UNDER THE ROSE.
(A Story in Scenes.)
Scene XV.—The Drawing-room at Hornbeam Lodge. Time—Monday evening, about six. Althea is listlessly striking chords on the piano; Mrs. Toovey is sitting by one of the windows.
Mrs. Toovey (to herself). Where did Theophilus go last Saturday? He is either the most consummate hypocrite, or the most blameless lamb that ever breathed; and I'm sure I don't know which! But I'll find out when Charles comes. It would be almost a relief to find Pa was guilty; for, if he isn't—— But, thank goodness, he is not very likely ever to hear where I was that evening!
Althea (to herself). It couldn't really have been Mamma in that box; she has never made the slightest reference to it. I almost wish she had been there; it would have been easier to tell her. What would she say if she knew I had gone to such a place as the Eldorado?
[She drifts, half unconsciously, into the air of "The Hansom Cabman."
Mrs. Toov. What is that tune you are playing, Thea?
Alth. (flushing). N—nothing, Mamma. Only a tune I heard when I was in town. The—the boys in the street whistle it.
Mrs. Toov. Then it's hardly fit to be played upon my piano. I shouldn't wonder if it came out of one of those abominable music-halls!
Alth. (to herself). She must mean something by that. If she was there after all! (Aloud, distressed.) Mamma, what makes you say that? Do—do you know?
Mrs. Toov. (in equal confusion). Know! Explain yourself, child. How could I possibly——? (To herself.) I shall betray myself if I am not more careful!
Alth. I—I thought—I don't know—it was the way you said it. (To herself.) I very nearly did for myself that time!
Mrs. Toov. (as Althea strikes more chords). For goodness' sake, Thea, either play a proper piece, or shut up the piano and take up some useful work. There's the crazy-quilt I've begun for the Bazaar; you might get on with that.
Alth. (closing the piano). The colours are so frightful, Mamma!
Mrs. Toov. What does that signify, my dear? When it's for a charity! Really, I'm beginning to think this visit to town has not had at all a good effect upon you. You've come back unable to settle down to anything. Yes, I see a great change in you, Althea, and it's not confined to the worldly way you do your hair. I sincerely hope it will not strike Mr. Curphew as it does me. You know he is dining here this evening? I told him in my note that if he liked to come a little earlier——(Significantly.) I think he has something to say to you, Thea. Perhaps you can guess what?
Alth. (twisting her hands nervously). Oh no, Mamma. I—I can't see Mr. Curphew—not alone, I mean.
Mrs. Toov. Don't be ridiculous, my dear. You know perfectly well that he admires you. He has very properly spoken first to your father, and we both consider you a most fortunate girl. He is a truly excellent young man, which is the first consideration; and, what is even more important, he is, as far as I can gather, making an excellent income. And you can't deny that you were interested in him from the very first.
Alth. N—not in that way, Mamma. At least, not any longer.
Mrs. Toov. Nonsense. If Mr. Curphew proposes, I shall be seriously annoyed if you put him off with any foolish shilly-shallying. Mind that. And here he is—at least, it's somebody at the front door. I've mislaid my glasses as usual. And if it is Mr. Curphew, I shall send him in here at once; so remember what I've said. (She goes out into the hall, and discovers her nephew Charles.) So it is you, Charles! You're rather earlier than I expected.
Charles. Nothing much doing at the office, Aunt. And I thought I might have to dress for dinner, you know.
Mrs. Toov. You ought to know by this time that we are plain people and do not not follow the senseless fashion of dressing ourselves up for a family dinner, but I am glad you came early, all the same, Charles, as I should like a little talk with you before your Uncle comes in. We had better go into the study. (To herself, as she leads the way.) Now I shall get it out of him!
End of Scene XV.
Scene XVI.—In the Study.
Mrs. Toovey (fixing Charles with her eye). What is this I hear of your proceedings last Saturday night, Charles? Come, you can't deceive me, you know!
Charles. I never made any secret about my proceedings. I told Uncle we might probably drop into the Eldorado or somewhere after dinner.
Mrs. Toov. (to herself, in consternation). The Eldorado? they did go there then! If only they didn't see me! (Aloud.) Yes, Charles, go on. And while you were there, did you see anyone you—you thought you recognised?
Charles (to himself). She's heard! (Aloud.) I should rather think I did, Aunt. Never was more surprised in my life.
Mrs. Toov. (with a groan). And—and was your Uncle surprised, too, Charles?
Charles. Uncle? I haven't told him yet.
Mrs. Toov. But he was there, Charles, with you; he must have seen—whatever you did! Or didn't he?
Charles. At the Valhalla? my dear Aunt!
Mrs. Toov. Who's talking about a Valhalla? I mean the Eldorado, of course; that was where you said you went!
Charles. No—no, we couldn't get in at the El.; all the stalls gone, so we went to the Val. instead. Just the same sort of thing.
Mrs. Toov. (to herself, relieved). To the Val.! What a fright I've had for nothing! (Aloud.) I quite understand, Charles. You took your Uncle to a place called the Val., not the—er—El. What did you see there? that's the point!
Charles. I didn't take Uncle there; I was with a man from our office when I saw him. I must have seen him there often enough, but somehow I never spotted him before. It was the make-up, the disguise, you know, wig and moustache, and all that.
Mrs. Toov. Do you mean to say your Uncle attends music-halls disguised in a wig and moustache? Charles, who was he with? I will know!
Charles (in fits of laughter). Uncle? At the Val. in disguise? now, is it likely? I thought you knew all about it, or I shouldn't have said a word!
Mrs. Toov. You have said too much to stop now, Charles. It is useless to try to turn it off like that. If it was not Pa you recognised at this Val. place, who was it?
Charles (to himself). If I don't tell her she'll only go on suspecting poor old Uncle Theo. (Aloud.) Well, you're bound to find it out sooner or later; and I admire him all the more for it myself. I'd no idea he had it in him. Shows how mistaken you may be in fellows.
Mrs. Toov. I've yet to learn who and what you are talking about, Charles!
Charles. Why, that quiet, modest friend of yours, Mr. Clarence Curphew, if you must know!
Mrs. Toov. I don't believe it. Mr. Curphew is not at all the sort of young man to spend his money in such resorts.
"Dear, dear me!"
Charles. He don't spend it there—he makes it. My dear Aunt, you ought to feel honoured by having such a distinguished acquaintance. Don't you remember my mentioning the great music-hall star, Walter Wildfire? You must. Well, Clarence Curphew and Walter Wildfire are one and the same person—honour bright, they are!
Mrs. Toov. (sinking back with a gasp). A—a music-hall star! And I have been urging Althea to—— Oh, how fortunate it is I have been warned in time! He shall not see her—I will write and put him off—at once!
[Mr. Toovey enters blandly.
Mr. Toov. Ah, Charles, my boy, so here you are? that's right, that's right. You, too, Cornelia? (To her, in an undertone.) It's all right, my love—our dear young friend, Mr. Curphew, you know—we met on the doorstep just now, and I've left him and Thea together in the drawing-room. I thought it was best, eh?
[He looks to her for approval.
Mrs. Toov. You've left—— But there, I might have known! No, don't speak to me, Pa—there's no time to lose! Come with me, Charles, I may want you.
[She rustles out of the room, followed by Charles.
Mr. Toov. (looking after her in mild perplexity). Dear, dear me! I wonder what can be the matter now. Cornelia seems so very—— I hardly like to go and see—and yet, perhaps, I ought—perhaps I ought. There's one comfort, whatever it is, it can't have anything to do with that dreadful Eldorado. Yes, I'd better go and look into it!
[He goes out.—End of Scene XVI.
"USING LANGUAGE."
The Squire. "Well, Smith, I want your advice. Hadn't we better let them have their way this time?"
Smith. "No, no, Sir. Stick to your rights! What I say is—'Give such People a Hinch and they'll take a Hell'—if you'll pardon my usin' such Strong Language!"