Part 4

ROYS. (_aside_). Her sister again! If we go on at this rate, we sha'n't get on very fast! (_Aloud._) Allow me to be frank with you; my brother Jonathan--but perhaps you've never heard of Jonathan?--Jonathan Royston, of Banbury--where the cakes come from--well, he often reproaches me with being what he calls rather wild and fast and flighty--

JULIA. The only fault I find with Josephine, dear child. She is so giddy, so thoughtless, so excitable! What a capital match you'd make! Ha, ha, ha!

ROYS. (_aside_). That's a pretty broad hint! (_Aloud._) And he--I mean Jonathan--says that the best thing I could do would be to get _married!_

JULIA. The very conclusion I have come to about Josephine.

ROYS. (_aside_). It really looks as if she wanted to turn me over to her sister. (_Aloud._) And having received the flattering assurance that my pretensions to your hand might possibly not be unsuccessful--

JULIA. From whom, pray? Doubtless from my aunt.

ROYS. Oh no! From my dear old friend, Barton.

JULIA (_indignantly_). Mr. Barton? He? No, no! I cannot, _will_ not believe it!

ROYS. I'm sure he will not deny it--and see, fortunately, he's here!

_Enter BARTON at door R. H._

BART. Miss Templeton, your presence is required in the drawing-room.

JULIA (_very coldly, and seating herself at table_). Presently.

BART. (_aside to ROYSTON_). Well, what news?

ROYS. (_aside_). All right! At least, if it isn't this one, it'll be the other! One of the two!

BART. What do you mean by "the other?"

ROYS. The "little, harmless, insignificant school-girl," you know!

BART. (_aside_). Confound the fellow!

ROYS. You first put the notion of marriage into my head, and I won't leave this house a bachelor; I'll marry somebody! I leave you together! You'll plead my cause, won't you?--and pitch it strong, won't you? I shall be all anxiety to know the result--because if _she_ won't have me, I can fall back on the other. Don't you see? (_shaking BARTON'S hand, and runs out at C._).

BART. (_aside, and looking at JULIA_). To have to plead the cause of another, when, in spite of me, her presence _will_ recall the past, painful, humiliating as it is!

JULIA (_with indifference_). Your friend has left you, Mr. Barton?

BART. He has, _Miss Templeton;_ but he has left an advocate to intercede with you on his behalf.

JULIA (_satirically_). A willing and an earnest one, no doubt, who probably has already furnished him with a detailed catalogue of my tastes, habits, pursuits, disposition--

BART. (_aside_). He's been blabbing! (_Aloud._) Surely he cannot have betrayed my confidence?

JULIA (_with suppressed anger_). The charge of "betrayal of confidence" should rather be levelled at one who by his intimacy with a family, into which he is admitted on terms of friendship, is enabled to study the characters of its members for the purpose of retailing the result of his observations to others!

BART. I will not affect to misunderstand your reproof. It is true that I spoke of you to Mr. Royston in terms which you fully merit--that I even told him your heart was free.

JULIA. Perfectly, absolutely free! You undertook to be his advocate with such zeal, such earnestness, one might almost imagine you had some personal interest.

BART. And what if I _had_ an interest--a _powerful_ interest?

JULIA (_quickly_). Indeed?

BART. Yes. And after the somewhat harsh rejection I met with at your hands--which, no doubt, I fully merited--what greater proof can I give of the esteem in which I still hold you than to confide my secret to you?

JULIA (_starting_). A secret? (_Aside._) What can he mean?

BART. That, on the eve of leaving your family, I should feel far less regret could I but indulge in the hope of ever becoming connected with it by a closer tie.

JULIA (_aside, and joyfully_). Can it be? Has he forgotten--forgiven? Can he still care for me? (_Aloud._) But why this silence--this want of confidence in me?

BART. Frankly, because we feared you would oppose our wishes, our hopes.

JULIA (_eagerly_). _Our_ hopes? _We_ feared?

BART. Yes! She especially.

JULIA. _She?_ Of whom are you speaking? Her name?

BART. Surely I must have mentioned it? Your sister.

JULIA (_starting from her chair_). Josephine!

BART. Yes; rejected by her elder sister, I sought and found solace and consolation in her goodness and sympathy.

JULIA (_with increasing anger_). So! Your frequent visits, your constant presence here, apparently so inconsistent with your "wounded feelings" (_satirically_), are now explained! It was for _her!_ And _I_ was to be kept in ignorance--to fancy, to believe, to hope--

BART. (_surprised_). Miss Templeton!

JULIA. I now understand this anxiety to dispose of my hand--this crowd of admirers thrown in my way! What mattered _my_ feelings--_my_ happiness? I was an obstacle to be removed! (_with increasing excitement_).

BART. I implore you--

JULIA (_stamping her foot_). Silence, sir!

_Enter MRS. TEMPLETON hurriedly at R. H._

MRS. T. What is the matter here? Julia! what means this excitement--this agitation? Perhaps you, sir (_to BARTON_)--

BART. I am as much surprised as yourself, madam! I ventured to confide to Miss Julia my pretensions to the hand of her sister--

MRS. T. (_with a scream_). What! You had the _cruelty,_ the _barbarity_ to make such an avowal to her elder sister? (_advancing upon BARTON, who retreats_)--to lacerate her feelings! to wound her pride!

JULIA. Yes, that's it!--to wound my pride!

BART. But really--

MRS. T. Silence, young man! I remember what _my_ feelings were when my younger sister was married before me. I was choking, sir! suffocating, sir! I turned positively purple! all sorts of colors, sir! And here is a little pert, forward chit, daring to follow her Aunt Dorothy Jane's example!--but here she comes. (_Enter COLONEL from R. H., and JOSEPHINE from L. H._) So, miss (_advancing angrily on JOSEPHINE_), a pretty account I've heard of you! To mix yourself up at _your_ age in a silly romance--a nonsensical love-intrigue--

COL. (_interfering_). But, my dear Martha--

MRS. T. (_turning sharply on him_). Hold _your_ tongue, Cousin Samuel!

JOSEPHINE. But, aunt, if you'll only allow me--

MRS. T. But I _won't_ allow you! (_To JULIA._) Keep up your spirits, poor persecuted victim!

JOSEPHINE. Victim? It seems to me that _I'm_ the victim! Just as I thought I was going to be married and settled! (_beginning to sob; COLONEL tries to pacify her_).

MRS. T. Married and settled, indeed! A child--a baby like you! (_To BARTON._) After what has occurred, sir, you will see that your further presence under this roof--

BART. (_bowing_). I fully understand, madam!

MRS. T. (_to JOSEPHINE_). Come, miss, follow me! (_JOSEPHINE about to speak._) Not a word! It is for _me_ to speak, as you'll find I intend to do, and to some purpose. This way! (_making JOSEPHINE pass before her; she and JULIA follow her out at R. H._).

COL. Wheugh! here's a pretty piece of business!

BART. Not satisfied with rejecting me herself, she carries her prejudice, her hate so far as to--

COL. Hate? nonsense! (_Suddenly._) By Jove! I have it!--at least I think I have. What if she should feel a "sneaking kindness" for you, after all?

BART. Pshaw!

COL. But what about friend Royston?

BART. Hang friend Royston!

COL. With all my heart; but where the deuce is he?

BART. Waiting somewhere or other to hear the result of my interview with Miss Templeton.

COL. In which you undertook to plead his cause--eh?

BART. Yes; and forgot all about it in my anxiety to plead my own!

COL. What's that? Do you mean to say you confided to her the secret between you and Josephine?

BART. Yes; trusting in her generous nature and her sisterly affection, I certainly _did!_

COL. And a pretty mess you've made of it! Well, I must find Royston and let him know. As for you, as you've received orders to march, the sooner you pack up and pack off the better! (_hurries out at C._).

(_Door at R. H. opens, and JOSEPHINE peeps in._)

JOSEPHINE. Harry! Are you alone?--quite alone? (_hurries forward_).

BART. Yes. What is it?

JOSEPHINE. Such a discovery! (_in a very mysterious tone_). She's got one!

BART. She? Who?

JOSEPHINE. Julia!

BART. Got one? Got what?

JOSEPHINE. A young man! shut up in a box!

BART. In a box?

JOSEPHINE. Listen. After being well scolded by Aunt Martha, I followed Julia to her room. There she was, with a little open box before her, out of which she took something, looked at it, then pressed her lips to it, and gave such a sigh!--you might have heard it here! perhaps you did?

BART. Well?

JOSEPHINE. Then aunt called her, and she hurried out of the room, leaving the box on the table; and then--then--somehow or other--here it is! (_producing a small casket_). It looks as if there was a young man inside--I mean a portrait--doesn't it?

BART. You've not opened it? (_eagerly_).

JOSEPHINE. No! That's for Aunt Martha to do!

BART. Surely you would not betray your sister's secret--perhaps her happiness?

JOSEPHINE. Much she cared about _mine,_ didn't she? Aunt Martha must and shall see it! (_going; BARTON stops her, the box falls on stage and opens_). There! there! how clumsy you are!

BART. (_picks up the box, and then suddenly starting_). What do I see?

JOSEPHINE. That's what I want to know! It _is_ a portrait, isn't it?

BART. (_confused_). Yes!--no! a mere fancy sketch, nothing more! (_taking miniature from box, and hastily concealing it in his breast-pocket_). Be persuaded by me! replace the box where you found it! (_giving box to her_).

JOSEPHINE. Mayn't I take just one little peep?--not that I've an atom of curiosity!

BART. No, no!

JOSEPHINE. Well, if you insist on it.

BART. I do not _insist,_ I beg, _implore_ of you.

JOSEPHINE. Very well! (_hurries out at R. H._).

BART. (_watching her out, then taking miniature out and looking at it_). My portrait! and what is written here? (_Reading._) "From memory." What am I to think? Can I dare to hope that her indifference was assumed--that she ever loved me--that she loves me still? Can such happiness be mine? Dear, dear Julia. But zounds! what about Josephine? Poor little girl! I can't marry them both! What--what is to be done? (_walking up and down_). Will anybody tell me what's to be done?

_Enter ROYSTON hurriedly at C._

ROYS. (_coming down_). Oh, here you are! I couldn't wait any longer! (_following BARTON up and down_).

BART. (_impatiently_). Don't worry! don't bother!

ROYS. (_astonished_). Bother! when I want to thank you for introducing me to this charming, amiable family, and to tell you I don't despair of becoming one of it!

BART. What?

ROYS. In a word, I'm in love! There's no mistake about it! Over head and ears in love!

BART. What, sir? you persist in carrying on this absurd, ridiculous joke?

ROYS. Joke?

BART. Yes, sir; I beg to tell you I'll not allow, I'll not permit you to annoy poor dear Julia--I mean Miss Templeton--with your unwelcome attentions, sir--your absurd importunities, sir?

ROYS. Miss Templeton? My dear fellow, she's nothing whatever to do with it! It's the other! the little one!

BART. (_joyfully_). Josephine?

ROYS. Yes.

BART. My dear fellow! Come to my arms! (_throwing his arms about ROYSTON, who struggles_). I congratulate you! I give you joy! Such a sweet, charming, amiable creature, brimful of talent, overflowing with tenderness. Come to my arms again! (_embracing ROYSTON again_).

ROYS. Then you'll speak for me--eh?

BART. Speak for yourself--here she comes.

_Enter JOSEPHINE hurriedly at R._

JOSEPHINE (_stopping on seeing ROYSTON_). Mr. Royston.

BART. (_aside to ROYSTON_). Now, then, speak out! don't be afraid! put on a sentimental look.

ROYS. (_assuming a very lackadaisical look_). This sort of thing! (_Aloud._) Miss Josephine--I--I-- (_Aside._) It's very awkward! if I only knew how to begin.

BART. (_aside to him_). Go on!

ROYS. Pardon my frankness, but it has been impossible for me to find myself in your charming society without being captivated--enchanted--by your fascinations, your--

JOSEPHINE (_surprised_). I thought it was my sister who--

ROYS. So it was! but she wouldn't have me! that's why I--

BART. (_hastily aside to him_). No! that won't do!

ROYS. (_shouting_). No! that won't do!

JOSEPHINE. (_still more astonished_). And you don't hesitate to address me in this language before-- (_pointing to BARTON_).

ROYS. Before my friend--my bosom friend--that I went to school with at Bagnigge Wells? Why should I? It is he who encourages me--who tells me to "go on." You told me to "go on," didn't you?

JOSEPHINE (_with intention, and looking at BARTON_). But has it never occurred to you that you might have a rival?

ROYS. So much the better! I should make it my immediate business to sweep him off the face of the earth!

JOSEPHINE (_to BARTON, in a sarcastic tone_). And you, sir! you can listen with perfect calmness, indifference! Have _you_ nothing to say?

ROYS. Yes! Have _you_ nothing?--

BART. (_aside to him_). Hold _your_ tongue! (_Aloud, and with affected solemnity._) Ah! who can anticipate events? How little do we know what a few hours may bring forth!

ROYS. Yes! how little do we know!--

BART. (_aside to him again_). Hold your tongue! (_Aloud._) In a word, what if circumstances compel me to leave England for a considerable time?

JOSEPHINE. A considerable time?

BART. Yes; for two years at least--possibly more!

JOSEPHINE. Two or three years?

BART. Could I venture to hope that you would submit to such a tax on your goodness--your patience?

JOSEPHINE (_very quickly_). I should think not, indeed!

BART. (_aside_). She doesn't love me! Huzza! (_Aloud._) What course is, then, open to me? One--only one: to sacrifice myself to the happiness of my friend!

ROYS. (_grasping his hand_). Glorious creature!

JOSEPHINE. But what about your _own_ happiness? It isn't likely you could give me up so quietly without some _other_ reason--some _other_ motive!

BART. I have _another_ motive, which for your sister's sake you will respect! In a word, that portrait--

JOSEPHINE. In Julia's box? Yes. Well?

BART. Was _mine!_ See! (_taking out portrait and showing it_).

JOSEPHINE (_exclaiming_). Yours? It is!

ROYS. Yours? It is! (_bewildered_).

JOSEPHINE. Then--then _you_ are her young man, after all?

ROYS. Yes. You are her young man--

JOSEPHINE. Of course; now I understand. Now I see it all.

ROYS. So do I! No, I don't! At least, not _quite._

_Enter COLONEL hurriedly at C._

COL. (_singing as he comes in_). "See, the conquering hero comes." Victory! victory! Everything's settled; and now, my dear young friends (_shaking BARTON'S and JOSEPHINE'S hands_), you can get married as soon as you like.

JOSEPHINE. } } BART. } (_together_). Married? } ROYS. }

COL. Yes! I had a devil of a fight for it, but I've carried the day! Aunt Martha consents, Julia consents, everybody consents!

ROYS. I beg your pardon! _I_ don't! (_Shouting_). I forbid the banns!

_Enter MRS. TEMPLETON, followed by JULIA, at R. H._

JULIA (_aside, as she sees BARTON_). Still here!

JOSEPHINE. So, Aunt Martha, you've given your consent? And you, too, Julia?

JULIA (_endeavoring to conceal her emotion_). Yes, Josephine, willingly, gladly! Can I be indifferent to your happiness? (_smiling sadly_).

JOSEPHINE (_aside_). How bravely she bears herself! (_Aloud._) And yet, just now, you were so indignant, so angry with me?

JULIA. A momentary caprice, an unworthy jealousy!--but no more of that. Kiss me, dear sister! (_kissing JOSEPHINE and moving away_).

JOSEPHINE (_aside_). A tear? But you won't suffer long, poor dear martyr! (_Suddenly bursting into loud laughter._) Ha! ha! ha! (_Aside to COLONEL._) Laugh!

COL. (_forcing laugh_). Ha! ha! ha! (_Aside._) Laugh!

ROYS. (_very loud_). Ha! ha! ha! (_Aside._) I don't know what I'm laughing about.

MRS. T. What _is_ the matter?

JOSEPHINE (_laughing again_). Ha! ha! ha! You don't mean to say you've all been taken in? Did you think we were in earnest all the time? Ha! ha! ha! (_Aside to COLONEL._) Laugh!

COL. Ha! ha! ha!

ROYS. (_very loud_). Ha! ha! ha!

MRS. T. (_impatiently_). Josephine, I insist on your explaining this extraordinary behavior instantly!

JOSEPHINE. Nothing so simple. (_To COLONEL and BARTON._) There's no necessity for our carrying on this innocent little _jest_ any longer, is there?

MRS. T. Jest?

JOSEPHINE. Yes; this harmless conspiracy to make everybody happy! Julia dear, it was to test your love for me that I pretended to be so very anxious to get married, which I wasn't the least little bit in the world (_with a sly look at ROYSTON_). I mean I wasn't _then!_ My fellow-conspirator, Mr. Barton, fearing that your rejection of him might proceed from a preference for another, joined in the plot, but very unwillingly, for it is you, Julia, you alone, that he has ever loved; you alone that he loves still!

MRS. T. What is it I hear?

BART. The truth, madam! (_To JULIA._) May I hope, or must I endure a second refusal!

JULIA (_tenderly_). I suffered too much from the first, Harry (_giving her hand to BARTON_).

ROYS. (_aside_). That's _one_ couple; but there's room for another. (_To MRS. TEMPLETON._) Madam, I have the honor to solicit the hand of your younger niece, Miss Josephine!

MRS. T. With all my heart, Mr. Royston; that is, unless Josephine objects.

JOSEPHINE (_quickly_). But she doesn't! (_giving her hand to ROYSTON_).

BART. You see, Jonathan will be satisfied, after all.

ROYS. Yes. But poor Sophia (_sighing_).

BART. Hush! (_Aside to JULIA, and slipping the portrait into her hand._) You'll put this portrait back in its place.

JOSEPHINE. She won't care to look at it, now that she's got the _original._

THE CURTAIN FALLS.

PEPPERPOT'S LITTLE PETS!

_In One Act._

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

JACK PEPPERPOT, late H. M. 147th Foot.

DOCTOR JACOBUS JOGTROT.

MR. CHRISTOPHER CHIRPER.

STEPHEN BLUNT.

MRS. TARLETAN.

JESSIE (her niece).

MARTHA (a servant).

SCENE.--Mrs. Tarletan's Villa at Hampstead.

_Elegantly furnished room at MRS. TARLETAN'S villa. French windows at back showing garden beyond; doors R. H. 3 E. and L.; fireplace at L. H. 2 E.; table, chairs, sofa, etc. MARTHA discovered arranging furniture, etc._ (_bell heard without_).

MARTHA. There's the gate bell beginning. Butcher for orders, I suppose. (_Bell heard again._) I thought so; he's the most impatient young man I ever came across! Asked me if I'd marry him only yesterday morning when he called for orders, and was quite saucy because I hadn't made up my mind when he brought the meat! I must go and ask missus. (_Exit door R. JACK PEPPERPOT is seen to cross at back beyond the French windows; looks cautiously in at C._).

JACK. No one to be seen; so much the better. (_Calling off._) Now then, Blunt, come along! take care how you turn the corner; that'll do. (_Enters at C., walking backward, closely followed by STEPHEN BLUNT, in an undress military jacket and cap, carrying a box covered with Chinese characters._) Left wheel! halt. (_Takes box carefully from BLUNT and places it on small table--opens lid._) Nothing broken, I hope. No; I don't even see a chip!

BLUNT. That's a wonder, too, your honor! cups and saucers is rather a delicate sort of cargo to bring all the way from China.

JACK (_looking at watch_). Nine o'clock! I wonder if my dear, excellent old aunt is still indulging in a horizontal position? We reached town so late last night, I was afraid to disturb the dear old soul. (_Looking round him._) Blunt, it strikes me we shall find our quarters here very comfortable--eh? (_falling into chair and stretching out his legs_).

BLUNT. I think so too, your honor (_imitating JACK, then jumping up again and saluting_). Beg pardon, your honor! but when you say our quarters--

JACK. I _mean_ our quarters! You wouldn't think of leaving me, you brute, would you? Haven't we spent the last ten years of our lives together--more or less respectably?--and if I _have_ got back to Old England again, sound in wind and limb, who have I to thank? who but you, you fine faithful old dog you (_laying his hand on BLUNT'S shoulder_).

BLUNT (_deprecatingly_). Oh! oh!

JACK. If _you_ forget a certain sabre cut I received at the Alma, _I_ don't.

BLUNT. Oh! oh! just a little bit of a scratch.

JACK. Exactly; a little bit of a scratch that began at the top of my head and finished at the tip of my nose! I was lying on my back faint and sick, when a noble, lion-hearted fellow cut his way through the Russian cavalry at the risk of his life, the idiot, threw me across his horse, and saved me! That noble, lion-hearted idiot was Stephen Blunt--bless him! But enough of the past! By-the-bye, Blunt, as long as you are stationed here you must make it a point of finding everybody and everything about you charming, delightful--in short, first chop!

BLUNT (_touching his cap_). All right, your honor!

MRS. TARLETAN (_heard without_). If I am wanted, Martha, you'll find me in the garden.

JACK. Here comes my aunt; beat a retreat--quick, anywhere.

[_BLUNT hurries out at L. H._

_Enter MRS. TARLETAN at R._

MRS. T. (_seeing JACK_). A stranger?

JACK (_smiling_). Not quite. (_Going to her._) Don't you know me, _aunt?_

MRS. T. Eh? (_Suddenly._) Jack dear, dear boy! (_JACK clasps her in his arms_). Kiss me again, Jack.

JACK. Again and again till you tell me to leave off (_kissing her again_).

MRS. T. Let me look at you (_holding his head between her hands_). It is ten long years since I have seen you, my darling boy: and has it come back from China, a dear?

JACK. It has--all the way!

MRS. T. (_pulling his cheek affectionately_). And is it glad to get home?

JACK. Is it? _ain't_ it? Ah! after knocking about the world for ten years, you don't know how happy a fellow feels in getting back to his aunt and having his cheeks pulled about. By-the-bye, aunt, what d'ye think?--what with my prize-money, the sale of my commission, and one thing and the other, I find I've managed to scrape together a matter of £10,000.

MRS. T. Ten thousand? that's a large sum of money, my dear.

JACK. An awful lot, isn't it? the puzzle is, what I'm to do with it.

MRS. T. My advice is, invest in land; they say "Stick to the land, and the land will stick to you."

JACK. I know _mud_ will--at least it did in the Crimea.

MRS. T. My dear Jack, do be serious! Now that you are worth £500 a year--

JACK. Five hundred a year! I shall never spend the half of it.

MRS. T. Then get a _wife_ to help you.

JACK. A wife! me? what for?--why, my dear aunt, here are no end of clever people complaining of the over-population of the country, and you want me to-- (_Shaking his head._) No, no!

MRS. T. Well, well, we'll say no more about it; though it's a pity--a great pity!

JACK. A pity! what do you mean?

MRS. T. Nothing! a fancy, a dream of mine--that's all.

(_JESSIE is heard singing a snatch of a song without--runs in from R. H._)

JESSIE (_running to MRS. TARLETAN and kissing her_). Good-morning, aunty dear. (_Suddenly, seeing JACK._) A stranger! Really, sir--I--I-- (_Courtesying._)

JACK (_bowing to JESSIE_). So do I, I'm sure, miss! very much indeed.

MRS. T. (_smiling_). "Sir" and "miss?" Why, Jack, have you forgotten Jessie?

JACK. Eh? what? little Jessie!

JESSIE. Cousin Jack!

JACK (_taking both JESSIE'S hands_). Dear, dear, when I remember what a tiny little mite you were ten years ago! about so high! (_measuring about a foot_). Why, I used to teach you A B C, didn't I? And now I suppose you're quite an accomplished young lady?

JESSIE. Tolerably so, I hope, cousin.

JACK. Then you deserve a prize; and here it is (_opening box on table, takes out a fan and presents it to JESSIE_). The reward of merit.

JESSIE. Oh, what a beautiful Chinese fan! Oh, thank you, cousin!

JACK. And perhaps our good aunt will give us our tea tonight out of her new porcelain service (_showing contents of box_).