Part 4

Respectability! Man alive, don't talk about it. The very sound of the word makes me ill. It's been my curse from a child. I refused to play hopscotch at eight years old because I thought it wasn't respectable, and went sliding instead and was nearly drowned. It was I who persuaded poor father to give up the fried-fish shop because fried fish wasn't respectable, and he went into oysters and ruined himself in a year. I was earning twenty pounds a week at the Halls, and what did I do? Threw it up and went on the stage as principal boy at five pounds--all to be respectable. And then the stage wasn't respectable enough for me, so I married Travers, and _he_ wasn't respectable enough for me. And what has it all ended in? What has this insatiable craving for respectability brought me to? Why, I'm the wife of a man who has been chucked--chucked from the Aquarium.

ADAM CHERRY

It is certainly very disappointing.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

And that's not all.

ADAM CHERRY

What! Has he been chucked from somewhere else too?

MRS. BEN DIXON

No--at least, not that I know of. I mean that's not the worst that I've found out. I couldn't tell that poor child, but, Cherry, I'm ruined. He's swindled me out of all my fortune--all the money that Travers left me. I haven't a penny left to call my own.

ADAM CHERRY.

Belinda! For Heaven's sake don't say he's a swindler.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

Why not? He is my own husband. I suppose I can say what I like about him. Let's have _some_ consolation. (_Noticing Cherry's distraction._) What's the matter with you?

ADAM CHERRY.

(_Wildly._) He's got £8,000 of my money. Nearly all I have. I've put it all into a company of his.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

(_Aghast_.) You? Oh, why did I bring you down here? Oh, you poor lamb! Oh, what a miserable woman I am!

(_Enter Theodore._)

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Ah, step-mater, I've been looking all over the place for you. (_Noticing the open paper on the floor where Cherry has dropped it, and, taking in the facts, he looks from one to the other. Then picks up paper, folds it, and puts in his pocket._) Finding out the truth about Ben, I see. Always a very painful matter finding out the truth about people.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

Theodore, your step-father's a scoundrel.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Don't put him down to me, mater. He wasn't my selection. _You_ chose him for me.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

Why did you ever let me marry him? _You_ must have seen through him. _You're_ the old experienced person. Why didn't you warn your poor silly step-mother? Why didn't you stop me?

THEODORE TRAVERS.

My dear Bella, if I were to advise everybody, and they were to follow my advice, the world would become so intensely sensible as to be utterly uninteresting. Besides, there's really nothing much to be upset about. You see, fortunately, the lady was a _strong_ woman. Now, if she had been a _weak_ one, why----

MRS. BEN DIXON.

That's not all, Theodore. I could have got over that. I shouldn't have been the first woman to find out that a man's respectable only so long as he thinks you can see him. But he's ruined me, Theodore. He's lost all my money for me.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

(_Whistles._) And found it for himself, I suppose.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

That's just what _I_ suppose too. And not content with that, he's cheated poor old Cherry here out of £8,000.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

(_Looks across at Cherry, who is standing utterly crushed._) "The Anti-Alcoholic and Mineral Water Union, Limited?"

ADAM CHERRY.

(_With a groan._) Yes, I signed the application for 200 shares not an hour ago. He said he'd see that they were allotted to me.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

I should say you could rely upon them. Are they settled for?

ADAM CHERRY.

I expect so by now. He suggested that I should telegraph to my brokers at the same time.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

And you did so? Of course, you would. (_Looks at watch_). Four o'clock--too late to do anything to-day. I will go up first thing to-morrow morning and see if anything can be done. Not that I expect anything _can_. Ben's got his failings, but he _is_ a good business man. I'll give a look into your affairs at the same time, mater. I don't suppose you'll get anything back, but it will be interesting to find out where it's all gone to.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

(_Rising with grunt of disgust_) Ah! and to think I've got to live with it, and to call it "my dear" when company's present. I'll make up for it in private. Theo, keep an eye on me for a bit. Don't let me get at him unless you want to see me doing my six months' hard for wringing his neck. (_Goes out_)

THEODORE TRAVERS.

You trust him, mater. He won't let you get at him. (_To Cherry_) Don't let Ben see that you suspect anything, or he'll----

(_Primrose appears at window_)

PRIMROSE DEANE.

(_Looking in_) Come on, Theodore. I'm waiting for you.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

I know you are. You shall be rewarded anon. I've just got to talk a little business with Mr. Cherry (_Puts his hand on Cherry's shoulder, and takes him towards door._) Come up to my study. We shan't be interrupted there.

It's so very kind of you.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Not at all--not at all. (_Aside._) Good material for a financial novel. (_They go off._)

(_Primrose and Nelly come in from garden_.)

PRIMROSE DEANE.

Nelly! something very serious is going on here. Mr. Ben Dixon's been doing something that he oughtn't.

(_She sits before piano, touching the keys softly, making a faint suggestion of music here and there throughout the conversation_). I'm afraid it's a common failing, dear.

Yes--but he's been doing it more than usual. I don't like that man. Ted doesn't like him either. He says he is an oily old scoundrel.

NELLY MORRIS.

Ted might speak a little more respectfully of his host.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

Oh, he's not our host. It's _Mrs_. Ben Dixon--and besides that was only to _me_, you know.

NELLY MORRIS.

Oh!

PRIMROSE DEANE.

I never could make out why Mrs. Ben Dixon married him. She's so jolly. (_Musingly._) One does come across some very ill-assorted couples--very. When are you going to be married, Nelly?

NELLY MORRIS.

Very soon, I think.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

May I be bridesmaid?

NELLY MORRIS.

Oh, there won't be any bridesmaids, dear, or anything of that sort. We shall just go into the church, our two selves, come out, and go away.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

No breakfast?

NELLY MORRIS.

( Shakes her head and smiles.) No fuss of any kind.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

No dress! No flowers! No presents! No people!

No cake! (_Nell shakes her head_.) How will you know that you're married?

NELLY MORRIS.

(_A little bitterly._) I shall wake to the fact soon enough.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

Nelly, didn't you ever have a young lover? Mr. Cherry's awfully nice and good, but you know what I mean--somebody handsome, and big, and impudent. Who---- (_With a girl's quickness notices the trembling of Nelly's lip._) Was it very long ago?

NELLY MORRIS.

(_Very low._) I think so--very, very long ago.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

What happened? Did you quarrel?

NELLY MORRIS.

No, dear. Only like Jamie in the ballad, he hadn't any siller and Ted and I hadn't any siller, and----

PRIMROSE DEANE.

And so you're going to marry "Auld Robin Gray." Oh, Nelly, is it too late? There's a lot of siller in the world, but there isn't much love. Is it too late, dear?

NELLY MORRIS.

Yes.

(_Enter Jack, with hat and stick in hand, ushered in by servant._)

SERVANT.

Mrs. Ben Dixon won't be long, sir. (_Goes out_.)

PRIMROSE DEANE.

Oh, Mr. Medbury! (_Advances to him and shakes hands._)

JACK MEDBURY.

How d'you do, Miss Deane? (_Shaking hands with Nelly, who has risen, a little constrainedly._) How are you, Miss Morris?

PRIMROSE DEANE.

Mrs. Ben Dixon will be so glad to see you, I know. She was saying only this morning how sorry she was you hadn't been able to come down.

JACK MEDBURY.

Well, I'm ashamed to say I haven't come to see Mrs. Ben Dixon now. (_The girls look surprised._) I've really come more to see Ted. Is he here?

PRIMROSE DEANE.

(_Anxiously._) There's nothing happened?

JACK MEDBURY.

Nothing to do with him. It's a matter I wanted to consult him about, that's all.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

I'll go and find him for you.

JACK MEDBURY.

Oh, it's a shame to trouble you.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

It's brutal, isn't it? (_She goes out laughing._)

JACK MEDBURY.

(_After a pause; he and Nelly seem careful not to look at one another._) How is Ted? All right?

NELLY MORRIS.

Yes, he's very much better. He seems more cheerful.

JACK MEDBURY.

Ah, yes, things are looking a bit brighter for him, I hope. Change of luck's better even than change of air for putting new life into a man, I should think.

NELLY MORRIS.

How--how are _you_ getting on?

JACK MEDBURY.

Me? Oh, much the same as usual. I suppose _I_ ought to be a little luckier now, if there's any truth in the old adage.

NELLY MORRIS.

(_Still not looking at him--after a pause._) Jack, can you forgive me?

JACK MEDBURY.

There's nothing to forgive, Nelly.

NELLY MORRIS.

Yes there is, Jack--a lot. I've used you very badly. Any other man would hate me and despise me. But--but I don't want you to, Jack. (_Leans over over her book. A pause._)

JACK MEDBURY.

There's not much fear of that, Nelly. I can never tell you--I had better not try to, perhaps--what I feel--what I shall always feel towards you. It isn't hate, Nelly. We shall be drifting farther and farther apart, out of sight of one another. Think of me--when you do think of me--as kindly as I shall ever think of you. It will be a help to me to know that you are doing so.

(_Nelly has risen, and they stand facing each other. Yielding to a sudden impulse, she raises her face to his and their lips meet. Then with a low cry she pushes him from her, and goes out._)

(_Enter Ted and Cherry._)

TED MORRIS.

Hulloa, Jack, old man, anything up?

JACK MEDBURY.

Yes, something rather important. I thought I'd just run down and see you about it. (_Shaking hands with Cherry._) You're not looking too well, Mr. Cherry.

ADAM CHERRY.

I'm a little worried, my dear boy--a little worried.

JACK MEDBURY.

Oh, I'm so sorry. Well, look here, I'll talk about this matter to Ted, then. I won't trouble you with it.

ADAM CHERRY.

No, dear boy; no. If it's about anybody else's worries it will help me to forget my own. What is it? Nothing wrong with you, I hope?

JACK MEDBURY.

No, it's about other people. (_Commencing to take paper from his pocket._) Have you seen _The Illustrated Police News_ this week?

ADAM CHERRY.

(_Grasping what is coming._) Yes--I have. What do you know about it?

JACK MEDBURY.

Oh! Oh, nothing (_unfolding paper_), except that the portrait of the gentleman in the centre picture--drawn by a chum of mine who happened to be present, and sent to the paper for a joke--seems to me an excellent likeness of your friend Mr. Ben Dixon. Who do you say it is? (_Hands paper to Cherry._)

TED MORRIS.

(_Taking paper from Cherry._) Great Scott! it _must_ be Ben Dixon.

ADAM CHERRY.

Oh, it is. There's no question of doubt. Young Travers knows all about the matter. It _is_ Mr. Ben Dixon.

JACK MEDBURY

Mrs. Wheedles says it isn't.

TED MORRIS.

Mrs. Wheedles? What does she know about it?

JACK MEDBURY.

She says she knows the party very well indeed, and that his name is--Wheedles!

TED MORRIS

Wheedles!

JACK MEDBURY.

The long-lost Wheedles!

ADAM CHERRY.

Impossible!

JACK MEDBURY.

So I explained to her. I told her that he was an eminent philanthropist and that his name was Ben Dixon. She said she didn't care what he was or what he was called: his real name was Wheedles, he was her lawful married husband, and if we would bring her face to face with him she would precious soon prove it.

(A pause. The three men look at one another.)

ADAM CHERRY.

Well, from what I've found out to-day, I should say he was villain enough for anything.

TED MORRIS.

And from what I've suspected for a pretty long time, I should say the same.

JACK MEDBURY.

What are we to do? Mrs. Wheedles says she'll have the law on him.

TED MORRIS.

Why, do all we can as good citizens to assist Mrs. Wheedles and the law. It will be a precious good thing for aunt to get rid of the old humbug.

ADAM CHERRY.

We must go to work cautiously you know, Ted, or we may only make matters more unpleasant for your aunt than they are. Mrs. Wheedles may be mistaken.

TED MORRIS.

I hope to goodness she isn't. I wonder how we can find out?

JACK MEDBURY.

Oh, by-the-bye, she gave me this too (_produces photo and shows it_). The last portrait of Wheedles--taken four years ago. (_Ted takes paper, and compares photo with paper._) Should you say 'twas the same man?

TED MORRIS.

(_Examining_.) The whiskers make such a difference. Hadn't she got a photo of him with some hair on his face?

JACK MEDBURY.

No. I asked her that. Wheedles seems to have always lived a clean-shaven life.

TED MORRIS.

I wish we could get Ben Dixon to shave himself.

JACK MEDBURY.

Yes; that would be the thing.

ADAM CHERRY.

Yes; but it's no good talking about that. He's hardly likely to do that to please us. No, this is a matter that we must go to work about cautiously. Now, you come with me, Jack, and we will talk it over with young Travers (_moving with Jack towards door_). You stop here, Ted. We'd better not be all together. It will look as if something was the matter and we must keep the thing quiet. (_Cherry and Jack go off talking_.)

TED MORRIS.

(_Crosses, and sitting on the easy chair enjoying the paper._) By Jove! Old Ben at the Aquarium--drunk and----

(_Ben Dixon is heard whistling "There is a happy land." Ted, hearing him, pushes paper under cushion. Crosses to fire whistling "Get your hair cut." Enter Ben Dixon._)

MR. BEN DIXON.

(_Looking about._) You haven't seen my spectacles anywhere, have you, Ted?

TED MORRIS.

No, Mr. Ben Dixon. Did you leave them here?

MR. BEN DIXON.

Yes, I wish you'd look on the garden seat. I may have left them there. Do you mind?

TED MORRIS.

Oh, certainly. (_Goes out through window. Ben Dixon hastily darts to chair and, moving cushion, finds paper._)

MR. BEN DIXON.

(_Seizing it with a cry of joy_.) Ah! So it _was_ here all the time. Theo must have slipped it there when he heard Bella coming. What a bit of luck. They've none of them seen it. (_Looking at it_) Oh, it is like me. If I could only disguise myself for a little while, till----

(_Re-enter Ted. Ben Dixon hides paper under his coat._)

TED MORRIS.

No, I can't see them.

MR. BEN DIXON.

Oh, it's all right, my dear boy. I've found them, thanks. They were in my pocket all the time. So silly of me, wasn't it? (_Laughs, and goes out, whistling._)

(_Enter Primrose by window._)

PRIMROSE DEANE.

(_Looking in_) Business over?

TED MORRIS.

For the present--could it stay for a moment when pleasure in the person of Miss Deane presents herself? (_Bows._)

PRIMROSE DEANE.

(_Curtseying._) I thank you, fair sir. How very agreeable we've become all of a sudden.

TED MORRIS.

"Become!" Ain't I always agreeable?

PRIMROSE DEANE.

No. Not when you talk about going away and never coming back, and say you hope it will be a long while before you see any of us again.

TED MORRIS.

I--I don't think I said I "hoped" it would be a long while. I think I said I _feared_ it might be.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

Oh, well, it's all the same. You needn't go away at all unless you liked.

TED MORRIS.

(_Apologetically._) You see my examination is coming on pretty soon now.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

Well, anyhow, you could come down again afterwards. (_A pause--pettishly as she crosses to window._) But there! of course if you want to avoid any chance of ever seeing any of us any more why---- (Turns her back on him.)

TED MORRIS.

(_Speaking low and earnestly._) It would be better perhaps if I did avoid seeing---- one of you any more.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

Oh, what an unkind thing to say! Which one? Why?

TED MORRIS.

Because I'm afraid that if I saw very much more of her----

PRIMROSE DEANE.

Of _her!_

TED MORRIS.

Of her--I might make a fool of myself. (_A pause_.)

PRIMROSE DEANE.

(_Who shows she fully understands his drift--coquettishly._) In--in any particular sort of away?

TED MORRIS.

In a way that men often do make fools of themselves, Miss Deane. Perhaps we'd better change the conversation.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

I--_I_ think it's ra-rather interesting.

TED MORRIS.

(_With sudden eager excitement._) Miss Deane--Primrose--do you mean that you could ever----

MRS. BEN DIXON.

(_Without._) Primrose--Primrose. (_Ted stops. Primrose starts, and seems irritated._) (_Calling louder_.) Primrose.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

(_Calling._) Yes, Mrs. Ben Dixon, I'm coming. (_To Ted_.) Don't go away. I'll be back again in a minute. (_Runs off._)

TED MORRIS.

By Jove! Am I awake or dreaming! She _must_ have meant she----

(Enter Theo.)

THEODORE TRAVERS.

(_He is smoking a cigarette._) Oh, I thought Primrose was here.

TED MORRIS.

Yes. She--she'll be back in a minute, I think.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Oh. Just give her that. (_Hands him a letter._) Tell her not to be alarmed at the seal. It's only from her guardian--the Lord Chancellor.

TED MORRIS.

The Lord Chancellor!

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Yes; didn't you know? She's a ward in Chancery.

TED MORRIS.

No--I--I thought it was only heiresses who were wards in Chancery.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Well, you'd call her an heiress, I suppose. She'll be worth about two thousand a year. (_A pause._)

TED MORRIS.

(_With a slight laugh, and by a great effort, speaking in natural easy tones._) I--I thought she was a poor little penniless orphan--dependent on Aunt Bella.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

No; she doesn't suggest the heiress a bit, does she? Just as well she doesn't, perhaps. One doesn't have to be keeping such a continual look out for the fortune-hunting crew. She'll want to see me about that letter, I expect. I shall be down on the Putting Green. (_Goes out._)

TED MORRIS.

(_Bitterly._) Yes, I was dreaming. This is the awakening. An heiress with two thousand a year, and I with hardly a second coat to my back! A smart pair they'd have said we were--Nelly and I. Damn the money!

(_Enter Primrose._)

PRIMROSE DEANE.

(_Running over to him._) I haven't been long, have I?

TED MORRIS.

(_Turning away from her._) Haven't you? It's seemed a long time. (_Handing her the letter without looking at her._) I think Theodore wants to see you about this letter. He's in the garden.

PRIMROSE DEANE.

(_She takes the letter but hardly glances at it._) Don't--don't you want to see me? You--you were going to ask me if--if I meant--something or other.

TED MORRIS.

(_Desperately._) Miss Deane, I--I acted a little strangely just now. Please try to forget it. I--I don't think I quite knew what I was doing.

PRIMROSE DEANE

I will try to forget it, Mr. Morris.

(_Enter Mrs. Ben Dixon and Jack_.)

MRS. BEN DIXON.

(_As they come on_.) Well, drat the boy, you'll stop and have a cup of tea, and a bit of seed cake. You've got time for that?

JACK MEDBURY.

Well, I won't say no to that.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

Um--well, it's surprising that you don't. (_To Primrose._) Ring the bell, dear, and let's have some tea up. Lord help the child, what's the matter with _you?_

PRIMROSE DEANE.

Nothing, Mrs. Ben Dixon.

(_Cherry and Nelly enter._)

MRS. BEN DIXON,

For goodness sake, look it then. There's no need for the whole house to be like a funeral party. Ted, do go and find Theodore. That tongue of his will be of some use for once in a way. Tell him that if he'll come in he can have all the conversation to himself--that ought to bring him. (_Ted goes out by window_.) We'll have _somebody_ cheerful about.

NELLY MORRIS.

Shall I see to the tea, aunt? You are looking so worried.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

No--no, child. Let me be doing something, then

I don't think. What's brought that artist friend of yours down in such a hurry? There's nothing wrong with Ted, is there?

NELLY MORRIS.

No--I don't think so, aunt.

MRS. BEN DIXON.

Um--just the afternoon for it to happen if there was. Troubles always come together in this world, and they don't even make the usual reduction for taking a quantity.

(Enter Theodore and Ted by window.)

THEODORE TRAVERS.

Want me, mater?

MRS. BEN DIXON.

Yes, I do--look at us all. Did you ever see a collection of people looking more as if they'd just been fined forty shillings all round? We want some of your light philosophical conversation. Make us a bit cheerful.

THEODORE TRAVERS.

(_Looks round._) Too big an order for me, mater. You want a soothing and elevating influence here. Where's Ben?

MRS. BEN DIXON.

Don't you try to irritate me with that step-father of yours, Theodore, or you and I----

(Enter servant.)

SERVANT.

Did you ring, ma'am?

MRS. BEN DIXON.

Yes, bring the tea, and tell Davis to----

(_Enter Ben Dixon. He has shaved himself. He enters singing. The servant remains, staring at his master._)

MRS. BEN DIXON.

(_Staring aghast at Ben Dixon._) Lord save us all! What's the man done to himself!

(_Cherry, Jack, and Ted have been talking together. They have not yet looked at Ben Dixon. On hearing this, Cherry starts and looks rounds then whips out the photo of Wheedles from his pocket, and looks from it to Ben Dixon. Ted and Jack look over Cherry's shoulder._)

MR. BEN DIXON.

(_Sweetly._) Only shaved, Sweety. (_Looks round at them all_). How do you like me?

TED MORRIS.

(_In an excited whisper_). By Jove! it _is_----

ADAM CHERRY.

Quiet.

Curtain.

THE THIRD ACT.

_Cherry's sitting-room at Mrs. Wheedles'. A comfortable, old-fashioned room furnished in good substantial style. Cherry and Mrs. Wheedles discovered. Cherry smoking pipe in his easy chair before fire. Mrs. Wheedles sits uncomfortably on extreme edge of the other easy-chair._

MRS. WHEEDLES.

And you really think, he'll come?

ADAM CHERRY.

Tolerably sure of it, Mrs. Wheedles. I flatter myself I baited the hook pretty artfully. I wrote him that if he could call here about four o'clock to-day I could introduce him to a lady who I knew took great interest in his schemes, and that I thought some advantage might result from the meeting. (_Chuckles_.) And so I hope it will.

MRS. WHEEDLES.

And he said he would?

ADAM CHERRY.

He replied that he would not allow such an opportunity for benefiting the human race to escape him for worlds, and that he would be here to the minute.

MRS. WHEEDLES,

(_Glances at clock over mantel_.) It's twenty minutes to four now.

ADAM CHERRY.

(_Looks at his watch._) Ah, that's five minutes fast. Mrs. Ben Dixon's rather late though. She said she'd be here at half-past three.

MRS. WHEEDLES.

How has she taken it, poor woman?

ADAM CHERRY.

Well, of course it's a very unpleasant position for her, but, between ourselves, I fancy she will be very glad if it turns out that he _is_ your husband, and, consequently, not hers. I expect that's why she's so anxious to be in the "show," as she calls it. She says she wants to see the truth for herself, and fix him down.

MRS. WHEEDLES.

She hasn't said a word to him about it, I suppose?

ADAM CHERRY.

She hasn't had a chance--yet. They quarrelled over money matters (_groans to himself_) and other things, and she left him before she ever heard of this.

MRS. WHEEDLES.

Ah, she could never really have loved him, Mr. Cherry. (_Wipes away a tear._)

ADAM CHERRY.

I'm inclined to agree with you there, Mrs. Wheedles. (_He crosses to window, looking at his watch._) I wish she'd come.

MRS. WHEEDLES.

(_Crying._) Such a good man as he was--before he went wrong. (_Bell heard._) She starts up. Oh Lord, that's him, I feel it in my bones.

ADAM CHERRY.

(_Looking out of window._) Your bones have misled you, Mrs. Wheedles. It's Mr. Travers, and--(_looking out further_), no, it isn't big enough for Mrs. Ben Dixon.

MRS. WHEEDLES.

Oh dear, it gave me quite a spasm. I wish I didn't feel in such a fluster.

(_The door at back is opened by a maid, and Theodore enters followed by Primrose. Mrs. Wheedles slips quietly out._)

ADAM CHERRY