The Yellow Book - LightNovelsOnl.com
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By Fred M. Simpson
PERSONS REPRESENTED
Lucy Rimmerton. Harold Sekbourne
Scene I--The period is 1863
_The sitting-room in_ Lucy Rimmerton's _lodgings. She is seated in front of the fire making some toast._
_Lucy._ There! I think that will do, although it isn't anything very great. [_Rises._] What a colour I must have! Harold says I always manage to toast myself very much better than I do the bread. [_Lights the gas, and begins arranging some flowers on the table._] His favourite flowers; I know he will be pleased when he sees them. How strange it is that he should really care for me!--I, who am so commonplace and ordinary, hardly pretty either, although he says I am. I always tell him he might have done so much better than propose to a poor governess without a penny.--Oh, if only his book proves a success!--a really great success!--how glorious it will be! Why doesn't the wretched publisher make haste and bring it out? I believe he is keeping it back on purpose.
What dreadful creatures they are! At first--squabble, squabble, squabble; squabble about terms, squabble about this, another squabble about that, and then, when everything is finally arranged, delay, delay, delay. "You must wait for the publis.h.i.+ng season." As though a book were a young lady whose future might be seriously jeopardised if it made its _debut_ at an unfas.h.i.+onable time.
[_The door opens, and_ Harold _bursts into the room_.]
_Harold._ It's out, it's out; out at last.
_Lucy._ What, the book! Really! Where is it? Do show it to me.
_Harold._ Do you think you deserve it!
_Lucy._ Oh! don't tantalise me. Have you seen it? What is it like!
_Harold._ It is printed, and very much like other books.
_Lucy._ You are horrid. I believe you have it with you. Have you?
_Harold._ And what if I say yes?
_Lucy._ You have. Do let me see it.
_Harold._ And will you be very good if I do!
_Lucy._ I'll be angelic.
_Harold._ Then on that condition only--There! take it gently. [Lucy _s.n.a.t.c.hes it, and cuts the string_.] I thought you never cut string?
_Lucy._ There is never a never that hasn't an exception.
_Harold._ Not a woman's, certainly.
_Lucy._ Oh! how nice it looks! And to think that it is yours, really and truly yours. "Grace: a Sketch. By Harold Sekbourne." It's delicious!
[_Holding the book, dances round the room._]
_Harold._ I shall begin to be jealous. You will soon be more in love with my book than you are with me.
_Lucy._ And why shouldn't I be? Haven't you always said that a man's work is the best part of him?
_Harold._ If my silly sayings are to be brought up in evidence against me like this, I shall----
_Lucy._ You shall what?
_Harold._ Take the book back.
_Lucy._ Oh, will you? I should like to see you do it. [_Holds it behind her._] You have got to get it first.
_Harold._ And what are you going to give me for it?
_Lucy._ Isn't it a presentation copy?
_Harold._ It is the very first to leave the printer's.
_Lucy._ Then you ought not to want any payment.
_Harold._ I do though, all the same. Come--no payment, no book.
_Lucy._ There, there, there!
_Harold._ And there.
_Lucy._ Oh! don't! You'll stifle me. And is this for me; may I really keep it?
_Harold._ Of course you may; I brought it expressly for you.
_Lucy._ How nice of you! And you'll write my name in it?
_Harold._ I'll write the dedication.
_Lucy._ What do you mean?
_Harold._ You shall see. Pen and ink for the author! A new pen and virgin ink!
_Lucy._ Your Authors.h.i.+p has but to command to be obeyed.
_Harold._ [_Sitting down, writes._] It is printed in all the other copies, but this one I have had bound specially for you, with a blank sheet where the dedication comes, so that in your copy, and yours alone, I can write it myself. There.
_Lucy._ [_Looks over his shoulder and reads._] "To my Lady Luce." Oh, Harold, you have dedicated it to me!
_Harold._ Who else could I dedicate it to? although 'tis--
"Not so much honouring thee, As giving it a hope that now It may immortal be."
_Lucy._ It is good of you.
_Harold._ [_Writes again._] "Harold Sekbourne"--what's to-day?--oh, yes, "3rd November, 1863."
