Lady Frederick.
Why you wrote me a letter only the other day.
Madame Claude.
Did I?
Lady Frederick.
And such a cross letter too.
Madame Claude.
[Apologetically.] Oh, but Lady Frederick, that was only in the way of business. I don’t exactly remember what expressions I may have made use of ——
Lady Frederick.
[Interrupting, as if the truth had suddenly flashed across her.] Ada! I do believe you came here to-day about my account.
Madame Claude.
Oh, no, my lady, I promise you.
Lady Frederick.
You did; I know you did. I see it in your face. Now that really wasn’t nice of you. I thought you came as a friend.
Madame Claude.
I did, Lady Frederick.
Lady Frederick.
No, you wanted to dun me. I’m disappointed in you. I did think, after all the things I’ve had from you, you wouldn’t treat me like that.
Madame Claude.
But I assure your ladyship....
Lady Frederick.
Not another word. You came to ask for a cheque. You shall have it.
Madame Claude.
No, Lady Frederick, I wouldn’t take it.
Lady Frederick.
What is the exact figure, Madame Claude?
Madame Claude.
I — I don’t remember.
Lady Frederick.
Seven hundred and fifty pounds, seventeen and ninepence. You see, I remember. You came for your cheque and you shall have it.
[She sits down and takes a pen.
Madame Claude.
Now, Lady Frederick, I should look upon that as most unkind. It’s treating me like a very second-rate establishment.
Lady Frederick.
I’m sorry, but you should have thought of that before. Now I haven’t got a cheque; how tiresome.
Madame Claude.
Oh, it doesn’t matter, Lady Frederick. I promise you it never entered my ‘ead.
Lady Frederick.
What shall I do?
Fouldes.
You can write it on a sheet of paper, you know.
Lady Frederick.
[With a look, aside to him.] Monster! [Aloud.] Of course I can. I hadn’t thought of that. [She takes a sheet of paper.] But how on earth am I to get a stamp?
Fouldes.
[Much amused.] I happen to have one on me.
Lady Frederick.
I wonder why on earth you should have English stamps in Monte Carlo?
Fouldes.
[Handing her one.] A penny stamp may sometimes save one a hundred louis.
Lady Frederick.
[Ironically.] Thanks so much. I write the name of my bank on the top, don’t I? Pay Madame Claude....
Madame Claude.
Now, it’s no good, Lady Frederick, I won’t take it. After all I ‘ave my self-respect to think of.
Lady Frederick.
It’s too late now.
Madame Claude.
[Sniffing a little.] No, no, Lady Frederick. Don’t be too ‘ard on me. As one lady to another I ask you to forgive me. I did come about my account, but — well, I don’t want the money.
Lady Frederick.
[Looking up good-humouredly.] Well, well. [She looks at the cheque.] It shall be as you wish. There. [She tears it up.]
Madame Claude.
Oh, thank you, Lady Frederick. I look upon that as a real favour. And now I really must be getting off.
Lady Frederick.
Must you go? Well, good-bye. Paradine, take Madame Claude to her motor. Ada!
[She kisses her on the cheek.
Madame Claude.
[Going.] I am pleased to have seen you.
[Paradine offers his arm and goes out with
Madame Claude. Lady Frederick goes
to the window, stands on a chair and waves
her handkerchief. While she is doing this
Captain Montgomerie enters.
Captain Montgomerie.
How d’you do?
Lady Frederick.
[Getting down.] How nice of you to come. I wanted to see you.
Captain Montgomerie.
May I sit down?
Lady Frederick.
Of course. There are one or two things I’d like to talk to you about.
Captain Montgomerie.
Yes?
Lady Frederick.
First I must thank you for your great kindness to Gerald. I didn’t know last night that he owed you a good deal of money.
Captain Montgomerie.
It’s a mere trifle.
Lady Frederick.
You must be very rich to call nine hundred pounds that?
Captain Montgomerie.
I am.
Lady Frederick.
[With a laugh.] All the same it’s extremely good of you to give him plenty of time.
Captain Montgomerie.
I told Gerald he could have till to-morrow.
Lady Frederick.
Obviously he wants to settle with you as soon as ever he can.
Captain Montgomerie.
[Quietly.] I often wonder why gambling debts are known as debts of honour.
Lady Frederick.
[Looking at him steadily.] Of course I realise that if you choose to press for the money and Gerald can’t pay — he’ll have to send in his papers.
Captain Montgomerie.
[Lightly.] You may be quite sure I have no wish to bring about such a calamity. By the way, have you thought over our little talk of last night?
Lady Frederick.
No.
Captain Montgomerie.
You would have been wise to do so.
Lady Frederick.
My dear Captain Montgomerie, you really can’t expect me to marry you because my brother has been so foolish as to lose more money at poker than he can afford.
Captain Montgomerie.
Did you ever hear that my father was a money-lender?
Lady Frederick.
A lucrative profession, I believe.
Captain Montgomerie.
He found it so. He was a Polish Jew called Aaron Levitzki. He came to this country with three shillings in his pocket. He lent half-a-crown of it to a friend on the condition that he should be paid back seven and six in three days.
Lady Frederick.
I’m not good at figures, but the interest sounds rather high.
Captain Montgomerie.
It is. That was one of my father’s specialities. From these humble beginnings his business grew to such proportions that at his death he was able to leave me the name and arms of the great family of Montgomerie and something over a million of money.
Lady Frederick.
The result of thrift, industry, and good fortune.
Captain Montgomerie.
My father was able to gratify all his ambitions but one. He was eaten up with the desire to move in good society, and this he was never able to achieve. His dying wish was that I should live in those circles which he knew only....
Lady Frederick.
Across the counter?
Captain Montgomerie.
Precisely. But my poor father was a little ignorant in these matters. To him one lord was as good as another. He thought a Marquess a finer man than an Earl, and a Viscount than a Baron. He would never have understood that a penniless Irish baronet might go into better society than many a belted earl.
Lady Frederick.
And what is the application of this?
Captain Montgomerie.
I wanted to explain to you one of the reasons which emboldened me last night to make you a proposal of marriage.
Lady Frederick.
But surely you know some very nice people. I saw you lunching the other day with the widow of a city knight.
Captain Montgomerie.
Many very excellent persons are glad to hav
e me to dine with them. But I know quite well that they’re not the real article. I’m as far off as ever from getting into those houses which you have been used to all your life. I’m not content with third-rate earls and rather seedy dowagers.
Lady Frederick.
Forgive my frankness, but — aren’t you rather a snob?
Captain Montgomerie.
My father, Aaron Levitzki, married an English woman, and I have all the English virtues.
Lady Frederick.
But I’m not quite sure that people would swallow you even as my husband.
Captain Montgomerie.
They’d make a face, but they’d swallow me right enough. And when I asked them down to the best shoot in England they’d come to the conclusion that I agreed with them very well.
Lady Frederick.
[Still rather amused.] Your offer is eminently businesslike, but you see I’m not a business woman. It doesn’t appeal to me.
Captain Montgomerie.
I only ask you to perform such of the duties of a wife as are required by Society. They are few enough in all conscience. I should wish you to entertain largely and receive my guests, be polite to me, at least in public, and go with me to the various places people go to. Otherwise I leave you entire freedom. You will find me generous and heedful to all your wishes.
Lady Frederick.
Captain Montgomerie, I don’t know how much of all that you have said is meant seriously. But, surely you’re not choosing the right time to make such a proposal when my brother owes you so much money that if you care to be hard you can ruin him.
Captain Montgomerie.
Why not?
Lady Frederick.
D’you mean to say...?
Captain Montgomerie.
I will be quite frank with you. I should never have allowed Gerald to lose so much money which there was no likelihood of his being able to pay, if I had not thought it earned me some claim upon your gratitude.
Lady Frederick.
[Shortly.] Gerald will pay every penny he owes you to-morrow.
Captain Montgomerie.
[Blandly.] Where d’you suppose he’ll get it?
Lady Frederick.
I have no doubt I shall be able to manage something.
Captain Montgomerie.
Have you not tried this morning, entirely without success?
Lady Frederick.
[Startled.] What?
Captain Montgomerie.
You do not forget that you have sundry moneys of your own which are payable to-morrow?
Lady Frederick.
How d’you know that?
Captain Montgomerie.
I told you that when I took a thing in hand I carried it through. You went to Dick Cohen, and he told you he’d parted with the bills. Didn’t you guess that only one man could have the least interest in taking them over?
Lady Frederick.
You?
Captain Montgomerie.
Yes.
Lady Frederick.
Oh, God.
Captain Montgomerie.
Come, come, don’t be worried over it. There’s nothing to be alarmed about. I’m a very decent chap — if you’d accepted me right away you would never have known that those bills were in my possession. Think it over once more. I’m sure we should get on well together. I can give you what you most need, money and the liberty to fling it away as recklessly as you choose; you can give me the assured and fixed position on which — my father’s heart was set.
Lady Frederick.
And if I don’t accept, you’ll make me a bankrupt and you’ll ruin Gerald?
Captain Montgomerie.
I refuse to consider that very unpleasant alternative.
Lady Frederick.
Oh! I can’t, I can’t.
Captain Montgomerie.
[Laughing.] But you must, you must. When shall I come for your answer? To-morrow? I’ll come with the bills and Gerald’s I.O.U. in my pocket, and you shall burn them yourself. Good-bye.
[He kisses her hand and goes out. Lady
Frederick remains staring in front of
her. Mereston enters, followed by Lady
Mereston and Paradine.
Mereston.
[Going to her eagerly.] Hulloa! I wondered what on earth had become of you.
Lady Frederick.
[With a laugh.] It’s only two hours since I chased you away from me.
Mereston.
I’m afraid I bore you to death.
Lady Frederick.
Don’t be so silly. You know you don’t.
Mereston.
Where are you going now?
Lady Frederick.
I have rather a headache. I’m going to lie down.
Mereston.
I’m so sorry.
[Lady Frederick goes out. Mereston stares
after her anxiously, and makes a step
towards the door.
Lady Mereston.
[Sharply.] Where are you going, Charlie?
Mereston.
I never asked Lady Frederick if I could do anything.
Lady Mereston.
Good heavens, there are surely plenty of servants in the hotel to get her anything she wants.
Mereston.
Don’t you think a drive in the motor would do her good?
Lady Mereston.
[Unable to control herself.] Oh, I have no patience with you. I never saw such a ridiculous infatuation in my life.
Paradine.
Steady, old girl, steady.
Mereston.
What on earth d’you mean, mother?
Lady Mereston.
Presumably you’re not going to deny that you’re in love with that woman.
Mereston.
[Growing pale.] Would you mind speaking of her as Lady Frederick?
Lady Mereston.
You try me very much, Charlie. Please answer my question.
Mereston.
I don’t want to seem unkind to you, mother, but I think you have no right to ask about my private affairs.
Fouldes.
If you’re going to talk this matter over you’re more likely to come to an understanding if you both keep your tempers.
Mereston.
There’s nothing I wish to discuss.
Lady Mereston.
Don’t be absurd, Charlie. You’re with Lady Frederick morning, noon and night. She can never stir a yard from the hotel but you go flying after. You pester her with your ridiculous attentions.
Fouldes.
[Blandly.] One’s relations have always such an engaging frankness. Like a bad looking-glass, they always represent you with a crooked nose and a cast in your eye.
Lady Mereston.
[To Mereston.] I have certainly a right to know what you mean by all this and what is going to come of it.
Mereston.
I don’t know what will come of it.
Fouldes.
The question that excites our curiosity is this: are you going to ask Lady Frederick to marry you?
Mereston.
I refuse to answer that. It seems to me excessively impertinent.
Fouldes.
Come, come, my boy, you’re too young to play the heavy father. We’re both your friends. Hadn’t you better make a clean breast of it? After all, your mother and I are interested in nothing so much as your welfare.
Lady Mereston.
[Imploring.] Charlie!
Mereston.
Of course I’d ask her to marry me if I thought for a moment that she’d accept. But I’m so terrified that she’ll refuse, and then perhaps I shall never see her again.
Lady Mereston.
The boy’s stark, staring mad.
Mereston.
I don’t know what I should do if she sent me about my business. I’d rather continue in this awful uncertainty than lose all hope for ever.
Fouldes.
By George. You’re pretty far gone, my son
. The lover who’s diffident is in a much worse way than the lover who protests.
Lady Mereston.
[With a little laugh.] I must say it amuses me that Lady Frederick should have had both my brother and my son dangling at her skirts. Your respective passions are separated by quite a number of years.
Mereston.
Lady Frederick has already told me of that incident.
Fouldes.
With the usual indiscretion of her sex.
Mereston.
It appears that she was very unhappy and you, with questionable taste, made love to her.
Fouldes.
Do your best not to preach at me, dear boy. It reminds me of your lamented father.
Mereston.
And at last she promised to go away with you. You were to meet at Waterloo Station.
Fouldes.
Such a draughty place for an assignation.
Mereston.
Your train was to start at nine, and you were going to take the boat over to the Channel Isles.
Fouldes.
Lady Frederick has a very remarkable memory. I remember hoping the sea wouldn’t be rough.
Mereston.
And just as the train was starting her eye fell on the clock. At that moment her child was coming down to breakfast and would ask for her. Before you could stop her she’d jumped out of the carriage. The train was moving, and you couldn’t get out, so you were taken on to Weymouth — alone.
Lady Mereston.
You must have felt a quite egregious ass, Paradine.
Fouldes.
I did, but you need not rub it in.
Lady Mereston.
Doesn’t it occur to you, Charlie, that a woman who loves so easily can’t be very worthy of your affection?
Mereston.
But, my dear mother, d’you think she cared for my uncle?
Fouldes.
What the dickens d’you mean?
Mereston.
D’you suppose if she loved you she would have hesitated to come? D’you know her so little as that? She thought of her child only because she was quite indifferent to you.
Fouldes.
[Crossly.] You know nothing about it, and you’re an impertinent young jackanapes.
Lady Mereston.
My dear Paradine, what can it matter if Lady Frederick was in love with you or not?
Fouldes.
[Calming down.] Of course it doesn’t matter a bit.
Lady Mereston.
I have no doubt you mistook wounded vanity for a broken heart.
Fouldes.
[Acidly.] My dear, you sometimes say things which explain to me why my brother-in-law so frequently abandoned his own fireside for the platform of Exeter Hall.
Mereston.
It may also interest you to learn that I am perfectly aware of Lady Frederick’s financial difficulties. I know she has two bills falling due to-morrow.
Delphi Collected Works of W. Somerset Maugham (Illustrated) Page 324