Complete Works of J. M. Barrie

by Unknown

  (She crosses to DOWAGER, who enters, COSENS joins SIR GEORGE and the PROFESSOR.)

  Wherever have you been?

  DOWAGER. Seeing the horrid smelly laboratory with the Professor’s secretary.

  LADY GILDING. A red-haired man. I remember him.

  DOWAGER. No, a new secretary — a woman.

  LADY GILDING. What?

  DOWAGER. Yes, I thought so too at first, but it is all right; she’s the simplest little thing.

  SIR GEORGE. I assure you, it isn’t merely frocks. Take a lady’s hat, for instance — say, Mildred’s hat — excuse me, Mildred. (Takes off her hat.) Now, this is a large hat — how, I ask you, should that affect the cost?

  PROFESSOR. That should make it more expensive.

  SIR GEORGE. It should, but it does not. This is a comparatively cheap hat, because it is large. But — (Takes scissors from table and cuts at hat, puts scissors back on the table) — let us take away this ribbon and these feathers.

  LADY GILDING (horrified). George!

  SIR GEORGE. Excuse me, Mildred. The price of the hart; is now doubled.

  PROFESSOR. Bless my soul!

  SIR GEORGE. There is nothing left now but the straw and this bow. (Takes up scissors and cuts at hat.) I take away the straw.

  LADY GILDING. George!

  SIR GEORGE. Excuse me, Mildred. And there being nothing left now except the ribbon, the price of the hat — (Holding up bow of velvet) — becomes something appalling. And now, Mildred, we must go.

  (LADY GILDING ruefully arranges hat.)

  DOWAGER. I hope you will excuse us calling at this early hour, Professor, we were so anxious when we heard of your illness. You must dine with us tonight.

  LADY GILDING. Yes, indeed!

  PROFESSOR. It is — ah — very good of you, but —

  DOWAGER. No refusals. 8.30.

  LADY GILDING (holding out her hand to PROFESSOR). Goodbye, dear Professor.

  PROFESSOR. Goodbye, so glad you ‘re going — came, came.

  (sir george and lady gilding and dowager go. The professor sees them out and returns.)

  Very nice people, extraordinarily kind to me.

  COSENS. They seem very fond of you — especially the little Dowager.

  PROFESSOR. She is a charming woman — very cultured. It is remarkable how interested she is in electricity.

  COSENS (dryly). Is she now!

  PROFESSOR. She is of a very sympathetic nature.

  COSENS. I’m sure she is, but how do you know?

  PROFESSOR. She told me — at least, I think she did.

  COSENS. Remember, you ‘re dining with them tonight.

  PROFESSOR (hotly). I’m doing nothing of the sort.

  COSENS. I heard you promise.

  PROFESSOR (sighing). Did you? I didn’t mean to. I’m a muddle-head outside my work, and now I’m getting muddled even at it. I know what’s the matter with me, Doctor, my brain’s in a dry rot!

  COSENS. Well, a man can be quite happy without a brain. Sir George, for instance! But, perhaps, that is because he has a wife. Why don’t you marry?

  PROFESSOR. Marry! You vindictive fellow!

  COSENS. Ah, you were not such a woman-hater in our College days.

  PROFESSOR. Yes, I was always the same.

  COSENS. You remember the old lodgings in Edinburgh six flights up?

  PROFESSOR. And the bed, it was so small that I had to get up when you wanted to lie down.

  COSENS. Do you remember Jack Pettigrew? He married his landlady’s daughter.

  PROFESSOR. Oh, lots of them married their landlady’s daughters.

  COSENS. Fleming didn’t.

  PROFESSOR. No, he married his landlady.

  COSENS. Bob Sandeman died.

  PROFESSOR. Ah, but he wasn’t true to Agnes. It made a great difference to her.

  COSENS. But she’s got over it?

  PROFESSOR. I’m not quite sure.

  COSENS. There was Crichton, who took so many prizes that we all predicted he would become Lord Chancellor.

  PROFESSOR. Ned Crichton.

  COSENS. Where is he now?

  PROFESSOR. I think he is driving a cab in New York.

  COSENS. You were a gay dog in those days.

  PROFESSOR. I was nothing of the kind.

  COSENS. Don’t you remember that girl you kissed at McAuly’s graduation supper?

  PROFESSOR. I didn’t kiss her.

  COSENS. Yes, you did.

  PROFESSOR. No, I did not.

  COSENS. I saw you — I forget her name.

  PROFESSOR (sweetly). It was Millie Watson.

  (COSENS points triumphantly at him. The PROFESSOR jumps up in confusion.)

  COSENS. YOU confess?

  (PROFESSOR turns and beams on him.)

  Ah, we were not dull old boys then!

  PROFESSOR. No, and your hair used to curl. (Patting COSENS on head.)

  COSENS. We never foresaw a time when we should live in the same city and not see each other once a year — eh, Goodwillie?

  PROFESSOR. You didn’t call me Goodwillie then.

  COSENS. Tom!

  PROFESSOR. Dick, old boy!

  (They hit lightly at each other until body blow, when they sit.)

  Dick, do you really know what’s the matter with me?

  COSENS. Tom, I don’t.

  PROFESSOR. I thought not. (Goes to table and sits.)

  COSENS (following him). But I mean to find out before I leave the house.

  PROFESSOR. My brain is giving way, that’s what it is.

  COSENS. Why do you stick so closely to your work? Why not give yourself a rest?

  PROFESSOR. I can’t, Dick. Sticking closely to my work has become my life.

  COSENS. And robbed you of your youth and all its pleasures — made an old man of you before your time. Ever since we were boys you have done nothing but work. Tom, how old are you?

  PROFESSOR. I don’t know exactly. (Calling) Effie! How old... Oh no, she wouldn’t know either. I’ve given up having birthdays, Dick.

  COSENS. YOU ‘re younger than I am; why, you can’t be much over forty, and you look fifty or more. Give up your work for a bit.

  PROFESSOR. I can’t, Dick. I must finish my book — at any rate I must try.

  COSENS. Then try to do some work here now. I am going to have a cigar and big think over you.

  PROFESSOR. No use. And you mustn’t smoke here. Bad for the machines. Go to the drawingroom if you want to smoke.

  COSENS. All right! I have solved some stiff cases with the help of a cigar.

  PROFESSOR. It can’t possibly tell you why I am unable to work nowadays.

  COSENS. It shall! Here is what I have to place before it. My friend, Goodwillie, is an enthusiastic electrician, whose work has hitherto engrossed him to such an extent that it has become his world. Within the last month, however, he has been unable to give his mind to his work.

  PROFESSOR. Can’t do it, can’t do it.

  COSENS. The question therefore is: has he given his mind to something else — something that now engrosses him more than electricity?

  PROFESSOR. Nonsense, you are insulting my work, Dick!

  COSENS. The cigar has got to tell me what that something is. Can I help it? Yes, to an extent. I can tell it that the only change which has come into your life of late is that your sister has not been here as usual to look after you. Now is that sufficient to account for your breakdown?

  PROFESSOR. Pooh, Dick, pooh! She has left me alone before.

  COSENS. And you are positive that there has been no other change in your life since she went to Tullochmains?

  PROFESSOR. Absolutely none.

  (COSENS rings hell.)

  Now, why did you do that?

  COSENS. I want Miss White — to ask her some questions.

  PROFESSOR. Miss White? What can Miss White tell you about me?

  COSENS. I don’t know — but she puzzles me.

  (Enter EFFIE.)

  Effie, send Miss White here
.

  (Exit EFFIE.)

  PROFESSOR. Miss White can have nothing to tell you. She has not been here long enough. Why, it was after Agnes left that she became my secretary.

  COSENS (excitedly). What?

  PROFESSOR. Miss White never saw me until a month ago.

  COSENS. A month ago! (Great excitement kept up by COSENS until his exit.)

  PROFESSOR. NOW why are you so excited?

  COSENS. Tom, I won’t see Miss White until I’ve had my cigar. (Going.) Oh, if it should be that! If it should be that!

  (Exit.)

  PROFESSOR (calling after him). If it should be that! If it should be what? What are you drivelling about?

  (Enter LUCY.)

  LUCY. Effie said Dr. Cosens wanted to see me.

  PROFESSOR (rising hurriedly, shakes her hand). He changed his mind, I think. Miss Lucy, I must get through some work to-day.

  (He holds her hand for a time. He places chair for her and stands looking at her.)

  LUCY. The papers are all ready. (Sitting.) I think I found a mistake on sheet B 32.

  PROFESSOR. Very likely! B 32?

  LUCY (looks through papers). Section 104. You say that Steinhall’s magneto-electric machine was introduced in 1835. Should it not be galvanometer?

  PROFESSOR. Did I write magneto?

  LUCY. Yes.

  PROFESSOR. Criminal — quite criminal!

  (A slight pause; he prepares to write.)

  LUCY. Shall I go on with the copy?

  PROFESSOR. If you please.

  (lucy looks among papers and he watches her.)

  LUCY. Have you a pen?

  PROFESSOR. Yes, take mine.

  (Gives her his own, watches her a moment, places another pen handy for her, moves water-bottle, corrects proof, hands it to her after business with blotting-pad.)

  There is the corrected sheet.

  (LUCY takes it, puts it in its place and goes on writing. He watches her, then leans back in chair reflecting. He sighs.)

  Lucy!

  LUCY. Did you speak?

  PROFESSOR. No, I don’t think so.

  (The writing is resumed, PROFESSOR watches her, sighs, then comes to himself.) I don’t seem to be able to do any work to-day.

  LUCY. I’ll sit over there. I think my being so near disturbs you. (Takes paper and pen and goes to table.)

  PROFESSOR. I don’t see how that can be; my other secretaries always sat here.

  (She writes, PROFESSOR, unable to keep his mind upon his work, finally takes papers and chair and goes over and sits at the table.)

  LUCY. You were to sit over there.

  PROFESSOR. Bless my soul, what am I doing here? (Returns to table.)

  LUCY. Did Sommering found his bi-signal alphabet on that of Schilling?

  PROFESSOR. Sommering? Never!

  LUCY. I thought not.

  PROFESSOR. Have I put Schilling before Sommering?

  LUCY. Yes.

  PROFESSOR. I used to have an intellect. I really had, Miss White. All gone, all gone!

  LUCY. There is something that I can’t make out.

  (PROFESSOR goes to her.)

  What is it that the small spring Z is joined to? (Hands him paper.)

  (COSENS enters, comes slowly in front of table and listens.)

  PROFESSOR (reading). ‘A steel spring X is connected by a copper cylinder Y with the terminal BD, and a small spring Z is joined by means of the circular bar EFG to the terminal LUCY: (PROFESSOR goes to table and takes diagram.)

  Hullo, Dick. (Looks at diagram, showing it to LUCY.) There is no LUCY in the diagram.

  LUCY. No.

  PROFESSOR. Doctor, do you see any LUCY?

  COSENS. Yes.

  PROFESSOR. Where?

  COSENS (pointing to LUCY). There.

  PROFESSOR. Eh? Oh, her name. This is no jesting matter, Dick, I must resign my chair. (Taps his brow.) Cotton wool, cotton wool.

  (COSENS lowers on LUCY, who quakes beneath his gaze. He opens door for her and she goes as if in disgrace.)

  COSENS. Tom, I’ve found out what’s the matter with you.

  PROFESSOR. What?

  COSENS. Can you stand a shock?

  PROFESSOR. Tell me the worst — quick! Is it grave?

  COSENS. It is very grave. My poor friend, you are in love. (Emphatically.)

  PROFESSOR. What! In love — I — you — how dare you, Dick? Playing with me. Very cruel.

  COSENS. Oh, I didn’t give it to you. You are in love, and at your age it’s bound to be a bad case. You ought to have had it long ago.

  PROFESSOR. Love! Horrible I (Dazed.)

  COSENS. Ah! you feel that it is true!

  PROFESSOR. Love — me! (Suddenly) Who is the woman?

  COSENS. You don’t know?

  PROFESSOR. I haven’t an idea.

  COSENS. Poor Tom!

  PROFESSOR. But it is impossible — I was all right a month ago.

  COSENS. Do you think it can’t happen in a month?

  PROFESSOR (fiercely). Then who is the woman?

  COSENS. Why should I know? I only recognise the symptoms. I am not acquainted with your lady friends.

  PROFESSOR. Lady friends? (Growing pale) Dick, it can’t be the little Dowager, can it? I haven’t been paying attentions to her without knowing it, have I?

  COSENS. Search your heart, Tom!

  PROFESSOR. Dick, when we were sitting there, she and I — I think she was talking about love to me!

  COSENS. Are you sure, Tom, that you didn’t talk about it to her?

  PROFESSOR. Dick! (He rings bell.)

  COSENS. Poor old man!

  PROFESSOR. Brain addled! Might do anything.

  (Enter EFFIE.)

  Effie, have you noticed me paying particular attention to any lady lately?

  EFFIE. Losh preserve us.

  PROFESSOR. To the Dowager, for instance? Have you?

  EFFIE. No, sir.

  PROFESSOR. On your oath?

  EFFIE. On my oath, sir.

  PROFESSOR. Do you hear that, Dick? Effie would know. It’s all right — right as rain. (To effie) Send Miss White here.

  (Exit EFFIE.)

  COSENS. Why do you want Miss White?

  PROFESSOR. To ask her the same question.

  COSENS. Good heavens!

  PROFESSOR. Why are you so surprised? If such a thing has been going on with any other lady than the Dowager she must have noticed it. She has been with me constantly.

  (LUCY enters, followed by EFFIE.) I don’t need you any more, Effie.

  (EFFIE goes reluctantly.)

  Miss White, since you have been in this house, have I spoken a dozen sentences to any lady besides yourself?

  LUCY. Not so far as I know.

  PROFESSOR. That won’t do. On your oath.

  LUCY. On my oath.

  PROFESSOR. There, Dick, that settles it. Confess that you were merely trying to frighten me.

  COSENS (almost whispering). I was doing nothing of the kind. I was telling you the truth.

  PROFESSOR. Snap my fingers! (Snaps them at COSENS.)

  Snap my fingers!

  (PROFESSOR glares at him and goes.)

  COSENS. So, Miss White.

  LUCY. Please don’t fold your arms in that way. It frightens me. I’ll do anything you like. Shall I say 99?

  COSENS. I have found you out! You know what I mean! I wonder you have not managed to lure him to a proposal.

  LUCY. Thank you.

  COSENS. But I suppose you have been cautious with your fish lest the first glimpse of the hook should frighten him.