Second Plays Part 79

LADY PEMBURY. No, no. You're asking him to trample you right down into it, deeper and deeper into the mud and slime. I want you to let him help you back to where you were two years ago--when you were proud and hopeful.

STRANGER (looking at her in a puzzled way). I can't make out what your game is. It's no good pretending you don't hate the sight of me--it stands to reason you must.

LADY PEMBURY (smiling). But then women _are_ unreasonable, aren't they? And I think it is only in fairy-stories that stepmothers are always so unkind.

STRANGER (surprised). Stepmother!

LADY PEMBURY. Well, that's practically what I am, isn't it?

(Whimsically) I've never been a stepmother before. (Persuasively) Couldn't you let me be proud of my stepson?

STRANGER. Well, you _are_ a one! . . . Do you mean to say that you and your husband aren't going to have a row about this?

LADY PEMBURY. It's rather late to begin a row, isn't it, thirty years after it's happened? . . . Besides, perhaps you aren't going to tell him anything about it.

STRANGER. But what else have I come for except to tell him?

LADY PEMBURY. To tell _me_. . . . I asked you to give him a chance of helping you out of your troubles, but I'd rather you gave _me_ the chance. . . . You see, John would be very unhappy if he knew that I knew this; and he would have to tell me, because when a man has been happily married to anybody for twenty-eight years, he can't really keep a secret from the other one. He pretends to himself that he can, but he knows all the time what a miserable pretence it is. And so John would tell me, and say he was sorry, and I would say: "It's all right, darling, I knew," but it would make him ashamed, and he would be afraid that perhaps I wasn't thinking him such a wonderful man as I did before. And it's very bad for a public man like John when he begins to lose faith in what his wife is thinking about him. . . . So let _me_ be your friend, will you? (There is a silence between them for a little. He looks at her wonderingly. Suddenly she stands up, her finger to her lips) H's.h.!.+ It's John. (She moves away from him)

(SIR JOHN PEMBURY comes in quickly; big, good-looking, decisive, friendly; a man who wears very naturally, and without any self-consciousness, an air of being somebody.)

PEMBURY (walking hastily past his wife to her writing-desk). Hallo, darling! Did I leave a cheque-book in here? I was writing a cheque for you this morning. Ah, here we are. (As he comes back, he sees THE STRANGER) I beg your pardon, Kate. I didn't see---- (He is making for the door with the cheque-book in his hand, and then stops and says with a pleasant smile to THE STRANGER) But, perhaps you are waiting to see _me_? Perkins said something----

STRANGER (coming forward). Yes, I came to see you, Sir John.

(He stands close in front of SIR JOHN, looking at him. LADY PEMBURY watches them steadfastly.)

PEMBURY (tapping his cheque-book against his hand). Important?

STRANGER. I came to ask your help.

PEMBURY (looking at his cheque-book and then back with a smile at THE STRANGER). A good many people do that. Have you any special claim on me?

STRANGER (after a long pause). No.

(PEMBURY looks at him, undecided, LADY PEMBURY comes forward.)

LADY PEMBURY. All right, dear. (Meaning that she will look after THE STRANGER till he comes back.)

PEMBURY. I'll be back in a moment. (He nods and hurries out)

(There is silence for a little, and then LADY PEMBURY claps her hands gently.)

LADY PEMBURY (with s.h.i.+ning eyes). Oh, brave, brave! Ah, but I am a proud stepmother to-day. (She holds out her hand to him) Thank you, son.

STRANGER (not seeing it, and speaking in a hard voice). I'd better go.

LADY PEMBURY. Mayn't I help you?

STRANGER. I'd better go.

LADY PEMBURY (distressed). You can't go like this. I don't even know your name, nor where you live.

STRANGER. Don't be afraid--you shan't hear from _me_ again.

LADY PEMBURY (gently). Not even when you've got back to where you were two years ago? Mayn't I then?

STRANGER (looking at her, and then nodding slowly). Yes, you shall then.

LADY PEMBURY. Thank you. I shall wait. I shall hope. I shall pray.

(She holds out her hand again) Good-bye!

STRANGER (shaking his head). Wait till you hear from me. (He goes to the door, and then stops and comes slowly back. He says awkwardly) Wish you'd do one thing for me?

LADY PEMBURY. Yes?

STRANGER. That fellow--what did you say his name was--Perkins?

LADY PEMBURY (surprised). The butler? Perkins--yes?

STRANGER. Would you give him a message from me?

LADY PEMBURY. Of course.

STRANGER (still awkwardly). Just to say--I'll _be_ there--at the Mews--on Sunday afternoon. _He'll_ know. Tell him I'll be there. (He squares his shoulders and walks out defiantly--ready to take the world on again--beginning with PERKINS on Sunday afternoon)

(LADY PEMBURY stands watching him as he goes. She waits after he has gone, thinking her own thoughts, out of which she comes with something of a shock as the door opens and SIR JOHN comes in.)

PEMBURY. Hallo! Has he gone?

LADY PEMBURY. Yes.

PEMBURY. What did he want? Five pounds--or a place in the Cabinet?

LADY PEMBURY. He came for--a subscription.

PEMBURY. And got it, if I know my Kate. (Carelessly) What did he take from you?

LADY PEMBURY (with a wistful little sigh). Yes; he took something from me. Not very much, I think. But just--something. (She takes his arm, leads him to the sofa, and says affectionately) And now tell me all that you've been doing this morning.

(So he begins to tell her--just as he has told her a thousand times before. . . . But it isn't quite the same)

BY THE SAME AUTHOR

FIRST PLAYS