Delphi Collected Works of W. Somerset Maugham (Illustrated)
Page 338
Mrs. Dot.
Monstrous! And so bad for the digestion.
Gerald.
Some time ago Lady Sellenger found out that we were writing to one another and so on, so she came to see me and said she’d made up her mind to take Nellie abroad for a year. She made me promise to hold no communication with her during that time, and agreed that if we were still of the same mind when they came back, she would withdraw the opposition and let us be properly engaged.
Mrs. Dot.
An announcement in the Morning Post and all that sort of thing?
Gerald.
I suppose so.
Mrs. Dot.
And when are they coming back?
Gerald.
They came back last week. But I haven’t had a chance of speaking to Nellie yet. The year is up to-day, and this morning I had a note from Lady Sellenger asking if they might come to tea.
Mrs. Dot.
And what are you going to say to her?
Gerald.
Good heavens! What can I say? I was poor enough a year ago, but now I’m penniless. I’m bound to ask for my release.
Mrs. Dot.
Then why on earth have you been trying to make me utterly miserable?
Gerald.
You know, I don’t want to seem an awful prig, but I don’t think I should much like doing anything shabby. If Nellie wants me to keep my promise I shan’t draw back.
Mrs. Dot.
Oh, but she won’t. She’ll be only too glad to get rid of you.
Gerald.
I’m afraid there’s something else I must tell you.
Mrs. Dot.
More? Don’t say you’ve got a horrible past, because I shan’t turn a hair.
Gerald.
No, it’s not that. You know that Lord Hollington is a relation of mine.
Mrs. Dot.
Only a fifteenth cousin, isn’t he? Far too distant to brag about.
Gerald.
A year ago three lives stood between me and the peerage. It seemed impossible that I could ever come into anything.
Mrs. Dot.
Well?
Gerald.
But last winter my cousin George unfortunately broke his neck in the hunting-field, and his poor old father died of the shock. If anything happened to my cousin Charles everything would come to me.
Mrs. Dot.
And Lady Sellenger would doubtless withdraw her opposition to your marriage.
Gerald.
She’s a very nice woman, but she has rather a keen eye for the main chance.
Mrs. Dot.
Even her best friend would hesitate to call her disinterested. But why should anything happen to Lord Hollington? He’s quite young, isn’t he? I saw his engagement announced in the Morning Post a little while ago.
Gerald.
He’s out in India at this moment. He’s a soldier, you know. It appears there’s some trouble on the North-West Frontier, and he’s in command of the expedition.
Mrs. Dot.
Oh, but nothing is going to happen to him. He’ll live till he’s eighty.
Gerald.
I’m sure I hope he will.
Mrs. Dot.
Say again that you love me, Gerald.
Gerald.
[Smiling.] I oughtn’t to yet.
Mrs. Dot.
You know, you’ve got to marry me. I insist upon it. After all, you’ve been trifling with my affections shamefully. Oh, we shall be so happy, Gerald. And we’ll never grow any older than we are now. You know, I’m an awfully good sort, really. I talk a lot of nonsense, but I don’t mean it. I very seldom listen to it myself. I’m sick of society. I want to settle down and be domesticated. I’ll sit at home and darn your socks. And I shall hate it, and I shall be so happy. And if you want to be independent you can have a job at the brewery. We want a smart energetic man to keep us up to the times. And we’ll have a lovely box at the opera, and you can always get away for the shooting.
[A ring is heard.
Gerald.
There they are.
Mrs. Dot.
Good heavens! I quite forgot about those wretched people in there.
[She opens the door of the dining-room.
Mrs. Dot.
I don’t want to disturb you, but if you’ve quite finished your conversation perhaps you’d like to come and have tea.
[Blenkinsop and Freddie come in and go to the fire.
Blenkinsop.
I observe with interest that your remark is facetious.
Freddie.
I’m simply freezing.
Mrs. Dot.
You didn’t mind being shut up in there, did you?
Blenkinsop.
Not at all. I rather like sitting in an arctic room without a fire, with a window looking on a blank wall, and the society of your nephew and the Sporting Times of the week before last as my only means of entertainment.
[Charles enters to announce the Sellengers. He goes out and brings in the tea.
Charles.
Lady and Miss Sellenger.
[Enter Lady Sellenger and Nellie. Lady Sellenger is a pompous woman of fifty, stout, alert and clever. Nellie is very pretty and graceful, and fashionably gowned. She appears to be much under her mother’s influence.
Lady Sellenger.
How d’you do? Ah, Mrs. Worthley! Delightful!
Gerald.
[Shaking hands.] How d’you do? I think you know Mr. Blenkinsop?
Lady Sellenger.
Of course. But I don’t approve of him.
Blenkinsop.
Why not?
Lady Sellenger.
Because you’re a cynic, a millionaire, and a bachelor. And no man has the right to be all three.
Mrs. Dot.
And how did you like Italy?
Lady Sellenger.
A grossly over-rated place. So many marriageable daughters and so few eligible men.
Gerald.
[Introducing.] Mr. Perkins, Lady Sellenger — Miss Sellenger.
Mrs. Dot.
My nephew and my secretary.
Lady Sellenger.
Really. How very interesting! Almost romantic.
Freddie.
How d’you do?
Lady Sellenger.
Dear Mrs. Worthley, what a charming gown! You always wear such — striking things.
Mrs. Dot.
It advertises the beer, don’t you know.
Lady Sellenger.
I wish I could drink it, Mrs. Worthley, but it’s so fattening. I understand you always have it on your table.
Mrs. Dot.
I think that’s the least I can do, as it’s only on account of the beer that I can have a table at all.
Nellie.
[To Mrs. Dot.] May I give you some tea?
Mrs. Dot.
[Going to the tea-table.] Thanks so much.
[Gerald comes over to Lady Sellenger with a cup. She takes it. The others are gathered round the tea-table, which is right at the back, and talk among themselves.
Lady Sellenger.
Come and sit by me, Gerald. I’ve not had a word with you since we came back from Italy.
Gerald.
[Lightly.] What are you going to say to me?
Lady Sellenger.
You can guess why I wrote to ask if we might come and see you to-day?
Gerald.
[Rising.] Yes.
Lady Sellenger.
Now do sit down. And look as if you were talking of the weather.
Gerald.
It’s a little difficult to discuss the matter quite indifferently.
Lady Sellenger.
My dear boy, it’s the little difficulties of life which prevent it from being dull. We should be no better than the beasts of the field if we had no anxieties about our soul and our position in society.
Gerald.
I see.
Lady Sellenger.
[Rather impatiently.] My dear Gerald, why don’t you help
me? What I have to say is so very unpleasant. You know I have always had a most sincere affection for you. Under other circumstances I would have wanted no better son-in-law.
Gerald.
It’s very kind of you to say so.
Lady Sellenger.
I’ve assured you for the last three years that a marriage was absurd, and now I want to tell you that it’s impossible. Love is all very well in its way, but it doesn’t make up for a shabby house in the suburbs.
Gerald.
You’re not romantic, Lady Sellenger.
Lady Sellenger.
My dear, when you reach my age you’ll agree with me that it’s only the matter of fact which really signifies. Love in a cottage is a delusion of youth. It’s difficult enough after ten years of solid matrimony in Grosvenor Square.
Gerald.
You married for love, Lady Sellenger.
Lady Sellenger.
I’m anxious that my daughter shouldn’t make the same mistake. Now let us be quite frank with one another.... Are you sure they’re not listening?
Gerald.
[Glancing at the others.] They seem very much occupied with their own affairs. What is your ultimatum?
Lady Sellenger.
Well, Gerald, I’m not in the least mercenary. I know that money can’t give happiness. But I do feel that unless you have at least two thousand a year you can’t make my daughter even comfortable.
Gerald.
I’m sure that’s very modest.
Lady Sellenger.
It’s not love in a cottage. It’s not love in a palace. It’s just — matrimony in Onslow Gardens.
Gerald.
I may as well tell you at once that I’ve had very bad luck. I wanted to make money, and I’ve come an absolute cropper.
Lady Sellenger.
My dear Gerald, I’m very sorry. Is it as bad as all that?
Gerald.
It couldn’t be much worse.
Lady Sellenger.
Dear me, that’s very sad. But, of course, it simplifies matters, doesn’t it?
Gerald.
Enormously. It puts marriage entirely out of the question and leaves only one course open to me. I’ll take the earliest opportunity to ask Nellie for my release.
Lady Sellenger.
What a pity it is you’re so poor! Your principles are really excellent.
Gerald.
But what about Nellie? How will she take it?
Lady Sellenger.
She’s so reserved, poor dear! She never speaks of her feelings. But after three London seasons most girls have learnt to bow to the inevitable. And how is Lord Hollington?
Gerald.
He’s to be married as soon as he comes back from India.
Lady Sellenger.
It was dreadfully sad that his uncle and his cousin should die within a year. If anything happened to him you’d be in very different circumstances. But, of course, it would be wicked to wish it. I hope you never do.
Gerald.
Never. I trust he’ll live to a hundred.
Lady Sellenger.
And I daresay he’ll have fifteen children. Those delicate men often do.... Why don’t you speak to Nellie now and get it over?
Gerald.
This very minute? With others in the room?
Lady Sellenger.
That’s just it, I want to give neither of you any opportunity for sentiment.
Gerald.
You’re certainly very practical.
Lady Sellenger.
No woman can afford to be sentimental when she has a marriageable daughter.... For heaven’s sake don’t make Nellie cry, we’re dining out to-night.
Gerald.
I’ll do my best to be very matter of fact.
Lady Sellenger.
[Raising her voice.] Mr. Blenkinsop, I want to quarrel with you!
Blenkinsop.
[Coming forward.] You fill me with consternation.
Lady Sellenger.
You passed us in Pall Mall this afternoon and you cut us dead.
Blenkinsop.
I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you. I’d just been to the War Office to inquire if there was any news of those fellows out in India. By the way, Halstane, isn’t Hollington a relation of yours?
Gerald.
Yes, why?
Blenkinsop.
Haven’t you seen anything in the paper?
Gerald.
No.
Blenkinsop.
Oh, but surely. There’s sure to be something about it in the Westminster.
[He takes up the paper.
Gerald.
That’s an early one.
[Faintly are heard the cries of “Special.”
Freddie.
Listen, there’s the last edition coming along.
Lady Sellenger.
But what is it, Mr. Blenkinsop?
Blenkinsop.
A small force was sent out to punish some local people up in the hills, who’d been making themselves troublesome, and it hasn’t been heard of since. The idea is that there may have been some trouble and they’ve all got cut up.
Mrs. Dot.
But how does it concern Lord Hollington?
Blenkinsop.
He was in command of it.
Gerald.
Good God!
Blenkinsop.
When I was there a couple of hours ago the War Office had no news at all.
Gerald.
But why didn’t you tell me about it?
Blenkinsop.
I thought you knew. I’d forgotten for the moment that Hollington had anything to do with you. He’s a very distant relation, isn’t he?
Gerald.
Yes, I hardly know him.
Lady Sellenger.
But if anything has happened to him....
[Cries outside of “Special, Special.”
Mrs. Dot.
Why don’t you get a paper? Freddie, run and get one, will you?
Gerald.
No, Charles can go.
[He rings, and Charles immediately comes in.
Gerald.
Oh, Charles, get a paper at once. Hurry up!
Charles.
Very good, sir.
[He goes out. Outside, cries of “Terrible catastrophe in India.”
Gerald.
By Jove, did you hear that?
[Cries of “Special, Special.”
Lady Sellenger.
Why doesn’t he make haste?
Gerald.
Nonsense. It can’t have anything to do with Hollington.
Mrs. Dot.
[With her hand on his arm, anxiously.] Gerald.
[Freddie Perkins is looking out of the window.
Freddie.
Here’s Charles. By Jove, he isn’t hurrying himself much.
Gerald.
Has he got a newsboy?
Freddie.
Yes. What the deuce is he doing?
Gerald.
[At the window.] Good lord, he’s reading the paper.
Lady Sellenger.
The suspense is too awful.
Freddie.
There’s another newsboy running down the street.
[Cries of “Special, Special.”
Gerald.
Thank God, he’s coming upstairs at last. I should like to kick him.
[Cries of “Terrible catastrophe in India. ‘Eroic death of Lord ‘Ollington.”
Good God!
[They all remain in silence, full of consternation. Charles enters with the paper.
Hurry up, man! What the deuce have you been doing?
[He snatches the paper from him.
Charles.
[With dignity.] I made all the ‘aste I could, my lord.
[Gerald stops for a moment from looking up and down the paper, and stares at him.
Gerald.
What the dickens d’you mean?
[He looks at the paper, reads, and drops it.
> Mrs. Dot.
Is it true, Gerald?
[He looks at her and nods.
Gerald.
Poor chap. And just as he was going to be married.
Charles.
Shall I bring your hat and coat, my lord?
Gerald.
What on earth are you talking about?
Charles.
I thought your lordship would like to go round to the War Office.
Gerald.
Shut up!
[Exit Charles.
Lady Sellenger.
My dear boy, I congratulate you with all my heart.
Gerald.
Oh, don’t remind me of that already.
Lady Sellenger.
I can quite understand you’re a little upset, but after all he was only a very distant relation of yours.
Blenkinsop.
I don’t understand what all this means.
Gerald.
Didn’t you hear that fool of a servant? It was the first thing he thought of.
Mrs. Dot.
Gerald succeeds to the peerage!
Gerald.
Yes.
Mrs. Dot.
Wouldn’t you like us to leave you alone? I’m sure you want to think things out a bit?
Lady Sellenger.
Come, Nellie!
Gerald.
I’m sorry to turn you out. Good-bye. I had something to say to you, Nellie.
Nellie.
We’ve not had a chance of speaking to one another.
Lady Sellenger.
[Unctuously.] It’s very fortunate. Now you’ll have much pleasanter things to talk about.
[He stares at her without understanding.
Lady Sellenger.
Things are very different now, Gerald. It just came in time, didn’t it?
Nellie.
Good-bye.
[Lady Sellenger and Nellie go out.
Blenkinsop.
Good-bye, old man, I’m sorry your cousin has had such an awful death. But after all, we none of us knew him and we do know you. I can’t tell you how glad I am that all your difficulties are at an end.
Gerald.
I would give my right hand to bring Hollington back to life again.
Blenkinsop.
Good-bye.
[He goes out.
Mrs. Dot.
Go away, Freddie. I want to talk to Gerald.
Freddie.
Good-bye, old man. I say, what a nice girl Miss Sellenger is!
Gerald.
Good-bye.
[Freddie goes out.
Mrs. Dot.
Well?
Gerald.
The news has come just an hour too soon. It’s bound me hand and foot.