ACT I.

SCENE. _The First Act takes place in the_ WOLTON'S _house during a large fancy ball. All the guests are in children's costumes--that being insisted upon in the invitations. The stage represents a reception-room; the end of a conservatory, or ball-room, being seen through a large archway. In the upper right hand corner of the stage is a small stage built with curtains and foot-lights, for an amateur vaudeville performance, which is taking place._

_At rise of curtain the room is filled with guests in costume, on chairs before improvised stage, and the curtain of stage is just falling, as one of the Lady Guests--who, dressed (and blacked) as a small Darky Girl, has been singing a popular negro ballad ("Warmest Baby.") The mimic curtain rises again, owing to the applause of the mimic audience. The chorus of song is repeated and the curtain again falls to applause. There is a general movement among guests--with laughter and conversation._

DISCOVERED. MARION WOLTON, _dressed in Empire Child's gown, is sitting in one of the third row of chairs next the foot-lights. Up to now her back is partly turned toward the audience._ KITTY RAND, _dressed in short skirts, is just behind her_.

FANSHAW. [_Leaning over to_ MARION.] I think, Marion, this was really a most amusing idea of yours, having us all come as children.

_Enter_ DOUGLAS RHODES, _in white sailor costume. He meets_ MRS. WOLTON _who enters. They talk._

MARION. [_To_ KITTY.] Your costume, Kitty, is charming.

KITTY. [_With a ball on rubber cord._] My dear, I'm sure I look a sight. I feel as if it were bathing hour at Narragansett.

MARION. Here's Bessie. How splendid she was. [_Rises._] [_Enter_ BESSIE. _She laughs as she is greeted by shouts of laughter and applause by guests. She joins_ MARION, _who shakes her hand_.] You were too funny, Bessie. [_A guest rises and offers seat to_ BESSIE. _She accepts it and sits._

JOHNSTONE. [_Monkey; white kilt suit._] [_To_ BESSIE _as she sits_.] Yes. Isn't this an awfully lovely party? [_To_ FANSHAW.] Here, Fanshaw, it's your turn.

GUESTS _and_ ALL. Yes, come on Fanshaw, etc. [FANSHAW _exits_.

RHODES _comes from_ MRS. WOLTON, _nodding pleasantly to guests as he passes round behind them, to_ MARION. _He shakes her hand._

MARION. Why so late, Douglas?

DOUGLAS. I was dining with Mrs. Lorrimer; but I hope you've saved me a seat by you. [BLANCHE _exits, ready for stage_.

MARION. I'm sorry, but I haven't. There's the curtain.

_She sits and_ DOUGLAS _takes a place back of guests, shaking hands with_ TRIMMINS _as he does so. Mimic curtain rises, music begins, all interrupt with "Sh-h."_ FANSHAW _enters on mimic stage, dressed as Little Lord Fauntleroy, and sings. Mimic curtain falls to applause. Curtain is raised. Black rag-baby thrown to him during song._ FANSHAW _enters, bows, and, as he does so_, BLANCHE _throws a small bouquet of flowers to him. This he catches and makes entrance upon stage by jumping over mimic foot-lights. He is congratulated and thanked by_ MARION _and resumes his seat_.

_Music begins. All interrupt again with "Sh-h." Curtain is raised, and enter_ ETHEL, _dressed as a child of 1840, in white and green. She comes forward and sings_ ("_Henrietta_"), _with orchestral accompaniment, a flute obligato being a feature of the latter, which, every little while, indulges in loud variations, entirely drowning the singer's voice, much to her annoyance, and the only half-suppressed amusement of the guests. As she reaches the chorus all_ (_at_ MARION'S _suggestion_) _join in with her and finish the song_. MARION _rises, giving the signal that the entertainment is over. Servants come in and take away most of the chairs, leaving one in centre of stage and three up toward the left centre. All rise and form groups; those of guests near the door move into ball-room and off._ ETHEL _enters, and_ MARION _at once greets her_, KITTY _and_ JOHNSTONE _joining them_.

MARION. Thank you ever so much.

JOHNSTONE. Yes, indeed. Isn't this an awfully lovely party.

ETHEL. [_With large hoople and stick; quickly, much put out_.] My dear Marion, I could choke that flute player.

MARION. Don't be selfish, Ethel; the man wanted to be heard. [_Goes up to_ DOUGLAS.

ETHEL. If I were a witch, I'd curse him with asthma. Mr. Johnstone, go and curse him for me.

JOHNSTONE. With pleasure.

ETHEL. Just give him a piece of my mind. [_Enter_ GIRL.

JOHNSTONE. [_Flatteringly._] He doesn't deserve such a gift. But isn't this a lovely party? Will you excuse me? [_He goes up stage to_ BLANCHE, _offers his arm, which she takes, and they exit._ KITTY _and_ ETHEL _watch_ BLANCHE _and_ JOHNSTONE, _amused._

KITTY. [_To_ ETHEL.] Just look at Blanche. Do you suppose she's going to--

ETHEL. She's going to with all her might and main, if he will only ask her.

KITTY. A large if-- [_Laughing._ FANSHAW _and_ GERTRUDE _join_ ETHEL _and_ KITTY _down stage._

FANSHAW. Looks as if Johnny were getting pretty stuck on Blanche, doesn't it? [_Goes to_ KITTY. TRIMMINS _moves up centre._

ETHEL. Yes, or just the other way round. [_All laugh._

GERTRUDE. Who are you dancing the cotillon with, Ethel?

ETHEL. Don't know. I've promised two men, but I haven't made up my mind who I'll dance with yet.

FANSHAW. A nice person to engage for a partner. [_Calling._] Trimmins!

ETHEL. Sh-h! He's one of the men I've promised.

FANSHAW. [_Laughing._] Never mind. I'm the other. [_All laugh._ GERTRUDE _says_, "Oh, Ethel!" GERTRUDE _goes toward_ MARION, ETHEL _and_ KITTY _at same time._ MARION _exits._

FANSHAW. [_To_ TRIMMINS.] Who are you dancing the cotillon with, Trimmins?

TRIMMINS. Ethel Stevens!

FANSHAW. Who?

TRIMMINS. Ethel Stevens!

FANSHAW. I'll bet a fiver you're not. She's dancing with me.

TRIMMINS. [_Very pleased._] Delighted! I owe you the five with joy. [_Rushes_ FANSHAW _out of the way. Crossing to_ GERTRUDE.] Will you give me the pleasure? [DOUGLAS _out at back, exits._] Thank you. [_Offers his arm, which_ GERTRUDE _takes, and they go out at back._

FANSHAW. Well!

MARION. Are you going to stand perfectly still and be robbed in that manner? [_Laughing._

FANSHAW. Well, but what am I-- [_Interrupted by one of the girl guests, who says_, "I'm here!"] Oh, so you are. [_Puts his arm in hers, and they run off together._

ETHEL. Marion, isn't Mr. Ned Fletcher coming to-night?

MARION. Yes. [_Exit._

KITTY. I'm so glad; he's quite the most amusing man in town this winter. [_Sitting on chair which servant left._

ETHEL. And so many people won't ask him to their houses, you know. Mamma won't.

KITTY. Well, you know, your mother's a ridiculous person; she asks lots of awfully fast men!

ETHEL. Yes, but they are all relatives.

KITTY. [_Putting arm around_ ETHEL, _pricks her finger._] I don't believe Net Fletcher is as bad as people hint. He's too good looking. [_Fixing dress._

ETHEL. And I don't care whether he's bad or not, he's charming enough to make up for it. Besides, I suppose all men are bad.

KITTY. Oh--I don't know.

ETHEL. I mean all nice men.

KITTY. Where has Mr. Fletcher been before this winter?

ETHEL. My dear, he's one of those men who live all over the place--most of the time in Europe--but he's been here always off and on--and in Newport and in Lenox he has yachts and things, don't you know! [_Exits down right._

MARION. [_Enters._] Girls, will you go into the ball-room, till the men get the tables ready here? [_She speaks aside to one of the servants, and exits. Servants bring on small table and place it with bottles, lunch, etc., a broken glass covered with napkins to fall on stage. Place seven chairs about table. Exit._

ETHEL. _Of course._ [_To_ KITTY, _crossing to her._] Do you notice how she won't talk about Fletcher and won't listen to any one else either?

KITTY. My dear, she's heels over head.

ETHEL. Poor Douglas Rhodes! [_Half smiling, in part satire._

KITTY. Serves him right for hanging around her all his life! Why didn't he flirt with one of us girls for a time, if only to make her jealous! [ETHEL _sees_ DOUGLAS _enter, and tries to warn_ KITTY. ETHEL _gives_ KITTY _a violent pull of the arm to warn her to stop speaking of_ DOUGLAS.

ETHEL. [_To_ DOUGLAS.] You can't stay here; we're driven out.

KITTY. Come, help us make fun of the other people.

DOUGLAS. In a few minutes. I must give you a chance to make fun of me!

KITTY. Oh, we've been doing that for years! [_ETHEL blows DOUGLAS' whistle which he has suspended from neck, pulling it out of his pocket. ETHEL and KITTY smile coquettishly at DOUGLAS and exit into ball-room, arm in arm. Distant music off stage. DOUGLAS follows up centre. A pause. Enter MARION. DOUGLAS, up stage, looks admiringly at her, and smiles. Then, smiling and putting himself into a boyish attitude, he says boyishly._

DOUGLAS. Hello, Molly!

MARION. [_Smiling back, catching his mood, speaks girlishly._] Hello, Dug! It does take one back to old days, doesn't it!

DOUGLAS. That was what I was thinking of, Marion, the days of dancing-school. How good you were to always be my partner, even though I couldn't reverse without treading on your toes!

MARION. [_Smiling._] You were a bad dancer--and death to slippers.

DOUGLAS. And the children's parties, with the old games, "Post Office," "Copenhagen," "Kiss in the Ring."

MARION. [_Smiling mischievously._] You were good enough at "Kiss in the Ring" to make up for your not reversing.

DOUGLAS. [_With real sentiment, crosses to her._] Do you remember it all as well as I do?

MARION. [_Realizing his sentiment, and trying to change their mood, but pleasantly._] Of course I do! We were great friends then, as we are now, and as I hope we always will be, Douglas.

DOUGLAS. But if we played the old games again, would it be the same?

MARION. No, no, things are never the same.

DOUGLAS. But would you let me choose you always? Would you pretend not to see me coming, so I could slap your hands on the Copenhagen rope and take my reward? If we played "Post Office," would _I_ have all my letters from _your_ lips! Would you mind if, in "bow to the wittiest, kneel to the prettiest, and kiss the one you loved best," I choose you again, openly, for all three? Would you give me _all_ your dances?

MARION. [_More serious, though still smiling kindly, sweetly._] That's just it, Douglas! You can reverse now, and there are so many other girls wanting partners!

DOUGLAS. But-- [_Interrupted._

MARION. Besides, after all, we're only children _outside_ to-night; our _hearts_ have come of age!

DOUGLAS. Yes, Marion, but, boy's and man's, my heart's the same. I want the same partner I did then, only I want her for the game of life!

MARION. I am so sorry!

DOUGLAS. Sorry? Then you won't let your hands lie on the rope for me any more?

MARION. I am very fond of you, Douglas, and I always was, but-- [_She hesitates._

DOUGLAS. [_A little bitterly, disappointed._] I know what you mean. I was all right for dancing-school, but life is a more serious matter-- [_MARION goes to chair and sits down._] I know I'm not like you, Marion--I know what an intellectual woman you are, and what an ordinary sort of fellow I am. But I _love_ you! and I hoped-- [_He breaks off and continues with his first idea._] You went to a woman's college, and I _only_ to a _man's_--You made a study of sociology--I, [_Smiling._] principally of athletics. I know I never read books, and you seem to read everything. But I love you. You have your clubs for working girls, your charities; I know the busy, helpful life you lead. You have so much in it, I was in hopes that what room was left for a _husband_ was so little, even _I_ could fill it. And somehow or other I've always taken it for granted you more or less understood, and were--willing.

MARION. I was--once--

DOUGLAS. You were?

MARION. There was no one in the world I liked so much to be with as you, and I think I, too, believed my happiness was in your hands, and that some day we would decide together it was so. But I lately-- [_She hesitates._

DOUGLAS. Some one else?

MARION. I don't like you one bit less, Douglas, only-- [_Rises._

DOUGLAS. Only you liked some one else more! I was afraid so. I've heard whispers and guesses--

MARION. Don't let it make any difference with _us_, Douglas!

DOUGLAS. You love him?

MARION. Yes.

DOUGLAS. Very much?

MARION. You see, every one is against him, and I feel that I have a chance to save him.

DOUGLAS. You believe in him?

MARION. [_Shortly._] Yes.

DOUGLAS. Would you believe anything against him?

MARION. [_On the defensive, indignant._] _No!_

DOUGLAS. If some one told you of something dishonourable this man had done?

MARION. I would suspect the motive of the person who told me. Do you think I haven't heard plenty of gossip against him? Every girl I know has done her best to take away his character, and _begged me to introduce him to her_ in the same breath.

DOUGLAS. And if I spoke against him?

MARION. [_Leaning on back of chair._] I know I couldn't help it, after what you have told me; I should have to feel you might be influenced by jealousy.

DOUGLAS. To _unjustly_ accuse a man?

MARION. Oh, Douglas, no, of course you would believe what you said, but I wouldn't trust your judgment. Don't I know every one is down on him. Even you men; are all the men in New York so proud of their past lives--not to mention the _present_ of several I know?--Well, if men turn a cold shoulder, then we women must give him our hands.

DOUGLAS. You girls don't understand.

MARION. Oh, girls understand a good deal nowadays. Society and some of the newspapers attend to that. He doesn't pretend to be a saint to me--I find him perfectly frank--and I am afraid he has been rather fast! But I don't believe he is capable of an outright dishonourable action, and nothing would make me believe it!

DOUGLAS. No proof?

MARION. Only the proof of my own eyes. When I see him do something contemptible, then I'll believe _half_ the stories I hear of him! [_Moving a little up centre._

DOUGLAS. I see you _do_ love him.

MARION. I do, though you are the only person I have confessed it to,--not even to him--and forgive me, [_Down a little._] but I never liked you less than I do now when you have spoken against him. [_Up to arch._

DOUGLAS. [_Following her._] No, tell me you will forget it, and keep me the same old friend, and I'll promise not to speak against him to you again.

MARION. [_Smiling._] Very well-- [_They shake hands._] Why, I want you two to be the best of friends--you _must_ be--

DOUGLAS. [_Also smiling._] Oh, I don't promise that--I haven't given you up yet, and I sha'n't until--

MARION. [_Smiling._] When--?

DOUGLAS. [_Smiling._] Until I see you going into the church to be married.

MARION. You'll say nothing more against Ned?

DOUGLAS. Not to you. [_Moving down, right centre._

MARION. Oh, but you will to others? [_Follows._

DOUGLAS. I will say what I have to say to--_him._

MARION. To _him?_

_Enter_ MRS. WOLTON _and_ FLETCHER. FLETCHER _is dressed in dark sailor clothes._

MRS. WOLTON. Marion, here's another little boy. [MARION _turns and greets_ FLETCHER, _going to him._ DOUGLAS _and_ FLETCHER _see each other and say_ "Good evening" _pleasantly._

MARION. It's too bad you missed the vaudeville.

FLETCHER. Did _you_ do anything. [MARION _laughs and exits with_ FLETCHER.

DOUGLAS _turns around quickly, annoyed, to speak to_ MRS. WOLTON, _but, in his quick turning and in his movement of annoyance, keeping his eyes on_ MARION _and_ FLETCHER, _he has struck glasses and a bottle on the little supper-table beside them. They crash on the floor. He and_ MRS. WOLTON _both start._

DOUGLAS. Oh! Mrs. Wolton, forgive me; how clumsy! [_Starts to pick up._

MRS. WOLTON. No, never mind. [_As_ SERVANT _enters_.] Here is Howes-- [_To_ SERVANT.] Howes, see to this, please, at once.

SERVANT. Yes, m'm. Please, Mr. Dawson is here to see Mr. Wolton.

MRS. WOLTON. Mr. Dawson, my brother! Why, he's in Boston, Howes.

SERVANT. Beg pardon, m'm, but he must have returned to-day. Most important, he says, m'm. Where shall I show him? The ladies and gentlemen are playing "Blind Man's Buff" in Mr. Wolton's room.

MRS. WOLTON. This is the quietest place. Show Mr. Dawson in here. Where is Mr. Wolton?

SERVANT. [_Trying not to smile._] He's blind-folded, m'm!

MRS. WOLTON. [_Smiling._] Tell him.

SERVANT. Yes, m'm. [_Exits._

DOUGLAS. Shall we join the game?

MRS. WOLTON. Yes, come, I will take Mr. Wolton's place! I haven't played Blind Man's Buff for-- [_She calculates a moment, and then speaks amusedly._] Good gracious!--_never mind how many years_!!

DOUGLAS. Oh, not so many as all that, I am sure! [_They go out at back._

_Enter_ SERVANT _with_ DAWSON _in cutaway coat and vest and usual trousers._ SERVANT _at once begins to pick up the debris made by_ DOUGLAS.

DAWSON. What's going on here, Howes?

SERVANT. A children's party, sir.

DAWSON. A what?

SERVANT. A children's party, sir.

DAWSON. Who are the children?

SERVANT. Mr. Wolton and Miss Wolton, sir, and her friends. Mr. Wolton's playing games now, sir, but he said he would join you in a minute.

DAWSON. [_Out loud, involuntarily, but speaking to himself--very seriously, almost tragically._] Playing games! My God!

SERVANT. Yes, sir--one don't know what rich folks'll do next, sir. _We're_ in hopes, in the kitchen, they'll take to pretending they're the servants, sir, and turn us loose in the ball-room. [_Smiling. Exits._

DAWSON. [_Who hardly hears_ SERVANT.] Playing games, with ruin and disgrace staring him in the face. [_Enter_ MR. WOLTON.

MR. WOLTON. [_Flushed and gay--an elderly man in knickerbockers and evening coat, a sort of English Court costume. The handkerchief, which was tied around his eyes in the game, has slipped, and lies about his neck._] Well, Fred, what's the good news?

DAWSON. The worst there could be!

MR. WOLTON. [_Half whispers._] What do you mean!!

DAWSON. [_Dragging off the Blind Man's Buff handkerchief from_ WOLTON'S _neck_.] What do you mean by going in for all this tomfoolery, to-night, with ruin and disgrace ready for you in the morning?

MR. WOLTON. So soon--?

DAWSON. How much longer did you think you could stave it off?

MR. WOLTON. [_Sinks exhausted into a chair._] I didn't know.

DAWSON. Why didn't you tell me your credit was as exhausted in Boston as here? [_Taking chair from table, and sitting right of_ WOLTON.

MR. WOLTON. I thought, with you doing the negotiating, it mightn't be!

DAWSON. Well, it is; do you hear me, you haven't any such thing as _credit there_ nor _here!_ nor anywhere, for aught I know! To-morrow is the last day of grace. Your sister-in-law has to pay this money?

MR. WOLTON. Yes.

DAWSON. What did you let her buy that house for?

MR. WOLTON. [_Testily._] How could I help it! My brother didn't appoint me her guardian! He simply left her money in trust in my hands!

DAWSON. "In trust in your hands!" [_Laughs cruelly._

MR. WOLTON. Don't do that!

DAWSON. And you speculated with it, and lost every cent!

MR. WOLTON. Yes.

DAWSON. What a scoundrel you are! [WOLTON _squirms miserably in his chair._ DAWSON _adds quietly_.] And yet I don't suppose there's at this moment a more popular man in New York, socially, than you.

MR. WOLTON. No, I don't believe there is!--but a damned lot of good it does me!

DAWSON. Will your sister-in-law accept her ruin quietly?

MR. WOLTON. No, she's never liked me; she'll take pleasure in exposing me!

DAWSON. But for your _wife_ and _child's_ sake!

MR. WOLTON. You know very well she _hates them_! They have never taken her up; she wasn't possible, socially. [DAWSON _laughs again bitterly_.] _Don't_ do that!

DAWSON. Well, then, after ruining yourself and your brother's wife, you must ruin your _own_!

MR. WOLTON. [_Alarmed, uneasy_.] What do you mean?

DAWSON. I mean that my sister's own money is enough to pay for your sister's silence. Don't you understand? Your sister mustn't know, of course, that you've stolen her fortune. Instead, your wife must be told,--poor Laura--and for her daughter's sake, she must consent to beggar herself. Her bonds will about meet the payment of the house to-morrow--they must be sold the first thing--I will see to it.---- [_As he speaks, he is looking_ WOLTON _straight in the face. Something in_ WOLTON'S _face grows upon him with conviction as he speaks his last few words. He breaks off suddenly_.] What! you've taken hers, too! [_He leans over_ WOLTON _in the chair, his hands on his shoulders, close to his neck, in a rage. Rises._] You've beggared _my sister_, your wife and child! You-- [_Interrupted._

MR. WOLTON. [_With a big effort, rises, throwing off_ DAWSON'S _hands_.] Sh!--For God's sake, lower your voice! You'll be heard!

DAWSON. [_With a change of tone, but speaking with utter contempt_.] By a couple hundred fools! To-morrow _thousands_ will hear of your dirty dishonour!! [_Going toward right a little_.

MR. WOLTON. [_To_ DAWSON.] But _you_, you have money--won't you come to my rescue?

DAWSON. I couldn't if I would. You have borrowed half a fortune of me already. What I have left must go to take care of my sister and niece. Do you think I'd support _you_! No, the _State_ will do that.

MR. WOLTON. That!! You'd let me go to--?

DAWSON. You'll get twenty years at least!

MR. WOLTON. You won't help me _escape_!

DAWSON. No.

MR. WOLTON. But Laura? she loves me, and Marion. _They_ will suffer for me; I may be weakly dishonourable, but I've always loved them, and they me. Besides, any public dishonour which comes to my name must touch theirs too.

DAWSON. I'm not so sure about that--I think there is material for a divorce here.

MR. WOLTON. A divorce! My God, must I lose everything! Show a little pity, Fred! Remember the old days at school; was I a bad boy? We were chums for years, you know it!--You were my best man when I married Laura, and you were the gayest at the wedding! It's only been this curse of gambling with the stocks that has driven me to the devil,--that and my cursed luck.

DAWSON. _Luck_ has nothing to do with _honour_.

MR. WOLTON. You don't know--oftener than you think, it has everything! [_Enter_ SERVANT.

SERVANT. Supper is ready, sir. Can we have this room?

DAWSON. Yes, Howes, I'm going!

SERVANT. Thank you, sir. [_Exits._

MR. WOLTON. Give me a word of hope, Fred!--something! What are you going to do?

DAWSON. Nothing till to-morrow morning.

MR. WOLTON. And that's all you have to say?

DAWSON. All. [_The two men stand looking at each other a moment in a sort of grim embarrassment, then_ DAWSON _exits. Music. It must be evident to the audience, though not to the hysterically excited_ WOLTON, _that_ DAWSON _has a little, a very little, pity, but doesn't wish to show it,--at any rate not yet_. WOLTON, _who has stood a moment lost in thought, an expression of despair in his face, shudders and comes to himself. He looks around to see that he is alone. He grasps his forehead tight a moment in his right hand, drops his hand, and with compressed lips nods his head determinedly. He is standing by one of the smaller supper-tables; he looks down at it and takes up a silver knife at one of the places, feels its dull edge, and throws it down sneering. A_ SERVANT _appears_.

MR. WOLTON. Howes?

SERVANT. [_Coming into the room and going to_ WOLTON.] Yes, sir.

MR. WOLTON. I am going up to my room. [_With a motion of his head, indicating upstairs._] I am not feeling well. If my absence should be noticed, explain to Mrs. Wolton, but do not disturb me--do you understand?

SERVANT. Yes, sir.

MR. WOLTON. _On no account am I to be disturbed._ No one is to come to me until _after_ the party is entirely over. _Don't make any mistake about that._

SERVANT. No, sir.

WOLTON, _who is half way between centre and door right, turns for a moment, looking about the room. He is seized with a nervous twitching of his muscles. He clenches his fists, grinds his teeth to control himself, and, bowing his head, goes from the room by door_. KITTY _and_ JOHNSTONE _appear in ball-room doorway, at exit of_ WOLTON.

KITTY. [_Looking into room on stage._] Here's a dear table, all by itself. [_Speaks as she appears in the doorway. The two turn and look off right at_ ETHEL _and_ FANSHAW _who are following them slowly_.

JOHNSTONE. Come along, Fanshaw, here's a lovely, quiet table, where we can say just what we like about everybody! [_They stand in doorway a moment, looking off right, waiting for the other couple with their backs to_ WOLTON _and room_. ETHEL _and_ FANSHAW _join the first couple, and all come forward, speaking. The following speeches are made as they come forward to table_.

JOHNSTONE. [_To_ FANSHAW _and_ ETHEL.] How you dawdle.

ETHEL. Jack Wright tore my lace.

FANSHAW. Trying to kiss her in Copenhagen. [_They are about the table._ JOHNSTONE _at once sits down first in the chair the_ SERVANT _was holding for one of the ladies_. SERVANT _then opens a bottle of champagne and pours in the glasses_.

JOHNSTONE. [_Sitting._] Come on.

KITTY. Look at him!

ETHEL. What a rude little beast you are, Johnny!

FANSHAW. Get up! [_Pushing him._

JOHNSTONE. Well, you girls dawdle so! [KITTY _and_ ETHEL _sit. Enter_ MRS. LORRIMER _from ball-room, dressed as a Watteau Shepherdess. She is greeted by a chorus of four. Carries lamb and crook._

ETHEL, KITTY, JOHNSTONE, FANSHAW. Oh, look at Mrs. Lorrimer!

MRS. LORRIMER. [_Pirouettes once around, and makes a bob curtsy._] Good evening. [_Laughing._] Well, I don't want to throw bouquets at myself, but I don't think it's bad.

ETHEL _and_ KITTY. You're splendid!

JOHNSTONE. Love---- [_Sits._]

KITTY. Get Mrs. Lorrimer a chair. [_They all move to make more room for her, and_ FANSHAW _gets an extra chair from arch_.

MRS. LORRIMER. I'm afraid I'm a fifth spoke in your wheel! [_She sits. A_ SERVANT _passes them bouillon which they take and eat._

ETHEL. Don't be foolish; girls at a ball nowadays can't expect to have a man apiece. [JOHNSTONE _lights a cigarette and smokes. A_ SERVANT _in ball-room is seen taking away the bouillon cups, while a second passes Bouches à la Reine there._ FANSHAW _sits above_ ETHEL _left of table, after taking lamb and crook from_ MRS. LORRIMER _and placing them down left corner_.

MRS. LORRIMER. How is the party?

JOHNSTONE. Awfully lovely party!

KITTY. A tearing success!

ETHEL. You ought to have seen the vaudeville!

MRS. LORRIMER. How did your stunt go, Ethel?

FANSHAW. Great.

ETHEL. Oh, my dear, a brute of a flute player ruined it. I felt like thirty cents.

FANSHAW. No one could spend much more money on a party than old Wolton is doing to-night.

MRS. LORRIMER. Does Marion show her age in a child's dress?

KITTY. She looks charmingly, but then Marion isn't so old.

ETHEL. Perhaps not so old as she usually looks.

JOHNSTONE. Aren't you a Kitty cat?

MRS. LORRIMER. Why doesn't she paint a little?

JOHNSTONE. What!

KITTY. _Marion?_ Paint! Her _face_!

ETHEL. My dear, she'd die first! [_All laugh, saying_ "Marion".

MRS. LORRIMER. [_Grandiloquently._] Not that I approve of painting! [_Music stops._

ALL. [_Laughing._] Oh, no!

ETHEL. Nor I!

ALL. [_Laughing._] Oh, no!

MRS. LORRIMER. Who's here?

JOHNSTONE. Everybody.

MRS. LORRIMER. Anyone I can marry?

KITTY. Oh, Mrs. Lorrimer, do be decent. You haven't been divorced a year yet.

MRS. LORRIMER. My dear, divorce isn't like death--you don't have to go into mourning! Besides, that's what I want to get married for! I find I've a perfect passion for divorce! Just like men have it for drink. The more I get the more I want! [_Laugh._] I've only had two divorces, and I want another!

JOHNSTONE. You must be damned careful--I beg your pardon--

MRS. LORRIMER. Oh, don't apologize, I say it myself!--careful about what?

JOHNSTONE. What sort of _husband you choose_.

MRS. LORRIMER. Exactly! None of your _ideal_ men for me! I want a man with a bad record! [_Laugh._] Plenty of proof concealed about his person, or not buried too deep in his past for me and my lawyer to ferret out. I've a perfect duck of a lawyer! He made up every bit of evidence about my last husband; that won me my case, and, my dears, it just _happened_ to turn out to be true! [_Laugh._

ETHEL. Speaking of records, who do you think is here to-night?

MRS. LORRIMER. _Ned_ Fletcher--!!

KITTY. Yes.

MRS. LORRIMER. Girls--I'll tell you a secret--

JOHNSTONE. I don't want to hear it. [_Takes a chair left centre, sits and lights cigarette._

MRS. LORRIMER. I'm crazy about him! Where is he? [_Glancing over her shoulder._

KITTY. You've no chance; he's going to marry Marion, if she'll have him.

MRS. LORRIMER. What a shame! And will she?

ETHEL. She's mad about him!

MRS. LORRIMER. The moth and the flame! What a pity! because he'd be simply ideal for me! Why, do you know I hear that he-- [_Stops suddenly, looking at_ JOHNSTONE _and_ FANSHAW.

JOHNSTONE. What do you hear? I'm in this.

MRS. LORRIMER. I forgot Johnny and Mr. Fanshaw--there are certain things you mustn't talk about before innocent little boys!

FANSHAW. You couldn't tell _us anything about Ned Fletcher_!

MRS. LORRIMER. [_Laughing._] I don't want to! But I thought Marion was always going to marry Douglas Rhodes.

KITTY. Oh, that's all off now. It's Ned Fletcher or nothing with Marion.

ETHEL. [_Laughing_.] I believe she thinks she's going to reform him! [_All laugh._

KITTY. There's one thing, he isn't after Marion's money.

ETHEL. Is he so rich?

JOHNSTONE. Oh, rotten! [KITTY _slaps_ JOHNSTONE.

MRS. LORRIMER. Very well, do you know what I shall do? I shall take Douglas.

ETHEL. [_Hastily._] Yes, catch his heart on the rebound; they say it's easier that way!

JOHNSTONE. That's one on you, Mrs. Lorrimer. [_Party gag._]

MRS. LORRIMER. Oh, I'm not so very old, and have had two splendid husbands already. I don't think I have to bother about the easiest way.

JOHNSTONE. Philopene, Ethel? That's one on _you_.

MRS. LORRIMER. Has it been your method, my dear, because if so I can't congratulate you on the result. You must look out for a stronger rebound next time! Try a divorced man; I hear they come back with a terrific force! I'll be generous; try one of mine. [_All laugh. As they stop laughing there is the sound of something heavy falling in the room above. The chandelier trembles slightly, the lustres sound. All four lift their heads and listen a moment. A short pause._

KITTY. What was that!

MRS. LORRIMER. The servants probably, upstairs! [_Enter_ MARION _from ball-room, smiling at the table of people as she passes_.

JOHNSTONE. [_As she comes._] Here's Miss Wolton.

MRS. LORRIMER. My dear Marion, pardon me for not rising, but I assure you I look much better sitting down! [MARION _stops by_ MRS. LORRIMER.

JOHNSTONE. Not at all, Mrs. Lorrimer, they're awfully lovely!

MRS. LORRIMER. Well, I'm sure they don't compare with yours.

JOHNSTONE. Oh, I don't know, there are others. [MARION _goes down centre_.

MRS. LORRIMER. Marion, is Mr. Dawson here?

MARION. No, he's in Boston.--Why?

MRS. LORRIMER. Oh, nothing, only he's an unmarried man, so I thought I'd ask. [SERVANT _in ball-room takes away plates, and second_ SERVANT _passes ices_.

MARION. [_To_ MRS. LORRIMER.] Why are you so late, Emily? [_Back to_ MRS. LORRIMER.

MRS. LORRIMER. My little girl was seedy, and I couldn't get away until I saw her asleep comfortably. It's an awful care for a young woman, my dear, having a _posthumous_ child!

MARION. A what?

MRS. LORRIMER. A _posthumous_ child!

MARION. [_Laughing._] _How do you mean, Emily?_

MRS. LORRIMER. Why, born after it's father's divorce!

MARION. Are you girls going to have coffee?

MRS. LORRIMER. No.

ETHEL. Nor I.

MARION. Very well, then; join us for another game-- [_She makes a movement of starting._] Unless you men want to smoke. In that case, take your coffee in the library, where you'll find cigarettes and other smoking materials.

JOHNSTONE. [_Who has a cigarette in his mouth, and has been smoking all through the supper._] I say! Oughtn't I to have smoked here?

MARION. [_Smiling._] No! [_She starts to go out through ball-room._

JOHNSTONE. I beg your pardon. Well, any way it's an awfully lovely party.

MRS. LORRIMER. Marion, is it true you're going to be divorced--I mean married?

MARION. [_By doorway._] Married? I hope so, some day. [_Smiling, exits into ball-room._ JOHNSTONE _is eating ice_. MRS. LORRIMER _crosses to him_. KITTY _in front of table_. ETHEL _takes up lamb_. FANSHAW _exits._

MRS. LORRIMER. Haven't you finished your ice, Johnny?

JOHNSTONE. No. I like to squash mine all up, and eat it soft.

MRS. LORRIMER. Johnny, who made your bow?

JOHNSTONE. Mother. [KITTY _drives_ JOHNNY _out of room by hitting him with her ball_. MRS. LORRIMER _crosses to_ ETHEL _and takes lamb_.

ETHEL. [_Who has looked back over her shoulder into the ball-room, goes up to arch_.] Mr. Fletcher has joined Marion.

MRS. LORRIMER. Oh, that's why Marion wished us to hurry! She wanted this room for herself and Fletcher!

ETHEL. _Probably._

MRS. LORRIMER. Let's go--as if we were gone for good, and then stroll back _casually_ in a few minutes, and see how we find them!

KITTY. Isn't that eavesdropping?

MRS. LORRIMER. Don't be absurd! There isn't any such thing as eavesdropping nowadays. Everybody listens to everything they can, and everyone more or less knows they're being listened to.

KITTY. But what good will it do?

MRS. LORRIMER. Why, if we--come back and catch them with his arm around her, we can take it for granted they are engaged.

ETHEL. I don't think that follows. I'm sure if I were engaged to every man I let-- [_She stops quickly. All laugh._

KITTY. [_Laughing._] You gave yourself away that time, Ethel! [_They move out by door into ball-room. As they do so_, SERVANT _enters from right, and_ MARION _enters, meeting girls and_ MRS. LORRIMER.

MARION. Going to dance?--

GIRLS. Yes.

MRS. LORRIMER. No, play games. Kissing games. [_All laugh and exeunt._

MARION. Oh, Mrs. Lorrimer! [_Enter_ FLETCHER.

FLETCHER. Why did you run away?

MARION. I was afraid if I didn't the servants would never get this room ready.

FLETCHER. Have you a partner?

MARION. No.

FLETCHER. [_Pleased to be with her and yet embarrassed._] May I--will you--that is--won't you dance with me?

MARION. Yes.

FLETCHER. [_Near her._] I wonder why I feel so diffident with you. I think I never was diffident before! [_Smiling._

MARION. [_Smiling._] No, you haven't that reputation.

FLETCHER. [_Smiling apologetically, but humourously._] Dear me, I hope you don't know what my reputation isn't--or _is_.

MARION. [_Seriously._] I don't judge a man by his reputation.

FLETCHER. [_Involuntarily half under his breath, humourously._] Thank heaven! [MARION _looks at him, hearing him. There is a pause. She waits willingly for him to speak, hoping he will._] I've been a very bad fellow.

MARION. Some of the best men in the world have begun that way.

FLETCHER. They probably had some one to help--to believe in them.

MARION. And haven't you?

FLETCHER. Will you believe in me enough to-- [_Looks off in ball-room up a little_; MARION _follows. He loses his control and speaks passionately._] Don't you understand,--I love you-- [_He embraces her; she allows him. The embrace lasts a moment._] You can be my salvation! Will you be?

MARION. [_In his arms, looking up at him._] I will--if I can--

FLETCHER. [_Whose eyes never quite look into_ MARION'S, _loosening the embrace._] You will marry me?

MARION. Yes. [_Kisses him, then quickly moves down right._

FLETCHER. [_Following her. Not looking at her._] People say I'm a blackguard!

MARION. People say a great many things that aren't true. What can a man do with all the world against him! "People" can force him into being as bad as they say he is.

FLETCHER. Then you won't believe them.

MARION. No, not if you deny what they say. [_He holds out his hand; she takes it. At this moment_, MRS. LORRIMER _and_ ETHEL _appear in ball-room, ostentatiously counting the chairs and making small calculation about the cotillion, but really watching slyly_ MARION _and_ FLETCHER. MARION _sees it and speaks to_ FLETCHER _quickly under her breath._] Don't move! Don't drop my hand, but shake it as if we'd been making a bet, and follow my lead! [_Aloud._] It's settled then! You take my bet?

FLETCHER. [_Shaking her hand and then dropping it casually._ A box of cigars, against a box of gloves! [_Sotto voce._] What is it?

MARION [_Sotto voce._] Mrs. Lorrimer in the next room watching us. [_Speaks in low voce satirically to_ FLETCHER _as if she were speaking to_ MRS. LORRIMER.] Oh, no, Emily! I am going to marry Mr. Fletcher, but _I_ intend to be the one to announce that fact, and not you. [MRS. LORRIMER _and_ ETHEL _turn. They see_ MARION _and_ FLETCHER _and pretend surprise; they remain in the ball-room._]

MRS. LORRIMER. [_With trumpet._] Oh! Marion! are _you_ here?

MARION. Ahem! [_With a quick, amused side glance to_ FLETCHER.] We've been watching you for some time; what was the matter with the chairs?

MRS. LORRIMER [_Embarrassed._] Nothing--we were merely choosing places!

ETHEL. They lead from the other end, don't they? [_Joining_ FLETCHER.

MARION. Yes, you know Kitty is leading for me. [_Enter_ DOUGLAS. _He joins them._] Who are you dancing with, Douglas?

DOUGLAS. No one; I'm stagging it.

MRS. LORRIMER You don't mean to say, Marion, you have more men than women to-night!

MARION. [_With mock pride._] Who says I don't know how to give a party?

MRS. LORRIMER [_To_ DOUGLAS.] Damn it! I wish I hadn't said I'd dance with little Johnny, or I'd come to your rescue. [DOUGLAS, _secretly amused, bows his thanks._ ETHEL _and_ MARION _exchange an amused glance._

ETHEL. [_To_ MARION.] Douglas ought to give Johnny a vote of thanks.

MARION. Come, they are taking their places. [_A movement of all to go off._ DOUGLAS _touches_ FLETCHER _on the arm._

DOUGLAS. [_To_ FLETCHER.] May I speak to you just a moment?

FLETCHER. Certainly-- [_All go but_ MARION.] Excuse me one moment, Miss Wolton,--Rhodes wants a word with me. [MARION _starts slightly, and, turning quickly, looks questioningly at_ DOUGLAS. _He answers her gaze seriously and unflinchingly. She turns to_ FLETCHER.

MARION. [_To_ FLETCHER.] No--I won't excuse you. [_Assuming a more or less coquettish air._] You must come with me at once. [FLETCHER _looks surprised, but moves as if to obey her_.

DOUGLAS. But why won't you trust Mr. Fletcher with me? [FLETCHER _laughs amused_.

MARION. [_Nonplussed for a moment; then she changes her mind._] I was only jesting. [_To_ FLETCHER.] But you won't-- [_To_ DOUGLAS, _looking at him meaningly and seriously._] --keep us waiting long, will you? I warn you, Mr. Fletcher, I shall let them begin without us. [_Exits through ball-room as_ FLETCHER _quickly kisses her hand._ DOUGLAS _waits till they are quite alone._ FLETCHER _moves down right_.

DOUGLAS. [_Following. Quietly._] Are you going to ask Miss Wolton to marry you?

FLETCHER. I am not.

DOUGLAS. [_Momentary surprise--doubt, then relief--a sigh._] In that case I've nothing more to say; let's join the others. [_Both make a move to go._

FLETCHER. [_Who cannot resist saying it._] You see, Rhodes, I _have_ asked her already.

DOUGLAS. [_Stops and, turning, faces_ FLETCHER, _whose back is toward audience._]

FLETCHER. [_Turning leisurely._] About fifteen minutes ago--but I can't see what business it is of yours.

DOUGLAS. I love her.

FLETCHER. That's no news to anybody!

DOUGLAS. And I don't intend she shall marry a-- [_He stops. Short pause._

FLETCHER. What? Why don't you finish?

DOUGLAS. [_More quietly._] A man like you.

FLETCHER. Oh, I'm not so very unique; lots of girls run the risk of marrying a man like me!

DOUGLAS. I suppose you told her she is more to you than any one in the world.

FLETCHER. No. "Men like me" don't talk that rot. I put my arms around her-- [_Stops, interrupted by the movement of_ DOUGLAS, _expressive of rage, controlled instantaneously; he clenches his fists. Finishes with a half-smile at_ DOUGLAS.] And told her I loved her.

DOUGLAS. [_Suppressed anger._] You _couldn't_ say she was more than any one else to you, because it would have been a lie!

FLETCHER. [_Smiling._] You flatter me. [_Crosses to left._

DOUGLAS. The one that is _most_ to _you_ is YOUR CHILD. [FLETCHER _starts; is surprised_.] You can't deny the child--

FLETCHER. I "can!" I can deny anything.

DOUGLAS. The lie could be proved to your face. In May, 1893, at Lenox, a young kindergarten teacher,--you blackguard, you!

FLETCHER. [_A little angry._] Who told you that story?

DOUGLAS. [_Sneers._] I'm not the only man who knows it! That sort of thing never lies buried!

FLETCHER. The girl's all right now!

DOUGLAS. Oh, I know, you sent her abroad, and pay for the child. Well, that's the mother's lookout, and not mine. But I don't believe she's the only case. One has only to look at your life now.--It was fortunate for you this winter that Mrs. Clipton's divorce trial didn't come off.

FLETCHER. [_A little more angry. Back to_ DOUGLAS.] Still, what has all this to do with you, and I'll deny it all besides, if I feel like it, or need to.

DOUGLAS. You know you're not fit to marry Marion Wolton!

FLETCHER. I know I love her.

DOUGLAS. For how long?

FLETCHER. I can't say, but neither can you.--And besides, _she loves me_!

DOUGLAS. Would she if she knew you?

FLETCHER. [_Smilingly._] Oh, come, Rhodes, drop it! I don't care a damn what I have done. I'm going to marry her! I haven't made any bones about myself. I've told her I've been a bad lot!

DOUGLAS. Oh, yes, I know, you've confessed probably to having been "fast;" that nearly always appeals to a woman, heaven knows why; I suppose it's the instinct for reformation in them. But how much of your life does that word "fast" convey to a pure girl like Marion?

FLETCHER. [_Smiling._] Quite enough! [_Serious._] But if she did know all there was to be known, Love forgives a great deal.

DOUGLAS. But not _everything_. There are certain things Marion would never accept. She would refuse to take the place that was the right of another.

FLETCHER. [_Down to him._] Oh, that's your point, is it! Well, hunt out Jeannette Gros if you can; it'll do you no good! [_Crosses._

DOUGLAS. [_Follows quickly. Angry._] You can't prove that, because it's _not true_!

FLETCHER. [_Facing_ DOUGLAS. _Angry too._] I'll prove she had other lovers before me. Good God, man, you don't know what Marion Wolton's love means to me! I've never loved like this before! Why, if it were possible for me to treat her as I have--the other, I _couldn't_. I want to marry Marion Wolton--I _want_ to make _her my wife!_ and I _will!_ I've had all there can be got out of my old life, and I'm sick of it. Here's my chance at a new life, and do you think I'm going to give it up? No! [_Forgetting and raising his voice._] Do you hear me, No!!

DOUGLAS. [_Softly._] Not so loud!

FLETCHER. [_Lowered voice._] No! I'll fight for it with my last breath.

DOUGLAS. Then I say again, you're a blackguard!

FLETCHER. [_Laughs, turns back to audience._] What do you want to do, fight? You know we can't here. I give you liberty to say to her all you can against me.

DOUGLAS. She won't believe me.

FLETCHER. Exactly--she loves me--

DOUGLAS. But there is one other I can tell the truth to, who may believe me.

FLETCHER. Look out you don't make yourself ridiculous, going about--the jilted lover, trying to take away the character of the accepted man! [_Leisurely following him a little._

DOUGLAS. I don't have to do any "going about!" You are well enough known in our world to keep most of our doors closed against you. Few people are as blind as the Woltons, and I will open _his_ eyes!

FLETCHER. You'll tell her father?

DOUGLAS. He is the one person she would listen to, and he can verify what I say.

FLETCHER. [_Change of tone, showing he fears this._] Damn it! I mean to be a decent man.

DOUGLAS. [_Goes close to him and looks straight in his face._] Then go to Jeannette Gros and marry her!

FLETCHER. [_Angry again._] Go to H--. [_Change of tone._] You think if I'm out of the way you'll get her?

DOUGLAS. She's told me she doesn't love me, and she proved to me that she won't believe the truth of you without extraordinary proof. There is only one person in the world who could naturally interfere and give her anything like that proof, and that's her father; and I shall tell him to-night, before I leave this house, before you can announce your engagement!

FLETCHER. With Miss Wolton's permission, I will announce our engagement to-night, in spite of you, and her father. [_Music stops. Enter_ MRS. LORRIMER, _with a favour, lamb and trumpet_.

MRS. LORRIMER. Oh, here you men are! If you think this is going to be allowed, you are very much mistaken! What do men think we ask them to parties for? Eh? Anyway, a cotillion is a leap-year dance; on such an occasion you are our natural prey! Come, sir! [_Pretending to blow trumpet._

DOUGLAS. No. [_Smiling apologetically._] Postpone my pleasure till a little later in the evening, will you? Don't be angry with me; I want to have a few words with Mr. Wolton,--then I'll come and give _all_ my favours to you!

MRS. LORRIMER. That sounds attractive; I'll let you off. [_Makes lamby squeak. Smiling, turns to_ FLETCHER.] But I won't let you off.

FLETCHER. [_Smiling._] _Don't_, please! I'm very happy to be your _consolation_ prize. [_Takes lamb. Music._

MRS. LORRIMER. I'm a dangerous woman to make that remark to. You'd better be careful, or I might take you literally at your word.

FLETCHER. Oh, if you only would! [_Pulls lamb's head._

MRS. LORRIMER. What a charming speech. [_She and_ FLETCHER _go into ball-room and off._ FLETCHER _makes lamb squeak_. MRS. WOLTON, _her arms full of a set of gay favours, crosses the ball-room_; DOUGLAS _sees her and takes a step or two towards her, then waits till she has finished speaking to the girl_. MRS. WOLTON _turns, and_ DOUGLAS _addresses her_.

DOUGLAS. Mrs. Wolton, is Mr. Wolton in the ball-room?

MRS. WOLTON. No, I think he's in the smoking-room.--Aren't you going to dance? [_Coming into room._

DOUGLAS. Not just yet--later-- [_Half bows apologetically. At the same moment, the music swells and the procession of dancers, in couples, dance in five or six couples into the front room, the line curving away to right to suggest that there are very many more couples in the ball-room out of sight. As they dance, they are laughing and talking--the first couple turns, the other couples making bridges under which the first couple goes, and passes into ball-room and off, followed by each couple the same. Music softens._ MRS. WOLTON _has drawn to one side, when the dancers came in. In this dance, scarfs are used by dancers._

DOUGLAS. Mr. Wolton there?

MRS. WOLTON. [_Mildly surprised._] He?

DOUGLAS. I want to see Mr. Wolton very much to-night--_now_. It is a matter of the greatest importance. [_Enter_ SERVANT _from ball-room._

MRS. WOLTON. Where is Mr. Wolton, Howes?

SERVANT. He has gone to his bedroom, m'm. [_Crosses behind_ MRS. WOLTON.

MRS. WOLTON. [_Surprised, but not too much so._] What?

SERVANT. He said he was on no account to be disturbed until the party was over.

MRS. WOLTON. [_A little anxious._] Was he ill?

SERVANT. He didn't appear so, m'm.

DOUGLAS. [_To_ MRS. WOLTON.] Was he feeling ill to-night?

MRS. WOLTON. [_With a relieved voice, showing no anxiety._] No, not at all. He was in splendid spirits. Probably he was bored and thought he would be quieter upstairs.

DOUGLAS. I don't want to be offensive, but I must, if possible, see him to-night.

MRS. WOLTON. [_Speaking very casually._] Howes, you might go and say to Mr. Wolton, Mr. Rhodes wants to speak to him about something very urgent. [_To_ DOUGLAS.] If he doesn't want to come down stairs again, he can send for you to come up.

SERVANT. Beg pardon, m'm, but he was so very strong with me that I shouldn't under any circumstances go to him, I don't quite like to-- [_He hesitates, embarrassed at having not to obey_ MRS. WOLTON'S _request at once._

MRS. WOLTON. Really, he made such a point of it! Oh, very well then, you needn't go, Howes. [_With a nod of dismissal._ SERVANT _exits into ball-room and off_.

MRS. WOLTON. [_Lowers her voice so that_ HOWES _sha'n't hear her, as he goes._] Mr. Wolton is rather hard on the servants if they fail to obey his orders to the letter. I'll go myself and see if he won't see you. [_Enter_ MARION _from ball-room, as her mother starts._

MARION. Mother, where are you going with the favours?

MRS. WOLTON. To your father for a moment.

MARION. But you can't; we need them. [_Crosses. Music stops._] I'll go for you. [MRS. WOLTON _exits centre as_ MARION _exits right_. FANSHAW _appears from ball-room, enters_.

FANSHAW. Come on, Rhodes, we need your help. [_Seizing_ DOUGLAS.

DOUGLAS. How long will it take?

FANSHAW. Oh, only a couple of minutes. [RHODES _and_ FANSHAW _exeunt, followed by_ MRS. WOLTON.

TRIMMINS. [_Off stage._] Mrs. Lorrimer! Mrs. Lorrimer! [_Enters._] Oh, Mrs. Lorrimer, won't you dance through with me? [TRIMMINS _does this_.

MRS. LORRIMER. Do excuse me. [_Adds a little sotto voce and coaxingly._] And as a favour to me, go and take out poor Susie Woodruff. You know it's only "snap the whip" figure, so it won't make much difference to you if she is a bit heavy. [TRIMMINS _makes a bored grimace, and goes up stage_. MRS. LORRIMER _catches him_.] Yes, to please me! It isn't as if it were a waltz and you had to get her around all by yourself!

TRIMMINS. [_Smiling._] Very well, to please you! But Susan Woodruff, she's the limit. [_Doubles up his arm and feels his muscles meaningly, and exits._ MARION _enters tragically. White, frightened, she staggers quickly into the room and, stopping for a second, gasps in a horrified whisper._

MARION. Mother! [_Crosses to arch._] Mother!! [_Music, "Won't You Come And Play With Me." Singing heard._ MARION _turns, frightened, goes down. Her mother comes to her. They meet._

MRS. WOLTON. [_Frightened, puzzled._] What is it? What's the matter?

MARION. [_For a moment, can't speak. She opens her lips, but the words refuse to come. Then she manages to gasp out:_] Father!

MRS. WOLTON. Your father--what? [_Starts and looks at her questioningly, frightened, as the music swells, and is joined in by the voices of the dancers._

MARION. He is dead!

MRS. WOLTON. Dead!! [_She makes a movement towards door._ MARION _stops her_.

MARION. It's too horrible!--he has killed himself-- [_Adds the latter in lower tone, almost fainting. The dancers appear in the ball-room, hand in hand in single file, led by_ FANSHAW, _and dance wildly in--all singing "Won't You Come And Play With Me." They make a big circle about_ MARION _and_ MRS. WOLTON, _dancing out through the ball-room, the music and singing becoming fainter as they disappear. The two women are left alone. Re-enter_ DOUGLAS _from ball-room._

DOUGLAS. May I go up? [_He sees the condition of_ MRS. WOLTON _and the expression of_ MARION.] Is your mother ill?

MARION. Help me take her to--my room--I will tell you. [_Dancers cross as they exit. Music changes to waltz. All go out._ MRS. LORRIMER, _on end, drops their hands._ MRS. WOLTON _and_ MARION _shudder as they go out_.

MRS. LORRIMER. Where is Mr. Rhodes?

FANSHAW. He was here a moment ago. [_Enter_ SERVANT. _He has his overcoat on and carries his hat._ MRS. LORRIMER _turns_.

MRS. LORRIMER. Have you seen Mr. Rhodes?

SERVANT. He is just coming, m'm.

MRS. LORRIMER. [_Looking at_ SERVANT _and seeing something in his face and manner._ SERVANT _crosses hurriedly_.] Is there anything the matter? Where is Mrs. Wolton? [DOUGLAS _enters before_ SERVANT _can answer_. MRS. LORRIMER _at once turns to him, ignoring_ SERVANT, _who, on a run, bows slightly and exits_.

MRS. LORRIMER. [_To_ DOUGLAS.] What's the matter?

DOUGLAS. A most terrible thing has happened.

MRS. LORRIMER. What?

DOUGLAS. You must help me to get rid of all the guests!

MRS. LORRIMER. To get rid-- [_Interrupted._

DOUGLAS. [_Interrupting._] Mr. Wolton has committed suicide.

MRS. LORRIMER. [_Starts and shudders; speaks very rapidly._] Mr.--how awful! What are you going to do? You can't tell the people now. What in the world did the man mean by not waiting till the party was over! If it isn't like you men! Your own comfort before anybody else's.--Well--the only thing is to pretend it hasn't happened at all--make some excuse for Marion and her mother--the guests needn't know anything about it,--and finish the party!

DOUGLAS. Mrs. Lorrimer! Impossible!

MRS. LORRIMER. It would be sort of uncomfortable for us who know, [_She adds sincerely._] --and the poor Woltons, of course,--it is awful for them.

DOUGLAS. I thought if you spoke to Fanshaw and stopped the cotillion and told a few of the guests-- [_Interrupted._

MRS. LORRIMER. [_Aghast._] What! The truth?

DOUGLAS. No, say Mr. Wolton has been taken suddenly and most dangerously ill--

MRS. LORRIMER. [_To_ DOUGLAS.] Very well, I'll do what I can.

DOUGLAS. Stop! [_Music stops._ DOUGLAS _goes to doorway into ball-room and draws the heavy portières, shutting out the ball-room._ MARION _enters_.

MARION. [_To_ DOUGLAS, _who stays at curtains._] They are going?

DOUGLAS. Yes.

MARION. They know?

DOUGLAS. Not the truth!

MARION. Thank you.

DOUGLAS. Mrs. Lorrimer is arranging it. [FOOTMAN _off stage calls_ "43." _The numbers are repeated in another voice and farther away. A moment's pause._

DOUGLAS. I wish I could comfort you.

MARION. [_Smiling strainedly at him._] Thank you. [FOOTMAN _calls_ "56!--56!--89!" "32!--32!--61!" DOUGLAS _holds back the portière into ball-room_.

MARION. I'd better go back to mother. How good you are to us--believe me, I appreciate it all, Douglas, _all_. [_Enter_ DAWSON _hurriedly. Shows excitement and emotion. At the same moment enter_ FLETCHER _from ball-room at back. The two men speak the word_ "Marion" _at the same time, and turning, see each other._ DAWSON _also observes the presence of_ DOUGLAS.] Uncle Fred! [_Crosses to him._ FOOTMAN _calls_ "115!"] [_To_ DAWSON.] You know!

FLETCHER. [_Gently, persuasively joining her._] Why didn't you send for me at once?

DAWSON. Gentlemen, you will forgive me if I thank you both and say the guests are leaving. The family would like to be alone.

DOUGLAS. I understand, but if I can be of any use?

DAWSON. Thank you.

DOUGLAS. Shall we go, Fletcher?

FLETCHER. Good-night, Rhodes. [_Politely._] My place is here; it is my privilege to stay by Miss Wolton. [DAWSON _looks up, surprised_. RHODES _looks angry_. FLETCHER _continues, to_ MARION.] May I speak? [MARION _bows her head in assent_.] Mr. Dawson, your niece has promised to-night to be my wife. At such a terrible moment as this, I claim the right of membership of the family, to be with you and help all I can. You will accept my offices? [_Holding out his hand._

DAWSON. [_Shaking his hand._] Certainly. You have won a wife in a thousand. But you may be called on to do more perhaps than you imagine.

FLETCHER. I am entirely at your service.

DOUGLAS. [_Near doorway back, to all. At curtains, leaves curtains open._] Good-night! [_All turn slightly._ DOUGLAS _bows and exits_. FLETCHER _going to_ MARION.

DAWSON. [_Watching them._] Thank God! His money will save them! [SERVANT _enters; speaks softly to_ DAWSON.

SERVANT. Mr. Dawson! [DAWSON _starts, nods to_ SERVANT, _who holds door open_.

DAWSON. I'm coming. [_Slowly, seriously, meaningly._] Fletcher, I want a long talk with you to-night before you go.

FLETCHER. Very well, sir. [DAWSON _sighs heavily and exits_. SERVANT _leaves door open. The two_, MARION _and_ FLETCHER, _hear the door shut behind them, and make a movement; they realize they are alone. A heavy front door slams. Lights out. There is silence. Taking_ MARION _in his arms._] My poor little girl!--My poor little girl!--Cry, for God's sake, cry!

MARION. [_With an outburst._] Oh, it is so horrible! [_She sobs loud and hysterically in_ FLETCHER'S _arms, her own arms about his neck._]--so--horrible--

CURTAIN.