The 'Mind the Paint' Girl, Arthur Wing Pinero [librera reader .TXT] 📗

you hook it.

Maud.

Going to the bedroom door. Ha, ha, ha! Ho, ho, ho! That’s how I like to hear her talk. Ha, ha, ha, ha!

Maud vanishes into the bedroom, closing the door, and Lily, having tied up her stockings, rises and comes to the settee.

Mrs. Upjohn.

Still pressing the bell-push. Now I don’t believe I’ve rung.

Lily.

At the uttermost tension. Ah, stop it, mother; stop it! Sitting on the settee. We’re not calling the fire-brigade.

Jimmie.

At the back of the settee, to Lily. I’ll wait in your bedroom till the men have been shown up, and sneak out that way. Bending over Lily. Mind! If Nicko is willing, after all, that you should make your choice——

Mrs. Upjohn.

Advancing. Yes, dearie, if ’e is willing——

Lily.

Frantically. I tell you I have made it. I keep on telling you I’ve chosen—I’ve chosen—I’ve chosen! Clenching her hands. If you torment me any more, either of you——!

Mrs. Upjohn and Jimmie retreat precipitately to the bedroom door. They open the door and then, standing in the doorway, listen intently.

Jimmie.

Disappearing. Ah——!

Mrs. Upjohn.

Partially disappearing. Ah—! Only her head visible, speaking to Lily in a hoarse whisper. Mother’s ’ere, dearie.

The head is withdrawn and the door softly closed. After a pause, Gladys enters at the other door followed by Jeyes and Farncombe. The men are carrying their hats and canes. Gladys retires, closing the door, and Jeyes comes to Lily and shakes hands with her.

Jeyes.

To Lily, gently. How are you to-day, Lil? Very fagged?

Lily.

Almost inaudibly. I am a little. Jeyes turns from her, to lay his hat and cane upon the box-ottoman, and then Farncombe, who has hung back, advances hesitatingly to the further side of the centre table and bows to Lily. She rises and, avoiding his eyes, gives him a limp hand across the table. How d’ye do? To Jeyes who, having got rid of his hat and cane, moves away from the ottoman. Sit down, won’t you? She resumes her seat upon the settee and Jeyes, with a nod, sits in the arm-chair by the centre table. Farncombe remains standing and again she addresses him without meeting his eyes. And you?

Farncombe, with another bow, sits upon the fauteuil-stool. There is a brief silence and then Jeyes speaks.

Jeyes.

Lil——

Lily.

Y-yes?

Jeyes.

In the first place, Farncombe wants you distinctly to understand how it is he’s committing this breach of his compact with you. To Farncombe. You promised——?

Farncombe.

I promised never to attempt to come near Miss Parradell again, nor even to enter the theatre.

Jeyes.

To Lily. And if I’m any judge of a man, Lily, Farncombe would have kept his promise. He’d have kept it faithfully, but for me. I’ve brought him along—insisted on it. Emphatically. I’ve brought him along. See?

Lily.

W-w-why, Nicko?

Jeyes.

I’ll tell you, my dear. You remember, when we left you early this morning, ordering us to walk away together and to part good friends?

Lily.

P-perfectly.

Jeyes.

Well, we did walk away together, and we did part good friends. But we didn’t part at all till some hours later, in his rooms. We didn’t part till I’d made him stand by me and listen to me while I had a long jaw with my brother on the ’phone.

Lily.

Wonderingly. With—your——?

Jeyes.

About that Rhodesian business.

Lily.

What Rhodesian business?

Jeyes.

I mentioned it to you yesterday. Bob owns a third, with Peter Chalmers and Tom Dalby, of a group of farms near Bulawayo, and he’s been badgering me eternally to cut this and to settle out there as their agent. Simply. And I’ve accepted, old girl.

Lily.

With a blank face. Ac-cepted?

Jeyes.

Grimly. Leaving you to bring an action against me, to recover damages for a broken heart. Drawing a deep breath. Yes, I’m chucking you, Lil. I give you formal notice of my intention; and you can drive down to your solicitors this afternoon and instruct them to writ me without delay. Forcing a laugh. Ha, ha, ha!

Lily.

Faintly. Nicko——!

Jeyes.

Unless—unless you’ve an idea of consoling yourself shortly with—with another chap, and prefer not to carry the matter into Court.

Lily.

About to rise. Nicko——!

Jeyes.

Restraining her by a gesture. H’sh! No, no, no. She sinks back. Ah, Lil—Lil—I know you’re full of generous, honest impulses, though I did tear you to rags in Farncombe’s hearing a few hours ago. But I’m not going to allow you to sacrifice yourself to them; I—I—I’ve come to my senses, and I’m not going to permit it. Bending forward. Oh, my dear, why should I make you pay for the weaknesses of my character? Because that’s what it ’ud amount to. I’ve bullied you for having played skittles with my life, my career. So you have! Damn it, so you have! But you’ve done it out of blind thoughtlessness; and if I’d been a fairly strong man, with some ballast in me, you couldn’t have landed me where I am—not you nor fifty Pandora girls! Sitting erect. And that—that’s the moral of the tale; and—and— abruptly, to Farncombe There’s nothing more, is there, Farncombe?

Farncombe.

Brokenly. Except that—that I’d like to repeat—what I’ve already said to Jeyes—that I— his elbows on the table, his head bowed oh, you make me feel terribly small, Jeyes.

Again there is a pause, and then Lily struggles to her feet and holds out her hand to Jeyes uncertainly, and at once he rises and takes her in his arms. Farncombe also rises and, standing behind the settee, turns his back to Jeyes and Lily.

Lily.

To Jeyes, choking. Ah, Nicko—I can’t—I can’t——

Jeyes.

Patting her shoulder. Ah——!

Lily.

Why, what—what would become of my resolutions——?

Jeyes.

Resolutions?

Lily.

To—to raise you up, Nicko.

Jeyes.

You are raising me up—setting me on my legs again.

Lily.

In a fright. And—and drawing Eddie into my net!

Jeyes.

Oh, we’ve talked of that too, he and I. He’s given me an account of what passed between you here. My dear girl, your conscience may be quite clear on that point. Nobody can ever reproach you with trying to draw him into your net.

Lily.

They would—they would——

Jeyes.

At all events, the task you have to face now is to prove to the world—his world—that Miss Parradell is equal to playing “lead” on a bigger stage than the stage of the Pandora. Holding her at arms’ length and shaking her fondly. And you’ll do it! Ho, ho, ho, ho! You’ll do it! Ha, ha, ha—! His voice dies away miserably and he releases her. Then, pulling himself together, he looks at his watch. Well, I’ve got to lunch with Bob at half-past one at the Junior Carlton——

Lily.

Agitatedly. Ah, it’s not nearly that, Nicko; it’s not nearly that! Nicko—! She passes him, moving towards the door on the left as if to intercept him, and then turns to him. A strip of ribbon lies upon the spot where she has been standing. After gazing at it for a moment, he stoops and picks it up. Oh—! He folds the ribbon carefully and puts it into his pocket. Oh—! Hitching up her stocking through her robe, piteously. Ha, ha!

Jeyes.

Ha, ha, ha——!

They face one another, laughing, and then she sits upon the fauteuil-stool and drops her head upon the table and he fetches his hat and cane from the box-ottoman.

Lily.

Weeping. Nicko—Nicko——!

Jeyes.

Coming to her. Oh, this isn’t good-bye, Lil, not by any manner o’ means, my dear. We’ll kill the fatted calf several times before I start—you, I, and the boy. Besides, by-and-by, you and he must take a trip and come out to see me. “Seringa Vale” is the farm where I shall be quartered, Bob tells me. Looking into space. Jermyn Street to Seringa Vale! Shaking himself. Ph’h, there are no great distances in these days! To Farncombe, with a change of tone. Farncombe— Farncombe comes forward. You dine with me to-night, recollect; it’s an engagement.

Farncombe.

Yes.

Jeyes.

Eight o’clock.

Farncombe.

Eight o’clock.

Jeyes.

Catani’s.

Farncombe.

Catani’s.

Without looking at Lily again, Jeyes goes to the door and opens it. Farncombe follows him and the two men halt in the doorway.

Jeyes.

To Farncombe, with a motion of his head towards Lily. And afterwards—you fetch her from the theatre and take her home. That’s your job.

Lily.

Rising. Oh——!

Farncombe goes out on to the landing with Jeyes and parts from him at the top of the stairs. Then Farncombe slowly returns, closes the door, and finds Lily sitting upon the settee in a woeful attitude.

Farncombe.

Coming to Lily and standing before her, thoughtfully. Lily——

Lily.

Feebly. Eh—eh——?

Farncombe.

I’m afraid there’s one thing finer than winning the woman you love and, when you’ve won her, being prepared to go through fire and water for her.

Lily.

What’s that?

Farncombe.

Having the courage to give her up, as Jeyes has done.

Lily.

With a renewed outburst. Oh, Nicko! Poor Nicko! Poor Nicko!

Farncombe.

Sitting beside her and taking her hand consolingly. By George, he’s a brick, isn’t he!

Lily.

After a pause, drying her eyes. Eddie——

Farncombe.

Yes?

Lily.

If—if ever we marry——

Farncombe.

His jaw falling. If——!

Lily.

W-w-when, then. When we marry, you’ll be obliged to resign your commission in the Guards, won’t you?

Farncombe.

Snapping his fingers. P’sh! I shan’t care a rap about that.

Lily.

Snatching her hand away. The snobs! The snobs! They’d let you marry any bit of trash in your own set; but a Pandora girl, though she’s as pure as the Queen of England——! Oh, the contemptible snobs!

Farncombe.

Regaining possession of her hand. H’sh! H’sh! It—it’s the practice——

Lily.

Blow the practice! A cheerful reflection for me, it’ll be. The arrant snobs!

Farncombe.

Stroking her hand. Ah! Ah!

Lily.

And then—poor mother! You—you won’t be very proud of poor mother.

Farncombe.

Your mother? Boyishly. Oh, she—she’s an awfully good sort.

Lily.

She hasn’t an H. to her name.

Farncombe.

Inadvertently. She oughtn’t to have.

Lily.

Withdrawing her hand again, sharply. She calls herself Hupjohn, you mean!

Farncombe.

Distressed. No, no, no. In a difficulty. Er—at any rate, h’s don’t lead you to heaven, do they?

Lily.

Gloomily. You’re right; mother’s lead her to ’eaven. Rising and walking away. Well, you’d better go now.

Farncombe.

Rising. And to-night——?

Lily.

No; I’ll come home alone.

Farncombe.

Lily——!

Lily.

Imperatively. Please——!

Farncombe.

When——?

Lily.

Moving to the door on the left. Not for two or three days. Give me time to shake down over this.

Farncombe.

Taking up his hat and cane which he has left upon the centre table. Sunday?

Lily.

Fretfully. No.

Farncombe.

Monday?

Lily.

Opening the door. No.

Farncombe.

Joining her at the door. Tuesday?

Lily.

Appealingly. I—I’ll write. Again he takes her hand, she keeping him at a distance. He attempts to lessen the distance, but she checks him, shaking her head. Not just yet, Eddie. He smiles at her tenderly and, with a bow, departs. From the doorway, she watches him disappear; then she shuts the door and wanders listlessly to the door of the bedroom. Her hand lingers upon the knob for a moment, and then she opens the door a little way and calls. Mother! Mother——!

She leaves the door and is returning to the settee when Mrs. Upjohn enters.

Mrs. Upjohn.

All agog. Yes, Lil? Lily seats herself upon the settee without speaking.