In Honour Bound Part 4

SIR G. I see. That is the chain.

ROSE. He nearly breaks it half a dozen times, but something always happens to prevent him. You've no idea how interesting it is--although, of course, it's very, very wrong.

SIR G. Why wrong?

ROSE. Well, you see, someone else is married; and of course she oughtn't to care anything about the nice young man.

SIR G. Although he has so lovely a moustache.

ROSE. But she does--which is wicked--but it's very interesting.

SIR G. (_to LADY CARLYON_) What did _you_ think of it, my dear?

LADY C. It is a painful subject.

ROSE. Aunt Bell didn't like it; but she took it all so seriously. If it were real, it would be very sad; but after all what is it but a play? Besides, it all takes place in Paris: n.o.body pretends that such things happen here.

LADY C. Of course. (_quickly_)

PHILIP. Of course. (_quickly_)

SIR G. (_ironically_) Of course. (_takes up the third brief on his right--and plays with it_)

ROSE. I read a notice of the piece this morning, and I quite agreed with it.

SIR G. What did the notice say?

ROSE. It said it was "an admirable play, but that an English version of it was impossible."

SIR G. Why so?

ROSE. "Because"--how did it put it?--oh, "because these vivid but unwholesome pictures of French life have happily no"--something--I forget exactly what--"to the chaste beauty of our English homes." I can't remember the precise words, but I know the criticism made me long to see the play.

SIR G. (_putting the brief back in its place, after he sees it has caught PHILIP'S eyes_) Of course it filled the theatre?

LADY C. The house was crowded, and the atmosphere was insupportable.

(_smells bouquet_)

SIR G. No doubt; if you were bending all night long over those sickly flowers. (_crosses to her--she rises_) Give them to me. (_takes bouquet_) Why, they are almost withered.

(_comes, C., with bouquet_)

LADY C. They were fresh yesterday.

SIR G. (C.) To-days and yesterdays are different things.

(_holds the bouquet, head downwards_)

ROSE. It wasn't the flowers, though. Aunt Bell didn't like the play

PHILIP. It isn't everybody who admires French plays.

SIR G. (_to LADY CARLYON_) What, were you scandalised? You must know, Philip--you do know, of course--Lady Carlyon is a dragon in her way--the very pink and pattern of propriety. Now, I'll be bound, she didn't like the moral of that comedy.

LADY C. Had it a moral?

SIR G. Certainly! and one men would do well to lay to heart. If that young man----

ROSE. The one with the moustache?

SIR G. Had buried his first love when it was dead, he wouldn't have been haunted by its ghost. When pa.s.sion is burnt out, sweep the hearth clean, and clear away the ash, before you set alight another fire. It is a law of life. Old things give place to new. The loves of yesterday are like these faded flowers, fit only to be cast into the flames.

(_flings bouquet into fire_) That is the moral: and I call it excellent. (_sits, C., and looks at PHILIP_)

LADY C. (_aside_) He doesn't speak to me. Am _I_ a faded flower?

(_sits, L._)

ROSE. Very good, Uncle George. That ought to get the verdict.

(_leaning upon his shoulder_)

SIR G. Let us hope it will. (_looking at PHILIP_)

ROSE. If all your speeches are as nice as that, I must come down to court and hear you plead.

SIR G. I shall be proud to have so fair an auditor. But we've not told your aunt the news.

LADY C. What news?

SIR G. Philip informs me, much to my surprise----

PHILIP. (_rising_) Sir George! I have considered your advice, and have resolved to act on it. Till I have done so it would perhaps be better----

SIR G. Not to say anything? I will respect your confidence.

LADY C. You have some private matter to discuss. Shall we go?

(_rises_)

SIR G. _We_ will go, if you will excuse us. (_rises_)

LADY C. Certainly.

SIR G. (_to PHILIP_) Come with me. (_Exit, L._)

PHILIP. In case I don't see you again, Miss Dalrymple, good night.

(_bows_)

ROSE. Good evening, Mr. Graham. (_she curtseys ceremoniously_)

LADY C. (_aside_) What can they have to talk about--those two?