Part 9

[_Assenting._] For the season—sufficiently large for the dear bishop, myself, and Theophila. Both in London and at St. Olpherts, Theophila will be my close companion. In our little London gaieties she will figure prominently. At certain formal gatherings she will share the responsibilities of the hostess. If any paragraph concerning our doings should creep into the newspaper, it will concern the Bishop of St. Olpherts, Mrs. Cloys, _and_ Mrs. Fraser of Locheen. Oh, I don’t think there will be many to wag evil tongues against Mrs. Fraser a few months hence!

[OLIVE _rises, and advances to_ MRS. CLOYS, _who stands as she approaches_.

OLIVE.

[_In a low voice, to_ MRS. CLOYS.] I’m glad; I’m very glad.

MRS. CLOYS.

That’s right.

OLIVE.

[_Falteringly._] But your—your scheme owes—just a little to my idea, doesn’t it?

MRS. CLOYS.

I admit it. Mrs. Allingham, I am sure you don’t grudge——

OLIVE.

No, no; indeed I don’t. I—I hope you will succeed—to the utmost——

[_She turns away, and goes out by the dining-room door._

MRS. EMPTAGE.

[_Rising, fretfully._] It seems to me everything is taken out of one’s hands——

SIR FLETCHER.

In a most unceremonious way——

MRS. EMPTAGE.

[_Glancing at_ FRASER, _who is now out in the garden_.] What about Alec—Mr. Fraser——?

SIR FLETCHER.

Of course, any policy that doesn’t tend to bring my niece and her husband together——

MRS. CLOYS.

Ah, I haven’t told you. Mr. Fraser is to be a frequent—a fairly frequent visitor in London, and at St. Olpherts.

SIR FLETCHER.

[_With a sniff._] Visitor——

MRS. CLOYS.

And it is further arranged that, in a year’s time, Mr. Fraser comes to us and formally asks Theophila to return to Lennox Gardens.

MRS. EMPTAGE.

And when he does——?

MRS. CLOYS.

Then we shall see what we shall see.

SIR FLETCHER.

[_Walking away._] I can’t quite explain my feeling—but I am not sanguine—not at all sanguine.

MRS. EMPTAGE.

At any rate, in less than twelve months, if I know my girl, she will have grown heartily sick of her solemn surroundings.

MRS. CLOYS.

[_Indignantly._] How dare you——! how——! [_Checking herself._] Well, suppose she _does_ weary of me, good will result even from _that_ if it sends her back to her husband.

[_The door opens, and the_ BISHOP OF ST. OLPHERTS _enters with_ THEOPHILA _upon his arm_. JUSTINA _follows them, carrying a shawl. The bishop is a mild-looking, very old man._ THEOPHILA _is dressed in her cape and bonnet, and her face is hidden under her thick veil_.

THEOPHILA.

[_Coming to_ MRS. EMPTAGE, _and kissing her_.] Mother——

[MRS. EMPTAGE _kisses her hastily and, bustles over to the_ BISHOP.

MRS. EMPTAGE.

Ah, Bishop, I can hardly hope you’ll recollect me.

BISHOP.

[_Vaguely._] Yes, yes, yes.

MRS. EMPTAGE.

[_With a simper._] Muriel, you know.

BISHOP.

[_Taking her hand._] Mrs. Emptage——!

MRS. EMPTAGE.

Don’t tell me; I know I’m altered.

BISHOP.

Ah, years pass over us.

MRS. EMPTAGE.

It isn’t that—but I had no sleep last night.

[SIR FLETCHER _advances, and grasps the_ BISHOP’S _hand_.

SIR FLETCHER.

I remember years ago, at the opening of the People’s Library at Stockwell, describing Dr. Cloys as one of the stoutest pillars of our Church——

BISHOP.

[_Uneasily._] The People’s Library at——?

SIR FLETCHER.

Stockwell. To-day I have only to add—may that pillar never grow faint nor weary; may its back remain equal to the burden imposed upon it; may it continue to plough the stormy seas of scepticism and agnosticism!

BISHOP.

[_Helplessly._] Er-r—who is it?

MRS. CLOYS.

My brother Fletcher.

BISHOP.

Ah, how do you do?

QUAIFE _appears_.

MRS. CLOYS.

Is the fly here?

QUAIFE.

Yes, ma’am.

[QUAIFE _withdraws. The_ BISHOP _moves towards the window_, SIR FLETCHER _closely following him_.

THEOPHILA.

[_To_ MRS. EMPTAGE.] Good-bye, mother dear.

MRS. EMPTAGE.

[_Embracing her._] Oh, good-bye, my darling. I won’t reproach you. If you make a bed you must lie on it. You’ve nearly broken my heart, but I’m only your mother——

THEOPHILA.

Oh, don’t——!

MRS. EMPTAGE.

[_In a whisper._] Mind you see that we visit you constantly in London and St Olpherts!

THEOPHILA.

Yes, yes. [_As she is walking away, she sees_ JOHN—_who has been standing silently behind the settee, his back turned to those in the room—and she says to the others_.] One moment. [_She comes down, looking at_ JOHN.] Mr. Allingham. [_He approaches her slowly. After a pause she says in a low voice._] Oh, Jack, how could you? [_He bows his head, making no reply._] Well—for auld lang-syne——[_She holds out her hand; he takes it, but releases it quickly. She turns to go, then pauses._] Where’s your wife? [_He looks towards the dining-room door. She hesitates for a moment, then, goes out quickly by that door._]

MRS. CLOYS.

[_Looking round._] Theophila—Theophila——

JOHN.

[_Watching the door._] She will be here in a moment; she is with my wife.

SIR FLETCHER PORTWOOD.

[_His voice rising._] My dear bishop, it is my view of life, and the observation has some theological bearing, that the devil almost invariably appears to women in the form of Impulse. In saying this, I am perhaps on the verge of a truism——

BISHOP OF ST. OLPHERTS.

No, no, no.

THEOPHILA _re-enters; her veil is raised_.

THEOPHILA.

[_As she passes_ JOHN, _lowering her veil_.] It’s all right.

[_There is a hubbub of talk as_ THEOPHILA _and her relatives go out at the upper door_.

MRS. EMPTAGE.

You will need a warm wrap, Theo.

JUSTINA.

I have one here, mother.

MRS. CLOYS.

Now, Bishop——

SIR FLETCHER PORTWOOD.

Is the carriage closed?

BISHOP OF ST. OLPHERTS.

I hope not.

SIR FLETCHER PORTWOOD.

You shall run no risk, my dear bishop——

MRS. EMPTAGE.

Claude, come to the gate. Give me your arm, Alec——

[_The talk ceases._ JOHN _is alone. After a pause he goes out into the garden and stands looking off towards the left, as if watching the departing carriage._ OLIVE _enters slowly and sadly; she sits upon the settee, covering her eyes with her hand_. JOHN _re-enters the room. Seeing_ OLIVE, _he remains where he is for a moment or two irresolutely; then he comes down to her, sits beside her and takes her hand_.

THE END.

_Printed by_ BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO. _London and Edinburgh_

=A Selection=

FROM

_MR. WM. HEINEMANN’S LIST._

---

_UNIFORM EDITION OF_ THE NOVELS OF BJÖRNSTJERNE BJÖRNSON.

Edited by EDMUND GOSSE. Fcap. 8vo, cloth, 3s. net each volume.

Vol. I.—SYNNÖVÉ SOLBAKKEN. With Introductory Essay by EDMUND GOSSE, and a Portrait of the Author.

Vol. II.—ARNE.

Vol. III.—A HAPPY BOY.

_To be followed by_

THE FISHER MAIDEN. │MAGNHILD. THE BRIDAL MARCH. │CAPTAIN MANSANA.

AND OTHER STORIES.

_UNIFORM EDITION OF_ THE NOVELS OF IVAN TURGENEV. Translated by CONSTANCE GARNETT. Fcap. 8vo, cloth, price 3s. net each volume.

Vol. I.—RUDIN. With a Portrait of the Author and an Introduction by STEPNIAK.

Vol. II.—A HOUSE OF GENTLEFOLK.

Vol. III.—ON THE EVE.

Vol. IV.—FATHERS AND CHILDREN.

_To be followed by_ Vol. V. SMOKE. ” VI., VII. VIRGIN SOIL. (Two Volumes.) Vols. VIII., IX. A SPORTSMAN’S SKETCHES. (Two Volumes.)

=The Pioneer Series.=

12mo, cloth, 3s. net; or, paper covers, 2s. 6d. net.

_The Athenæum._—“If this series keeps up to the present high level of interest, novel readers will have fresh cause for gratitude to Mr. Heinemann.”

_The Daily Telegraph._—“Mr. Heinemann’s genial nursery of up-to-date to romance.”

_The Observer._—“The smart Pioneer Series.”

_The Manchester Courier._—“The Pioneer Series promises to be as original as many other of Mr. Heinemann’s ventures.”

JOANNA TRAILL, SPINSTER. By ANNIE E. HOLDSWORTH.

GEORGE MANDEVILLE’S HUSBAND. By C. E. RAIMOND.

THE WINGS OF ICARUS. By LAURENCE ALMA TADEMA.

THE GREEN CARNATION. By R. S. HICHENS.

AN ALTAR OF EARTH. By THYMOL MONK.

A STREET IN SUBURBIA. By E. W. PUGH.

THE NEW MOON. By C. E. RAIMOND.

MILLY’S STORY. By Mrs. MONTAGUE CRACKANTHORPE.

MRS. MUSGRAVE—AND HER HUSBAND. By RICHARD MARSH.

THE DEMAGOGUE AND LADY PHAYRE. By WILLIAM J. LOCKE.

THE RED BADGE OF COURAGE. By STEPHEN CRANE.

SOME FRIENDS AND A WOMAN. By C. G. COMPTON.

PAPIER MACHÉE. By CHARLES ALLEN.

THE NEW VIRTUE. By Mrs. OSCAR BERINGER.

ACROSS AN ULSTER BOG. By M. HAMILTON.

_Other Volumes to follow._

=Popular 3s. 6d. Novels.=

ACCORDING TO ST. JOHN. By AMÉLIE RIVES.

ORIOLE’S DAUGHTER. By JESSIE FOTHERGILL.

THE MASTER OF THE MAGICIANS. By ELIZABETH STUART PHELPS and HERBERT D. WARD.

THE HEAD OF THE FIRM. By Mrs. RIDDELL.

THE STORY OF A PENITENT SOUL. By ADELINE SERGEANT.

THE SURRENDER OF MARGARET BELLARMINE. By ADELINE SERGEANT.

NOR WIFE, NOR MAID. By Mrs. HUNGERFORD.

THE HOYDEN. By Mrs. HUNGERFORD.

MAMMON. A Novel. By Mrs. ALEXANDER.

DAUGHTERS OF MEN. By HANNAH LYNCH.

A LITTLE MINX. By ADA CAMBRIDGE.

A MARKED MAN: Some Episodes in his Life. By ADA CAMBRIDGE.

THE THREE MISS KINGS. By ADA CAMBRIDGE.

NOT ALL IN VAIN. By ADA CAMBRIDGE.

A KNIGHT OF THE WHITE FEATHER. By TASMA.

UNCLE PIPER OF PIPER’S HILL. By TASMA.

THE PENANCE OF PORTIA JAMES. By TASMA.

=Heinemann’s International Library.=

Edited by EDMUND GOSSE. Price 3_s._ 6_d._ cloth. 2_s._ 6_d._ paper.

⁂ Each Volume has an Introduction specially written by the Editor.

_New Review._—“If you have any pernicious remnants of literary chauvinism, I hope it will not survive the series of foreign classics of which Mr. William Heinemann, aided by Mr. Edmund Gosse, is publishing translations to the great contentment of all lovers of literature.”

_Times._—“A venture which deserves encouragement.”

IN GOD’S WAY. From the Norwegian of BJÖRNSTJERNE BJÖRNSON.

PIERRE AND JEAN. From the French of GUY DE MAUPASSANT.

THE CHIEF JUSTICE. From the German of KARL EMIL FRANZOS, Author of “For the Right,” &c.

WORK WHILE YE HAVE THE LIGHT. From the Russian of COUNT TOLSTOY.

FANTASY. From the Italian of MATILDE SERAO.

FROTH. From the Spanish of DON ARMANDO PALACIO VALDÉS.

FOOTSTEPS OF FATE. From the Dutch of LOUIS COUPERUS.

PEPITA JIMÉNEZ. From the Spanish of JUAN VALERA.

THE COMMODORE’S DAUGHTERS. From the Norwegian of JONAS LIE.

THE HERITAGE OF THE KURTS. From the Norwegian of BJÖRNSTJERNE BJÖRNSON.

LOU. From the German of BARON VON ROBERTS.

DOÑA LUZ. From the Spanish of JUAN VALERA.

THE JEW. From the Polish of JOSEPH IGNATIUS KRASZEWSKI.

UNDER THE YOKE. From the Bulgarian of IVAN VAZOFF.

FAREWELL LOVE! From the Italian of MATILDE SERAO.

THE GRANDEE. From the Spanish of DON ARMANDO PALACIO VALDÉS.

A COMMON STORY. From the Russian of GONTCHAROFF.

WOMAN’S FOLLY. From the Italian of GEMMA FERRUGGIA.

Transcriber’s Note

Minor inconsistencies in the punctuation of stage directions have been regularized.

Errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have been corrected, and are noted here. The references are to the page and line in the original. The following issues should be noted, along with the resolutions.

v.5 on the same day[,] Added.

5.17 _Taking a screw of paper from her glove[.]_ Added.

25.2 But I must have[ have] every support Redundant.

216.19 Allowe[d]—what? Added.

242.17 No, thank you, Alec[.] Added.

243.22 This is truth[!/,] truth!] Replaced.

286.9 grown heartily sick of her solemn Added. surroundings[.]

288.14 may it[’]s back remain equal to the burden Removed.