ACT II.

SCENE.--_The Vicarage kitchen, according to plan._

TIME.--_Evening._

(_As curtain rises_ COOK _takes salmon to larder_ R. U. E. _and returns to table down_ L. _with fruit salad_; GANDY _enters with butler's tray; crosses to_ R. _of table_; KEZIAH _enters and takes ham to larder and returns to dresser_.)

GAN. Sweets, Cook!

CAR. Quite ready! (_clearing tray of chicken dish and plates_) They seem to have taken very kindly to the stuffed fowls.

GAN. Oh, horful! There's 'ardly a gizzard left for hus to make a supper of. Dorvaston's the worst.

KEZ. (_at dresser_) Oh, and master too. (_takes plates_) I thought he'd 'ave bust 'imself--I did reelly. (_crosses to top of_ GANDY, _places plates on butler's tray_)

GAN. They told me to look sharp. It's wonderful they don't want a rest. (CAROLINE _holds up dish of fruit salad_; GANDY _takes dish in both hands admiringly; then lets_ COOK _put it on tray_) So that's it, Cook? It looks lovely.

CAR. Glad you like it.

GAN. (_takes up tray_) It ain't no good _me_ likin' it, I shan't get none--they'll see to that. (_moves to_ R. KEZIAH _moves to follow him_) Keziah, don't you come. You'll never wait at table--your mind can't rise above 'anding bread when nobody wants it. (_she returns to top of table; he carries tray to door_ R., _then pauses_) It _do_ look lovely. Let's pray to 'eaven they don't eat it all. (_he goes out_; COOK _crosses to larder with chicken and back round top down to_ L.)

KEZ. (_at top of table clearing_) Gandy's a bit narked to-night. (_rubs knives with a piece of rag_) When there's a bit of anythink extra for supper, 'e does grodge it to 'em, don't 'e? Now with me it's, as you may say, different. If any trifle takes me fancy--such as a breast of chicken--or what not--while it's bein' carved I simply turn me 'ead away.

CAR. (L. _of table arranging plates_) Take these plates into the scullery.

KEZ. Yus, Cook. Not as it always answers. (COOK _crosses to larder with salad dish_) I wes 'anding that sauce stuff--I forgot what you call it, Cook----

CAR. Mayonnaise. (_at larder; crosses back to_ L. _of table and begins to put radishes in bowl into glass dish_)

KEZ. Yus, Cook, that was it--in a butter boat. Well, I was 'anding it to old Madam as the Captain cut himself off--oh, such a slice of 'am--I dote on 'am, I do, reelly. Well, I had to shet me eyes, and just then Gandy hustled me with 'is elbow, and me wrist turned, as you may say, sudden like, and I upset the myanneasy on to milady's gown. She did talk to me a treat. (_takes fish plates to scullery_; GANDY _enters hastily, stands_ C.)

GAN. Now then, Keziah, one claret glass short. That's your silly fault. (KEZIAH _crosses to dresser, gets glass and hands it to_ GANDY R.; _then returns to dresser for plates_)

CAR. Do they seem to fancy the fruit salad?

GAN. Fancy it! Dorvaston and the governor are both in their second 'elpings. It's 'ideous to see 'em--'ideaous!

KEZ. (_at dresser_) I shall be awful late with me washin' up. (_crosses to window with plates_) I shall miss a good 'alf of it.

CAR. (_crosses to larder for cheese_) I'll wash the glass and silver for you.

KEZ. (_crosses to top of table and takes chicken plates to scullery, leaving four forks on table_) That's wonderful good of you, Cook; it is reelly. D'you know I'm in two minds which 'at to wear.

CAR. Are you? (_crosses from larder to table_ R. _with cheese, places it at top of table_)

KEZ. (_fingering top of chair_ L.) The straw's tasty; but the large 'at with the flowers is more dressy like.

CAR. I wouldn't wear the large one with the flowers. (_returning to larder for butter_)

KEZ. Wouldn't you now?

CAR. (_stops on her way to larder_ C.) It might have been made in the Old Kent Road.

KEZ. Might it, now? Is that in London? (_sits_ L.)

CAR. Yes. (_crosses to_ R. _of table with butter, and stands at the head_)

KEZ. At the shop where I bought it, they told me as it was copied from a London pattern, so I dessay you're right, Cook. Well, I could wear the straw, but--(GANDY _enters with tray_--KEZIAH _rises, crosses to window ledge for cheese plates_)

GAN. (_speaking sadly_) Now then, cheese--cheese. (COOK _is at top of table clearing butler's tray_)

CAR. I see they've finished the fruit salad.

GAN. Finished it! Of course they've finished it. It's 'eartbreakin'. Put the dish away, and let me try to forget it.

KEZ. (_comes down to table_ L.) 'As the Governor still bin goin' it? (_putting cheese plates on butler's tray_; COOK _places cheese and butter on butler's tray_)

GAN. I should think 'e 'ad. Ah! and it will pay 'im out. This night's work'll lie 'eavy on 'im. I know 'is constitooshon. Ready, Cook! A bit of that cheddar all round ought to just settle 'em. (COOK _takes fruit dish to larder_, KEZIAH _crosses to top of table, and puts radishes on butler's tray_. GANDY _hurries out_.)

KEZ. As I was sayin', Cook, (_calls_) as I was sayin' I could wear the straw, only I'm wishful to look me best, cos the young gentleman as I'm walkin' out with at present'll be there.

CAR. Oh! (_crosses to_ R. _of table, takes cloth out of drawer, and back to_ C.)

KEZ. We shan't be able to sit together, cos of old Madam--"I don't allow no followers," she said when I come after the place--"I don't allow no followers"--You know 'er sniffy way? (KEZIAH _takes plates to scullery, leaving spoons on table_)

CAR. (_puts cloth on table, crosses to mantel and gets matches off bracket_) What does your young gentleman do when he isn't following?

KEZ. Didn't I tell you? (_comes back to table_) 'E's at Bilkins, (_sits on table_ R.) the pork butchers. You remember that pound of sausages that came from me aunt at Cambridge? (COOK _nods_) That was 'im--'e began with sausages--(COOK _lights gas over stove_ L.) next comes along a photograph frame, last week _pig's feet_ and a _shell pin-cushion_. 'E's free 'anded, as you may say.

CAR. He must be. (_crosses to_ R.)

KEZ. Won't you be feelin' lonesome (COOK _lights gas_ R. _and leaves match-box on dresser_) this evenin'? All of us out--and Gandy goin' to see 'is mother. She lives two stations down the line and used to take in washin'.

CAR. No, I don't fancy I shall feel lonesome.

KEZ. I'll (_jumps off table, comes round and sits on chair_ R. _and gets book out of drawer_) lend you my girl's "Special Monthly Journal." There's a most _interestin'_ tale in this number. It's in 'ere. There's an _'url_ and 'e goes ridin' through a wood and 'e's all dressed up in armour, you know--just like the dish covers. (COOK _crosses to window, gets knife basket and comes down to top of table_) I say, Cook, when you lived in London did _you_ ever see any 'urls?

CAR. One or two.

KEZ. And do they dress themselves up like that?

CAR. Not as a rule. (_cleaning spoons and putting them in basket_)

KEZ. My word, I wish I'd bin born a toff! They must find life come easy.

CAR. (_at top of table_) Not always. Trouble is like a postman--sooner or later he knocks at _every_ door.

KEZ. Why, they can eat and drink just what they like.

CAR. No. After a time their doctors have a word to say.

KEZ. And they can wear just what suits 'em.

CAR. They wear whatever their dressmakers and tailors tell them to wear--whether it suits them or not. It generally doesn't.

KEZ. Any'ow they don't 'ave to pay for their breakages.

CAR. In the long run they pay just as heavily for their breakages as you do for yours. (_crosses and replaces basket on window ledge and comes down_ L.)

KEZ. My word! Think of that now! (GANDY _enters and puts down tray on table_; KEZIAH _jumps up and crosses to head of table_)

GAN. That's over. (_sits_) I'm fair sick of it. The governor is rushin' on to 'is fate. (COOK _takes off the bread, cheese and glasses and puts them on lower end of table_; KEZIAH _takes up cheese plates, knives, butter and radish dish, leaving the syphon, decanter of whiskey and one glass till the last_) Took radishes with 'is cheese. (KEZIAH _looks horrified_) Keziah, I have brought out the Captain's whiskey and syphon--I shan't be 'ere to-night, so you must take 'em up to 'is room the last thing, d'ye 'ear?

KEZ. I 'ear. (_she takes whiskey, soda, and glass to window ledge_)

GAN. I've done most of the clearin' away. (COOK _takes cheese to larder_)

CAR. (_to_ KEZIAH) Bring me the bowl, Keziah, and then you can put your things on. (KEZIAH _crosses to table, takes butler's tray and places it against wall above meat jack, then goes to scullery for bowl. To_ GANDY, _coming out of larder and crossing_ L.) Will you have your supper now? (KEZIAH _brings hot water to top of table; then takes glass radish dish and butter dish into larder_)

GAN. No, thank'ee. They've put me off it. I shall try to pick a bit by and bye when I get to mother's.

CAR. (_to_ GANDY) Is your mother a good cook? (L. _of table_)

GAN. No, she ain't; far from it! 'Er jints are flabby, and 'er pie crust is h'ashfelt.

KEZ. (_coming out of larder_) Is there anything more, Cook, as I can do?

CAR. No, thanks. (COOK _takes plates into scullery_)

KEZ. Good night, Gandy. (_crosses to door_ R.)

GAN. Not so much Gandy! _Mr._ Gandy would do you more credit, and might lead to a cap ribbon at Christmas. (COOK _comes out of scullery, takes large radish bowl and re-enters scullery_) It's 'ard on a respectable man to mix with such riff-raff.

KEZ. Riff-raff your own self. Why, for two pins--I'd----

CAR. Keziah! (_at scullery door, crosses_ L. _again_)

KEZ. (_meekly_) Yus, Cook! (C.)

CAR. Go and dress.

KEZ. Yus, Cook; I'm sorry as I spoke hasty before you.

CAR. Very well, go along; you'll be late.

KEZ. Yus, Cook. (_she goes quietly to door_ R., _then turns and speaks very respectfully_) Good-night, Mr. Gandy. (_she then goes out_)

GAN. (COOK _takes bread to larder top way and returns round top_ L.) That's the worst of domestic service--one 'as to put up with the cheek of h'underlings. It ain't a fit life for such as h'us--we're a good many cuts above it. (_he rises_) Well, Cook, I shall 'ave to change my coat, so if you will excuse me----

CAR. Certainly! (_washing glasses_)

GAN. But before I go to-night, I should like 'alf a word with you about a little matter which 'as bin floatin' on the top of my mind for this month past.

CAR. Won't it keep?

GAN. No, it won't--not if you was to put it in the refrigerator.

CAR. People change their minds sometimes.

GAN. I shan't change my mind.

CAR. Well, change your coat, or you'll miss your train. (_he moves towards the door, as he does so_ LUCY _enters dressed for the evening, but with cloak on_)

LUCY. Cook! I've come for my orchid. (_crosses to_ C.)

CAR. I'll fetch it. (_crosses to window_; LUCY _crosses to chair_ R. _of table_)

LUCY. Gandy, I thought you were going to see your mother to-night.

GAN. So I h'am, miss--I am just h'off. (_goes out_ R.)

CAR. Here it is. (_crosses down_ R. _of_ LUCY)

LUCY. Thanks!

CAR. Shall I pin it in?

LUCY. Thanks! (COOK _arranges the flower_)

CAR. What time to-morrow do you take the plunge?

LUCY. Oh, quite early in the morning, before anybody is up. Mr. Thorsby will fetch me.

CAR. I see.

LUCY. Why did you want to know?

CAR. So that I should think of you and wish you luck.

LUCY. I don't see what reason you have to wish me luck.

CAR. You're a nice child--and I was always fond of children.

(DORVASTON _comes in--he is in evening dress with light overcoat and carries a small music-case--he doesn't see_ LUCY _at first_.)

DOR. I say, Cook, I--ah! (COOK _backs and he sees_ LUCY) I--hulloa, Lucy!

LUCY. Well, Jack, what do _you_ want? (COOK _retires round top of table down_ L. _and resumes her glass-washing_)

DOR. I--ah--I--wanted--to--er--(_seeing orchid_) Of course, I came to fetch your orchid.

LUCY. You needn't have troubled. (_looks at_ COOK) I fetched it myself.

DOR. Didn't know, don't you know!

LUCY. Have you got my music?

DOR. Got it here. (_showing music-case_)

LUCY. That's right. Is Auntie ready?

DOR. Fancy she's waiting in the hall. (_crosses to_ R.)

LUCY. Oh! then I must go. (_crosses to_ R.) Good-night, Cook. Thanks for taking care of the flower.

CAR. Not at all! Good-night!

LUCY. (_turning at door_) Are you coming, Jack?

DOR. In a second. Thought perhaps Cook would give me a light. (_takes out cigar case_)

LUCY. Very well, we'll go on. You can catch us up. You needn't hurry. (_she goes out door_ R.)

DOR. (_holding cigar_) May I?

CAR. There's a box of matches on the dresser. (DORVASTON _crosses to dresser for matches, lights his cigar. She washes glass and silver_)

DOR. (_crosses to top of table_) This is a devilish snug kitchen. D'you know, I'd much rather stop here--and watch you doing--whatever you are doing--what _are_ you doing?

CAR. Washing up. (_washing glasses_)

DOR. Are you, by George? Washing up, now. How is that generally done? (_at top of table_)

CAR. With water and a tea-cloth.

DOR. It must be an awful fag. When it comes to work, seems to me you women beat us hollow.

CAR. You have your drill--and parade--and fighting, too, in these days.

DOR. Fighting ain't work--it's fun.

CAR. Each to his trade! I prefer cooking and washing up. (_they both laugh_) Oughtn't you to go?

DOR. Yes, I'll get along. I say, you haven't forgotten--nine-thirty?

CAR. No, but I was hoping you had.

DOR. Upon my soul, what I want to say won't take ten minutes. Hulloa! cigar's out. I'll just light up again, you don't mind? (_he goes to dresser for matches._ PILLENGER _looks in at window_)

PIL. Cook!

CAR. Yes!

PIL. I just wished to say one word. (_he comes in at the back door_) I wish (_closes door, takes off hat, and sees_ DORVASTON, _who has turned at the moment_) Tut!--dear me!

DOR. Hulloa, sir!

PIL. I imagined you had accompanied my sister and Lucy. They have started.

DOR. Came in here to fetch the orchid!

PIL. What orchid?

DOR. The orchid--and I hadn't a match--and Lucy had got it already, don't you see--so Cook gave me one--and--that's how it was, don't you know.

PIL. Cook gave you an orchid?

DOR. No, a light.

PIL. Then why allude to an orchid? However, it is quite immaterial.

CAR. You said you wished to speak to me, Mr. Pillenger!

PIL. (_coming a little to her_) I desired to express my approval--my warm approval--of the excellent meal you gave us this evening; but I fear I have not sufficient time to do justice to the theme.

DOR. (R.) By George, sir, you did justice to the fruit salad?

PIL. Very possibly, Captain Dorvaston, but I may remind you that your own appreciation assumed a very practical form.

CAR. Won't you both be rather late? (_they both look at each other and then go up to the door_)

PIL. (_turning at garden door_) I fear we shall. I may have to return early--I am conscious of the approach of a headache.

DOR. Deuced odd thing! I feel a bit off colour--doubt if I shall manage to see it through.

PIL. Tut, tut! you look singularly well! Merely fancy, I'm sure. (_opens door_) Good-night, Cook!

CAR. Good-night! (PILLENGER _goes out at back door_)

DOR. (_following_) Good-night, Cook!

CAR. Good-night!

DOR. (_turning at door and speaking in whisper_) Nine-thirty! (COOK _nods--he goes out. After a second_ MR. PILLENGER _puts his head in at the window_)

PIL. Cook! you remember our appointment? Nine o'clock.

DOR. (_in the distance_) Are you coming, sir?

PIL. (_to_ DORVASTON) Yes--in one moment! (_to_ COOK) Nine! you quite understand?

CAR. (_calmly_) Quite!

PIL. Thank you. I thought I would just recall it to your memory. I'm coming, Captain Dorvaston! (_he goes_; COOK _continues her work_; GANDY _enters_ R., _is crossing to door, stops, comes to top of table_ R.; _he has changed his dress and carries a small hand-bag; he puts this down and his hat, and hastily consults silver watch_)

GAN. Cook, I'm a leetle pressed for time--but I find I've just got three minutes and a 'alf to waste.

CAR. Well, what is it? (_washing glasses_ L.)

GAN. I'll come straight to the pint. I've saved money--I'm sick of service, and I want to settle down. I know of a eatin' 'ouse to be 'ad--good situation--terms moderate--part cash down--remainder in monthly instalments. Will you marry me and take over the kitchen department?

CAR. No.

GAN. (COOK _crosses to oven and kneels and opens it_) Don't be 'asty now. We should crush all local competition. Think it over careful. (_looks at his watch again_) I can give you a minute and a 'alf. I'm a staid respectable man, and I want a staid respectable wife.

CAR. (_kneeling at oven_ L., _looks over her shoulder_) And do I strike you in that light?

GAN. You do.

CAR. That is a very unexpected compliment. (_rises, places cake on table_ L.)

GAN. (_comes down to chair_ R.) Yes, Cook; since I met you I've come to see there's things in life as I didn't suspect. (COOK _stops work_) You've showed me the superiority of braized beef over biled beef--you've rewealed the difference between 'aricot and 'ash--before you came apple fritters was to me a mere flash in the frying pan. (_suddenly stopping and looking at his watch_) Now I wouldn't 'urry you, but time's on the move. 'Ow's it to be?

CAR. It's to be no!

GAN. Oh!

CAR. I wish the eating-house every success, but I don't intend to marry.

GAN. But couldn't you----?

CAR. No, I couldn't. Don't miss your train.

GAN. Well, (_takes up bag and hat_) it's a disappointment, but if you say it's to be like that----

CAR. It's to be like that. (_she resumes her work_) Good-night.

GAN. (_goes slowly up stage, pauses, turns--is about to speak, thinks better of it_) Good-night. (_he goes out at back door._ COOK _takes cake to larder, and then crosses back to window, brings glass tray down to top of table and puts glasses on it_. KEZIAH _rushes in after a slight pause, hastily dressed for walking, with large hat trimmed lavishly with flowers_)

KEZ. Ready at last, Cook! I'm always a cow's tail, ain't I? Thought I should never get into this dress. Miss Fletcher sent it 'ome so tight, I can't 'ardly bear myself, and no 'ook and eye at the neck, if you please. (_crosses to_ COOK) Lend us a pin, there's a dear! (COOK _gives her one, and stands watching her_) Thanks! (_crosses to looking-glass on wall_, R. U. E., _and fastens her collar with pin_.) I'll talk to me lady when I pay 'er. (_turning sees_ COOK _looking at her_) You're looking at the 'at? Yus, I 'ad to wear the big one, the straw didn't go with this dress, (_comes_ C.) It made me look almost common like. Well, I must step it. (_goes up_)

CAR. You've forgotten your gloves.

KEZ. Got 'em in my pocket--can't put 'em on yet--me hands is too 'ot. Am I all right at the back? This skirt seems to kick up. (_turns her back to_ COOK, _and kicks her foot up at the same time at back, looking over shoulder_)

CAR. Not more than it does in front.

KEZ. That's a blessing. (_opens door_) 'Arry war! (_she goes, leaving back door open._ COOK _takes glass tray to window, crosses and shuts door_ R.; _crosses and takes bowl to scullery, pours out water and wipes her hands, gets plate basket (chimes strike three-quarters) comes down_ L., _puts spoons in basket, crosses to_ R. _and exit. There is a slight pause, then_ CRAYLL _looks in at window, he taps twice, then whistles softly--there is another slight pause, then_ COOK _comes back and crosses_ C.)

CRAY. (_at window_) Oh! there you are! Anybody about?

CAR. No. Come in, the door is open. (_crosses to_ L., _he enters_)

CRAY. Well, I've got here. (_he stands leaning against the door_)

CAR. So I see.

CRAY. There's a beast of a dog somewhere on the premises, ain't there?

CAR. Yes, but he's chained up, and he's rather particular about his food; you needn't be nervous. (CRAYLL _slams door and crosses_ C.)

CRAY. (_looking round kitchen_) And these are your quarters, are they? You've brought your pigs to a nice market. (_she is silent_) Well?

CAR. Well?

CRAY. Why don't you speak?

CAR. I was waiting for you to begin.

CRAY. Don't you feel the damned degradation of your position?

CAR. No. You seem to forget I was your wife for nearly ten years.

CRAY. Ah! Have you any whiskey?

CAR. No!

CRAY. (_seeing decanter on slab in window_) Why, what's this?

CAR. That belongs to Captain Dorvaston.

CRAY. That's all right. (_crosses to window_) He knows me. He won't mind. (COOK _sits_ L. CRAY _stands at window with whiskey, syphon, and glass in hand_) A cook! That's what beats me. Why a cook?

CAR. It was an experiment.

CRAY. If you were broke (_comes to top of table and pours out whiskey_) why didn't you try the stage? The divorce would have given you a leg up.

CAR. How did you find me out?

CRAY. Accident! (_takes a drink and crosses_ C.) I came down here because I thought your pal the Duchess might give me the straight tip as to your whereabouts. My spottin' you was a bit of luck.

CAR. You must be very hard up?

CRAY. Oh! it's bin a rotten season! Nothin's paid me. Had some big stable information for Doncaster week--that didn't pay me, couldn't even win place money. Tried the Stock Exchange; damned if that paid me--jumped in at the top of the market, crawled out at the bottom. (_crosses to chair_) Then there was the trial----

CAR. Ah! I suppose the law expenses were heavy?

CRAY. Oh, devilish!

CAR. Bribing the servants must have been rather a serious item!

CRAY. What d'ye mean?

CAR. That was a most elaborate story my maid Thompson told the jury--Thompson was not very intelligent. It must have involved a great deal of careful rehearsal.

CRAY. We needn't go into all that. (_puts glass on table_)

CAR. You are astonished to find me here. What did you think I should do?

CRAY. Thought you were with Carruthers.

CAR. No, you didn't. (_he looks at her, tries to brave it out, but his eyes fall_) You had been dangling your title before the eyes of a certain rich widow, but I see by the papers (_he pours out whiskey_) she has slipped through those shaking fingers of yours and is going to marry another man.

CRAY. (_taking up glass nervously and drinking_) Yes; women are damned shifty.

CAR. Your notion didn't come off, but that was why you trumped up your case against me, knowing it was all a lie.

CRAY. You didn't deny it?

CAR. No.

CRAY. Neither did he?

CAR. No. Bob is a good fellow--and a good friend. He helped me.

CRAY. Helped you to cheat the law!

CAR. Helped me to cheat the law that ties a woman to such a man as you.

CRAY. That was the game, was it?

CAR. Why did you want to find me out? By the way, (_crosses to window and brings down "Standard" to top of table_), has that anything to do with it?

CRAY. How do you mean?

CAR. (_watching him closely_) To-day's "Standard." There's a little advertisement in the agony column.

CRAY. I--can't see--light's bad. Read it out!

CAR. (_crosses to gas_ L., _takes paper and reads_) "Will Lady Huntworth communicate with Messrs. Brampton and Stokes, Capel-Court, on a matter of considerable importance?" (_crosses to_ L. _of table and throws paper down_) Did you know of that?

CRAY. No. Who are Brampton and Stokes? Never heard of 'em.

CAR. (_leaning over table with one hand on it for support_) Then why have you been hunting me up? I hadn't a shilling--you saw to that.

CRAY. (_after slight pause, makes to touch her hand_) I wanted you to--come--back.

CAR. What?

CRAY. I'm willin'--to bury the past. (COOK _looks at him_) Well, I tell you, I want to bury the past.

CAR. (_pause, she puts hand on chair_) Before we talk of burying the past, I should like you to look down into the still open grave----

CRAY. (_shudders_) Filthy way of talkin'!

CAR. (_sits_ L.) When I married you I was thirty--quite old enough to know better! but I'd spent my youth in nursing my father. When he died I inherited a fortune--and my freedom--without much notion what to do with either. That was a bad year for me. I lost my father and I found you. (CRAYLL _scowls at her_) I don't know what crime I had committed that fate should sentence me to ten years' penal servitude. But my father had wished it and so did your mother. You had been a little wild, they said, but all you needed was gentle guidance. I believed them, but my gentle guidance that was to work miracles generally took the shape of helping you up to bed in the small hours, when the difficulty of adjusting the latchkey had been overcome.

CRAY. Look here, it 'pears to me you're trying to be 'fensive.

CAR. That was my life for ten years. The dregs of your fortune and the whole of mine gradually melted away--in cards--(_he pours out drink_) racing, drink--and a few extra establishments.

CRAY. You never grumbled about th' extra 'stablishments.

CAR. (_rises in disgust_) Oh, no! I only mention them now--to fill up the picture of our home life. With regard to your gambling and drunkenness I was sorry for myself, but in the matter of your infidelities I was sorry for the other women.

CRAY. Your language's 'fensive--damned 'fensive!

CAR. At the finish we had a pleasant little chat; you hadn't a sixpence left--or a friend either--except Bob Carruthers. He had lent you more than he could afford and he was sick of it. You tried to get me to ask him again. I wouldn't. It was on that occasion you reached up and tried to strike me. (_touches him on shoulder_) Do you remember?

CRAY. Momentary irritation--regretted it d'rectly!

CAR. (_returns paper to window_) We parted that night. The place was sold up, and I didn't hear of you again till you commenced proceedings for our divorce. (_he moves chair and faces her_) Then I went to Bob. He offered to see me through--engage counsel and all that. It would have been easy to smash your case, (_crosses and stands over him_) but that would have left me tied to you; so I asked him if he would join me in making no defence. He pointed out what society would think of me. I said I knew enough of society to care nothing for its bad opinion. He did as I wished, so you got your decree nisi and the sympathy of the public. (_crosses to top of table again_)

CRAY. All this is beastly 'fensive. (_leans limply over back of chair_)

CAR. My only problem was how to live. I couldn't teach or make dresses or typewrite. There was only one thing I could do properly--I could cook. It was always a fad of mine. I used often to prepare little dishes for my father--in the old days--and while I was trying to see my way, I met Millicent Sturton. I told her everything, and asked her to help me. She had influence with these good people--so I resumed my own name and became the vicar's cook. (_pause_; COOK _has gradually crossed_ L. _again_. CRAYLL _moves chair back to table and drinks_) Now you understand everything! I'll say good-bye. I'm likely to be rather busy this evening.

CRAY. Don't say goo'bye. I wan' you to come back. My 'ntentions are disin'ersted. Won't you come back?

CAR. (_stands with hands behind her back_) Not while there's a crossing to be swept--or a box of matches to be sold.

CRAY. (_rising unsteadily--leaning over table_) S'pose I was to--give th' show away--d'you think they'd keep a woman like you--a woman who was n'torious?

CAR. No!

CRAY. Very well, then I can squash you. Word from me'd sweep you into the gutter--an' if you don' come back--I'll do it. I'll show you what comes of r'fusin' disin'ested offer. (_she laughs and shrugs her shoulders_) Don' laugh at me, you fool! I'll do it! I'll drag you off your damned high horse, I'll--I'll--(_raises his arm to strike her_)

CAR. No, you won't! (_pauses; his arm slowly falls and he sways about limply_) you're too anxious to keep your own identity secret just now to say anything about mine. Isn't that so--Mr. Crayll?

CRAY. (_swaying about_) Tha's true, tha's true! Le's be frien's--shall we? Don' le's be touchy. If you'll come back, I'll do the right thing--marry you again--marry you anywhere you like--St. Paul's Cathedral, if you like. Come back and be a comfort to ailin' man. (_sinks into chair_) Le's have 'nother honeymoon. Shall we? Le's kiss an' be friends; but first le's have a little more whiskey. (_taking whiskey_) Shall we?

CAR. (_removing the tumbler, etc._) No, we won't have any more whiskey--in fact, I think we had better go now. (_she takes whiskey syphon and glass to window, and looks out_)

CRAY. (_who is now maudlin_) Not friendly! No r'sumption of former 'fectionate footin', same time--no desire to remain--where not wanted. (_puts cap on_) Where's cigar case? Want cigar--smoke going home. (_he very sleepily takes out letter case from his outside pocket_) Oh, here 'tish! (_as he holds it, he begins to doze, his arm falls its full length, and a letter falls out of case--his head falls right back, and he breathes heavily. He falls gradually into a deep sleep. She watches him quietly, then comes round to the right of him_)

CAR. (_pause_) Wake up! (_shakes him_) You mustn't sleep here.

CRAY. (_muttering_) Want cigar!

CAR. Want a cigar? But this is your letter case. (_she takes it from him, and puts it into his outside pocket_ R. _She then sees the fallen letter_) And you've dropped something. (_she picks it up--he snores_) Looks like a writ. (_she glances at it_) Messrs. Brampton and Stokes (_she pauses and looks at him_) Ah! my first idea was right (_crosses to gas with letter round to fireplace and reads it under the gas_) "Messrs. Brampton and Stokes present their compliments to Lord Huntworth, and would be greatly obliged if he could place them in communication with the lady who was till very recently his wife. The reason for the application is urgent, as information has been received from an Australian firm of solicitors that Lady Huntworth has succeeded to a considerable fortune through the death of an uncle. (_she again turns and looks at him_) Messrs. Brampton and Stokes would greatly appreciate an early reply. Capel Court. May 9th." More than two months ago! Ah! (_slight pause, crosses to top of table, and leans over it_) Lord Huntworth, you will do me the favour to wake up. (_he snores_) I thought I had said everything I had to say, but I find I was wrong. (_she stops and listens, then puts letter hurriedly inside her dress_) What's that? Did I hear the gate go? (_crosses to window, then crosses to_ CRAYLL _and shakes him and pulls him up_) Wake up--you mustn't be found here. (_she pulls him up_)

CRAY. Wha's matter?

CAR. I must put you somewhere; you wouldn't be easy to explain away. (_she half-supports, half-carries him up and into scullery; when there she allows him to droop into a sitting position against the sink; she then shuts the scullery door_) Quite like old times! (_looks out of window--brings work-box down, goes up to door and listens._ MR. PILLENGER _enters_)

PIL. Hum! Cook! (_at door_)

CAR. Yes?

PIL. May I come in?

CAR. Certainly! (_crosses to chair_ R. _and sits, takes out pudding cloth and starts to hem it_)

(MR. PILLENGER _enters at back door_.)

PIL. I--er--explained to Miss Pillenger that I thought it advisable to return home early--as I was feeling somewhat indisposed.

CAR. (_looks up at him_) Then you would like to go to bed? I'll let Miss Pillenger in. (_looks at door_ L.)

PIL. That is not necessary, I gave her my latchkey. I fear I must admit my illness has no--er--tangible existence.

CAR. Oh!

PIL. I trust I am not interrupting any--er--domestic occupation?

CAR. I have to hem some pudding cloths, but I can listen while I work. What do you want to say to me? (_she begins sewing_; PILLENGER _crosses to top of table, puts hat down; as he crosses_ COOK _looks at door_ L.)

PIL. I--er--find some difficulty in approaching the subject. It is one with which I have been hitherto--quite unfamiliar.

CAR. Perhaps if you sat down it might be easier.

PIL. Er--thank you. (_crosses to fire and stands with back to it_) The suggestion is very considerate. (_he makes several efforts to begin, but baulks himself_) During the few months you have been with us--you must have noticed that you had roused--in me--a strong feeling--(_she looks up at him_) of--er--of interest?

CAR. I saw it--I didn't notice it.

PIL. Exactly! (_moves to back of chair_ L.) You would not--care--perhaps, to give me a somewhat larger measure of your--er--confidence--touching the--er--the past.

CAR. (_stops work for a moment_) No; I think we'll leave the past alone.

PIL. I may possibly persuade you to be less reticent--when I have submitted my--er--my proposal to you.

CAR. Proposal? (_resumes work_)

PIL. Yes. After such reasonable hesitation as should precede the taking of any important step, I have decided to offer you an alternative to your present life, the nature of which you may have already guessed.

CAR. (_smiling back_) I suppose _you_ are the alternative?

PIL. (_moves to top of table near her_) Precisely. I ask you to be--er--to be my wife.

CAR. (_smiles_) Thanks! (_stops work_)

PIL. I am no longer young, but my health is good, with the exception of a little periodic gout. My temper, if not invariably equable, is what a long succession of curates has made it; and as to worldly considerations, without being a rich man, my position is an independent one.

CAR. It ought to be.

PIL. I beg your pardon?

CAR. You say you don't speak without consideration. Have you considered what your sister would say?

PIL. (_moves round to_ L.) It is a point to which I have devoted very exhaustive attention. At first she might not welcome the idea with--er--absolute enthusiasm. (_sits_ L.)

CAR. No, she might not. Have you also considered what the world would say?

PIL. The world?

CAR. It's rather a tolerant world where a man is concerned, but it holds special views about clergymen, and it wouldn't stand the notion of a vicar marrying his cook.

PIL. The social disparity between us is far more apparent than real. Your present vocation must be the outcome of caprice--or temporary necessity.

CAR. Take it at that. (_puts work in box_) What do you know of me? I may be an adventuress--in fact, most of the evidence points that way. At any rate I have no intention of marrying. (_smiles_) I have said the same thing once before this evening in reply to a similar proposition from Gandy. (_rises and crosses back of her chair and leans on chair_)

PIL. Gandy? Did he dare?

CAR. He did. (_smiling_) This seems to be rather a susceptible household. (_crosses to window and looks out_)

PIL. (_rising_) You haven't given me a conclusive answer?

CAR. (_hearing footsteps_) Haven't I? I thought I had.

PIL. (_crosses to_ C.) You may require a little time for final reflection.

CAR. I think not. (_looking out of window_)

PIL. Nevertheless, if you will spare me your attention.

CAR. One moment! I thought I heard a step on the path. (_she looks out of window_) Yes, it's Captain Dorvaston.

PIL. (_crosses to door and looks out, returns and takes hat from table_) You don't say so? That is highly inconvenient. What had I better do?

CAR. I think you had better go to bed.

PIL. An opportunity like the present is so difficult to obtain. He will merely pass through to his room. I'll wait in the scullery. (_makes for it_)

CAR. (_puts hand on door_) The scullery is rather in confusion. (_goes back to window and looks out_)

PIL. Then the larder is probably available. (_goes towards it_)

CAR. I really wouldn't wait if I were you.

PIL. (_speaking from entrance to larder_) I do so on my own initiative. There are several arguments I wish to----

CAR. (_at window_) He's coming.

PIL. Oh! (_hastily goes in and closes larder door_)

(DORVASTON _simultaneously enters at garden door_)

DOR. Well, Cook, I've got back. May I come in?

CAR. If you like. (_drops down_ L. DORVASTON _enters and locks door after him_) You needn't have locked the door.

DOR. Don't you keep it locked?

CAR. I do generally--it doesn't matter. (_sits_ L.)

DOR. The governor was seedy and left early.

CAR. Yes, he came back.

DOR. Gone to bed, I s'pose? (_she is silent and has resumed her work_) I tried to think of something a bit more novel, but I couldn't, so I had to tell the old lady I wasn't feeling fit myself.

CAR. Why did you trouble?

DOR. (_crosses to top of table and puts hat down_) Oh, well, don't you know, I wanted to say something to you.

CAR. Yes. (_stops work_)

DOR. I'm a bad hand at getting my notions into words. P'raps if you go on doing--whatever you're doing--I may manage to make a start. (_she resumes work_) That ought to look exceptional pretty when it's finished.

CAR. Do you think so?

DOR. Yes! What--is it?

CAR. A pudding cloth.

DOR. Jove! You don't say so? (_laughs_) I say, you mustn't think me an awful ass!

CAR. It doesn't matter what I think.

DOR. It matters to me.

CAR. It oughtn't to matter. (_pause--he takes up the weekly journal_)

DOR. Been doing a bit of reading? (_sits on table_ R. _corner_)

CAR. No. That belongs to Keziah.

DOR. This sounds promising. (_reads_) "The belted Earl entered the lists with lance in rest. His shield bore for device a bar sinister with Fleur de Lys rampant." That ain't heraldry!

CAR. Yes, it is, (_looking up_) "Family Heraldry." (_he laughs_) I don't want to hurry you, but it's getting late.

DOR. (_rises_) Well, I--I hope you haven't misunderstood my--object in--bothering you?

CAR. I should like to think I had.

DOR. I don't follow.

CAR. Members of your profession don't generally make an appointment with cook in order to assure her of their respect.

DOR. Some of us may be a bit rackety, but we know a lady when we see one, and we shouldn't treat her any different because she chose to pretend to be a cook.

CAR. Pretend?

DOR. (_crosses_ C. _and gets gradually to chair_ R. _of table_) Why, any duffer could see--_I_ can see you were never meant to be what you are. These things generally come about through loss of coin--for instance, a woman's father speculates, and the home goes biff. He shuts up in his stride, and she takes up the running. Now what that woman wants is a friend to give her the lead over the fences--a friend who don't want anything from her--will you keep your eye on that?--who don't want anything from her, but who would like awfully to do her a turn, if she'd let him. I think that goes into the four corners of what I wanted to say. (_sits_)

CAR. (_rising_) Do you know you're a wonderfully good fellow?

DOR. Oh, rot! Well, may I be--a little use to somebody for once?

CAR. I won't borrow money of you, if you meant that.

DOR. False pride!

CAR. No, that isn't it.

DOR. It's a devilish odd thing that every good woman is a bit of a coward, and she's always afraid of what people will say, especially if it isn't true.

CAR. That description fits me less than any woman in the world.

DOR. You won't let me be of use to you, because I happen to be a man, and you happen to be a woman--ain't that so? (_rises_) I see how it is. I've made an ass of myself. You won't have my help or my friendship.

CAR. (_rises_) I don't need the help, but I'll take the friendship.

DOR. Thanks!

CAR. (_shuts work-box_) What I thought about you was wrong. I beg your pardon.

DOR. Oh, that's all right!

CAR. (_leans on box_) Now, will you do me a little favour?

DOR. Anything! (_leans over table_)

CAR. Will you go to bed? (_he backs with surprise_) They mustn't come back and find you here.

DOR. Of course not, I'll go at once; and if at any time you should want a pal, you'll let me----

CAR. Hush! (_crosses to door and opens it_) I fancy I heard the key in the front door. (_she listens_) Yes, it is them. Miss Pillenger is saying she wants to speak to me.

DOR. (_takes up hat_) By George! I'd better nip into the scullery. (_crosses to scullery_)

CAR. No!

DOR. The larder? (_crosses to it_)

CAR. No. Go into the garden.

DOR. Of course! Stupid of me! (_he tries the door_)

CAR. Make haste.

DOR. Can't get the beastly door open. Something's wrong with the key.

CAR. You'll be too late! (_advances towards him_)

DOR. Here! (_opens door_) What's this? Ah, the broom cupboard, any port in a storm! (_goes in_; COOK _shuts door and stands there for a moment_)

(MISS PILLENGER _enters_.)

MISS P. Cook, I remembered I hadn't ordered to-morrow's breakfast. (_crosses and sits_ R. _of table_)

CAR. No. What would you like? (_crosses to top of table_)

MISS P. (_sitting_ R. _of table_) Has Keziah returned?

CAR. Not yet.

MISS P. Both my brother and Captain Dorvaston were too unwell to remain with us. They have doubtless gone to bed, so I will ask you to go upstairs very quietly.

CAR. Certainly! I think I hear Keziah. (_she goes to back-door_)

MISS P. She is very late. (_pause_) Why don't you open the door?

CAR. The key sticks a little.

MISS P. It should be oiled. (COOK _opens the door and admits_ KEZIAH, _who doesn't see_ MISS PILLENGER)

KEZ. Oh, Cook, I did enjoy myself a treat! 'E was there--and when I come out---- (_comes_ C. _and sees_ MISS PILLENGER) Oh lor!

MISS P. Keziah!

KEZ. Yes, mum.

MISS P. Why are you so late?

KEZ. I dunno, mum.

MISS P. Who is the person you spoke of when you came in?

KEZ. What person, mum?

MISS P. You said distinctly _he_ was there.

KEZ. Oh, that was me sister's 'usband's brother, mum. (_winks at_ COOK) 'E's a plumber, and Church of England.

MISS P. You are aware I don't allow followers?

KEZ. 'E don't follow _me_, mum. I did give 'im good evenin', bein', as you may say, relations, and 'e told me as my sister 'as just 'ad 'er _seventh_, and both doin' well, and----

MISS P. That will do. I hope you are telling the truth.

KEZ. Oh yes, mum, it's gorspel, it is reely!

MISS P. Mind you go upstairs quietly; your master is unwell.

KEZ. Yes, mum. (_goes to door again, winks at_ COOK) Good night, mum.

MISS P. Good night! (KEZIAH _goes out_) I'm afraid, Cook, you must have had a rather dull evening.

CAR. No, I haven't been dull. (_puts box on window-ledge and returns_) You were going to speak about the breakfast.

MISS P. Yes. Let me see, we shall have fish. (_noise in cupboard_) What was that? I heard a noise in that cupboard.

CAR. It may have been a mouse.

MISS P. I didn't know we had any mice. You had better set a trap to-morrow.

CAR. You mentioned fish? Will you have it grilled?

MISS P. No, fried with egg and breadcrumbs. (_noise in cupboard is repeated more loudly_) That can't be a mouse. The cat must have got shut up in there.

CAR. The cat is in the scullery.

MISS P. Then it must be a strange cat. (_rises and crosses to_ R. C.)

CAR. (_going to cupboard, her hand on knob_) Strange cats sometimes fly at you. If you'll go, I'll see to it. I'm not nervous.

MISS P. (_advances to cupboard_) Neither am I. I prefer to see for myself. (_waves_ COOK _back_) How this door sticks. (_she pulls at the handle of the door, which at last opens, discovering_ DORVASTON) Captain Dorvaston! (_he comes out sheepishly; pause_) May I ask you to explain this? (DORVASTON _looks first at_ MISS P. _then at_ COOK--_takes his hat off_)

DOR. Well, ma'am, it ain't exactly easy to make the thing clear.

MISS P. I see. (_speaking at_ COOK) The explanation is only too obvious. My niece has gone to her room, so I shall not disturb her to-night, but to-morrow it will be my painful duty to tell her everything. (_moves a step to the door_)

DOR. I say, ma'am, just a moment.

MISS P. (_moves toward_ COOK _and stops_) As to you, Cook, I will--or, rather, Mr. Pillenger--will speak to you in the morning.

CAR. (_smiling_) Very well! (_at top of table._ MISS PILLENGER _moves to go_--DORVASTON _intercepts her_)

DOR. Look here, ma'am--upon my soul you must listen. I wanted to say something to Cook. It was nothing--anybody might have heard it.

MISS P. Then why conceal yourself in the broom cupboard?

DOR. I know the broom cupboard ain't easy to get out of. I could explain better, only I feel in such an awful hat----

MISS P. You are not wearing your hat!

DOR. No, but--really, you know, I simply wanted--

CAR. Captain Dorvaston, don't trouble; whatever you may say Miss Pillenger won't believe you.

MISS P. That is true. There are things that cannot be explained away. The broom cupboard is one of them. (_going_)

DOR. But I say, ma'am! (_moves again_)

MISS P. (_motions him away_) Good-night, Captain Dorvaston. (_he opens door, she goes out._ DORVASTON _and_ COOK _look at each other, she smiles_)

DOR. (_after pause_) I've made a nice mess of it.

CAR. You have rather. (_closes cupboard door, returns_ L.)

DOR. If nature allowed a fella to kick himself, I'd do it with the greatest pleasure. (_comes to_ R. _and puts hat down on table_) To drag you into such a beastly muddle! And I did so want to do you a turn.

CAR. I know you did. You meant kindly, and I'm very grateful. Go to bed and forget all about it.

DOR. There'll be an awful row to-morrow. I'm not thinking of myself, I'm thinking about you.

CAR. You needn't worry about me. Oddly enough, I've had news to-night that makes this affair very unimportant. Now I must really ask you to go.

DOR. All right, I'll be off. But, I say--you do forgive me?

CAR. Of course I forgive you.

DOR. Thanks. Good-night!

CAR. Good-night! (_he goes to door_ R., _then returns to table for his hat. As he does so_ PILLENGER _cautiously emerges from the larder. The two men face each other_)

PIL. Hum! Tut, tut! (COOK _turns and sits_ L.)

DOR. Hulloa, sir! Were you in there?

PIL. Yes--I--er--was.

DOR. What, all the time?

PIL. I had an important reason for desiring a few minutes' conversation with--er--Cook.

CAR. Mr. Pillenger shared your wish that I should better myself.

DOR. That's devilish lucky, because, as you were a witness, you can clean the slate for us, and back up what I say.

PIL. You fail to perceive that my perfectly innocent sojourn in the larder would be as difficult of plausible explanation as your own regrettable occupancy of the broom cupboard.

DOR. Jove, yes, that's true! What had we better do?

CAR. The first step--especially as you are both invalids (_the men look at each other_) is for you to go to bed.

PIL. The suggestion is most judicious. (_they both start for the door_; PILLENGER _stops Dorvaston_) I think, Captain Dorvaston, I will precede you by a few minutes. The stairs have a tendency to creak, and would certainly do so under our combined weight. Good-night.

DOR. Good-night, sir.

PIL. (_is going but pauses_) With your permission I will remove my boots. (_he does so_) It would not be fair to disturb the household. Good-night! (_he goes out with a boot in each hand, and his hat under his arm_)

DOR. (_crosses and sits_ R.) By George! then the governor was there all the time.

CAR. Yes, I was well provided with chaperonage. (_turns to mantel and puts gas out, takes candlestick from bracket and crosses to window_)

DOR. It don't get you out of the mess, that's the worst of it.

CAR. (_shutting the window and then crossing to larder_) You needn't mind me.

DOR. I'm bound to mind you. Are you sure there's nothing I could do to help you--in any sort of way?

CAR. No. (_shuts door; her eye goes to scullery_) Well, there is one thing you could do for me--if you really mean what you say.

DOR. I swear I do! (_rises_)

CAR. (_crosses_ C.) What I should want you to do would be rather a nuisance. Are you sure you wouldn't mind?

DOR. Try me.

CAR. Well, there's a man in the scullery.

DOR. Another man!

CAR. Yes. I fancy you'll find he is asleep against the sink.

DOR. Is he, by George?

CAR. Might I trouble you to fetch him out? (_crosses to dresser and lights candle_)

DOR. Eh? What? Oh, certainly! (_he goes to scullery, opens door and discovers_ CRAYLL _asleep in a sitting position_; DORVASTON _picks him up, places him in a chair_ R. _of table_) There you are! (COOK _crosses with candle, and light falls on_ CRAYLL'S _face_) Why, it's Crayll! (_looks at_ COOK)

CAR. Yes.

DOR. He's as drunk as a fiddler.

CAR. Yes. He called on me this evening, rather to my inconvenience.

DOR. Did he?

CAR. Might I ask you--to put him somewhere for me? (DORVASTON _looks at her wonderingly_) There's a dry ditch--at the end of the garden--that would do.

DOR. Anything you wish, of course.

CAR. Thanks! (_turns_ B. _gas out_)

DOR. Then you know Crayll?

CAR. Yes. (_turning to_ DORVASTON) He was my husband at one time. (_turns out gas_)

DOR. (_in an amazed whisper_) What!

CAR. Good-night! (_she goes out quietly at door_ R.)

_The stage is now dark except the moonlight which streams in at door._ DORVASTON _stands transfixed with astonishment--then he puts on his hat--goes up and opens the back door--returns--picks up_ CRAYLL _and carries him up stage. As he does so the_

CURTAIN FALLS.