Act II
It is the next morning, Sunday.
It appears that at John's country place they have breakfast at small tables out upon the broad, shaded terrace overlooking the glorious view of his little farm.
Ernest and Theodore, the scientist and the clergyman, are breakfasting together. The others are either breakfasting in their rooms or are not yet down, it being Sunday.
The man of God is enjoying his material blessings heartily. Also he seems to be enjoying his view of the man of science, who eats little and says less.
Theodore
[with coffee-cup poised]
What's the matter with your appetite this morning, Ernest? [Ernest, gazing up at one of the second-story windows, does not hear. The door opens. He starts. Then, seeing it's only a servant with food, he sighs.] Expecting something? The codfish balls? Well, here they are. [Ernest refuses the proffered codfish balls, scowls, brings out cigar case, lights cigar, looks at watch, and fidgets.] Oh, I know—you're crazy to go with me—to church! [Ernest doesn't hear. Creates a cloud of smoke.] Their regular rector is ill. So I agreed to take the service this morning.... Always the way when off for a rest ... isn't it? [No answer. Theodore gets up, walks around the table, and shouts in Ernest's face.] Isn't it?
Ernest
[startled]
I beg your pardon?
Theodore
[laughs, Ernest wondering what's the joke]
Oh, you're hopeless! [Going.] I can't stand people who talk so much at breakfast.
Ernest
[suddenly wakes up]
Wait a minute. Sit down. Have a cigar. Let's talk about God. [Theodore stops smiling.] But I mean it. I'd like to have a religion myself.
Theodore
I had an idea you took no stock in religion.
[Takes the cigar. Ernest holds a match for him.
Ernest
[enthusiastically]
Just what I thought, until ... well, I've made a discovery, a great discovery!
Theodore
A scientific discovery?
Ernest
[with a wave of the hand]
It makes all science look like a ... mere machine.
Theodore
Well, if you feel so strongly about it ... better come to church after all!
Ernest
I'm not talking about the Church—I'm talking about religion.
Theodore
You're not talking about religion; you're talking about—love.
Ernest
[quietly]
Certainly; the same thing, isn't it? I'm talking about the divine fire that glorifies life and perpetuates it—the one eternal thing we mortals share with God.... If that isn't religious, what is? [Theodore smiles indulgently.] Tell me, Theodore—you know I wasn't allowed to go to church when young, and since then I've always worked on the holy Sabbath day, like yourself—does the Church still let innocent human beings think there's something inherently wrong about sex? [Theodore drops his eyes. Ernest disgusted with him.] I see! Good people should drop their eyes even at the mention of the word.
Theodore
Sex is a necessary evil, I admit, but——
Ernest
[laughs]
Evil! The God-given impulse which accounts for you sitting there, for me sitting here? The splendid instinct which writes our poetry, builds our civilizations, founds our churches—the very heart and soul of life is evil. Really, Theodore, I don't know much about religion, but that strikes me as blasphemy against the Creator.
Theodore
Very scientific, my boy, very modern; but the Church believed in marriage before Science was born.
Ernest
As a compromise with evil?
Theodore
As a sacrament of religion—and so do you!
Ernest
Good! Then why practise and preach marriage as a sacrament of property? "Who giveth this woman to be married to this man—" Women are still goods and chattels to be given or sold, are they?
Theodore
Oh, nonsense!
Ernest
Then why keep on making them promise to "serve and obey"? Why marry them with a ring—the link of the ancient chain? [He smiles.] In the days of physical force it was made of iron—now of gold. But it's still a chain, isn't it?
Theodore
Symbols, my dear fellow, not to be taken in a literal sense—time-honored and beautiful symbols.
Ernest
But why insult a woman you respect—even symbolically?
Theodore
[with a laugh]
Oh, you scientists!
Ernest
[joining in the laugh]
We try to find the truth—and you try to hide it, eh? Well, there's one thing we have in common, anyway—one faith I'll never doubt again; I believe in Heaven now. I always shall.
Theodore
Do you mind telling me why, my boy?
Ernest
Not in the least. I've been there. [John comes out to breakfast. He is scowling.] Good morning; could you spare me five minutes?
John
[ringing bell]
Haven't had breakfast yet.
Ernest
After breakfast?
John
I've an appointment with young Baker.
Ernest
[smiles]
I'll wait my turn.
John
Going to be pretty busy to-day—you, too, I suppose, if you're sailing to-morrow.
Ernest
I can postpone sailing. This is more important.
John
I should hate to see anything interfere with your career.
[Lucy also arrives for breakfast. She "always pours her husband's coffee."
Ernest
I appreciate your interest, but I'll look out for my "career." [To Lucy.] Could you tell me when your sister will be down?
John
[overriding Lucy]
My sister is ill and won't be down at all ... until after you leave.
[Lucy pretends not to hear. Theodore walks away.
Ernest
[aroused, but calm]
I don't believe you quite understand. It is a matter of indifference to me whether we have a talk or not. Entirely out of courtesy to you that I suggest it.
John
Don't inconvenience yourself on my account.
Ernest
[shrugs shoulders and turns to Theodore]
Wait, I think I'll sit in church till train time.
Theodore
[smoothing it over]
Come along. I'm going to preach about marriage!
[Theodore starts off.
Ernest
[going, turns to Lucy]
Thanks for your kindness. Will you ask the valet to pack my things, please? I'll call for them on the way to the station. [To John.] Do you understand? I have no favors to ask of you. You don't own your sister—she owns herself.
[The scientist goes to church.
John
[with a loud laugh, turns to Lucy]
Rather impertinent for a two-thousand-dollar man, I think. [Resumes breakfast, picks up newspaper. Lucy says nothing, attending to his wants solicitously.] Bah! what does this highbrow know about the power men of my sort can use ... when we have to? [Lucy cringes dutifully in silence. John, paper in one hand, brusquely passes cup to Lucy with other.] Helen got her own way about college, about work, about living in her own apartment—but if she thinks she can put this across! Humph! These modern women must learn their place. [Lucy, smiling timidly, returns cup. John takes it without thanks, busied in newspapers. A look of resentment creeps over Lucy's pretty face, now that he can't see her.] Ah! I've got something up my sleeve for that young woman. [Lucy says nothing, looks of contempt while he reads.] Well, why don't you say something?
Lucy
[startled]
I thought you didn't like me to talk at breakfast, dear.
John
Think I like you to sit there like a mummy? [No reply.] Haven't you anything to say? [Apparently not.] You never have any more, nothing interesting.... Does it ever occur to you that I'd like to be diverted?... No!
Lucy
Yes.... Would you mind very much if ... if I left you, John?
John
Left me? When—where—how long?
Lucy
[gathering courage]
Now—any place—entirely.
John
[bursts out laughing]
What suddenly put this notion in your head?
Lucy
I'm sorry—John, but I've had it—oh, for years. I never dared ask you till now.
John
[still glancing over paper]
Like to leave me, would you?... You have no grounds for divorce, my dear.
Lucy
But you will have—after I leave you.
John
[yawns]
You have no lover to leave with.
Lucy
[daintily]
But couldn't I just desert you—without anything horrid?
John
[reads]
No money to desert with.
Lucy
[springs up—at bay]
You won't let me escape decently when I tell you I don't want to stay? When I tell you I can't stand being under your roof any longer? When I tell you I'm sick of this life?
John
[gets up calmly]
But, you see, I can stand it. I want you to stay. I'm not sick of it. You belong to me.
Lucy
[shrinking away as he approaches]
Don't touch me! Every time you come near me I have to nerve myself to stand it.
John
What's got into you? Don't I give you everything money can buy? My God, if I only gave you something to worry about; if I ran after other women like old man Baker——
Lucy
If you only would!—Then you'd let me alone. To me you are repulsive.
John
[taking hold of her]
Lucy! You are my wife.
Lucy
[looking him straight in the eye]
But you don't respect me, and I—I hate you—oh, how I hate you!
John
[holds her fast]
I am your husband, your lawful husband.
Lucy
[stops struggling]
Yes, this is lawful—but, oh, what laws you men have made for women!
[The Judge comes out, carrying a telegram.
Judge
Rather early in the day for conjugal embraces, if you should ask me. [John and Lucy separate.] Makes me quite sentimental and homesick.
[Judge raises telegram and kisses it.
Lucy
[calming herself]
From Aunt Julia again? Do you get telegrams every day from Reno?
Judge
No, but she caught cold. Went to the theatre last night and caught a cold. So she wired me—naturally; got the habit of telling me her troubles, can't break it, even in Reno.
John
I thought she hated the theatre!
Judge
So she does, but I'm fond of it; she went for my sake. She's got the habit of sacrificing herself for me. Just as hard to break good habits as bad.
John
True women enjoy sacrificing themselves.
Judge
Yes, that's what we tell them. Well, we ought to know. We make 'em do it. [Brings out a fountain pen and sits abruptly.] That's what I'll tell her. I can hear her laugh. You know her laugh.
Lucy
[rings for a servant]
A telegraph blank?
Judge
[with a humorous expression he brings a whole pad of telegraph blanks out of another pocket]
Carry them with me nowadays. [Begins to write.] Wish I hadn't sold my Western Union, John.
John
I don't believe you want that divorce very much.
Judge
It doesn't matter what I want—what she wants is the point. You must give the woman you marry tutti-frutti, divorces—everything.... Why, I've got the habit myself, and God knows I don't enjoy sacrifice—I'm a man! The superior sex!
John
I don't believe you appreciate that wife of yours.
Judge
[between the words he's writing]
Don't I? It isn't every wife that'd travel away out to Reno—you know how she hates travelling—and go to a theatre—and catch a cold—and get a divorce—all for the sake of an uncongenial husband. [Suddenly getting an idea, strikes table.] I know what gave her a cold. She raised all the windows in her bedroom—for my sake!—I always kept them down for her sake. I'll have to scold her. [Bends to his writing again.] Poor little thing! She doesn't know how to take care of herself without me. I doubt if she ever will.
[Looks over telegram. A Servant comes, takes telegram, and goes.
John
Uncle Everett, I want your advice.
Judge
John! do you want a divorce?
John
No, we are not that sort, are we, Lucy? [No answer.] Are we, dear?
Lucy
[after a pause]
No, we are not that sort!
John
We believe in the sanctity of the home, the holiness of marriage.
Lucy
Yes, we believe in—"the holiness of marriage!"
[Turns away, covering her face with her hands and shuddering.
John
Lucy, tell Helen and Jean to come here. [Lucy goes.] Well, young Baker spoke to me about Jean last night. I told him I'd think it over and give him my decision this morning.
Judge
That's right. Mustn't seem too anxious, John. When the properly qualified male offers one of our dependent females a chance at woman's only true career, of course it's up to us to look disappointed.
John
But I didn't bring up the little matter you spoke of.
Judge
About that chorus girl?... Afraid of scaring him off?
John
Not at all, but—well, it's all over and it's all fixed. No scandal, no blackmail.
Judge
Hum! By the way, got anything on Hamilton?
John
I don't believe in saints myself.
Judge
I see.... Good thing, for Jean Rex isn't a saint. I suppose you'd break off the match.
[Rex, in riding clothes, comes out. John salutes him warmly. The Judge is reading the paper.
Rex
[not eagerly]
Well?
John
Well, of course, you realize that you're asking a great deal of me, Rex, but—[Offers hand to Rex warmly.] Be good to her, my boy, be good to her.
Rex
[shaking hands, forced warmth]
Thanks awfully. See-what-I-mean? [To Judge.] Congratulate me, Judge; I'm the happiest of men.
Judge
[looking up from newspaper]
So I see. Don't let it worry you.
[Jean, in riding costume, comes from the house.
John
[signalling Judge to leave]
If Helen asks for me, I'm in the garden.
Judge
If any telegrams come for me, I'm writing to my wife!
[Jean and Rex alone, they look at each other, not very loverlike.
Jean
[impulsively]
You weren't in love with me yesterday. You aren't now. You would get out of it if you honorably could. But you honorably can't! So you have spoken to John; you are going to see it through, because you're a good sport.... I admire you for that, Rex, too much to hold you to it. You are released.
Rex
[amazed]
Why—why—you—you don't suppose I want to be released?
Jean
Well, I do!... Yesterday I let you propose to me when I cared for some one else. That's not fair to you, to me, to him!
Rex
[in a sudden fury]
Who is he? What do you mean by this? Why didn't you tell me?
Jean
I am telling you now. What have you ever told me about yourself?
Rex
[blinking]
You had no right to play fast and loose with me.
Jean
I'm making the only amends I can. You are free, I tell you.
Rex
I don't want to be free! He can't have you! You are mine! If you think you can make me stop loving you——
Jean
[interrupting]
Love, Rex? Only jealousy. You've never been in love with me—you've always been in love with Helen. But you couldn't get her, so you took me. Isn't that true, Rex?
Rex
[after an uncomfortable pause]
I'll be honest with you, too. Yesterday I wasn't really very serious. I felt like a brute afterward. You tried your best to prevent what happened and ran away from me. But now——
Jean
Don't you know why I ran away? To make you follow. I made you catch me. I made you kiss me. Then you realized that we had been thrown together constantly—deliberately thrown together, if you care to know it—and, well, that's how many marriages are made. But I shan't marry on such terms. It's indecent!
Rex
[another pause]
I never thought a woman could be capable of such honesty!... Oh, what a bully sport you are! You aren't like the rest that have been shoved at me. Why, I can respect you. You are the one for me.
[He tries to take her.
Jean
[restraining him with dignity]
I am sorry, Rex, but I am not for you.
Rex
Jean! without you ... don't you see—I'll go straight to the devil!
Jean
That old, cowardly dodge? Any man who has no more backbone than that—why, I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man in the world.
Rex
[frantic to possess what he cannot have]
You won't, eh? We'll see about that. I want you now as I never wanted anything in my life, and I'll win you from him yet. You'll see!
[Helen now appears.
Helen
Oh, I beg your pardon. Lucy said John was out here.
Jean
I'll call him.
[She runs down into the garden.
Rex
I'll call him.
[He runs after Jean. Helen helplessly watches them go, sighs, standing by the garden steps until John ascends. He looks at Helen a moment, wondering how to begin. She looks so capable and unafraid of him.
John
If you hadn't gone to college, you could have done what Jean is doing.
Helen
[with a shrug and a smile]
But how proud you must be, John, to have a sister who isn't compelled to marry one man while in love with another. Now, aren't you glad I went to college?
[She laughs good-naturedly at him.
John
Humph! If you think I'd let a sister of mine marry one of old man Baker's two-thousand-dollar employees——
Helen
Why, John, didn't Ernest tell you? Doctor Hawksbee has offered him a partnership. Just think of that!
John
What! Going back into private practice?
Helen
But it's such a fashionable practice. Hawksbee's made a million at it.
John
But the institute needs Hamilton.
Helen
Ah, but we need the money!
John
[disconcerted]
So you are going to spoil a noble career, are you? That's selfish. I didn't think it of you. There are thousands of successful physicians, but there is only one Ernest Hamilton.
Helen
[laughs]
Oh, don't worry, John, he has promised me to keep his two-thousand-dollar job.
John
Ah, I'm glad. You must let nothing interfere with his great humanitarian work. Think what it means to the lives of little children! Think what it means to the future of the race! Why, every one says his greatest usefulness has hardly begun!
Helen
Oh, I know all that, I've thought of all that.
John
Now, such men should be kept free from cares and anxiety. What was it you said yesterday? "He needs every cent of his salary for books, travel, all the advantages he simply must have for efficiency." To marry a poor man—most selfish thing a girl could do!
Helen
Yes, John, that's what I said yesterday.
John
[scoring]
But that was before he asked you! [Helen smiles. He sneers.] Rather pleased with yourself now, aren't you? "Just a woman after all"—heroine of cheap magazine story! Sacrifices career for love!... All very pretty and romantic, my dear—but how about the man you love! Want to sacrifice his career, too?
Helen
But I'm not going to sacrifice what you are pleased to call my career.... Therefore he won't have to sacrifice his.
John
What! going to keep on working? Will he let the woman he loves work!
Helen
[demure]
Well, you see, he says I'm "too good" to loaf.
John
Humph! who'll take care of your home when you're at work? Who'll take care of your work when you're at home. Look at it practically. To maintain such a home as he needs on such a salary as he has—why, it would take all your time, all your energy. To keep him in his class you'll have to drop out of your own, become a household drudge, a servant.
Helen
And if I am willing?
John
Then where's your intellectual companionship? How'll you help his work? Expense for him, disillusionment for both. If you're the woman you pretend to be, you won't marry that man!
Helen
[strong]
The world needs his work, but he needs mine, and we both need each other.
John
[stronger]
And marriage would only handicap his work, ruin yours, and put you apart. You know that's true. You've seen it happen with others. You have told me so yourself!
Helen
Then that settles it! We must not, cannot, shall not marry. We have no right to marry. I agree with all you say—it would not join us together; it would put us asunder.
John
And you'll give him up? Good! Good!
Helen
Give him up? Never! The right to work, the right to love—those rights are inalienable. No, we'll give up marriage but not each other.
John
But—but—I don't understand.
Helen
[straight in his eyes]
We need each other—in our work and in our life—and we're to have each other—until life is ended and our work is done. Now, do you understand?
John
[recoiling]
Are you in your right mind? Think what you're saying.
Helen
I have thought all night, John. You have shown me how to say it.
John
But, but—why, this is utterly unbelievable! Why I'm not even shocked. Do you notice? I'm not even shocked? Because everything you have said, everything you have done—it all proves that you are a good woman.
Helen
If I were a bad woman, I'd inveigle him into marriage, John.
John
Inveigle! Marriage! Are you crazy? ... Oh, this is all one of your highbrow jokes!
Helen
John, weren't you serious when you said marriage would destroy him?
John
But this would destroy you!
Helen
Well, even if that were so, which is more important to the world? Which is more important to your "great humanitarian work"?
John
Ah, very clever! A bluff to gain my consent to marrying him—a trick to get his salary raised.
Helen
[with force]
John, nothing you can do, nothing you can say, will ever gain my consent to marrying him. I've not told you half my reasons.
John
My God! my own sister! And did you, for one moment, dream that I would consent to that!
Helen
Not for one moment. I'm not asking your consent. I'm just telling you.
John
[after scrutinizing her]
Ridiculous! If you really meant to run away with this fellow, would you come and tell me, your own brother?
Helen
Do you suppose I'd run away without telling, even my own brother?
John
[looks at her a moment; she returns his gaze]
Bah!—all pose and poppycock! [He abruptly touches bell.] I'll soon put a stop to this nonsense. [Muttering.] Damnedest thing I ever heard of.
Helen
John, I understand exactly what I'm doing. You never will. But nothing you can do can stop me now.
John
We'll see about that. [The Butler appears.] Ask the others to step out here at once; all except Miss Jean and Mr. Baker, I don't want them. Is Doctor Hamilton about?
Butler
No, sir, he went to church.
John
All right. [The Butler disappears.] To church! My God!
[Helen pays no attention. She gazes straight out into the future, head high, eyes clear and wide open.
John
First of all, when the others come out, I'm going to ask them to look you in the face. Then you can make this statement to them, if you wish, and—look them in the face.
Helen
[with quiet scorn]
If I were being forced into such a marriage as poor little Jean's, I would kill myself. But in the eyes of God, who made love, no matter how I may appear in the eyes of man, who made marriage, I know that I am doing right.
[Lucy comes out, followed by the Judge.
John
[not seeing them. He is loud]
Say that to Uncle Everett and Cousin Theodore! Say that to my wife, stand up and say that to the world, if you dare.
Lucy
[to Judge]
She has told him!
John
[wheeling about]
What! did she tell you? Why didn't you come to me at once?
Lucy
[tremulous]
She said she wanted to tell you herself. I didn't think she'd dare!
[They all turn to look at Helen. Theodore comes back from church alone.
Helen
It had to be announced, of course.
Theodore
[advancing, beaming]
Announced? What is announced?
[All turn to him in a panic.
Lucy
[hurriedly]
Their engagement, Theodore!
Judge
[overriding Helen]
Yes, John has given his consent at last—example to society.
[Prods John.
John
[also overrides Helen]
Of course! One of the finest fellows in the world.
Theodore
[delighted]
And withal he has a deep religious nature. Congratulations. My dear, he'll make an ideal husband.
[Takes both Helen's hands, about to kiss her.
Helen
[can't help smiling]
Thank you, cousin, but I don't want a husband.
[A sudden silence.
Theodore
[looks from one to the other]
A lover's quarrel?—already!
Judge
[enjoying it]
No, Theodore, these lovers are in perfect accord. They both have conscientious scruples against marriage.
John
Conscientious!
Judge
So they are simply going to set up housekeeping without the mere formality of a wedding ceremony.
[Theodore drops Helen's hands.
Helen
[quietly]
We are going to do nothing of the sort.
Theodore
Uncle Everett!
[Takes her hands again.
Helen
We are not going to set up housekeeping at all. He will keep his present quarters and I mine.
John
But they are going to belong to each other.
Theodore
[drops Helen's hands—aghast]
I don't believe it.
Judge
[apart to Theodore]
The strike against marriage. It was bound to come.
Theodore
[to Judge]
But Church and State—[indicates self and Judge] must break this strike.
Helen
John is a practical man. He will prove to you that such a home as we could afford would only be a stumbling-block to Ernest's usefulness, a hollow sphere for mine. You can't fill it with mere happiness, Lucy, not for long, not for long.
Judge
[restrains Theodore about to reply]
Oh, let her get it all nicely talked out, then she'll take a nap and wake up feeling better. [Whispering.] We've driven her to this ourselves, but she really doesn't mean a word of it. Come, dear child, tell us all about this nightmare.
Helen
[smiles at the Judge]
Why, think what would happen to an eager intellect like Ernest Hamilton's if he had to come back to a narrow-minded apartment or a dreary suburb every evening and eat morbid meals opposite a housewife regaling him with the social ambitions of the other commuters. Ugh! It has ruined enough brilliant men already. [Judge restrains Theodore and others who want to interrupt.] Now at the University Club he dines, at slight expense compared with keeping up a home, upon the best food in the city with some of the best scientists in the country.... Marriage would divorce him from all that, would transplant him from an atmosphere of ideas into an atmosphere of worries. We should be forced into the same deadly ruts as the rest of you, uncle. Do you want me to destroy a great career, Theodore?
Theodore
Do you want to be a blot upon that career?
Helen
[lightly]
I'd rather be a blot than a blight, and that's what I'd be if I became his bride. Ask John.
Lucy
Do you want to be disgraced, despised, ostracized!
Helen
[smiles at Lucy]
A choice of evils, dear; of course, none of those costly well-kept wives on your visiting list will call upon me. But instead of one day at home, instead of making a tired husband work for me, I'll have all my days free to work with him, like the old-fashioned woman you admire! Instead of being an expense, I'll be a help to him; instead of being separated by marriage and divergent interests, we'll be united by love and common peril.... Isn't that the orthodox way to gain character, Theodore?
John
Oh, this is all damned nonsense! Look here, you've either got to marry this fellow now or else go away and never see him again; never, never!
Helen
Just what I thought, John. I intended never to see him again. That was why I let you send me abroad. But I'll never, never do it again. [Smiling like an engaged girl.] It was perfectly dreadful! Ernest couldn't get along without me at all, poor old thing. And I, why, I nearly died.
John
Then you'll have to be married, that's all.
The Others
Why, of course you'll have to, that's all.
Helen
[nodding]
Oh, I know just how you feel about it. I thought so, too, at first, but I can't marry Ernest Hamilton. I love him.
Theodore
But if you love him truly—marriage, my dear, brings together those who love each other truly.
Helen
But those who love each other truly don't need anything to bring them together. The difficulty is to keep apart.
[A reminiscent shudder.
John
That's all romantic rot! Every one feels that way at first.
Helen
At first! Then the practical object of marriage is not to bring together those who love each other, but to keep together those who do not? [To Lucy.] What a dreadful thing marriage must be!
[Judge chokes down a chuckle.
Judge
Ah, so you wish to be free to separate. Now we have it.
Helen
To separate? What an idea! On the contrary, we wish to be free to keep together! In the old days when they had interests in common marriage used to make man and woman one, but now it puts them apart. Can't you see it all about you? He goes down-town and works; she stays up-town and plays. He belongs to the laboring class; she belongs to the leisure class. At best, they seldom work at the same or similar trades. Legally it may be a union, but socially it's a mésalliance—in the eyes of God it's often worse.... No wonder that one in eleven ends in divorce. The only way to avoid spiritual separation is to shun legal union like a contagious disease. Modern marriage is divorce. [She turns to go, defiantly.] I've found my work, I've found my mate, and so has he! What more can any human being ask?
[The Butler appears.
Butler
[to John]
Doctor Hamilton is outside in a taxicab, sir.
John
Show him here at once!
Butler
He says he does not care to come in, sir, unless you are ready to talk to him now.
John
Well, of all the nerve! You bet I'm ready!
[Starts off. Helen starts, too.
Judge
[intercepting them calmly]
Wait a minute—wait a minute. [To Servant.] Ask Doctor Hamilton kindly to wait in the library. [The Butler goes.] Now, we're all a bit overwrought. [Soothes Helen, pats her hand, puts arm about her, gradually leads her back.] I still believe in you, Helen, I still believe in him. [To all.] It's simply that he's so deeply absorbed in his great work for mankind that he doesn't realize what he is asking Helen to do.
Helen
[quietly]
So I told him ... when he asked me to marry him.
All
What! He asked you to marry him?
Helen
Of course! Implored me to marry him. [She adds, smiling.] So absorbed—not in mankind, but in me—that he "didn't realize what he was asking me to do."
Lucy
[utterly amazed]
And you refused him! The man who loves you honorably?
Helen
[demurely]
Of course! You don't suppose I'd take advantage of the poor fellow's weakness. Women often do, I admit—even when not in love, sometimes.... Not because they're depraved but dependent.
John
[to all]
And then he proposed this wicked substitute! Poisoned her innocent mind—the bounder!
Helen
But he did nothing of the sort.
John
Oh, your own idea, was it?
Helen
Of course!
John
[to all]
And he is willing to take advantage of the poor child's ignorance—the cad! [To Theodore.] "Deep religious nature," eh?
Theodore
I can't believe it of him.
Helen
He knows nothing about it yet. I haven't even seen him since I made my decision.
[All exchange bewildered glances.
John
[apart to Judge]
We've got to get him off to Paris. It's our only hope.
Judge
[apart to John]
You can't stop her following. She's on the edge of the precipice—do you want to shove her over? You are dealing with big people here and a big passion.
[The Butler returns.
Butler
Doctor Hamilton asks to see Miss Helen while waiting.
Judge
[calmly to Butler]
Tell Doctor Hamilton that Miss Helen will see him here.
[The Butler leaves.
John
Are you crazy! We've got to keep 'em apart—our one chance to save her.
Judge
No, bring them together. That is our one chance. Come, we'll go down into the garden and they'll have a nice little talk. Nothing like talk, John, honest talk, to clear these marriage problems.
[Going.
John
And let them elope? In that taxicab?—not on your life!
[Runs to and fro.
Judge
Come, John, girls never notify the family in advance when they plan elopements. It's not done.
Theodore
[going]
Uncle Everett is right. Ernest will bring her to her senses. He has a deep religious nature.
[Judge leads John away to the garden.
Lucy
[lingering—to Helen]
If you offer yourself on such terms to the man who loves you honorably, he'll never look at you again.
Theodore
[leading Lucy off to garden]
Don't worry! She won't.
[Ernest rushes out to Helen.
Helen
Ernest!
Ernest
At last! [He takes her in his arms; she clings to him and gazes into his eyes; a long embrace.] Tell me that you're all right again.
Helen
[smiling with love and trust]
Except that you deserted me, dear, just when I needed you most. Ernest, Ernest! never leave me again.
Ernest
Deserted you? Why, your brother said you were ill.
Helen
Ah, I see ... he was mistaken.
Ernest
[jubilant and boyish]
But never mind now, I've got you at last, and I'll never, never let you go. You've got to sail with me to-morrow. Together! Oh, think! Together.
[Another embrace.
Helen
Are you sure you love me?
Ernest
[laughs from sheer joy of her nearness]
Am I sure? Ten million times more to-day than yesterday.
Helen
Even so ... it is not, and can never be, as I love you.
Ernest
[with her hands in his, gayly]
Then you can apologize.
Helen
Apologize?
Ernest
For saying, years and years ago—in other words, last night—that you didn't think you'd marry me after all. [She starts.] Why, what's the matter? You're trembling like a leaf. You are ill!
Helen
No; oh, no.
Ernest
[tenderly]
Still a few lingering doubts? I had hoped a good night's rest would put those little prejudices to sleep forever.
Helen
Sleep?
[She shakes her head, gazing at him soberly.
Ernest
So you could not sleep? Neither could I; I was too happy to sleep. I was afraid I'd miss some wondrous throbbing thought of your loveliness. [Takes her passive hand, puts a kiss in it, and closes it reverently while she looks into his eyes without moving.] Do you know, I'm disappointed in love. I always thought it meant soft sighs and pretty speeches. It means an agony of longing, delicious agony, but, oh, terrific. [She says nothing.] Dear, dear girl, it may be easy for you, but I can't stand much more of this.
Helen
Nor I.
Ernest
You must come to Paris with me or I'll stay home. All through the night I had waking visions of our being parted. Just when we had found each other at last. Some terrible impersonal monster stepped in between us and said: "No. Now that you have had your glimpse of heaven—away! Ye twain shall not enter here...." Silly, wasn't it? But I couldn't get the horror of it out of my head.
Helen
[nodding]
Do you know why, Ernest? Because it was in mine. It came from my thought to yours. You and I are attuned like wireless instruments. Even in the old blind days, there in the laboratory I used to read your mind. Shall I tell you the name of the monster that would put us asunder?... Its name is Marriage.
Ernest
But I need you. You know that. And you need me. It's too late. We are helpless now—in the clutch of forces more potent than our little selves—forces that brought us into the world—forces that have made the world. Whether you will or no, this beautiful binding power is sweeping you and me together. And you must yield.
Helen
[reaching for his hand]
Ah, my dear, could anything make it more beautiful, more binding than it is now?
Ernest
It is perfect. The one divine thing we share with God. The Church is right in that respect. I used to look upon marriage as a mere contract. It's a religious sacrament.
Helen
Does the wedding ceremony make it sacred?
Ernest
That mediæval incantation! No, love, which is given by God, not the artificial form made by man.
Helen
I knew it! I knew you'd see it—the mistake of all the ages. They've tried to make love fit marriage. It can't be done. Marriage must be changed to fit love. [Impulsively.] Yes, I'll go to Paris with you.
Ernest
[about to take her in his arms]
You darling!
Helen
[steps back]
But not as your wife.
Ernest
[stops—perplexed]
You mean ... without marriage?
Helen
I mean without marriage.
[They look into each other's eyes.
Ernest
A moment ago I thought I loved you as much as man could love woman. I was mistaken in you—I was mistaken in myself. For now I love you as man never loved before. You superb, you wonderful woman!
Helen
[holds out her hand to be shaken, not caressed]
Then you agree?
Ernest
[kneels, kisses her hand, and arises]
Of course not! You blessed girl, don't you suppose I understand? It's all for my sake. Therefore for your sake—no.
Helen
Then for my sake—for the sake of everything our love stands for!
Ernest
[laughing fondly]
Do you think I'd let you do anything for anybody's sake you're sure, later, to regret?
Helen
Then don't ask me to marry you, Ernest. We'd both regret that later. It would destroy the two things that have brought us together, love and work.
Ernest
Nonsense. Nothing could do that.... And besides, think of our poor horrified families! Think of the world's view!
Helen
Aren't we sacrificing enough for the world—money, comforts, even children? Must we also sacrifice each other to the world? Must we be hypocrites because others are? Must we, too, be cowards and take on the protective coloring of our species?
Ernest
Our ideas may be higher than society's, but society rewards and punishes its members according to its own ideas, not ours.
Helen
Do you want society's rewards? Do you fear society's punishment?
Ernest
[jubilantly enfolding her]
With you in my arms, I want nothing from heaven, I fear nothing from hell; but, my dear [shrugs and comes down to earth with a smile and releases her], consider the price, consider the price.
Helen
Aren't you willing to pay the price?
Ernest
I? Yes! But it's the woman, always the woman, who pays.
Helen
I am willing to pay.
Ernest
I am not willing to let you.
Helen
You'll have to be, dear. I shall go with you on my terms or not at all.
Ernest
[with decision]
You will come with me as my wife or stay at home.
Helen
[gasping]
Now? After all I've said, all I've done? Ernest: I've told the family! I relied upon you. I took for granted—Ernest, you wouldn't—you couldn't leave me behind now.
Ernest
Thanks to you and what you've made of me, I must and will.
Helen
Ernest!
[Opens her arms to him to take her.
Ernest
[about to enfold her—resists]
No! If you love me enough for that [points to her pleading hands]—I love you enough for this. [He turns to go.] Come when you're ready to marry me.
Helen
[shrill, excited, angered]
Do you think this has been easy for me? Do you think I'll offer myself again on any terms? Never!
Ernest
You must marry me—and you will.
Helen
You don't know me. Good-by!
Ernest
Very well!
[Ernest, afraid to stay, goes at once. She waits motionless until she hears the automobile carrying him away. She immediately turns from stone to tears, with a low wail. In utter despair, hands outstretched she sinks down upon a bench and buries her face in her hands.
Helen
Oh, Ernest!... How could you?
[Lucy, Theodore, Judge and John all hurry back, all excited.
Theodore
Did you see his horrified look?
Lucy
Fairly running away—revolted. Ah!
[Points at Helen. Helen arises, defiant, confident, calm.
John
[to Helen]
What did I tell you!
Lucy
You have thrown away the love of an honorable man.
Theodore
Trampled upon the finest feelings of a deep nature.
John
Let this be a lesson to you. You've lost your chance to marry, your chance to work, and now, by heavens! you will cut out "independence" and stay at home, where women belong, and live down this disgrace ... if you can.
Lucy
With one excuse or another—he'll stay away. He'll never come back.
Helen
[clear and confident as if clairvoyant]
He will! He is coming now.... He is crossing the hall.... He is passing through the library.... He's here!
[But she doesn't turn. Ernest reappears at the door and takes in the situation at a glance.
John
[still turned toward Helen]
He'll never look at you again, and I don't blame him! I'm a man; I know. We don't respect women who sell out so cheap.
Ernest
You lie! [All turn, astounded. Helen runs toward Ernest with a cry of joy. John starts to block her. To John.] Stop! You're not fit to touch her. No man is.
John
[with a sarcastic laugh]
Humph! I suppose that's why you ran away.
Ernest
Yes. To protect her from myself.
John
Then why come back?
Ernest
To protect her from you! You cowards, you hypocrites! [He rushes down to Helen, puts his strong arm about shoulder and whispers rapidly.] Just as I started, something stopped me. In a flash I saw ... all this.
Helen
[clasping his arm with both hands]
I made you come! I made you see!
John
[advances menacingly]
By what right are you here in my home? By what right do you take my sister in your arms?
Ernest
By a right more ancient than man-made law! I have come to the cry of my mate. I'm here to fight for the woman I love! [Arm about Helen, defies the world. To all.] My trip to Paris is postponed. One week from to-day gather all your family here, and in your home we'll make our declaration to the world.
John
In my home! Ha! Not if I know it.
Judge
[restraining John]
Play for time, John—he'll bring her around.
John
[to Ernest]
Do you mean to marry her or not? Speak my language!
[Ernest releases Helen and steps across to John.
Ernest
She decides that—not you.
[All turn to Helen.
Helen
Never!
John
[shaking off Judge. To Helen.]
You'll go with this damned fanatic only over my dead body.
Helen
[high]
And that will only cry aloud the thing you wish to hide from the world you fear.
[Just now Jean is seen slowly returning from the garden without Rex. Her pretty head is bent and, busy with her own sad thoughts, she is startled by the following:
Ernest
There are laws to prevent marriage in some cases but none to enforce marriage on women—unless they will it.
John
[beside himself with rage]
Enforce! Do you think I'll ever allow a sister of mine to marry a libertine?
Jean
[thinks they are discussing her, and is outraged]
But I'm not going to marry him! My engagement is broken.
[General consternation. Sobbing, Jean runs into house.
John
My God, what next? Lucy, don't let Rex get away! You know what he'll do—and when he sobers up, it may be too late. [To Ernest.] As for you, you snake, you get right out of here.
Judge
[in the sudden silence]
Now you've done it, John.
Ernest
Oh, very well, this is your property.
Helen
But I am not! I go, too!
[She runs to Ernest.
Theodore
Don't commit this sin!
John
Let her go! She's no sister of mine.
Judge
[the only calm one]
If she leaves this house now, it's all up.
John
A woman who will give herself to a man without marriage is no sister of mine.
Helen
[about to go, turns, leaning on Ernest. To all]
Give!... But if I sold myself, as you are forcing poor little Jean to do, to a libertine she does not love, who does not love her—that is not sin! That is respectability! To urge and aid her to entrap a man into marriage by playing the shameless tricks of the only trade men want women to learn—that is holy matrimony. But to give yourself of your own free will to the man you love and trust and can help, the man who loves and needs and has won the right to have you—oh, if this is sin, then let me live and die a sinner!
[She turns to Ernest, gives him a look of complete love and trust, then bursts into tears upon his shoulder, his arms enfolding her protectingly.