The Tyranny of Tears Part 22

-nothing quite worth a tear. [He is bending towards her.]

[Mrs. Parbury, who is slightly in advance of Armitage and Gunning, stops near Miss Woodward and Parbury, brought up short by seeing their intimate position. Parbury draws back from Miss Woodward, who remains upright and motionless. Gunning and Armitage, who exchange glances, remain L. Miss Woodward crosses L. to go.

Mrs. Parbury.

[In a low voice, speaking slowly, with deep emotion.] I suppose-I have still a right to ask-for some explanation?

Parbury.

Of what, dear?

Mrs. Parbury.

Of this familiarity.

Parbury.

You shouldn't mistake sympathy for familiarity. I was only giving Miss Woodward some advice about her affairs.

Mrs. Parbury.

What affairs?

Parbury.

I said her affairs, dear, not ours.

Mrs. Parbury.

If that is all the explanation-- [Turns away L.

Miss Woodward.

Mr. Parbury very kindly and very properly advised me to go home for a time-[She comes down to Mrs. Parbury and speaks to her alone]-and I-I descended to your level-I cried!

Quick Curtain.

END OF ACT III.

ACT IV.

Scene.-Same as Acts I. and II.

Same day as Act III.

[Upon the curtain rising, Miss Woodward is discovered at the desk. A luncheon gong is immediately heard. Miss Woodward looks up and listens for a moment, then shrugs her shoulders and resumes her work. She opens a drawer of the desk, glances at its contents, and then writes.]

Miss Woodward.

[Writing.] Drawer four. Reviews favourable of "Harvey Masterton." In top corner, tied in bundle, reviews unfavourable. [She closes and locks that drawer and unlocks another, into which she looks. Writing.] Drawer five. Proof sheets of new novel corrected to page 180. At back, accounts with publishers. [The luncheon gong is struck again. She opens another drawer, looks into it for a moment, turns over its contents, then shrugs her shoulders and writes.] A variety of photographs of Mrs. Parbury and two packets of letters marked "Private." How touching! [She closes the drawer with a bang, and opens another.]

Enter Evans, L.

Evans.

[C.] Excuse me, Miss, but have you heard the luncheon gong?

Miss Woodward.

Yes, thank you.

Evans.

It's been struck twice, specially for you, Miss.

Miss Woodward.

Who told you to strike it the second time?

Evans.

Mr. Parbury, Miss.

Miss Woodward.

And who sent you now?

Evans.

Mrs. Parbury asked me to tell you they're at lunch. They're the only words that's been spoken since they sat down. It's rather trying to the nerves, Miss, waiting on people that only open their mouths to eat.

Miss Woodward.

You will please say that I don't wish any lunch.

Evans.

Yes, Miss.

Miss Woodward.

Has Emma packed my things?

Evans.

She's packing them now, Miss.

Miss Woodward.

[Glancing at an A.B.C. which is on the desk.] Will you please order a cab for me at-let me see-[consulting the book]-four-twenty-say at half-past three.

Evans.

Yes, Miss. Excuse me, Miss, but we're all very sorry you're going-particularly cook. Cook's very strong in her attachments.

Miss Woodward.

[Looking into a drawer.] It's very kind of cook.

Evans.

Cook's words was, "This'll be a dull 'ouse when the little sunbeam's gone."

Miss Woodward.

That will do, Evans.

Evans.

Excuse me, Miss, it was meant kindly. We was all on your side in this embroglo.

[A pause. Miss Woodward is obstinately silent, and goes on working.

Evans.

Can't I get you something, Miss?

Miss Woodward.

Yes; ask cook to kindly make me a sandwich, and I'll have a gla.s.s of beer.

Evans.

Sandwich of mutton or 'am, Miss?

Miss Woodward.

Ham, please. [Exit Evans, L.] It's sure to be cold mutton to-night. [She writes.] Old ma.n.u.scripts. [Closes drawer.] There, that's all in order for him. [Rises.] I know there are some books of mine here. I may as well have them. [Goes towards book-shelves, but stops when she comes to the occasional table on which is the photo of Mr. Parbury. She stretches out her hand and takes the photograph gingerly. Then she looks round to see if she is observed, with to herself an affectation of fear.] Poor thing! Was it outraged by a kiss! What a shame! But it's all right now! [Puts it back with care.] No one shall hurt it. It's perfectly safe-perfectly safe. [She goes to book-shelf.] Keats-mine. [Takes a volume.] Matthew Arnold-mine.

Enter Evans with sandwiches, beer, &c., on a small tray, which he places on the desk.

Jane Eyre-mine. I think that's all. [Brings the books down and places them on desk.] Thank you, Evans.

[She sits.

Evans.

Cook thought you would care for that piece of cake, Miss.

Miss Woodward.

I would. Thank cook for me.

Evans.

Yes, Miss. [He goes to door.] There's still a hominous silence at the lunch-table, Miss.

Miss Woodward.

[Taking a sandwich.] That's all right, Evans. [Exit Evans, L.] After all, one must have food. [She takes a respectable bite out of a sandwich.] And who could over-estimate the consolations of literature? [Opens a book and reads.]

"Is the calm thine of stoic souls who weigh Life well, and find it wanting, nor deplore, But in disdainful silence turn away, Stand mute, self-centred, stern, and dream no more?"

Yes, Mr. Arnold, it is.

[Takes another bite of a sandwich.

Enter Mrs. Parbury, L.

Mrs. Parbury.

Why won't you come to lunch, Miss Woodward. But oh, I see you're having something here.

Miss Woodward.

[For a moment slightly confused.] I-I-[Drinks some of her beer]-I have a railway journey before me.

[She rises.

Mrs. Parbury.

All the more reason you should come and lunch properly.