THE MAN FROM BLANKLEY'S.
A Story in Scenes.
Scene VI.—The Dining-room, as before. Lord Strathsporran is still endeavouring to grasp the situation.
Lord Strath. (to himself). Don't want to make a fuss, but I suppose I ought to do something. Good little chap, my host—didn't like to tell me I'd made a mistake; but his wife's a downright vixen. Better make it right with her. (To Mrs. Tid.). I—I'm afraid I ought to have found out long before this what an intruder you must consider me; but your husband——.
Mrs. Tid. Pray say no more. Mr. Tidmarsh chose to act on his own responsibility, and of course I must put up with the consequences.
Lord Strath. (to himself). It's hard lines to have to leave Marjory like this; but this is more than I can——(Aloud.) After that, of course I can only offer to relieve you of my presence as soon as——
Mrs. Tid. (horrified). Not for worlds! I can't have my party broken up now. I insist on your staying. I—I have no complaint to make of your conduct—so far!
Lord Strath. Very kind of you to say so. (To himself.) Pleasant woman this! But I don't care—I will stay and see this out; it's too late to go in to the Cartouches now, and I won't leave Marjory till——(Aloud.) Miss Seaton—Marjory—I'm in a most awfully difficult position—do let me tell you about it!
Miss Seaton (penitently). Oh, Douglas, I—I know—I heard.... I'm so sorry—I mean, I'm so glad! Please forgive me for treating you as I did!
Lord Strath. You did let me have it pretty straight, didn't you, Marjory? But, of course, you thought me am impudent cad for calmly coming in to dinner uninvited like this—and no wonder!
Miss Seaton (to herself). He doesn't know the worst—and he shan't, if I can help it! (Aloud.) It doesn't matter what I thought—I—I don't think it now. And—and—do tell me all you can about yourself!
[They converse with recovered confidence.
Uncle Gab. (to himself). For all the notice that stuck-up young swell takes of me, I might be a block of wood! I'll make him listen to me. (Aloud.) Ahem! My Lord, I've just been telling my niece here the latest scandal in high-life. I daresay your Lordship has heard of that titled but brainless young profligate, the Marquis of Manx?
Lord Strath. Manx? Oh, yes—know him well—sort of relation of mine. Never heard a word against him, though!
Uncle Gab. (in confusion). Oh, I—I beg your Lordship's pardon—I wasn't aware. No doubt I got the name wrong.
"Let me advise you to be very careful."
Lord Strath. Ah—or the facts. Great mistake to repeat these things—don't you think? Generally lies.
[He resumes his conversation with Miss S.
Uncle Gab. (nettled). It's all very well for you to stand up for your order, my Lord; but it's right I should tell you that the Country doesn't mean to tolerate that den of thieves and land-grabbers—I need hardly say I refer to the House of Lords—much longer! We're determined to sweep them from the face of the earth. I say so, as the—ah—mouthpiece of a large and influential majority of earnest and enlightened Englishmen!
Lord Strath. (to himself). Fancy the mouthpiece has had quite enough champagne! (Aloud.) My dear Sir, you can begin sweeping to-morrow, so far as I am concerned. I'm no politician.
Uncle Gab. (warming). No politician! And yet you sit in the Upper House as one of our hereditary legislators, obstructing the will of the People! Do you mean to tell me there's no incongruity in that!
[Consternation among the company.
Lord Strath. A good deal, I daresay, if I sat there—only I don't—haven't had the honour of being elected at present.
Mrs. Tid. (hastily). He means he—he has other things to do, Uncle—don't excite yourself so! (To Lord S. in a whisper.) You're only exposing yourself by talking of what you know nothing about. Surely you know that Peers aren't elected!
Lord Strath. I was under the impression they were—in Scotland; but it's not worth arguing about.
Uncle Gab. You're evading the point, my Lord. I'm trying to put plain sense——
Lord Strath. (wearily). I know—but—er—why try? Wouldn't plain nonsense be rather more amusing—at dinner, don't you know?
Uncle Gab. (stormily). Don't think you're going to ride roughshod over me, my Lord! If you think yourself above your company——
Lord Strath. I assure you I've no idea what I've said or done to offend you, Sir. It was perfectly unintentional on my part.
Uncle Gab. (relaxing). In that case, my Lord, no further apology is needed. I—ah—accept the olive-branch!
Lord Strath. By all means—if I may trouble you for the olives.
Uncle Gab. (effusively). With all the pleasure in life, my Lord. And, without withdrawing in any sort or kind from any of my general opinions, I think I express the sentiment of all present when I say how deeply we feel the honour——
Lord Strath. (to himself). Good Lord—he's going to make a speech now! (Little Gwendolen enters demurely and draws up a chair between his and her mother's.) Saved, by Jove! Child to the rescue? (To her.) So you're going to sit next to me, eh? That's right! Now what shall I get you—some of those grapes?
Gwen. No, a baby orange with silver paper round it, please. What is it, Miss Seaton? [She rises and goes to Miss S.
Miss Seaton (whispering). Now, darling, be careful—you know what I told you—you mustn't tell tales or repeat things!
Gwen. Not even if I'm asked, Miss Seaton?... No?... Would you be displeased? Then I won't. (Returning to her seat and addressing Lord S. confidentially.) Do you know why I've come to sit next to you? Because I want to see how you behave. You aren't just like one of our regular dinner-party guests, are you, you know?
Lord Strath. (humbly). I'm afraid not, my dear; but you'll be kind to me for all that, won't you?
Gwen. (primly). Miss Seaton says we should never be unkind to anybody, whatever their position is. And I think you're rather nice. I wish Papa would have you to dine with us often, but perhaps you're expensive?
Lord Strath. (laughing). I don't know, Miss Gwennie, I've been feeling uncommonly cheap all the evening!
Gwen. (reflectively). Mamma always says everything's much cheaper at Blankley's.
Mrs. Tid. (to Uncle Gab.). Growing such a big girl, isn't she? and getting on wonderfully with her lessons. I must get her to recite one of her little pieces for you, Uncle, dear—she does it so prettily!
Uncle Gab. Hey, Gwen—I'll bet you one of these sugar-biscuits you don't know who it is you're chatting away so freely to!
Gwen. Oh yes, I do, Uncle; but I'm being very kind to him, so that he mayn't feel any different, you know!
Uncle Gab. Upon my word—what will you get into that little noddle of yours next, I wonder!
Gwen. (after deliberation). Preserved ginger, I think—I like ginger better than biscuits. (To Lord S.) You can reach it for me.
Uncle Gab. Come, come, young lady, where are your manners? That's not the way to speak to that Gentleman. You should say—"Will your Lordship be so very kind as to pass the preserved ginger?"
Lord Strath. (impatiently). Please don't, Gwennie! I like your own style much the best! [He helps her to the preserve.
Uncle Gab. You mustn't allow the child to take liberties, my Lord. Now, Gwen, suppose you tell me and his Lordship here something you've been learning lately—don't be shy, now!
Mrs. Tid. Yes, Gwennie—tell Uncle a little tale—repeat something to him, come, darling!
Gwen. No, I shan't, Mamma!
[She pegs away stolidly at the preserved ginger.
Uncle Gab. Hullo? 'Shan't' to your Mother? This how you bring the child up, Maria?
Mrs. Tid. Not when Mother asks you to, Gwen? And Uncle wanting to hear it so! No? Why won't you?
Gwen. Because Miss Seaton told me not to—and I won't, either.
Uncle Gab. Hah—Miss Seaton seems the supreme authority here, evidently—better get her permission, Maria!
Miss Seaton (distressed). Indeed. I—I never meant—Gwennie didn't understand me quite—that is all!
Gwen. Oh, Miss Seaton! when you said I wasn't to tell tales or repeat things—you did say so!
Miss Seaton. Yes, yes, but that was a different kind of tale altogether, Gwennie,—you may tell a fairy tale!
Gwen. (obstinately). If I mayn't tell any kind of story I like, I shan't tell any at all—so there!
Uncle Gab. Pretty behaviour, upon my word! Children didn't behave like that in my young days, Maria! I should no more have dared to refuse to tell my elders anything they—but it strikes me you leave her too much with her governess—who, by the bye, has been going on with his Lordship in a manner that well, really I shouldn't have thought——!
Mrs. Tid. (mortified and angry). I am not at all satisfied with Miss Seaton in many ways, Uncle—you can safely leave her to me!
[She gives the signal; Lord Strath. opens the door.
Lord Strath. (to Miss Seaton, as she passes, last but one). I—I suppose I shall get a word with you upstairs?
Mrs. Tid. (overhearing—to herself). I'll take good care he doesn't! (To Lord S., waspishly.) Let me advise you to be very careful!
[Lord Strath. closes the door after her, with relief and amazement.
Scene VII.—On the Stairs.
Mrs. Tid. (detaining Miss Seaton). I hope you are satisfied with yourself, Miss Seaton? You ought to be, I'm sure—after encouraging my own child to disobey me, and behaving as you did with that most ill-bred and impertinent impostor!
Miss S. (indignantly). He is nothing of the sort! Mrs. Tidmarsh, you—you don't understand! Please let me tell you about him!
Mrs. Tid. I have no desire whatever to hear. I am only sorry I ever permitted you to dine at all. It will be a lesson to me another time. And you will be good enough to retire to your own room at once, and remain there till I send for you! [She passes on.
Miss Seaton (following). But I must tell you first what a mistake you are making. Indeed he is not——!
Mrs. Tid. I don't care what he is. Another word, Miss Seaton,—and we part! [She sweeps into the Drawing-room.
Miss Seaton (outside). I have done all I can! If I could only hope the worst was over! But it doesn't matter much now. I know I shall never see Douglas again!
[She goes sorrowfully up to her room.
(End of Scene VII.)