Author ^^*«>/' •* jV e Robbers ^U4 Katharine and Petruchio VOL. XIV, 106 Game of Love lOti Midsummer Night's 107 Ernestine [Dreain 108 Rag Picker of Paris 109 Flying Dutchman 110 Hypocrite 111 Therese 112 La Tour de Nesle VOL. XV. 113 Ireland As It Is 114 Sea of Ice 115 Seven Clerks 116 Game of Life 117 Forty Thieves 118 Bryan Boroihme 119 Romance and Reality I'JO Ugolino VOL. XVL 121 The Tempest \^-i The Pilot li3 Carpenter of Rouen 1/4 King's Rival 125 Little Treasure 126 Dombey and Son 127 Parents and Guardians 128 Jewe.«s .VOL. XVIL 129 Camille ISO Married Life l;-!l Wenloi'k of Wenlock i'i-i Rose of Etirickvale 13.S David Copjierfield 134 Aline, or the Rose [Moscow ■>. I. . 1 Av 1 XT ,i.- i'35 Pauline [Killarney Much Ado AboutNothing i3g j^^^ g^.^^ ■ -i- ■ The ( ritic - , vnr viir \OL. xvin. Ti. A .. 137 Night and Morning T itrN^t* i3s>«thiop Tweltt1>N.ght r« Three (Guardsmen ^'■"^"* , - 140 Tom Cringle Smip*on 4 Co ' VOL. XXL 161 All's Fair in Lov« 162 Hofer 16;i Self 164 Cinderella IGa Phantom 166 Franklin 167 The Gunmaker of 168 The Love of a Prince VOL. XXII. 169 Son of tbe Night 170 Rorv O'More 171 Goldeh Eagle 172 Rienzi 17.? Brokeu Sword 174 Rip Van Winkle 175 Isabel le 176 Heart of Mid Lothian " VOL. XXIII. 177 Actress of Padua 178 t" loating Beacon 179 Bride of Lammermoor Is I Cataract of the Gauges 181 Rohber of the Rhine 182 School ot Reform 188 Wandering Boys 184 Mazeppa VOL. XXIV. lS5 Young New York 186 The Victi:iis 187 Romance after Marriage 188 Bng.and 189 Poor of New York 190 Ambrose Gwinett 191 Raymond ami Agnes 192 Gambler's Fate VOi- XXV. 1193 Father and Son 194 M.issaniello 195 Sixteen Siring Jack 196 Youthlul Queen 197 Skeleton Witness 198 Innkeeper of Abbeville 199 Miller and his Men 200 Aladdin VOL. XXVI. 201 Adrienne the Actress 202 Undine 203 Jesse Brown 204 Asmodeus 205 Mormons 206 Bl.inche of Brandywine 207 Viola 208 Deseret Deserted VOL. XXVII. 209 Americans in Paris 210 Vict.irine 211 Wizard of the Wave 212 Castle Spectre 213 Horse-shoe Robinson of 21 t Armand, Mr^. Monatt 21 > Fashion, Mrs. Mowatt 216 Glanci at New York VOL. XXVIIL 217 Inconstant 218 Uncle Tom's Cabin 219 Guide to the Stage 220 Veteran m 61 Merchant of Venice 62 63 64 141 llenriette, the Forsaken 142 Eustache Baudin Old HeadsA Young Hearts I, J- y^^^^^ .MaUravers Mountaineers [""tf Three Weeks aft^r Mar- VOL. IX. Love As You Like It The Elder Brother Werner Giaippus Town and Country King Li-ar Blue Devils VOL. X. Henry VIII Married and Single Henrv IV Paul 't'ry Guy Mannering Sweethearts and Wives Serious F'am'.ly She Stoops to Conquer 144 Bold Dragoons VOL. XIX. 145 Dred, or the Dismal [Sw.imp 146 Last Days of Pompeii 147 Esmeralda 148 Peter WiUins 149 Ben the Boitswain 160 Jonathan Bradford 1.11 Retribution 152 Mineral! VOL. XX. 1.13 French Spy 154 V\ ii)t of Wish-ton Wish 155 Evil Genius 156 Ben Bolt 167 Sailor of France 158 Red Mask 159 Life of an Actress 189 Wedding Day VOL. XXXI. 241 Merrv Wives of Windsor 242 Mary's Birthday 243 Shandy Maguire 244 Wild Oats 24.1 Michael Erie •-45 Idiot Witness 247 W^illow Copse 245 People's Lawyer VOL. xxxir. 249 The Boy Martyrs 250 Lucretia Borgia 251 Surgton of Paris 252 Patrician's Daughter 253 Shoemaker of Touf'Use 254 Momentous Question 255 Love and Loyaky 256 Robber's Wffe I VOL. XXXIIL !2o7 Duinb Girl of Genoa 12 8 Wreck Ashore 259 Clari 260 Rural Felicity 261 Wallace •262 Madelaine 263 Tbe Fireman 264 Grist to the Mill VOL. XXXIV. 265 Two Loves and a Life 266 Annie Blake 267 Steward 268 Captain Kvd 269 Ni(k of the Woods 270 Marble Heart •271 Send L 275 Lady of the Lake 276 Still Water Ruu.s Deep 277 The .'Scholar 278 Helping Hands 279 Faust and Marguerite 280 Last Man VOL. XXXVT. 281 Belle's Stratagem 282 Old and Young 2-S3 Raftaella 284 Ruth Oaklev •285 British Slave 2*6 A Life's Ransom 287 Giralda •28i^Time Tries All VOL. XXXVII. 289 Ella Rosen l.urg •-'Vi\) V\'arlock o^the Glen •291 Zelina 292 Beati ice J2'3 Neighbor Jack wood l2H4 Wunder 295 Robert Emmet •296 Green Bushes VOL. XXXVIIL 297 Flowers ol the Forest 298 A liachfclor of Arts 299 The Midnight Banquet iSOo Husband of nn Hour 301 Love's Labor Lost 221 Miller of New Jersey 222 Dark Hour before Dawn i.,., »,, . , „ 223 Mids.tm'rNight'sDre.ainl:^'^; N"'*:' Q"**" [Laura Keene's Editionj;^'^] ^l''n? 224 Art and Artifice VOL. XXIX. 225 Poor Young Man 226 Ossawaltomie Brown 2-27 Pope of Rome \fi^ Oliver Twist O'J!* Pauvrette 230 Man in the Iron Mask 231 Knight of Arva 232 Moll Pitcher VOL. XXX. 233 Black Eyed Susan :'.'A Satan in P.aris '.'35 Rosina Meadows [ess 236 West End, or Irish Heir-j:;i6 t'oriolanus 237 Six Degrees of Crime |317 The Winter's Tale •238 The L.ady and the Devil '318 Eveleen Wilton '239 Avenger, or Moor of Sici-I.S 19 Ivanhoe •240 Masks and Faces [ly 320 Jonathan in England (^French's Standard Drama Continued on jd page of Cover.) 304 Cradle of Liberty VOL. XXXLK. 305 Tlie Lost Ship 306 Country Squire 307 Fraud and its Victims 308 Putnam 309 King and Dcsertfr 310 La Fiammina 311 A Hard Struggle 312 Owinnette Vaughan VOL. XL. ' . 313 The Love Knot [Judge 314 Lavater, or Not a Bad 315 The Noble Heart Xma MRS. WKTHROP A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS r\/VO COPIES RECEIVED. ,LJbrary of Congret% Offk« of tht NOV 1 7 1809 R«gUt«r of Capyrfghtft BY BRONSON HOWARD Copyright, 1899, By Laura A. Palmer New York SAMUEL FRENCH PUBLISHER 26 WEST 22D STREET London SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd. 89 STRAND Young Mrs. Winthrop Madison Square Theatre, N. Y., original cast, Oct. 9th, 1882. - CAST OF CHARACTERS. ^'^ ^^""o'^ Mrs. Ruth Winthrop Mrs. Whiffen. n^ Mr. Douglas Winthrop (her son) . Geo. Clarke. Constance Winthrop (his wife) . Carrie Turner. Buxton Scott (a lawyer) .... Thos. Whiffen. Mrs. Dick Chetwyn (a lady of society) Agnes Booth. Edith (sister of Constance) . . . Maude Stuart. Herbert Henry Miller. Dr. Mellbanke ....... W. J. Lemoyne. John (a footman) Mr. A. T. Smith. Time, the present. Play, 2 hours, 7 minutes. looth Performance, January 12, 1883. 150th " March 5, 1883. Last " April 7, 1883. We fell out, my wife and I, O we tell out — I know not why — And kiss'd again with tears. For when we came where lies the child We lost in other years There above the little grave, O there above the liitle grave, We kiss'd again with tears. Tennyson. YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. ACT FIRST. Scene. — Interior of a private residence of a man of wealth in New York. Door R. i E, ; also R. u. E. A matitel and fire R., near front. An easel^ with por- trait of a beautiful little girl of four years, up C Small sl^nd or table down L. c. A number of pres- ents for a child's birthday, ott chairs and other pieces of furtiiture, c. and L. C. So7ne of these presents must be such as are referred to in the dialogue. Evening. Lights for ordi)iary fa7uily life. Discovered, Mrs. Ruth Winthrop, sitting down, l. She has a doll, partly dressed in her lap, and is working. She is singing a lullaby, as she works, when the curtaifi rises. Mrs. Ruth, (l.) There, Miss Dolly ! {tying ribbon on the doll and holding it up) you will have a beautiful little mother to-morrow, and I shall be your great-grand- mother. Your name is to be " Ruth " — after me — how do you like it ? Your little mother has a very large fam- ily already, but I am sure she will love you more than any of the rest, {crosses to R. by fire, kisses the doll) Lie here, my pet. {holding the doll to her breust) You must go to sleep at once, for mother Rosie will be up very early in the morning, {enter Douglas up L.) H-s-h I {sings as at rise of curtain, patting the doll) Doug, {at the back of her chair, leaiiittg over her) Playing with a doll, mother ? Mrs. Ruth. Douglas ! {looking tip and laughing quietly) Yes. I had forgotten my gray hairs. I was a child again, like Rosie. We old folks grow young again in our grandchildren. 3 4 YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. Doug. You'v^e never grown old, mother. You've al- ways been living the same sweet loving life. Mrs. Ruth, (with a quiet laugh) Leave any woman alone with a doll five minutes, and she will be holding it to her heart without knowing it. Doug, {with a sigh, up c.) Ah ! mother, I'm afraid some women outgrow it. Where is Constance ? Mrs. Ruth. In her room. Doug. Is she, too, at work for Rosie's birthday ? Mrs. Ruth. Well — no — not just now. She is dressing for the reception at Mrs. Warrington's. Doug. Ah ! I did not know she was going. Mrs. Ruth. You have forgotten it ? You have barely time to get ready. Doug. Herbert will look after Constance. I have an- other engagement ; I'm going to supper at the club. I must dress at once. Good-night, mother — if I do not see you again. Mrs. Ruth. Good-night, my son. {rising, he kisses her and moves to the door up R.) Doug, {stopping. Aside) I asked Constance not to go to-night, {exit up R.) Mrs. Ruth, {alone. Looking after Douglas and shaking her head) Douglas and Constance see less and less of each other every day. I am very anxious for them. '• Business " and " the club," and the " duties of society," are changing them into mere acquaintances. Every time 1 have visited them, for the last two years, I have found them more indifferent, colder to each other. Love, even like theirs, cannot live. It is terrible — terrible ! But I — I can only look on and be silent, {sits L. C.) Enter Herbert, up r. Herbert, (c.) Aunt Ruth ! Mrs. Ruth, {seated, l. c.) Herbert ! What's the matter ? Her. I've got to go to the ball to-night with Constance. Uncle Douglas isn't going. He says he has an engage- ment at the club. He always has an engagement at the club — or somewhere — and he always leaves me to go out with Constance. This is the fourth time in one week. I hate balls, {crossing R. C. and sitting on couch) Mrs. Ruth. You hate balls ! You were very fond of them last winter. You went nearly every evening, YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. $ Her. It was different then. Where is Edith ? Mrs. Ruth. Edith ? {looking up significantly — then after a pause) She's with Rosie. Her. {after a pause) Aunt Ruth, how much income ought a man to have before he can get married ; not enough to make a show on, but for him and his wife to live happily together ? Mrs. Ruth. That depends, my dear boy, on how much they love each other. Two people who love each other very much can be exceedingly happy on a very moderate income. Her. Well — I'm sure I love her enough to be happy on nothing at all. Mrs. Ruth. Her ? Her. Oh ! Aunt Ruth {crossing to her) I can't talk to any one else about it ; but — {taking her hand j she looking up in his face smiling) everybody can talk to you. I — I do love Edith. Mrs. Ruth. My dear boy, I know it. Her. My salary is only twelve hundred dollars a year ; but Uncle Douglas told me to-day he will raise it to fifteen hundred after the first of March. That's because I have been working so hard — ever since I first began to — to feel that Edith might share it with me, I've saved five hun- dred dollars since then. I never saved a cent before. I have been wearing my old clothes, and I have my gloves cleaned — I don't care whether they smell of turpentine or not, when I go to balls, now, with Constance — and I've given up cigars. I do love Edith. Mrs. Ruth. You have chosen the very best way to make love to her ; working hard and saving your money for her sake. But I will speak to you as if I were her mother, Herbert ; for her own mother and her father lie side by side in the churchyard at Concord. Have you really thought what it means to marry a blind girl, like Edith. Her. {with enthusiasm increasing as he proceeds) It means, Aunt Ruth, that I shall always have to take care of her, as if she were a little child ; it means that I shall be her whole world ; I shall be her protector ; she will depend upon me for everything ; I shall have to work for her, and oh ! how hard I shall work, when she is at our home thinking of me. I love her all the more for being blind. 6 YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. Mrs. Ruth. You have thought about it, my boy. If Edith loves you, even her blindness need not keep you apart. Her. If — she loves me. — {goes L. Sighs) I — I can never tell whether she does or not. She doesn't seem to know the difference between loving me and loving any of you. I might as well try to make love to little Rosie as to Edith. Mrs. Ruth. She knows as little about it as Rosie. Her. Yes. {with a s?nile) That's because she's blind. I love her blindness. Mrs. Ruth. No one has ever spoken to her of love or marriage. She lives in a little world of her own. You must wait for her woman's nature to assert itself in her heart. Her. I thought, perhaps, you might help me a little. Mrs. Ruth. Help you ? Her. If you would talk to her about it, just to let her know that when /tell her — I love her — it isn't quite the same thing — as — as any of you loving her, you know. Mrs. Ruth. It is awkward for a young lover, isn't it, Herbert ? Perhaps I can do something for you. But you are only twenty-two, and Edith is only seventeen. You can both wait. Enter Constance up r. She is in full eve7iing dress, cloak over arjn^fan, etc. Crosses c. Lays cloak on chair by door C. Cons, {as she enters') Are you ready, Herbert ? Not dressed yet ? Her. Eh ? — Oh ? {suddejtly boltijig across stage) It won't take me ten minutes, {aside) I hate these balls. {exit up R.) Cons. The boy is always late now. {taking up doll. Table L.) You have finished Rosie's doll. What a sweet little lady she is. {laughs lightly — theti with a sigh) I could not finish the doll I was dressing for Rosie. I have had no time to do anything for my child's birthday. {crossing to R., carrying doll) I was obliged to send down town at the last moment, this afternoon — and — and — buy a present for her. {sits R. c.) Mrs. Ruth, {crossing r. c.) And here it is. Rosie will be delighted with it. Cons, {shaking her head sadly) Rosie will love this YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. 7 doll better than that. Children seem to feel the difference between what is made for them with loving hands, and what is only bought with money. Rosie can look so far into one's heart with those great blue eyes of hers. I sometimes tremble when my child and I are together. Mrs. Ruth, {tenderly) When Rosie looks into your heart, Constance, I am sure she finds a great and true love there for her. Cons, {rises) It is there — yes— it is there ; but so many other things are there, too — I — I — sometimes fear the child cannot always find it. {crossing, putting doll on table L.) Mrs. Ruth, (c.) We shall have a merry day to-mor- row, Constance. Rosie will be awake long before break- fast. Edith and I have promised to be up as soon as she is, and bring her down to see the presents ; and when you and Douglas come down (Constance suddenly strikes bell on table L. c.) Cons. I shall be up as early as you, mother. Mrs. Ruth. Rosie will wake before six. Enter John up r. u. e. Cons, {to John) Have me called at five o'clock to- morrow, John. John. Yes, madam, {exit up L.) Mrs. Ruth. You will not be in bed before three. Cons. If I can spare time for a fashionable ball to- night I need not rob my child of it on her birthday. I, too, shall be with Rosie all day, to-morrow. Mrs. Ruth. Oh ! We shall have a happy day, all of us. But I fear Edith may have some difficulty in getting Rosie to sleep, the child has so many plans in her head for to-morrow. I will go to them. I hope you will have a pleasant time this evening, Constance. Good-night. {crossing R.) Cons, {kissing her) Good-night, mother, dear, {exit Mrs. Ruth, r. i e.) Shall I go to Mrs. Warrington's to-night t Douglas was very much in earnest when he asked me not to go. But he is going to his club. He is never at home. I must go. If I stay at home, I cannot help thinking. Oh ! if I had died before his neglect began ! I — {slowly, as if a tnore painful thought had come into her mind) I sometimes feel that — Douglas and I — {sees the child's picture, goes up c.) No ! Rosie ! She 8 YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. belongs to us both ! She will hold us together, {stands a mo7nent in thought, then smiling) How prettily she threw her arms about my neck and kissed me good-night just now. Shall I go to Mrs. Warrington's ? Enter JOUN up l. with a letter. John. A letter for Mr. Winthrop — by messenger. No answer, madam. Cons. I will give it to him. {taking letter. Exit John) Shall I go to-night ? (looking at letter in her hand. Raises it to her face as if attracted by the odor) Violet ! It is not a business letter ! A lady's handwrit- ing ! {she turns the letter) A dove and a serpent as a crest — H. D. — from Mrs. Hepworth Dunbar, {leaves note on table R. C. and crosses to L.) Enter Douglas, now in dress suit, up R. Doug. Constance ! {stopping c.) Cons. Douglas ! Doug. You are in full dress, I see. Cons. Madam de Battiste's latest inspiration. Do you like it ? Doug. It is a very becoming costume, my dear. Cons. You are in evening dress. You are going to accompany me .'* Doug. I am engaged for a supper at the club with Dick Chetwyn. Cons. John just brought in a note for you — it is on the table. Doug. Ah ! [turning to table. Constance watches him as he opens and reads letter) Cons, {turning away with her back toward him) Anything important, Douglas ? (L. of table L. c.) Doug, {after lookitig across at her quietly, then placing letter in his pocket) Merely a business matter. {turning to presents C. and L. C.) Rosie will be quite overwhelmed with her birthday presents to-morrow. Cons, {aside) Business! {at mantel "L. i T^.) Doug. I ordered a httle walnut bedstead. Ah ! here it is. A dressing-table and mirror, with cut-glass perfumery bottles, and a box of cosmetics, and a tiny jewelry casket. {reads card) " Mrs. Richard Chetwyn." A very charac- teristic present. (R. C.) Here is a magnificent doll, in YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. 9 full ball costume, with real lace and a long train, and a coiffure. Another of our ultra-fashionable friends sent that, I suppose. It does seem a pity to put such ideas into the head of an innocent child, {leans over and reads card) " From Rosie's mamma." {he glances at Constance) Forgive me, Constance, I was speaking thoughtlessly. Any expression of a mother's love is sacred to me. Constance — I — I — am very sorry to see you in that costume to-night, {back of table L. c.) Cons. You did not wish me to go to Mrs. Warrington's ? Doug, {coming l. c. down) Mrs. Warrington's house is a centre of a certain kind of fashionable society in New York. The men are rich and fast, and the wives vie with the men in the display of their riches. Constance, you have never cared for this extremely " fashionable " circle until within a year or two. Cons. I had no reason to seek it. Doug. Reason ? Cons. Some women find, in the gayeties of this so- ciety, something to compensate them for what they do not find at home. Doug, {quickly) What do you mean, Constance ? Enter John with a card. John. Madam ! (Constance takes card. Exit John. Douglas goes r. c.) Cons, {reading card) " Mrs, Richard Chetwyn " — (turning card over) " Dick is going somewhere to- night, so I'll come around and go to Mrs. Warrington's with you." {front of table.) Doug. Constance, it is my earnest wish that you should not go to the ball to-night, {pause) I — I am sorry that I am compelled to speak so strongly, but I — I insist. Cons. Am I to understand that you command me not to go ? Doug. I did not use that word, Constance. I will never use it. I have too much respect for you to do that. Cons, {aside) Respect ! {she drops into a chair R. of table L. c, her face in her hands, on the back of the chair. He crosses to her, looking dow7t at her tenderly) Doug. Constance — my wife ! When we were mar- ried, six years ago, in the old church at Concord, as we knelt to receive the blessing of the pastor — your own dear lo YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP, father — a ray of bright sunshine coming through the window fell upon our heads. For many a month after that sunlight seemed to rest upon us, and when Rosie came, the pastor's blessing seemed to be fulfilled. Con- stance, I — I have tried to be a kind husband to you. Cons. A — kind — husband — yes. Doug. And you have been a true, sincere, and de- voted wife to me ; yet, for the last two years or more, we have been drifting apart further and further. You speak of compensation in that fashionable world for something that you do not find at home. Are you likely to find any- thing there to compensate you for the happiness which you once found here ? Does Mrs, Warrington, or Mrs. Maxwell, or Mrs. Dunbar fulfil your idea of a truly happy woman ? No, Constance. Cons. Mrs. Dunbar is a leader of the circle. Doug. Yes. I believe she is the worst of the set. I am glad to know that you have no personal acquaintance with her. A woman who respects herself ought to avoid such a person, {crosses R.) Cons. That is your opinion of Mrs. Hepworth Dun- bar ? Doug. It is. And I trust that my wife will never be seen in her company, [looks at his watch) But 1 am late, (goes to door up L. — pauses, turns, goes back to Constance) Constance — I — was wrong to use the word " insist," a moment ago. I feel sure that you will stay at home to-night, not because I " insist " but because it is my earnest — wish. Good-night. Cons. Good-night. (Douglas is moving up l. Con- stance rises on hearing Scott's voice) Enter BuxTON Scott up l., holditig a huge package before him. Scott, {as he enters) Ah ! How is the happy mother — and the father — to-night ? Cons. a7td Doug. (l. r.) Mr. Scott ! {going to hijn) Scott. Constance ! {kissing her at 07ie side of pack- age) Doug, {looking out at other side of package) I haven't a kiss for you. Cons. Another present for Rosie ! Doug. From her godfather. Cons. Let me help you. YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. ii Scott. Thank you. {putting it ott chair L. C. CON- STANCE begins to unwrap it) I brought that in my arms all the way. I was the proudest old bachelor in New York. I felt like a grandfather. Doug. Constance and I almost feel that you are Rosie's grandfather. Cons. Indeed we do. ScOTT. So do I. In fact I did have almost as much to do as either of her grandfathers with bringing her into the world. 1 helped along your courtship as much as a blundering old bachelor could. I patched up your lovers' quarrels and made peace between you — I think I may claim to be Rosie's grandfather. Cons. A beautiful new baby house, with furniture and carpets and mirrors, complete. Scott. Yes, the house is complete — there is everything there but the mortgage. Cons. I must kiss you again — for Rosie. {kissing him) Scott. I shall drop in to-morrow if lean. You must let me have Douglas now for business. I'm his lawyer, you know, and we lawyers have to work night and day, {turns to Douglas R. C. Apart) I must speak with you at once. Doug, {apart) Come into the library, {exeicnt up'R.) Cons, {pleasantly) I'll not go to Mrs. Warrington's, ril go to bed early and be up fresh and bright with mother and Edith. Rosie and I will — {stops suddenly, her expression changing suddenly from a smile to a look of pain) What was that letter from Mrs. Dunbar to my husband ? Not a word to me when he read it ! (pause C.) No, no, no ! I will not think of that. Douglas has become cold — but — I have never dreamed of anything like that. No ! — I — oh ! if that, too, should come ! — if that, too, should come ! — I could not bear it. {dropping into a chair R. c, her head falling on her arjns) John enters, l. u. e. Enter Mrs. Dick Chetwyn in full evenitig dress, up L. Mrs. Dick. Constance, my dear ! Cons, {suddenly arousing herself) Ah ! Barbara ! Mrs. Dick, {in a tone of great anxiety) Something wrong with your new costume, my darling ? Doesn't it fit? 12 YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. Cons, {brushing tears from her eyes') It is not that. {crossing to L.) Mrs. Dick. Oh ! I thought it was something serious. Your new dress is lovely, and your hair is perfection. Will your husband be ready soon ? The men are always late. Cons. He is not going this evenmg, Mrs. Dick. (r. c.) O — h ! that's what you're crying about. It's a long time since I cried because my husband wouldn't go with me anywhere. Dick says I've changed. He says I'm more likely to cry when he does go with me now. Dick goes one way and 1 go the other, so we're both of us perfectly happy. Buxton Scott called to see Dick one day. I happened to meet him in the hall. " Ah ! " said he, '♦ you're at home ; of course your hus- band isn't. Good-afternoon." Ha, ha, ha ! We two widows must go to the ball by ourselves, I suppose. Cons. Herbert is going. But didn't you know t Mr. Wintrop is engaged for a supper at the club with your husband ? (Constance l., arranging toys at table) Mrs. Dick. Oh ! is he ? (^crosses r.) Ha, ha, ha ! I thought Dick was lying about it. He told me he was going to take supper with Mr. Winthrop at the club. After his telling me that, it was the last thing I dreamed of his doing. Poor Dick ! it's a shame not to believe him when he does tell the truth. But I dare say they are both lying, {sitting R. c.) Cons. Oh, Barbara ! how can you trifle about such serious things ? Mrs. Dick. Well, you see, my dear, I know all about these men, and so'll you by the time you have had two husbands as I have. My first husband was a physician ; my second is a member of the bar. A doctor and alawyer can teach you about all one woman needs to know on the subject of husbands. Dick makes up whatever Bob omitted in my education, and when I forget anything Bob taught me Dick reminds me of it. Between Bob and Dick together, I'm a graduate M. A. Mistress of Arts. Cons. Ah — I remember — your first husband's name was Robert, Mrs. Dick. M-m. Everybody called me Mrs. Bob then, just as they call me Mrs. Dick now. I never could rise to the dignity of my husband's full name. I dare say next time I shall be Mrs. Jack or Mrs. Tom. Yes, my dear, after you've married the second time, you'll YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. 13 know a great deal too much about these men to worry yourself about 'em. If your dress fits, and you haven't got a headache, no httle matrimonial obscurities will ever affect your spirits. Keep your eyes open, my dear, and smile. I mean, keep one eye open and the other shut. When your husband gets round on the blind side of you, open that eye quietly, when he isn't looking. It's great fun ! Ha, ha, ha ! Bob told me one evening — it was the night of an Arion ball — no, that wasn't Bob — it was Dick. Dick said to me that evening — yes, it was Bob, too. It was four years ago — no — I was a widow then — one, two — {coinitUig on her fingers) three, four — that was six years ago. " Barbara, my dear," said Dick — 1 mean, said Bob — " I have an important engagement with a client — no — with a patient — to-night." "What sort of a law-suit is it ?" said I — I would say — "What disease is she suffering from ? " said I. Then he quoted from some musty old law-books — no, he ran over a lot of scientific medical terms, *• Bob," said I, shaking my finger, " it won't do, you can't deceive me, Dick — Bob — well, it was one of 'em. A woman that's been the wife of a doctor and a lawyer both gets awfully mixed up about profes- sional engagements outside of business hours. (Con- stance has been on ottoman before doll-house arranging fiirtiiture, etc.) Cons, {rises) Barbara — I — I don't think I'll go to the ball to-night. Mrs. Dick. Not go ? Cons. You know, to-morrow is Rosie's birthday. I wish to be as fresh and as bright as possible to enjoy the whole day with her. Herbert can go to Mrs. Warring- ton's with you. Mrs. Dick. Well, I've never had any children, but Cons. If you had you would feel as I do. Ah, Bar- bara, Providence has denied to you the greatest blessing it ever brings to a woman. Heaven has been very kind to me. {turfiing to house aftd arranging it) 1 shall not go. Mrs. Dick. You'll break Madam de Battiste's heart if you don't appear in that costume to-night. Mrs. Dunbar Cons, {looking tip suddenly) Mrs. Dunbar ! {rising Mrs. Dick stops and looks at her inquiringly. CON- STANCE proceeds quietly) What of her ? 14 YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. Mrs. Dick. She has a new costume just arrived, direct from Paris. She is supposed to be the finest dressed woman in America. But Madam de Battiste told me that when you appeared in the same drawing-room with her to-night, Mrs. Dunbar and the Parisian dressmal?) Miftutes. ACT II. Lights down to work up at cue. Lighted lamps turned dowfi very low on table L. H. Log fire and Red Medium down a little. Calcium back of witidow L. u. E. Foots to work on latnp being turned up. Music at rise. Large footstool behind armchair L. c. Curtains on windows closed. Scene. — The same. Night. A single lamp or drop- light upon table. At rise of curtain enter Douglas up L., in some haste^ and with expression of anxiety. 20 YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. He is still in evening dress and has his overcoat on and hat in hand, as if having entered too hastily to throw them aside. He is followed by John, who waits for coat attd hat. Doug, {as he crosses C.) Eleven o'clock, you say ? John. Yes, sir. Miss Rosie was taken ill about the time you left the house, sir. Doug. Did Dr. Melbanke come promptly 1 John. Yes, sir. And he is still here. Doug. Still here ! Two o'clock. Dr. Melbanke still here. It must be serious, {goes quickly down R. Dr. Melbanke steps in r. i e. raising his hand to check him) The child, Doctor ! Rosie ! Doctor. She is sleeping. Doug. Is there danger ? Doctor. I hope for the best. Doug. Ah ! {with a sigh of relief, walki7ig L.) What is it, Doctor 1 (John goes out with coat and hat r. u. e. Doctor. Just such an attack as she had two years ago. Doug. She recovered from that in a few days. Doctor, I trust she will do the same in this case. Doug. Has she suffered much ? Doctor. She is now entirely free from pain. Doug. Can I go to the room, Doctor ? Doctor. She is in a quiet sleep. We must take every advantage of it. Doug. I might relieve her mother. Doctor. The child's grandmother is with her. Doug. Ah — Constance is resting. Doctor, Mrs. Winthrop herself has not returned yet. Doug. Not — returned ? Doctor. She is at Mrs. — Warrington's — I believe. Doug, {with a slight start) At Mrs. Warrington's ? Doctor, Up to half an hour ago I thought the case a very harmless one, and I advised them not to send for Mrs. Winthrop, But it took a more serious turn, and we sent for her. She has not arrived yet, Doug, {aside) Constance did go ! Doctor. 1 thought it was she that entered when I heard you at the door. I came downstairs to ask her not to go to the child at present. Mrs. Winthrop will be YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. 21 somewhat excited, of course — returning from a — a social festivity — under such — such unusual circumstances. Doug. Yes. {with some bitterness in his tone) From a fashionable ball-room to the bedside of a sick child is an abrupt change — for a mother. Doctor. Will you kindly say to Mrs. Winthrop, for me, when she arrives, that the little one is sleeping and the utmost quiet is necessary. Her grandmother is tak- ing every care of her. If Mrs. Winthrop will, for the present, kindly refrain from coming to the room Doug. I will tell her. Doctor. It will be better for the child, {exit r. i e.) Doug. Better for the child that its mother should not enter its sick-room ! {sitting by fire R.) Enter Mrs. Ruth, r. i e. Mrs. Ruth. (r. c.) Douglas ! Doug. Mother ! Rosie is still sleeping ? Mrs. Ruth. Yes, gently, and without pain. The doctor is with her now. I am glad the servant found you, Douglas. We sent to the club for you, at first, Doug. I was not there. How — how did you know where I was, mother ? Mrs. Ruth. I happened to overhear you say to Mr. Scott that you would go to — to a Mrs. — a Mrs. Dunbar's. . Doug. Ah ! yes, I see. Mrs. Ruth. When the servant returned and said you were not at the club, I thought you might be at that lady's house, so Dr. Mellbanke sent there for you. Doug. Mother — I — I have a — a favor to ask of you. Say nothing to Constance about my having been at Mrs. Dunbar's to-night. Mrs. Ruth. Say— nothing— to— Constance ! My son ! Doug. Do not misunderstand me, mother. Mrs. Ruth. No, Douglas, of course not ! I heard Mr. Scott tell you that it was positively necessary for you to go to Mrs. Dunbar's — some business matter ? Doug. Yes, mother, it was, and the cause of my going would bring deep pain to Constance, something, indeed, harder to bear than mere pain, {sits C.) Mrs. Ruth. Nothing can be so importarA, Douglas, as perfect confidence between husband and. wife, Doug. Mother, please do not say aviything on this subject to her. 22 YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. Mrs. Ruth. Well, I — I promise you. I would not have mentioned it anyway. Constance should have re- turned by this time. DOUH. It is too early, yet, to leave the most brilliant reception of the season. Mrs. Ruth. Early ? With such a message ? What do you mean, Douglas ? Eriter John, up L. John. Thomas is returned, madam. Mrs. Ruth. And Mrs. Winthrop ? John. Mrs. Winthrop had left the house before Thomas got there, madam. Mrs. Ruth. Ah ! she has taken Mrs. Chetwyn home. {exit John) Doug. They are discussing the merits of the last new costumes, {rising and crossing L.) Mrs. Ruth. Douglas, I — I — never heard you speak of your wife in a bitter tone. Doug. My — wife — went to a " fashionable " woman's house to-night, against the earnestly expressed desire of her husband. She is now away from her sick child. The physician has just requested me to ask her not to go to its bedside when she returns. I am a husband and a father ! Do you wonder at my bitter tone ? Mrs. Ruth, {after amoinenfs patise) Douglas — my son ! Doug. Mother ! {both c.) Mrs. Ruth. May I speak frankly to you ? Doug. Need you ask me that ? Mrs. Ruth. Even a mother fears to touch upon some subjects. I have long wished to say what is in my heart, but I — I have hesitated. Doug. It must be good for me to know all there is in such a heart as yours, {taking her hand a7id passing her to chair L.) Through childhood and manhood I have never found anything but love there. Mrs. Ruth. My darling boy ! {sitting) DOL'G. {sitting 071 ottoman) I am a boy again, mother. Speak to me — just as you used to. {he has placed her in the chair and is sitting on a stool beside her) '\, Mrs. RutH"; I — I feel to-night, Douglas, that a crisis may be at hand^ in the life of the two beings most dear YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. 23 to me in all the world. You are my only child. No ! my only soji — for she, too, is my child — my daughter. I have known Constance since she was a little girl. I know how pure — how full of tenderness and love — her nature is. You were very happy — at first. Doug. Very — at first. Mrs. Ruth. There was contentment and love in your home. A change has been gradually stealing over you both. Doug. Yes, mother — a change. Mrs. Ruth. Constance has become more and more what is called a " fashionable " woman. Doug. Yes. Mrs. Ruth. Her child and her husband do not, now, receive all her attention, as they once did. Doug. No. Mrs. Ruth. Her home has become less and less the centre of her thoughts. Doug. My dear mother ! Speak to Constance ! A single word from you Mrs. Ruth. No — my son — it is to you that I will speak ! Doug. To — me ? Mrs. Ruth. It is your fault, Douglas, not hers. If such a woman as Constance is not the wife and mother she should be, it is her husband's fault. Doug. My — fault! (rising ajtd backing C) Mrs. Ruth, {after a slight pause^ asswning a lighter tone) You did not dine at home this evening, Douglas. You dropped in at Delmonico's with a friend, you told me. You were absent from home 2A\ yesterday evening. You had a gentleman's dinner party here on Tuesday evening. In fact, you never return to your home in the daytime. Doug. Business men never do that, {crossing R. C. and sitting) We lunch down-town, of course. Mrs. Ruth, Of course, {rises and crosses to him) I have now been here two months, Douglas. Your wife never sees you in the daytime, except on Sunday ; and only three times since I came have you spent an evening quietly at home with her. Doug. The constant pressure upon the time of a bus- iness man Mrs. Ruth. Yqwx father was a business man, Doug- 24 YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. las ! a successful one too. He left you a large fortune, but he made me a very happy wife. He never torgot that his wife and child were more to him than all the triumphs of his business life. Remember your own childhood. Remember the many happy hours your father spent with you and me in our home. The trials of his daily work never made those hours less bright. Even your father's success in business did not conflict with our domestic happiness, Doug. Those times were different, mother. Mrs. Ruth. No, my son ! Domestic love in those days withered and died in the same hot fever as now. You have caught the disease and your {2X\\^x escaped \\ — that is all. Believe me, there are as many men to-day as then, rich and successful men, who do not neglect their families for the sake of making ♦' money " — who do not sacrifice their wives and their children and all their own holiest affections Doug. Sacrifice ! Mrs. Ruth. Yes, Douglas, sacrifice ! Doug. Surely you do not think that I- Mrs. Ruth. That is what you are doing, my son. Your wife has become almost a stranger to you. Her heart is slowly starving for the want of your love. She is turning in her loneliness to the excitement of fashion- able life. What effect imist this daily separation have upon a woman like Constance "i {goes up C. Pause) You have given her a magnificent house to live in, but you've given her no home. Doug. Mother ! {rises) Mrs. Ruth. For months you and she have been growing colder to each other every day. Doug. Colder and colder — yes. {crossiiig to C. slowly) Mrs. Ruth. Now {she hesitates) Doug. Now — well ? Mrs. Ruth. Your child {j>oints to picture R.) alone holds you together. Doug. Our child ! {looks out r. i e.) If she were to be taken away Mrs. Ruth. {coming down to him r. c.) Then, Douglas, the holy grief of a father and mother would bring you and Constance together. If that great sorrow were ever to come upon you, it would bring its compen- YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. 25 sation. Two hearts never know all there is of love until they have suffered together. Doug, {after a pause, and holdijig her hands in both his own) This same kind hand that led me when I v^as a boy shall lead me now, mother. I have been cruel to Constance. She shall not' be without a home hereafter. I will be her companion — her husband, {walking R. ivith her, his arm about her waist) As soon as she returns I will confess the wrong I have done her. Our love shall have a new and a stronger life than ever — from this night. Mrs. Ruth, When you speak like that, I seem to hear your lather's own voice, [turning in doorway) Doug. I will try to honor his memory by making Constance as happy a wife as he made you. We shall both \A^ss you for it, mother. Mrs. Ruth. My boy ! {reaching up her face. He kisses her. Exit Mrs. Ruth, r. 2 E.) Doug, {looking after her. Pause) " Her children rise up and call her blessed." {exit after her, R. 2 E. A ni07nenfs pause, the stage empty. Music) Enter Constance, up l. Cons. Back again ! {with a weary air, throwing aside her cloak. Pause) How quiet the house is ! It's no use going to bed ; I cannot sleep. I wish these " so- cial gaieties " as they call them, could go on forever. No matter how much 1 go out, or how bright the company is, it always ends in this ; I am alone again, and I— I can't stop thinking. Oh ! — I wish I could ! I wish I could ! Mr. Chetwyn was at the reception this evening, Douglas sent him word he could not meet him at the club. He sent the message after receiving that note from Mrs. Dunbar — she was not there to-night ! Oh ! — why must I keep tliinking — thinking ? {starting to her feet and moving c. Pauses) Perhaps I am wronging him. Yes. No — no — I will not believe it — I have not lost his love ! There is something I do not understand ? I will speak to Douglas about it in the morning, [synilijig) It will all come right. I must get to sleep as soon as I can, to be up bright and early with Rosie. I will peep in at my little darling before I go to sleep, {going toward door, R. 2 E.) 26 YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. Enter Edith, r. 2 e. ; also Herbert, up L. Cons. Edith ! Edith. Oh, Constance ! you have come back. Cons. Why 2^x^ yoii up at this hour ? Edith, 1 couldn't sleep. T.hey told me to go to my room. But I was so unhappy about Rosie Cons. Rosie ! Edith. Oh ! — you do not know ? Cons. Know what, Edith — I do not know what ? Edith. The servant was sent to tell you — he Cons. Ah ! {a half-suppressed scream) Rosie ! — Rosie ! She is not well ! {she hurries past Edith and out R. I E. U7ider great excitemejit) Her. {Joining Edith r. c.) The servant must have missed us, Edith. What is it ? Edith. Rosie is ill. The doctor is here. They sent me away. (Herbert and Edith ttirn and go up stage) Re-enter CONSTANCE, R. 2 E. Mrs. Ruth is following, speakitig as she enters. Constance is under great emotion. Mrs. Ruth. You must calm yourself, my dear child. You must calm yourself! Dr. Mellbanke is right. Cons. Yes — I know — I know, [moving down L. C.) Mrs. Ruth, (c.) You shall go to her presently. But she is sleeping very quietly. The slightest noise might Cons. The doctor is right — he is right. I am excited. I have just returned from where people are dancing and laughing. I would endanger the life of my child ! {sink- ing into chair R. of table L. C.) My own child ! Douglas — my husband ! ask him to come to me, mother, ask him to come to me ! Mrs. Ruth. I will — I will. Cons. Tell Douglas I want him near me — I want his arm about me, mother. Mrs. Ruth. Whatever happens, trust to his love. It will always support and comfort you — my daughter ! {kissing her J she then turns to Herbert c. Speaking apart) Herbert! {Yi^EYLB^Yo: tneets her down tl.C.) Dr. Mellbanke wishes you to go for Dr. Holden — at once. Her. {apart) A consultation ! Mrs. Ruth. S-h-h. {her finger to her lips) Dr. YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. 27 Mellbanke wishes to advise with him. (Herbert turns up stage and exit L, MRS. Ruth crosses R.) I will speak to Douglas, Constance, {exit R. u. E.) Cons, {taking off her jewels, etc., nervously, and dropping them on the table before her) Oh, how I hate them ! How "I hate them ! Why did I go to-night ? My husband ! — I never longed for your love as I do now. (Edith makes her way across to Constance) Edith. Constance, {laying her hand on her shoulder) Cons. Edith — sister ! Edith. I am glad you have come back. Rosie was talking to me about you before she fell asleep. Cons. You have been where / should have been to- night, {taking Edith's hand and kissing it. Edith starts slightly and puts her other hand to CONSTANCE'S cheek) What did Rosie say, Edith ? Edith. You are crying, Constance, {sinkifig to her knees beside her, with her arms about her) Don't cry. The last word little Rosie said, before she fell asleep, was •' Mamma." She loves you very much. She often, often tells me so. Don't cry, Constance. Cons. Did her papa come home before she went to sleep ? Edith. No. Mother sent to the club for him, at first, but he was not there. It took a long time to send to the other place, and Rosie was asleep when he came. Cons. The — the other place ; — where ? Edith. To — to some lady's house. Cons. Some — some lady's — house ? Edith. I forget the name — but you would know — Mrs. — Mrs. — Dun — Dun Cons. Dunbar ! Edith. That's the name. Cons. Mother — sent — to see if — if Douglas was at — at Mrs. Dunbar's .-' Edith. Yes. Fortunately he w<:zi' there. I'm so glad you have both come back. It seems as if you ought to be together to-night. Don't cry, Constance, {reaching up with her arms about Constance's 7ieck, as the latter sits rigidly looking away) Rosie will be so glad to see you when she wakes up. The Doctor says she will soon get well, {her voice breaking as she speaks, and finally dropping her head into Constance's lap, weeping) Don't cry. 28 YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. Cons. You must go to bed, Edith, at onct. (rising with arm about Edith and leading her up R., almost choking as she speaks, but controlling herself by an effort) It is after two o'clock. Edith. Oh, I cannot sleep, Constance — indeed I can- not sleep. Do, do not send me away. Cons. You — you must go to your room, Edith. Edith. If you wish it, Constance. Cons. Yes ; good-night. Edith. Good-night, {kissing each other. ExHYaatyl up R.) Cons. I — I cannot breathe — I — it is growing dark ! — Douglas — my husband ! — my heart is breaking ! {bury- ing her face in her hands, sinks on sofa R.) Enter Douglas, r. i e., rapidly. Doug. Constance — [sees her emotion and crosses to her rapidly) My dear Constance ! You are unstrung by this sudden news. You are nervous. Command your- self, my darling, (i R. C.) Cons. Yes — {drawing up rigidly) — I — I will com- mand myself. Doug. Let us hope for the best. Dr. Mellbanke says that Rosie may awake from her sleep refreshed and on the road to recovery, [goes over to door R. i E.) Cons, {aside) Summoned from that woman's house to the bedside of his sick child ! Doug, {back of her. CO'i^^TA.^CY. gazing into fre rigidly all through this speech) This night will be the beginning of a new and a happy life for you and me, Constance — the beginning of a deeper and stronger love than we have ever known before. Rosie's future will be all the brighter for it. I have not been such a husband to you, of late years, as I ought. My feverish haste to make a larger fortune has led to what has seemed to you neglect ; — and it was none the less neglect because I was uncon- scious of it. I have allowed business consideration to outweigh all that is best in a man's life. Cons, {aside) Business consideration ! Doug. Our love has been only flickering. It has not died out. We will be companions hereafter. Cons, {aside) Companions! {crossing to h.) Doug, {rising) You do not answer me, Constance. (« pause. She maititains her silence rigidly, looking YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. 29 away from kirn) You are still silent ? (Douglas ,r/a«r/j looking at her a tnoment and then crosses R. c. slowly. ffe stops and looks down in thought) Have I discovered my fault too late ! Enter Doctor, r. i e. Cons. At that w^oman's house 1 Dr. Mellbanke enters, stops, looks first at Constance, then at Douglas. The latter turns to speak, does not see Doctor. Doug. Constance — my — wife — I- -(Dr. Mellbanke ad- vances, taps him on shoulder, and beckons to hijn quietly ; motions silence on his lips. DOUGLAS starts, exit rapidly, takes lyocYOv. off with hijn,'R. i E. Constance, looking after them wavers a moment on her feet^ then gives a sharp scream, as if suddcfily C07nprehending the truth. She staggers across right front, trying to reach door at R. I E. Douglas, reappearing, supports her to chair) Cons. Rosie — not — not Doug. Be — be strong-, my darling — be strong ! Cons. Rosie is — she is Doug. It — is — over, {she sinks her head on table. He stands over her looking doiun tenderly) She passed away in her sleep, Constance, my wife ! {bends down as if to embrace her. She looks up into his face with a cold, half-dazed expression, then turns from him and sitiks with her head upon her arms over L. ejtd of sofa I R. Douglas withdraws from her slowly, pauses, then speaks C.) The last — link — broken ! CURTAIN, SLOW. 17 minutes. 30 tt)UNG MRS. WINTHROP. ACT III. • Scene. — Same as Act ist a7id 2d. Constance sitting L. c. and Edith hieeling on low stool by her side. Constance is dressed in black ; Edith i7i white trimmed with black. Music. Edith. I have been thinking about Douglas and you, Constance, almost all the time, to-day and yesterday. I dreamed about you last night. It seems very, very sad for Douglas to go away to Europe to-day — all by himself. Cons. Yes, Edith ; it is sad. Edith. He will be very lonely ; and you will be lonely too. Why don't you go with him ? Cons. Go with him ? Why — I — never mind, my pet. Do not trouble your dear little head about Douglas and me. We — we do not find it convenient — to go together. Edith. How long will Douglas be gone ? Cons. I — I cannot tell. Edith. When I asked him he said he didn't know. Cons. Don't think of it, darling. Edith. I can't help it ; I love you both so dearly, and I don't wish you to be unhappy. Mother told me that two people who loved each other enough to be married wished always to be together ; and I know how I should feel if some one that I loved like that should go away. Cons. Some one you loved ? Edith. Love holds two people together so closely, that one is wretched without the other. Cons. Why, my little innocent ! How did you come to know anything of that. Edith. I — I don't know ; I — I've been thinking about it for a long time. Sometimes I ask mother. She always tells me to listen to my own heart. I — I have been lis- tening to it. I — I do love some one, Constance ! {drop- ping her head ifito Constance's lap) Cons. My child ! Edith. I'm not a child any longer, sister. Cons. I see you are not, my dear. Enter Herbert, up r., with bunch of violets. Her. Edith ! (Edith starts up, rising and looking YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. 3i down with consciousness in her manner) I've come up to ffo to the steamer with Uncle Douglas. Here s a bunch of violets. They're the first of the season. I ve been watching for them. Edith. Oh ! thank you. Her It's half an hour yet before Douglas will go ; and you are so fond of flowers— wouldn't you like to go into the conservatory ? . , ^. r j. Aft,^ Edith Yes, Herbert, {he is leading her up. After a few steps she returns and leans over Constance who still sits down L. C.) Sister, don't let Douglas go alone ! Cons (kissing her) Go with Herbert, my darling. (Edith turns to Herbert, who leads her up attd out R.) Cons No longer a child ! I hope she will be happy. (Enter 'john with card, up L, U. e. Reading card) «' Mrs. Robert W. Mackenzie." {aside) One of mother s friends, I suppose— from Boston, perhaps, {aloud) 1 ake the card to Mrs. Winthrop, John, {exit John l. i e. Enter Mrs. Dick, up l. u. e.) Barbara ! , , , . Mrs. Dick. Constance, my love ! Your husband is going to Europe, to-day, I hear. Cons Yes. {crossing R. and sitting) Mrs. Dick, (c.) Business, I suppose. A married man never seems to care for the distance he has to travel —on business— when he's alone. Dick told me one day —there was a big law-case in the West— no, that was Bob— it was a medical convention. "I've got to go to Chicago, my dear, on professional business, said he '. Oh, how/«r / " said I. - Merely a pleasant jaunt, said he. •• /'//go with you. my love." said I. " My darling. ^ said he, "it's ni^ie hundred miles !" Ha, ha, ha, ha . First class in matrimonial geography : What is the exact distance between the city of New York and the city of Chicago ? Answer : It depends on circumstances. Cor- rect |o to the head. {E^iter Mrs. Ruth. l. 2 e.. the card in her hand) Ah ! my dear Mrs. Winthrop. I came to tell Constance some news— you shall hear it. too. Mrs Ruth. Thank you ; I shall be very glad. But-- {looking across to Constance)— you sent me a card, Constance— a Mrs. Mackenzie. Cons. She is in the reception-room. Isn t she calling 01^ you ? ,,1-1 Mrs. Dick. Why, Vm Mrs. Mackenzie ! Cons. You ! % 32 YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. Mrs. Dick. That's my card. Mrs. Ruth. {cojtfused) But — your name — is — Chetwyn. Mrs. Dick. It was clay before yesterday. Dick and I have got a divorce. Cons. A divorce ! Mrs. Ruth. Divorce ! Mrs. Dick. M-m. That's my news. Sit down. I'll tell you all about it. [they sit) We've been living in Connecticut for the last year, you know — except a few months in New York, during the winter. Cons. Yes — I know. Mrs. Ruth, (with a bewildered air) What has living in Connecticut to do with a — a divorce ? Mrs. Dick. It has everything to do with it. They grant you a divorce there for incompatibility of temper. Mrs. Ruth. But I — I didn't know that you and your husband were incompatible. Mrs. Dick. Neither did we — till we went to live in Connecticut. We never knew we had any tempers, to speak of, before. When we took a house in Stamford, we didn't dream of the effect it would have on a man and wife. Of course, Dick and I were both witnesses in the case. Mrs. Ruth. It must have been very sad. Mrs. Dick. Yes, it was : — I had on a brocade — lavender and old gold — lace to match the lavender — and sleeves puffed above the elbows. (Mrs. Ruth looks at her in bewilderment) The evidence was so comical. Mrs. Ruth. Comical ! Mrs. Dick. You ought to have been there. Ha, ha, ha, ha ! It was all about how Dick and I have been say- ing mean things to each other for a year — so as to obey the laws of the State. We called each other all sorts o' names. When we were first married Dick said I was a turtle-dove ; — after we got to Connecticut he said I was a snapping turtle-dove. Ha, ha, ha, ha ! I began by call- ing him a donkey — and then I called him a whole lot of other animals. He told the judge, according to me he was a regular Noah's Ark. I told the judge Dick called vie animals too. The judge said we seemed to be a happy family ; — and so he granted the divorce. I've gone back to my first husband's name. Cons. Ah — I remember — Mackenzie. YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. 33 Mrs. Dick. I'm Mrs. Bob again now. I gave Dick all the old cards I had left over — and the plate. I didn't want to keep Dick's name. If he should get married again, it'd be awkward having two of us ; we'd get mixed up. Of course it doesn't make any difference to Bob. So Douglas sails to-day ? Mrs. Ruth, {rising) Yes !— and if you will kindly excuse me Mrs. Dick. Certainly, {rising) I must run along, myself. Good-morning. Mrs Ruth. Good-morning, {then moving to her and speaking very earnestly) Believe me, my dear Mrs.— Mrs. Mrs. Dick. Mackenzie. Mrs. Ruth. Mackenzie. I am very sorry that you and your husband are separated. Mrs. Dick, {earnestly) Thank you, my dear Mrs. Winthrop — but don't worry yourself about it — we don't. (Mrs. Ruth turns, and goes out l., shaking her head) Good-bye, Constance, my love — I'm going to pop in and tell Mrs. Garnette : — she's just got a divorce, too, you know, {kissing her and going up stage) Cons. Good-bye. {moving up near picture of ^o^\E., stands) Mrs. Dick, {stopping up r. c. near opening, and looking -L.) Here's Mr Buxton Scottt. (Buxton ScoTT appears from L. He a?td Mrs. Dick bow deeply to each other) ScoTT. Mrs. Chetwyn. {comes down c.) Mrs. Dick. Mrs. —Mackenzie ! — if you please. {down c.) Scott. Eh ?— Mac ? Mrs. Dick. Dick and I are separated. Scott. I never happened to meet either of you when you werefi't separated. Mrs. Dick. We've got a divorce. Scott. Ah ! Then you and Dick will see something of each other. I congratulate you both. When were you divorced ? Mrs. Dick. Day before yesterday. Scott. And you've married a Mr. Mackenzie since 1 Mrs. Dick. Mr. Scott ! Scott. Oh ! I beg your pardon ; you've taken your first husband's name .? 34 YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. Mrs. Dick. Yes. My maiden name was too far back. By the bye, my darling old aunt, Miss Vandevere, said the other day that she hoped you would come and see her. Scott. With pleasure. She's a charming old lady. Give her my compliments. Tell her I hope to drop in often. Mrs. Dick. I will. I'm living with her. Scott. Eh ? {in surprise) Mrs. Dick. You are still a bachelor ? Scott. I am. Mrs. Dick. I pity you, Mr. Scott. You should marry, Scott. And pity myself? I prefer to have you pity me. Mrs. Dick, {approachitig him) You really ought to make some woman happy. Scott, {aside) She's after number three, {crossing r., turning to her) My dear Mrs. Dick. Mrs. Dick. Bob. Scott. Mrs. Bob. {looking dow 71 at her through his eye-glasses) I'll drop in on Dick and ask his opinion. He knows you so well. Mrs. Dick. Me ! Bless you ! I meant Aunt Jane. Scott. Oh ! {tur7ii7ig R.) Mrs. Dick. I'm sure she'd make you happy. She's a charming old lady. Ha, ha, ha, ha ! — {running up L. — stops) Come and see Aunt Jane — often, {exit up L.) Scott. An old maid and a young grass-widow ! two to one ! {crossi7tg'L.) I shall not call, {he tur7ts, chatig- i7ig his tone and 7>ta7t7ter) Constance, {she turns to him, givi7ig both her hands. He holds theni i7i his own^ looki7ig at her with ki7idly ijiterest, a7id speaking in an earftest, fatherly to7ie) Douglas asked me to come and see him this morning before he sailed. Cons. He is in his room, I will send for him. {crosses to L. c.) Scott. Thank you. {looki7ig steadily into her face) Constance, I have known you and Douglas since you were children. You have often called me your " second father." Cons. You are the dearest friend we have in the world. Scott. There is something on your heart. Cons. On — my — heart ? Scott. I'm only a hard old bachelor, and a stony- YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. 35 hearted old lawyer, but you may speak to nie — as — as — if I were really your father. Cons. There are some things which one cannot — will not — talk about — to any one. Scott. When you were a little girl, you used to bring all your troubles to me. Cons. I am a woman now. Scott. Constance, there is something wrong between you and your husband. Cons. Something — wrong — yes. Scott. Will you confide in me ? Cons. I — I — [hesitates, turns away) — Oh! I cannot ! — I cannot confide in any one. Scott. I will not ask you to ; but I will give you the advice which your own father would if he were living. Whatever is on your heart, go to your husband. Cons. To him f No, I am a humiliated wife. My natural pride compels me to be silent. Scott. What can have happened to make you feel like this ? Cons. We will not talk about that. For two years and over we have been growing more distant and more indifferent. We — we do not love each other now. Scott. M-m-m. You do not love each other ? Cons. No ; our love is a matter of the past. Scott. How long will Douglas be gone ? Cons. I — I do not know. Scott. M-m-m. Of course, now that your love is a matter of the past [glancing at her shrewdly) it must be a great relief to you to — to have Douglas go away. Cons. Yes, — it is — [choking) a — a — a great relief. [bursting into tears. ScoTT approaches her and drops 07ie arfn about her waist) Scott. My child ! Cons. Father ! [turning to him and hiding her face on his breast) Scott, [tenderly, yet half humoroiisly, pattiiig her head) I'm sorry you don't love each other any more. It is nearly time for Douglas to start, my dear ; go and ask him to come to me. Cons. Yes — I — I'll — [going l.) I'll tell him you are here, [exit L. 2 E., still crying) Scott, [looking after her, with a smile) It's a pity they don't love each other any more. I shall make it my 36 YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. ersonal and professional duty to bring these two wrong- eaded young people together — in spite of themselves. Providence, so to speak, has appointed me their attorney. I — take — the case. The devil is the opposing counsel. He's a good lawyer, and highly respected by his fellow- members of the profession. He and I have frequently been on the same side of the case ; I know his tricks. {sitting R.) I dare say a little lying will be necessary. If it is, I'll beat him at his own game. Even a lawyer must lie, now and then. Enter Douglas, r. 2 e. He is in travelling suit, Doug. My dear Scott ! {taking Scott's hand) Scott. Douglas ! Doug. I must apologize for asking you to come here ; but I found it impossible, yesterday at the office, to say what I wanted, {he strikes bell on table L. C.) I — I could not say it until the very last moment, {enter John, l. u. E.) Is the carriage at the door ? John. Yes, sir. Doug. Tell Henry my trunk and valise are ready, and say to my mother and Miss Edith that I v^ill be down in a few moments. John. Yes, sir. {exit up l. u. e.) Doug, {turning to Scott) I arranged yesterday for you to take the entire management of my property during my absence. Scott. Yes. Doug. I — I also hinted that I should ask you to make certain settlements of my estate, {a pause) My de- parture for Europe, to-day, is the beginning of a final and absolute — separation — between my — wife — and me. Scott. A — final — separation ! The cause of this, Douglas ? Doug. What makes a solid rock fall to pieces without any apparent caus^ ? The silent and invisible power of a winter's frost. A frost like that has come upon Con- stance and me. {a slight patise) It was my own fault. 1 gave myself up to the struggle for wealth. My wife lived alone and neglected, as many another rich man's wife lives — surrounded by everything a husband's money can furnish to make her happy. One night — not many weeks ago — my mother told me how cruelly I had ne- glected Constance — how I had robbed her of a home. 1 YOUNG MRS. WliNTHROP. 2,7 confessed my wrong to my wife at once. I spoke to her lovingly. She was silent. At that very moment the Angel of Death passed upwards with the soul of our little one in his arms. My child— and my wife's love— were both — dead ; it seemed as if we buried them in the same grave. Since that night, Constance has been — respectful and kind to me, but cold and distant — never the loving wife. We have both lived within ourselves— strangers to each other in our own home— husband and wife only to the world. We are nothing to each other now but— ice. Scott. M-m. {glancing at him, then rather care- lessly) I hope you'll have a pleasant voyage, Douglas and a happy time on the other side. Doug. Happy.? Can you say " happy " ? You.? who knew us both when we were happy, indeed ! How can you mock me like that ? You are cruel, Scott— you are cruel ! (ScOTT approaches him c, and extends his hand) ScOTT. T>oug\^s— {taking one of his hands in his own) I see you are quite right. You are both of you nothmg— but— ice. {looking into Douglas's /^^^ with a keen glance, then turns, still holding his hand j Douglas returns his glance, then turns away l. Scott continues aside, turning r.) Mount Hecla is nothing but ice, on the outside, but it's a tolerably lively volcano, for all that • there's plenty of heat inside. Doug. I wish you to— to draw up the papers for an equal division of my property, between my wife and me —and such other papers as our— legal— separation— may mvolve. Scott. No, Douglas !— I cannot. I love you both too much, {going up r.) Doug. I should not have asked you. We must call upon a stranger, after all. Scott. No !— not to a stranger. If— if it must be done, you may leave it in my hands. How long will you be away ? Doug. I cannot tell, years,— perhaps. I feel now as if I could never return to America, {crosses to R.) Scott. You must. Doug. Must ? Scott, {aside) Now for my first lie in the case. {comes down l. Aloud) I cannot possibly make a division of your property unless you are in this country. 38 YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. DOUC. You have my power of attorney. Scott. In such a case as this a power of attorney would be utterly useless, {aside) He doesn't know any- thing about law. If another lawyer overheard my legal advice, he'd think I didn't, {aloud) Can't you come back — in three months ? Doug. Three months ? Impossible ! Scott. I shall be obliged to leave New York in four months, for the Sandwich Islands — an important case for the United States Government. I may be gone two years, {aside) The opposite counsel himself can't beat that. Doug. I cannot confide this matter to any one but you. Scott. Well, then — you must return — in three months. Doug, {after a pause) Well, I will. Scott, {aside) I've gained the first point in the case. The sooner I can bring them together, the harder it'll be for the devil to keep them apart, {aloud) Constance, of course, understands my relations to Doug. We have never spoken on the subject of our final separation. Scott. Ah ! Doug. Of course, we both understand the situation. But we bade each other good-bye, a moment ago, with- out a word. Scott. You have said good-bye, already ? Doug. Yes. {going up) I am simply flying from a life which I can endure no longer, {to fireplace) We can write to each other on the subject. We cannot trust our tongues. You, of course, can communicate with Constance, as my representative. Scott. My dear Douglas — you do not understand the law. Doug. The law ? No. Scott. {aside) I don't intend he shall. {aloud) It is a legal impossibility for me to act in any capacity whatever between you and your wife, unless you meet her again, personally — at once — and come to an exact mutual understanding as to your respective intentions, De Vinculo Matrimonii — Chapter thirty-seven — section two hundred and thirty-nine — Revised Statutes — 1878. {aside) Lie number three, {strikes bell oti table) If I leave them alone together, it's twenty to one he won't go YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. 39 to Europe at all, {enter ]OYi^, L. u. E.) Please ask Mrs. Winthrop if she will kindly come here, {exit John L. I E.) Good-bye Douglas, {extending hand) Doug. You will remain t {sa7ne to Scott up l.) Scott. I have an immediate engagement, {taking out watch) It is now after eleven o'clock. I have a case before the Superior Court at eleven-thirty, {aside) If I keep on lying at this remarkable rate, and with such per- fect ease, I'll begin to suspect I'm the devil himself. Good-bye, Doug, {turning up L. Douglas turns up C.) If the good angels ever do help a lawyer — when he happens to be on their side — I'll win my case, {music until curtain. Exit up L. Douglas has taken a min- iature from the table C. He raises it to his lips and is looking at it as Constance enters, l. i e.) Cons, {standing in front of chair, L. c.) Douglas ! Doug. Constance ! {leaves miniature on the table) I have just had an interview with Mr. Scott. I desired to leave — a — a very important matter — affecting us both — in his hands. But he has just assured me that he cannot possibly act as our legal adviser in any way whatever unless we come to a — a full mutual understanding as to — as to — the — the relation which we — which we intend to — to bear to each other — hereafter. Cons. A — a mutual understanding — yes. (Douglas R. Constance l. c.) Doug. We may be perfectly frank with each other now. We will speak at last what we have both under- stood for many weeks in our hearts. My departure is only a cloak, of course, to hide the" truth for a little time from our friends, and from the world. We — we are about to — separate — forever. Cons. Separate — forever — {with emotion, almost stag- gering) yes. Doug. I find it necessary to return in three months. We can then make such — final — and permanent— arrange- ments — concerning our — our merely legal relations — as we may mutually agree upon. I — I take it for granted that you, no more than I, desire any form of — divorce ? Cons. No— not that,- Doug. We can both trust Mr. Buxton Scott. Cons. Yes. Doug. He can draw up the papers for a mutual agree- ment of — separation — in the usual legal form. We 7mist 40 YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. meet — once more — to sign it — and — and — that will be the — end. Cons. The — end — yes ! Doug. While I am away you will remain in this house ; and I shall have it transferred to you in the final division of the property. It has many sad memories for both of us ; but we have passed some very happy hours in it, too. {pause) Good-bye, Constance, {jnoving to her and ex- tending his hand. Warn curtain, muffled warning') Cons, {turning toward him, and placing her hand in his, looking down) Good-bye, Douglas, {as they shake hands Constanck passes to R., l3oUGLAS up to table C. He holds her ha?id a 7noment j theji turns up stage to the table C, taking the child's picture) Doug. Constance, you have other pictures of Rosie. I, too, have another with me. But this one has a value in my eyes that no one else, not even you, could under- stand. May I take it with me ? Cons. Yes. {spoken more by motion of lips) Doug, {aside) Mother and child in one. {puts pic- ture in his inside coat pocket, stands a mo7nent looking at her, turns quickly up stage and off L. U. E. CON- STANCE, without turning, and after a momenfs pause, sinks on knees before easel, sobbittg quietly. Music) CURTAIN— HALP^ SLOW. Twenty-three Minutes. Music at rise half plaintive, M. P. ACT IV. Scene. — Same as that of Act I., without the child's toys, and with some changes in the arrangejnent of the furniture. Small table a little left of C, front with inkstand and pe?is. The portrait of RosiE is absent. No fire. It is now spring. Afternoon. Edith and Herbert discovered. She is sitting 7tear C, sewing. He sits with a book in his hand, R. of her, in a thoughtjul attitude, as if he had stopped reading, losing himself in reverie. Edith. Itis a very pretty story. Go on, Herbert. I YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. 41 like to hear you read. You've been silent for a long time. Her. I've been thinking. Edith. What about ? Her. About joi(. Edith. I must go to my room. I haven't given the canary his bath to-day, and I must see how the old cat and the new kittens are getting on. (rising: About to rise) Her. No ; please don't go. {she resumes her seat) Edith, you are so different from what you used to be. You always run away from me, now — except when some one is with us, or when I am reading to you — and when- ever I try to tell you what is in my heart you change the subject. Edith. I must thread my needle again. Her. {after a glance and a pause) I'll thread it for you. Edith. You ! {laughing, as she takes thread) I haven't time to wait. Her. Oh, I can thread it. Every young bachelor learns how to do that. I often have to sew on buttons and things. Edith. Well, you may do it. Her. {taki7ig fieedle and thread) Whew ! Edith. What's the matter ? Her. It's sharp. Edith, {laughitig) Didn't you know that before. I knew you'd get into trouble. Mind you thread the right end. Her. You like the story I am reading ? Edith. Yes. The part I like best is where love is gradually growing in her heart — without her knowing why — or where it came from — or what it is. Her. I can't see anything of that kind in the story. Edith. You can't? Her. She doesn't seem to love him at all, yet. Edith. Oh, yes, she does ! Her. She always avoids him ; and whenever he tries to make love to her she finds an excuse for leaving him — or talks about something else. Edith. Why, that's the very sign she loves him. Her. Is it Edith ? {eagerly) Edith. Of course ! Don't you understand that .? 42 YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. I'm sure she loves him. I feel it as you go along in the book. Her. [significantly — looking at her earnestly) That's just the ^NdL^ you act to me. Edith. Is the needle threaded ? Her. One moment, {suddenly beginning to thrust the thread at the eye of the needle) Edith. How are you getting on ? Her. Splendidly. {Bus.) We're having a regular set-to. {Bus.) This is such a little fellow ! Edith. Ha, ha, ha, ha ! Her. I can always get ahead of a big one. Edith. Ha, ha, ha ! Hadn't /better do it, Herbert ? Her. No. I can do it. {with a vigorous thrust) Edith, {after a pause) Isn't the hero of the story funny, Herbert ? Her. Funny ? — how ? Edith. He was so frank and bold at first. But now that she really loves him, he never seems to know what to do or say. Her. Oh, /understand him well enough. Edith. He seems almost 'fraid ©r her. Her. Of course he does. That's the way with any man, when he really loves a woman, {looking at her eartiestly) I'm almost afraid oi you. Edith. Is the needle ready .'' Her. I'll hit it in the eye in a moment, {beginning to thrust at the needle again. He goes on, keeping his eye intently on the needle, and trying to thread it with a variety Oj ?notions, ranging from quiet efforts to des- perate thrusts) Of course a man can't talk to a woman he loves — {needle) as easily as he can — {needle) to a woman he doesn't love. Edith. In the last chapter you read they were alone together nearly an hour, and he never said a word about love. Her. He was coming to the subject half a dozen times — {needle) and she always turned him off. Edith. But she was thinking about it. Her. How could he tell that ? Edith. He might have guessed it. Her. I don't see how he could guess that she was thinking about love (paying great attention to needle, he succeeds in getting the 'hread in the eye of the needle YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. 43 but on rising to hand it to her he pulls it out again) — when she was talking about her old cat and new kittens — [tteedle) or her canary's bath. Edith. I don't remember that in the book. Her. Eh !— Oh !— No. Edith. There's nothing about a cat or a canary in the story you were reading. Her. You know the story I am thinking about. (rising and leaning over her, speaking earjiestly) Do you remember, Edith, one night last winter, I told you I hoped to have a little home of my own .-* Edith. Yes. {tiropping her head) Her. And I said, I — I hoped to get — married. Edith. Yes. Her. You didn't know what I meant — when I told you — I loved you. Edith. I — I never dreamed of such a thing as love till that night. Her. I tried to teach you what it was. Edith. It seems as if I had lived years since then. Her. {with deep earnestness) Edith — I — love you- — with all my soul ! — but I feel as if /could learn from you now. I hardly dare ask for your love. It could not be stronger than mine — but it would be better and sweeter and purer. Edith, {after a slight pause. Rising) You need not ask for it. It belongs to you. Her. My darling ! {embracing her) I shall be your guide and your protector through life ! Edith. Oh, Herbert — I am so happy ! {her head rest- ing on his breast) Her. Whew ! Edith, {starting up) What is it, Herbert ? Her. That needle. Edith, {sympathetically) O — h ! — where is it ? {taking his hatid, which he puts in hers, and touching different Parts with her finger) Here ? Her. No. Edith. Here ? Her. No. Edith. Here ? Her. Yes — there. Edith. Ah ! {putting his hand to her lips, Her- bert kisses her) 44 YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. Her. We can look after the old cat and the new kittens, now. {exeunt R. i E.) Enter Constance up r. She moves down R. c. glancing at clock on mantel. Cons. Will the time never come .-* Oh, I wish to- day were past ! Enter Mrs. Ruth up l. in bonnet, etc. Mrs. Ruth. Constance ! — I have just left Douglas — at his hotel. He has told me the worst ! This afternoon you are to sign the papers that separate you forever. Cons. Yes. I could not tell you. Mrs. Ruth. When Douglas did not come to his own home, I knew, for the first time, how wide the gulf be- tween you had become. Is it too late ? Cons. Yes ! — Too late, {crossing L.) Mrs. Ruth. Douglas said the same. My heart is full, {she stops near door with her hands over her face _; rouses herself and turns) I — I shall always love you, Constance, as my own child ! Cons. Mother ! {going to her) Mrs. Ruth, {embracing her) My daughter ! {she kisses her and goes out R. i E. CONSTANCE stands looking after her) Enter John up l. with a card. Cons. I can see no one to-day, John — {takes card) except — Mr. Buxton Scott will be here — you may admit him at once. {Exit JOHN up L. CONSTANCE reads card) "Mrs. Richard — Chetwyn! " Mrs. Dick, {putting her head in at the door, up L.) How d'y* do ! Cons. Barbara ? Mrs. Dick. Dick and I have got married again. I'm using the same old cards. May I come in ? Cons. Certainly. Mrs. Dick. Til tell you all about it. {sitting beside her) It was private. We found that being divorced was worse than being incompatible. We were both awfully lonely. Ha, ha, ha ! Dick and I went through our courtship all over again, just as if we'd never been mar- ried at all. Poor Aunt Jane had another dreadful time with me. YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. 45 Cons. What do you mean ? Mrs. Dick. Aunt Jane Vandeveer brought me up, you know. The dear old maid ! I've always been her favorite niece. She's going to leave me all her money. I went to stay with Aunt Jane again after Dick and I were separated. She was more particular with me than she was when I was a young lady. Ha, ha, ha ! One day Aunt Jane and I passed Dick on Madison Avenue. Of course we didn't bow to each other. But Dick winked at me. Aunt Jane saw it. She was fearfully indignant. The next time we met — Aunt Jane was on the opposite side of me — I winked at Bob — I mean Dick. After that we carried on a regular flirtation with each other. He used to pass the house and wave his handkerchief. Aunt Jane always closed the parlor shutters with a bang, and I kissed my hand to him out of the second story window. Ha, ha, ha ! Then Dick sent me a secret note by one of the servants. We arranged a clandestine meeting in Stuyvesant Square ; and we went down to Long Beach together. Dick said sweet things to me all the afternoon, just as he did when we first fell in love ; and after it was dark, we wandered off on the beach by ourselves, in the moonlight— and I had tears in my eyes — and Dick kissed them away — and the next day we ran av/ay and got mar- ried. Cons. You — ^you ran away — with your own hus- band ? Mrs. Dick. I had to. Aunt Jane says she'll never forgive us. But she will. I always did run away to get married. Dick and I are having another honeymoon. Cons. I — I am very glad you are happy again, Bar- bara. Mrs. Dick. Thank you, my dear ; I knew you would be. I — I wish you were happy, too, Constance, {in a serious totte) Cons. I ? Mrs. Dick. Forgive me, Constance — but — I — I know things aren't quite as they should be. Perhaps I know more than I ought to. Women always do. Your hus- band hasn't been here since he landed ; and that was two weeks ago. I am so happy now with Dick — I don't like to see you miserable ; and I feel as if /might have had something to do with it. Cons. You ? 46 YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. Mrs. Dick. I was always such a thoughtless creature ! One night last winter I told you how Dick found Douglas at Mrs. Dunbar's house once or twice. I thought it was great fun then ; but I shouldn't think so now. When I was a grass-widow I often met Mrs. Dunbar. She's a grass-widow, too, you know. Grass-widows always do meet each other ; and they always talk about the infelici- ties of married life. That's one reason I'm glad to join the army of married women again. Mrs. Dunbar told me that it was nothing but a btisiiiess connection with Mr. Winthrop and her. Enter John, up L. John. Mr. Scott is here, madam. Mrs. Dick. He's the very man. {rising) Cons. Ask him to come in here, John, {exit JOHN) What do you mean, Barbara ? Mrs. Dick. Mrs. Dunbar said Buxton Scott knew all about it. Ask him, my dear, at once. I'll leave you with him. Is your mother in ? Cons. Yes. Mrs. Dick. I'll run and tell her all about Dick and me. I know she'll be glad to hear it. {exit R. i E.) Enter Buxton Scott, up l. Scott. Constance, my dear ! I'm very sorry to come on such an errand, {taking her hand) Is there anything you wish to say to me before Douglas arrives ? Cons. Yes ; I wish to ask you a question. Have you ever had any business connection with— Mr. Winthrop — and — and Mrs. Hepworth Dunbar ? Scott. Mrs. Dunbar ? {aside) Of course ! I might have known a woman would pop up somewhere in this case, {aloud) Yes, Constance, I had. But that is a professional confidence. Cons. As you please, Mr. Scott. It is not a matter that can now affect the future relations of Mr. Winthrop and me. We can never come together again. But it is not too late tor me to — be— yw^/^if I have wronged him. Scott, {aside) I'll be hanged if I give the devil a single point in the case — even for the sake of my profes- sional honor ; he doesn't care a rap for his professional honor, {aloud) I'll tell you the whole truth, Constance. Your brother Clarence YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. 47 Cons. Clarence ! What of him ? Scott. He was a confidential clerk, and he speculated in stocks — like many another young man. Result — a defalcation — fifty thousand dollars. Cons. Defalcation ! Scott. Doug-las saved him from imprisonment and disgrace — {she starts) by meeting the whole amount himself, out of his own fortune. Cons. Imprisonment — disgrace ! {sinkins; itt chair R. C.) Scott. It was impossible to prevent the criminal arrest of Clarence without the consent of rt:// the creditors. The only one that refused was Mrs. Hep worth Dunbar to whom a large amount of the misplaced securities be- longed. She had certain social grudges to make good ; Mr. Douglas Winthrop had declined to allow his wife to be introduced to Mrs. Dunbar. She had now an oppor- tunity to disgrace the family. Your husband was com- pelled to call upon her — frequently — in person. His last call was late one night. Clarence would have been ar- rested the next day. Douglas's appeal was in vain. He was called suddenly from her house that night by a mes- senger from home. On the following mornmg I called on Mrs. Dunbar myself I told her that the child of Douglas Winthrop had died the night before. Even a woman like that has a heart. Mrs. Dunbar had lost a child her- selt ; and the memory of her own sorrov/ made her merci- ful. Your brother was saved. His— fault— is the secret. {enter Douglas up l. Scott turns and goes up stage c.) Douglas is here. (Constance rises. Nodditig and moving up c, DOUGLAS bows to hi?n. Constance turns, attd they look at each other a moment ; DOUGLAS crosses to her R., extending his hand, which she takes) Doug. Constance, {he holds her hand a mo7nent, then drops it ; both standitig a mo7nent in silence, look- ing down L. c.) Cons. Douglas — I — I have this moment heard of a great kindness you have done my brother and — me. (Douglas glances sharply up at ScOTT) Do not blame him. I asked him to tell me. I — {with deep feeling) I thank you, Douglas. Doug. I only did what any man of proper feeling would have done under the same circumstances, {a long silence, both looking down, crosses R. to Constance, l.) 48 YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. Doug. Mr. Scott, we will proceed with the business before us. [both sit. Scott up c, looks fro?n one to the otJier, alternately, several times ; then moves down to table near C. front) Scott. 1 have drawn up four documents, {taking papers from his pocket) These two are duplicates. {reads endorsejneni on one of the papers) " Douglas Winthrop and Constance Winthrop — Deed of Separation." (Douglas and Constance, r. and l. Scott sits at table, opens the paper, and reads i?t a rapid business- like tone) " This Indenture, fnade the sevejtth day of May, eighteen hundred and eighty -two, by a?id between Douglas Winthrop, of the City and State of New York^ party of the first part, and Cotistaftce Witithrop, of the same place, party of the second part — Witnesseth ; Whereas the said parties of the first and secofid parts were lawfully united in wedlock on the twenty-eighth day of June in the year " {he stops suddenly in his quick reading, the to7ie of his voice changitig, and speaking slowly, with natural feeling) I remember that day perfectly. We all drove to the church together from the old homestead, near Concord. The marriage service never seemed so beautiful to me as it did that morning. Your dear old father's voice, Constance, had more than a pastor's tenderness in it as he uttered the words which you both repeated after him — " For better, for worse, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death us do part." (Constance a^id Douglas both rise, turn L. to mantel, showing sings of rising emotion as ScoTT proceeds) When you knelt at the chancel rail before him, his voice was trembling as he repeated that beauti- ful prayer : Send Thy blessing upon these thy servants ; that they may ever remain in perfect love and peace to- gether. (Constance and Douglas drop their heads sadly) As he pronounced the blessing — of a pastor and father in one — the sun came from behind a cloud — and the light streamed through the window on your heads. Douglas's mother was leaning on my arm. {heads bowed deeply) There were tears in her eyes, but a smile shone through them ; as if the love of a mother's heart was pouring zVj- blessing upon both her children — like the sun- shine through the window, {his voice is a little broken, and he brtishes a tear from his eye with his handker- chief) But — {brushes away another tear, leaving hand- YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. 49 kerchief 071 /rt<^/^)— Hem— this is a digression. We will proceed with the business before us. Doug, {turning round to Scott, with choking voice) Please read the papers as rapidly as possible, Mr. Scott. Cons. We — {choking) we need not delay more than is — absolutely — necessary. Scott, {resuming his rapid business tone ; reading) "And whereas said parties of the first and second parts," — but we shall not sign this instrument until we have considered the other papers. We will dispose of them at once, [putting down the deed of separation, taking up an- other paper and rising) This is a deed whereby Douglas Wmthrop conveys in fee simple to Constance Winthrop the old homestead where she was born, near Concord, Massachusetts, {pause) Some of the happiest hours of my life were passed there. You two children were al- ways running about the place. Constance was a perfect little tom-boy. Ha, ha, ha ! You both gave me a partic- ularly warm reception, one day, when I had just arrived frcm New York. I was going up the gravel walk. Your father was coming down the steps to meet me. Con- stance came bounding around the corner and you after her. She was running one way and looking the other. As your father was helping me to my feet, he remarked that those children were always upsetting something. Ha ! ha ! Five minutes after that, Douglas was in the cherry tree, and you were holding up your little apron for the fruit ; the old cherry tree down in the corner, near the summer house. Cons. Oh, no — the cherry tree was in the other cor- ner. Doug. Over near the old well. ScOTT. So it was. When you both grew older, I often saw you walking arm in arm on the lawn — after the stars came out. {to Douglas) Constance was always ex- plaining to me that you were giving her lessons in As- tronomy. You were quite as likely to be telling her where the stars were in the afternoon, as at night. Those were delightful days at the old homestead. Doug, and Cons. Delightful ! {with thoughtful manner, as if the force of old memories was beginning to i7ifluence theiu) Scott. I remember you had a lovers' quarrel about that time. Constance had given you a pair of slippers 50 YOUNG MRS. VVINTHROP. she had been working for you. When you quarrelled she took them away from you, and gave them to me. {all laughing) I remember, Constance had a little dark bay pony. Cons. Oh, no ! {moving to l. c, near Scott) It was gray. Doug. With a black spot on the left shoulder, {mov- ing down to R. c.) Scott. Dappled gray — so it was. His name was Jack. Cons. Oh, no ! Doug. No ! Cons. It was Jenny. Scott, Oh, yes — of course ; his name was Jenny. The first time Douglas helped you to mount — Jenny {turjiing to Douglas) you gave her too strong a lift ! Doug. Yes. {with a sinile) Scott, {to Constance) You fell over on the other side ! Cons. Yes. (Constance and Douglas laugh gently and pleasantly . ScOTT laughs with them quietly, mov- ing back a step) Scott. The old family carriage horse — his name was Jack. Doug, {crosses to C. Both meet at table c.) Now he was dark bay. {to CONSTANCE) You used to drive Jack for your father {in front of ScOTT) when he made his pastoral visits. (ScOTT gradually retires up stage L.) Cons. I always sat in the carriage, to keep the flies off Jack, Doug. I often met you on the road ; and I used to think you were doing as pious a work outside, making the old horse comfortable, as your father was doing in- side. Cons. Old Jack was one of the family. Dear old Jack ! {sits c.) Doug. Dear old Jack ! Scott, {up l. c.) Dear old Jack ! {comes dow 71 and puts chair side of CONSTANCE behi?id DOUGLAS, who is standing with handrestingon ^a^/& ^/Constance's chair. Steals quietly back up stage C. He stands up, pretend- ing to look over deed, but watching thejn) Doug. Do you remember one such afternoon, Con- YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. 51 stance ? You were sitting in front of the little house where the old sexton's widow lived. Cons, {smiling) How often we used to run down there when we were children ! Doug, {sits) Yes — she always had fresh doughnuts for us on Saturdays, {sitting at her side near the table. Scott turns his back and pretends to be reading, but shrugs his shoulders as if laughing to himself, Con- stance nods smiling) But we had grown older at the time I am thinking of now. I joined you in the carriage. I I asked you a question that afternoon {taking her hand, arm around waist) Do you remember your an- swer ? Cons. Yes. {as if lost in memory) Doug. That was the very word, yes ; I asked you to be— my — wife. Oh, Constance ! — I was the happiest man in the world. Scott. They're doing very well without a lawyer. {exit up L.) Doug. We were in the shade of the great elm. Old Jack turned his head and looked back at us, as if he was giving us his consent. This ring — {referring to otie on her finger) was the pledge oT the promises we made to each other that day ; our initials are engraved inside of it. Cons. And the word — " Forever." Doug. When I placed it on your finger, in the dear old home — {gradually extenditig his arm around her waist) I drew you to me — {raisi?tg her ha7id towards his lips and I — {he suddenly stops j his eye resting upon the deed of separation, on the table near him. He slowly withdraws his arm and drops her hand j reaches for- ward and takes the paper, finally holding it in both hands before him, and looki?tg at it steadily. CONSTANCE looks at the paper, draws up, rises and walks R. Douglas starts to his feet, drops the paper upojt the table, and turns up L. under strojig emotion. He stands for a moment before speaking, as if collectijtg his thooghts, a?id bringing his feelings under control) We — we were losing ourselves — in — in dreams of the past. Cons. We had forgotten the — the present Doug, {as if suddenly 7ioting ScoTT's absence) Mr. Scott ! Mr. Scott ! {re-enter ScOTT ttp L. The deed is still in his hand. He stops C, and looks R. and L.) ScOTT. I beg your pardon. I left my handkerchief in 52 YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. my hat outside, [moving down C. He discovers his hajidkerchief on the table ; picks it up quickly and thrusts it into his pocket, glancittg each way. He then begins to read very rapidly from the deed in his hand') " Said party of the first part does by these presents, grant sell, release, convey and confirm — m-m-m — heirs and as- signs forever the premises hereinafter described m-m-m-m, namely, to wit — South side of the Boston Highroad — in- tersection of the county line — thence in a southerly direc- tion along the western bank of the Coolsac Creek " — Speaking of the Coolsac Creek, by the by — {dropping suddetily to a conversational tone) I saw the same old clump of willows on the opposite bank, when I was there last summer. That was a sort of meeting place for young lovers. I remember, one day — I met Douglas and a lady there. You remember it, Douglas — what was her name ? It was Douglas and Miss — [turning to Con- stance who draws up sharply and looks around. Douglas looks surprised) That particular friend of yours. Constance — Miss — Kate — Miss — really, I Cons. Kate Fairfield ! Scott. Yes — that's the name. Douglas was arrang- ing a bunch of violets in her hair. But this is a digres- sion. I beg your pardon, {reads rapidly) "With all and singular the tenements, hereditaments, and appur- tenances thereunto belonging ; and the said party of the first part " Doug. Pardon me, Mr. Scott — but you are mistaken ; — I was never at the place you refer to with Miss Kate Fairfield. Cons, {with great dignity and sigfts of rising jeal- ousy) Mr. Scott's memory may be more accurate than yours. Doug. But I protest — I Cons. You were saying, Mr. Scott .'' Scott. Let me see — it was — no — ah — I am mistaken — now I think again — I get you young people so mixed up when I recall those days — it was Mr. Lawrence Armytage — and — Constance. (DOUGLAS ««<^ Constance both start) Cons. Nothing of the kind ! {moving down R. a few steps indignantly. Scott turns up stage c. standing with his back to the audience and looking up at the wall^ YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. 53 Doug. Mr. Lawrence Armytage was frequently at the house — when /calldd. Cons. Kate Fairfield lived on the Highroad between your house and mine. Doug. Mr. Armytage had always dropped in — to see — your father. Cons. Whenever you were late — you — {choking) you always said it was the old sexton's widow ! {angrily crossing to him L.) I saw you, myself — talking with Kate Fairfield over the gate — while I was passing in the carriage with lather — the very day before I took away your slippers and gave them to Mr. Scott — and Fm glad I did it ! {drawing up before him, angrily ; then turning her back on him ; and returning R. with a dignity in absurd contrast with the words and situation') Doug, {following her R.) And the very day after that you discovered I was only asking Miss Fairfield if her mother would lend my mother the hemmer of her sewing-machine ! — and you took the slippers away from Mr. Scott, and sent them back to me ! Cons. Oh! {he returns \.. triumphantly. She turns toward hi)n) I didti't send them back to you ! Doug. You .? {turning sudderily) Mr. Scott ! {ap- pealing earnestly to ScOTT up stage) Scott. Eh ? {jumpitig around suddenly) Cons, {to Scott) He says /sent those slippers back to him. You know I didn't — don't you ? Scott. Certainly, you didn't {starting down c.) Doug. The package was addressed in her handwrit- ing. ScoTT. Yes — Constance wrote the address {still mov- ing down) Cons. Mr. Scott sent it — by the boy — himself. Scott. Yes — I sent it. {c. front) Doug. It is quite immaterial ; I dare say you sent an- other pair to Mr. Armytage. Cons. O-o-o-o-o-h ! {bursting into sobs R. c. Douglas stands l. C. with his arms folded. ScoTT looks from one to the other a moment) Scott. Ah, by the way, it has just occurred to me : it was Mr. Armytage and Miss Fairfield I saw together under the willows. Cons. Oh ! {looking up from her sobs) It wasn't either of us. 54 YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. Scott. When I saw Douglas in the lane — you were with him, Constance. Doug. Oh ! It was both of us. Scott, {to Douglas) You had been gathering some water lilies for Constance. Cons. Oh, yes ! {brightly with sudden recollection) Scott, {to Constance) It was the day he fell into the pond. Doug. Yes. Scott. He got into the mud up to the knees. Cons. I remember ! Doug. So do I ! Scott, {to Douglas) Constance tried to pull you ^ut of the water ; and {to Constance) He pulled you in ! (Constance and Dougt>as burst into a merry laugh, nodding at each other across ScOTT) We will proceed with the business before us. {their faces suddetily drop) Returning to the original deed of separation, {taking up the deed. CONSTANCE and DOUGLAS look up at each other, across stage, at back, then drop their eyes. ScOTT reads) *• The said Douglas Winthrop and the said Constance Winthrop, his wife, have by mutual con- sent agreed to live separate and apart from each other ; — and whereas the said " {enter Edith r. u. e.) Edith ! Edith. Mr. Scott ! {music pp.) Scott, {going to her) I have some news for you, Edith. Your brother Douglas is here. Edith. Oh ! Where is he ? {he leads her to Douglas who meets her l. c.) Edith. Douglas ! {throwing her arms aroujid his neck) Doug. Edith — my little sister ! Edith. Oh — I am so glad you have come home — so glad ! We shall all be happy now. Doug. Happy ! — Yes. Edith. Constance has missed you so much, Douglas — so much ! You won't go away from us again — will you ? Doug. I— I Scott. My little pet ! {taking her from Douglas, who turns up stage a few steps) Scott. I know you have a great deal to tell Douglas, but not now. Sit down, Edith, {leading her to seat L.) Edith. Oh, very well — I will wait. But I am so glad Douglas is home again. YOUNG MRS. WINTHROP. 55 Doug. {apa7't in Scott's ea7') We — we cannot go on with this — in her presence. Scott, {apart to him) I need not read the rest of the paper. You and Constance can sign it — in silence, (Constance ^/rzw^/j- R. Partly 71 p stage. Scott returns to the table near C front ; takes up the deed of separa- tion and tur?is,faci?igCo^^TKNCK and Douglas) There is one piece of property not mentioned in any of these deeds ; — a burial lot in Greenwood Cemetery, with one little grave, {a pause, Constance and Douglas looking down, with bowed heads) Edith. Mother and I went to Greenwood yesterday, Douglas. You and Constance must go with us next time. The place where Rosie lies is covered with flowers. (Constance and Douglas give way to their tears, both droppi7ig their faces into their hands") Scott. Even a lawyer cannot divide that property, nor the memories of a father and mother that cluster about the grave of their child : — and there is a little soul that belongs to you both, (he turns to the table, turning over the leaves of the deed to the last page) You — you will both sign — here — if you please, {he takes up the pe7i, dips it i7ito the i7ik, a7id turns, holdi7ig it towards tJieui. Duri7ig this actio7i they have rushed into each other s Lirnis,weepi7ig. Picture. ScOTT turns a7id drops the pe7i, taki7ig the deed a7id teari7ig it) I have won the case, {he walks tip c.) E7iter Mrs. Ruth r. i. e. with an excla77iatio7i, looking at Douglas ««^/ Constance with her back to audience. Douglas looks up to her, i7teets her up R. C, e/nbrac- i7ig her. War 71 curtai7i. E7iter Herbert tip l. Places a ring up07i Edith's first fi7iger. E7iter Mrs. Dick R. i.e. saili7ig i7i rapidly) Mrs. Dick, {as she e7tters) I've been away from Dick for nearly two hours, {she tur7is C, Jt'^//z^ DOUGLAS) Mr. Winthrop ! {goes to hi77i a7id takes his hand) Doug. {s77iiling) Mrs. Dick 1 Mrs. Dick. Constance! (/z^r;n';/^ / Miller's Maid 94 Awkward Arrival 95 Crossing the Line 96 Conjugal Lesson VOL. XIII. 97 My Wife's Mirror 98 Life in New York 99 Middy Ashore 100 Crown Prince 101 Two Que. ns 102 Thumping Legacy 103 Unfinished Gentlenian 194 House Dog VOL. XIV. 105 The Demon Lover 106 Matrimony 107 In and Out of Place 108 I Dine with My Mother 109 Hi-a-wa-tha 110 A ndv Blake ■ lil Love in '76 [tie- 112 Romance under Diffl VOL. XV. J 13 One Coat for a Suits 114 A Decided Case 1 1 5 Daugh ter [norlty 116 No; or, the Glorious Mi- 117 Coroner's Inquisition 118 Love in Humble Life 119 Family Jars 120 I'ersoiiation VOL. XVI. 121 Children in the Wood 122 Winning a Husband 123 Day After the Fair 124 Make Your Willi 125 Rendezvous jiL uic. ;r. >v. r>..i. f 126 My Wife's Husband 4b Kiss m the Dark D?'-er ,^, M^„^g„ - Con- 47 'Twould PuMle 48 Kill or Cure 49 Box and^Cox Married and !?? M'iehief-^?«king[Mln.s [Settled eur Tonson Il28 Illustrious Stranger VOL. XVII. 5'l St. Cupid 51 Go-to-bed Tom 52 The Lawyers 53 Jack Sheppard 54The Toodles 55 The Mobcap 56 Ladies Beware VOL. VI If. 57 Morning Call 58 Popping the Question 59 Deaf as a Post 60 New Footman 61 Pleasant Neighbor 62 Paddy the Piper 63 Brian O'Linn 64 Irish Assurance VOL. IX. 65 Temptation 66 Paddy Carey 67 Two Gregories 68 King Charming 69 Po-cs-hon-tas 70 Clockmaker's Hat 71 MarrlHd R«ke 72 Love and Murder VOL. X. 73 Ireland and America 74 Pretty Piece of Business 76 Irish Broom-maker 76 T» Paris and Back f«r Five Pounds 77 That Blessed Baby 78 On> Oal 1* Swiss Cottage 80 Yeung Widow 130 A Live Woman in the 131 The Corsair 132 Shy lock !33 Spoiled Chili 134 Evil Eye 13;. Nothing to Nurse 136 Wanted a Widow VOL. XVIIL 137 Lottery Ticket !.38 Fortune's Frollo 139 Is he Jealoust 140 Married Bachelor 141 Husband at Sight 142 Irishman in London 143 Animai Magnetism 144 Highways and By-Ways VOL. XIX. 145 Columbus 146 Harlequin Bluebeard 147 Ladies at Home 148 Phenomenon in a Smock Frock 149 Comedy and Tragedy 150 Opposite Neighbors 151 Dutchman's Ghost 152 Persecuted Dutchman VOL. XX. 163 Musard Ball 154 Great Tragic Revival 155 High Low Jack & Game 156 A Gentleman from Ire- 167 Tom and Jerry [land 158 VilUge Lawyer 159 Captain's not A-miss 160 Amateurs and Actors I VOL. XXI. 161 Promotion [aal 162 A FascinatlHg Individ- 163 Mrs. Caudle 164 Shakespeare's Dr«»m 165 Neptune's Defeat 166 Laay of Bedchamber '.67 Take Care of Little 168 Irish Widow [Charley VOL. XXII. 169 Yankee Peddler 170 Hiram Hiraout 171 Double-Bedded Room 172 The Drama Defended 173 Vermont Wool Dealer 174 Ebenewr Venture [ter 175 Principles from Charac- 176 Ladv of the Lake (Trav) Vol. xxiii. 177 Mad Dogs 178 Barney the Baron 179 Swiss Swains 180 Bachelor's Bedroom 181 A Roland for an Oliver 182 More Blunders than One 183 Dumb Belle 1«4 LUnirick Boy VOL. XXIV. 185 Hature and Philosophy 186 Teddy the Tiler 187 Spectre Bridegroom 188 Matteo Falcone 189 Jenny Lind 190 Two BuMardi 191 Happv Man 192 Bets v" Baker Vol. XXV, 193 No. 1 Round the Comer 194 Teddy Roe 195 Object of Interest 196 My Fellow Clerk 197 Bengal Tiger 198 Laughing Hvena 199 The Victor Vanquishtd 200 Our Wife VOL. XXVI. 201 My Husband's Mirror 202 Yankee Land J03 Norah Creina 204 Good for Nothing 205 The First Night 206 The Eton Boy 207 Wandering Minstrel 208 Wanted, KXH) Milliners VOL. XXVlL 209 Poor Pilcoddy 210 The Mummy [Glasses 211 Don't Forgr-t your Opera 212 Love in Livery 213 Anthony and Cleopatra 214 Trvlng it On 215 Stage Struck Yankee 216 Young Wife & Old Um- brella VOL. XXVIII. 217 Crinoline 218 A Family Failing 219 Adopted Child 220 Turned Heads 2'Jl A Match in the Dark 222 Advice to Husbands 223 Siamese Twins 224 Sent to the Tower VOL. XXIX. 225 Somebody Else 2. '8 Ladies' Battle 227 Art of Acting 228 The Lady of the Lions 229 The Rightfc of Man 230 My Husband's Ghost 231 Two Can Play at that Game VOL. XXXL 241 C»oI as Cucumber 242 Sudden Thoughts 243 Jumbo Jum 244 A Blighted Being 245 Little Toddlekins 246 A Lover by Proxy [Pail 247 Maid with the Milking 248 Perplexing Predicament VOL. XXXli. 249 Dr. Dil worth 260 Out to Nurse 251 A Lucky Hit 252 The Dowager 253 Metamora (Burlesqne) 254 Dreams of Delusion 265 The Shaker Lovers 256 Ticklish Times VOL. XXX IIL •/57 20 Minutes with a Tiger 258 Miralda ; or, the Justice of Tai.--on 259 A Soldier's Courtship 260 Servants by Legacy 261 Dying for Love 232 Fighting by Proxy VOL. XXX. 233 Unprotected Female 834 Pet of the PetticoaU 235 Forty and Fiftv [book 236 Who Stole tlie Pocket- 237 My Son Diana [sion 238 Unwarrantable I n t r u - 239 Mr. and Mrs. White 24« A Quiet Family (French's Minor Drama Continued on )d page of Cover.) 262 Alarming Sacrific* 263 Valet de Sham 264 Nicholas Nickleby VOL. XXXIV< 265 The Last of the Pigtails 266 King Rene's Daughter 267 The Grotto Nymph 268 A Devilish Good Joke 269 A Twice Toid Tale 270 Pas de Fascination 71 Revolutionary Soldier 272 A Man Without a Head VOL. XXXV. 273 The Olio, Part 1 «74 Tbe Olio, I'art S 275 The Olio, Part 3 [ter 276 The Trumpeter's Daugh- 277 Seeing Warren 178 Green Mountain Boy 279 That Nose 280 Tom Noddy's Secret VOL. XXXVL 281 Shocking Events 282 A Regular Fix 283 Dick Turpin 3S4 Young Scump 285 Young Actress 2w6 Call at No. 1—7 287 One Touch of Naturt 288 Two B'hoy» VOL. xxxvn. 289 Ail the World's a Stage '/'90 Quash, or Niggjer Prac- 291 Turn H,im Out [tice 292 Pretty Girls of Stillberg 293 Angel of the Attic 294 CircumstancesalterCaiei 295 Katty O'Sheal 296 A Supper in Dixie VOL. XXXVIII. 297 Ici on Parle Francals 298 Who Killed Cock Robin 299 Declaration of Independ- 300 Heads or Tails [cnce 301 Obstinate Family 302 My A unt 303 That Rascal Pat .304 Don Paddy de Bazin VOL. XXXIX. [ture 305 Too Much for Good Na- 306 Cure for the Fidgets [307 Jack's the Lad 308 Much Ado AboutNothfng 309 Artful Dodger 310 Winning Haxard 311 Dav's Fishing [Ac. 312 Did you ever send your, VOL. XL. 313 An Irishman's Maneuver 314 Cousin Fannie 315 'Tis the Darkest Hourbe- 316 Masquerade [fore Dawn 317 Crowding the Season 31S Good Night's Rest 319 Man with the Carpet Bag 320 Terrible Tinker i^SEND FOR A NEW DESCRIPTIVE CATALOGUE. (French's Standard Drama Continued from 2d page of Cover.) 321 ■i->-i 3« 3-^4 ■i-Io 3-J6 3-J8 :i:50 3.33 3:« 3:<.=i 336 VOL. XLI. The Pirate's Letriicy 'Ihe Clian oal liurner ■ AJelj^iUia "Seiiof- \'aliente Forest Rose I hike's Daughter Camilla's Husband Pure (ii,\A VOL. XLIL Ticket of Leave Man Fool's Reveiijre O'Neil Llie Great Handy Andy Pirate of the IbIm Fanclion Little Barefoot Wild Irish tiirl VOL. XLIIL Pearl of .Savoy I >ead Heart Ten Nights in a Bar-room Dnnili Boy of Manchester VOL. XHV. 345 Drunkard's Doom 346 Jhiiiiney Corner ,47 Kifteeii Year.s nf a Drunk- 348 No Thoroughfare rard'a|i372 Led Astray 349 Peep O' Day H-ife 350 Everybody's Friend 3,il G.n. Gr.-iut 35i Kathleen Mftvnurneen VOL. XLV. .353 Nick Whiffles 354 Fruits of the Wine Cup 355 Drunkard's Warninjc 366 Temperance DocttT ■ 361 Aunt Dinah 358 Widow FreeheMt 359 Frou Frou .■;60 Long Strike VOL. XLVr, 361 Lancers 36-i Ln ille .3ii3 Randall's Thumb 364 Wicked World 3 9 340 341 BelphegortheAfounteb'k 36S Two Orphans 34'i ■ ------ 343 344 Cricket on the Hearth Printer's- Devil Mejj's Diversion 366<'olIeen Bawn , 367 'Twixt A.ve and Crown 36S Lady Clancarthy Vol. xlvil 369 Saratoga 370 Never Too Late to Mend 371 Lily of France 373 Henry V 374 Unequal Match 375 M.ay or Dolly's Delusion 376 Allat.iona VOL. XLVUL 377 Enoch Arden 378 Under the Gas Light 379 Daniel RoclMk 380 Caste 381 School '38'i Home ;i83 David Garrfek 384 Ours VOL. XLIX. 385 Social Glass 386 Daniel Drute 387 Two Roses 388 Adrienue .89 The Bells SSOUncle 391 Courtship 39-2 Not .Such a Fool VOL. L, .393 Fine Feat^ ers 394 Prompter's Bor 395 Iron Master 396 Engaged 97 Pygmalion & Galatea 398 Leah {99 Scrap of Paper ;00 Lost in Loudon VOL. LL 101 Ortoroon 402 Confederate Spy 403 Mariner's Return 40^ Ruined by Drink 405 Dreams 406 M. P. 401 War 408 Birth VOL. LI I. 409 Niglitingale 410 Progress 411 Plav 412 Mid'night Charge 413 Confidential Clerk 414 Snowball 415 Our Regiment 416 Married for Money Hamlet in Three Act* Guttle &. Gulpit FRENCH'S INTERNATIONAL COPYRIGHTED EDITION OF THE WORKS OF THE BEST AUTHORS. The following very successful plays have just been issued at 25 cents per copy. A PAIR OF SPECTACLE =?. Comedy i- 3'AcU by &vu.\ky Gbundy, author of "Sowing the Wind," Ac. » male, 3 female characters. A FOOL'S PARADISE. An original play in 3 Alts by SvPNKY tiRrxrY, author of '"Sowing the Wind." he. 5 male, 4 female characters. THE SILVER SHIELD. An original comedy in 3 Acts by Syonkv Grundy, author of ''Sowing the Wind," <&c. 5 male, 3 female characters. TFTE GLASS OF T^ASHIOK. An original com- edy in 4 Acts by Svonky Grundy, »uthor of "Sowing the Wiud^" &c. 5 male, 5 female characters. THE BALLOON, Farcical comedy in 3 AcU by J. H. DhKm.kv and Manville Fknn. 6 male, 4 female characters. 1 MISS CLEOPATRA. Farce in 3 Acts by Abtk(;b i Shiklky. 7 male, 3 female characters. j SIX PERSONS. Comedy Act by I. Zanswili,. 1 male, 1 female character. FASHIONABLE INTELLIGENCE. Comedi- etta in 1 Act by Pekcy Fend-ll. 1 male, I female character. HfGT^LAND LEGACY. Comedy in 1 Act bv Brandon Tho.vas, authir of "Charley's Annt." male, 2 female characters. Contents of Catalogue which is sent Free, Anmteur Drama Amateur Operas Articles Needed by Amateurs Art of Scene Painting Baker'f Reading Club Beards, Whiskers, Mustaches, etc. Bo'inil St^ts of I'lavs Bulwer Lytton's Plays Bnrl.sque Dramas Burnt Cork Cabman's Story Carnival of Authors Charade Plays Childrt-n's Plays Comic Dramas for Male Characters only Costume Books Crape Hair > Cuuiberlaiid Edition Darkey Dramas Dramas for Boys Drawing-room "Monologues Elocution, Reciters and Speakers Ethiopian Dramas Eveuinsr's Entertainment Fairy and Home Plays French's Costunves Freni'h's Editions French's Italian Operas French's Parlor Comedies French's Stamlard and Minor Drama French's Standard and Minor Drauia, bound French's Scenes for Amateurs Frobisher's Topuliir Recitals Ur.and Army Dnamas (juide Books for Amutenrs Early Bird 341 Aluranl Piay 342 Show of Hands 343 Karbara 344 Who's Who VOL. XLIV. 345 Who's To Win Him 346 W^hich is Which 347 Cup of Tea 34S Sarah's Young Man 349 Hearts 350 In Honor Bound [Law 351 Freezing a Motber-iB» 352 My LK)rd in Livery SAMUEL FRENCH, 26 West 22d St., New York City. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 0_016 117 617 5 ^