The Silver Shield Part 17

_DOCTOR winks solemnly at SIR HUMPHREY, who smiles._

SIR H. I'd not noticed them.

MRS. D. Ah! she's so sly about it. Ah, well, well! I suppose a ballet-dancer knows no better.

NED. Mrs. Blake doesn't dance! (_crosses, sits at desk_)

DR. There is a difference between an actress and a _coryphee._

MRS. D. (_sharply_) What _do you_ know of _coryphees?_

DR. (_starts_) I saw one once, my dear.

MRS. D. I thought you were never inside a theatre?

DR. It was not at a theatre; it was at a hall.

NED. What were you doing there?

MRS. D. Explain yourself.

DR. As it is the duty of the physician to acquaint himself with the diseases of the flesh, so it is the duty of the pastor to acquaint himself with the afflictions of the spirit. (_goes, L._)

_Re-enter ALMA, L._

ALMA. (_crosses; aside to NED_) Lucy won't see me, and she's not coming down.

NED. Not coming down?

ALMA. Something's the matter with your wife--ah! (_catching sight of the ring sets her foot on it_)

NED. (_rises_) What is it?

ALMA. Get rid of these people. (_NED crosses to DOCTOR, L._)

MRS. D. Sir Humphrey, this explains something that's puzzled me for years.

SIR H. What's that, Mrs. Dozey?

MRS. D. Why Dionysius always brings a black tie with him when he comes to London. (_SIR HUMPHREY rises, goes up R.C. with MRS. DOZEY._)

DR. (_to NED_) Sherry and bitters? Excellent idea.

NED. Come with me, doctor. Father, take Mrs. Dozey.

DR. Bitters impart a zest to appet.i.te and give a tone to the digestive organs.

_Exeunt SIR HUMPHREY, MRS. DOZEY, DR. DOZEY, and NED, R. Check lights and limes._

ALMA. What does this mean? (_picks up the ring_) Her wedding ring. It isn't as bright as when I saw it first; but what of that? Six months of marriage take the s.h.i.+ne out of a good many wedding-rings. What was it doing there? It couldn't have dropped off by accident. No--it's too small for that--it must have been tight. Perhaps it was too tight.

That's it! (_crosses to R.C._) That's it, you may depend. Now, let me think. Under what circ.u.mstances does a woman take to throwing rings about? In Sparkle's comedies they do it in a temper. Clever man--but human nature's scarcely Sparkle's forte. Stop! I once threw away my wedding-ring. What for? If I could think--I know! I know! It was the only time in my life I was jealous of Tom! That's what's the matter!

(_crosses to C._) Mrs. Chetwynd's jealous. Now what has Ned been doing? Whom's she jealous of? I must find out. She had it on just now--when Ned went out with me. She must have found out something since. Now, what did _I_ do when my husband was out? I looked in all his pockets and I rummaged through all his papers. (_looks round_) There are no pockets here, but there are any number of papers. (_goes to desk_) Let me have a look. I'll find it in three tries. (_pouncing on the letter, sits_) "My own dearest Alma." Found at one! The letter in the play! of course! of course! it's me she's jealous of! It must be me. (_rises, takes letter and reads_) "At last I have a moment to myself, to scribble a hasty answer to your note." (_reads on with her back turned to door, L. Re-enter LUCY, L., in out-door costume, very cautiously creeps in, sees ALMA, and starts violently, then stands motionless. The stage has by this time grown rather dim, as if it were getting dusk. Check lights, check to half down. Lights gradually fade away and go out_) "Why have I a wife? She is a mere child for whom I had a pa.s.sing fancy."

LUCY. (_under her breath_) She's reading the letter!

ALMA. "Nothing can now remove the barrier between us. With my own hand I have destroyed my happiness." Oh, no, you haven't, Ned! I'll make you happy yet. Now I understand the state of affairs I know what to do. (_puts letter on table_) The barrier must be broken down--smashed--blown to atoms! Oh, dear, I feel so happy! (_turns; slips behind a screen_) Ned! dear old Ned! Where are you? (_runs out, R._)

LUCY. (_emerging_) Yes, they shall both be happy. (_surveying the room_) Good-bye, everything. (_crosses to piano_) Piano that he gave me. Old music that he used to like. I shall never dare to sing you any more. (_crosses to cabinet, addressing photograph of SIR HUMPHREY_) Good-bye, my only father, who would never own me. I'm not your daughter now. (_crosses to cabinet, L., brings photograph of NED to table, L._) Good-bye, Ned, my husband! You won't see me any more.

Don't look at me in that way. If you don't love me, say good-bye to me. (_sits at table. Re-enter SERVANT, R., with lamp, which she puts on cabinet, R.; the noise attracts LUCY'S attention; softly_) Wilson?

SERV. (_starts slightly_) You here, m'm?

LUCY. (_rises_) I'm going out.

SERV. Going out, Mrs. Chetwynd?

LUCY. Don't say anything; but give this note to Mr. Chetwynd. (_gives note_) Good-bye, Wilson.

SERV. Good-bye?

LUCY. I mean good night. (_Exit through window off, L. SERVANT closes window, draws curtains, exit, L._)

_Re-enter ALMA and NED, R._

ALMA. Yes, it's as plain as the nose on my face. It's me she's jealous of.

NED. Jealous of you? Ridiculous!

ALMA. I don't see anything ridiculous about it.

NED. The idea of anybody being jealous of you!

ALMA. You ask Wilson and you'll find I'm right. (_NED rings bell_)

_Re-enter SIR HUMPHREY; DR. and MRS. DOZEY, R._

SIR H. You always are right, Mrs. Blake. What should we do without you?

_Re-enter SERVANT, L., with letter._

NED. Wilson, where's Mrs. Chetwynd?

SERV. She's gone out, sir.

ALL. Out?

DR. At this hour?

MRS. D. I thought she wasn't well?