her head) Could I not stay then, as your wife?

Dunn. Umph! If I wasn’t already suited. I’ve told you I have a wife?

Nio. But one! The law of Thebes allows two wives.

Dunn. But the law of England doesn’t; and I should consider it a dangerous experiment if it did; besides there are other interests in the concern. My wife would be sure to object; and her sister would howl with indignation. (crosses L., up stage in fear of interruption.)

Nio. The sour face! (R. C.) We could invoke the gods to strike her dumb.

Dunn. The gods don’t amount to a row of pins, or I should have put ’em on to Helen long ago! (Dunn sits on footstool C.) You’re the Governess, that’s what they’ve been told and that’s what we have to keep up; till we can make other arrangements.

Nio. Say clearly then, what is a Governess?

Dunn. Oh! a Governess; a Governess, is one who governs, according to the orders of those who govern her; you must try to keep up an appearance of meekness and servility.

Nio. For what?

Dunn. Because you won’t be allowed to govern unless you do.

Nio. (with dignity) I am a Queen.

Dunn. Yes, but you got lost in the shuffle!

Nio. And my duties?

Dunn. To trot out the children, and pretend to teach, but above all cringe to Helen—say “yes Ma’am”—always—“Yes Ma’am.”

Nio. (proudly) “Yes Ma’am,” only that, “yes Ma’am?”

Dunn. (rising) Yes—but not in that way, mind the tone, humbly; “Yes Ma’am.” (in a nasal tone and with a bob curtsey)

Nio. (after wonderingly regarding Dunn, imitates Dunn’s manner) “Yes Ma’am!”

Dunn. That’s better, and don’t call me Petramos, but, Master, “the Master,” and above all, don’t forget to be obsequious to Helen. Agree with the old cat in all things, that’s very important. (Dunn goes up L., watching)

Nio. I shall remember—(goes to window R., looks out and appears delighted) Ah see! See! The crowd! The populace are out! Why do they hurry so? There is no dignity in all this haste.

Dunn. (sitting on couch L.) They’re not out for dignity, there’s no money in it; we haven’t time for dignity now-a-days.

Nio. (goes back to window) Look! See! What are those strange chariots?

Dunn. Chariots? (crossing to look out) Oh! cabs! Growlers! Growlers! They are called Growlers!

Nio. (following Dunn to C.) Growlers! Growlers!! Oh, could they not be changed?

Dunn. I’ll see what can be done in the matter—(Niobe goes back to window) Go up to the nursery now, the children will be getting anxious about you.

Nio. (at window R.) Look! Look Ixion; the man upon the wheel.

Dunn. Where! Oh, a boy on a bicycle! Do go!

Postman’s knock is heard thrice.

Nio. (coming out again) Why does he do that, is the man a Herald?

Dunn. No, a letter carrier—the postman! Postman!

Nio. Postman! (pleased) Ah! The Postman! (amused at the sound, repeats “Postman” as she goes to window)

Dunn. If she’s so struck on the postman, what will it be when she sees a policeman!

Nio. Oh, how they sway! Could not someone teach them how to walk? The Maidens waddle, like web-footed cranes.

Imitating a modern walk to L. corner.

Dunn. Yes! You’ve got it, that’s it (Niobe hurrying back to window, Dunn stops her) Look at ’em another time—go to the nursery now, and if the ladies, my wife or her sister, send for you, do be careful. (putting her up L. C.)

Nio. (returns) I will bring the children and show how much they love me.

Dunn. (R. C.) No, no! They’re not allowed in here.

Nio. (L. C.) Why, are they not yours?

Dunn. Yes, but I never attempt to prejudice them in my favour, I’ll explain to you another time, when I’m not so busy; I have to telegraph the real governess, to stop away, or we are ruined.

Nio. I don’t know Telegraph—what is it, Petramos?

Dunn. Why—oh—it’s a machine—er—on which you tick, tick, tick, tick at one end, and the same tick ticks are heard at the other end, and the tick ticks tell whatever you are thinking, to the party you’re tick, tick, ticking to.

Nio. Oh Petramos! you treat me like a child. Am I so foolish that you mock my ignorance?

Weeps and falls on Dunn’s shoulder, embracing him; Carrie and Helen enter at back C.

Dunn. She’s at it again. Don’t cry—there’s no money in it. I wasn’t fooling you. Cheer up! there’s a darling. (stroking her hair) Poor little woman! (Carrie down R.; Dunn sees her, pretends not to see her) My dear young lady, you shall be treated with every kindness, my wife is gentleness itself. I’m sure if my wife were here—oh, you are there, Caroline.

Car. (R., indignantly) Yes, I am here!

Dunn. Come to this poor girl, she’s homesick.

Hel. (coming down L.) And needs consolation, I observe.

At the sound of Helen’s voice Niobe recoils, back centre.

Miss Mifton, will you leave us?

Nio. Not at your bidding! If he, the Master, bids me go, I go—not else. I wait his orders.

Hel. (crossing R. C. to Carrie) You’ll find mine are the orders that are observed in this household, and you must obey them if you wish to stay with us.

Nio. You can’t suppose I wish to stay with you. (Dunn has gone up and is now L.—to Dunn) You Pet—the Master—is the ruler here.

Car. (in great tribulation; to Helen) She called him pet.

Dunn. (crossing back of Niobe R. C.) Yes! yes! but I never interfere in domestic matters. Mrs. Dunn’s sister manages everything. (aside as he goes back L.) Don’t forget what I told you; be obsequious.

Nio. Ah, that’s well remembered. (to Helen) I had forgotten; I am to be obsequious to you; Yes Ma’am—and cringe to you—“Yes Ma’am!” It was the master’s wish—agree with the old cat in all things, yes Ma’am!

Niobe backing up stage with speech, turns and exits C. and R.

Car. (goes up C., looks after Niobe—then down C.—to Dunn, who in desperation is strumming on the piano) So Peter! you are prompting her to deceit.

Dunn. (L.) Deceit, my dear! What! Where’s the deceit? (Carrie indignant, crosses R.)

Hel. (coming C.) It’s true there was little show of confusion, in spite of the indelicacy of the situation.

Dunn. What indelicacy? The poor girl required soothing, and no wonder; you’d make a china dog homesick.

Hel. It did not take you long to acquire an interest in this person.

Dunn. What d’ye mean by acquiring an interest? She’s not a joint stock company!

Car. (R.) Oh, Peter, and we thought it was illness kept you at home.

Dunn. (crossing to Carrie) Carrie! My dear!

Hel. But it’s obvious now why you stayed away from the office.

Car. And she is no prettier than I.

Hel. Some men are captivated by impudence.

Dunn. (between them) It’s a wonder you’ve remained single, so long.

Hel. I have too constant a reminder before me of the mistake of married life, ever to venture.

Dunn. Oh! The venture would be—on the other side: you run no risk!

Car. You must admit, Peter, that this woman, the new governess——

Dunn impatient, with an exclamation, crosses R. to window.

Hel. Carrie, don’t make foolish remarks you may be sorry for; to say too much is to put him on his guard. Come—(puts Carrie over) to your room—not a word—you’re excited. I’ll keep an eye on this Miss Mifton.

Exits, following Carrie L. D.

Dunn. (taking stage R. to L.; kicking stool away) Where will it end? What am I to do? (sitting on couch) Send off that infernal Telegram to the real governess. She must be detained where she is for the present, and bought off; I shall have to go to Leamington, see her, and bribe her to take some other engagement, and I don’t know how I am to do it!

Enter Innings C. R.

Inn. (coming down) If I can find Corney——

Dunn. (aside) Ah! Innings! Here’s the very man! (Dunn shakes Inning’s hand bringing him down on his R.) Innings, how are you—glad to see you! I don’t know that I ever met a man that I took to more readily than I did to you.

Inn. (R. C.) Ha! Ha! Well! What favour do you want me to do for you?

Dunn. Favour! Oh! I wanted you to travel.

Inn. Travel?

Dunn. Yes! It isn’t far! You have lots of time on your hands.

Inn. (R. C.) I don’t travel on my hands! I couldn’t go to-day. To-morrow early, if you like?

Dunn. (L. C.) It would be better to-day, but to-morrow will do.

Inn. Have I nothing to do but travel? Isn’t there an object?

Dunn. Oh yes! I can trust you I know. I want you to go to Leamington for me, to see a Miss Mifton, who is coming here as governess.

Inn. Coming! I thought she was here!

Dunn. Eh! Oh no! This is another one, she’s not the same—that is a different one to the other. There are lots of them at this time of year; the woods are full of ’em.

Inn. Of what?

Dunn. Miftons! (going across R.) I’m getting so muddled, I have to send a telegram—I’ll explain as we go. Give me your arm. (going up C. arm in arm) I’m bilious—I mean I’m weak this morning. I—oh this deception—there’s no money in it.

Enter Beatrice C. from R., as Dunn and Innings are going up.

Inn. Good morning, Miss Sillocks!

Dunn. Good morning, Bea. Have you stepped in to see Hattie? (calls) Hattie! Hattie! (turning round with Innings on his arm) You’ll find her in the Telegraph office—back in a jiffey! Where are you Innings? (turning) Oh, there you are. Come along!

Dunn exits with Innings C. and R.

Bea. (down R.) Something has excited him.

Hattie enters L. D.

Hat. Good morning, Bea!

Bea. (kissing her) Good morning, dear. How are the babies?

Hat. Flourishing! You look quite serious this morning! What’s the matter, Bea?

Bea. (R. C.) I have had a shock.

Hat. (C.) Galvanic?

Bea. No, no! Well, an unpleasantness—a letter.

Hat. It wasn’t from Corney then?

Bea. No! From a Miss Mifton!

Hat. Madeline Mifton? Why it’s our new governess!

Bea. (goes C.) But she writes from Chester. See! there’s the postmark.

Hat. (looking) Why, it’s three weeks old; been all over the country, misdirected! What’s in it?

Bea. She has seen something of my intended marriage with Corney in some of the Society papers, and asks for his address.

Hat. That is suspicious, isn’t it? But I dare say Corney can explain. (aside) He’s good at explaining—(aloud) I wouldn’t let it worry me.

Bea. I will not, if Corney assures me I’ve no reason to mistrust.

Hat. Oh, he’ll do that! Did you find out if it’s true that Peter had a sister?

Bea. Oh yes! Papa says Mr. Dunn’s sister is a most charming person.

Hat. Fancy that! and I never even heard of her; that’s Helen’s doings—(Helen speaks off) Mum! She’s here.

Hattie and Beatrice go L. to couch, as Helen and Carrie enter L. D.

Hel. (C.) Good morning, Miss Sillocks! How is your Papa?

Hat. Do tell, Bea. Helen has great interest in your papa, he’s a widower;—and Helen is “nuts” on widowers.

Hel. Hattie! Tell the new Governess we wish to see her.

Hat. (L.) Don’t get excited Bea. She is pretty, but I don’t believe she’s Corney’s kind.

Hattie exits up steps C. and R.

Car. (crossing R.) We have engaged a Miss Mifton to superintend the children’s education; but Helen has doubts as to her competency.

Hel. It will not take five minutes to satisfy ourselves; I’ll put a few questions to her, and if she cannot answer them satisfactorily a fortnight’s wages, in lieu of notice, will have to satisfy her. (sitting R. C., front of table; Carrie sits R. of Helen)

Enter Hattie C. from R., Niobe following; Hattie goes down L. to Bea.; Niobe C., top of steps.

Bea. What a lovely woman! Oh, Hattie! I believe Corney has been in love with her.

Hat. Oh, nonsense!

Nio. (on steps) Hail to you!

Hattie and Bea. on couch; all surprised; Niobe advances.

Car. Sit down, Miss Mifton!

Nio. Thank you! I am not tired, and stand to take mine ease.

Hel. I wish to ask you a few questions, Miss Mifton, to see if you are capable of the training and instruction of the young. You write and cypher, of course? I need not ask?

Nio. (standing C.) I would not then. Why speak of what is needless!

Hel. (after business of looking at Niobe) What is your definition of Geography?

Nio. It matters not since I am authorized—to bow my will to yours; what you would have it—say—and that it is.

Helen turns and looks at Carrie.

Hat. (laughing) Just the thing for you Helen; you can have it all your own way, (an educational Phonograph). You breathe in what is to be learned, and she’ll breathe it out again.

Hel. (R. C.—to Carrie) This sounds like prevarication. (to Niobe) You would not have me describe the divisions of the land and sea; tell you the names of the Continents.

Nio. Oh, yes, I would; that is, if you know them.

Hel. Know them——

Helen rising—Carrie calms and soothes Helen, who again sits.

Hat. Ha! Ha! She doesn’t! She doesn’t!

Car. Hattie! Do not interrupt the examination.

Hel. (re-seated) It’s not a question of what I know, Miss Mifton, I’ll undertake to say, you don’t know what a Continent is? (pause) You don’t!

Nio. (C.) I don’t! I was to agree with you in all things.

Hel. If I asked you to name the Capital of Norway or the location of the Red Sea, what would you say?

Nio. (at a loss—pauses—then in imitation of Dunn’s voice, curtseying) Yes Ma’am!

Hel. Do you call that an answer? (rises angrily—Carrie soothes her)

Nio. Yes Ma’am! (Helen sits again)

Bea. She looks intelligent; this must be all pretence.

Car. She has better knowledge, perhaps, of home affairs.

Hel. (seated) What was the cause of the last War?

Nio. (C., confidently) A quarrel which broke out, upon the rights of which I would not speak, for it was ended nearly when I was born.

Hel. (turns slightly from Niobe) We don’t want to know your age.

Hat. How many years did it last?

Nio. Ten!

Hat. Oh, she is a treat!

Hel. Be quiet, Hattie! Can you play the Piano?

Nio. I cannot tell you that, for I have never tried.

Hel. That’s meant for impudence, I suppose.

Nio. (confused—curtseying) Yes Ma’am!

Hel. (rising) You must be an idiot, or it is possible, you believe me one?

Nio. (curtseying) Yes Ma’am!

Hattie laughing; Helen frowns, falls into seat; Carrie rises; enter Dunn C., endeavours to get off L., meets Corney from L. D.; Dunn comes down L. of Niobe; Corney down L. to Bea. and Hattie; Beatrice afterwards shows Corney letter, Corney protesting in pantomime.

Car. Peter! Peter! this girl appears to be ignorant on every subject!

Dunn. (L. C.) Why, of course, if you’ve been asking her things she doesn’t know!

Hel. (seated) She won’t do, Peter. Her mind is a complete blank.

Dunn. (crossing to Helen) Yes! On trivial modern accomplishments, perhaps, but—have you asked her anything about Ancient history?

Hel. No!

Dunn. Have you spoken Greek to her?

Hel. No!

Dunn. I thought not! Even you don’t know everything. (as Dunn turns to Niobe, she tries to embrace him; he avoids her, and crosses quickly to Corney) Corney, ask her something about Ancient history; the more Ancient the better.

Corn. (L.) I’ve forgotten all I ever knew.

Dunn. That doesn’t matter, she’ll answer you all right!

Corn. Where was Homer born?

Nio. In Scios!

Dunn. There you see! First go!

Corn. (L. H.) What were the—er—names of the nine Muses?

Nio. (C.) Clio, Calliope, Euterpe, Erato, Melpomene, Polyhymnia, Terpsichore, Thalia, Urania.

Dunn. (crossing to Helen) Cyclopædias! What more do you want?

Hel. (facing audience) What good will it do the children to know the names of the Muses?

Dunn. (R. C.) Oh, I beg your pardon! We don’t pay enough attention to Ancient history now-a-days. (Dunn crosses again to Corney, L.) Corney, speak Greek to her.

Hattie and Beatrice have gone up C.

Corn. Can’t! “Hoi polloi” is the only expression I remember.

Dunn. Well, go on, give her that!

Corn. Hoi polloi!

Dunn. Hoi polly! Give her time—now—give her time——

Hel. She is no use whatever! She can’t even play the Piano.

Hat. (L. C.) How do you know! She has never tried.

Hattie exits laughing, with Beatrice C. and R.

Dunn. (comes down L. C.) Well, if she can’t, the Piano is not so very desirable for young children; and she may be great on the Triangle or the Jew’s harp.

Corn. And no doubt Miss Mifton will soon learn if you insist on it. (aside) I must keep the right side of her.

Hel. (rises) Absurd! She has not the intelligence of an insect.

Nio. (C.) It is not a necessity, for I am beautiful. It is such as you who need intelligence.

Corn. Phew! That’s a facer!

Hel. (rises fiercely) Minx! How dare you!

Nio. (clinging to Dunn as she recoils from Helen, to L. of Dunn) Petramos! I ask protection from this Medusa!

Dunn. Of course! Yes! Helen, you’re too severe.

Nio. (L. C., rising) Helen! Ah! Like her of Troy, at whom the finger of scandal pointed. (pose, as if denouncing Helen)

Hel. It is false! The story is untrue!

Car. Be calm, Helen!

Dunn turns up C., back to audience, shaking with laughter.

Hel. (R. C.) How dare you hint at scandal against me; but such innuendos will not deter me. Peter! This woman leaves this house, or I do!

Nio. (L. C.) Then there is little doubt which of us two will go. He’d sooner fifty fold, that I should stay.

Dunn. (turning round C.) I must endorse that truism, if it ruins me. I would! Damme! there! (turns again up stage)

Hel. Caroline, you hear!

Car. (R. C.) Peter, after this you must see that it is absolutely necessary for this person to depart.

Carrie sobs in Helen’s arms.

Corn. Confound Helen! Mifton will be on to me next.

Enter Innings from L. D., drops down L.

Hel. (R. C.) Carrie, you have been patient and long suffering, but there is a limit.

Dunn. (C.) Yes! There is a limit. And you’ve gone it. It’s my say now, and I am reckless, and may raise the devil!

Nio. (kneeling and clinging to him) Petramos, restrain! Be merciful! Invoke not now the curses of the gods!

Dunn. Oh, hang the gods! Be quiet, you only make things worse!

Nio. (bursting into tears, rising and falling on Dunn’s neck) Oh, Petramos!

Carrie sees the situation, and sobs loudly.

Dunn. (C.) She’s at it again!

Corn. It’s a shame—poor girl—why——

Inn. (aside to Corney) Don’t waste your superfluous sympathies, that is not Miss Mifton at all.

Corn. What! Can it be the women are right in their suspicions? What a blackguard Peter is!

Hel. (embracing Carrie) When you have finished comforting that shameless creature, you may observe your wife needs consolation.

Dunn. Certainly! Corney! comfort my wife, can’t you?

Corn. (L. of Niobe) Don’t try to make me a party to your vile intrigues! (goes to L. corner)

Dunn. What’s come to you? (Dunn tries to get at Corney, but turns back to Carrie) Listen to me, Carrie! I admit circumstances are——

Car. Go away! I never wish to speak to you again!

They go up C.; Dunn going L.; Carrie R.

Hel. (R., to Niobe) Begone, Hussy! Leave the House!

Nio. (C.) Not at your bidding. Petramos is lord, and Petramos decrees that I abide with him! (as if going to Dunn)

Omnes. (strong) Oh, Peter!!! (Niobe gets over R., up stage)

Dunn. (wildly excited, coming down R. C.) In a sense, Miss Mifton is right. She came here with an irreproachable character and the highest references, and as the Master of the house, knowing nothing to her discredit, I am responsible for her. Miss Mifton is here and for the present must remain. (goes to R. of Corney)

Hat. (who has entered C. and has tried to get a word with Dunn, taking up Dunn’s tone) That’s what I tell her, but she insists it can’t be.

Hel. Of whom are you speaking?

Hat. The lady here, who is asking for Mr. Dunn.

Dunn. (L. C.; facing audience) What lady? What’s her business? Who is she?

Turns and confronts Miss Mifton, who has entered C. and just reached L. C.

Mift. The new Governess, Miss Mifton!

Niobe advances R. C. close to Miss Mifton, who turns and recognises her dress.

Dunn. (L. C.) The other Mifton!

Corn. (L.) Another Mifton!

Ladies. Two Miftons! What infamy! (together)

Niobe and Miss Mifton stand looking at each other; Niobe doing her usual action of “Hail to you!” Picture of consternation and surprise, by other characters as curtain falls.

QUICK CURTAIN.

N. B.—No Second Picture. Company Call.