Part 6

I don’t mind what you say so long as you help me.

[_There is a moment’s pause._

ARCHIBALD.

[_Hesitatingly._] We’re taught that there’s one course clear to the sinner that repenteth.

[GRACE _starts to her feet and looks at him wildly_.

GRACE.

You want me to tell Claude?

ARCHIBALD.

[_In a low voice._] I don’t see how there can be forgiveness till one has confessed one’s sin.

GRACE.

[_With a deep, deep sigh._] Oh, if you knew what a relief it would be! For days I’ve been fighting with the temptation to make a clean breast of it. I’ve been trying to keep it from me, trying not to think of it. But it meets me at every turn. It haunts me. It’s like an obsession, and it’s stronger than I am. It’s driving me--driving me to confess. I know I shall have to do it; I can’t help myself. I shall go mad if I don’t tell him.

ARCHIBALD.

For goodness’ sake, calm yourself.

GRACE.

If I’d told him before, when I was trying to persuade him to let Gann stay, that girl wouldn’t have died. I hadn’t the courage. I wouldn’t sacrifice myself. It was too much to ask me. And since then I’ve been tortured by remorse. They say she had the suicidal instinct, and would have killed herself for almost anything. But I seem to see her lying there reproaching me. Reproaching me.

ARCHIBALD.

Why don’t you go to Claude at once and get it over?

GRACE.

I’m frightened. I’m just sick with fear. A dozen times I’ve been on the point of it--just to have done with it, to get rid of the agony that burnt my heart--and at the last moment I couldn’t. But it’s like being on a high place and looking down and holding on to something so that you shouldn’t throw yourself over. Sooner or later I shall have to do it. It’s the only way to get back my self-respect. It’s the only chance I have of living at all.

ARCHIBALD.

I wish I could do more for you.

GRACE.

No one can do anything for me. Oh, it is cruel. And to come just now when I love Claude! I didn’t love him at first. It came quite suddenly--as if scales had been torn away from my eyes. And it wasn’t till then that I saw the sin and the wickedness of it. Oh, it was so much more than sin and wickedness. The filthiness. The only thing’s to tell him and have done with it. You know he’ll divorce me, don’t you?

ARCHIBALD.

He loves you so much.

GRACE.

Even if it breaks his heart, he’ll force himself to divorce me. You know what Claude is. He’ll think it’s his duty. He’ll do what he thinks he ought to do even if it kills him. Oh, but if he’d only forgive me, I would try to make amends. It’s so hard that I’ve only learnt how to be a good wife now that I’m unfit to be his wife at all.

ARCHIBALD.

[_Deeply moved._] Be brave, Grace.

[_She looks at him for a moment, then suddenly makes up her mind. She takes a letter from her dress and sits down at the desk. She puts it into an envelope on which she writes_ CLAUDE’S _name_.

GRACE.

Will you ring the bell?

ARCHIBALD.

[_Touching it._] What are you going to do?

GRACE.

It’s a letter that I had from--the other. It’s proof of everything. I felt I couldn’t tell Claude. It was hopeless. And I thought I’d just press it into his hand....

[_As she is speaking_ MOORE _comes in. She hands him the letter._

GRACE.

Have that given to Mr. Insoley the moment he comes in.

MOORE.

Very good, madam.

[_Exit._

ARCHIBALD.

[_Startled._] D’you mean to say you’re going to tell him like that?

GRACE.

It’s the only way I _can_ do it.

ARCHIBALD.

[_Overcome._] Good God, what have I done?

GRACE.

He’ll read the letter, and then the worst will be over. I couldn’t have told him--I couldn’t.

ARCHIBALD.

I hope you’ve done right.

GRACE.

Anyhow, it’s the end of everything--just when I might have started a new life.... I wonder when I shall have to go away from here?

ARCHIBALD.

Don’t put it like that.

GRACE.

[_Looking out of the window._] I thought I hated the place. It’s bored me to the verge of tears. And now I shall never again see the night fall on the park slowly. And I feel ... and I feel that with me, too, those great trees, and the meadows, and the cawing rooks have come to be part of my blood and my bones.

[_The door is opened, and_ GRACE _gives a start and a little frightened cry_. HELEN VERNON _comes in_.

GRACE.

Oh, I thought it was Claude.

[_She puts her hand to her heart and steadies herself against a chair._

MISS VERNON.

What on earth’s the matter?

GRACE.

[_With a gesture of the head towards_ ARCHIBALD.] I’ve told him about me and....

MISS VERNON.

[_In short exclamation, which does not interrupt_ GRACE.] Oh!

GRACE.

I’m going to tell Claude. It’s the only thing to do.

MISS VERNON.

[_To_ ARCHIBALD, _sharply_.] Is that your advice? You fool, Archibald!

GRACE.

I can’t bear the torture any more.

MISS VERNON.

I suspected you were thinking of something like this. But you wouldn’t let me speak to you.

GRACE.

I’ve been struggling against it, and now I’ve made up my mind.

MISS VERNON.

My dear, there are three good rules in life. The first is--never sin; and that’s the most sensible. The second is--if you sin, never repent; and that’s the bravest. But the third is--if you repent, never never confess; and that’s the hardest of them all.

ARCHIBALD.

I don’t think this is the time for flippancy, Helen.

MISS VERNON.

Good heavens, I’m being as serious as I possibly can.

ARCHIBALD.

D’you mean to say you think Grace oughtn’t to say anything?

MISS VERNON.

I think it would be monstrous of her to say anything.

ARCHIBALD.

If the sinner wants forgiveness, first of all he must confess his sin.

MISS VERNON.

You still look upon your God as a God of vengeance, who wants sacrifices to appease Him.

ARCHIBALD.

“If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins.”

MISS VERNON.

That was said to a stiff-necked generation that wanted humbling. But no one can want to humble us, surely. We’re so timid already. We’re so unsure of ourselves. We’ve all got a morbid desire to unbosom ourselves. The commonest ailment of the day is a vulgar feminine passion for making scenes. Confession’s like a drug we fly to because we’ve lost the last shadow of our self-reliance.

ARCHIBALD.

Don’t let her move you, Grace. I beseech you, for your soul’s sake. Be brave.

GRACE.

I know that it’s my only chance of happiness.

MISS VERNON.

But who cares about your happiness?

ARCHIBALD.

Helen, how can you be so unkind?

MISS VERNON.

No one knows why we’ve been brought into the world, but it evidently wasn’t for our happiness. Or if it was, the Being who put us here has made a most outrageous mess of it. Put your happiness out of the question.

ARCHIBALD.

[_Very earnestly to_ GRACE.] If the sinner repents, let him confess his sin. That’s the only proof he can give of a contrite spirit.

MISS VERNON.

Nonsense. He can give a much more sensible proof by acting differently in future.

GRACE.

That would be so easy now.

MISS VERNON.

But actions aren’t good because they’re difficult.

GRACE.

Part of my punishment is the feeling that except for this horrible mistake we should both be so much happier than we were before.

MISS VERNON.

You love Claude now, don’t you?

GRACE.

With all my heart.

MISS VERNON.

I have an idea that it’s only your sin that has made your love worth having.

ARCHIBALD.

[_Rather shocked._] Helen.

MISS VERNON.

You were rather hard and selfish before because you had nothing in particular to reproach yourself with. Perhaps it was necessary that you should step from the narrow path of virtue in order to become a virtuous woman.

ARCHIBALD.

Helen, you can’t mean that.

MISS VERNON.

It’s very often only repentance that makes men and women human.

ARCHIBALD.

Repentance is useless without sacrifice.

GRACE.

Yes, I feel that. And the only sacrifice I can make is to lay bare my soul before Claude and accept my punishment.

ARCHIBALD.

And then, I think Claude should be given the chance of deciding for himself. It’s not fair to leave him in ignorance.

MISS VERNON.

[_To_ GRACE.] Don’t you know that Claude loves you, and trusts you, and believes in you?

GRACE.

That is all my torment. I’m so unworthy. If I didn’t love him--if I didn’t want him to love me so much--it wouldn’t be so dreadful.... I can’t bear that there should be this secret between us. I know that he’s not loving me, but some fancy of his own heart. And I’m jealous. I’m jealous of the woman he loves who isn’t me. And I want him to love me as I am, as I love him.

MISS VERNON.

Grace, don’t forget that I’ve loved him, too, hopelessly, without any thought of a return. It gives me some claim, doesn’t it?

[ARCHIBALD _looks at her quickly, with surprise, but does not speak_.

MISS VERNON.

The only thing I care for is his happiness. And I beseech you to have mercy on him.

GRACE.

What do you mean?

MISS VERNON.

If you destroy his belief in you he’ll have nothing left. He thinks he’s strong, but he isn’t. He depends on a few simple principles, and some of them are already giving way under his feet. He wants you now more than ever. You can give him back his self-reliance. And you’re going to humiliate him. Besides everything else, the misery and the grief, don’t you see what a blow it’ll be to his vanity? I beseech you to have mercy.

GRACE.

You’re asking me to go on living the hateful lie. But I can’t breathe. The air about me seems heavy with deceit. If Claude doesn’t love me for what I am, what can his love be to me?

MISS VERNON.

My dear, it’s not for ourselves that our friends love us, but for the grace and the beauty that they’ve given us out of their own hearts. And the only way we can show them our gratitude is by doing all we can to preserve those precious illusions they have about us.

GRACE.

I don’t want a love that’s based on illusion. At the back of my mind there was the hope that if I told Claude, some day in the future he might forgive me. And we could start fresh with mutual knowledge and mutual confidence. But if I don’t tell him, we can never come together. Even though we’re not separated for an hour, there’ll always be this barrier between us.

MISS VERNON.

Then let that be your punishment.

GRACE.

[_Startled._] That! [_With a little laugh of scorn._] You don’t know what you’re asking me to do. It’s because I love Claude so much that I _can’t_ let him go on thinking I’m good and pure and chaste.

ARCHIBALD.

And how can good come out of a lie, Helen?

MISS VERNON.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be a lie always. Don’t you remember the Happy Hypocrite? Love can work many miracles.

GRACE.

[_With a sort of gasp._] You mean--you think I might become really what Claude thinks me?

MISS VERNON.

You might try.

GRACE.

D’you know that I should never have a moment’s peace?

MISS VERNON.

If you love Claude really, that mightn’t be too great a price to pay for his happiness.

GRACE.

[_Vehemently._] Oh, it’s all very well for you to talk, but you don’t know what this sense of shame is. It’s killing me. And the degradation of being loved for what you’re not. And you want me never to escape from it. Oh, you’re right. It would be a fiendish punishment.

MISS VERNON.

It’s the only return you can make for all the love that Claude has given you.

GRACE.

[_Taking up the thought._] For his wonderful kindness, and all these years of thought and loving tenderness.

[_For a moment_ GRACE _stares in front of her as the words sink in_.

MISS VERNON.

Grace, it’s I who ask you now to be brave.

GRACE.

[_With a great sigh._] I seem to see the chance of a greater sacrifice than anything I’d ever dreamt of. I wonder.... I believe there’s a chance.... [_With a sudden start._] Oh! listen.

[_She has heard_ CLAUDE _come in. There is a sound of voices in the hall._

GRACE.

That’s settled it. It’s too late now to do anything.

MISS VERNON.

What is it?

GRACE.

Claude’s just come in. I heard him speaking to Moore. He’s been given the letter.

MISS VERNON.

D’you mean to say.... [_Some part of the facts dawns upon her and she bursts out violently._] Oh, it’s not that the human race are wicked that I mind, or that they’re weak--you _can_ give them backbone; but what I can’t get over is that they are such blooming fools.

GRACE.

Will you leave me, both of you? Claude had better find me alone.

MISS VERNON.

[_To_ ARCHIBALD, _after a glance at_ GRACE.] Come.

[_They go out._ GRACE _is horribly frightened. She stands quite still, pulling her handkerchief about._ CLAUDE _comes in_. _He has a letter in his hand. He flings it on a table._ GRACE _sees with a start that it is unopened_.

GRACE.

[_Forcing herself to seem natural._] Is the inquest over?

CLAUDE.

[_Sinking dejectedly into a chair._] They brought in a verdict of suicide while of unsound mind.

GRACE.

That was what you expected, wasn’t it?

CLAUDE.

Yes.

GRACE.

You must be thankful it’s finished and done with.

CLAUDE.

[_With an effort._] The jury passed a vote of censure on me.

GRACE.

Claude!

CLAUDE.

Oh, if you’d only heard the questions they asked me! There were reporters there, so it’ll be in the papers and you can read for yourself. They made me appear a perfect brute.

GRACE.

I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as you fancy.

CLAUDE.

You see, I hadn’t a chance of defending myself. I wasn’t going to make excuses to a parcel of Dissenting shopkeepers. It made me look as if I hadn’t a leg to stand on.

GRACE.

After all, what can it matter what a dozen yokels think of you?

CLAUDE.

And afterwards when I came out--they had the inquest in that big room upstairs at the Insoley Arms--there was a crowd outside, people I’d known all my life, I suppose they’d been taking the opportunity to have a good soak, and they hissed me as I passed.

GRACE.

Didn’t you say that you were going to abolish the rule?

CLAUDE.

Of course I’m going to abolish the rule. Hang it all, it’s caused wretchedness enough.

GRACE.

I wish you’d had an opportunity of telling them.

CLAUDE.

[_Rather shamefacedly._] The coroner asked me what I was going to do about it. I couldn’t knuckle under then with all those people round me. I simply couldn’t, Grace. I was obliged to say that I meant to be master in my own house, and I didn’t propose to let anyone dictate to me.

GRACE.

[_Putting her hand on his shoulder._] I’m afraid you’ve been awfully worried, old man.

CLAUDE.

It’s given me a bit of a knock to find out that they--they just hate me. I was rather fond of the people on the estate, and I thought they were fond of me. When they’ve been in trouble I’ve done every damned thing I could to help them. When times have been bad I’ve not bothered much about the rents, and we’ve never been rich. Hang it all, I’ve given them all my time and my thoughts for years, and the only result is that they can’t stick me. They haven’t got any mercy if I’ve made a mistake. They give me no credit for good intentions.

GRACE.

I’m sure you exaggerate, Claude. You fancy they feel more bitter than they really do.

CLAUDE.

Oh, if you’d only seen them! The pleasure they took in having a dig at me! I could see the hatred on their faces. Oh, I expect Archibald is right. Our time down here is over. The only fellow they want in the country now is the Jew stockbroker with his pockets full of money.

GRACE.

Darling, _I_ know that you’ve always acted for the best. _I_ know how much you’ve done for the people on the estate. After all, it wasn’t for their gratitude that you did it, was it? It was because it was your duty.

CLAUDE.

[_Rising._] Oh, Grace, I don’t know what I should do without you. You’ve been so awfully good to me through the whole thing. I’m so grateful to you.

GRACE.

What nonsense!

CLAUDE.

I was so afraid it would make a difference to you, but it hasn’t, has it?

GRACE.

[_Shaking her head._] No.

CLAUDE.

If I lost you, Grace, I couldn’t live. Without you--I can’t imagine life without you.

GRACE.

How absurd you are, Claude.

CLAUDE.

I’m talking rot, aren’t I?

[_He notices the letter, which he had put on the table, and picks it up._ GRACE _catches her breath_.

CLAUDE.

Hulloa! I forgot to open this. Moore gave it me as I came in. [_With surprise._] It’s your hand-writing.

GRACE.

[_Quite naturally, holding out her hand._] It’s nothing. I was afraid I should have gone out by the time you came in, and I wanted to remind you about the herbaceous border. It’s only a note.

CLAUDE.

[_Giving her the letter._] Are you going out?

GRACE.

I was going to motor to Wells with Helen Vernon.

[_As she speaks she tears the letter into little bits._

CLAUDE.

Don’t leave me to-day, Grace. I want you so awfully badly.

GRACE.

[_Sinking with exhaustion into a chair._] No, I won’t leave you ... if you want me.

[CLAUDE _kneels down by her side_.

CLAUDE.

I always want you, Grace. You’re so much to me.... After all, nothing can really matter to me so long as I have you. It’s such a comfort to think that I can trust you. And you’ll never round on me. I’m awfully grateful for you, Grace.

[_He buries his face in her lap, kissing her hands._

GRACE.

[_In a trembling voice._] I can never be such a wife to you as you deserve, Claude. But I can try. If you can believe in me always, Claude, perhaps in time I can become what you believe me. [_He makes a movement._] No, don’t look at me. I want you to know that I love you with all my heart, I love you with my body, and I love you with my soul. I want to forget myself and think only of you. What does my happiness matter so long as I can make you happy?

[_She bends down and kisses his hair._

THE END