What Every Woman Knows Part 27

COMTESSE. Know what?

MAGGIE. As soon as I look into his face I shall know.

[A delicious scent ushers in the fair SYBIL, who is as sweet as a milking stool. She greets MRS. SHAND with some alarm.]

MAGGIE. How do you do, Lady Sybil? How pretty you look in that frock.

[SYBIL rustles uncomfortably.] You are a feast to the eye.

SYBIL. Please, I wish you would not.

[Shall we describe SYBIL'S frock, in which she looks like a great strawberry that knows it ought to be plucked; or would it be easier to watch the coming of JOHN? Let us watch JOHN.]

JOHN. You, Maggie! You never wrote that you were coming.

[No, let us watch MAGGIE. As soon as she looked into his face she was to know something of importance.]

MAGGIE [not dissatisfied with what she sees]. No, John, it's a surprise visit. I just ran down to say good-bye.

[At this his face falls, which does not seem to pain her.]

SYBIL [foreseeing another horrible Scotch scene]. To say good-bye?

COMTESSE [thrilling with expectation]. To whom, Maggie?

SYBIL [deserted by the impediment, which is probably playing with rough boys in the Lovers' Lane]. Auntie, do leave us, won't you?

COMTESSE. Not I. It is becoming far too interesting.

MAGGIE. I suppose there's no reason the Comtesse shouldn't be told, as she will know so soon at any rate?

JOHN. That's so. [SYBIL sees with discomfort that he is to be practical also.]

MAGGIE. It's so simple. You see, Comtesse, John and Lady Sybil have fallen in love with one another, and they are to go off as soon as the meeting at Leeds has taken place.

[The COMTESSE's breast is too suddenly introduced to Caledonia and its varied charms.]

COMTESSE. Mon Dieu!

MAGGIE. I think that's putting it correctly, John.

JOHN. In a sense. But I'm not to attend the meeting at Leeds. My speech doesn't find favour. [With a strange humility] There's something wrong with it.

COMTESSE. I never expected to hear you say that, Mr. Shand.

JOHN [wondering also]. I never expected it myself. I meant to make it the speech of my career. But somehow my hand seems to have lost its cunning.

COMTESSE. And you don't know how?

JOHN. It's inexplicable. My brain was never clearer.

COMTESSE. You might have helped him, Sybil.

SYBIL [quite sulkily]. I did.

COMTESSE. But I thought she was such an inspiration to you, Mr. Shand.

JOHN [going bravely to SYBIL'S side]. She slaved at it with me.

COMTESSE. Strange. [Wickedly becoming practical also] So now there is nothing to detain you. Shall I send for a fly, Sybil?

SYBIL [with a cry of the heart]. Auntie, do leave us.

COMTESSE. I can understand your impatience to be gone, Mr. Shand.

JOHN [heavily]. I promised Maggie to wait till the 24th, and I'm a man of my word.

MAGGIE. But I give you back your word, John. You can go now.

[JOHN looks at SYBIL, and SYBIL looks at JOHN, and the impediment arrives in time to take a peep at both of them.]

SYBIL [groping for the practical, to which we must all come in the end].

He must make satisfactory arrangements about you first. I insist on that.

MAGGIE [with no more imagination than a hen]. Thank you, Lady Sybil, but I have made all my arrangements.

JOHN [stung]. Maggie, that was my part.

MAGGIE. You see, my brothers feel they can't be away from their business any longer; and so, if it would be convenient to you, John, I could travel north with them by the night train on Wednesday.

SYBIL. I--I----The way you put things---!

JOHN. This is just the 21st.

MAGGIE. My things are all packed. I think you'll find the house in good order, Lady Sybil. I have had the vacuum cleaners in. I'll give you the keys of the linen and the silver plate; I have them in that bag. The carpet on the upper landing is a good deal frayed, but---

SYBIL. Please, I don't want to hear any more.

MAGGIE. The ceiling of the dining-room would be the better of a new lick of paint---

SYBIL [stamping her foot, small fours]. Can't you stop her?

JOHN [soothingly]. She's meaning well. Maggie, I know it's natural to you to value those things, because your outlook on life is bounded by them; but all this jars on me.

MAGGIE. Does it?

JOHN. Why should you be so ready to go?

MAGGIE. I promised not to stand in your way.