PS 3505 .L68 ne 1901 Copy 1 .A MODERN MAGDALEN AN ORIGINAL DRAMA IN THREE ACTS jl BY ISABEL MONCRIEFF CopyrlgKt 1901 by Helena Clendenen A MODERN MAGDALEN AN ORIGINAL DRAMA IN THREE ACTS BY ISABEL MONCRIEFF \| i ... / Copyright 1901, Bv Helena Clendenen \4 '"^f LIBRARY OfT CONGRESS, I -") Copied REosivrDJ ^'^^■^' n 1902] P53S05^ CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY Col. Roger Fairfax, U. S. V. Capt. Cajetan Cardenas \ Dick Speedwell ^ of the Fairfax Roughriders. Texas Harding ; General Rivers, commanding the U. S. forces in Cuba. Dr. Diego Otero, steward and self-appointed physician on the Juarez plantation. Jose Quitas, overseer on the Juarez plantation. Tonio, a Juarez possession. Magdalen van Orsdale, an American heiress. Lolita Juarez, cousin to Cardenas, and owner of rich Cuban estates. Marthy Stebbins, aunt to her community. Madge Stebbins, her adopted child. Sarah Ann Ford, Aunt Marthy's "helpmeet." La Rosa, a Santiago dancer, and protegee of Lolita Juarez. A maidservant. Soldiers, Red Cross nurses, musicians, etc. A MODERN MAGDALEN. A Drama in Three Acts. By Isabel Moncrieff. ACT I. At the Stebbins farm on Long Island in early June of 1898. Scene I. — The dooryard of the old farmhouse. In the extreme left foreground stands the house. But one side is visible and is seen obliquely. Across its entire width is a covered porch which at the upper corner shows its con- tinuance around the house. A door and window open onto the porch. The steps directly opposite the dooi- are broad and low. From them lead two much worn foot- paths, one running to the left, the other to the right in the immediate foreground. At the left stands a large tree whose !< wer branches touch the porch-roof. At ihe extreme right i.s a clump of trees. One of them is circled by a broad shelf whit-h serves as a tabie. in cuuveiiient proximity t-> ihis stand a rustic seat and bench. A large tree occupies the middle foregi'ound. Between it and the pillar in the elbow of the porch is slung a hammock. In the background the yard slopes smoothly to the sea. There is an entrance at the left from behind the house. It is early morning. At the rise of the curtain Madge is discovered sitting comfortably among the pillows in the hammock — her face turned to the sea. Her sunbonnet dangles at her back. She stretches her arms and yawns. Sarah Ann appears in the doorway, which is screened. Her gingham gown ai.d apron are in Keeping v/ith lier face and form — clean, stiff, precise. Throughout the play her costume varies only in color and pattern of goods. Sarah Ann (in a shrill, rasping voice.) — Maggie! Madge falls quickly back among the pillows and, closing her eyes, assumes a posture of sleepful repose. Sarah Ann, flapping hei- apron to clear the door of flies, comes out, closing the screen quickly. Sarah Ann (a note of anger added) — Maggie! Aunt Marthy (from within I — She was right on the steps jes' a teeny spell ago. I guess she haint fer off. Sarah Ann (snappishly) — No, I guess she haint. Aunt Marthy (still within) — Call thet 1 want 'er, Sairey Ann. Sarah Ann (stubbornly) — Ef she can't hear one word, Sairey Ann Ford haint a-wastin" no time' screechin" more. (Shooing at the flies again, she goes in.) Aunt Marthy appears in the doorway. She is stout, hearty, red-cheeked ; her hair still glossy lihic k. her eyes bright. She pushes her glasses upon her head. Aunt Marthy (in a despairing tone addressed within) — I dunno which tries my pjitience m.ost — you er Madge. One o' ye"s got to give in.' It "pears like you might begin by 6 ^ A MODERN MAGDALEN namin' 'er right. Maggie she wont never answer to ef ye 'uz to call till kingdom come. (Comes out to the steps;, u Madge : Ma-a-cige ! Madge (sleepily) — Is it time to get up? Aunt Marthy coming down crosses to the rustic-bench and seats herself. She puts her glasses in place on her nose and calmly watches Madge. Madge yawns and opening her eyes lets a bewildered glance fall on Aunt Marthy. Madge (sitting up) — .How long have I been asleep? Aunt Marthy (patiently) — I guess ye can answer thet best yerself. Ye" re 'nuff 'wake now to hear me, an' I hev sunthin' to say to ye. Madge, fidgeting with her bonnet-strings, crosses to the rustic chair, slowly seating herself. Aunt Marthy — Never sence ye 'uz a teeny baby have ye meant to make me trouble. Be ye goin' to mean to iiow .' ( I'ause. lu wnich Madge hangs her head, her face set.) Ye're old 'nuflE now to see the right o' things, an' ye mus' see thet you an" me can't do the housework 'ith Roger here an' Magdalen a-comin'. Madge (jerking her bonnet and savagely biting the strings) — You needn't have hired Sarah Ann Ford. Aunt Marthy (reproachfully) — Ye know I don't want no hired stranger here. I know what Sairey Ann's help is, an' Madge (interrupting fiercely) — And I know what her tongue is. She can lord it over you Aurt Marthy (steruiyt — Tut. luc . Sairey Ann Ford an' me's ben neighbors goin' on forty year — ever sence John brou2ht me home a bride. She's five year older'n me, an' she's alius bed thet bossy way. She don't mean nothin'. Madge (hotly) — Don't she! Well, she can't boss me, the sour old maid I Aunt Marthy (starting and glancing apprehensively to- ward the house) — Tut 1 tut 1 child. Don't make things worse. Be a help to me. not a hiuderance. Sairey Ann's crotchety, there hain't no denyin' it. but 'er heart's in the right place. (Madge sneers.) I dunno what I'd a-done 'ithout "er when John an' my little Annie died. She loved Annie nigh ez much ez I did, an" I guess she don't rersh it 'cause you"ve took Annie's place. Madge (brokenly) — That's not my fault. That doesn't excuse her. She always hated me. Y'ou know even when I was little she'd never let me inside her house. What right has she to come 7?rrr to taunt me? She hadn't been here an^ hour yesterday when she told me she'd come to be your helpmeet, but she didn't intend to help you coddle and humor and make a fine lady of a foundling-brat like me. ( Sobbing passionately, she buries her face in her crumpled bonnet.) Aunt Mai-t-bv (p+oi-pi^-. bor face clouded) — Ye. must a-done sunthin' to rile 'er ; ye — ^— Mndee (chokingly, as sue uucovers her face) — She came out here when I was reading. She said my place was in the kitchen; that I am no-account like — oh'! (choking and flingirg her arms on the shelf and hiding her face in them.) Ar'^f Marthy (rising to bend over Madge and touch her hair in a manner indicating unacquaintance with dem- onstration) — Sairev Ann savs a heap she don't mean, the wav lots o' other" folks does. Mebbe she knows sunthin' A MODERN MAGDALEN 'bout yer antycedents, but I guess ef she lied a-knowed she'd a-told 'fore this. My John and my Annie both begged 'er when they was a-dyin' to tell ef she knowed. She wouldn't a-hed the' heart Madge (throwing her head up fiercely) — Heart! She hasn't any. else she'd think of Sarah Ann (appearing in the doorway, and interrupting with her rasping voice) — Marthy I Madge hurriedly straightens up, looking fiercely ahead of her. Aunt Marthy, with a nervous start, makes great pre- tense of straightening and tying her apron. Aunt Marthy (with unconscious meekness) — Yes, Sairey. Sarah Ann — Its nigh onto 7 o'clock. Time the churnin' uz begun. I've got to go to ironin'. There's five white skirts an' a white dress an' Aunt Marthy (hurrying toward the house) — Yes, Sairey, yes. I'm a-comin'. Sarah Ann. after the preliminary apron-fllapping, comes quickly out. She darts an angry glance at Madge. Sarah Ann (severely) — Marthy Jane Stebbins, be you a-goin' to do thet churnin' ? Aunt Marrhy Uiurrieuiy) — The cellar's a mite chilly, an' Madge liain't a-feelin" right peart. Sarah Ann (advancing huniedly to the steps and peering at Madge in exaggerated astonishment) — Massy sake! I never see 'er when she wa'n't peart. Madge, .jumping to her feet, faces Sarah Ann, her eyes burning with tier.v hate. Aunt Marthy ("with nervous haste) — Sairey Ann, hain't suvjthin' a-burnin'V Sarah Ann (turning to go in. with a grin of malicious content) — Ye don't smell nothin" a-burnin' inside the house, (following Aunt Marthy in). Madge, her face suffused with anger, stands with hands tightly clasped, lips parted, teeth clinched. Madge (stamping her foot with uncontrolled ra.ge)-— TTgh I Roger enters from L. He is in riding costume, whip in hand. Catching sight of Madg*^, he i)ulls himself up into a military attitude. lioger (levelling the wh'p at Madge i — Halt ! (Madge starts backward with a nervoxis shriek). Ah I (with relief) the danger is averted. (With a professional' air) How often are you taken? (Madge starts off with an injured air.) Don't go off now! Madge ( witheringly) — It pleases you to be funny. Roger (gravely) — Quite as much as it pains ^e to be sorry. Madge (coming back with exaggerated concern) — Y'^oa must be in pain now. Y'ou're (sneeringly) so sorry-looking. (Seating herself on the rustic bench.) Roger — A reflection, (taking a chair and laying his hat on the shelf). Your fits of anger Madge (with an upward tilt of her head) — Are mine. Roger (slowly) — Ye-e-s. And the effects we yours. If such wrath explodes daily, you can't last long. Take yesterday, for instance, and the burst was over such an old grievance, too. Today I suppose it's a new one. Madge ( gloomily) — No, an old one — Sarah Ann. Roger (laughing) — ^Poor Sarah Ann! Madge ( flaring up) — Poor Sarah Ann ! (catching her breath convulsively). I hate her, oh how I hate her! A MODERN MAGDALEN With her in the house life's just unbearable. She's the last straw. Roger (amused) — Then I earnestly hope a gust of Fate won't send her blowing out here just now. Madge (scornfully) — You wouldn't tind it so funny if you had to endure what I do from her. But 1 sha'nt put up with her any longer. I'm going away. Roger (seriously) — When do you go? Madge — Today. (Drumming decisively on the shelf.) Roger — Where ? Madge — As" far as I can get, and I'm never coming back. Roger (twirling his whip) — Do you go alone V Madge (eyeing him suspiciously) — You needn't think I'd hesitate or be afraid, just because I've never been off this island or farther away from home than the town where I went to school. Roger (calmly) — You're mistaken in the thought that prompted my question. I had a romantic idea that a damsel in such distress (eyeing her closely) might know of some noble knight who would come to her rescue. ]SIadge (scornfully) — I guess if there were you'd be apt to know it. Roger (lightly) — Why should I? True, I heard from you regularly during the weeks I was abroad, but much might have happened since I sailed for home. As I came here but yesterday there might be some news I haven't heard. Madge (impatiently) — ^I'm just about as free here as I'd be in a cloister. You know Aunt Marthy well enough to be sure no man would ever come here more than once. Roger ( queer ly ) — No '? Madge — No. (Laughing shortly.) Oh, you — we've known you years and years. Aunt Marthy thinks you're old enough to be quite safe. Roger ^ (flinching, but quickl.y recovering himself) — But you go away occasionally. (Slowly.) Have you never met anyone whose attention you favored (watching her closely, Madge making no sign). Have you never thought of marriage as a way out of a life distasteful to you? Madge — It would be a waste of time, wouldn't it ? Roger (leaning smilingly toward her) — So you never waste any time in that direction? Madge (an elbow on the shelf, her chin in her hand) — Often. Roger (straightening up gravely) — Often I Madge (sighing) — Very often. (Lowering her voice.) Whenever (leaning confidentially toward him) I think of • . Roger (^in a low tone) — Yes? Madge — Stebbins 1 Roger (flinging himself up with a laugh) — So a better name must be the first inducement to marriage. (Dream- ily) How would such a name as — as^ — (pulling himself up sharply) oh, such as Madge (impatiently, as she twirls her bonnet by the strings) — ^You could find a better one without looking very far. (Roger eyes her with a startled air of which she is dreamily oblivious.) Yes (throwing her bonnet over her head and slowly sawing the strings over her shoulders), every step must be labelled before I take it. There are three necessary. The second must be marked M-0-N-E-Y — lots of it (throwing her arms wide). A MODERN MAGDALEN Roger — That step leads to a whole platform. And it affords (a trifle sarcastically) a still higher step? Madge (convincingly) — Yes. For with money to lift you, you step into happiness, peace, content. Roger (in grave surprise) — ^So ! (after a pause). Happi- ness, peace, content ! Content — the last round of the ladder. There's no place for love then. Madge (frowning) — Love! (with disgust). Love isn't a thing by which to climb. It's a pitfall. Roger (after a long-drawn whistle) — By the shade of Sarah Ann ! Madge (flaring up) — Sarah Ann! Roger— It seems to me I've heard Sarah make the same deep reflection. Madge (hotly) — I'm not so dumb, Mr. Fairfax, that I can't have a few ideas of my owoi ! I've seen several people in love, and they were anything but happy. Why, they actually suffered ! Roger (rising wearily, with a sigh) — Not from love. Madge (severely) — Those who are supposed to know called it love, and each^ was acknowledged to be a very bad case. Roger — It must have been. But the suffering came from distmst and jealousy, no doubt, and these are elements of passion, not of love. Love knows no jealousy nor distrust, no suspicion nor fear. Passion breeds them all. Passion destroys. Love perfects. The difference between them is as distinct as that between day and night. God alone knows why the most of us need pass through the darkness of pas- sion to be able to recognize the purifying light of love. But only then do we learn that passion in its hcnt disguise is as like unto love as the moonlight to the sunlight. Ah, Madge ! life minus the knowledge of love is death. Without love ambition leads to nothing and labor is a curse. Love is the balance-wheel of the world ! INIadge (half-heartedly) — I envy you the discovery. Roger (wistfully) — And I wish you might profit by my experience, for like most far-reaching discoveries it entailed suffering. This I would spare you, Madge (leaning tenderly toward the slightly drooping ligure with head bowed de- jectedly) — spare you because you are to me — (controlling himself with effort) — what you always will be — (forcing a smile) — a child. You know it hard to think of suffering coming tO' a child. Madge (rising with mock hauteur) — Child! Sir, you of- fend the dignity of seventeen summers ! Roger (bowing low) — A pai'donable offense from one whose hair is turning evidence of the frosts of forty winters. Aunt Marthy (from within) — Land alive! I've got to go myself, an' I'd like to take a gun. Roger (astonished) — Aunt Marthy on the warpath! Aunt Marthy appears on. the porch, her sunbonnet in one hand, in the other a long-handled feather duster. Her cheeks are flaming, one showing up a generous daub of flour. Madge (to Roger) — With feathers and paint at that \ Roger (going toward Aunt Marthy) — May I follow you on the trail? I could carry the gun. Aunt Marthy (putting on her sunbonnet crookedly) — Eh? Oh ! Roger ! I'm mighty glad ye're back. I reckon I'll need ye. ( Coming down the steps, she raises the duster : run- ning her hand along the handle, she touches the feathers.) Land alive ! I opined I bed my sunshade. 10 A MODERN MAGDALEN Roger— I couldn't understand why you were starting off in such high feather. , .^ ^ ^ ^ wk Madge (running laughingly to take the duster) — \\ here is the sunshade? , ,, , ^ ^, Aunt Marthv (testily) — In the umbreller rack, whar the duster hedn't ought to've ben. (To Roger, as Madge goes) — 'Tain't any wonder I'm driv clean outen my sense.s. It's Eph Peltei- agin. Roger — What's Eph up to now? Aunt Marthy (crosslv~> — T'p to some shade tree asleep, I reckon. Samniy Green jes' brung word thet the cows air in the corn in the bottom-land. Roger Tgoing for his hat) — Why don't you shoot hira. Aunt^Marthy? Nobody would ever miss him — he's so nearly nothing. , ^^ . Aunt Marthv (with utter contempt) — >.othin ! lies worse than nothin'. He's jes' the little end o' nothin' with the pith knocked out. Madge appears with the sunshade — a big buff one, with a bright green lining. Roger (returning slowly and twirling his hat) — It would be useless to take a gun. then, if we couldn't get at the pith of the matter. Madge (midway of the steps) — Whither are you bound, Sir Knight? Roger (taking the sunshade from Madge) — To the bottom land after the cows, fair ma'd. Coming with us? jSfadge (fxo'ug to the hammock)— No, thank you. It's a good mile down there. Aunt Marthy and Roger go off !>. Aunt Marthy (calling back) — Don't fergit to pick the strawberries fer dinner I ^ladge (in the hammock, unmindful in her musing) — Without love labor is a curse. (Pause.) I suppose that's the reason I don't like work. (Pause.) P>ut I'm sure no' amount of love would make me like it. (Pause.) Without love ambition leads to nothing. Ambition often leads to fame. I wonder if all famous. people had to be in love? But Miss Magdalen says fame's empty. So ambition leads +o- nothing with or without love. (Frowns and sighs.) Well, this world's a queer place! There's something wrong some- where, that's sure. The galloping of horses is heard in the near distance. As the sound grows clearer there is a gradual slackening of speed, v.'hich comes to a full stop close b}'. The roughriders — Dick Speedwell, Texas Harding and Ca.ietan Cardenas — are without. They are all in 'United States calvary uniform. Dick and Texas dismount. Dick (without) — Backin' out. Cadge? Cardenas (same) — We've struck the wrong place again, I tell you. Texas (same) — 'Tain't ef the kid steered us right. Dick — Come off thet bone-rack. Cadge, an' give it a rest ! (Cardenas dismounts.) Madge, greatly excited, shakes out her skirts, and sets straight a hairpin or two. Texas enters. Texas (in a loud voice) — Ef we've barked up the wrong tree this time, devil take us 1 — (catching sight cf Madge) — Ho-lee, whiskers (backing off precipitately into Dick). Dick (who doesn't see Madge) — What ye dancin' the back- A MODERN MAGDALEN 11 step fer, Tex? (Seeing Madge, he snatches off his hat. making an awkward bow.) Judas priest! (calling) Van up here. Cadge! This is whar you kick the beam! Cardenas (approaching and bowing gracefully) — Ah, we beat the quarters for a lion and discover— a — dear. This is not. then, the residence of Mr. Roger Fairfax? • Madge (risen, drawing herself up coolly) — No. You must have passed his phi'-e ua the way. Mr. Fairfax is visiting here. This is the Stebbins place. Cardenas (winking slylv at Dick) — A more attractive place than his own. I fancy. Miss (interrogatively) Steb- bins. (Madge stiffly bows.) I regret we have no cards. Let me i)resent you. Miss Stebbins. Mr. Speedwell and (looking around for Texas, who approaches gingerly from behind a trep) Mr. Harding. Introduced by (with another graceful liow) their comrade. Cardenas, (with assurance) You've heard of us. no doubt. Madge (brusnuelv) — Xo. If you'll wait I'll go for Mr. Fairfax. He's off about a mile, (putting on her-sunbonnet and starting away). Cardenas — Pardon. It is too far for you to go in the liot sun. You can direct us. But first, «aay I trouble you for a glass of water? Madge ( indifTerentlv) — It's no trouble. The wells .lUst ai-ound the house, (going back). Cardenas (with a meaning look at Dick) — I follow, (going around the house with :Madge). „ ^ , . Texas (starting to follow, to Dick) — S'ngle file. Speedy! Dick (grabbine him by the arm) — With a mile or so be- tween the van and rear, ve moon-eyed jay ! Texas (with n good-natured grin of surprise) — The devil! So we ain't in it. , , , Dick (ruefullv)— Not by a .iugful ! Say. but she s a hum- mev ! {(Joes across to the rustic seat followed by Texas.) Texas (knowingly) — Old Kodge hain't coolin' his heels grubbin' up snails. ^ , ^,„ , Dick (sitting)— Not on yer bronch ! An' I II lay ye a fiver this trig little stepper's what steered him off the study o boay-constrictors. t^ ^ tmi Texas (taking the bench)— That cogs the dice. But 111 throw ye. the boavs hain't through studyin' him. Loleety Juarez's mate ain't here dauglin' fer nothin'. . ^ ^ , Dick ( reflectively )— An' whar Cadge Cardenas is Leety s goin' to be. ^ _ . q>xas — Bodge ha'n't never jroin' so far ez to git wrapped up in Leety. (grinning). He ain't pinin' fer a death hug. Dick ^-loomUv)— Bodge's on to her habits, s^ure. But Cadge is smoother in the long run. an' he am't fergittin to count the times Bodge's smn'=hed up some o' his games. Texas (siehing deeply)— It beats me w4iy Bodge s let im go out o' his clutches. ^ ,^ ,^ , .„ Dick (interrupting heavily)— Bodge wouldn t never kill nothin' ef he could help it. But he's off his reckonin when he don't shuffle Cadge off. Say. Tex. ef the yelier-.iack er the yeller flag don't git Cadge, damme ef I woulda t gamble he 11 give Bodge the death squeeze yit. . .,, ^- Texas (fiercelv) — Kf he does (rising) you an me 11 try the same squeeze on him. (Seeing Madge and Cardenas ap- proaching from back)^ — Come out o' the vapors . Dick (rising nonchalantly)— We're dry. Cadge. How s the well? 12 A MODERN MAGDALEN Cardenas (looking at Madge) — Cool, sparkling, refreshing. Madge crosses to the rustic bench, followed by Cardenas. Dick (drily, as Cardenas passes him) — Intoxicatin'. Cardenas (smiling) — A hit I (Louder) — Say. pards, I don't feel equal to that mile. I'll trust you to round up Fairfax (taking the rustic seat and smiling at Madge) in the corn- field, (laughing). Dick (lightly)- — Yep. I reckon we can manage 'im with- out the coil, eii, Tex? (bowing to Madge). Directions, Miss Stebbins. Madge (graciou.sIy) — From the well you'll see the orchard. (A short reflective pause.) Go the length of it. Take the lane to^ the right, down that to the woods. Follow the wagon-track and it'll lead you to the field. Dick — Thanks. Madge — You'll probably meet Mr. Fairfax. Dick (bowing, then as^de to Texas) — We've got to stir our stumps lively. The deer hain't onto the boay's tricks. (They go off behind the house.) Cardenas (with a sinister smile, calling) — Say, boys, ex- plain to Fairfax that this time it's a case of the miss being better than the mile. ♦(To Madge) — Pardon my little joke, but Fairfax will appreciate the pleasantry. So, my friend Fairfax has never told you of his adventurous days on the plains'? Madge (with shining eyes) — No. He rarely ever talks of himself. If you hadn't come I should never have known him for the hero he is. Cardena.s: (complacently, while concealing from Madge a wry smile) — I've sketched him faithfully — as his friends and comrades know him. We hope to see him a hero of world-wide fame before this war with Spain is ended. Madge (rapturously) — If all you've told me is known at headquarters. I don't wonder it was easy to get him a colonel's commission. Cardenas (shrugging his shoulders lightly) — The head men know Fairfax. Madge (damped by a sudden thought) — Maybe he won't take it. Cardenas — If he should refuse (smiling familiarly at Madge) we'll get you to ask him. Madge (surprised) — Me! Cardenas (with soft indolence) — You must have great in- fluence with him. INIadge (laughing lightly) — Mercy, no! Cardenas (confidently) — You want him to be colonel. Madge (emphatically, but absently) — Sure. Then I can work you a banner — "The Fairfax Roughriders." Pretty, isn't it? Cardenas (gallantly) — It will be prettier when your fair hands have finished it. You'll come to camp and present it in person, won't you? Madge (longingly) — Oh, if I only might! Cardenas — Why not? Madge (discontentedly) — I'm not allowed to go any- where. I should never have had a single glimpse of a soldier if you hadn't come. Cardenas (amused) — What's the matter with Fairfax? Madge (poutingly) — Pie won't appear in his regimentals here. A MODERN MAGDALEN 13 Cardenas (with soothing- certainty) — But you're going up to tlie city to see him off. Madge (shal^ing her head in deep dejection) — No. (More miserably.) And I'd just set my heart on doing that. Cardenas (with concern) — Do they Ivnow how badiy you want to go? Madge (in an abused tone) — That doesn't malie any differ- ence. Cardenas (apparently in sympathy) — It's a beastly shame they're so strict with you. But Madge (taking fire) — They've no business tO' be. Some day I'll show them ! Cardenas (in a righteous tone, while looking down to hide a sinister smile) — But really, I can't blame them. Madge (mimicking Cardenas) — No, oh, no. Of course not! (Scornful laugh.) Cardenas (chuckling in secret enjoyment) — ^I suppose (leaning back) they don't allow you (languidly watching her through half-closed lids) a — a — looking-glass. (Madge starts back, regarding him in mute astonishment.) If they did you could see for yourself why they guard you so closely. Madge (gasping with confusion) — You — you — don't mean — cardenas (leaning gracefully forward with a genial smile) — ^But I do mean it. (Again fixing half-closed eyes on her face.) And Fairfax (with apparent amusement) a con- noisseur in feminine beauty, never once whispered it to you. Why (with ardor), you'd take New York by storm! Sancta Maria (slapping his knee), I'd like you to try it. (Madge, intensely moved, leans unconsciously forward, drawn as a bird to a serpent.) Don't you know anyone in the city? Madge (with effort) — No. Cardenas (assuring a boyish enthusiasm)- — Well, I do. I've a cousin there now — Lolita Juarez. Ever heard Fairfax speak of her? Madge (dreamily) — No. Cardenas (with a sardonic smile) — No? I am surprised. Well. I'll get her to ask you up. Madge (aroused) — But — Cardenas (as if vowing to himself) — And we'll see that you go. (An indistinct murmur of voices is heard.) Now (rising), not a word to anybody yet. Promise! Mad<>e (breathlessly) — I promise. Cardenas (hurriedly) — I'll write. Madge (going toward the house) — No, oh, no! Cardenas chuckles softly. Roger, Dick and Texas enter at hack. Dick (laughing) — Swab yer sporge over thet. old boy! Mado-" (to r^rriorifis 09 s^a carelessly swings her bonnet) — I told you they'd meet him. Roger (cooly. aftPi- a sharp look at Madge, without offering his hand) — Howdy, Cardenas ! Still fond of plan- ning surprises. Cardenas (looking after Madee, wlio slowly goes toward the house) — And of carrying them rut. Roger — Miss Stebbins ! (Madge turns and stops.) Your aunt stopped at a neighbor's. ' She sent word that you shouldn't forget to pick the sti-awli'^vries. (Madge goes slowly into the house.) You (to ('ptrdenas. whose eyes f'^llow Madge) are (quietly and with double meaning) after me. 14 A MODERN MAGDALEN Cardenas (with a suave smile) — And your follower is rewarded by tinding not only you but another — Koger (cooly) — And a rarer gem. Cardenas (pointedly, but still suavely) — So rare — that she vanishes— s/oK/i/ — when you appear. When did you add alchemy to the list of your attainments V Roger (cooly) — Can't you remember? I think about the time I met you. Your magic puv^'er seems to be on the increase, doesn't if? when it brings you to me in vour present capacity ? Cardenas (still suavely) — As bearer of a colonels com- mission. Why nof^ Koger (with a short laugh) — When you come to enroll yourself under my banner, alchemy must have been at work, indeed. Cardenas (easily) — Yes. ICs an acknowledged fact that love will work wonders, and in love for my country I'm will- ing to forget any past differences between us. Roger (contemptuously, regarding Cardenas steadily) — Kind of vou. Hut why weren't you made colonel instead of captain? With your zeal and your intimate knowledge of Cuba, you might make a better leader than a follower. Cardenas (pleasantly earnest) — No. I can better aid my country by securing for her service a leader to whose military elticiencv Wesc I'oint can testify, and for whose unfailing bravery"^ I can vouch, (with assumed humility). Texas (grinning) — That ain't no lie I Dick (Vvith a snort of surprise) — Good fer you. Cadge! (To Roger.) Don't fergit he's only trumpeter fer yer friends and comrades. Cardenas (presenting the credentials) — Will you accept the commission? (bending his head). Roger (slowly, with a steady gaze on Cardenas) — As from my friends and comrades, yes. And I heartily thank them for the honor shown me. Carder.as bows. Dick and Texas — Three cheers fer the Fairfax Rough- riders I Hip. hip, hurrah ! Card-^nas (with a significant smile) — We hope to make the name of Fairfax immortal, (moving off). See you in camp — Madge appears in the doorway, seen by Cardenas only. He covertly acknowledges her presence. Roger — 'Day after tomorrow, (giving his hands to Dick and Texas). Cardenas goes off R. with a smile to Madge, who waves farewell and disappears. Texas — ^It's a dead shot we'll be winners under yon, Rodge. Dick — And we'll tramp to glory under your lead. Colonel Bronchbuster. Roger (with tender gravity) — I hope I'll lead you safely home. Well, good-by, pards I Sorry you can't stay longer. (Th^v all move off R. together.) Dick — We don't hanker after leg-bail, but (with military stiffness) duty calls — so— (going off) They sing without From "The Roughriders" :* The Roughriders — Music by Arturo Buzzireccia. Words by Helena Clendenen. Published by John Church Co. A MODERN MAGDALEN 15 We'll hie. hie, hie for the ranks, nor shrink when the bugle sounds. We'll hie, then hie, hie for the camping-grounds. Then — how gladly we shall greet the day when orders come to go, How proudly we shall march away to meet the waiting foe, (The curtain begins to fall slowly.) And on we'll bear Old Glory high thro' raining shot and shell, Spurred by one aim — to serve our country well : The horses gallop away. CURTAIN. ACT I. Scene II — ^The day following. The sitting-room of the farmhouse. On the left side, in the immediate foreground, a wide fireplace, its mouth filled with ferns growing m a green- pa. ..ita box. (jn tne mantelboard, exactly iu the center a large glass bell covering a des.gn in wax flowers. On each side, primly placed, candies in an antique lustre of wrought iron. Over the mantel an engraving in a gilt frame hung with cord and tassel. Between the fireplace and a door a few feet bevond, an old caken settle, which serves also for a wood-box. The door, excepting the frame at top. is concealed by ugly red canton flannel curtains hanging from a pole. Behind them, fastened to the door, is a canvas presenting General Washington in his regimentals. A few feet beyond this door is another, in use. Between the doors a haircloth chair is placed stiffly against the wall. In the left corner of the room stands an old clock, its face distinctly visible. In the back wall, left of center, a large bay-window with a bench running the entire length of the curve. From this bench it is easy to step onto the terrace on a level with it. The windows are curtained in white Swiss. Through the windows is a view of treeless yard and a wide sweep of sea. At right of the bay is a round covered table with a hair- cloth ''hair each side of it. all flat against the wall. On the table, with olhin' ImkiKs. a small Bible. Over the table a large looking<;i;is,s. it's length equaling the width of the mantelboard space. In front of the table a tall hassock covered with worsted work. I« the right v.all, near the corner is a door. Another, wide, in the foreground, opens into the hall. Between these doors, against the wall, is a large hair- cloth sofa v/ith gingham-covered pillows primly placed. A tali has-sock covered with worsted woi'k is ' in front of it. In p;vh of the available wall sDaces is bung with cord and tassel a gotnl-sized steel engriM'lng in a gilt frame. It is just past sunset, and tlr.> windows are red in the afterglow. ^Magdalen and Madge enter door at L.. Magdalen carry- ing a book containing as a bookmark a stiletto with "a 16 A MODERN MAGDALEN beautifully wrought heft which shows in full above the book s eage. Madge — A'o, Miss MagdaJen, there isn't a single room changed. (Magdalen looks critically about.) This is a shade better than the parlor, but if it isn't all funereal I don t know what you'd call it. Magdalen (smiling) — Things do look rather mournful. I wish Aunt Marthy wouldn't allow her furniture and walls to be so taken up with each other. It's an injury to both. Madge — Sarah Ann's house is just the same, isn't it? Magdalen — Yes. You know I've been there many sum- mers, and nothing is ever changed. I've often wondered how they manage after cleaning to find the exact place for everything. Madge (dryly) — Perhaps they chalk the locations. Magdalen (laughing) — Thank you. Madge — Can you wonder that I dread winter and live outdoors all summer'? Magdalen — This room isn't so bad, Madge. That win- dow-space lightens its misery, and the fireplace helps tone up things in winter, doesn't if? Madge — If you look straight into the fire and dream. Magdalen (disinterestedly) — Poor dear (going to lay her book on the mantelboard) ! Madge — I used to live in hope that time might work changes, but there's no time here for them. Roger enters at upper R. door. Roger — There shouldn't be any time in here for anything. You're losing the beauty of a perfect evening. Magdalen — We'll appreciate it the more by contrast, Roger. We're just finishing a colorless tour of inspection, I don't find a thing changed and I've been away two years. Roger— I should think you'd appreciate unchangeableness as an attractive quality. It's so rare nowadays. Magdalen — Unchanging ugliness is unpardonable. There isn't a thing here to indicate the beautiful in Aunt Marthy's nature. On every side . dullness and severity — (attracted by the red curtains) — no! can it be true, or do I dream that that grim front has lost its wooden eye? Madge — By accident. No, those curtains are no dream. Roger — And it took a hundred years to effect this change. Made, too, through the move of a dead member. After a century of suspense Washington got on the tender- hooks and came down hard for a change. He dislocated his frame, and (drawing aside the curtains) he's stretched out here for repairs. Magdalen — How irreverent — in a colonel, too ! Roger — That's so (saluting) ! Beg your pardon. Gen- eral ! Madge (in an amused tone) — Great idea of Aunt Marthy's stretching the canvas in here. Magdalen — Yes. A real artistic effect might be had out of it." Roger (drawing the curtain to) — Oh, well ! Any sort of curtain may lend both dignity and mystery to an exhibi- tion. Sarah Ann (without) — Maggie! Madge draws in her breath, and her eyes snap with fury. Roger laughs. A MODERN MAGDALEN - 17 Sarah Ann (with closer shrillness) — Maggie ! I shan't call ye agin ! Madge — (ilad to hear it. Magdalen (smoothly, as she goes toward the sofa) — You might at least answer. Madge. Madge — l!ut i won't. It's bad enough to have Maggie hurled at you, let alone being shrieked at all over the house in that vulgar fashion. Roger — 'Tis sort of rough on you. But don't you think if you went quietly and ignored the attempts to enrage you. you'd be the gainer? Madge (sullenly, as she goes to the window) — You can't ignore a — a — vixen. Roger (to Magdalen, as he goes to the table and picks up a book at random) — I've tried to convince Madge that she loses much (with a dry smile) in losing her temper (humorously regarding the "apparently inattentive figure), and that the only way to balk Sarah Ann is through self- control. Madge (pointedly, without turning) — People without tem- pers don't know anything about self-control. Roger (good humoredly) — Truly. So it takes a woman to understand it. Magdalen (somewhat absently, a glance of disdain fixed upon Madge) — By the way. Roger — Madge (interrupting with a laugh) — Oh. do come, look at Aunt Marthy. She does look so funny. (Magdalen frowns, and an exclamation of annoyance' escapes her.) Yes (nod- ding) I'm coming. (On her way to door at L.) Colonel Fairfax, are you going to church with Aunt Marthy to- night? Roger — I am. Mudge (at the door) — Then I'll go ahead to tell them if the preacher isn't there they can call on you. (Goes out.) Magdalen (with disgust) — Aunt Marthy has spoiled her completely. She's becoming too insolent to tolerate. Roger (quietly) — Slie didn't intend insolence. You do not understand her. (Magdalen's lip curls.) I think your presence here will do her good, (laying respectful hands oa one of the chairs near the table and addressing the wall). ^Yith your permission, for just five minutes, (bringing tlie chair down). Magdalen (laughing) — Maybe the chair won't stand for the separation. Roger — Isn't it quite stable? (sitting cautiously, after a short test of its strength). I'm not looking for any hair- breadth escapes (sitting comfortably). All right. To return to Madge. (Magdalen's face darkens.) She will profit by your companionship. You'll be here all siim- me'r. won't you? Masfdalen (siivm-ised) — Why, no! I wrote you — Oh! my last letter didn't reach you. I gave up traveling for the same reason you did — in the hope of being of some use to my country. I shall join the Red Cross workers. Roger (with friendly admiration) — That's like you, Mag- dalen. It's stuDid of me not to have guessed it, when I know so well what your work has been for the last fifteen years. Will you go to Cuba? Magdalen — I shall be in Cuba perhaps as soon as you will. Roger — So there's a possibility of our meeting there. I'm glad we needn't say farewell, then. I confess I dread 18 A MODERN MAGDALEN the parting with Aunt Marthy, dear soul ! — and with Madge (with a retrospective smile) But Madge doesn't realize the full meaning of the war. She looks at its poetic side only. Magdalen (coldly)— She's old enough to begin to take a hold on realities. Roger — A knowledge of the practical isn't gaged by any set number of years, is it V Besides, who ever wants the years to bring a time when reality refuses to show up a poetic side? Don't you still enjoy revelling in a maze of myth and fancy? Magdalen (with a slightly constrained smile) — I'm not too Old, am I ? Roaer (laughingly) — I score my point. If you were, I shouldn't dare confess I've great faith in the mystical. Here (taking a scarf-pin from beneath the lapel of his coat) is a proof of it. Will you handle it reverently? (handing it to lier. Magdalen (laughing) — I'll try to. (examining it). How bizarre it is I Roger — Yes. I got it in the Orient, along with an affidavit that it belonged to — to — (with mock seriousness) — Mohammed. He wore it, I believe, to — to — fasten his — chest-protector. The stone possesses superhuman power. If the owner ever goes knowingly into danger and loans it — the stone, not the danger — to a friend going the same way — it — the stone — will insure safety to both. (Mag- dalen looks up with a questioning smile. Yes : I loan it to you. Magdalen (radiant) — What an honor! (Roger laughs.) But, if I should lose it I Roger (in a sepulchral tone) — Then we are in- the find- er's power, be he friend or foe. Magdalen (affecting a shudder) — I begin to shrink from the responsibility. 1 wish I might give you something to insure i/our safcti/, anyway. Rut I've nothing, (rising with a sudden thought). I'm not so sure, (going to the book left on the mantelboard, and taking out the dagger). Here — (crossing to meet Roger) — better than your pin, and far more suited to the purpose, this, (handing it to him). I'm sorry it isn't charmed, but it's a dear treasure. I got it on the Rialto of Shylock. who was back on a, vacation. Roger — That ought to insure me a pound of flesh, any- way. Magdalen — Let us hope army service won't put you in the need of it. I shall not see you tomorrow (moving away), so it's an revoir in Cuba. Roger (going to open the door at L.) — I hope so, Then keep a brave heart, my daughter, for we part under the protection of Mohammed. Madge appears on the terrace at the open window as Roger bends over Magdalen's hand, on which he presses a slightly lingering kiss. Magdalen leans toward Roger in an attitude full of de- votion, struggling against repression. Madge's expression reveals the awakening of a passion surprised. She disappears as the door closes behind Mag- dalen, x\unt Marthy enters the upper R. door, advancing to the table. She has been a witness of the parting. Aunt Marthy (as Roger turns from the door) — I thought Madge was in here. Roger — No ; do you want her ? A MODERN MAGDALEN 19 Aunt Marthy — Mebbe you can help me. (stopping at the chair removed by Roger, he laughingly hastens to replace Wc. 1 V'^f"*^ ^^ (seacing herself at L. of table) fer the iJible. bairey Ann's ben a-disputin" with me. 1 want to Imd the place whar the "wages of sin'" — (the Bible in her hands) — Roger (taking the book from her)— You can't find any such place here, Aunt Marthy. You're in a province gov- erned by peace and— love. Lefs talk about that Aunt Marthy (sighing in pleased anticipation) — Well, Roger, I see it a-comin' (Roger is surprised), an' yit I'm kmd a-took back, fer I thought ez mebbe goin' to war would keep ye from namin' it to 'er. Roger — I haven't spoken to her. Aunt Marthy — Ye hain't ! Roger — No ; for I am not sure she loves me. If she does she isn t yet aware of it. (smiling). Aunt Marthy (dryly)— She's hed severeal years to find it out in. Roger (a trifle absently) — I've written her Aunt Marthy (amazed)— Written : Land alive! Ef you've turned thet big a coward, how 're ye ever goin' to face the Roger— The letter is for you to keep (running the dagger down the open Bible), to be given to her only in the evfnt ?vniT/ .'^''T^'- IV ''VI T^^P'«^^^ ^^'hy my entii-e propeity s vvilled to her. Should I return (closing the book with the dagger m it) no pen shall tell her the jovous message sS long treasured in my heart, (laying the book on the table) i^unt Marthy do y<,u think there's any hope for mev ^ r^Arl J/«'-tJiy— She's the only one thet cL set ve right on thet, Roger, boy. But she ought to favor ye. She kuovvs matrl-ei-'ye ""^ ^'' ^^^ ^^"' "'^"'^ "^^^^ tlie proper Roger (gratefully)—.! was sure of you, Aunt Marthv quite sure, (laying his hand on hers lying on the table I wish I were as sure of her (Aunt Marthy smiles) and she Madge? '"'^ ^^ *''''^^^' ^^ ''"'■ ^^" ^^^^'t' dear'wfnsotol Aunt Marthy (starting)— Eh ? Roger (Slightly dazed) — Well'? /T>^"°*^ Marthy (gasping)— Madge ! Madge Stebblns (Roger bows, still bewildered) Roger! Roger Fafrfax' an ffd fdoT! ^ military salute). There's no fool like Roger (politely)— I'm sorry if you were ^Zr~Z?';^'>"l hoTe lo'" '""' '""^^'^ """' "P '"- Aunt Marthy— Roger Fairfax! Roger (saluting) — Here! ^^Aunt Marthy— You dunno an' I dunno who her parents Roger — Where ignorance Is bliss — Aunt Marthy— There ain't no fool bigger'n a man! Anl.TTr^'^^i ^ ™'^"^^ ,^"^ y^" ^''»'<^ there was no fool— h;A ^ Marthy— Bigger'n you. When there's women of birth, women of eddication. women of yer own age womea (pausing for want of breath)— *= ' ^^^^^ Roger (smiling)— I want but one. Aunt Marthy (sharply)— They're all in one right under yer nose— an' you go an' want Madge. I calkilated wom was smart 'nuflf to remember thet beauty's only skin deep 20 A MODERN MAODALEN But ye hain't. Ye're like all the rest o' yer kind — beauty first, an' beauty last, an' ye never look further ef beauty'll hev ye. (chokingly). Thet wouldn't be so bad — but — Madge — Madge — 'Ifs 'uuff to make yer parents turn in their graves ! Roger (gravely) — Twenty years my own master — Aunt Marthy (sharply) — Ought to've made ye a better ane. (breaking down). Roger! No! No! It mustn't be. (burying her face in her hands). I can"t hev it so! The sound of churchbells comes from a distance. Roger (uneasily) — Maybe a little whjle in church will put a new light on the matter. P>eside.s — (Madge enters L. door, leaving it open). Come! (bending kindly toward her) Do not let me go from you with a heart so heavy. Madge (icily)- — If you're going to church, you'd better be starting. Aunt Marthy (rising and hastily drying her eyes) — Ef you hain't a-goln' you'd better go up an* stay with Mag- dalen an' learn to pattern after her. (goes out L. door). Roger — Shall I see you when I come from church V Madge (coldly indifferent) — I'm sure I can't say. Roger — You'll be up in the morning to see me off? Madge (colder, if possible) — If I'm not too sleepy. You'd better say good-by now. Rosier (taking the extended hand) — You'll write me? Madge — Most likely, (not looking at him). Good-by and good luck to you. Roger (deeply pained) — I thank you for your good wishes. I (with quiet emphasis) shall remember them often. Good- by ! (Madge is oblivious of the love and longing in his eyes as iie turns sadly away. lie goes off lower R. door.) Madge (as the door closes, holding her hand disdainfully in front of her) — You didn't get kissed! Ifs too bad you couldn't have helped me begin to pattern after Magdalen. She (going to the sofa and sitting) loves him — Roger. I can't "pattern after her (chokingly). She's so calm, so cool — and that's what he likes, (despondently). Love knows no 'distrust, no jealousy, no fear. Magdalen's too cold to knew, so she loves him. lie understands her. He loves her. He could never understand how I — I — hate — hate — her. (burying her face in the pillows and sobbing). €ardenas appears at the open window, comes through and goes softly to the sofa. Oardenas (bending over Madge)— Senorita mia ! Madge (starting up) — You! Cardenas — Forgive me ! Your sobbing brought mp through the window. I cannot tell you how great is my distress to find you in tears. • Madge (with dignity) — My tears of anger need'nt dis- tress you. Cardenas (sitting beside her and laying his hat on the hassock) — Ah ! but they do. And they till my heart with fierce anger against the cause, (smiling sarcastically). Not Fairfax, I hope. (Madge does not turn.) He was being taken to task for something as he left the house with a lady— your mother? Madge — My mother is — I have neither father nor mother. I live with my aunt. It was she whom you saw with Mr. — Colonel Fairfax. Cardenas — She will return soon? Madge — Not very. She's gone to church. A MODERN MAGDALEN 21 Cardenas (with a satisfied smile) — How disappointing! Madge (turning quiclily) — You wish to see her! Cardenas — It seems so. I bring a letter (searching for it) addressed to Mrs. Stebbins — j'our mother, 1 supposed. It is from my cousin — Lolita Juarez — (puiling out several letters) — of whom I spoke yesterday. 1 lold her of you when I got back to New York, ana the letter is the result. Ah ! (finding it) as ic is tva open one, you may as well read it. Cardenas watches her furtively as she reads. Madge (with delight) — Oh! do you know what she asks? Cardenas (nodding pleasantly) — That your aunt will let you vis.t her soon. Madge (excitedly) — Now, right away I Cardenas (with a surprised air) — Xo ! Madge — Listen! (looking for the place). Where is it? (reading) "If, my dear madam, you will favor me in this matter, will you let your daughter come up tomorrow with Colonel Fairfax — a very esteemed friend of mine, who will recommend me to you." (looking up). Tomorrow Cardenas — That s tine ! Lita wants to give you the chance of seeing a few more soldiers. Madge (her ti\(x' suudei.ly cluudtd) — Oh! I wish she'd have written ! 1 know 1 ca^it go ! Cardenas (soothingly) — With Fairfax to plead for vou, I'm sure your aunt won't refuse. Madge (frowningly) — He'll not plead for me. Cardenas (raising his eyebrows) — Xot so! Madge (refiecting darkly) — And even if he did, it would do no good. Cardenas (rising and looking at his watch) — Well, it's too bad all round. Lita will be as much disappointed as I am. Madge (slowly and without lifting her head) — You must go now ? Cardenas — If I catch the next boat. Believe me, my eyes and my heart are both begging me to stay — now more than ever since I cannot look forward to seeing you tomorrow. Madge (her attitude unchanged) — You couldn't come again tomorrow ? Cardenas (bending eagerly forward) — Ah, senoi-ita, vou wish it! (drawing himself up reluctantly, but decisively). But no ! my heart cannot lead me. I go to camp tomor- row, (with a sudden thought). Y^ou are not thinking — (pause) — Madge (with slow decision) — That if you could come, I'd let you take me to your cousin. Cardenas (regretfully) — Ah! (pausing) If (uncertainty) I — wired Lita to be at the pier with a carriage, why couldn't you go tonight? Madge (uncertainly, with a quick glance upward) — I don't see why I couldn't. I've some money of my own. The boat leaves? Cardenas — There's one at 8 :30. If you have decided to go — Madge (firmly) — I've decided (rising and flinging the letter on the sofa). I'm going. It won't take me long tO' get ready. But how will you amuse yourself? Cardenas (with a significant smile) — By thinking of you. Madge (ignoring the reply) — The room is bare of enter- tainment. But there's one thing that may interest you — a good painting of Washington. It was given by the artist 22 A MODERN MAGDALEN to my aunt" s grandfather. I think you will find it worth inspection (going off R.). It's behind those curtains. I of Mexico, (picking up the letter). This will be just as R. door). Cardenas (throwing himself back on the sofa with huge enjoyment) — Easier than I thought. You can't have all the beauties, Fairfax. Tlais goes to even up that little affair across the border. And wlien you find your snow- white bird is flown (with a laugla of keen relish), you'll be hit some harder than I was when you lost me the pearl of Mexico, (picking up the letter). This will be just as comfortable (putting it in his pocket) there, (looking con- temptuously around). Bare I Iluh ! 'Twould look better entirely so.' Washington must be a masterpiece, (rising and going toward the curtains). I'll leave you (mimicking Madge) in good company with — the General. As the curtains are flung contemptuously aside, Roger is revealed. Cardenas (falling back with a grasp) — Fairfax! Roger (calmly stepping forth) — Not general yet, only the colonel. A veiy lifelike portrait, no '.■' (cooly surveying him). It is sort of rough on you (going toward the table and out of range of the lookingglass) to expect to look on a man so great and see — Cardenas (in a position so his image is fully reflected in the glass. looking up) — A coward. Roger — Even a room so bare affords you (with a bow and a wave toward the glass) a mirror. Cai-denas (as a dagger flashes from hs sleeve into his har'd) — Which shall never a^ain rpflect your face! Roger (cooly, and as if at random picking up the Bible from rlie table) — No? Cardenas — No. This time, my friend. Cardenas comes off victor, (dandling the instrument). Better drop your book. I remember you flaht well free-handed, amigo Inio. RogPF (calmly running his thumb across the leaf-edges) — The Bible's a pretty good book to have along with you in face of (a slight pause) danger. Cardenas (with an ugly leer) — Of death. I regret that the odds are so mucli on my side. Roger (calmly) — The odds on your's may go to the devil, when the Lord's on my side. Cardenas (with insolent admii-ation) — T never admired you so much before, Rodgie. I'll grant you a momer<: to find a line or two suitable for the' situation, (falling back a little, folding his arms, and holding against his sleeve the dagger which he regards caressingly). Roger (fixing a steady glance on his adversary) — If you wore more familiar with the Bible, you might some time be able to profit by its good goints. I think I can open directlv to a shining example. The place is marked by (the heft firrn'^' in his hand, and dropping the book) a dagger. On gaurd ! Cardenas rushes on Roger. They fight desperately. Roeer, however, rather parrying tlie thrusts than giving anv. Roger, finally gaining advantage, dexterously wounds Cardenas in the fighting hand, hurling the dagger to the floor. Tavdenps falls in a cowardly attitude. Roger (^ooly picking up the fallen dagger and placing it in his hand beside his own) — Huh! Shylock, you at^e A MODERN MAGDALEN 23 great in winning interest. Double the principal in less than an hour (looking down at Cardenas, who has raised himself on one hand). Can't you get up now, Cardenas? Your position isn't graceful, and Miss Stebbins might come in any moment (as he goes to lay the daggers on the mante'lboard, Cardenas rises and staggers into a chair near the table). It's too bad she aroused your memory of the pretty Mexican to make you forget your love for your country and its need of my services. It's my belief you can't deprive it of them, Cardenas. It's to my belief, too, you owe your life. I'd have got rid of you long ago, you know, if I hadn't looked on you as a helpless instrument of Fate. This is the reason, too, I've no fear of you. If it's decreed that I'm to meet my death through you, what's the use of being afraid'? And if it isn't so decreed, there's no need of fear. From past experiences with you, I've great faith that it isn't so decreed, so don't try any further to ''make the name of Fadrfuiv immortal." It will save you trouble. (On his way to the sofa.) Devote your energies to your country, (stopping). You see Fate is in love with me. I met one of my tenants who told me the same- — ■ ahem I — soldier who was looking for me yesterday had returned today. So (again starting for the sofa) I came back expressly to see you. (stopping again and pointing to the curtained doorway). That door leads into my apart- ments, (going to the hassock for Cardenas's hat). Wash- ington always was a genius at holding the key to the situa- tion. He had it as usual. I usad it to cp? i i o 'h' shortest way to the scene of action (c'oi-g toward Ca^-- denas. and handing over the hat). The shortest way out for you is that, (pointing to the window). Cardenas (fully recovered, with an ugly laugh) — And leads to jailing for an attempt on your life. Koger-^I've never before troubled myself to put you out of business, have I ? Now. when my country calls for what defense I can give, I can't afford to stay at home to answer for defending myself. As I told you before, I've no fear of you. Now. go ! -Cardenas (going out with insolent ease) — Adios ! (with a mocking bow, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, his hat raised high). . Roger — Thanks. When I do go that way, it's good-by to you forever. (Cardenas disappears.) I wonder — (pausing in silent I'eflection, as he walks to the window recess, and looks out into the twilight) — Madge enters lower R. door. She is in traveling attire, hat in hand. Madge (nervously, closing the door) — Was I very long? .Roger (turning quietly) — Quite long enough. 'Madge-^You ! Roger— Do I make a poor substitute for Cardenas? Madge (angrily) — "^Tiere is he? And why are you here? Roger — Well — I'm here, because — he has been, and he — isn't here — because I am. Where he is isn't a "question of importance so long as you aren't traveling the same road. Madge (flaring up) — If it's a road I wish to travel, what right have you to interfere? Roger — The right of knowledge to prevail against ignor- ance, if nothing more. Madge (fur-iously, going toward the table) — I'm not so 24 A MODERN MAGDALEN learned as you, of course, but I'm old enough to know my own mind, (slamming down her hat). Roger (quietly) — It's often quite as desirable to know something of other minds. I happen to understand the lan- guage of a mind like Cardenas's. It's foreign to you. so 1 came back to offer myself as interpreter. From appearances Cardenas has asked you to go some place with him. Madge (coming down, with a sarcastic laugh) — You're mistaken. His cousin did the asking, (defiantly). His cousin. Miss Juarez. Roger — Ah, I see ! But the invitation came through Car- denas. The translation of it into literal English is : Will you accompany me down to — well — not down — to Jackson- ville. Madge (bewildered) — Jacksonville! (Going to the sofa.) She wrote from New York. (On her knees, sesft'ching under the pillows and beneath the sofa.) I left the letter here. Roger (with a wry face) — Cardenas perhaps remembered that I'm familiar with his handwriting. (Madge looks up, her face revealing the dawn of truth.) Miss Juarez has hardly had time to get to New York. She honored me yes- terday with a greeting from Jacksonville. (Seeing the truth in its full horror. Madge crouches against the sofa, covering her face.) Don't Madge, don't take it so to heart! I understand it all, and yon know it is safe with me. Madge, staggering to her feet, sways forward, Roger catch- ing her. Madge (hoarsely, as she pushes him away with all her strength) — Don't touch me ! I — you — you hate me ! Roger (deeply pained) — Hate you ! ^Yhen I came back to protect you! (Madge laughs hysterically.) Hate you! When I am thanking God that I came in time ! Madge (covering her eyes in agony) — Ah, God! — (with a sneering laugh). Roger (his hand tenderly caressing the bowed head) — When I am thanking God that I alone know. Madge (wrenching herself away from him) — And because you know (her face set) to my dying day I shall hate you ! CURTAIN. Act II. A MODERN MAGDALEN 27 ACT II. In the mountains of Cuba, Early July. Scene I — On the Juarez plantation. The court of a mag- niticent old house. Moorish in architecture. Around the pillars of the arcade and far up on the walls chnibins roses run rampant. Beneath the arcade the walk IS tiaaged with stone, the greensward extending but a foot or two from the pillars, when the flagging begins again, ex- tending over the entire court. In the central background is a fountain with water play- ing over the sculptured centerpiece. Around the fountain is a stone bench. It is lower than the coping, which forms a back for the seat. Near the fountain's edge to the left is a movable flag covering a dung-eon. In the corners of the court and at right and left in the foreground — all within the arcade— are quaint benches of stone. Near the seat at the left, in the foreground, iust at the edge of the arcade, is a pretty lacquered table and a house chair. On the table is a tray with glasses and a carafe of wine. On the seat are a mandolin and a guitar, and over one end of It a silk shawl trails to the floor. In each of the three walls beneath the vivf-ade is a door between two narrow windows screened with ornamental grating. In each wall of the upper story is a window, the iron grating of which is in the form of an oriole. It is twilight. Cardenas enters R. door. He is in regimental dress. After a sweeping glance about he looks up to the window in the background. /T^^ilVt^^"?.^ (falling)— Lita ! (After a short pause)— Lita ! (1 eltmg the closed blinds vvith a rose which he has unfeel- ingly wrenched from a vine.) The windows are drawn slowly open. Lolita appears, kneeling on the window bench. She is in picturesque evening costume, not lacking mantilla and fan Lolita (smiling languidly down) — Present, capitan ! Cardenas (gustily, after an appreciative glance) — Hola ' Hurry down and let's have a look at you. Loliti\ (her languor untempered) — I hasten, sen6r capitan. (She slowly disappears, and the windows are as slowly pushed to.) Cardenas (after opening C. door and peering a few seconds up and down the passageway) — Hola, there, boy.' Has Doctor Otero been here? Boyish Voice — No. senor. 28 A MODERN MAGDALEN Cardenas — Conduct him here when he comes. Boyish Voice — Yes, senor. Cardenas (going toward fountain)— So, , the good (sneer- ingly> doctor's not here yet. (Ruminating, his foot on the bench, his back to L. door.) Well, Diego Otero, I'm beginning to distrust you. (shaking his head convincingly). I must use you to-night, but this mission fulfilled will, I'm pretty sure, end (with a sardonic grin) your life mission. If you're found dead (with fiendish triumph), but you won't be found dead. The mountains and our little secret cavern will never tell what they hold, (chuckling). The Lord is now decidedly on my side. Colonel Roger. Else why did he station a Spanish camp so close to our hidden cave? And why did he have an underground passage connect that cave with the old wine-cellars here? (Lolita noiselessly enters the L. door and slides into a graceful positioni on the stone bench near.) I'll bet (shaking with suppressed laugliter) if 1 (l.ita sweeps her fingers lightly over the guitar strings). Lolita (with smiling slowness) — Not another chijl, Tano? Cardenas (dofling h s hat, after a short pause indicative of surprise)- — Only slight. But I don't want another. That's why I'm here after Otero. But (gallantly, after a critical survey of Lolita) I hardly think I'll need him after seeing you. You'd send the blood coursing through the veins of a mummy. Lolita (laughing softly) — My costume pleases you? Cardenas (approaching)— Some, since I'd begun to think I'd never again see you in anything but those devilish Red Cross gowns. Say, if your poor, sick soldiers could see you now they'd think — — Lolita (demurely, toying with her fan) — Would they? Cardenas — No, by gad ! they wouldn't. They'd lose their brains. Lolita (watching him through half-veiled eyes) — I re.1oice in your safety. Cardenas — Y'es, custom's hardened me. (reflectively). I think, Lita mia, you'd best keep out of Fairfax's sight when gowned a la Red Cross. Lolita (amused) — You don't rate my natural attractions very high. Cardenas — ^If others have natural attractions as fair, (sit- ting in the chair). Lolita (somewhat reflectively) — I like competition. Cardenas (with a retrospective smile) — If you could see your rival ! Your running Lolita (nonchalantly) — Wouldn't be very exciting- if I should start handicapped. Cardenas^ — Don't be too certain. Her style of beauty Lolita (with curling lip) — ^Isn't much. Cardenas (surprised) — Y^ou've seen her? Lolita — Why not? Cardenas — Where ? • Lolita — Where did you see Iier? Cardenas (rising, with assumed indifference) — In the States. Lolita — In the States only? (Cardenas nods.) Well. I go you several better. I saw her in Tampa, introduced my- self in Santiago (Cardenas with difiiculty suppresses his astonishment) and have often (yawning behind her fan) talked with her — here. A MODERN MAGDALEN 29 Cardenas (at C. his eyes glittering) — Here! Impossible I (Aside) — Madge Stebbins here I Lolita (nonchalantly) — The Red Cross League may make more than one thing possible, and a woman so much in love with Roger Fairfax as she is wouldn't lose any time in em- bracing — the possibilities. Cardenas — It can't be the same. (Lita lifts her eyebrows.) Why haven't I seen her? Lolita — She's on the sick list. Cardenas — Her name V Lolita (with rriumphant enjoyment) — You never told me. And I never asked. She's No. 17 of the hospital corps. To me her only mark of distinction is that odd pin of Roger's. Cardenas (somewhat absently) — A strong point in her favor. Lolita (coolly) — It might be used to scratch her ofif the list. Cardenas (roused from reflection) — Well, my good wishes go with you. Ihit I fear you'll never become Mts. Roger Fairfax, even though you do seem to be making a good run- ning in your pi-esent role of Lady Bountiful. (Creatly amused.) How much longer do you think your wine-cellar and larder will stand the strain? Lolita (calmly) — They'll answer to my demands as long as there's gold to make them speak. (.^ardenas (grinning) — I ran across Speedy out here tend- ing to the loading of a couple of mules. Aie the supplies intended for distribution in your hospital camp here, for the camp down the mountain, or for the S'pecial tent of Colonel l-'airfax? By the way (with open curiosity), has he ever come up to thank you in person ? Lolita looks ahead, eyes and lips touched with a dreamy smile. Otero enters C. door, closing it behind him. Lolita (turning with languorous grace) — .Just in time. Doctor. My cousin is burning up with (pause) fever (ris- ing), and lias just had a chill. (To Cardenas,, as she goes off L.) — Come again to-morrow, Tano. I hope you may have entirely recovered. (To Otero) — I leave him to your tender mercies. Doctor. Cardenas — One moment, Lita ! Let no one but a messen- ger be admitted to the court. Lolita— Until? Cardenas — lentil I say it is free. Lolita (laughing and curtesyin^^) — Yes, my lord! Cardenas (going to the bench) — I'm out of medicine, Otero. Lolita goes out L., closing the door. Otero (following Cardenas, h's fa-ce dark) — So am I — en- tirely out of the gold cure. (Cardenas's eyes alone betray dista.'^te for the tui-n thp conv'eek? (pausing). 34 A MODERN MAGDALEN Roger (smiling) — Yes. And that camp duties bar me from doing the social up in style. My misfortune (bowingj, not my fault, (looking admiringly about). I always thought you good at description, but (shaKing his head slowiy) — Loiita — Don't things come up to my description of them? Koger — from what I've seen your descriptions were mild. This court is idyllic (going closer to the fountain). The oracular fountain, 1 suppose. Loiita (laughiujg and sitting on the bench, directly facing the audience) — les. Roger — It looks peaceful and angelic enough now. Loiita — Tradition has it that the most terrible warnings have issued from it at just such times. Roger (moving back) — Aren't you afraid to be so close? My flesh creeps. How's my hair? Does it speak quite distinctly? The fountain, I mean. Loiita (laughingly) — It speaketh not. Its warning is r wail or a moan. Koger (Sitting beside her) — And you say it means — Loiita (oracularly)— Disaster to all who hear it. Roger — By tlie beard of the prophet I And I'd been hop- ing there'd be an exhibition for my special benefit. When were you last favored? Loiita — Two years ago. Just before two of tlie house servants were killed by lightning. I was away in the States, (nervotisly). Oh I (moving nearer to Roger) What was that? Roger — I heard nothing. (Loiita shudders.) You've been so much among the sick that you"re oppressed with nervous fancies. You must — Loiita (in great distress) — There it is again! (rising in affright, one arm almost about Roger's neck as she leans on his shoulder) There! Oh! (sinking down and hiding her face against Roger's arm) Don't you hear it? Roger (listening) — No. Nor did you (gently raising her face) liear any warning my dear girl. See here! (turning so as to face her squarely and increase the distance between them). If the fountain produces the noise you describe there's good cause for it. and I'd like nothing better than a chance to investigate it. Loiita (shuddering) — I don't want you ever to have the cliance. (laughing nervously). I'm giving you a poor wel- come — on your first visit, too. It's fortunate La Rosa is still here. I'erhaps she may be more successftil in enter- taining you. (with sorrowful reflection) I wonder if you would ever have come if she hadn't been here. Rogpr (smiling) — La Rosa's been here, hasn't she. ever since the invasion of Santiago was begun? How fortunate she is in having you for a friend? Loiita (meaningly) — She realizes and appreciates it. Odd, isn't it? Roger— ( )dd ! Loiita — Yes. She didn't seek my friendship. I offered it. (mournfully). You sought my regard. I gave and still give it. and to you (looking ahead with sad eyes) it is valueless. Roger — In what way have I shown that I so hold it? Loiita (with a catch in her voice) — In avoiding me. Rosrer (with a quiet smile) — Tonight? Loiita — Tonight you are liere at my bidding, (dropping her head pathetically). There was a time when you didn^t wait for that, (raising her head despairingly). What have you've been here quite a week (pausing) ? A MODERN MAGDALEN 35 wait for that (raising tier tiead despairingly). What have 1 done that you should be so changed? Roger (deprecatingly) — I assure you — Lolita (with a remuiiscent expression) — In appearance you are the same man of three years ago — a man known to his friends to be above fear and above reproach. Roger (quietly) — ^And the appearance is deceiving? Lolita (turning passionately) — Not so, I pray, but that your actions are ; that they were true in those days in Mexico when you taught me my first lesson in love — Roger (moving back distressed) — Lita ! Without, mandolins and guitars play softly from "The Intermezzo." Lolita (softly, dreamily, with eyes fixed straight ahead) — When I learned to listen hourly for your footsteps that I knew better than the beating 'of my own lieart ; when I found that day was bright only with the light from your eyes ; that night was endurable only when its coming had been ushered in with the music of your voice — Roger (rising in great distress) — Lita! Lolita — Then — when it was clear to me that life meant love, and you had given me life (brokenly), your mission ended there (sitnng upright, with calmer voice, her face illumined with a higher light) and mine — began- — to prove to you the life you gave should be a blessing, not a curse, to you. And you shall have one proof — tomorrow, (rising she totters forward). Roger (supporting her and taking her hand) — Lita! Come ! You are beside yourself with fever. Lolita (clinging to him as she straightens herself) — No, no (with a wild laugh) ! Not while I can still hold my own! (putting her hands to her head) Ah! It is all so — forgive me! (going toward the table). Forget that I've said! I — (putting her hand to her throat) — I — (sinking down into the chair) — my throat — is — parched! Roger (at her side) — You must take at once the medi- cine Otero left, (reaching for a glass). Lolita (faintly, her face for a moment only revealing her consternation) — I — must have — dropped the — Roger (going toward the fountain) — I'll look. Lolita (s^iatching the vial from her dress, her face dark with revengeful purpose) — Red Cross (hissingiv) 17 still ahead! But wait (stealthily watching Roger, as she hur- riedly pours part of the contents of the bottle into a glass) Magdalen Van Orsdale ! (with a sardonic smile) I'll score tomorrow! Oh! (pretending to take the bottle from her bosom, as Roger, stopping in his search, looks up) I — I remember now. I have It. (lifting the carafe and filling the glass with a shaking hand). Oh! (as Roger reaches the table) I've got it too full. Roger (taking the vial from her trembling fingers) No matter. Half of this in a glass of wine, I believe he said. liOlita (sinking back wearily) — Yes. Roger (after measuring it out and filling up the glass) — • I hope this may have immediate effect, (handing her the mixture). Lolita (with a faint smile, pointing to the other filled glass) — Let us drink to it! Roger (lifting the glass) — Your health ! Lohta (raising hers) — The same for you and success with it ! 36, A MODERN MAGDALEN The prophetic moan is distinctly heard, and at this moment Otero appears in C. door. lie starts fearfully forward. Roger is motionless and keenly attentive. Loiita stands frozen until the sound dies away, then the glass falls from her hand and the crash arouses her. Loiita (falling on her knees and clasping Rogers hand) — Ah ! (piteously) You heard. Disaster will come — Qtero (leaning against a pillar, his face clouded with superstitious fear, his voice awe-stricken) — to us all. Roger (with conviction, as he helps Loiita to her feet) — It's a human voice, and the sound may come again. Loiita (putting her hands over her ears)- — It shall not be heard. Otero ! Music ! La Rosa ! Roger (as Otero goes off C.) — Lita, if you were only calmer ! You're foolish to let this go on. I wish I could convince you you're the victim of a trick. Loiita (taking the chair, and anxiously watching the door) — No. You'll see. Four mulato boys in native costume enter C. with man- dolins and guitars. Two take the bench in R. corner, two sit cross-legged on the floor in front of them. Otero, entering at L., stands beside the table. Roger (to Lita) — If you'll pardon my interest in the fountain, now that the doctor has returned, I'd like (smiling) to make a closer acquaintance with it. Loiita (shuddpri^g, as Roger goes) — Y\^u'd best not. La Rosa enters C. Roger seats himself on the fountain-bench somewhat back at L. side. Loiita (smilingly) — We're impatient. Rosa. La Rosa bows smilingly in answer and the dance begins. During the first part of it. nurses in Red Cross habits come to linger in C. doorway a few moments in passing. At the finish, as La Rosa moves into the background, her foot catching on the disnlaced dungeon-covering, she falls. Loiita (starting up) — Oh! Otero starts forward, but stops as Roger is instantly at the dancer's side. Roger (helping her to her feet) — I hope you're not badly hurt. (La Rosa, shaking her head and laughing confusedly, hurries out after throwing a kiss to Lita.) A loose flag' (attempting to replace it with his foot) answers for— Loiita (going forward) — The dungeon-cover (falling back toward Otero, as the moan is again distinctly heard). Roger — Dungeon! (with the triumph of conviction in his face) So (looking toward the fovintain) we'll be favored with an introduction to the body of your voice, (kneeling to push back the slab and raise the door). Tonio (piteously) — Senorita. Loiita (starting forward) — Tonio! Roger (neering in) — A child's voice! Tonio — Senorita! (moaning). Otero (also drawn to the opening) — It is Tonio. Loiita (bending over the opening)^ — Tonio, are you hurt'? Can vou walk? Roger — He is moving. How can we reach him? Loiita (to one of the colored boys who huddle in a frightened group — Pedro ! My shawl, there ! (pointing to the bench at L.) The rest of you, go! (They obey.) Go I A MODERN MAGDALEN 37 w n^^"^^ n ^'^'* brings the shawl in great haste and hurries out C.) Can you hold to my shawl V ^.^^^oger (taking the shawl and lowering it)— Will it Lolita — Easily. .o?^£^i"T^^^"'^' ^y ,^^y' if you can hold to this till we n^L^''^''^', ^T-,!'' ""^^^''^ pause). There! He has it. Here! Otero, take hold and pull! (Otero takes the shawl, and h^F^J*^'^"^ ^Z^\' *?^^ opening in a position to take the boy the moment he is within reach). Otero (as the hoy's head appears)— He slips. istr;;nTh'j"flTo"^' ""'' '" ''"^' ^«"^^' ^'^ ^^^-^^^^^ ^-^•^' Koger (supporting the child's head)— Poor little lad ' f^o^l^^/ kneeling beside the child)— Tonio, speak! "(her ^en^d gentleness and pity). Tell me how this hap- Tonio (feebly)— Quitas. (Lolita draws in her breath sharply.) Senorita—( trying to raise his head). Loiita — Is here beside vou. Tonio Cardenas appeai-s in the window L. of C. door and is seen by Otero only , Tonio ( ^iniciiiK sii-l.tiy)— Tell— Rough— rider— Colonel- Roger (raiymg- his again)— Here, Tonio. -^^^/_^ (Wiih levLT sh cxfoi-r) — Way— underground — secret Cardenas and (Jtero exchange tense glances. Lolita — He raves. Tonio (with another effort) — Secret— way— leads— to— (pause). Roger (tensely) — To what, Tonio? . Tonio (trying to sit up. his eyes wild) — Spy ! Spv ! He IS— he IS — i sitting up and gazing fixedly at Roger). Roger — \ps, Tonio. Tonio (with maniacal cleverness)^I'll wait for (slin- pmg back)— the— Colonel (sinking into Roger's arms \nrd laughing with wild gloe). Cardenas, with a smile cf triumph, disappears. CURTAIN. ACT II. Scene H—In camp of the Fairfax Roughriders. Two days after battle. , The intorior of Colonel Fairfax's tent, a full view of which is had through a spacious opening. In. the left background a cot. In the left foreground a table with a camp-stool on ei^ch side or it. At rhe right, m'dway of the canvas and close against it a low oblong chest of plain wood. In the back canvas, to the right, broad flaps are folded ba^'k. making a good-sized entrance. Through it is had a vievv of towering purple peaks and a near glimpse of small tents in a setting of tropical verdure. In the distance also are soldiers scattered here and there, some passing to and fro, others lolling on the ground in groups 38 A MODERN MAGDALEX At the right of the tent in the foreground a clump of trees. At the left in the foreground low shrubs. It is broad day. At the rise of the curtain Roger and Dick are discovered, the former seated on the stool near C, the latter on that near the canvas. The uniforms of both show the wear and tear of the recent battle. Roger's left arm is bandaged and rests in a sling. Dick has a limp. Koger iweariij'j — Yes. Dick, it might all have been very different if we could have learned something from Tonio. Dick (sympathetically) — An' ye couldn't worry nothin* out o' 'im? Roger (abstractedly) — Nothing. Not even in his wildest ravL 3_. Lat' he j^iven a clue. Dick — An' ye hain't found no underground way? Roger (slowly shakins: his >iead> — Xo : wo haven't dis- covered any secret passage. The boy probably meant the dungeon. Dick (grimly) — But Tony wan't ratty when he waa a-ramblin' on about the spy. Au (wiiu aoggeu eunvictu^x^i be God 1 it must fi-been that same damned reptyle thet chugged 'im in the hole. Roger (languidly) — Quitas declares he put the boy there for running away from his work. It seems to be the common resort in severe cas^s. Dick (grinning sarcastically) — An' this was a devilish severe one. But Tony wa'n't put in thar by none o' the hired hands, not by a damned sight. You don't swallow it ither, pard — ^Colonel. Roger (sadly) — What I may believe. Dick, doesn't fur- nish me with proofs to fix upon the traitor. And Tonio's proofs were needed most two days ago. Dick — Even ef ye lied a-nabbed the traitor — blast his crooked wirdpipe I — we'd a-hed to fight all the samee when the dirty Spanish devils made a dead set at us. But when thev trap us agin mebbe they'll count on a dark horse. Say, but them niggers did finish 'em ! Kogpr (bowiTisr his head on his liJi^d) — If the Eierhth had been twenty minutes later — I shouldn't have got out with even a ha^ dtui ct men. Dick — Dicli — l led those brave fellows to their death — ^(with a strong effort at self control) — and I — I — am spared, (covering his eyes with a trembling hand). Dick (chokingly) — Say. pard! (rising and walking off to R., (gulping hard). Stab me in the gizzard for a tender- foot 1 (gulping) I ain't game here. Roger (nursing his wounded arm) — Dick, this bullet- hole should have been plugged up. It's letting all my ooura?r-t would be brought before us today 'i Dick — I'll bet Cadge Cardenas told 'im. Roger (scowling) — Does Tex know the person? A MODERN MAGDALEN 39 Dick (grimly) — .Mebbe an' mebbe not. Say, Colonel (nerv- ously), ef thet bullet hain't a-blasted all yer nerve, ye've got to git another grip on yer tight-ropes. Roger — What now, Die's! Well (unconsciously straight- ening himself), out with your bad news! I think 1 can survive the blow. Dick (grufliy)— Don't gamble on it! It's a thunderbolt, (looking down and nervously tapping the stool). It — 1 — Judas priest, (rising and mopping his brow with his sleeve) You— (coming forward)— I— ( looking off into the distance at R.). Say! (with relief mingled with strong distaste) Say— mo— ree— ty Lo— lee— ty— our Lady Bountiful's— (with a sneer)— ^a-glidin' this way. Roger (with a humorous glance in the direction indicated by Dick) — So you're still unwon by all the Senorita's good- ness ! (Dick gives a little snort.) Well, Dick, you surely can t deny the grace of her glide. Dick (irritated and turning back into the tent) — It 'ud be more graceful goin' the other way. Roger (smiling) — You must own" you owe her a breath- ing-spell. Dick (shrugging his shoulders) — Yep. But I'll gamble you're in fer it, anvwav. When thev kerrv their heads like thet (mdicatine: with a ierk of bis head the dr-ect'on of Lolita's approach), they mean business, (going toward back). An' I (with a sigh) hain't any anecdote to kill 'er ' stiug. (going olf C). Roger (turning) — One moment, Dick, (following him to the door). Lolita appears. She is not gowned a la Red Cross, and has no head covering other than a parasol. Lolita (stopping near the clump of trees, in a listening attitude, her face, revealing both fear and hope)— If Quitas IS with Roger, all is lost. Roger (facing round as Dick goes) — Bring me word as soon as possible, (coming forward). Lolita (sauntering languidly into Roger's view) — I'm heartily glad you're on duty again. Colonel. But (with tender anxiety, as she crosses slowly to L.) are you (clos- ing her parasol) strong enough for it? For today's painful work ; Roger— I've the strength of impatience. T want to get to the end of this business. Will you be seated? (motioning to the stool at L.) To see the traitorous face of one of my own men (Lita smiles unperceived by Roger as he walks iorward to throw a searching glance toward R en- trance) will cause me not so much suffering as the sus- pense. Lolita (toying abstractedly with the lace of her parasol) — Lm not so sure. I hope not. I supposed you knew — Roger (going back to tiie table)— I don't even know the suspect s name, nor anything concerning the arrest I shall probably hear all details in a very few minutes when General RiA-evs arrives. Lolita (laying her parasol on the table) — I left the Gen- eral at thp house. He asked me to tell you he'd be delaved ten or fifteen minutes. Roger (sitting) — Is there somethina- I can do for ^'ou "^^ Lolita (apparently distressed) — I wish you could '' (pout- ingly) ! It's anything but pleasant for me to be dragged Roger— Quitas ! (wirh a slight frown) He seems to have into this affair. Roger (surprised) — In what way? 40 A MODERN MAGDALEN Lolita — I don't know, nnless it's by way of Jose Quitas. Roger — Quitas (with a slight frown) ! He seems to have a faculty for getting people into unpleasant places. How has he plunged you into this affair V Lolita (with a vexed laugh) — By offering himself as principal witness against the suspect. Roger — Ah ! Lolita — I suppose the General wants me to swear to Jose's veracity. Roger (emerging from a deep study) — So Quitas has been looking for a reward. Lolita (impatiently) — Even if the reward should prove to be rightfully his. I shouldn't allow him to receive it. The bringing to justice of a traitor to his country should be satisfaction enough, (deeply earnest). I hope Jose has made no mistake. Roger — Jose probably knows in a case like this he must furnish incontestable proofs. Lolita* (looking straight ahead, and assuming a dreamy expression) — -Jose no doubt has them. Dick (appearing in door at back) — Message (saluting) for Colonel Fairfax. Roger goes instantly to Dick, who hands him a paper, and both step outside the tent. Lolita (with a smile of enjoyment) — And what proofs Jose hasn't, I can furnish him. Ah I Magdalen van Orsdale, what wouldn't you give to have found this little pin ! Roger's pin ! It certainly will scratch you off the list, Magdalen, dear — you with your frank, innocent face and (sneeringly) your silvery voice that so singles you out, even to my overseer. I'oor Magdalen I (sarcastically) When you plot treason in dark hours and lonely places, you should leave your voice and Roger's pir at home. Since you didn't, and Fate still is with me. I can now supply Jose with an incontestable proof, (going leisurely forward to stealthily scan the approach at R.). Quitas enters noiselessly. He is a mulatto of small stature and thin. Craft and cunning show in every line of his wrinkled face. His eyes are small and bead.v. His ear- lobes sport large hoop earrings. He is in the native garb of an upper servant. As he appears within v'ew of Lita alone, she imperiously motions him back, her eyes glittering. Jose, stealthily retreating, takes position back of the clump of trees. Roger (re-ent-ering) — I'll answer in person. Lolita (relaxing in triumph) — Ah! (sauntering back). You're not called av/ay now? Roger (taking his hat from the table) — Yes, I'll not be gone more than five minutes. (Goes off back.) Lolita, hastening forward, eagerly searches the approach at R. Xot seeing Jose, she gives a low, peculiar whistle. Jose, coming from hia place of C9ncealment. she meets him just without the tent- Jose, removing his hat and holding it in front of him v.'ith bo1h hands. Lolita — Well! (with cold dignity). Your orders were to come to the house. Quitas (his deferential attitude tinged with cowardice) — I went to the house, senorita. Maria told me you had just left. Lolita (freezingly) — You saw General Rivers? Quitas — Xo, senorita. A MODERN MAGDALEN 41 Lolita (facing the servant with less coldness) — Then he doesn't know yet that you haven't the proof required"? Quitas (dejected, his head down, one hand fumbling ner- vously with his hat) — No. senorita. No better proof than my eyes, my ears, my word. Lolita (laughing with soft scorn) — Your eyes weren't good enough to distinguish either of the pair of plotters you overheard. Your ears only can swear that there was a woman and a man. Your word — you can repeat word for word the woman's speech? Quitas (nodding emphatically) — Yes, senorita. And wheh I repeat it before the woman Lolita — She may not give a sign. What will your word amount to then'? (Quitas hangs his head.) And the Gen- eral will be very angry. Quitas (apprehensively) — But I am under your protection, senorita. Lolita (with a scornful smile) — Yes. I. too, have thought of that. After you brought me your story I did not go directly to the General. I went first to the place of meet- ing to see if I might not find some clew. You wouldn't shine as a detective, Jose. I found Quitas (looking up eagerly and clutching his hat tightly) — Senorita — senorita (with a half gasp) Lolita — Found what alone could save you from the Gen- eral's wrath. In return (looking reflectivelv ahead as Jose stands, his head bent low. his hat pressed tightly to him) all you do to repay me is (with intense emphasis) to re- member that I have no part in the affair. Here Is the proof you found, (handing Jose the pin). Quitas (with humblest deference) — The proof I found* yes. senorita. Lolita (hurriedly, as the tread of feet and the distant murmur of voices are heard) — Remember ! Back ! till the Gen- eral comes! ((^oing to the stool, while Jose takes his posi- tion just outside the tent.) General Rivers enters at back, accompanied by Roger. Rivers is soldierly, tall, portly, stern. Hair and mustache gray. He carries a small package of papers in his hand. Dick reappears to take position at L. side of entrance, racing out. Rivers (In a crisp, businesslike tone, the moment of ap- pearance) — Came not a half hour ago. The reward you offered is fine bait. Roger— If it catches the right fish, (throwing his hat on the cot). Lolita (standing) — You'll not detain me long. General? Rivers (with a slight bow. as he places his hat and papers on the table) — I hope not. Lolita (as Rivers looks about for another seat) — The chest will serve me, General, (walking across to it and seating herself). Rivers and Roger take the stools, the former that at L., the latter lifting the opposite one into position at back of table, facing the audience. Quitas. assuming a bold front, apppars in view of the tent occupants, taking position in tlw U. foreground, not con- cealing Lolita. Neither Rivers nur Roger acknowledges his presence. Rivers (grimly, to Roger)— Thi^ last bait-snapper says he 42 A MODERN MAGDALEN has evidence that might inci'imiiiate himself — will convict — and promises to hand me over the traitor to-day. I sent him word we would deal lightly with him if hei assisted us in securing the traitor. Roger (smiling wanljO — rj-obahly a case of falling out among rogues. Rivers — A case with more promising indications than the one in hand, (with a cursory glance at Lita). Miss Juarez (fixing his eyes on the papers he is fingering), my anony- mous correspondent requested that you be present during your overseer's testimony. (Lita settles back with startled eyes, darkening face and compressed lips.) Roger (who has been unmindful of the address to Lita) — You say the prisoner has denied the charge. Rivers — Of treason, yes (taking a letter from the top of the package, opening and reading) : "I swear that I am as innocent of tlie charge of treason laid upon me as I am ignorant of the grounds for my imprisonment" (laying the sheet unfolded on the table). Roger (laughing grimly) — A safe oath. Most diplomatic. Magdalen enters R. with a colored guard. She is cos- tumed as a Red Cross nurse, the number 17 in white being distinctly visible in the large red cross prominent midway of each upper sleeve. She is pale and distinguished by a sorrowful dignity. The twain are not yet visible to the tent occupants. Rivers (with crisp scorn) — What else could you expect from a woman V Roger (starting back with a horrified face) — Woman! Rivers (with an impatient shove of the papers) — Of the Red Oross. Roger (in pained surprise) — A nurse I Who is ■ Magdalen enters the tent unperceived by Roger. Ouard takes position at R. wall of tent, facing front, his gun at his side. Rivers (fixing a surprised scowl on the prisoner) — Before us. Magdalen stands a few paces from the table, her position, not concealing Lita. Roger (springing to his feet at sight of Magdalen) — Magdalen I (Rivers turns to Roger in surpi*ise.) Miv God! (clutching the table for support). General (struggling ef- fectually for self-control), there is some fearful mistake! Lolita is unnoticed in Roger's intense agitation. Sup- ported by one hand resting on the chest, she leans forward, her eyes" fastened on Itoger. her lips parted in a smile of triumi^h which is made more cruel by the disclosed t^eth. Rivers (sharply) — Let us hope -so. Calm yourself, Fair- fax I Qui';as, come forward where you can face the pris- oner : Quitas obeys, taking position a little back of Rivers. Roger's eyes follow and rest piercingly on Quitas. whoi shifts his gaze from Magdalen to Lita, who signs to him to settle it on Magdalen. Magdalen regards her accuser with clear, steadfast eyes. Rivers — Miss (consulting the letter lying before him) Van Orsdale. the charge of treason is brought against you by this man (indicating him bj' a curt wave of the hand), who claims to have come upon yon in secret conversation with" another between R and 10 o'clock or the night pre- A MODERN MAGDALEN 43 ceding the recent battle. (Magdalen gives an almost imper- ceptible start, her left hand clutcliing lier gown, her eyes falling.) Do 3'ou deny being party to such conversation? Magdalen (stonily, and slowly raising her eyes to meet those of her questioner; — I deny being party to any treas- onable plot or to the knowledge of any. Roger looks at Rivers with a smile of satisfaction. Lolita. with catlike patience, fixes her cruel smile- on Magdalen, who is unconscious of it. Rivers (sharply, to Quitas) — Repeat what you heard of the conversation. Quitasi — She was talking Roger (sternly) — A woman was talking. Otero enters at back and quietly takes position in the back- ground L. of Roger. Quitas (nervously) — A woman (doggedly, after a glance at Lita). This is the woman. I know her voice. She was talking to a man. She said : '"Not your money. Never fear I" (Magdalen leaus forward fixing a desperate look on Quitas, her lips parted with fear, her hands clutching at the bosom of her gown.) ""I should die rather than let it be wrung from me" (Magdalen turns mechanically to Roger, who IS watching her witli a terrified face) "that you be- trayed" . That's all I caught. Roger (in agonized protest) — Magdalen! For God's sake, Geneial, she is overwrought by hard work and the false charge I I would swear on my life she is innocent I Quitas — And I swear I've told the truth ! Otero (with a satisfied smile) — I swear it, tool (All turn in surprise, I.ita half rising in her astonishment.) I was there — after tiie man. I thought he was going to meet — someone else, which would have made the meeting of special interest to me. Roger (turning to Otero, his face drawn) — But you were mistaken in the woman's voice. Otero (shaking his head and smiling disagreeably) — No. Quitas; — I swear to her voice 1 And at the place where they were standing one of the two dropped this, (holding up the pin). Roger staggers back, his hand to his eyes. Magdalen droops her head, and her arms hang limply at her s'dcs. Lolita settles back in relieved satisfaction, moistening her dry lips, and passing the back of her hand lightly over her eyes. Otero's attitude is that of a spectator delighted with a tableau arranged for his special benefit. Rivers looks up jntyingly at Roger. Quitas gazes fixedly at Lita. returning to the nervous clutching and twisting of his hat. Rivers (to Roger, who is now looking at Magdalen with dazed eyes) — You recognize the pin? Roger (without takirm" his eyes from Magdalen) — Yes. (After a hliurr pause, in a voice unnatural and painfully distinct) — It is mine, (falling back slightly and dropping his head). Lolira (springing to her feet, her eyes wild with fury, her hands clenched at her breast, her teeth set) — Ah I Otero meets the surprise with soft laughter and turns questioningly toward the door at back. 44 A MODERN MAGDALEN Rivers has sprung to his feet simultaneously with Lita, and, gripping Roger's arm, fixes a storn. searching glance on him. Dick, striding forward, looks speechlessly at Roger's avert- ed face. Cardenas enters at back between two guards, Otero mo- tioning them to halt. They stop just within the door. Maodalen (recovering first) — General ! As there's a God above us, Roger Fairfax is not guilty of treason to his coun- try or to his flag. Whoever believes it believes Dick (beyond all restraint) — A damned lie! Otero (coming to the front and motioning the unnoticed^ trio forward )^And here (chuckling softly as he waves a hand toward Cardenas) is the proof of it. Roger steps back toward Lita. who has sunk down on the chest, her wrist to her forehead, her eyes staring blankly. Cai'denas and guards take position in L. background. Rivers has seated himself, smiling grimly. Otero takes a position just back of Rivers. Magdalen (gasping, her vo'ce almost a whisper) — Cajetan Cardenas! (One hand at her throat, the other clenched at her side.) Roger — At last ! Cardenas glances at Magdalen, smiling familiarly, then shifting his eyes looks fixedly ahead, his manner collected. Otero^ — Cardenas, verily. (To Cardenas) — Amigo mlo. exonerate (laughing softly) your — friend, (looking toward Magdalen, v>'ho bows her head). Quitas, you know, didn't catch all of the conversation that night. Cardenas (without looking at Alagdalen) — Whatever con- versation Jose Quitas overheard between myself and this — nurse — (Magdalen's head sinks lower) — had nothing to do with treason. I and I alone planned to deliver the Fairfax Roughriders into the trap of the Spanish, whose agent I've been since the war began. Lolita (leaning forward in agonized surprise) — No! Roger (in a low. suppressed tone) — You fiend! •Cardenas — I only regret (with an ugly leer at Roger) that the Fairfax dead don't number their Colonel. Dick (with a snort) — Tiiere wont' be no regrets when the Fairfax dead number a traitor! (Going off at back.) Roger (sadly, his gaze fixed absently on Otero) — I think there must ever be regret that the Fairfax dead must number a traitor. Cardenas — And not count among them that dog. (pointing to Otero with a venomous glance). Otero (with a disagreeable laugh)- — Well, you see, I con- fessed on promise of pardon. Pardon's all I get. amigo. That's better business than I did with you. You get both glory and gold. If I hadn't trapped you I'd now be among the stiff and cold. And but for me (with an expressive shrug) your Colonel and your — friend — the nurse (smiling) Lolita (rising, stung into fury, her whole being trembling with passion) — But for you, Diego Otero, my cousin would not die a traitor's death! (To Roger) — But for you I should not suffer a broken heart. But for you (turning savagely on Magdalen, who recoils), you! — you infamous creature! (Magdalen, with a low moan, covers her face) — you' have killed my hapniness, and now (snatching a dagger from her bosom) I kill (the dagger flashing high as she springs lithely forward) you! 5 A MODENR MAGDALEN 4 Cardenas attempts to rush forward, but is held by the guards. Roger, with a quick movement, tries to stay Lita's up- flung arm. The blade falling grazes his right hand, Llta falling against him. Before Roger can free his able arm to hold her Lita springs backward, panting, but still ablaze with fury, the dagger held close. Magdalen mechanically crosses to Rivers's side, without taking her terrified gaze from Lita. Quitas, fallen on his knees, crosses himself repeatedly and mumbles apparent supplications. Rivers (sharply, to the colored guard) — Guard! (the guard wheels with a quick salute) Take (pointing to Lita) that woman ! Lolita, at the advance of the guard, raises the dagger, and with unerring aim. plunges it into her own breast. Magdalen, with a low cry, turns her face away, and, her back to the audience, leans heavily on her right hand that has sought the table for support. Guard, arrested by Lolita's act, removes his hat and stands with bowed head. Lolita (gasping) — No — nigger — lays — his — hands — on — Lolita — Juarez, (trotting forward, Roger catches her, but she slips to the ground. Kneeling beside her be lifts her Slightly to support her against him). Roger I (as he gently takes her hand, his face deeply sorrowful) I.Roger! (faintly, then with supreme effort) Life — for me — meant— love — from — you. Your — (longer pauses) — love-:-denied — means — (falling back dead). CURTAIN. Act III. A MODERN MAGDALEN 49 ACT III. At the Stebbins farm. Late October, Scene I — The sitting-room of the farmhouse cozily and artistically refurnished, red being the predominant color. The walls are covered with dainty pictures irregularly hung, several in a space. Pretty portieres conceal all the doors but that leading into the hall at R. The heavy curtains of the bay-window are drawn wide apart, revealing a five o'clock tea-table, the window-seat covered with pretty cushions, and the dainty sheer window curtains. The windows are bright in the glow of the sun just sinking beneath the water. The grass is brown and dead. A case of books stands between the bay and R. wall. At each side, not against the wall, is a chair. Between the doors in R. wall is a quaint old table un- covered. In its center is a large lamp, at one side a rose- bow'l. a"d scattered about a few small books. A little at L. of center of room is a comfortable couch, at its head a handsome silk pillow, across its foot, trailing on the flt)or, a Persian shawl. A magazine lies near the pillow. Two plain pillows lie on the floor propped against the couch. Near the head of the couch is a high-backed chair. At L. of fireplace is a rocker. At upper end the old settle. In front of this a step-ladder. Over the mantelboard is the lookingglass. Its length parallel with the board, its frame partly concealed by sprays of autumn leaves. On the board is a vase of roses and several conspicuous Cuban relics — machetes, strings of Cuban hears, etc. A large photo of Roger in uniform stands at the farther end. Tne nre-ioers burn briehtlv in the snacious fireplace. The old clock still occupies the L. corner of the room. At the rise of the curtain it is on the stroke of 5. Madge (entering backward through upper door at L.) — Shut your eyes tight. I'll lead you. Aunt Marthy, her eyes closed, and with both hands tightly held by Miadge, is slowly drawn into the room. She is in a tidy black gown, and wears a fresh gingham apron. Madge is also apron-enveloped, and her sleeves are turned up above the elbow. Aunt Marthy — Can't I open 'em now? Madge (laughing, her face radiant) — Just a second, (as they are close the chair at R. of bay) Now! (watching Aunt Marthy eagerly). Aunt Marthy (after a circling glance, with a little gasp of bewilderment, both hands upheld) — Land alive I An' you an' Magdalen done it I 50 A MODERN MAGDALEN Madge (motioning toward the window) — And look in here! Isn't it dear! (ecstatically). Don't you like it? Aunt Marthy (critically) — Thet ain't so bad. (turning to look about the room again). Out here it's kind a-cluttered up, but (with a half sigh) I guess I'll git used to it. Madge (going swiftly to kneel by Aunt Marthy, and put- ting impulsive arms about her) — Aunt Marthy, you're a dear to spend so much money for me. Aunt Marthy (a hand on Madge's head) — I hain't spent no money, child. Magdalen done it all. Madge (rising quickly and frowning jealously) — So it's Miss Magdalen who's done all this against Rogers com- ing! Aunt Marthy (soothingly)— I guess she wants — Madge (choKingly)- — To have things nice for Roger. Aunc Marthy (smiling) — Don't you? Madge (unheeding the question and coming nearer Aunt Marthy, her hands clasped) — Aunt Marthy, are you sure he loves me? Aunt Marthy (shaking her head perplexedly) — Hain't he a-comin' here today to ask ye to hev 'im? Madge (in a strained voice) — I know. But ever since — since— for days I've been thinking. You know he never expected me to read the letter he left with you unless he died. Aunt Marthy (considerably nettled)— He can't lay no blame to us fer b'lievin' the papers. He was dead fer three days. An' what's more, ef he hednt a-been, I wouldn't a-ben drawed into no promise to let 'im hev ye, fer ye would never a-seen the letter. Madge (tearfully)— Well, you see, the awful part of It is, he had plenty of time to change his mind — about me — between that letter and — and the one you wrote' when we found he was alive. Of course, he can'i, very well do any- thing now but ask me to — Oh! I — I — (chokingly). Sarah Ann (shrilly, from without) — Mavthy ! Aunt Marthy (rising hurriedly) — He ain't changed his mind, (going to upper L. door). A fool never does, (goes out). Madge (coming forward to the couch) — And he wrote the letter before — before — he knew about — Cardenas — trying to — take me away. ( buries her face in her handkerchief) . A thud without, the result of a fallen stick of wood, prompts Madge to a hasty drying of the eyes, and a speedy feint at arranging the pillows on the couch. Sarah Ann enters at upper L. door. She has an armful of wood, a small stick in her hand. She looks grimly around. Sarah Ann (disdainfully, pointing the stick at R. wall) — Why didn't ye tell me ye didn't hev stuff enougli to hang them picters even. ( looking around at the furniture). A nice mess ye've made of it ! (Madge, standing behind the high-backed chair, her hands upon it, hides her face in them). I've got to go to gittin' supper now (going to the settle and raising the lid), an' I hain't no time to put things in place, (laying the wood carefully in the box). There ain't nothin' so heavy but ye could place it yerself, an 'ef ye hed a speck o' pride, ye'd do it before Roger — Madge (straightening up severely) — Colonel Fairfax! Sarah Ann (throwing In the rest of the wood, and rising as she slams the lid) — Huh ! ye needn't waste no breath Colonel Fairfaxin' me. (Madge sets her teeth, and clutching A MODERN MAGDALEN 51 the chair with one hand, she pounds it with the other, ir- regularly and slowly). I've knowed Roger Fairfax sence he was knee-high to a grasshopper, an' I guess ef anybody liez a right to Roger 'im I hev. (turning to take out the step- ladder, she catches sight of the Cuban relics on the mantel- board). Them things from Cuby (Madge gives tlie chair a shove, goes to the coucli, seats herself with her back to Sarah Ann, picks up the magazine, and pretends to read, while she beats a tattoo on the carpet with an angry foot) air nice things to greet a man who's ben nigh kilt by them Stneakin' Cubyans. An' you're a fine American to stick 'em up thar. (turning and looking over Madge's slioulder). I hev a little taste ef (with a satisfied grin) I haint smart enough to read a book upside down. Madge (rising and flinging the book from her, her eyes flashing) — You're making up for lost time today, (going to- ward lower R. door). You'd better take your temper up to Miss Maedalen (the lower R. door is pushed quickly open) she wants her fire kindled. Aunt Marthy enters in haste. She is in outdoor attire, her mittens in her hand, but still wearing her apron. Catching sight of Sarah Ann's convulsed face, she stops short. Sarah Ann (feeling blindly for the ladder) — Ye found- lin' — Aunt Marthy (nervously) — Land alive! You two haint a-quarrelin' agin ! I reckoned ye'd keep peace to-day seein' ez Roger — Sarah Ann (endeavoring to mimic Madge)— Colonel Fair- fax! Aunt Marthy (laughing good-humoredly as she crosses to the coucli to look into the glass)— Jes' so ! jes' so ! I keep a-fergittin' thet. Madge, back of Aunt Marthy, but in plain view of Sarah Ann, throws a kiss to the latter with a sweeping curtsey. Aunt Marthy, in order to settle her bonnet to her taste, lays her mittens on the couch, catching sight of the shawl and pillow. Aunt Marthy (turning quickly to Madge) — Land alive! Madge Stebbins, the piller Magdalen give me, an' my Per- shy shawl ! Ye can't hev 'em out here. Sarah Ann moistens her lips with satisfaction as she looks malignantly at Madge. Madge (gruefully) — It's so — I thought nothing too good for Ro — Colonel Fairfax. Aunt Marthy (taking up the shawl to fold it reverently) — So 'taint ! So 'taint. But fust thing I know he may be took with one o' them Cubyan headaches in here, an' ye'll be a-lettin' the campfire run all over everythin'. Here, Sairey Ann, (handing her the shawl and pillow) do you put 'em back in the chimblev-cunboard ! As Aunt Marthy stoops to pick up the pillows from the floor to arrange them stiffly on tlie couch. Sarah Ann, with the articles held gingerly, makes a stiff curtsey in a ludicrous endeavor to mimic Madge, and throwing a kiss, backs away to upper R. door through which she makes an awkward exit. Madge sends a black look after her. Aunt Marthy (with a final pat of her bonnet-tie, and a last survey in the glass) — I guess I'm ready at last. (Madge goes to take a gentle hold of the apron-strings) . I must be a-gittin' off (picking vip her mittens). 52 A MODERN MAGDALEN Madge (laughing as she pulls a string)— This apron, yes. Aunt Marthy — ^Land alive ! Madge (her arms about Aunt Marthy's waist) — I wish I were going with you. Good-by ! Aunt Marthy (as Madge gives her a hasty kiss on the cheek) — What's thet fer? Magdalen enters upper L. door, in her hands a bunch of red roses. Her entrance is unobserved by the other occu- pants of the room. Madge (shyly, looking down) — For the Colonel. Magdalen, stopping near the window, eyes the scene com- prehendingly and coldly. Aunt Marthy (with embarrassed humor, as she goes quickly toward the lower R. door) — Psho ! Magdalen (smoothly) — Not off yet. Aunt Marthy? (Madge starts to fold up the apron). I'm afraid (going to the table) you'll miss Roger. (Madge's face stiffens). Aunt Marthy (drawing on her mittens) — Ef the clock's right I won't. Magdalen. Madge ! ( her hand on the door- knob) ye'd better fly round (looking approvingly at Mag- dalen who is in simple but elegant attire) an' git yer dress changed, (goes). Madge (as'de. turning jealous eyes on the roses, the stems of which Magdalen is disentangling) — Roger's favorite flower! (to Magdalen) It's nice (sweetly) to have money to get what you want directly you want it. isn't it? Colonel Fairfax loves red roses. We have you to thank for so much. I've jn^t learned that you (with an indicative gesture) made this change. S Magdaien (nonchalantly) — Aunt Marthy might as well have some of the furniture I've had stored away, (looking phont P'-^nwhat dreamily) It makes a great difference, doesn't it? Aiaage (Still sweetly) — Yes. indeed. It's a wonder you hadn't thousrht of it before. But just at this time it's specially nice, and I, for one, am deeply grateful to you. (going off to upper L. door). Magdalen (looking after her absently) — I'm glad you like it. Madee (at the door, her grateful expression tinged with triumph) — Yes. for Roger (eyeing Magdalen, who gives a slight start, then puts a thorn-pricked finser to her lips) Roger — and I — can never forget how pretty you (a slight emphasis on the you and a pause) made the room where he comes to ask me (slowlv and with drooping head as Magda- len faces her — ^to be — his wife. (goes). Maffdalen sways back as:ainst the table, gripping it fiercely with one hand, the other clutching hp^' gown at the throat, her face drawn and pale, her eves wilu. Magdalen (hoarsely) — His wife I She lies, lies I His wife! (sta oti. »o CAi.D'v. SEP. 25 1902 ^o t^02 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS llillililllllillilllilllllllill 015 988 556 2