John Galsworthy

“ If you don't care for Miss Lanfarne, marry a girl you're fond of.
BILL. I refuse.
SIR WILLIAM. In that case you know what to look out for. [With a sudden rush of choler] You young.... [He checks himself and stands glaring at BILL, who glares back at him] This means, I suppose, that you've got some entanglement or other.
BILL. Suppose what you like, sir.
SITS WILLIAM. I warn you, if you play the blackguard——
BILL. You can't force me like young Dunning.
Hearing the raised voices LADY CHESHIRE has come back from the billiard-room. ”

“ CHRISTINE. Let's go and beg him, Ronny!
KEITH. No earthly! The only hope is in the girl.
DOT. She hasn't the stuff in her!
HAROLD. I say! What price young Dunning! Right about face! Poor old Dad!
CHRISTINE. It's past joking, Harold!
DOT. [Gloomily] Old Studdenham's better than most relations by marriage!
KEITH. Thanks!
CHRISTINE. It's ridiculous—monstrous! It's fantastic!
HAROLD. [Holding up his hand] There's his horse going round. He's in!
They turn from listening to the sound, to see LADY CHESHIRE coming from the billiard-room. She is very pale. ”

“ SIR WILLIAM. [With a quick look] I imagine, you've some girl in your mind.
BILL. Ah!
SIR WILLIAM: Used not to be unnatural at your age. I married your mother at twenty-eight. Here you are, eldest son of a family that stands for something. The more I see of the times the more I'm convinced that everybody who is anybody has got to buckle to, and save the landmarks left. Unless we're true to our caste, and prepared to work for it, the landed classes are going to go under to this infernal democratic spirit in the air. The outlook's very serious. We're threatened in a hundred ways. ”

“ DOT. Drop that cradle, John! [As he picks the footstool out of it] Leave the baby in! Now then! Bill, you enter there! [She points to the workroom door where BILL and MABEL range themselves close to the piano; while HAROLD goes to the window] John! get off the stage! Now then, "Eccles enters breathless, Esther and Polly rise." Wait a minute. I know now. [She opens the workroom door] Freda, I wanted a bandbox.
HAROLD. [Cheerfully] I hate beginning to rehearse, you know, you feel such a fool.
DOT. [With her bandbox-gloomily] You'll feel more of a fool when you have begun. ”

“ MABEL. [Suddenly] What a pretty girl Freda Studdenham's grown!
BILL. Has she?
MABEL. "She walks in beauty."
BILL. Really? Hadn't noticed.
MABEL. Have you been taking lessons in conversation?
BILL. Don't think so.
MABEL. Oh! [There is a silence] Mr. Cheshire!
BILL. Miss Lanfarne!
MABEL. What's the matter with you? Aren't you rather queer, considering that I don't bite, and was rather a pal!
BILL. [Stolidly] I'm sorry.
Then seeing that his mother has came in from the billiard-room, he sits down at the writing-table. ”

“ Shall I send young Dunning, Sir William?
SIR WILLIAM gives a short, sharp nod, and STUDDENHAM retires by the door under the stairs.
SIR WILLIAM. Old fox!
LADY CHESHIRE. Don't be too hard on Dunning. He's very young.
SIR WILLIAM. [Patting her arm] My dear, you don't understand young fellows, how should you?
LADY CHESHIRE. [With her faint irony] A husband and two sons not counting. [Then as the door under the stairs is opened] Bill, now do——
SIR WILLIAM. I'll be gentle with him. [Sharply] Come in!
LADY CHESHIRE retires to the billiard-room. ”

“ The girl's gaze passes on to BILL, standing rigid, with his jaw set.
FREDA. I want— [Then flinging her arm up over her eyes, she turns from him] No!
SIR WILLIAM. Ah!
At that sound of profound relief, STUDDENHAM, whose eyes have been following his daughter's, moves towards SIR WILLIAM, all his emotion turned into sheer angry pride.
STUDDENHAM. Don't be afraid, Sir William! We want none of you! She'll not force herself where she's not welcome. She may ha' slipped her good name, but she'll keep her proper pride. I'll have no charity marriage in my family. ”

“ Miss Lanfarne need never know about me.
BILL. So that's it! I've told you a dozen times—nothing's changed. [FREDA looks at him and smiles.]
BILL. Oh! very well! If you will make yourself miserable.
FREDA. Everybody will be pleased.
BILL. At what?
FREDA. When you marry her.
BILL. This is too bad.
FREDA. It's what always happens—even when it's not a—gentleman.
BILL. That's enough.
FREDA. But I'm not like that girl down in the village. You needn't be afraid I'll say anything when—it comes. That's what I had to tell you. ”

“ CHRISTINE. [Moving with her husband towards the drawing-room] Young Dunning won't marry that girl, Ronny.
KEITH. Phew! Wouldn't be in his shoes, then! Sir William'll never keep a servant who's made a scandal in the village, old girl. Bill come?
As they disappear from the hall, JOHN LATTER in a clergyman's evening dress, comes sedately downstairs, a tall, rather pale young man, with something in him, as it were, both of heaven, and a drawing-room. He passes FREDA with a formal little nod. HAROLD, a fresh-cheeked, cheery-looking youth, comes down, three steps at a time. ”

“ Armchairs encircle a high ferulered hearth, in which a fire is burning. The curtains are not yet drawn across mullioned windows, but electric light is burning. There are two doors, leading, the one to the billiard-room, the other to a corridor. BILL is pacing up and doom; HAROLD, at the fireplace, stands looking at him with commiseration. ”

“ SIR WILLIAM. Now, Dunning, I've no more to say. [Dunning goes sadly away under the stairs.]
SIR WILLIAM. [Following] And look here! Just understand this [He too goes out....] BILL, lighting a cigarette, has approached the writing-table. He looks very glum. The billiard-room door is flung open. MABEL LANFARNE appears, and makes him a little curtsey.
MABEL. Against my will I am bidden to bring you in to pool.
BILL. Sorry! I've got letters.
MABEL. You seem to have become very conscientious. ”

“ DOT's face, like a full moon, appears over the upper banisters. She too comes running down, a frank figure, with the face of a rebel.
DOT. You little being!
JOAN. [Flying towards the drawing-roam, is overtaken at the door] Oh! Dot! You're pinching!
As they disappear into the drawing-room, MABEL LANFARNE, a tall girl with a rather charming Irish face, comes slowly down. And at sight of her FREDA's whole figure becomes set and meaningfull. ”

“ JACKSON. Will you speak to Studdenham, Sir William? It's about young Dunning.
After a moment of dead silence, SIR WILLIAM nods, and the butler withdraws.
BILL. [Stolidly] He'd better be told.
SIR WILLIAM. He shall be.
STUDDENHAM enters, and touches his forehead to them all with a comprehensive gesture.
STUDDENHAM. Good evenin', my lady! Evenin', Sir William!
STUDDENHAM. Glad to be able to tell you, the young man's to do the proper thing. Asked me to let you know, Sir William. Banns'll be up next Sunday. ”

“ HAROLD. Look here, John! You feel in your bones that a marriage'll be hopeless, just as I do, knowing Bill and the girl and everything! Now don't you?
LATTER. The whole thing is—is most unfortunate.
HAROLD. By Jove! I should think it was!
As he speaks CHRISTINE and KEITH Come in from the billiard-room. He is still in splashed hunting clothes, and looks exceptionally weathered, thin-lipped, reticent. He lights a cigarette and sinks into an armchair. Behind them DOT and JOAN have come stealing in.
CHRISTINE. I've told Ronny. ”

“ The dining-room, drawing-room, billiard-room, all open into it; and under the staircase a door leads to the servants' quarters. In a huge fireplace a log fire is burning. There are tiger-skins on the floor, horns on the walls; and a writing-table against the wall opposite the fireplace. FREDA STUDDENHAM, a pretty, pale girl with dark eyes, in the black dress of a lady's-maid, is standing at the foot of the staircase with a bunch of white roses in one hand, and a bunch of yellow roses in the other. A door closes above, and SIR WILLIAM CHESHIRE, in evening dress, comes downstairs. ”

“ FREDA. He's taken up with another girl, they say.
CHRISTINE. Too bad! [Pinning the roses] D'you know if Mr. Bill's come?
FREDA. [With a swift upward look] Yes, by the six-forty.
RONALD KEITH comes slowly down, a weathered firm-lipped man, in evening dress, with eyelids half drawn over his keen eyes, and the air of a horseman.
KEITH. Hallo! Roses in December. I say, Freda, your father missed a wigging this morning when they drew blank at Warnham's spinney. Where's that litter of little foxes? ”

“ She passes him, and rushes away upstairs. And BILL, who stands frowning and looking after her, recovers himself sharply as the drawing-room door is opened, and SIR WILLIAM and MISS LANFARNE come forth, followed by KEITH, DOT, HAROLD, CHRISTINE, LATTER, and JOAN, all leaning across each other, and talking. By herself, behind them, comes LADY CHESHIRE, a refined-looking woman of fifty, with silvery dark hair, and an expression at once gentle, and ironic. They move across the hall towards the dining-room. ”

“ In dead silence again the FOOTMAN goes out, and they all look after him.
HAROLD. [Below his breath] Good Gad! That's a squeeze of it!
KEITH. What's our line of country to be?
CHRISTINE. All depends on father.
KEITH. Sir William's between the devil and the deep sea, as it strikes me.
CHRISTINE. He'll simply forbid it utterly, of course.
KEITH. H'm! Hard case! Man who reads family prayers, and lessons on Sunday forbids son to——
CHRISTINE, Ronny!
KEITH. Great Scott! I'm not saying Bill ought to marry her. She's got to stand the racket. ”

“ BILL. Why don't you say outright that you want me to marry Mabel Lanfarne?
SITS WILLIAM. Well, I do. Girl's a nice one. Good family—got a little money—rides well. Isn't she good-looking enough for you, or what? ”

“ MABEL. Whatever made you choose "Caste," DOT? You know it's awfully difficult.
DOT. Because it's the only play that's not too advanced. [The girls all go into the billiard-room.]
LADY CHESHIRE. Where's Bill, Ronny?
KEITH. [With a grimace] I rather think Sir William and he are in Committee of Supply—Mem-Sahib.
LADY CHESHIRE. Oh!
She looks uneasily at the dining-room; then follows the girls out.
LATTER. [In the tone of one resuming an argument] There can't be two opinions about it, Ronny. Young Dunning's refusal is simply indefensible. ”

“ There comes a mingled sound through the opened door, of female voices, laughter, and the click of billiard balls, dipped of by the sudden closing of the door.
KEITH. [Impersonally] Deuced odd, the way a parson puts one's back up! Because you know I agree with him really; young Dunning ought to play the game; and I hope Sir William'll make him.
The butler JACKSON has entered from the door under the stairs followed by the keeper STUDDENHAM, a man between fifty and sixty, in a full-skirted coat with big pockets, cord breeches, and gaiters ”

“ While she is looking from face to face, BILL comes in from the workroom. He starts to walk across the room, but stops, and looks stolidly at the four girls.
BILL. Exactly! Fact of the matter is, Miss Lanfarne, I'm engaged to my mother's maid.
No one moves or speaks. Suddenly MABEL LANFARNE goes towards him, holding out her hand. BILL does not take her hand, but bows. Then after a swift glance at the girls' faces MABEL goes out into the corridor, and the three girls are left staring at their brother. ”

“ Listen to me. I love my son, but I know him—I know all his kind of man. I've lived with one for thirty years. I know the way their senses work. When they want a thing they must have it, and then—they're sorry. ”

“ I admit that I don't like a fellow's leavin' a girl in the lurch; but I don't see the use in drawin' hard and fast rules. You only have to break 'em. Sir William and you would just tie Dunning and the girl up together, willy-nilly, to save appearances, and ten to one but there'll be the deuce to pay in a year's time. You can take a horse to the water, you can't make him drink. ”

“ He is perhaps fifty-eight, of strong build, rather bull-necked, with grey eyes, and a well-coloured face, whose choleric autocracy is veiled by a thin urbanity. He speaks before he reaches the bottom.
SIR WILLIAM. Well, Freda! Nice roses. Who are they for?
FREDA. My lady told me to give the yellow to Mrs. Keith, Sir William, and the white to Miss Lanfarne, for their first evening.
SIR WILLIAM. Capital. [Passing on towards the drawing-room] Your father coming up to-night? ”

“ We shall—get on as best we can without you. [There is a dead silence till he adds sharply] Well!
BILL. I shall marry her.
LADY CHESHIRE. Oh! Bill! Without love-without anything!
BILL. All right, mother! [To SIR WILLIAM] you've mistaken your man, sir. Because I'm a rotter in one way, I'm not necessarily a rotter in all. You put the butt end of the pistol to Dunning's head yesterday, you put the other end to mine to-day. Well! [He turns round to go out] Let the d—-d thing off!
LADY CHESHIRE. Bill!
BILL. [Turning to her] I'm not going to leave her in the lurch. ”

“ MABEL. Oh! no, Mr. Latter!
LATTER. I don't in the least want to destroy the balance of the scene, but I do want to be clear about the spirit. What is the spirit?
DOT. [With gloom] Rollicking!
LATTER. Well, I don't think so. We shall run a great risk, with this play, if we rollick.
DOT. Shall we? Now look here——!
MABEL. [Softly to BILL] Mr. Cheshire!
BILL. [Desperately] Let's get on!
DOT. [Waving LATTER back] Begin, begin! At last! [But JACKSON has came in.]
JACKSON. [To CHRISTINE] Studdenham says, Mm, if the young ladies want to see the spaniel pups, he's brought 'em round. ”

“ There are plenty in these days who'll be glad enough for this to happen; plenty of these d—-d Socialists and Radicals, who'll laugh their souls out over what they haven't the bowels to sees a—tragedy. ”