An Ideal Husband Part 16

LORD CAVERSHAM. Talk in your sleep, sir? What does that matter? You are not married.

LORD GORING. No, father, I am not married.

LORD CAVERSHAM. Hum! That is what I have come to talk to you about, sir. You have got to get married, and at once. Why, when I was your age, sir, I had been an inconsolable widower for three months, and was already paying my addresses to your admirable mother. Damme, sir, it is your duty to get married. You can't be always living for pleasure.

Every man of position is married nowadays. Bachelors are not fas.h.i.+onable any more. They are a damaged lot. Too much is known about them. You must get a wife, sir. Look where your friend Robert Chiltern has got to by probity, hard work, and a sensible marriage with a good woman. Why don't you imitate him, sir? Why don't you take him for your model?

LORD GORING. I think I shall, father.

LORD CAVERSHAM. I wish you would, sir. Then I should be happy. At present I make your mother's life miserable on your account. You are heartless, sir, quite heartless.

LORD GORING. I hope not, father.

LORD CAVERSHAM. And it is high time for you to get married. You are thirty-four years of age, sir.

LORD GORING. Yes, father, but I only admit to thirty-two-thirty-one and a half when I have a really good b.u.t.tonhole. This b.u.t.tonhole is not ...

trivial enough.

LORD CAVERSHAM. I tell you you are thirty-four, sir. And there is a draught in your room, besides, which makes your conduct worse. Why did you tell me there was no draught, sir? I feel a draught, sir, I feel it distinctly.

LORD GORING. So do I, father. It is a dreadful draught. I will come and see you to-morrow, father. We can talk over anything you like. Let me help you on with your cloak, father.

LORD CAVERSHAM. No, sir; I have called this evening for a definite purpose, and I am going to see it through at all costs to my health or yours. Put down my cloak, sir.

LORD GORING. Certainly, father. But let us go into another room.

[_Rings bell_.] There is a dreadful draught here. [_Enter_ PHIPPS.]

Phipps, is there a good fire in the smoking-room?

PHIPPS. Yes, my lord.

LORD GORING. Come in there, father. Your sneezes are quite heartrending.

LORD CAVERSHAM. Well, sir, I suppose I have a right to sneeze when I choose?

LORD GORING. [_Apologetically_.] Quite so, father. I was merely expressing sympathy.

LORD CAVERSHAM. Oh, d.a.m.n sympathy. There is a great deal too much of that sort of thing going on nowadays.

LORD GORING. I quite agree with you, father. If there was less sympathy in the world there would be less trouble in the world.

LORD CAVERSHAM. [_Going towards the smoking-room_.] That is a paradox, sir. I hate paradoxes.

LORD GORING. So do I, father. Everybody one meets is a paradox nowadays. It is a great bore. It makes society so obvious.

LORD CAVERSHAM. [_Turning round_, _and looking at his son beneath his bushy eyebrows_.] Do you always really understand what you say, sir?

LORD GORING. [_After some hesitation_.] Yes, father, if I listen attentively.

LORD CAVERSHAM. [_Indignantly_.] If you listen attentively! ...

Conceited young puppy!

[_Goes off grumbling into the smoking-room_. PHIPPS _enters_.]

LORD GORING. Phipps, there is a lady coming to see me this evening on particular business. Show her into the drawing-room when she arrives.

You understand?

PHIPPS. Yes, my lord.

LORD GORING. It is a matter of the gravest importance, Phipps.

PHIPPS. I understand, my lord.

LORD GORING. No one else is to be admitted, under any circ.u.mstances.

PHIPPS. I understand, my lord. [_Bell rings_.]

LORD GORING. Ah! that is probably the lady. I shall see her myself.

[_Just as he is going towards the door_ LORD CAVERSHAM _enters from the smoking-room_.]

LORD CAVERSHAM. Well, sir? am I to wait attendance on you?

LORD GORING. [_Considerably perplexed_.] In a moment, father. Do excuse me. [LORD CAVERSHAM _goes back_.] Well, remember my instructions, Phipps-into that room.

PHIPPS. Yes, my lord.

[LORD GORING _goes into the smoking-room_. HAROLD, _the footman shows_ MRS. CHEVELEY _in_. _Lamia-like_, _she is in green and silver_. _She has a cloak of black satin_, _lined with dead rose-leaf silk_.]

HAROLD. What name, madam?

MRS. CHEVELEY. [_To_ PHIPPS, _who advances towards her_.] Is Lord Goring not here? I was told he was at home?

PHIPPS. His lords.h.i.+p is engaged at present with Lord Caversham, madam.

[_Turns a cold_, _gla.s.sy eye on_ HAROLD, _who at once retires_.]

MRS. CHEVELEY. [_To herself_.] How very filial!

PHIPPS. His lords.h.i.+p told me to ask you, madam, to be kind enough to wait in the drawing-room for him. His lords.h.i.+p will come to you there.

MRS. CHEVELEY. [_With a look of surprise_.] Lord Goring expects me?

PHIPPS. Yes, madam.

MRS. CHEVELEY. Are you quite sure?

PHIPPS. His lords.h.i.+p told me that if a lady called I was to ask her to wait in the drawing-room. [_Goes to the door of the drawing-room and opens it_.] His lords.h.i.+p's directions on the subject were very precise.

MRS. CHEVELEY. [_To herself_] How thoughtful of him! To expect the unexpected shows a thoroughly modern intellect. [_Goes towards the drawing-room and looks in_.] Ugh! How dreary a bachelor's drawing-room always looks. I shall have to alter all this. [PHIPPS _brings the lamp from the writing-table_.] No, I don't care for that lamp. It is far too glaring. Light some candles.