I. You have altered your mind about going out?

I. You have altered your mind about going out?

PAULA.

Yes. Please to ring the bell.

AUBREY.

[_Touching the bell._] You are angry about Mrs. Cortelyon and Ellean. Let me try to explain my reasons----

PAULA.

Be careful what you say to me just now! I have never felt like this--except once--in my life. Be careful what you say to me!

_A_ SERVANT _enters._

PAULA.

[_Rising._] Is Watts at the door with the cart?

SERVANT.

Yes, ma'am.

PAULA.

Tell him to drive down to the post-office directly, with this.

[_Picking up the letter which has been lying upon the table._

AUBREY.

With that?

PAULA.

Yes. My letter to Lady Orreyed.

[_Giving the letter to the_ SERVANT, _who goes out._

AUBREY.

Surely you don't wish me to countermand any order of yours to a servant? Call the man back--take the letter from him!

PAULA.

I have not the slightest intention of doing so.

AUBREY.

I must, then. [_Going to the door. She snatches up her hat and coat and follows him._] What are you going to do?

PAULA.

If you stop that letter, walk out of the house.

[_He hesitates, then leaves the door._

AUBREY.

I am right in believing that to be the letter inviting George Orreyed and his wife to stay here, am I not?

PAULA.

Oh yes--quite right.

AUBREY.

Let it go; I'll write to him by-and-by.

PAULA.

[_Facing him._] You dare!

AUBREY.

Hush, Paula!

PAULA.

Insult me again and, upon my word, I'll go straight out of the house!

AUBREY.

Insult you?

PAULA.

Insult me! What else is it? My God! what else is it? What do you mean by taking Ellean from me?

AUBREY.

Listen----!

PAULA.

Listen to _me_! And how do you take her? You pack her off in the care of a woman who has deliberately held aloof from me, who's thrown mud at me! Yet this Cortelyon creature has only to put foot here once to be entrusted with the charge of the girl you know I dearly want to keep near me!

AUBREY.

Paula dear! hear me----!

PAULA.

Ah! of course, of course! I can't be so useful to your daughter as such people as this; and so I'm to be given the go-by for any town friend of yours who turns up and chooses to patronise us! Hah! Very well, at any rate, as you take Ellean from me you justify my looking for companions where I can most readily find 'em.

AUBREY.

You wish me to fully appreciate your reason for sending that letter to Lady Orreyed?

PAULA.

Precisely--I do.

AUBREY.

And could you, after all, go back to associates of that order? It's not possible!

PAULA.

[_Mockingly._] What, not after the refining influence of these intensely respectable surroundings? [_Going to the door._] We'll see!

AUBREY.

Paula!

PAULA.

[_Violently._] We'll see!

[_She goes out. He stands still looking after her._

THE THIRD ACT

_The drawing-room at "Highercoombe." Facing the spectator are two large French windows, sheltered by a verandah, leading into the garden; on the right is a door opening into a small hall. The fireplace, with a large mirror above it, is on the left-hand side of the room, and higher up in the same wall are double doors recessed. The room is richly furnished, and everything betokens taste and luxury. The windows are open, and there is moonlight in the garden._

LADY ORREYED, _a pretty, affected doll of a woman with a mincing voice and flaxen hair, is sitting on the ottoman, her head resting against the drum, and her eyes closed._ PAULA, _looking pale, worn, and thoroughly unhappy, is sitting at a table. Both are in sumptuous dinner-gowns._

LADY ORREYED.

[_Opening her eyes._] Well, I never! I dropped off! [_Feeling her hair._] Just fancy! Where are the men?

PAULA.

[_Icily._] Outside, smoking.

_A_ SERVANT _enters with coffee, which he hands to_ LADY ORREYED. SIR GEORGE ORREYED _comes in by the window. He is a man of about thirty-five, with a low forehead, a receding chin, a vacuous expression, and an ominous redness about the nose._

LADY ORREYED.

[_Taking coffee._] Here's Dodo.

SIR GEORGE.

I say, the flies under the verandah make you swear. [_The_ SERVANT _hands coffee to_ PAULA, _who declines it, then to_ SIR GEORGE, _who takes a cup._] Hi! wait a bit! [_He looks at the tray searchingly, then puts back his cup._] Never mind. [_Quietly to_ LADY ORREYED.] I say, they're dooced sparin' with their liqueur, ain't they?

[_The_ SERVANT _goes out at window._

PAULA.

[_To_ SIR GEORGE.] Won't you take coffee, George?

SIR GEORGE.

No, thanks. It's gettin' near time for a whisky and potass. [_Approaching_ PAULA, _regarding_ LADY ORREYED _admiringly._] I say, Birdie looks rippin' to-night, don't she?

PAULA.

Your wife?

SIR GEORGE.

Yaas--Birdie.

PAULA.

Rippin'?

SIR GEORGE.

Yaas.

PAULA.

Quite--quite rippin'.

[_He moves round to the settee._ PAULA _watches him with distaste, then rises and walks away._ SIR GEORGE _falls asleep on the settee._

LADY ORREYED.

Paula love, I fancied you and Aubrey were a little more friendly at dinner. You haven't made it up, have you?

PAULA.

We? Oh, no. We speak before others, that's all.

LADY ORREYED.

And how long do you intend to carry on this game, dear?

PAULA.

[_Turning away impatiently._] I really can't tell you.

LADY ORREYED.

Sit down, old girl; don't be so fidgety. [PAULA _sits on the upper seat of the ottoman with her back to_ LADY ORREYED.] Of course, it's my duty, as an old friend, to give you a good talking-to--[PAULA _glares at her suddenly and fiercely._]--but really I've found one gets so many smacks in the face through interfering in matrimonial squabbles that I've determined to drop it.

PAULA.

I think you're wise.

LADY ORREYED.

However, I must say that I do wish you'd look at marriage in a more solemn light--just as I do, in fact. It is such a beautiful thing--marriage, and if people in our position don't respect it, and set a good example by living happily with their husbands, what can you expect from the middle classes? When did this sad state of affairs between you and Aubrey actually begin?

PAULA.

Actually, a fortnight and three days ago; I haven't calculated the minutes.

LADY ORREYED.

A day or two before Dodo and I turned up--arrived.

PAULA.

Yes. One always remembers one thing by another; we left off speaking to each other the morning I wrote asking you to visit us.

LADY ORREYED.

Lucky for you I was able to pop down, wasn't it, dear?

PAULA.

[_Glaring at her again._] Most fortunate.

LADY ORREYED.

A serious split with your husband without a pal on the premises--I should say, without a friend in the house--would be most unpleasant.

PAULA.

[_Turning to her abruptly._] This place must be horribly doleful for you and George just now. At least you ought to consider him before me. Why don't you leave me to my difficulties?

LADY ORREYED.

Oh, we're quite comfortable, dear, thank you--both of us. George and me are so wrapped up in each other, it doesn't matter where we are. I don't want to crow over you, old girl, but I've got a perfect husband.

[SIR GEORGE _is now fast asleep, his head thrown back and his mouth open, looking hideous._

PAULA.

[_Glancing at_ SIR GEORGE.] So you've given me to understand.

LADY ORREYED.

Not that we don't have our little differences. Why, we fell out only this very morning. You remember the diamond and ruby tiara Charley Prestwick gave poor dear Connie Tirlemont years ago, don't you?

PAULA.

No, I do not.

LADY ORREYED.

No? Well, it's in the market. Benjamin of Piccadilly has got it in his shop-window, and I've set my heart on it.

PAULA.

You consider it quite necessary?

LADY ORREYED.

Yes, because what I say to Dodo is this--a lady of my station must smother herself with hair ornaments. It's different with you, love--people don't look for so much blaze from you, but I've got rank to keep up; haven't I?

PAULA.

Yes.

LADY ORREYED.

Well, that was the cause of the little set-to between I and Dodo this morning. He broke two chairs, he was in such a rage. I forgot, they're your chairs; do you mind?

PAULA.

No.

LADY ORREYED.

You know, poor Dodo can't lose his temper without smashing something; if it isn't a chair, it's a mirror; if it isn't that, it's china--a bit of Dresden for choice. Dear old pet! he loves a bit of Dresden when he's furious. He doesn't really throw things _at_ me, dear; he simply lifts them up and drops them, like a gentleman. I expect our room upstairs will look rather wrecky before I get that tiara.

PAULA.

Excuse the suggestion, perhaps your husband can't afford it.

LADY ORREYED.

Oh, how dreadfully changed you are, Paula! Dodo can always mortgage something, or borrow of his ma. What _is_ coming to you!

PAULA.

Ah!

[_She sits at the piano and touches the keys._

LADY ORREYED.

Oh, yes, do play! That's the one thing I envy you for.

PAULA.

What shall I play?

LADY ORREYED.

What was that heavenly piece you gave us last night, dear?

PAULA.

A bit of Schubert. Would you like to hear it again?

LADY ORREYED.

You don't know any comic songs, do you?

PAULA.

I'm afraid not.

LADY ORREYED.

I leave it to you, then.

[PAULA _plays._ AUBREY _and_ CAYLEY DRUMMLE _appear outside the window; they look into the room._

AUBREY.

[_To_ DRUMMLE. ] You can see her face in that mirror. Poor girl, how ill and wretched she looks.

DRUMMLE.

When are the Orreyeds going?

AUBREY.

Heaven knows!

[_Entering the room._

DRUMMLE.

But _you're_ entertaining them; what's it to do with Heaven?

[_Following_ AUBREY.

AUBREY.

Do you know, Cayley, that even the Orreyeds serve a useful purpose? My wife actually speaks to me before our guests--think of that! I've come to rejoice at the presence of the Orreyeds!

DRUMMLE.

I daresay; we're taught that beetles are sent for a benign end.

AUBREY.

Cayley, talk to Paula again to-night.

DRUMMLE.

Certainly, if I get the chance.

AUBREY.

Let's contrive it. George is asleep; perhaps I can get that doll out of the way. [_As they advance into the room,_ PAULA _abruptly ceases playing and finds interest in a volume of music._ SIR GEORGE _is now nodding and snoring apoplectically._] Lady Orreyed, whenever you feel inclined for a game of billiards I'm at your service.

LADY ORREYED.

[_Jumping up._] Charmed, I'm sure! I really thought you'd forgotten poor little me. Oh, look at Dodo!

AUBREY.

No, no, don't wake him; he's tired.

LADY ORREYED.

I must, he looks so plain. [_Rousing_ SIR GEORGE.] Dodo! Dodo!

SIR GEORGE.

[_Stupidly._] 'Ullo!

LADY ORREYED.

Dodo, dear, you were snoring.

SIR GEORGE.

Oh, I say, you could 'a told me that by-and-by.

AUBREY.

You want a cigar, George; come into the billiard-room. [_Giving his arm to_ LADY ORREYED.] Cayley, bring Paula.

[AUBREY _and_ LADY ORREYED _go out._

SIR GEORGE.

[_Rising._] Hey, what! Billiard-room! [_Looking at his watch._] How goes the----? Phew! 'Ullo, 'Ullo! Whisky and potass!

[_He goes rapidly after_ AUBREY _and_ LADY ORREYED. PAULA _resumes playing._

PAULA.

[_After a pause._] Don't moon about after me, Cayley; follow the others.

DRUMMLE.

Thanks, by-and-by. [_Sitting._] That's pretty.

PAULA.

[_After another pause, still playing._] I wish you wouldn't stare so.

DRUMMLE.

Was I staring? I'm sorry. [_She plays a little longer, then stops suddenly, rises, and goes to the window, where she stands looking out._ DRUMMLE _moves from the ottoman to the settee._] A lovely night.

PAULA.

[_Startled._] Oh! [_Without turning to him._] Why do you hop about like a monkey?

DRUMMLE.

Hot rooms play the deuce with the nerves. Now, it would have done you good to have walked in the garden with us after dinner and made merry. Why didn't you?

PAULA.

You know why.

DRUMMLE.

Ah, you're thinking of the--difference between you and Aubrey?

PAULA.

Yes, I _am_ thinking of it.

DRUMMLE.

Well, so am I. How long----?

PAULA.

Getting on for three weeks.

DRUMMLE.

Bless me, it must be! And this would have been such a night to have healed it! Moonlight, the stars, the scent of flowers; and yet enough darkness to enable a kind woman to rest her hand for an instant on the arm of a good fellow who loves her. Ah, ha! it's a wonderful power, dear Mrs. Aubrey, the power of an offended woman! Only realise it! Just that one touch--the mere tips of her fingers--and, for herself and another, she changes the colour of the whole world!

PAULA.

[_Turning to him, calmly._] Cayley, my dear man, you talk exactly like a very romantic old lady.

[_She leaves the window and sits playing with the knick-knacks on the table._

DRUMMLE.

[_To himself._] H'm, that hasn't done it! Well--ha, ha!--I accept the suggestion. An old woman, eh?

PAULA.

Oh, I didn't intend----

DRUMMLE.

But why not? I've every qualification--well, almost. And I confess it would have given this withered bosom a throb of grandmotherly satisfaction if I could have seen you and Aubrey at peace before I take my leave to-morrow.

PAULA.

To-morrow, Cayley!

DRUMMLE.

I must.

PAULA.

Oh, this house is becoming unendurable.

DRUMMLE.

You're very kind. But you've got the Orreyeds.

PAULA.

[_Fiercely._] The Orreyeds! I--I hate the Orreyeds! I lie awake at night, hating them!

DRUMMLE.

Pardon me, I've understood that their visit is, in some degree, owing to--hem!--your suggestion.

PAULA.

Heavens! that doesn't make me like them better. Somehow or another, I--I've outgrown these people. This woman--I used to think her "jolly!"--sickens me. I can't breathe when she's near me: the whiff of her handkerchief turns me faint! And she patronises me by the hour, until I--I feel my nails growing longer with every word she speaks!

DRUMMLE.

My dear lady, why on earth don't you say all this to Aubrey?

PAULA.

Oh, I've been such an utter fool, Cayley!

DRUMMLE.

[_Soothingly._] Well, well, mention it to Aubrey!

PAULA.

No, no, you don't understand. What do you think I've done?

DRUMMLE.

Done! What, _since_ you invited the Orreyeds?

PAULA.

Yes; I must tell you----

DRUMMLE.

Perhaps you'd better not.

PAULA.

Look here. I've intercepted some letters from Mrs. Cortelyon and Ellean to--him. [_Producing three unopened letters from the bodice of her dress._] There are the accursed things! From Paris--two from the Cortelyon woman, the other from Ellean!

DRUMMLE.

But why--why?

PAULA.

I don't know. Yes, I do! I saw letters coming from Ellean to her father; not a line to me--not a line. And one morning it happened I was downstairs before he was, and I spied this one lying with his heap on the breakfast-table, and I slipped it into my pocket--out of malice, Cayley, pure devilry! And a day or two afterwards I met Elwes the postman at the Lodge, and took the letters from him, and found these others amongst 'em. I felt simply fiendish when I saw them--fiendish! [_Returning the letters to her bodice._] And now I carry them about with me, and they're scorching me like a mustard plaster!

DRUMMLE.

Oh, this accounts for Aubrey not hearing from Paris lately!

PAULA.

That's an ingenious conclusion to arrive at! Of course it does! [_With an hysterical laugh._] Ha, ha!

DRUMMLE.

Well, well! [_Laughing._] Ha, ha, ha!

PAULA.

[_Turning upon him._] I suppose it _is_ amusing!

DRUMMLE.

I beg pardon.

PAULA.

Heaven knows I've little enough to brag about! I'm a bad lot, but not in mean tricks of this sort. In all my life this is the most caddish thing I've done. How am I to get rid of these letters--that's what I want to know? How am I to get rid of them?

DRUMMLE.

If I were you I should take Aubrey aside and put them into his hands as soon as possible.

PAULA.

What! and tell him to his face that I----! No, thank you. I suppose _you_ wouldn't like to----

DRUMMLE.

No, no; I won't touch 'em!

PAULA.

And you call yourself my friend?

DRUMMLE.

[_Good-humouredly._] No, I don't!

PAULA.

Perhaps I'll tie them together and give them to his man in the morning.

DRUMMLE.

That won't avoid an explanation.

PAULA.

[_Recklessly._] Oh, then he must miss them----

DRUMMLE.

And trace them.

PAULA.

[_Throwing herself upon the ottoman._] I don't care!

DRUMMLE.

I know you don't; but let me send him to you now, may I?

PAULA.

Now! What do you think a woman's made of? I couldn't stand it, Cayley. I haven't slept for nights; and last night there was thunder, too! I believe I've got the horrors.

DRUMMLE.

[_Taking the little hand-mirror from the table._] You'll sleep well enough when you deliver those letters. Come, come, Mrs. Aubrey--a good night's rest! [_Holding the mirror before her face._] It's quite time.

[_She looks at herself for a moment, then snatches the mirror from him._

PAULA.

You brute, Cayley, to show me that!

DRUMMLE.

Then--may I? Be guided by a fr--a poor old woman! May I?

PAULA.

You'll kill me, amongst you!

DRUMMLE.

What do you say?

PAULA.

[_After a pause._] Very well. [_He nods his head and goes out rapidly. She looks after him for a moment, and calls "Cayley! Cayley!" Then she again produces the letters, deliberately, one by one, fingering them with aversion. Suddenly she starts, turning her head towards the door._] Ah!

AUBREY _enters quickly._

AUBREY.

Paula!

PAULA.

[_Handing him the letters, her face averted._] There! [_He examines the letters, puzzled, and looks at her inquiringly._] They are many days old. I stole them, I suppose to make you anxious and unhappy.

[_He looks at the letters again, then lays them aside on the table._

AUBREY.

[_Gently._] Paula, dear, it doesn't matter.

PAULA.

[_After a short pause._] Why--why do you take it like this?

AUBREY.

What did you expect?

PAULA.

Oh, but I suppose silent reproaches are really the severest. And then, naturally, you are itching to open your letters.

[_She crosses the room as if to go._

AUBREY.

Paula! [_She pauses._] Surely, surely it's all over now?

PAULA.

All over! [_Mockingly._.] Has my step-daughter returned then? When did she arrive? I haven't heard of it!

AUBREY.

You can be very cruel.

PAULA.

That word's always on a man's lips; he uses it if his soup's cold. [_With another movement as if to go._] Need we----

AUBREY.

I know I've wounded you, Paula. But isn't there any way out of this?

PAULA.

When does Ellean return? To-morrow? Next week?

AUBREY.

[_Wearily._] Oh! Why should we grudge Ellean the little pleasure she is likely to find in Paris and in London.

PAULA.

I grudge her nothing, if that's a hit at me. But with that woman----!

AUBREY.

It must be that woman or another. You know that at present we are unable to give Ellean the opportunity of--of----

PAULA.

Of mixing with respectable people.

AUBREY.

The opportunity of gaining friends, experience, ordinary knowledge of the world. If you are interested in Ellean, can't you see how useful Mrs. Cortelyon's good offices are?

PAULA.

May I put one question? At the end of the London season, when Mrs. Cortelyon has done with Ellean, is it quite understood that the girl comes back to us? [AUBREY _is silent._] Is it? Is it?

AUBREY.

Let us wait till the end of the season----

PAULA.

Oh! I knew it. You're only fooling me; you put me off with any trash. I believe you've sent Ellean away, not for the reasons you give, but because you don't consider me a decent companion for her, because you're afraid she might get a little of her innocence rubbed off in my company? Come, isn't that the truth? Be honest! Isn't that it?

AUBREY.

Yes.

[_There is a moment's silence on both sides._

PAULA.

[_With uplifted hands as if to strike him._] Oh!

AUBREY.

[_Taking her by the wrists._] Sit down. Sit down. [_He puts her into a chair; she shakes herself free with a cry._] Now listen to me. Fond as you are, Paula, of harking back to your past, there's one chapter of it you always let alone. I've never asked you to speak of it; you've never offered to speak of it. I mean the chapter that relates to the time when you were--like Ellean. [_She attempts to rise; he restrains her._] No, no.

PAULA.

I don't choose to talk about that time. I won't satisfy your curiosity.

AUBREY.

My dear Paula, I have no curiosity--I know what you were at Ellean's age. I'll tell you. You hadn't a thought that wasn't a wholesome one, you hadn't an impulse that didn't tend towards good, you never harboured a notion you couldn't have gossiped about to a parcel of children. [_She makes another effort to rise: he lays his hand lightly on her shoulder._] And this was a very few years back--there are days now when you look like a schoolgirl--but think of the difference between the two Paulas. You'll have to think hard, because after a cruel life one's perceptions grow a thick skin. But, for God's sake, do think till you get these two images clearly in your mind, and then ask yourself what sort of a friend such a woman as you are to-day would have been for the girl of seven or eight years ago.

PAULA.

[_Rising._] How dare you? I could be almost as good a friend to Ellean as her own mother would have been had she lived. I know what you mean. How dare you?

AUBREY.

You say that; very likely you believe it. But you're blind, Paula; you're blind. You! Every belief that a young, pure-minded girl holds sacred--that you once held sacred--you now make a target for a jest, a sneer, a paltry cynicism. I tell you, you're not mistress any longer of your thoughts or your tongue. Why, how often, sitting between you and Ellean, have I seen her cheeks turn scarlet as you've rattled off some tale that belongs by right to the club or the smoking-room! Have you noticed the blush? If you have, has the cause of it ever struck you? And this is the girl you say you love, I admit that you _do_ love, whose love you expect in return! Oh, Paula, I make the best, the only, excuse for you when I tell you you're blind!

PAULA.

Ellean--Ellean blushes easily.

AUBREY.

You blushed as easily a few years ago.

PAULA.

[_After a short pause._] Well! Have you finished your sermon?

AUBREY.

[_With a gesture of despair._] Oh, Paula!

[_Going up to the window and standing with his back to the room._

PAULA.

[_To herself._] A few--years ago! [_She walks slowly towards the door, then suddenly drops upon the ottoman in a paroxysm of weeping._] O God! A few years ago!

AUBREY.

[_Going to her._] Paula!

PAULA.

[_Sobbing._] Oh, don't touch me!

AUBREY.

Paula!

PAULA.

Oh, go away from me! [_He goes back a few steps, and after a little while she becomes calmer and rises unsteadily; then in an altered tone._] Look here----! [_He advances a step; she checks him with a quick gesture._] Look here! Get rid of these people--Mabel and her husband--as soon as possible! I--I've done with them!

AUBREY.

[_In a whisper._] Paula!

PAULA.

And then--then--when the time comes for Ellean to leave Mrs. Cortelyon, give me--give me another chance! [_He advances again, but she shrinks away._] No, no!

[_She goes out by the door on the right. He sinks on to the settee, covering his eyes with his hands. There is a brief silence, then a_ SERVANT _enters._]

SERVANT.

Mrs. Cortelyon, sir, with Miss Ellean.

[AUBREY _rises to meet_ MRS. CORTELYON, _who enters, followed by_ ELLEAN, _both being in travelling dresses. The_ SERVANT _withdraws._

MRS. CORTELYON.

[_Shaking hands with_ AUBREY.] Oh, my dear Aubrey!

AUBREY.

Mrs. Cortelyon! [_Kissing_ ELLEAN.] Ellean dear!

ELLEAN.

Papa, is all well at home?

MRS. CORTELYON.

We're shockingly anxious.

AUBREY.

Yes, yes, all's well. This is quite unexpected. [_To_ MRS. CORTELYON.] You've found Paris insufferably hot?

MRS. CORTELYON.

Insufferably hot! Paris is pleasant enough. We've had no letter from you!

AUBREY.

I wrote to Ellean a week ago.

MRS. CORTELYON.

Without alluding to the subject I had written to you upon.

AUBREY.

[_Thinking._] Ah, of course----

MRS. CORTELYON.

And since then we've both written and you've been absolutely silent. Oh, it's too bad!

AUBREY.

[_Picking up the letters from the table._] It isn't altogether my fault. Here are the letters----

ELLEAN.

Papa!

MRS. CORTELYON.

They're unopened.

AUBREY.

An accident delayed their reaching me till this evening. I'm afraid this has upset you very much.

MRS. CORTELYON.

Upset me!

ELLEAN.

[_In an undertone to_ MRS. CORTELYON.] Never mind. Not now, dear--not to-night.

AUBREY.

Eh?

MRS. CORTELYON.

[_To_ ELLEAN _aloud._] Child, run away and take your things off. She doesn't look as if she'd journeyed from Paris to-day.

AUBREY.

I've never seen her with such a colour.

[_Taking_ ELLEAN'S _hands._

ELLEAN.

[_To_ AUBREY, _in a faint voice._] Papa, Mrs. Cortelyon has been so very, very kind to me, but I--I have come home.

[_She goes out._

AUBREY.

Come home! [_To_ MRS. CORTELYON.] Ellean returns to us, then?

MRS. CORTELYON.

That's the very point I put to you in my letters, and you oblige me to travel from Paris to Willowmere on a warm day to settle it. I think perhaps it's right that Ellean should be with you just now, although I---- My dear friend, circumstances are a little altered.

AUBREY.

Alice, you're in some trouble.

MRS. CORTELYON.

Well--yes, I _am_ in trouble. You remember pretty little Mrs. Brereton who was once Caroline Ardale?

AUBREY.

Quite well.

MRS. CORTELYON.

She's a widow now, poor thing. She has the _entresol_ of the house where we've been lodging in the Avenue de Friedland. Caroline's a dear chum of mine; she formed a great liking for Ellean.

AUBREY.

I'm very glad.

MRS. CORTELYON.

Yes, it's nice for her to meet her mother's friends. Er--that young Hugh Ardale the papers were full of some time ago--he's Caroline Brereton's brother, you know.

AUBREY.

No, I didn't know. What did he do? I forget.

MRS. CORTELYON.

Checked one of those horrid mutinies at some far-away station in India, marched down with a handful of his men and a few faithful natives, and held the place until he was relieved. They gave him his company and a V. C. for it.

AUBREY.

And he's Mrs. Brereton's brother?

MRS. CORTELYON.

Yes. He's with his sister--_was_, rather--in Paris. He's home--invalided. Good gracious, Aubrey, why don't you help me out? Can't you guess what has occurred?

AUBREY.

Alice!

MRS. CORTELYON.

Young Ardale--Ellean!

AUBREY.

An attachment?

MRS. CORTELYON.

Yes, Aubrey. [_After a little pause._] Well, I suppose I've got myself into sad disgrace. But really I didn't foresee anything of this kind. A serious, reserved child like Ellean, and a boyish, high-spirited soldier--it never struck me as being likely. [AUBREY _paces to and fro thoughtfully._] I did all I could directly Captain Ardale spoke--wrote to you at once. Why on earth don't you receive your letters promptly, and when you do get them why can't you open them? I endured the anxiety till last night, and then made up my mind--home! Of course, it has worried me terribly. My head's bursting. Are there any salts about? [AUBREY _fetches a bottle from the cabinet and hands it to her._] We've had one of those hateful smooth crossings that won't let you be properly indisposed.

AUBREY.

My dear Alice, I assure you I've no thought of blaming you.

MRS. CORTELYON.

That statement always precedes a quarrel.

AUBREY.

I don't know whether this is the worst or the best luck. How will my wife regard it? Is Captain Ardale a good fellow?

MRS. CORTELYON.

My dear Aubrey, you'd better read up the accounts of his wonderful heroism. Face to face with death for a whole week; always with a smile and a cheering word for the poor helpless souls depending on him! Of course, it's that that has stirred the depths of your child's nature. I've watched her while we've been dragging the story out of him, and if angels look different from Ellean at that moment, I don't desire to meet any, that's all!

AUBREY.

If you were in my position----? But you can't judge.

MRS. CORTELYON.

Why, if I had a marriageable daughter of my own and Captain Ardale proposed for her, naturally I should cry my eyes out all night--but I should thank Heaven in the morning.

AUBREY.

You believe so thoroughly in him?

MRS. CORTELYON.

Do you think I should have only a headache at this minute if I didn't! Look here, you've got to see me down the lane; that's the least you can do, my friend. Come into my house for a moment and shake hands with Hugh.

AUBREY.

What, is he here?

MRS. CORTELYON.

He came through with us, to present himself formally to-morrow. Where are my gloves? [AUBREY _fetches them from the ottoman._] Make my apologies to Mrs. Tanqueray, please. She's well, I hope? [_Going towards the door._] I can't feel sorry she hasn't seen me in this condition.

ELLEAN _enters._

ELLEAN.

[_To_ MRS. CORTELYON.] I've been waiting to wish you good-night. I was afraid I'd missed you.

MRS. CORTELYON.

Good-night, Ellean.

ELLEAN.

[_In a low voice, embracing_ MRS. CORTELYON.] I can't thank you. Dear Mrs. Cortelyon!

MRS. CORTELYON.

[_Her arms round_ ELLEAN, _in a whisper to_ AUBREY.] Speak a word to her.

[MRS. CORTELYON _goes out._

AUBREY.

[_To_ ELLEAN.] Ellean, I'm going to see Mrs. Cortelyon home. Tell Paula where I am; explain, dear.

[_Going to the door_

ELLEAN.

[_Her head drooping._] Yes. [_Quickly._] Father! You are angry with me--disappointed?

AUBREY.

Angry?--no.

ELLEAN.

Disappointed?

AUBREY.

[_Smiling and going to her and taking her hand._] If so, it's only because you've shaken my belief in my discernment. I thought you took after your poor mother a little, Ellean; but there's a look on your face to-night, dear, that I never saw on hers--never, never.

ELLEAN.

[_Leaning her head on his shoulder._] Perhaps I ought not to have gone away?

AUBREY.

Hush! You're quite happy?

ELLEAN.

Yes.

AUBREY.

That's right. Then, as you are quite happy there is something I particularly want you to do for me Ellean.

ELLEAN.

What is that?

AUBREY.

Be very gentle with Paula. Will you?

ELLEAN.

You think I have been unkind.

AUBREY.

[_Kissing her upon the forehead._] Be very gentle with Paula.

[_He goes out and she stands looking after him, then, as she turns thoughtfully from the door, a rose is thrown through the window and falls at her feet. She picks up the flower wonderingly and goes to the window._

ELLEAN.

[_Starting back._] Hugh!

HUGH ARDALE, _a handsome young man of about seven-and-twenty, with a boyish face and manner, appears outside the window._

HUGH.

Nelly! Nelly dear!

ELLEAN.

What's the matter?

HUGH.

Hush! Nothing. It's only fun. [_Laughing._] Ha, ha, ha! I've found out that Mrs. Cortelyon's meadow runs up to your father's plantation; I've come through a gap in the hedge.

ELLEAN.

Why, Hugh?

HUGH.

I'm miserable at The Warren; it's so different from the Avenue de Friedland. Don't look like that! Upon my word I meant just to peep at your home and go back, but I saw figures moving about here, and came nearer, hoping to get a glimpse of you. Was that your father?

[_Entering the room._

ELLEAN.

Yes.

HUGH.

Isn't this fun! A rabbit ran across my foot while I was hiding behind that old yew.

ELLEAN.

You must go away; it's not right for you to be here like this.

HUGH.

But it's only fun, I tell you. You take everything so seriously. Do wish me good-night.

ELLEAN.

We have said good-night.

HUGH.

In the hall at The Warren before Mrs. Cortelyon and a man-servant. Oh, it's so different from the Avenue de Friedland!

ELLEAN.

[_Giving him her hand hastily._] Good-night, Hugh.

HUGH.

Is that all? We might be the merest acquaintances.

[_He momentarily embraces her, but she releases herself._

ELLEAN.

It's when you're like this that you make me feel utterly miserable. [_Throwing the rose from her angrily._] Oh!

HUGH.

I've offended you now, I suppose?

ELLEAN.

Yes.

HUGH.

Forgive me, Nelly. Come into the garden for five minutes; we'll stroll down to the plantation.

ELLEAN.

No, no.

HUGH.

For two minutes--to tell me you forgive me.

ELLEAN.

I forgive you.

HUGH.

Evidently. I sha'n't sleep a wink to-night after this. What a fool I am! Come down to the plantation. Make it up with me.

ELLEAN.

There is somebody coming into this room. Do you wish to be seen here?

HUGH.

I shall wait for you behind that yew-tree. You must speak to me. Nelly!

[_He disappears._ PAULA _enters._

PAULA.

Ellean!

ELLEAN.

You--you are very surprised to see me, Paula, of course.

PAULA.

Why are you here? Why aren't you with--your friend?

ELLEAN.

I've come home--if you'll have me. We left Paris this morning; Mrs. Cortelyon brought me back. She was here a minute or two ago; papa has just gone with her to The Warren. He asked me to tell you.

PAULA.

There are some people staying with us that I'd rather you didn't meet. It was hardly worth your while to return for a few hours.

ELLEAN.

A few hours?

PAULA.

Well, when do you go to London?

ELLEAN.

I don't think I go to London, after all.

PAULA.

[_Eagerly._] You--you've quarrelled with her?

ELLEAN.

No, no, no, not that; but--Paula! [_In an altered tone._] Paula.

PAULA.

[_Startled._] Eh? [ELLEAN _goes deliberately to_ PAULA _and kisses her._] Ellean!

ELLEAN.

Kiss me.

PAULA.

What--what's come to you?

ELLEAN.

I want to behave differently to you in the future. Is it too late?

PAULA.

Too--late! [_Impulsively kissing_ ELLEAN _and crying._] No--no--no! No--no!

ELLEAN.

Paula, don't cry.

PAULA.

[_Wiping her eyes_] I'm a little shaky; I haven't been sleeping. It's all right,--talk to me.

ELLEAN.

There is something I want to tell you----

PAULA.

Is there--is there?

[_They sit together on the ottoman,_ PAULA _taking_ ELLEAN'S _hand._

ELLEAN.

Paula, in our house in the Avenue de Friedland, on the floor below us, there was a Mrs. Brereton. She used to be a friend of my mother's. Mrs. Cortelyon and I spent a great deal of our time with her.

PAULA.

[_Suspiciously._] Oh! [_Letting_ ELLEAN'S _hand fall._] Is this lady going to take you up in place of Mrs. Cortelyon?

ELLEAN.

No, no. Her brother is staying with her--_was_ staying with her. Her brother----

[_Breaking off in confusion._

PAULA.

Well?

ELLEAN.

[_Almost inaudibly._] Paula----

[_She rises and walks away,_ PAULA _following her._

PAULA.

Ellean! [_Taking hold of her._] You're not in love!

[ELLEAN _looks at_ PAULA _appealingly._

PAULA.

Oh! _You_ in love! You! Oh, this is why you've come home! Of course, you can make friends with me now! You'll leave us for good soon, I suppose; so it doesn't much matter being civil to me for a little while!

ELLEAN.

Oh, Paula!

PAULA.

Why, how you have deceived us--all of us! We've taken you for a cold-blooded little saint. The fools you've made of us! Saint Ellean! Saint Ellean!

ELLEAN.

Ah, I might have known you'd only mock me!

PAULA.

[_Her tone changing._] Eh?

ELLEAN.

I--I can't talk to you. [_Sitting on the settee._] You do nothing else but mock and sneer, nothing else.

PAULA.

Ellean dear! Ellean! I didn't mean it. I'm so horribly jealous, it's a sort of curse on me. [_Kneeling beside_ ELLEAN _and embracing her._] My tongue runs away with me. I'm going to alter, I swear I am. I've made some good resolutions, and, as God's above me, I'll keep them! If you are in love, if you do ever marry, that's no reason why we shouldn't be fond of each other. Come, you've kissed me of your own accord--you can't take it back. Now we're friends again, aren't we? Ellean dear! I want to know everything, everything. Ellean dear, Ellean!

ELLEAN.

Paula, Hugh has done something that makes me very angry. He came with us from Paris to-day, to see papa. He is staying with Mrs. Cortelyon and--I ought to tell you----

PAULA.

Yes, yes. What?

ELLEAN.

He has found his way by The Warren meadow through the plantation up to this house. He is waiting to bid me good-night. [_Glancing towards the garden._] He is--out there.

PAULA.

Oh!

ELLEAN.

What shall I do?

PAULA.

Bring him in to see me! Will you?

ELLEAN.

No, no.

PAULA.

But I'm dying to know him. Oh, yes, you must. I shall meet him before Aubrey does. [_Excitedly running her hands over her hair._] I'm so glad. [ELLEAN _goes out by the window._] The mirror--mirror. What a fright I must look! [_Not finding the hand-glass on the table, she jumps on to the settee, and surveys herself in the mirror over the mantelpiece, then sits quietly down and waits._] Ellean! Just fancy! Ellean!

_After a pause_ ELLEAN _enters by the window with_ HUGH.

ELLEAN.

Paula, this is Captain Ardale--Mrs. Tanqueray.

[PAULA _risen and turns, and she and_ HUGH _stand staring blankly at each other for a moment or two; then_ PAULA _advances and gives him her hand._

PAULA.

[_In a strange voice, but calmly._] How do you do?

HUGH.

How do you do?

PAULA.

[_To_ ELLEAN.] Mr. Ardale and I have met in London, Ellean. Er--Captain Ardale, now?

HUGH.

Yes.

ELLEAN.

In London?

PAULA.

They say the world's very small, don't they?

HUGH.

Yes.

PAULA.

Ellean, dear, I want to have a little talk about you to Mr. Ardale--Captain Ardale--alone. [_Putting her arms round_ ELLEAN, _and leading her to the door._] Come back in a little while. [ELLEAN _nods to_ PAULA _with a smile and goes out, while_ PAULA _stands watching her at the open door._] In a little while--in a little---- [_Closing the door and then taking a seat facing_ HUGH.] Be quick! Mr. Tanqueray has only gone down to The Warren with Mrs. Cortelyon. What is to be done?

HUGH.

[_Blankly._] Done?

PAULA.

Done--done. Something must be done.

HUGH.

I understood that Mr. Tanqueray had married a Mrs.--Mrs.----

PAULA.

Jarman?

HUGH.

Yes.

PAULA.

I'd been going by that name. You didn't follow my doings after we separated.

HUGH.

No.

PAULA.

[_Sneeringly._] No.

HUGH.

I went out to India.

PAULA.

What's to be done?

HUGH.

Damn this chance!

PAULA.

Oh, my God!

HUGH.

Your husband doesn't know, does he?

PAULA.

That you and I----?

HUGH.

Yes.

PAULA.

No. He knows about others.

HUGH.

Not about me. How long were we----?

PAULA.

I don't remember, exactly.

HUGH.

Do you--do you think it matters?

PAULA.

His--his daughter. [_With a muttered exclamation he turns away and sits with his head in his hands._] What's to be done?

HUGH.

I wish I could think.

PAULA.

Oh! Oh! What happened to that flat of ours in Ethelbert Street?

HUGH.

I let it.

PAULA.

All that pretty furniture?

HUGH.

Sold it.

PAULA.

I came across the key of the escritoire the other day in an old purse! [_Suddenly realising the horror and hopelessness of her position, and starting to her feet with an hysterical cry of rage._] What am I maundering about?

HUGH.

For God's sake, be quiet! Do let me think.

PAULA.

This will send me mad! [_Suddenly turning and standing over him._] You--you beast, to crop up in my life again like this!

HUGH.

I always treated you fairly.

PAULA.

[_Weakly._] Oh! I beg your pardon--I know you did--I----

[_She sinks on to the settee, crying hysterically._

HUGH.

Hush!

PAULA.

She kissed me to-night! I'd won her over! I've had such a fight to make her love me! And now--just as she's beginning to love me, to bring this on her!

HUGH.

Hush, hush! Don't break down!

PAULA.

[_Sobbing._] You don't know! I--I haven't been getting on well in my marriage. It's been my fault. The life I used to lead spoilt me completely. But I'd made up my mind to turn over a new life from to-night. From to-night!

HUGH.

Paula----

PAULA.

Don't you call me that!

HUGH.

Mrs. Tanqueray, there is no cause for you to despair in this way. It's all right, I tell you--it shall be all right.

PAULA.

[_Shivering._] What are we to do?

HUGH.

Hold our tongues.

PAULA.

Eh?

[_Staring vacantly._

HUGH.

The chances are a hundred to one against any one ever turning up who knew us when we were together. Besides, no one would be such a brute as to split on us. If anybody did do such a thing we should have to lie! What are we upsetting ourselves like this for, when we've simply got to hold our tongues?

PAULA.

You're as mad as I am!

HUGH.

Can you think of a better plan?

PAULA.

There's only one plan possible--let's come to our senses!--Mr. Tanqueray must be told.

HUGH.

Your husband! What, and I lose Ellean! I lose Ellean!

PAULA.

You've got to lose her.

HUGH.

I won't lose her! I can't lose her!

PAULA.

Didn't I read of your doing any number of brave things in India? Why, you seem to be an awful coward!

HUGH.

That's another sort of pluck altogether; I haven't this sort of pluck.

PAULA.

Oh, I don't ask _you_ to tell Mr. Tanqueray. That's my job.

HUGH.

[_Standing over her._] You--you--you'd better! You----!

PAULA.

[_Rising._] Don't bully me! I intend to.

HUGH.

[_Taking hold of her; she wrenches herself free._] Look here, Paula! I never treated you badly--you've owned it. Why should you want to pay me out like this? You don't know how I love Ellean!

PAULA.

Yes, that's just what I _do_ know.

HUGH.

I say you don't! She's as good as my own mother. I've been downright honest with her too. I told her, in Paris, that I'd been a bit wild at one time, and, after a damned wretched day, she promised to forgive me because of what I'd done since in India. She's behaved like an angel to me! Surely I oughtn't to lose her, after all, just because I've been like other fellows! No; I haven't been half as rackety as a hundred men we could think of. Paula, don't pay me out for nothing; be fair to me, there's a good girl--be fair to me!

PAULA.

Oh, I'm not considering you at all! I advise you not to stay here any longer; Mr. Tanqueray is sure to be back soon.

HUGH.

[_Taking up his hat._] What's the understanding between us then? What have we arranged to do?

PAULA.

I don't know what you're going to do; I've got to tell Mr. Tanqueray.

HUGH.

By God, you shall do nothing of the sort!

[_Approaching her fiercely._

PAULA.

You shocking coward!

HUGH.

If you dare! [_Going up to the window._] Mind! If you dare!

PAULA.

[_Following him._] Why, what would you do?

HUGH.

[_After a short pause, sullenly._] Nothing. I'd shoot myself--that's nothing. Good-night.

PAULA.

Good-night.

[_He disappears. She walks unsteadily to the ottoman, and sits; and as she does so her hand falls upon the little silver mirror, which she takes up, staring at her own reflection._

THE FOURTH ACT

_The Drawing room at "Highercoombe," the same evening._

PAULA _is still seated on the ottoman, looking vacantly before her, with the little mirror in her hand._ LADY ORREYED _enters._

LADY ORREYED.

There you are! You never came into the billiard-room. Isn't it maddening--Cayley Drummle gives me sixty out of a hundred and beats me. I must be out of form, because I know I play remarkably well for a lady. Only last month---- [PAULA _rises._] Whatever is the matter with you, old girl?

PAULA.

Why?

LADY ORREYED.

[_Staring._] It's the light, I suppose. [PAULA _replaces the mirror on the table._] By Aubrey's bolting from the billiard-table in that fashion I thought perhaps----

PAULA.

Yes; it's all right.

LADY ORREYED.

You've patched it up? [PAULA _nods._] Oh, I am jolly glad----! I mean----

PAULA.

Yes, I know what you mean. Thanks, Mabel.

LADY ORREYED.

[_Kissing_ PAULA.] Now take my advice; for the future----

PAULA.

Mabel, if I've been disagreeable to you while you've been staying here, I--I beg your pardon.

[_Walking away and sitting down._

LADY ORREYED.

You disagreeable, my dear? I haven't noticed it. Dodo and me both consider you make a first-class hostess, but then you've had such practice, haven't you? [_Dropping on to the ottoman and gaping._] Oh, talk about being sleepy----!

PAULA.

Why don't you----!

LADY ORREYED.

Why, dear, I must hang about for Dodo. You may as well know it; he's in one of his moods.

PAULA.

[_Under her breath._] Oh----!

LADY ORREYED.

Now, it's not his fault; it was deadly dull for him while we were playing billiards. Cayley Drummle did ask him to mark, but I stopped that; it's so easy to make a gentleman look like a billiard-marker. This is just how it always is; if poor old Dodo has nothing to do, he loses count, as you may say.

PAULA.

Hark!

SIR GEORGE ORREYED _enters, walking slowly and deliberately; he looks pale and watery-eyed._

SIR GEORGE.

[_With mournful indistinctness._] I'm 'fraid we've lef' you a grea' deal to yourself to-night, Mrs. Tanqueray. Attra'tions of billiards. I apol'gise. I say, where's ol' Aubrey?

PAULA.

My husband has been obliged to go out to a neighbour's house.

SIR GEORGE.

I want his advice on a rather pressing matter connected with my family--my family. [_Sitting._] To-morrow will do just as well.

LADY ORREYED.

[_To_ PAULA.] This is the mood I hate so--drivelling about his precious family.

SIR GEORGE.

The fact is, Mrs. Tanqueray, I am not easy in my min' 'bout the way I am treatin' my poor ol' mother.

LADY ORREYED.

[_To_ PAULA.] Do you hear that? That's _his_ mother, but _my_ mother he won't so much as look at!

SIR GEORGE.

I shall write to Bruton Street firs' thing in the morning.

LADY ORREYED.

[_To_ PAULA.] Mamma has stuck to me through everything--well, you know!

SIR GEORGE.

I'll get ol' Aubrey to figure out a letter. I'll drop line to Uncle Fitz too--dooced shame of the ol' feller to chuck me over in this manner. [_Wiping his eyes._] All my family have chucked me over.

LADY ORREYED.

[_Rising._] Dodo!

SIR GEORGE.

Jus' because I've married beneath me, to be chucked over! Aunt Lydia, the General, Hooky Whitgrave, Lady Sugnall--my own dear sister!--all turn their backs on me. It's more than I can stan'!

LADY ORREYED.

[_Approaching him with dignity._] Sir George, wish Mrs. Tanqueray good-night at once and come upstairs. Do you hear me?

SIR GEORGE.

[_Rising angrily._] Wha'----

LADY ORREYED.

Be quiet!

SIR GEORGE.

You presoom to order me about!

LADY ORREYED.

You're making an exhibition of yourself!

SIR GEORGE.

Look 'ere----!

LADY ORREYED.

Come along, I tell you!

[_He hesitates, utters a few inarticulate sounds, then snatches up a fragile ornament from the table, and is about to dash it on to the ground._ LADY ORREYED _retreats, and_ PAULA _goes to him._

PAULA.

George!

[_He replaces the ornament._

SIR GEORGE.

[_Shaking_ PAULA'S _hand._] Good ni', Mrs. Tanqueray.

LADY ORREYED.

[_To_ PAULA.] Good-night, darling. Wish Aubrey good-night for me. Now, Dodo?

[_She goes out._

SIR GEORGE.

[_To_ PAULA.] I say, are you goin' to sit up for ol' Aubrey?

PAULA.

Yes.

SIR GEORGE.

Shall I keep you comp'ny?

PAULA.

No, thank you, George.

SIR GEORGE.

Sure?

PAULA.

Yes, sure.

SIR GEORGE.

[_Shaking hands._] Good-night again.

PAULA.

Good-night.

[_She turns away. He goes out, steadying himself carefully. Drummle appears outside the window, smoking._

DRUMMLE.

[_Looking into the room, and seeing_ PAULA.] My last cigar. Where's Aubrey?

PAULA.

Gone down to The Warren, to see Mrs. Cortelyon home.

DRUMMLE.

[_Entering the room._] Eh? Did you say Mrs. Cortelyon?

PAULA.

Yes. She has brought Ellean back.

DRUMMLE.

Bless my soul! Why?

PAULA.

I--I'm too tired to tell you, Cayley. If you stroll along the lane you'll meet Aubrey. Get the news from him.

DRUMMLE.

[_Going up to the window._] Yes, yes. [_Returning to_ PAULA.] I don't want to bother you, only--the anxious old woman, you know. Are you and Aubrey----?

PAULA.

Good friends again?

DRUMMLE.

[_Nodding._] Um.

PAULA.

[_Giving him her hand._] Quite, Cayley, quite.

DRUMMLE.

[_Retaining her hand._] That's capital. As I'm off so early to-morrow morning, let me say now--thank you for your hospitality.

[_He bends over her hand gallantly, then goes out by the window._

PAULA.

[_To herself._] "Are you and Aubrey----?" "Good friends again?" "Yes." "Quite, Cayley, quite."

[_There is a brief pause, then_ AUBREY _enters hurriedly, wearing a light overcoat and carrying a cap._

AUBREY.

Paula dear! Have you seen Ellean?

PAULA.

I found her here when I came down.

AUBREY.

She--she's told you?

PAULA.

Yes, Aubrey.

AUBREY.

It's extraordinary, isn't it! Not that somebody should fall in love with Ellean or that Ellean herself should fall in love. All that's natural enough and was bound to happen, I suppose, sooner or later. But this young fellow! You know his history?

PAULA.

His history?

AUBREY.

You remember the papers were full of his name a few months ago?

PAULA.

Oh, yes.

AUBREY.

The man's as brave as a lion, there's no doubt about that; and, at the same time, he's like a big good-natured schoolboy, Mrs. Cortelyon says. Have you ever pictured the kind of man Ellean would marry some day?

PAULA.

I can't say that I have.

AUBREY.

A grave, sedate fellow I've thought about--hah! She has fallen in love with the way in which Ardale practically laid down his life to save those poor people shut up in the Residency. [_Taking off his coat._] Well, I suppose if a man can do that sort of thing, one ought to be content. And yet---- [_Throwing his coat on the settee._] I should have met him to-night, but he'd gone out. Paula dear, tell me how you look upon this business.

PAULA.

Yes, I will--I must. To begin with, I--I've seen Mr. Ardale.

AUBREY.

Captain Ardale?

PAULA.

Captain Ardale.

AUBREY.

Seen him?

PAULA.

While you were away he came up here, through our grounds, to try to get a word with Ellean. I made her fetch him in and present him to me.

AUBREY.

[_Frowning._] Doesn't Captain Ardale know there's a lodge and a front door to this place? Never mind! What is your impression of him?

PAULA.

Aubrey, do you recollect my bringing you a letter--a letter giving you an account of myself--to the Albany late one night--the night before we got married?

AUBREY.

A letter?

PAULA.

You burnt it; don't you know?

AUBREY.

Yes; I know.

PAULA.

His name was in that letter.

AUBREY.

[_Going back from her slowly, and staring at her._] I don't understand.

PAULA.

Well--Ardale and I once kept house together. [_He remains silent, not moving._] Why don't you strike me? Hit me in the face--I'd rather you did! Hurt me! hurt me!

AUBREY.

[_After a pause._] What did you--and this man--say to each other--just now?

PAULA.

I--hardly--know.

AUBREY.

Think!

PAULA.

The end of it all was that I--I told him I must inform you of--what had happened ... he didn't want me to do that ... I declared that I would ... he dared me to. [_Breaking down._] Let me alone!--oh!

AUBREY.

Where was my daughter while this went on?

PAULA.

I--I had sent her out of the room ... that is all right.

AUBREY.

Yes, yes--yes, yes.

[_He turns his head towards the door._

PAULA.

Who's that?

_A_ SERVANT _enters with a letter._

SERVANT.

The coachman has just run up with this from The Warren, sir. [AUBREY _takes the letter._] It's for Mrs. Tanqueray, sir; there's no answer.

[_The_ SERVANT _withdraws._ AUBREY _goes to_ PAULA _and drops the letter into her lap; she opens it with uncertain hands._

PAULA.

[_Reading it to herself._] It's from--him. He's going away--or gone--I think. [_Rising in a weak way._] What does it say? I never could make out his writing.

[_She gives the letter to_ AUBREY _and stands near him, looking at the letter over his shoulder as he reads._

AUBREY.

[_Reading._] "I shall be in Paris by to-morrow evening. Shall wait there, at Meurice's, for a week, ready to receive any communication you or your husband may address to me. Please invent some explanation to Ellean. Mrs. Tanqueray, for God's sake, do what you can for me."

[PAULA _and_ AUBREY _speak in low voices, both still looking at the letter._

PAULA.

Has he left The Warren, I wonder, already?

AUBREY.

That doesn't matter.

PAULA.

No, but I can picture him going quietly off. Very likely he's walking on to Bridgeford or Cottering to-night, to get the first train in the morning. A pleasant stroll for him.

AUBREY.

We'll reckon he's gone, that's enough.

PAULA.

That isn't to be answered in any way?

AUBREY.

Silence will answer that.

PAULA.

He'll soon recover his spirits, I know.

AUBREY.

You know. [_Offering her the letter._] You don't want this, I suppose?

PAULA.

No.

AUBREY.

It's done with--done with.

[_He tears the letter into small pieces. She has dropped the envelope; she searches for it, finds it, and gives it to him._

PAULA.

Here!

AUBREY.

[_Looking at the remnants of the letter._] This is no good; I must burn it.

PAULA.

Burn it in your room.

AUBREY.

Yes.

PAULA.

Put it in your pocket for now.

AUBREY.

Yes.

[_He does so._ ELLEAN _enters and they both turn, guiltily, and stare at her._

ELLEAN.

[_After a short silence, wonderingly._] Papa----

AUBREY.

What do you want, Ellean?

ELLEAN.

I heard from Willis that you had come in; I only want to wish you good-night. [PAULA _steals away, without looking back._] What's the matter? Ah! Of course, Paula has told you about Captain Ardale?

AUBREY.

Well?

ELLEAN.

Have you and he met?

AUBREY.

No.

ELLEAN.

You are angry with him; so was I. But to-morrow when he calls and expresses his regret--to-morrow----

AUBREY.

Ellean--Ellean!

ELLEAN.

Yes, papa?

AUBREY.

I--I can't let you see this man again. [_He walks away from her in a paroxysm of distress, then, after a moment or two, he returns to her and takes her to his arms._] Ellean! my child!

ELLEAN.

[_Releasing herself._] What has happened, papa? What is it?

AUBREY.

[_Thinking out his words deliberately._] Something has occurred, something has come to my knowledge, in relation to Captain Ardale, which puts any further acquaintanceship between you two out of the question.

ELLEAN.

Any further acquaintanceship ... out of the question?

AUBREY.

Yes.

[_Advancing to her quickly, but she shrinks from him._

ELLEAN.

No, no--I am quite well. [_After a short pause._] It's not an hour ago since Mrs. Cortelyon left you and me together here; you had nothing to urge against Captain Ardale then.

AUBREY.

No.

ELLEAN.

You don't know each other; you haven't even seen him this evening. Father!

AUBREY.

I have told you he and I have not met.

ELLEAN.

Mrs. Cortelyon couldn't have spoken against him to you just now. No, no, no; she's too good a friend to both of us. Aren't you going to give me some explanation? You can't take this position towards me--towards Captain Ardale--without affording me the fullest explanation.

AUBREY.

Ellean, there are circumstances connected with Captain Ardale's career which you had better remain ignorant of. It must be sufficient for you that I consider these circumstances render him unfit to be your husband.

ELLEAN.

Father!

AUBREY.

You must trust me, Ellean; you must try to understand the depth of my love for you and the--the agony it gives me to hurt you. You must trust me.

ELLEAN.

I will, father; but you must trust me a little too. Circumstances connected with Captain Ardale's career?

AUBREY.

Yes.

ELLEAN.

When he presents himself here to-morrow of course you will see him and let him defend himself?

AUBREY.

Captain Ardale will not be here to-morrow.

ELLEAN.

Not! You have stopped his coming here?

AUBREY.

Indirectly--yes.

ELLEAN.

But just now he was talking to me at that window! Nothing had taken place then! And since then nothing can have----! Oh! Why--you have heard something against him from Paula.

AUBREY.

From--Paula!

ELLEAN.

She knows him.

AUBREY.

She has told you so?

ELLEAN.

When I introduced Captain Ardale to her she said she had met him in London. Of course! It is Paula who has done this!

AUBREY.

[_In a hard voice._] I--I hope you--you'll refrain from rushing at conclusions. There's nothing to be gained by trying to avoid the main point, which is that you must drive Captain Ardale out of your thoughts. Understand that! You're able to obtain comfort from your religion, aren't you? I'm glad to think that's so. I talk to you in a harsh way, Ellean, but I feel your pain almost as acutely as you do. [_Going to the door._] I--I can't say anything more to you to-night.

ELLEAN.

Father! [_He pauses at the door._] Father, I'm obliged to ask you this; there's no help for it--I've no mother to go to. Does what you have heard about Captain Ardale concern the time when he led a wild, a dissolute life in London?

AUBREY.

[_Returning to her slowly and staring at her._] Explain yourself!

ELLEAN.

He has been quite honest with me. One day--in Paris--he confessed to me--what a man's life is--what his life had been.

AUBREY.

[_Under his breath._] Oh!

ELLEAN.

He offered to go away, not to approach me again.

AUBREY.

And you--you accepted his view of what a man's life is!

ELLEAN.

As far as _I_ could forgive him, I forgave him.

AUBREY.

[_With a groan._] Why, when was it you left us? It hasn't taken you long to get your robe "just a little dusty at the hem!"

ELLEAN.

What do you mean?

AUBREY.

Hah! A few weeks ago my one great desire was to keep you ignorant of evil.

ELLEAN.

Father, it is impossible to be ignorant of evil. Instinct, common instinct, teaches us what is good and bad. Surely I am none the worse for knowing what is wicked and detesting it!

AUBREY.

Detesting it! Why, you love this fellow!

ELLEAN.

Ah, you don't understand! I have simply judged Captain Ardale as we all pray to be judged. I have lived in imagination through that one week in India when he deliberately offered his life back to God to save those wretched, desperate people. In his whole career I see now nothing but that one week; those few hours bring him nearer the Saints, I believe, than fifty uneventful years of mere blamelessness would have done! And so, father, if Paula has reported anything to Captain Ardale's discredit----

AUBREY.

Paula----!

ELLEAN.

It must be Paula; it can't be anybody else.

AUBREY.

You--you'll please keep Paula out of the question. Finally, Ellean, understand me--I have made up my mind.

[_Again going to the door._

ELLEAN.

But wait--listen! I have made up my mind also.

AUBREY.

Ah! I recognise your mother in you now!

ELLEAN.

You need not speak against my mother because you are angry with me!

AUBREY.

I--I hardly know what I'm saying to you. In the morning--in the morning----

[_He goes out. She remains standing, and turns her head to listen. Then, after a moment's hesitation she goes softly to the window, and looks out under the verandah._

ELLEAN.

[_In a whisper._] Paula! Paula!

[PAULA _appears outside the window and steps into the room; her face is white and drawn, her hair is a little disordered._

PAULA.

[_Huskily._] Well?

ELLEAN.

Have you been under the verandah all the while--listening?

PAULA.

N--no.

ELLEAN.

You _have_ overheard us--I see you have. And it _is_ you who have been speaking to my father against Captain Ardale. Isn't it? Paula, why don't you own it or deny it?

PAULA.

Oh, I--I don't mind owning it; why should I?

ELLEAN.

Ah! You seem to have been very very eager to tell your tale.

PAULA.

No, I wasn't eager, Ellean. I'd have given something not to have had to do it. I wasn't eager.

ELLEAN.

Not! Oh, I think you might safely have spared us all for a little while.

PAULA.

But, Ellean, you forget I--I am your step-mother. It was my--my duty--to tell your father what I--what I knew----

ELLEAN.

What you knew! Why, after all, what can you know! You can only speak from gossip, report, hearsay! How is it possible that you----! [_She stops abruptly. The two women stand staring at each other for a moment; then_ ELLEAN _backs away from_ PAULA _slowly._] Paula!

PAULA.

What--what's the matter?

ELLEAN.

You--you knew Captain Ardale in London!

PAULA.

Why--what do you mean?

ELLEAN.

Oh!

[_She makes for the door, but_ PAULA _catches her by the wrist._

PAULA.

You shall tell me what you mean!

ELLEAN.

Ah! [_Suddenly looking fixedly in_ PAULA'S _face._] You know what I mean.

PAULA.

You accuse me!

ELLEAN.

It's in your face!

PAULA.

[_Hoarsely._] You--you think I'm--that sort of creature, do you?

ELLEAN.

Let me go!

PAULA.

Answer me! You've always hated me! [_Shaking her._] Out with it!

ELLEAN.

You hurt me!

PAULA.

You've always hated me! You shall answer me!

ELLEAN.

Well, then, I have always--always----

PAULA.

What?

ELLEAN.

I have always known what you were!

PAULA.

Ah! Who--who told you?

ELLEAN.

Nobody but yourself. From the first moment I saw you I knew you were altogether unlike the good women I'd left; directly I saw you I knew what my father had done. You've wondered why I've turned from you! There--that's the reason! Oh, but this is a horrible way for the truth to come home to every one! Oh!

PAULA.

It's a lie! It's all a lie! [_Forcing_ ELLEAN _down upon her knees._] You shall beg my pardon for it. [_Ellean utters a loud shriek of terror._] Ellean, I'm a good woman! I swear I am! I've always been a good woman! You dare to say I've ever been anything else! It's a lie!

[_Throwing her off violently._

AUBREY _re-enters._

AUBREY.

Paula! [PAULA _staggers back as_ AUBREY _advances. Raising_ ELLEAN.] What's this? What's this?

ELLEAN.

[_Faintly._] Nothing. It--it's my fault. Father, I--I don't wish to see Captain Ardale again.

[_She goes out,_ AUBREY _slowly following her to the door._

PAULA.

Aubrey, she--she guesses.

AUBREY.

Guesses?

PAULA.

About me--and Ardale.

AUBREY.

About you--and Ardale?

PAULA.

She says she suspected my character from the beginning ... that's why she's always kept me at a distance ... and now she sees through----

[_She falters; he helps her to the ottoman, where she sits._

AUBREY.

[_Bending over her._] Paula, you must have said something--admitted something----

PAULA.

I don't think so. It--it's in my face.

AUBREY.

What?

PAULA.

She tells me so. She's right! I'm tainted through and through; anybody can see it, anybody can find it out. You said much the same to me to-night.

AUBREY.

If she has got this idea into her head we must drive it out, that's all. We must take steps to---- What shall we do? We had better--better----What--what?

[_Sitting and staring before him._

PAULA.

Ellean! So meek, so demure! You've often said she reminded you of her mother. Yes, I know now what your first marriage was like.

AUBREY.

We must drive this idea out of her head. We'll do something. What shall we do?

PAULA.

She's a regular woman too. She could forgive _him_ easily enough--but _me_! That's just a woman!

AUBREY.

What _can_ we do?

PAULA.

Why, nothing! She'd have no difficulty in following up her suspicions. Suspicions! You should have seen how she looked at me! [_He buries his head in his hands. There is silence for a time, then she rises slowly, and goes and sits beside him._] Aubrey!

AUBREY.

Yes.

PAULA.

I'm very sorry.

[_Without meeting her eyes, he lays his hand on her arm for a moment._

AUBREY.

Well, we must look things straight in the face. [_Glancing round._] At any rate, we've done with this.

PAULA.

I suppose so. [_After a brief pause._] Of course, she and I can't live under the same roof any more. You know she kissed me to-night, of her own accord.

AUBREY.

I asked her to alter towards you.

PAULA.

That was it, then.

AUBREY.

I--I'm sorry I sent her away.

PAULA.

It was my fault; I made it necessary.

AUBREY.

Perhaps now she'll propose to return to the convent,--well, she must.

PAULA.

Would you like to keep her with you and--and leave me?

AUBREY.

Paula----!

PAULA.

You needn't be afraid I'd go back to--what I was. I couldn't.

AUBREY.

Sssh, for God's sake! We--you and I--we'll get out of this place ... what a fool I was to come here again!

PAULA.

You lived here with your first wife!

AUBREY.

We'll get out of this place and go abroad again, and begin afresh.

PAULA.

Begin afresh?

AUBREY.

There's no reason why the future shouldn't be happy for us--no reason that I can see----

PAULA.

Aubrey!

AUBREY.

Yes?

PAULA.

You'll never forget this, you know.

AUBREY.

This?

PAULA.

To-night, and everything that's led up to it. Our coming here, Ellean, our quarrels--cat and dog!--Mrs. Cortelyon, the Orreyeds, this man! What an everlasting nightmare for you!

AUBREY.

Oh, we can forget it, if we choose.

PAULA.

That was always your cry. How _can_ one do it!

AUBREY.

Well make our calculations solely for the future, talk about the future, think about the future.

PAULA.

I believe the future is only the past again, entered through another gate.

AUBREY.

That's an awful belief.

PAULA.

To-night proves it. You must see now that, do what we will, go where we will, you'll be continually reminded of--what I was. I see it.

AUBREY.

You're frightened to-night; meeting this man has frightened you. But that sort of thing isn't likely to recur. The world isn't quite so small as all that.

PAULA.

Isn't it! The only great distances it contains are those we carry within ourselves--the distances that separate husbands and wives, for instance. And so it'll be with us. You'll do your best--oh, I know that--you're a good fellow. But circumstances will be too strong for you in the end, mark my words.

AUBREY.

Paula----!

PAULA.

Of course I'm pretty now--I'm pretty still--and a pretty woman, whatever else she may be, is always--well, endurable. But even now I notice that the lines of my face are getting deeper; so are the hollows about my eyes. Yes, my face is covered with little shadows that usen't to be there. Oh, I know I'm "going off." I hate paint and dye and those messes, but, by-and-by, I shall drift the way of the others; I sha'n't he able to help myself. And then, some day--perhaps very suddenly, under a queer, fantastic light at night or in the glare of the morning--that horrid, irresistible truth that physical repulsion forces on men and women will come to you, and you'll sicken at me.

AUBREY.

I----!

PAULA.

You'll see me then, at last, with other people's eyes; you'll see me just as your daughter does now, as all wholesome folks see women like me. And I shall have no weapon to fight with--not one serviceable little bit of prettiness left me to defend myself with! A worn-out creature--broken up, very likely, some time before I ought to be--my hair bright, my eyes dull, my body too thin or too stout, my cheeks raddled and ruddled--a ghost, a wreck, a caricature, a candle that gutters, call such an end what you like! Oh, Aubrey, what shall I be able to say to you then? And this is the future you talk about! I know it--I know it! [_He is still sitting staring forward; she rocks herself to and fro as if in pain._] Oh, Aubrey! Oh! Oh!

AUBREY.

Paula----!

[_Trying to comfort her._

PAULA.

Oh, and I wanted so much to sleep to-night! [_Laying her head upon his shoulder. From the distance, in the garden, there comes the sound of_ DRUMMLE'S _voice; he is singing as he approaches the house._] That's Cayley, coming back from The Warren. [_Starting up._] He doesn't know, evidently. I--I won't see him!

[_She goes out quickly._ DRUMMLE'S _voice comes nearer._ AUBREY _rouses himself and snatches up a book from the table, making a pretence of reading. After a moment or two,_ DRUMMLE _appears at the window and looks in._

DRUMMLE.

Aha! my dear chap!

AUBREY.

Cayley?

DRUMMLE.

[_Coming into the room._] I went down to The Warren after you?

AUBREY.

Yes?

DRUMMLE.

Missed you. Well? I've been gossiping with Mrs. Cortelyon. Confound you, I've heard the news!

AUBREY.

What have you heard?

DRUMMLE.

What have I heard! Why--Ellean and young Ardale! [_Looking at_ AUBREY _keenly._] My dear Aubrey! Alice is under the impression that you are inclined to look on the affair favourably.

AUBREY.

[_Rising and advancing to_ DRUMMLE.] You've not--met--Captain Ardale?

DRUMMLE.

No. Why do you ask? By-the-bye, I don't know that I need tell you--but it's rather strange. He's not at The Warren to-night.

AUBREY.

No?

DRUMMLE.

He left the house half-an-hour ago, to stroll about the lanes; just now a note came from him, a scribble in pencil, simply telling Alice that she would receive a letter from him to-morrow. What's the matter? There's nothing very wrong, is there! My dear chap, pray forgive me if I'm asking too much.

AUBREY.

Cayley, you--you urged me to send her away!

DRUMMLE.

Ellean! Yes, yes. But--but--by all accounts this is quite an eligible young fellow. Alice has been giving me the history----

AUBREY.

Curse him! [_Hurling his book to the floor._] Curse him! Yes, I do curse him--him and his class! Perhaps I curse myself too in doing it. He has only led "a man's life"--just as I, how many of us, have done! The misery he has brought on me and mine it's likely enough we, in our time, have helped to bring on others by this leading "a man's life"! But I do curse him for all that. My God, _I've_ nothing more to fear--I've paid _my_ fine! And so I can curse him in safety. Curse him! Curse him!

DRUMMLE.

In Heaven's name, tell me what's happened?

AUBREY.

[_Gripping_ DRUMMLE's _arm._] Paula! Paula!

DRUMMLE.

What?

AUBREY.

They met to-night here. They--they--they're not strangers to each other.

DRUMMLE.

Aubrey!

AUBREY.

Curse him! My poor, wretched wife! My poor, wretched wife!

[_The door opens and_ ELLEAN _appears. The two men turn to her. There is a moment's silence._

ELLEAN.

Father ... father...!

AUBREY.

Ellean?

ELLEAN.

I--I want you. [_He goes to her._] Father ... go to Paula! [_He looks into her face, startled._] Quickly--quickly! [_He passes her to go out, she seizes his arm, with a cry._] No, no; don't go!

[_He shakes her off and goes._ ELLEAN _staggers back towards_ DRUMMLE.

DRUMMLE.

[_To_ ELLEAN.] What do you mean? What do you mean?

ELLEAN.

I--I went to her room--to tell her I was sorry for something I had said to her. And I _was_ sorry--I _was_ sorry. I heard the fall. I--I've seen her. It's horrible.

DRUMMLE.

She--she has----!

ELLEAN.

Killed--herself? Yes--yes. So everybody will say. But I know--I helped to kill her. If I had only been merciful!

[_She faints upon the ottoman. He pauses for a moment irresolutely--then he goes to the door, opens it, and stands looking out._