But let me give you a solemn warning. You have a magnificent chance, dear boy, with all the advantages of wealth and station. I beseech you not to throw it away by any exhibition of talent. The field is clear and the British people are waiting for a leader. But remember that the British people like their leaders dull. Capacity they mistrust, versatility they cannot bear, and wit they utterly abhor. Look at the fate of poor Lord Parnaby. His urbanity gained him the premiership, but his brilliancy overthrew him. How could the fortunes of the nation be safe with a man whose speeches were pointed and sparkling, whose mind was so quick, so agile, that it reminded you of a fencer's play? Every one is agreed that Lord Parnaby is flippant and unsubstantial; we doubt his principles and we have grave fears about his morality. Take warning, my dear boy, take warning. Let the sprightly epigram never lighten the long periods of your speech nor the Attic salt flavour the roast beef of your conversation. Be careful that your metaphors show no imagination and conceal your brains as you would a discreditable secret. Above all, if you have a sense of humour, crush it. Crush it.
My dear uncle, you move me very much. I will be as stupid as an owl.
There's a good, brave boy.
I will be heavy and tedious.
I see already the riband of the Garter adorning your shirt-front. Remember, there's no damned merit about that.
None shall listen to my speeches without falling into a profound sleep.
[Seizing his hand.] The premiership itself is within your grasp.
Dear Paradine, let us take a stroll on the terrace before we go to bed.
And you shall softly whisper all the latest scandal in my ear.
[He puts on her cloak and they go out.
May I speak to you, Admiral?
Certainly, certainly. What can I do for you?
[While Lady Frederick and the Admiral talk, the others go slowly out. Through the conversation she uses her Irish brogue.
Are you in a good temper?
Fairly, fairly.
I'm glad of that because I want to make you a proposal of marriage.
My dear Lady Frederick, you take me entirely by surprise.
[Laughing.] Not on my own behalf, you know.
Oh, I see.
The fact is, my brother Gerald has asked your daughter to marry him, and she has accepted.
Rose is a minx, Lady Frederick, and she's much too young to marry.
Now don't fly into a passion. We're going to talk it over quite calmly.
I tell you I won't hear of it. The boy's penniless.
That's why it's so lucky you're rich.
Eh?
You've been talking of buying a place in Ireland. You couldn't want anything nicer than Gerald's – gravel soil, you know. And you simply dote on Elizabethan architecture.
I can't bear it.
How fortunate, then, that the house was burnt down in the eighteenth century and rebuilt in the best Georgian style.
Ugh.
And you'd love to have little grandsons to dandle on your knee.
How do I know they wouldn't be girls?
Oh, it's most unusual in our family.
I tell you I won't hear of it.
You know, it's not bad to have the oldest baronetcy in the country but one.
I suppose I shall have to pack Rose off to England.
And break her heart?
Women's hearts are like old china, none the worse for a break or two.
Did you ever know my husband, Admiral?
Yes.
I was married to him at seventeen because my mother thought it a good match, and I was desperately in love with another man. Before we'd been married a fortnight he came home blind drunk, and I had never seen a drunken man before. Then I found out he was a confirmed tippler. I was so ashamed. If you only knew what my life was for the ten years I lived with him. I've done a lot of foolish things in my time, but, my God, I have suffered.
Yes, I know, I know.
And believe me, when two young things love one another it's better to let them marry. Love is so very rare in this world. One really ought to make the most of it when it's there.
I'm very sorry, but I've made up my mind.
Ah, but won't you alter it – like Nelson. Don't be hard on Rose. She's really in love with Gerald. Do give them a chance. Won't you? Ah, do – there's a dear.
I don't want to hurt your feelings, but Sir Gerald is about the most ineligible young man that I've ever come across.
[Triumphantly.] There, I knew we should agree. That's precisely what I told him this morning.
I understand his place is heavily mortgaged.
No one will lend a penny more on it. If they would Gerald would borrow it at once.
He's got nothing but his pay to live upon.
And his tastes are very extravagant.
He's a gambler.
Yes, but then he's so good looking.
Eh?
I'm glad that we agree so entirely about him. Now there's nothing left but to call the young things in, join their hands and give them our united blessing.
Before I consent to this marriage, madam, I'll see your brother —
Damned?
Yes, madam, damned.
Now listen to me quietly, will you?
I should warn you, Lady Frederick, that when I once make up my mind about a thing, I never change it.
Now that is what I really admire. I like a man of character. You know, I've always been impressed by your strength and determination.
I don't know about that. But when I say a thing, I do it.
Yes, I know. And in five minutes you're going to say that Gerald may marry your pretty Rose.
No, no, no.
Now look here, don't be obstinate, I don't like you when you're obstinate.
I'm not obstinate. I'm firm.
After all, Gerald has lots of good qualities. He's simply devoted to your daughter. He's been a little wild, but you know you wouldn't give much for a young man who hadn't.
[Gruffly.] I don't want a milksop for a son-in-law.
As soon as he's married, he'll settle into a model country squire.
Well, he's a gambler, and I can't get over that.
Shall he promise you never to play cards again? Now, don't be horrid. You don't want to make me utterly wretched, do you?
[Unwillingly.] Well, I'll tell you what I'll do – they shall marry if he doesn't gamble for a year.
Oh, you duck. [She impulsively throws her arms round his neck and kisses him. He is a good deal taken aback.] I beg your pardon, I couldn't help it.
I don't altogether object, you know.
Upon my word, in some ways you're rather fascinating.
D'you think so, really?
I do indeed.
I rather wish that proposal of marriage had been on your own behalf.
Ah, with me, dear Admiral, experience triumphs over hope. I must tell the children. [Calling.] Gerald, come here. Rose.
[Gerald and Rose come in.
I always knew your father was a perfect darling, Rose.
Oh, papa, you are a brick.
I thoroughly disapprove of the marriage, my dear, but – it's not easy to say no to Lady Frederick.
It's awfully good of you, Admiral, and I'll do my best to make Rose a ripping husband.
Not so fast, young man, not so fast. There's a condition.
Oh, father!
Gerald is to behave himself for a year, and then you may marry.
But won't Gerald grow very dull if he behaves himself?
I have no doubt of it. But dullness is the first requisite of a good husband.
Now you must pack off to bed, my dear. I'm going to smoke my pipe before turning in.
[Kissing Lady Frederick.] Good-night, dearest. I'll never forget your kindness.
You'd better not thank me till you've been married a few years.
[Holding out her hand to GERALD.] Good-night.
[Taking it and looking at her.] Good-night.
[Gruffly.] You may as well do it in front of my face as behind my back.
[Lifting up her lips.] Good-night.
[He kisses her, and the Admiral and Rose go out.
Oh lord, I wish I were eighteen.
[She sinks into a chair, and an expression of utter weariness comes over her face.
I say, what's up?
[Starting.] I thought you'd gone. Nothing.
Come, out with it.
Oh, my poor boy, if you only knew. I'm so worried that I don't know what on earth to do.
Money?
Last year I made a solemn determination to be economical. And it's ruined me.
My dear, how could it?
I can't make it out. It seems very unfair. The more I tried not to be extravagant, the more I spent.
Can't you borrow?
[Laughing.] I have borrowed. That's just it.
Well, borrow again.
I've tried to. But no one's such a fool as to lend me a penny.
Did you say I'd sign anything they liked?
I was so desperate I said we'd both sign anything. It was Dick Cohen.
Oh lord, what did he say?
[Imitating a Jewish accent.] What's the good of wathting a nithe clean sheet of paper, my dear lady?
[Shouting with laughter.] By George, don't I know it.
For heaven's sake don't let's talk of my affairs. They're in such a state that if I think of them at all I shall have a violent fit of hysterics.
But look here, what d'you really mean?
Well, if you want it – I owe my dressmaker seven hundred pounds, and last year I signed two horrid bills, one for fifteen hundred and the other for two thousand. They fall due the day after to-morrow, and if I can't raise the money I shall have to go through the Bankruptcy Court.
By George, that's serious.
It's so serious that I can't help thinking something will happen. Whenever I've got in a really tight fix something has turned up and put me on my legs again. Last time, Aunt Elizabeth had an apoplectic fit. But of course it wasn't really very profitable because mourning is so desperately expensive.
Why don't you marry?
Oh, my dear Gerald, you know I'm always unlucky at games of chance.
Charlie Mereston's awfully gone on you.
That must be obvious to the meanest intelligence.
Well, why don't you have him?
Good heavens, I'm old enough to be his mother.
Nonsense. You're only ten years older than he is, and nowadays no nice young man marries a woman younger than himself.
He's such a good fellow. I couldn't do him a nasty turn like that.
How about Montgomerie? He simply stinks of money, and he's not a bad sort.
[Surprised.] My dear boy, I hardly know him.
Well, I'm afraid it means marriage or bankruptcy.
Here's Charlie. Take him away, there's a dear. I want to talk to Paradine.
Enter Paradine Fouldes with Mereston.
What, still here, Lady Frederick?
As large as life.
We've been taking a turn on the terrace.
[To Mereston.] And has your astute uncle been pumping you, Charlie?
Eh, what?
I don't think he got much out of me.
[Good-naturedly.] All I wanted, dear boy. There's no one so transparent as the person who thinks he's devilish deep. By the way, what's the time?
About eleven, isn't it?
Ah! How old are you, Charlie?
Twenty-two.
Then it's high time you went to bed.
Charlie's not going to bed till I tell him. Are you?
Of course not.
Has it escaped your acute intelligence, my friend, that I want to talk to Lady Frederick?
Not at all. But I have no reason to believe that Lady Frederick wants to talk to you.
Let's go and have a game of pills, Charlie.
D'you want to be left alone with the old villain?
You show no respect for my dyed hairs, young man.
I've not seen him for years, you know.
Oh, all right. I say, you're coming for a ride to-morrow, aren't you?
Certainly. But it must be in the afternoon.
I'm sorry, but Charles has arranged to motor me over to Nice in the afternoon.
[To Lady Frederick.] That'll suit me A 1. I had an engagement, but it was quite unimportant.
Then that's settled. Good-night.
Good-night.
[He goes out with Gerald. Lady Frederick turns and good-humouredly scrutinises Paradise Fouldes.
Well?
Well?
You wear excellently, Paradine.
Thanks.
How do you manage it?
By getting up late and never going to bed early, by eating whatever I like and drinking whenever I'm thirsty, by smoking strong cigars, taking no exercise, and refusing under any circumstances to be bored.
I'm sorry you had to leave town in such a hurry. Were you amusing yourself?
I come to the Riviera every year.
I daresay, but not so early.
I've never surrendered so far to middle age as to make habits.
My dear Paradine, the day before yesterday, Lady Mereston, quite distracted, went to the post office and sent you the following wire: "Come at once, your help urgently needed. Charlie in toils designing female, Maud." Am I right?
I never admit even to myself that a well-dressed woman is mistaken.
So you started post-haste, bent upon protecting your nephew, and were infinitely surprised to learn that the designing female was no other than your humble servant.
You'd be irresistible, Lady Frederick, if you didn't know you were so clever.
And now what are you going to do?
My dear lady, I'm not a police officer, but a very harmless, inoffensive old bachelor.
With more wiles than the mother of many daughters and the subtlety of a company promoter.
Maud seems to think that as I've racketted about a little in my time, I'm just the sort of man to deal with you. Set a thief to catch a thief, don't you know? She's rather fond of proverbs.
She should have thought rather of: When Greek meets Greek, then comes the tug of war. I hear Lady Mereston has been saying the most agreeable things about me.
Ah, that's women's fault; they always show their hand. You're the only woman I ever knew who didn't.
[With a brogue.] You should have avoided the Blarney Stone when you went to Ireland.
Look here, d'you want to marry Charlie?
Why should I?
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