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LETTY 
 
Letty ^^ 
 
 An Original Drama 
 
 In Four Acts and an Epilogue 
 
 By 
 ARTHUR W. PINERO 
 
 All rights reserved under the International Copyright Act. 
 Perforfuancc forbidden and right of representation reserved. 
 Application for the right of performing this play may be ffiade 
 to the publishers. 
 
 BOSTON 
 WALTER H. BAKER & CO. 
 
 LONDON 
 
 WILLIAM HEINEMANN 
 
 MCMV 
 

 /fc-L 
 
 Copyright, 1904, by 
 ARTHUR W. PINERO 
 
 A// rights reserved 
 
 PLEASE READ CAREFULLY. 
 
 The acting rights of this play are reserved by the author. 
 Performance is strictly forbidden unless his express consent has 
 first been obtained, and attention is called to the penalties pro- 
 vided by law for any infringements of his rights, as follows : — 
 
 "Sec. 4966:— Any person publicly performing or representing any 
 dramatic or musical composition for which copyright has been obtained, 
 without the consent of the proprietor of said dramatic or musical composi- 
 tion, or his heirs and assigns, shall be liable for damages therefor, such 
 damages in all cases to be assessed at such sum, not less than one hundred 
 dollars for the first and fifty dollars for every subsequent performance, as 
 to the court shall appear to be just. If the unlawful performance and 
 representation be wiilftd and for profit, such person or persons shall be 
 guilty of a misdemeanor, and upon conviction be imprisoned for a period 
 not exceeding one year."— U. S. Revised Statutes, Title 60, Ckap. 3. 
 
Letty 
 
 THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY 
 
 Nevill Letchmere, 
 
 Ivor Crosbie. 
 
 CoppiNGER Drake. 
 
 Bernard Mandeville. 
 
 Richard Perry. 
 
 Neale, a Commercial Traveller. 
 
 Ordish, Agent for an hisiirance Company. 
 
 RuGG, Mr. Leichmei-e" s Servant. 
 
 Frederic, A Maitre d' hotel. 
 
 Waiters. 
 
 Mrs. Ivor Crosbie. 
 
 Letty Shell. | clerks at Dugdale s. 
 
 Marion Allardyce, ) 
 
 Hilda Gunning, An Assistant at Mada7Jie Wat kins" s. 
 A Lady's-maid. 
 
 The scene is laid in London : — 7he First and Fontih 
 Acts at Mr. Letchmere s Flat in Grafton Street, New Botid 
 Street ; the Second at a house in Lanoham Street; the 
 Third in a private room at the Cafe Regence ; and the 
 Epilogue at a photographer' s in Baker Street. The events 
 of the four acts of the drama, commencing on a Satur<- . 
 in June, take place within the space of a few hours. be- 
 tween the Fou7ih Act and the Epilogue two years a7id six 
 months are supposed to elapse. 
 
LETTY 
 
 THE FIRST ACT 
 
 The scene repi'esenis a spacious apartment, decorated and 
 furnished luxuriously and tastefully, upon the first 
 floor of a house in Grafto7i Street. Oji the right are 
 two windoivs overlooking the northern end of Albe- 
 marle Street. The window nearer the spectator is a 
 bay, the further window an ordinary one. Also on 
 the right, but in the ivall at the back, is a double-door. 
 A portiere hangs in the recess of the doorway ; it is, 
 however, draivn aside and the door is open, affording a 
 view of a smaller chamber having the appearance of 
 a library and smokitig-room. J^rom the right cent?e 
 the back wall advances at a right angle for a few feet, 
 and then continues its course to the wall or. the left. 
 In the advanced back wall is another double-door, also 
 open. Beyond is a corridor, on the further side of 
 which a third double-door gives admittance to a bed- 
 room. Within the bedroom a screen is placed before 
 the door so that the interior of this room is hidden. 
 The corridor runs away on the left as if leading to an 
 entrance lobby. Near the fireplace, which is on the 
 left, stands a large table ; on it is a nondescript repast, 
 daintily set for four persons — the glass, silver, and 
 napery being of an elegant kind — consisting of a huge 
 cake, some dishes containing various fruits and sweet- 
 meats, and two decanters of %vine. The cake is elab- 
 orately ornamented, and bears an inscription in green 
 letters upon a white ground. A settee and time chairs 
 are drawn up to the table. On the opposite side of the 
 »7 
 
8 LETTY 
 
 roofn, partly m the bay-windou), a7'e a gra7id piano- 
 forte and a music-stool, a?id, by the piano, stajiding out 
 into the room, are another settee, a small table, and 
 two chairs. One of the chairs is on the left of the 
 small table, the other behind it. A writing-table and 
 chair stand before the further window ; while the 
 spaces not provided for in this descriptioji are filled by 
 choice cabijiets, figures in bronze and ?narble, and 
 lamps of graceful desigfi. 
 
 The light is that of a brilliant afternooji in the 
 height of summer. Iji the library the exterior blinds 
 are lowered, bid in the nearer room they aj'e almost 
 entirely raised afid the fierce glare of the sun is seen 
 withojit. 
 
 [Note : — 7 he descriptions of the scenery, and the 
 directions for the 7nove?nents of the charactej's, are set 
 out as from the point of view of the audieftce. 7 hus, 
 Right and Left are the spectator s right and left, not 
 the actor s.^ 
 
 [RUGG, a spruce man-servant, is surveyi?2g the 
 table on the left ivith a grin. The bell of an 
 outer door 7ings and he disappears, going along 
 the corridor in the direction of the hall. P7es- 
 e7itly he reiur7is shozving in Ivor Crosbje, a 
 sc7'upiilously-iailo7-ed " ma7i about iow7i " — bil- 
 ious- looki7ig, seven-a7zd-thi7'ty, heavy and dull 
 in 77ian7ier. 
 
 RuGG. 
 
 Mr. Letchmere is in his bedroom, Mr. Ivor. I'll tell 
 him. 
 
 [Crosbie deposits hisJiat upon the table 07i the 
 7'igJii and st7'olls over to the la7ger table, wheie 
 he also views the preparations for the feasts 
 RuGG k7iocks at the bed7Vom door. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [ From w ith />/ . ] Yes? 
 
LETTY- 9 
 
 RuGG. 
 Mr. Crosbie, sir. 
 
 [RuGG vanishes, closing the door on the left upon 
 Crosbie. Crosbie is decipherino; the inscrip- 
 tion on the cake as Nevill Letchmere comes 
 through the library and enters at the door on the 
 right. Nevil.l is a tall, handsome yoimg num 
 of tzventy-nine, engaging in spite of a senile that 
 too frequently part ctkes of the sardonic. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Bestoiving a nod upon his visitor.'] Hullo ! 
 
 Crosbie. 
 [Sulkily.] Hullo! [Referring to the inscription.] 
 Who's " Letty " ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 A young lady of my acquaintance. 
 
 Crosbie. 
 "Many Happy Returns " 
 
 Nevill. 
 A select little birthday-party. 
 
 Crosbie. 
 [With a sneer.] Ho ! Your latest, I presume? 
 
 Nevill. 
 You wrong me — quite an innocent affair. I assure you. 
 [Picking tip a fan which lies at hand and thmving him- 
 self upon the settee on the right.] And how is the most 
 genial, the most vivacious, of brothers-in-law ? 
 
 Crosbie. 
 Don't chaff— infernally out of temper. 
 
10 LETTF 
 
 Nevill. 
 YFannmg himself.] Incredible! Who can have suc- 
 ceeded in checking your enviable flow of spirits? 
 
 Crosbie. 
 [Facing him.] Your sister ; you might almost guess 
 that. [In a weak rage.] I won't have it, Nevill ; 1 won't 
 stick it, 1 tell you. 
 
 Nevill. 
 You'll not stick } 
 
 Crosbie. 
 Being made a laughing-stock of, being made to appear 
 damnably ridiculous. 
 
 Nevill. 
 The weather isn't favorable to argument — but do you 
 really believe that anybody but himself can make a man 
 ridiculous? 
 
 Crosbie. 
 
 I want none of your cheap sarcasm. \Sitiing by the 
 
 settee on which Nevill is ir dining.] Look here, Nevill! 
 
 I speak candidly — there's no other way. You're a bad lot, 
 
 you Letchmeres. You're nice enough on the outside 
 
 Nevill. 
 Flatterer ! 
 
 Crosbie. 
 But under the crust you're rotten bad. You know you 
 are. \ Wiping his brow.] And Florence is a thoroughly 
 characteristic specimen of your precious family. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Raising himse/f slightly.] You put your views wifh so 
 much charm and delicacy, dear Ivor, that 1 hardly hke 
 
LETTY 11 
 
 to request you to restrict your criticism to my own per- 
 sonal failings. 
 
 Crosbie. 
 Delicacy be hanged ! This ain't the time for it. Her 
 behavior with young Drake is a positive scandal. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [E/eva/mo^ /lis draws.] Drake? 
 
 Crosbie. 
 Coppinger Drake. I was dining with some men at the 
 Carlton last night — in she sails with Drake. What kind 
 of hgure d'ye think /cut? I and my pals went on to 
 the play. Confound it if Coppy and she didn't turn up 
 directly afterwards ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Sifting erect, frowningly i\ Drake's a very decent fel- 
 low, isn't he ? 
 
 Crosbie. 
 \Risi7ig and walking away.] Decent! All over the 
 place with another man's wife ! I've had enough of it. 
 I mayn't be exactly a model husband 
 
 Nevill. 
 You don't even spare yourself. Admirable impar- 
 tiality ! 
 
 Crosbie. 
 
 [Leaning upon the back of a chair, jnoodily.] It's a 
 risky business, I dare say, any man marryin'. But for 
 one of settled habits it's plainly a mug's game. The 
 day's safe to come when you realize that a rattling good 
 bottle of Clicquot and a weed are worth the smartest 
 woman goin'. [With a short laugh, Nevill ^^A upon 
 his feet.] Yes, I admit I'm by no means a model hus- 
 
n LETTY 
 
 band, Nevill, but I — \d7'aiving himself i{p and looki7ig the 
 other in the face\ I'm not an accommodating one. Com- 
 prenez ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 Perfectly. 
 
 Crosbie. 
 I give you and Florence fair warning, then— — 
 
 Nevill. 
 What do you expect me to do ? 
 
 [ The bell of the outer door is heard. 
 
 Crosbie. 
 Your party ? I'm </^ trop. 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Co7isulting his watch. ^ My friends are not due till four 
 o'clock. 
 
 Crosbie. 
 \Listeni7tg.\ I hear the swish of skirts, though, 
 \Fetching his hat — sfteeritig again.'} You never include 
 me in your innercent gatherin's. \Retur72ing to Nevill 
 who has moved towards the door on the left. \ Well, you 
 have a straight talk with Florence — you follow me.'* 
 
 You had better, Nevill, my son ! 
 
 [The door on the left is thrown open, and Flor- 
 ence— Mrs. Ivor Crosbie— ^jz^/^^o. She 
 is a prettyy animated little creaJiif-e, dressed in 
 the extre7ne offashio7t, a year or two Junior to 
 Nevill, zuith a baby face and big, hist7'ous 
 eyes. She prese7its her cheek to Nevill zvho 
 kisses it, but of Crosbie she takes no notice. 
 
 Florence. 
 [To Nevill.] Hope I'm not spoiling an interesting 
 tete-a-tete. I found myself passing your door. Phew ! 
 
LFATY 13 
 
 it's eighty in the shade ! {^Observing the prep ara- 
 
 iicms for the party .'\ My dear boy, what a spread ! 
 
 Crosbie. 
 
 \_With an uncomfortable laugh.] Ratlier an embar- 
 rassin' coincidence, this ! But accidents will happen in 
 the best regulated houseliolds. \^Advancing to her.] 
 Excuse me — you've just been the subject of conversation 
 between your brother and myself. 
 
 [She sits, on the right of the large table, facing the 
 cake, and removes her gloves, 
 
 Crosbie. 
 
 "Yes, and I strongly advise you to hsten to what he's 
 
 got to say to you. If you don't there'll be trouble — d'ye 
 
 hear? [/« another fit of impotent rage.] What the devil 
 
 do you mean by ignoring my presence? You dare turn 
 
 your back on me ! [Finding ^\lyil.\u at his side — 
 
 after a pause.] Oh, all right. 
 
 [He smooths his hat with his sleeve, hesitates, slowly 
 settles his hat itpon his head, and departs with- 
 out further speech. The outer door is slammed. 
 
 Florence. 
 [Contracting her shoulder blades.] Ugh ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 This is delightful, my dear Tiny. [Taking a scent- 
 spray from the table on the right and peyfuming the air.] 
 Why do you trip up my stairs so seldom ? 
 
 Florence. 
 One is always in doubt as to whom one will meet here. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Closing the door on the left.] Oh, Ivor's a rare bird. 
 
 Florence. 
 He — yes. [Pointing to the cake?] But this kind of 
 
14 LETTY 
 
 tiling. \Reading the inscriptioti.^ " Letty. Many- 
 Happy Returns of the Day." Who is Letty, please? 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Discreetly.\ My dear girl ! 
 
 Florence. 
 I insist ! \He laughs, shaking his head; she pouts. ^ I 
 won't upbraid you — there ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 A clerk at a Bucket-shop in Waterloo Place, if you are 
 bent upon knowing. 
 
 Florence. 
 \Twisiing her chair round. ^ What's a Bucket-shop ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 Lamentable ignorance ! 
 
 Florence. 
 Bucket-shop ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Laying the spray aside and taking a cigarette from his 
 case.\ The den of the Outside Stockbroker— a smart 
 gentleman who is at once the tipster and book-maker of 
 the Stock Exchange and a rogue in both relations. 
 
 Florence. 
 A swindler? 
 
 Nevill. 
 An arrant brigand thriving mainly upon the shame- 
 faced gambling propensities of the respectable classes. 
 The credulous parson, the sanguine widow, and the 
 struggling professional man are his chief victims — al- 
 though his transactions are occasionally spiced by a 
 soiled flimsy from an adventurous deiiii-mondaine. 
 
LETTY 15 
 
 Florence. 
 How delectable ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Lighiing his cigarette^ This Waterloo Place gang is 
 particularly eminent. " Dugdale's," they call them- 
 selves. As a matter of fact, they are three worthies of 
 the names of Hammerstein, Cohen, and Mandeville. 
 
 Florence. 
 And Miss Letty— does she participate in the golden 
 gains ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 Good lord, no! Poor Letty! She's one of a dozen 
 young women who live laborious days for a weekly wage 
 of five or seven-and-twenty shillings. 
 
 Florence. 
 \Looking at the table again. \ Who are the others? 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 Others ? 
 
 Florence. 
 
 \Indicatijig the remaining places. ^ You've two other 
 guests apparently. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Ah, yes— Miss Allardyce, also of the Dugdale es- 
 tablishment. The austere Marion shares a stuffy lodg- 
 ing with Letty in the most depressing locality con- 
 ceivable. \Seating himself at the pia7io and touching the 
 keys lightly as they talk.] You notice, dearest Tiny, that 
 the proprieties are rigidly complied with. 
 
 Florence. 
 [/Rising.] And the third ? [Ne throws his head back 
 and laughs heartily. \ Now what tickles you ? 
 
16 LETTY 
 
 Nevill. 
 Some of your marvelous gowns are fabricated in 
 Dover Street, aren't they, by the sublime Madame 
 Watkins ? 
 
 Florence. 
 [^Glancing at herself.] These are her rags. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Miss Gunning is an assistant at Mrs. Watkins's, and, 
 when at home, a next-door neighbor of Letty's. 
 Doubtless she lias often helped to stick pins in your 
 diminutive person. 
 
 PYORENCE. 
 
 {AdvafiC27ig.] Wo\4 on earth do you contrive to scrape 
 acquaintance with people of this description, Nevill ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 Through being on earth. 
 
 Florence. 
 Fiddle ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 Oh, I scarcely remember. An encounter, perhaps, 
 under a friendly portico while sheltering from the rain, 
 the chivalrous offer of an umbrella — no matter. 
 
 Florence. 
 \Kneelmg 7ipon the settee by the p'ia?w, watching him 
 curioiis/y.] Old boy. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [In the middle of a lively air. \ Hullo? 
 
 Florence. 
 Isn't this playing it pretty low down ? 
 
LETTY 17 
 
 Nevill. 
 You deplore the disregard of social barriers. Tush ! 
 it is a leveling age. 
 
 Florence. 
 Bar joking. You understand ; this Letty 
 
 Nevill. 
 Miss Elizabeth Shell? She disdains the Elizabeth, but 
 the unpoetic fact remains. 
 
 Florence. 
 She's the attraction, evidently, [liz^/i a grimace.'\ 
 How can you ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 [ Taking his hands from the piano and facing her, a note 
 of sincerity in his voice.] I feel bound to reinaik, my 
 dear Tiny — not in my own defence but in vindication of 
 the young lady — that Letty, christened Elizabeth, is as 
 straight — I employ the vernacular — as straight as iiiiy 
 woman in our more polite world whom you or 1 shall 
 meet in a day's march. 
 
 Florence, 
 
 Positively ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 Positively. 
 
 Florence. 
 [Signi^cant/}'.] Isn't that an excellent reason, then, 
 for your leaving her alone ? 
 
 [f/e rises and walks away to the table 07t the left 
 wJiere he stands co7iteniplaiing the birthday- 
 feast. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Yes, that bhthe, mercurial spirit — your husband — was 
 
18 LETTY 
 
 reminding me, a few minutes ago, that we Letclimeres 
 are a vicious crew. Ha I tlie utterance may have lacked 
 sometliing" of urbanity ; \sfu-itggmg his shonlders\ but 
 
 Florence. 
 \Siiiing upon the settee. '\ By-the-by, Nevill, what 
 procured you tlie fehcity of a visit from Ivor ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Turni7ig to her.] He called to complain about you 
 and young Drake. 
 
 Florence. 
 [ IFi'th a show of indiffere7ice.'\ Oh ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 yAdvanciiig.] He says that Coppy and you are to- 
 getlier a great deal too frequently and that he's had 
 enough of it. 
 
 Florence. 
 Indeed ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 And if you ask my opinion, my dear girl, I fancy 
 
 Florence. 
 What? 
 
 Nevill. 
 That he has had enough of it. \Firmly.'\ You'd bet- 
 ter drop it. \She laughs tmeasi'/y.] No, no ; stop that 
 for a moment. 
 
 Florence. 
 [/^Tsmg.] But how amusing! And, by way of em- 
 phasis, he declares his conviction that, as a tribe, we are 
 — more or less imperfect, eh ? 
 
LFATY 19 
 
 Nevill. 
 Rotten bad, to quote him. 
 
 Florence. 
 '[Making a 7noi/e.] Rotten Ijad ! 
 Nevill. 
 \Griinly\ Well, aren't we? 
 
 Florence. 
 [ Turning away and seating herself on the left of the table 
 on the right.] Oh, perhaps. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Every one of us, men and women— rotten to the core ! 
 
 Florence. 
 [Truciitg the pattern of the carpet with her foot.] Every 
 one of us ? Isn't that a bit premature ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 I beg your pardon. [Laying a hand upon her shoulder.] 
 Yes, not you, Tiny. You'll make a better show than the 
 rest, old girl. 
 
 Florence. 
 [Weakly.] Ha, ha! 
 
 Nevill. 
 The family record is monotonous reading. You'll be 
 the first to vary it — for how many generadons ? [ Thought- 
 filly but with his characteristic sfnile.] And — who knows ! 
 — tlie spell once broken— Old Nick once kicked on the 
 shins — once ! 
 
 Florence. 
 [Arran^in^ her hair ivith shaky, uncertain fingers.] 
 Nevill—^ ' 
 
20 LETTY 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 \^Rousing himself.] So don't you be seen about town 
 
 constantly with young Drake, or young anybody. Tiny, 
 
 you be careful not to give people tiie faintest excuse for 
 
 humping their shoulders and exclaiming, "another 
 
 Lelchmere ! " 
 
 [She rises abruptly, breaking in itpon him, and, 
 holding the lapels of his coat, speaks iti low, 
 tremulous ioties. 
 
 Nevill ! 
 
 Eh? 
 
 Florence. 
 Nevill. 
 
 Florence. 
 I — I wish to speak to you regarding Coppy Drake ; 
 that's why 1 hunted you up this afternoon. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Yes? 
 
 Florence. 
 Oh, I recognize that it won't do. I made up my mind 
 yesterday. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Made up your mind ? 
 
 Florence. 
 Told him that he or I must clear out — give each other 
 a wide berth — chuck it 
 
 Nevill. 
 [ With set teeth.] Well ? 
 
 Florence. 
 We're in time ; we've not lost our heads completely. 
 
LETTY 21 
 
 He's a sensible boy, and as good as gold — only — he's 
 mad about me. ^He leaves her angrily and paces the 
 
 room.\ Psht ! if that's the way you take it 
 
 \Slie moves as if to depart ; he retiir7is to her. 
 
 Nevill. 
 You fool ! why haven't you come to me before ? 
 
 Florence. 
 \With a shrug.'] I am here now — and, I repeat, in 
 time. The whole thing is settled — he s going. 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 Where ? 
 
 Scotland. 
 
 When? 
 
 Florence. 
 Nevill. 
 
 Florence. 
 He starts to-night, late, in his motor — the Panhard he 
 and I have had so many runs in. Poor dear wretch ! he 
 goes into the dark, he says. {Pleadingly-I And I want 
 you to help me over it. 
 
 Nevill. 
 He^p you ? 
 
 Florence. 
 We've arranged to dine together first— our last meal — 
 the Cafe Regence — half-past-eight 
 
 Nevill. 
 Alone >. 
 
 Florence. 
 So he imagines. \^Loivering her voice. \ But, Nevill, I 
 
22 LETTY 
 
 don't want to be alone with Coppy to-night. I want you 
 to be with us all the while — and to see me home. You — 
 you'll stick to me ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 \G ripping her shni{lders.'\ By God, yes ! 
 
 \_He draws a deep breath and sits by the table on 
 the right, staring at the ceiling. 
 
 Florence. 
 Thanks — awfully. 
 
 \Snddenly she breaks down, produces her handker- 
 chief in a hurry, and stifles a sob with it. He 
 doesn t move, 
 
 Florence. 
 \Recovering herself and blowing her nose. ] I — F 1 1 se n d 
 a line to Coppy telhng him Fve asked you to join us. 
 \Going to the writing-table. \ Shall I write here ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Sourly.] It sounds a rational proceeding. 
 
 Florence. 
 [Gazing out of the window.] Oh, for heaven's sake, 
 don't be cutting ! [Drawing back.] Oh! 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Turning to her.] What's that? 
 
 Florence. 
 [Under her breath.] Tiiere is Coppy. [He rises and 
 Joins her.] In Albemarle Street, outside Viola's. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Yes, it's he. 
 
 Florence. 
 [laking Nevill' s artn.] He has been giving me 
 
LETTY 23 
 
 lunch. [IVith frightened eyes. \ He left me down-stairs — 
 he promised not to wait 
 
 Nevill. 
 Tsha ! 
 
 Florence. 
 I am sorry to bore you, old boy — call a hansom and 
 drive me to my door, will you ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 Certainly. 
 
 \^The cuter- door be it is heard. 
 
 Florence. 
 \Releasing his ar7n\ Your — your young women ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 Probably. 
 
 Florence. 
 \With offended dignity. \ Surely you'll not let me meet 
 them ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 My dear Tiny, I am incapable of anything so shocking. 
 \Indicating the library.^ Go through there into my bed- 
 room ; I'll fetch you in a minute or two, after I have 
 made my excuses, 
 
 \She passes into the library. RuGG, having first 
 knocked at the door, enters from the corridor. 
 
 RUGG. 
 
 \Casti7ig an eye round the room.] Miss Gunning. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Show Miss Gunning in. 
 
 I RuGG zvithdraws. 
 
24 LETTY 
 
 Florence. 
 
 \Peeping into the room — in low, indignant tones.] It's 
 disgraceful of you, Nevill ! 
 
 [//e laughs. She disappears as RuGG returns 
 with ' Hilda Gunning. Hilda is a tall, 
 comely, showily dressed young womaii with an 
 opulent physique a7id heavy., languorous eyes. 
 She speaks with a drawl which she has con- 
 tracted from the aristocratic customers of JMrs. 
 Wat kins, moves in an ijidolent way, ami has 
 the aspect generally of one who takes life easily. 
 Rugg retires. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Shaking hands with her.] How do you do ? 
 
 Hilda. 
 Middling, thanks. I had a raging toothache all the 
 morning, but I'm rid of it now. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Demurely.] Glad. 
 
 Hilda. 
 [Turning her sleepy eyes upon him.] It's that back 
 tooth — the one I was talking to you about the other day. 
 [Reproachfully.] You've forgotten. 
 
 Nevill. 
 As if I could do so ! 
 
 Hilda. 
 [Apologetically.] I thought, you might have, being 
 busy. Madame Watkins accommodated me by lending 
 me her Nervine. [Loftily.] She's not a bad old fat sort, 
 really. Where are the girls .-* 
 
LETTY 25 
 
 Nevill. 
 You are the first to honor me. ^Referring to hey sim- 
 shaiie.\ May I reheve you of your ? 
 
 Hilda. 
 Well, somebody must be first, I always maintain. 
 \Shakmg out the lace of her sunshade as she yields posses- 
 sion of it.] Effective, isn't it .'* 
 
 Nevill. 
 Most effective. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Not in the least magasang. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Magasin f 
 
 Hilda. 
 That's what Madame claims for every article we pro- 
 duce at our place — be it what it may, she says, there's 
 nothing magasang about it. [^Pointing to the sunshade.] 
 You wouldn't take that for soiled, would you? 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Politely incredulous?^ Soiled ! Impossible ! 
 
 Hilda. 
 \With a nod.] Slightly. Young ladies in business 
 have such exceptional opportunities. ^Displaying herself 
 languidly .] This bodice was designed for the Honorable 
 Mrs. Copeland. A friend of yours? 
 
 Nevill. 
 I grieve, no. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Thought she might be. Good form, isn't it? 
 
26 LETTY 
 
 Nevill. 
 Absolutely. 
 
 Hilda. 
 She threw it back on our hands. A glance shows you 
 it isn't magasang. Now, this skirt I'm wearing 
 
 Nevill. 
 Exquisite. 
 
 Hilda. 
 
 ^Discovering the birthday-feast a?id advancing to the 
 table.] Oh, 1 declare! 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 [Laying the sunshade aside on the right. \ Eh ? 
 
 Hilda. 
 {Inspecting the cake.] " Letty. Many Happy Re- 
 turns " ! How splendidly you do things ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 An exceedingly modest banquet. 
 
 Hilda. 
 But money will do anything, won't it? This'll quite 
 throw my party into the shade. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Your ? 
 
 Hilda. 
 I'm giving a party to Letty later in the afternoon, at 
 home. I hve in the next house to hers, you know. 
 
 Nevill. 
 I know. 
 
LETTY 27 
 
 Hilda. 
 What am I thinking of— you've often put her down at 
 my door, haven't you ? [ 77ie bell of the outer door is 
 heard again.^ There they are, I expect. [Sitting, in a 
 chair on the left.^ So I considered it pohte to invite tlie 
 cliaps lodging in both houses — Letty's and mine. I sup- 
 pose you wouldn't pay me the compliment — no, of course 
 you wouldn't. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Gallantly.] My dear Hilda ! 
 
 Hilda. 
 Five-thirty I've asked 'em for ; but we shall go on for 
 as long as we're happy. 
 
 Nevill. 
 It would afford me the utmost pleasure — er — if I find 
 that my engagements permit 
 
 Hilda. 
 
 Well, you'll see how you feel, won't you? 
 
 [RuGG reappears, followed by Marion Allardyce, 
 a plainly dressed young woman, frank in bear- 
 ing and blunt in speech. RuGG withdraws. 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Shaking hands with Marion.] Is Letty not with you ? 
 
 Marion. 
 Her hat didn't come home, and she had to tear off 
 after it. She will be here soon. \To Hilda. j Good- 
 afternoon, dear. 
 
 Nevill. 
 I am going to behave very rudely, I fear. A rather 
 pressing matter has arisen which necessitates my leaving 
 you for a few minutes. I throw myself on your mercy. 
 
28 LETTY 
 
 Hilda. 
 Don't you worry about us. 
 
 Marion. 
 We'll tell Letty. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Beg her to forgive me. {Glancing ioivards the adjoin- 
 ing room.] There are some picture-papers in there. I 
 can't apologize sufficiently. {At the door on the left. \ A 
 quarter of an hour at the furthest. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Ta-ta ! 
 
 \^He leaves tJicni, closing the door itpo7i them. 
 
 Marion. 
 {Taking off her gloves l\ Picture-papers! Why do 
 gentlemen always treat girls in our position as if we're 
 unintelligent children ? 
 
 Hilda. 
 {Rising.\ Do they? Well, / don't object to being 
 treated as a child, as long as I'm handsomely treated. 
 \Pointi7ig to the banquet and moving awaj'.] Did you 
 ever see anything more recherchy ? 
 
 Marion. 
 {Disdaijifully.] Sugar and spice and all things nice ! 
 
 Hilda. 
 Oh, you never have a good word for him. [Enteiing 
 the library.'] He couldn't be more attentive to us if he 
 tried ; that's enough for me. 
 
 Marion. 
 {Bending over the cake to read the inscription, and rais- 
 ing her voice so that it reaches Hilda.] Bosh i you and 
 
LETTV 29 
 
 I are merely made use of, Hilda. Letty isn't the kind of 
 girl to come to his rooms unprotected, supposing he 
 wished her to do so. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Thev are elegant rooms, too ! This is the first squint 
 I've had at his snuggery. I could do with diggings like 
 these, Marion. 
 
 ]\lARION. 
 
 \Ironica//y.] Ha! you'll be able to be a constant vis- 
 itor here when Letty is Mrs. NeviU Letchmere. 
 Hilda. 
 
 He'd give his wife a house, I should fancy. After all, 
 these are only bachelor-quarters. 
 
 Marion. 
 \Caniiiny blowing into her gloves previous to folding 
 them neatly and putting them into a bag suspended from 
 her waist.] I forgot ; it will be a mansion in Belgrave 
 Square at the very least ! 
 
 Hilda. 
 {Appearing in the doorway.] Funnier things have hap- 
 pened. 
 
 Marion. 
 Oh, I've no patience with either you or Letty. Hon- 
 estly, Hilda— you don't believe at the bottom of your 
 heart that Mr. Letchmere's intentions are serious? 
 
 Hilda. 
 {Returning to Marion.] Why shouldn't I ? She be- 
 lieves it, I'm certain. 
 
 Marion. 
 \ Sitting, on the right of the table on the left—a7igrily.\ 
 Oh! 
 
30 LETTY 
 
 Hilda, 
 It's so easy to throw cold water. Watch him ! The 
 proper respect he pays her! What better sign can you 
 have that a chap means well by a girl ? \Removmg her 
 gloves in a leisurely way.] He hasn't even gone the length 
 of kissing her. 
 
 Marion. 
 [Quie/ly.] Who's your authority ? 
 
 Hilda. 
 She. 
 
 Marion. 
 She.? 
 
 Hilda. 
 Last night, after he'd driven her home from Earl's 
 Court, she ran in to my place to show me her frock. We 
 sat jawing about the exhibition till my lamp burned itself 
 out, and then, all of a sudden, without leading up to it, 
 she jumped up and hooked her arm through mine and 
 said, "Hilda!" — precisely in that tone of voice — 
 " Hilda !" she said 
 
 Marion. 
 Yes? 
 
 Hilda. 
 *'What is it?" I said. " Hilda," she said, " girls like 
 me — high-spirited, fairly good-looking girls who unex- 
 pectedly find themselves on their own — they're liable to 
 a lot of temptations, aren't they?" "Oh, I dun'no," I 
 said. "Yes, they are," she said; "they've no end of 
 temptations, whatever their beginnings may have been, 
 to demean themselves to the level of the common people 
 
 they're thrown with. And so I thank my God- " she 
 
 said, " I thank my God I've never yet permitted any man 
 
LETTY 31 
 
 to kiss me — never!" ''No man?" I said, naturally 
 curious. " No man," she said ; " I thank God," she 
 said, "that I can say that to my husband, whenever he 
 comes along, truthfully." "Mr. Letchmere isn't com- 
 mon," I said, pumping her; "you're not making an 
 exception then, just now," I said, " in favor of //zw f " 
 The words were hardly out of my mouth before I saw 
 her eyes blazing, pitch-dark as it was — the haughty little 
 puss! " Your acquaintance with the manners of gentle- 
 men is evidently extremely limited! " she said, and the 
 next thing I heard was the banging of my street-door. 
 
 \^17iere is a brief pause w/iiie she fussily consigns 
 her gloves to a pocket which she discovers with 
 difficulty at the bottom of her skirt. 
 
 Marion. 
 I'm glad. She has ceased chattering to me; she 
 thinks I'm unsympathetic. I'm glad. Still, all that 
 doesn't prove that Letty's husband is to take the form of 
 Mr. Letchmere, does it? 
 
 Hilda. 
 
 [Seating herself on the left of the table on the right. \ It's 
 a good sign — a jolly good sign. 
 
 Marion. 
 It isn't as though Mr. Letchmere is a silly boy, Hilda. 
 He's a man of — what? — thirty? And it's no very un- 
 common occurrence for a selfish fellow of his age and 
 position to allow himself to be fascinated and diverted for 
 a while by a girl of the Letty sort 
 
 Hilda. 
 
 The Letty sort ! 
 
 Marion. 
 Intensely pleasure-loving ; a girl whose face beams 
 like a kid's at the idea of a dance, a theatre, the most 
 
32 LETTF 
 
 trivial aiiiHsement. I can quite understand the attraction 
 such a nature lias for a certain order of man, and no 
 harm need come of it if only tlie man is fairly decent, and 
 the girl is cute enough to accept his devotions for what 
 
 they are worth. But marriage ! 
 
 [A paper-ktiife lies upon the table. Hilda picks 
 it lip and trims her nails with it as she talks. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Ouf ! how you preach ! Noo verrong, as Ma Watkins 
 is fond of observing ; noo verrong ! 
 
 Marion. 
 No, vi'hen it comes to matrimony, my dear, it isn't a 
 Letty your gentleman makes for — your gentleman who 
 has got over his calf-days — however circumspect and 
 ■well-conducted some of his Letties may have shown 
 themselves. In marrying, he is careful to select a per- 
 son from his own sphere ; and the Letties have tlie grati- 
 fication of eventually meeting him promenading Bond 
 Street or Piccadilly accompanied by a styhsh, inanimate 
 scrag with no hips to speak of and a beaky nose. 
 
 Hilda. 
 I should describe Letty as stylish, in spite of her clothes 
 being distinctly magasajig. And she's what you'd term 
 a lady, by rights. 
 
 Marion. 
 \Rising.\ In Mr. Letchmere's sense ! 
 
 Hilda. 
 Her father was a solicitor. 
 
 Marion. 
 
 \Walking away^l Struck off the rolls for something or 
 another. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Well, so are heaps of solicitors. 
 
LETTY 33 
 
 Marion. 
 \Looking Old of the further window^ At any rate, the 
 sooner Mr. Letchmere plays Prince Charming, or tires of 
 his sport, the better. You'll grant tiiat? 
 
 Hilda. 
 \Laying the paper-knife aside. ^ By Jove, yes! She's 
 getting herself into a pretty pickle in the meantime — 
 what! She's been borrowing money right and left, 
 hasn't she? 
 
 Marion. 
 Don't ask me. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Oh, I know for a fact that she's loaned a fiver from the 
 little oddment who has the floor under mine 
 
 Marion. 
 The photogi'apher. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Dick Perry, the photographer. \Rising and moving to 
 the table on the left.\ And I've a shrewd notion she's 
 touched Ordish and young Neale for a trifle. 
 
 Marion. 
 [Leaving the window.] Yes, I'm afraid she is dread- 
 fully in debt _ 
 
 Hilda. 
 
 [ Taking up a decanter of red zvine, and sniffing its con- 
 tents anxiously. ] It's all right ; I thought it might have 
 been claret. 
 
 Marion. 
 \^At the table on the right.\ And ill — ill into the bargain. 
 
 Hilda. 
 [^Replacing the decanter.] Ill ? 
 
£4 LETTY 
 
 Marion. 
 I didn't mention it to hwi — but when she returned 
 home an hour ago, after rushing out for her hat, she 
 quite frightened me. If she hadn't clung on to the chest 
 
 of drawers ! [Siiting, behind the table on the right.\ 
 
 I called on the doctor on my way here ; that's why I 
 sneaked off without her. 
 
 Hilda, 
 Doctor? 
 
 Marion. 
 She's as weak as a rat, Hilda. Can you be surprised ? 
 She has been half-starving herself ever since she has 
 been friendly with him. 
 
 Hilda. 
 
 [Opening her eyes widely for the first time.] Starving 
 herself! 
 
 Marion. 
 Almost every penny — money earned and money bor- 
 rowed — has been spent upon her back these last two or 
 three weeks. 
 
 Hilda. 
 {Advanci7tg to Marion, awe-stricken.'] Great Scot ! 
 I'm hanged if I could go as far as that, much as I might 
 be spoons on a chap. 
 
 Marion. 
 You couldn't. 
 
 Hilda. 
 
 A girl ought always to remember what she owes to 
 
 herself, I consider. [Going to the settee 07i the fight aJid 
 
 comfortably settliitg hejself a?nong the pillows.] Why, 
 
 even to-day I've had my usual — though I've provided a 
 
LETrr 35 
 
 thick tea for my party and guessed there' d be hght re- 
 freshment here. 
 
 Marion. 
 Your usual tinned lobster and pound of moist straw- 
 berries, and your big bottle of stout, I suppose ? Ha ! 
 
 Marion. 
 [Severt'/y.] I don't see what there is to titter at. 
 
 [ T/ie oiiier-door bell rings, 
 
 Marion. 
 \Rising.\ Hark! 
 
 Hilda. 
 [Puftmg her feet upon the settee. ^ But there, one 
 mustn't blame her. She's got to look her best, by hook 
 or by crook. It's her chance. 
 
 Marion. 
 [^Listenrng at the door on the left.\ Her chance. I 
 wonder ! 
 
 Hilda. 
 [Complacejitly.^ What a romance it would be ! The 
 httle hussy — I hope to goodness it comes off! 
 
 Marion. 
 
 \Opening the door suddenly and calling?)^ Letty ! 
 
 \She darts away, along the corridor, returning im- 
 mediately with Letty Shell — a slender but 
 well-shaped girl, with a skin that is almost 
 colorless. The transparetit whiteiiess of her 
 high brow and thin cheeks is heightened by the 
 glow of her eyes, zvhich are dark a7id eager, 
 and the extraordinary rediiess of her full lips. 
 She tvears a frock of flowered jnuslin, a large 
 hat, and a ruffle of soft material flowing front 
 her shoulders. 
 
3G LETTY 
 
 Marion. 
 [Z^Letty.] Mr. Letchmeie has been obliged to go 
 out for a quarter-of-an-hour. We're to ask you to ex- 
 cuse him. 
 
 Letty. 
 I'm punctual, aren't I ? he's not cross? 
 
 Marion. 
 Cross — no. A pressing matter, he called it. 
 
 Letty. 
 
 {Running to Hilda, and kissijig her.^ How are you — 
 
 [in a whisper\ huffy with me for being short with you 
 last night ? 
 
 Hilda, 
 Stand up. 
 
 Letty. 
 {Displaying her dress. J Well ? 
 
 Hilda. 
 Not bad. 
 
 Letty. 
 {Mischievously. '\ Rather mctgasin, eh ? 
 
 Hilda. 
 
 Oh, it's all very fine ! 
 
 {Discovering the preparations for the feast, Letty 
 advajices to the table breathlessly. 
 
 Letty. 
 Oh ! oh ! {Reading the iftscfiption.'] " Letty. Many 
 Happy Returns of the Day "—of my birthday ! {Sitt/?ig 
 at the table, f?'st in one chair, then in af7otherJ\ Flow ex- 
 cessively kind of Mr. Letchmere ! What a superb cake ! 
 
LETTV 37 
 
 Hilda. 
 [lVi//i her drawl.l More like a wedding-cake. 
 Letty. 
 
 Isj^'t it ! [/;/ so7>ie cotifusion.'] Do look at these 
 
 roses ! This is real old Venetian glass I 
 Hilda. 
 If you take my advice, you'll keep quiet. You've 
 been feeHng queer already, I hear. 
 Letty. 
 [Rising and facing Marion.] You haven't told Mr. 
 Letchmere ? 
 
 Marion. 
 
 No. 
 
 Letty. 
 : \Flutteringly.'\ Men dislike the idea of sickly women. 
 
 Marion. 
 It's entirely your own fault if you are sickly. 
 
 Letty. 
 \ Passing her hands over her face.'] Ha ! there's the 
 advantage of belonging to the palhd order of humanity— 
 your appearance doesn't give you away. 
 
 Marion. 
 Don't deceive yourself, my dear ; only yesterday I 
 overheard Mr. Mandeville putting questions about you 
 to that woman who sits at the desk behind mine. 
 Letty. 
 About me ? 
 
 Marion. 
 He's curious to know what the devil ails you. 
 
38 LETTY 
 
 Letty. 
 Impertinence ! 
 
 Marion. 
 The color isn't so continually in those red lips of yours 
 as it used to be, he has noticed. 
 
 Letty. 
 {Moving towards Hilda with her head in the air. ] The 
 cad ! 
 
 Hilda. 
 Mandeville? He's the member of your firm who 
 makes a pet of you, isn't he ? 
 
 Letty. 
 
 Ah, be silent ! [Sitting, on the left of the table on the 
 right.] For mercy's sake, let us banish the horrid shop 
 for a few hours! \Removing her ruffle and exhibiting it 
 to Hilda.] I bought this at Floyd's summer-sale. If 
 you turn up your nose at it ! 
 
 Marion. 
 \0n the left.\ We earn our bread-and-butter at the 
 " horrid shop " ; while we do that we might refrain from 
 abusing the berth. 
 
 Letty. 
 [Laying the mffle aside.\ La, la, la ! here's Polly on her 
 platform again ! 
 
 Hilda. 
 [Droivsily.^ No squabbling ; the weather's too hot. 
 
 Letty. 
 I apologize, Polly. [Taking off her gloves. \ Certainly 
 we oughtn't to be so wicked as to speak slightingly of 
 Dugdale's. Oh, no ; not by no means ! On the con- 
 
LETTY 39 
 
 trary, we should fall down and worship the picturesque 
 mahogany counter behind which we pursue our usetul 
 and elevating toil. We ought even to admire the tall 
 man in the artistic chocolate-and-gold livery who guards 
 the sacred portals. And, above all, we should reverence 
 the beautiful flat feet and the dulcet tones of Mr. Mike 
 Cohen with his "good mornin', young ladieth ! " ; and 
 the pretty broken-English of Mr. Hammerstein ; and the 
 variegated waistcoats, and the eternal white spats and 
 varnished boots, of Mr. Bernard Mandeville ! {^Putting 
 her gloves upon the table and rearranging the details of her 
 costume.'] La, la, la ! 
 
 Marion. 
 The atmosphere of Dugdale's isn't the most savory, I 
 confess. But you dwell too much on externals, Letty. 
 If you were employed elsewhere you'd be irritated to the 
 same degree. 
 
 Letty. 
 [^Lightly.] I dare say. 
 
 Marion. 
 "Whereas good health, and the work to do, are the 
 great essentials. 
 
 Letty. 
 To my imperfect intelligence, it seems that the first es- 
 sential is to be capable of resigning oneself to a scheme 
 of things which ordains that some women shall spend 
 their lives in perpetual fag while others — our more fortu- 
 nate -isters, as they are styled — enjoy freedom and lux- 
 ury galore. Well, Polly dear, you are so constituted ; 
 you are content to find yourself rattling your chains 
 every, every, every morning at nine-thirty, fine or 
 
 foggy ! 
 
 Marion. 
 The prospect doesn't scare me, since I'm in for it. 
 
40 LETTY 
 
 Letty. 
 Exactly, but I — I'm different. My sins! once I was 
 certain I was doomed to grow old as an offtce-drudge I 
 — [ivith a catch in her breath^ I'd throw myself on my 
 bed and deliberately perish! I wouldn't stir again ; I'd 
 just lie there and cease to breathe ! 
 
 \Risi7ig, she returns to the table oti the left, and 
 stands taking in the pretty objects i(p07i it with 
 sparkling eyes. 
 
 Hilda. 
 
 \Rousi7ig herself and yawJting, good-hiwioredly. ] Hear, 
 hear! What's that? 
 
 Letty. 
 Oh, but I've always felt convinced I was born to a full 
 share of the joys of this world ! Even the smash at home 
 didn't shake that belief. \Involu7itarily glancing roimd 
 the roo7n.] Ah — h — h ! 
 
 Marion. 
 [ Watchi7tg her narrowly.] What is your definite notion 
 of the joys of this world, Letty ? 
 
 Letty. 
 \Latighing evasively.'] Ha, ha, ha ! It doesn't em- 
 brace cold-shouldering the chums of one's struggling 
 days. That isn't in the programme. \Linki71g herar77i i7i 
 Marion's affectiomtely.] Remember, you two, I'm not 
 the girl to forget — when my star does shine ! \Extend- 
 i7ig a ha7id to Hilda.] Neither of you would give me the 
 
 go-by if good luck came your way 
 
 \The door on the left ope7is, and Nevill enters 
 briskly. He co77tes to Letty a7td takes her 
 hands, his voice softe7ii7ig to the te7ider note 
 whe7i he add7-esses her. 
 
LETTY 41 
 
 Nevill. 
 My dear child, you must think me very discourteous. 
 I hope Marion and Hilda have explained 
 
 Letty. 
 Yes, It doesn't matter. It's so sweet of you to be 
 troubled with us at all. 
 
 Nevill. 
 \PoinHng to the ca^e.] The sleepless nights this has 
 cost me ! And its beauties have been discounted during 
 my absence ! 
 
 Letty. 
 [A/ the table.\ You won't cut it ! 
 
 Hilda. 
 Why, it would only spoil. 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 \Gomg to a cabinet.'] And fortunately there are sou- 
 venirs of a more enduring kind. 
 
 [He produces from the cabinet thj-ee small cases of 
 jewelry. Selecting one, he pfese?its it to Letty. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [As he does so.'\ Many Happy Returns of the L^ay ! 
 
 Letty. 
 
 \Falteringly.'\ Mr. Letchmere ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 [OJ^ering one of the remaining boxes to Marion.] 
 You never confide in me, Marion, but I suspect that you 
 also indulge in a birthday at annually recurrent dates, in 
 a serious fashion. 
 
 Marion. 
 I — I'd prefer not 
 
42 LETTY 
 
 Nevill. 
 Cruel ! 
 
 Hilda. 
 
 [^Shocked.^ Marion ! 
 
 Marion. 
 [Accepting the box reluctantly. \ Oh, if you [mov- 
 ing away.] I am exceedingly obliged to you. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Giving the third box to Hilda.] Hilda ? 
 
 Hilda. 
 [Taking it promptly.] Thanks. It is nice of you. 
 [Opening the box.] Oh, just what I wanted ! 
 
 Nevill, 
 [ To Letty — pointing to a tnirror stajiding iipoti the 
 
 piano . ] T h e re ' s a m i r ro r 
 
 [Letty has opened her box and has been gazing 
 at a b7'ooch it contains. She now crosses the 
 room, and, with the aid of the mirror, fastens 
 the brooch at her throat. 
 
 Hilda. 
 
 [Cotisigni7ig her box, with a liberal display of silk petti- 
 coat, to her pocket— to Nevill. J / shan't, till I get 
 home ; I'm not going to risk dropping mine. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Indicating a chair.] Will you sit here? 
 
 Hilda. 
 [Seating herself. \ Anywhere. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Pointing to the settee.] Marion ? [Marion takes 
 
LETTY 43 
 
 her place silnti/y.] We'll drink Letty's health in red 
 wine, and atterwards atone for our excess in iced coffee. 
 
 Hilda. 
 
 [Her elbows on the table.] Letty cuts the cake, 1 sup- 
 pose .'' 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Picking up a knife.\ Certainly, as heroine of the 
 
 occasion. [ Tunwtg to Letty.] Letty 
 
 [He finds her seated upo7i the settee on the right, 
 with gray lips. Her eyes are closed, her hands 
 lie helplessly in her lap, and her bosom is 
 heaving. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Dropping the knife, and advajicing to her.] Letty ! 
 
 [ laking her ha?id.] Letty ! 
 
 [^he struggles to her feet and sways ; he catches 
 her. Hilda and Marion rise atid come to 
 them. 
 
 Marion. 
 
 Give her to me. [Supporting Letty.] I've got you 
 
 Marion— Polly — — 
 
 Nevill. 
 [To Hilda.] Water. 
 
 [Hilda returns to the table, and pours out ivater 
 from a carafe into a tiwibler. 
 
 Marion. 
 
 [Placing Letty in a chair.] She will be better in a 
 moment. 
 
 Nevill. 
 The heat in this room is insufferable. My man must 
 have neglected to lower the sun-bhnds. [laking up the 
 
 scent-spray.] Her hat 
 
 [Marion removes 'Lis.tty' s hat while UiLTiA ad- 
 ministers the water. 
 
44 LETTY 
 
 Nevill. 
 Poor little lady ! how unfortunate ! 
 
 [//^ sprays her brow. She raises a ha7id feelly 
 with a gasp. 
 
 Marion. 
 Letty 
 
 Hilda. 
 Dear old girl 
 
 \She opens her eyes and looks about her. 
 
 Nevill. 
 That's right. 
 
 {She gets upon her feet again with the help of 
 Marion. 
 
 Letty. 
 \After a pause.] Ah! . . . Ah! . . . \To 
 Nevill, smiling. \ 1 beg your pardon. {Dropping her 
 
 head upon Marion's shoulder. \ Polly . ! 
 
 [ The bell of the outer door is heard. 
 
 Marion. 
 This is her second attack of faintness to-day. Let her 
 be quite quiet for a little while ; then I'll take her home. 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Going to the library door.] It's cooler in here. 
 
 [Marion, carrying Letty' s hat and collecting 
 the rest of her belojigijtgs, leads her towa?-ds 
 the libj'ary. 
 
 Letty. 
 [Weakly.'] What a fool I am ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 {To Marion.] I'll have a cab waiting. 
 
LETTY 45 
 
 Marion. 
 
 Thank you. 
 
 [Marion aitd Letty enter the library and dis- 
 appear. Nevill crosses to the mantelpiece 
 and rings the bell. 
 
 Hilda. 
 {Lingering ruefully?^ This is an upset, upon my word. 
 
 Nevill. 
 \At the table on the left, surveying the spread.^ Sym- 
 bohc of hfe, my dear Hilda — save that, as a rule, the 
 
 regret follows the cutting of the cake ! But why 
 
 shouldn't we drink to Letty ? 
 
 Hilda. 
 Eh? 
 
 Nevill. 
 You and I ? 
 
 Hilda. 
 \With alacrity. ^ The merest sip, then. 
 
 {She closes the library door softly a7id joins him, 
 seating herself with her back to the door on the 
 left. 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Sitting, on the right of the table, and pouring out 
 wine.] That ghastly piece of confectionery — if it pur- 
 sued her to Langham Street you could hack away at it at 
 your tea-party, eh ? 
 
 Hilda. 
 Rather ! {Checking herself.^ It might soften her dis- 
 appointment, mightn't it? 
 
 Nevill. 
 {Raisiiig his glass ] The toast is Letty ! 
 
46 LETTY 
 
 Hilda. 
 She did turn a color. {J^aisifis^ her glass.'] Letty ! 
 
 \^jyiey drifik, she with gusto. 
 
 Hilda. 
 
 [IVi'th conviction.] Port's my wine. \He refills her 
 glass.\ Whatever are you doing? [Raising her glass 
 again.] Letty ! [^Looking at him out of the corner of her 
 eye.] And a good husband to her when the time 
 comes ! 
 
 [RUGG appears, at the door on the left, carrying a 
 card on a salver. He observes the absence of 
 the others with some surprise. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [ To RuGG, sharply.] You have allowed this room to 
 get as hot as hell. 
 
 RUGG. 
 
 Extremely sorry, sir. I should hardly say it was as 
 warm as all that. 
 
 Nevill. 
 We'll not discuss the point. You will have ample op- 
 portunity of testing the accuracy of the simile at some 
 future date. A four-wheeler. 
 
 \_Imtead of leaving the roojn, RuGG closes the 
 door and comes' to Nevill. 
 
 Nevill. 
 What ? 
 
 RUGG. 
 yHanding the card.'] Called twice before to-day, sii, 
 but wouldn't give his name till this moment. 
 
 [Nevill reads the card, at first carelessly, then 
 with an air of interest. 
 
LETTV 47 
 
 Nevill. 
 Does he state his business ? 
 
 RUGG. 
 
 No, sir. Wishes to know when you could favor him 
 with a few minutes' conversation ; tliat's all. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Civil? 
 
 RUGG. 
 
 Perfectly, sir. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [A//er a brief pause ?[ If he should present himself 
 again, and I happen to be disengaged 
 
 RUGG. 
 
 He's here now, sir, if you'd like to appoint a time 
 
 Hilda. 
 {Rising.^ I'll join the other ladies. 
 
 \She drains her glass and moves towards the 
 library door ; V^ynwa. follows her. 
 
 Nevill. 
 \To Hilda.] I've a slight curiosity to see this gentle- 
 man. He'll not detain me long. I'll come to you 
 directly he has left me. 
 
 \She nods and disappears into the library, closing 
 the door behind her. Noiselessly Nevill locks 
 the door and draws the portiere across it. 
 Then, coming upon Hilda's sunshade, he 
 thrusts it out of sight and returns to RuGG. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [^Coolly. ^ Interrupt me in five minutes at the outside. 
 
48 LETTY 
 
 RUGG. 
 
 Very good, sir. 
 
 lAs RuGG withdraws, Nevill goes 'to the table 
 on the left and drops a serviette over the cake. 
 Presently RuGG reenters, followed by Bernard 
 Mandeville — a big, coarse-featured man, of 
 about five-and-thirty, with a heavy moustache, 
 which he pulls at frequejitly, and an uneasy 
 swagger. He is loudly dressed, has a large 
 flower in his button-hole, and wears his hair 
 plastered in decorative fashion upon his fore- 
 head. RuGG disappears, closing the door. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Pawdon the intrusion. Haw ! Mr. Letchmere? 
 
 Nevill. 
 \^0n the right, referring to the card.'] Mr. Mandeville? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 \_Clearing his throat assentingly and shooting his cuffs.] 
 Haw ! Lucky to find you in town, sir. So many ot us 
 make a bolt of it at the week-end nowadays. [Eyeing 
 the table on the left.] I'm not disturbing you at your — 
 haw ! ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 Not at all. I've just been giving a little birthday en- 
 tertainment to a young nephew of mine. Anything I can 
 do for you, Mr. Mandeville ? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Haw ! well, there is, since you put it in that way. I-- 
 haw ! — fancy you're familiar with the name of my firm ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Again referring to the card.] Your firm ? 
 
LETTY 49 
 
 Mandeville. 
 That's my private residence — Acacia Road 
 
 Nevill. 
 St. John's Wood. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Regent's Pawk. But I'm one of the principals of 
 
 Dugdale's 
 
 Nevill. 
 Dugdale's? 
 
 Mandeville, 
 Waterloo Place. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Ah, yes. You're outside brokers, aren't you? [P/eas- 
 an//y.] There was an interesting case in the newspapers 
 a week or two ago in which you were involved. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 ^Depositing his hat and cane upon a chair on the left\ 
 Haw ! our action against Lady Bretton. The disreputa- 
 ble old faggot had the impudence to repudiate. her liabil- 
 ity to us — pleaded the gambUng act 
 
 Nevill. 
 And the jury were unsympathetic towards you, if I 
 
 recollect. 
 
 IVIandeville. 
 \ Turning a chair to face Nevill.] Faugh! How- 
 ever, it'll take more than that to make Dugdale's go 
 shut. \Sitii7ig.\ Dugdale's is a big thing, Mr. Letch- 
 mere. 
 
 Nevill. 
 I've no doubt. 
 
50 LETTY 
 
 Mandeville. 
 And that brings us to the — haw ! — httle matter upon 
 wliich I desiah to speak to you. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Ah? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 \Significaiiily.'\ I beheve you are awaah, sir, that it's 
 our custom in Waterloo Place to employ a considerable 
 number of — haw ! — female clerks ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Unconcemedly taking a cigarette from his case, and then 
 qfferiiig the case to Mandeville. J A cigarette ? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Thanks. [Produci?ig a large cigar.] 'Sense me. I 
 promised a friend o' mine I'cf sawmple this weed. \ Ex- 
 hibiting it.] Flor de Cuba — eighty-two shillings. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [GiT/ing him a match.] Plenty for the money. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 You're right. I dare say I could put my hand upon a 
 small parcel of these if you — haw ! ahem ! \Igniti7tg the 
 match upon his trousers.] Yes, sir, a considerable num- 
 ber of female clerks 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Sitting, on the right, and lighting his cio^arette.] Who 
 have very liberal, indulgent employers, i'm sure, Mr. 
 Mandeville. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 \Riting off the end of his cigar.] Haw ! We pay 'cm 
 top salaries — beyond their mawket value, [Regarding 
 
LETTY 51 
 
 Nevill steadily as he lights his cigar. ^ And they're not 
 only over-paid but damned well looked after, Mr. Letch- 
 mere. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Looked after ? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Supervised. We're white men at Dugdale's, sir. We 
 take an active interest in the moral and general welfare 
 of our gals. [Getting rid of the end of his match by throw- 
 ing it under his chair. \ See what I mean ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 Admirable ! What, frankly, I don t see for the mo- 
 ment 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Well, this is where you come in, Mr. Letchmere. 
 You've lately struck up an acquaintance with a young 
 person — [pulling at his moiistache\ haw ! — one of our 
 staff— Letty—Letty Shell 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Flicking the ash from his ciga rette. ] Oh ? A n d h o w h a ve 
 you contrived to acquire that item of knowledge ? Ah, 
 yes ! your active interest in the moral and general wel- 
 fare 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Purely accidentally , sir. We're not spies at Dugdale's, 
 if that's what you insinuate. 
 
 Nevill. 
 My dear Mr. Mandeville ! 
 
 Mandeville. 
 I — haw ! — I've suspected something was up with the 
 
52 LETTY 
 
 gal ; but it wasn't till yesterday, when a fellow-clerk of 
 Letty's brought lue the tale 
 
 Nevill. 
 The tale ? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 That the minx was carrying-on with a young swell liv- 
 ing in rooms here — it wasn't till yesterday that I moved 
 in the affair personally. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Moved ? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Made a few inquiries 
 
 Nevill. 
 As to the — [with a wry face] swell ? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 I looked upon it — haw ! — as my duty to sift the rumor. 
 
 Nevill. 
 I see. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 But I haven't breathed a word to her on the subject. 
 I preferred to come to you direct, sir — man to man, gen- 
 tleman to gentleman, Mr. Letchmere. 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Affab/y.] And very prudent and scrupulous of you. 
 Very discreet and punctilious of you, indeed. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 {Ufibendifjg.'] Oh, I don't say, sir, that it's anything 
 more on your part than a bit of a U-6Wc—po7{r passer le 
 temps, don'tcherknow. I'm a man of honor myself. 
 
LETTY 53 
 
 and with me every other gentleman is a man of 
 honor till I find hnn out. That's my system— berny 
 
 Mandeville's system 
 
 Nevill. 
 One that reveals a generous character, Mr. Mande- 
 ville. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 But what you're doing, motive or no motive, ain't 
 beneficial to the gal. 
 
 Nevill. 
 No ? You pain me. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 She's a respectable gal enough, but you can't class 
 her with the common-or-garden office Miss who's happy 
 and content on tlnee evenings a week at a Polyteclmic 
 and a long bike-ride on Sundays. She's ahve all over, 
 is Letty. And a girl of her tastes and inchnadons can't 
 stand being petted and spoiled and made a duchess of. 
 She gets beyond herself, loses her head, forgets which 
 side her bread's buttered. See what I mean? 
 
 Nevill. 
 Nothing could be more explicit. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 [F/af/€rm^/y.\ Haw ! I felt pretty certain I'd only to 
 give a gent'leman hke you a gentle hint. Vou don't 
 want to spoil the stoopid little jade's opportunities— why 
 
 should you? 
 
 Nevill. 
 Opportunities ? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Queer her prospects 
 
64 LETTY 
 
 Nevill. 
 Prospects ! Big sounding words, aren't they, Mr, 
 Mandeville, to apply to the condition of a young kidy 
 vvlio drops a paltry five-and-tvventy shilhngs into her 
 purse every Saturday and is aheady remunerated be- 
 ) ond her market value ? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 
 \Unc oiiif art ably .'\ Haw ! Well, she may have pros- 
 pects outblde the office. \PuUuig at his moustache again\ 
 1 don't go to the extent ot saying she has, mark you 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Searchingly.\ Outside the office? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 \His ztneasiness ificreasing.^ Oh, I've no objection to 
 own up, it it'll clear the air 
 
 Own up \ 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 
 Has Letty — er — ever let out to you, by any chawnce, 
 that she's — haw ! — rather a favorite of mine ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 I think I do recall a remark of Miss Shell's to the ef- 
 fect that she feared she monopolized more than a fair 
 share of moral supervision at tlie hands of a member of 
 your firm. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 [^Sutkify.'] Cheeky little baggage ! That's her funny 
 
 way of expressing herself {^rising.'] Oh, damn it — as 
 
 one gentleman to another — I — I've a strong partiality for 
 the gal ! There, now you've got it straight ! 
 
LET'JT 65 
 
 Nevill, 
 
 [A//er a short silence, during which Mandeville stands 
 glaring into space — dryly.\ 1 iippreciate warmly the priv- 
 ilege of being in your confidence, Mr. Mandeville 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Yes, it's between ourselves, of course. 
 
 Nevill. 
 {Getting upon his feet indolently.^ But have you yet 
 conveyed to Miss Shell, in a formal manner, the senti- 
 ments of your tender regard, may I ask? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Er — haw ! — not yet. 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 [ With a satirical raising of the brows. \ Not ! 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Tliat's a business requiring — haw! — a good deal of — 
 haw ! — consideration. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Consideration ? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 [ Worrying his moustache once more.\ When a ^al's be- 
 neath you in the social scale — a clerk in your office — see 
 what I mean ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 Clearly. And pending your solution of these misgiv- 
 ings, you propose that I should 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Keep off the grass. Keep off the grass. 
 
56 LETTY 
 
 Nevill. 
 [ With an ugly smile.^ To make way for you ? \Look- 
 ing at his watch.] To make way for you. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 {Begi7ini7tg to bluster.\ Haw! Why not, sir? At all 
 events, I am qualified to tell her I'm fairly gone on her 
 — honorably gone on her — if I choose to do it. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Quahfied ? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Which is more than you are, Mr. Letchmere. I afji a 
 single man ; you ain't, bear in mind. 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Impertnrbably^ Very true. Your statement of our 
 relative positions is a marvel of lucidity. So clear is it, 
 my dear Mr. Mandeville, that upon reflection you must 
 perceive how illogical your present attitude is. Surely 
 the fact that Miss Letty is a strictly virtuous young 
 woman, and that I am, from force of circumstance, de- 
 barred from standing upon any footing with her but one 
 of friendship 
 
 Mandeville. 
 A pretty friend for a virtuous gal — a feller separated 
 from his wife ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 Surely there is nothing in this fact to act as a deterrent 
 to your honorable advances — advances obviously flatter- 
 ing to the lady. Go ahead, therefore, my good sir ; 
 bring your courting, at your own proper time, to its legit- 
 imate and, I trust, propitious climax. But meanwhile — 
 pray allow me the reminder — meanwhile the slightest 
 attempt at interference in Miss Shell's private affairs is a 
 gross, an unwarrantable impertinence. 
 
LETir 57 
 
 Mandeville. 
 
 Oh, that's your tone, is it ! 
 
 [77ie door oti the left opens, ««(/RUGG enters, car- 
 rying "^"SNiiA.^ '6 hat and gloves. Having pre- 
 sented the hat and gloves to Nevill, the man 
 retires to the corridor. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Haw! \Taking up his hat and cane.] Well, I've 
 given you the opportunity of behaving as a gentleman, 
 Mr. Letchmere 
 
 Nevill. 
 You speak as if such opportunities were rare, Mr. 
 Mandeville. They occur daily. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 [Advancing to Nevill.] By James, though, she 
 shall hear a few pleasant stories I've picked up concern- 
 ing you, and don't you forget it ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 They will lose httle in the narration. Good-after- 
 noon- 
 
 Mandeville. 
 
 [Ataloss.\ Haw ! I— oh, you be ! Good-day. 
 
 {He goes otit, followed by RuGG. Laying his hat 
 and gloves aside, Nevill sits upon the settee on 
 the right. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [ To himself, between his teeth.] That brute . . . ! 
 that hog . . . ! 
 
 [The outer door slams and RuGG returns. 
 
 RUGG. 
 
 The cab's here, sir. 
 
58 LETTr 
 
 Nevill. 
 See that the ladies haven't to pay the man's fare. 
 
 RUGG. 
 
 Yes, sir. 
 
 [RuGG wiihdraws, closmg the door, and Nevill, 
 first drawing back the portiere, unlocks the 
 library door afid knocks softly. Presently Mar- 
 ion shows herself. 
 
 Nevill. 
 How is she ? 
 
 Marion. 
 
 \Calling.'\ Letty ! 
 
 [Letty appears, dressed for departure, and enters 
 the room with Marion. 
 
 Letty. 
 \To Nevill, smilingly.] I am so ashamed. After 
 your great kindness! \Giving him her ha7id.\ Let me 
 run away and hide myself. 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 \Retaining her hand.] The color is in your lips again. 
 Why need you ? 
 
 Letty. 
 [Fretfitlly.] I've promised Marion I'll lie down for an 
 hour. [To Marion.] Do wake Hilda. [7b Nevill.] 
 She has fallen fast asleep, the lazy-bones. 
 
 [Marion returns to the library. Nevill and 
 Letty talk in subdued voices. 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 \Poi?iting to the cake.] The cake — the egregious 
 bun 
 
LETTY 59 
 
 Letty. 
 You must eat it in solitude, thinking of me. Not as 
 you saw me over there ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 It is to grace Hilda's tea-table. What do you say to 
 my bringing it to Langham Street myself.-* 
 
 Letty. 
 You ! [/« afiutter.^ How flattered they would all be ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 Oh, bother her party ! I look to you to manage that 
 we are left alone, my dear. 
 
 Letty. 
 \Hcr eyes drooping under his gaze. ^ Ha, ha ! As if we 
 were never ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 Yes, but this evening I've something important — 
 \placing his hands upon her shoulders\ especially impor- 
 tant 
 
 Letty. 
 [Finding he does not contijiue — almost inaiidibly.\ Have 
 you . . .? I'll try . . . 
 
 [Suddenly, impelled by an impidse of passion, he 
 draivs her to him and kisses her upon the 
 lips. 
 
 Letty. 
 [Startled.'X Mr. Letchmere . . . ! Oh . . . 
 Mr. Letchmere . . . ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 Sssh ! 
 
 [Marion reenters with Hilda, who is half-awake. 
 Marion is arranging Hilda's hat and tidying 
 her generally. 
 
60 LETTY 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Opening the door on the left.\ Come ; Marion will 
 scold if 1 detain you. \Retufjiing to Letty mid giving 
 her his arm fornially.\ Allow me to put you into your 
 cab, 
 
 \They go out, Marion accompanying them. 
 
 Hilda. 
 [ Gaping.^ Oh — h — h I M y s u n sh a d e ? H e le , \\ h e i e ' s 
 
 my ? [Discovering it.\ I've got it 
 
 [She follows the others, but pauses at the table on 
 the left to give a last look at the birthday fast. 
 She is about to turn aivay when she succumbs 
 to the temptation of helping herself to a ha7uful 
 of sweetmeats a7id cranujiing them into tier 
 mouth. Finally she grabs at a peach and de- 
 parts, diving for her pocket, as the curtain 
 falls. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST ACT. 
 
THE SECOND ACT. 
 
 The scene represents the roof of the house in which Hilda 
 Gunning lodges i?i Langhani Street. At the back is 
 a low parapet-wall ; beyond are other house-tops, and, 
 in the distance, the steeple of the church in Langhani 
 Place and an extensive prospect of London as seen in 
 the golden light of late afternoon. On the right a 
 chimney-stack a^id a dwarf wall mark the division be- 
 tween Miss Gunning's residence and the adjoining 
 premises. On the left the roof slopes up to meet a sim- 
 ilar dwarf wall and chimney-stack ivhich separate 
 .Letty's house from Hilda's, /;/ this slope is an 
 open skylight ; while, further to the left, a portio7i of 
 the roof of Letty's house is shown including a little 
 dormer windozu. 
 
 A windsor-chair stands by the parapet-wall at the 
 back, and upoji the wall an old, colored rug is thrown 
 so as to provide a seat. On the right, nearer the spec- 
 tator, are a basket-chair which has seen its best days 
 and a wooden stool ; on the left, upon the slope, a 
 square of worn carpet, a pillozu, and some dog-eared 
 " novelettes " and magazines. A few pots of flowers 
 partially relieve the griminess of the smroundings. 
 
 Ordish and Neale are seated at the ba^ck, the 
 one upon the parapet wall, the other upon the 
 windsor-chair, playing cards and smoking their 
 pipes. Ordish is a bearded, sallow, saturnine 
 nian of fo7iy, lean of figure and not very pros- 
 perous in appearance. He wea^s a black fvck- 
 coat, a pair of shrunken flannel trousers, and 
 sand-shoes. Neale is a fair, impudent- loo king 
 
62 LETTY 
 
 yoimg fellow dressed in a suit of tweed of a gay 
 pattern. On the right, Richard Perry — a 
 simple, kindly, consequential little person of 
 thirty or thereabouts, with a forehead of abnor- 
 inat developuiejit topped by an extravagant 
 quantity of mouse-colored hair — is adjusting a 
 c amera upon a folding stand ; w/zz/i? Marion z^- 
 sitting upon the square of carpet turning the 
 pages of a magazine, llie church-bells strike 
 the three-quarters-ofan-hour, whereupon she 
 jumps up and, going to the dwatfwall on the 
 left, looks towards the dormer window. 
 
 Neale. 
 {Surveying a hand of cards which Ordish has dealt 
 hvn.\ Pass! 
 
 Ordish. 
 [Throwing his cards down.'\ Oh, pass ! 
 
 Neale. 
 Treble. 
 
 Ordish. 
 \Glooi7iily.'] This is becoming serious. 
 
 Neale. 
 yShi(ffling.^ It is so, cockey. 
 
 [Hilda's head appears, emerging from the sky- 
 light. 
 
 Hilda. 
 I say I what are we waiting for? 
 
 Neale. 
 Letty. 
 
 Perry. 
 Miss Shell. 
 
LETTY 63 
 
 Neale. 
 [To Ordish.] Cut. 
 
 Hilda. 
 \Clambering on to the roof with the aid of Perry.] 
 Where is she ? You must be sinking for your teas, all of 
 you. [7i? Marion.] It's too bad. 
 
 Marion. 
 
 \Making signs to YiYLV>k.\ Hilda 
 
 [Perry retur7ts to his camera atid Hilda joins 
 Marion. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Eh? 
 
 Marion. 
 [In a whisper.'] Dr. Pollard is with her. 
 
 Hilda. 
 
 Oh 
 
 Marion. 
 You make a start. I think I'll hang about the landing 
 in case I'm wanted. 
 
 ^She transfers herself to the roof of her oivn honse, 
 and lets herself in at the dormer windo%v. 
 
 Ordish. 
 [ Calling his hand. ] Misery! 
 
 Neale. 
 You look it. Nap ! 
 
 Ordish. 
 [Bitterly. "l Oh, of course. 
 
 Perry. 
 I ti'ust I shall be permitted to take my picture, Miss 
 
64 LETTY 
 
 Gunning, before we attempt to do justice to your bounti- 
 ful hospitality. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Before ! 
 
 Perry. 
 The light will not serve us subsequently. Pending the 
 arrival of the lagging guest, why shouldn't we roughly 
 design our grouping } \ShiJting the ca7nera.\ I anticipate 
 most excellent results. 
 
 Ordish. 
 [Playing a card.] You can't do it, Neale. 
 
 Neale. 
 [Amioyed.] What d'ye mean by crying Misere with a 
 blooming king in your hand.'' 
 
 Ordish. 
 You've failed to make your Nap ; let that suffice. 
 
 Neale. 
 All right ; there's no occasion to shout about it. 
 
 Perry. 
 \To Ordish and Neale.] Gentlemen, may I trouble 
 you? 
 
 Neale. 
 [Rising, facetiously.] Oh, please, is my hair quite tidy ? 
 
 Ordish. 
 [Also rising — to Neale.] Let me see — you are now my 
 debtor to a trifling amount. 
 
 Neale. 
 Heart alive, I'm not going to fly the country ! [To 
 
LETTY 65 
 
 Perry.] Where do I stand? Mind, it's a stipulation I 
 come out handsome! 
 
 Perry. 
 \^Advanci?ig.'\ I suggest that Miss Gunning embodies 
 the classic conception of Venus rising from the sea ; in 
 other words, that she should be shown issuing from the 
 skylight — ^just the head and shoulders — 
 
 Hilda. 
 
 YW/to has been tyi7ig her shoe-laces.\ What next ! half 
 my gown would be hidden ! 
 
 Perry. 
 \Perplexed.\ Yes, it does entail that drawback. I have 
 it ! \To Hilda, pointing to the square ofca7'Pet.\ 15e good 
 enough to take your position there. \She folloivs his direc- 
 tions.] Mr. Ordish — Mr. Neale — kindly place yourselves 
 at Miss Gunning's feet. 
 
 \They seat themselves accordingly. 
 
 Neale. 
 \Gazing laugiiishingly at Hilda.] May I adopt :ni 
 adoring attitude ? 
 
 Hilda. 
 \Calmlyl\ Don't be a stupid goat, Mr. Neale, if you can 
 help it. 
 
 [Marion and Letty are seen at the dormer win- 
 dow. 
 
 Marion. 
 ICalling.] Hilda! 
 
 Hilda. 
 
 Halloa? 
 
 Marion. 
 [Assisting Letty to scramble through the window- op en- 
 ing.\ We're coming. 
 
66 LETTY 
 
 Letty. 
 [I\fe?rHy.^ Always be last at a party if you aim at 
 ci eating a sensation. 
 
 Neale. 
 \Hmrying to the dwarf wall and giving Letty a 
 hajid.\ All aboard ! all aboard ! 
 
 Letty. 
 Many thanks. 
 
 [Ordish aho rises to greet her and she shakes 
 hands with him. Her eyes sparkle restlessly 
 and her manner indicates tiefves at full tension. 
 
 Letty. 
 
 How are you, Mr. Ordish? \Shaking hands with 
 Perry.] Good-evening. \_Seeing the camera.\ Ah, yes, 
 we're to sit for our portraits, aren't we? \Going to 
 Hilda.] I am dreadfully sorry, dear, really. 
 
 Perry. 
 \Clapping his hands'\ Now, now, the group! Miss 
 Allardyce on Miss Gunning's left, Miss Shell on her 
 right. [Marion and Letty take the places allotted to 
 them.\ Gentlemen, resume your positions. \The men 
 squat again.] Ah, ah ! you grasp my conceit ? The three 
 Graces! [Disappearing deneath his focussing cloth.] The 
 three Graces ! 
 
 Neale. 
 There are four, with Ordish. 
 
 Hilda. 
 [Kicking him gently in the back.] Do shut up. 
 
 Perry. 
 
 [Reappearing.] Miss Allardycc's arm round Miss Gun- 
 ning's waist — [disappearing] I am obliged. 
 
LETTY 67 
 
 Neale. 
 \ Hugging himself.] Eugh ! I've no lady. What am I 
 to do with my arms? 
 
 Ordish. 
 You couldn't contrive to hide your mug behind 'em, 
 could you ? 
 
 Neale. 
 Jimmy, this is going to be one of your witty evenings. 
 
 Perry. 
 [Reappearmg.] Miss Shell's hand caressingly upon 
 Miss Gunning's shoulder 
 
 Letty. 
 Willingly. 
 
 Perry. 
 {Disappearing.'] I am obliged. 
 
 Hilda. 
 {To Letty, quietly.] What does the doctor say ? 
 
 Letty. 
 {Turning her head aside quickly.] Sssh, sssh ! 
 
 Perry. 
 {Reappearing once mo-re and proceeding to insert his 
 dark slide.] Ladies— Mr. Ordish — Mr. Neale — I have 
 pleasure, and pride, in informing you that there is every 
 prospect of my obtaining an effective picture, a strikingly 
 beautiful picture 
 
 Neale. 
 Spare my blushes ! 
 
 Perry. 
 {Standing before the camera.] Only one word, and that 
 
68 LETTY 
 
 on the subject of Expression, Facial Expression — the dis- 
 position, in short, of the facial muscles. You will have 
 observed — your experience will have taught \ ou — that it 
 is the practice of the majority of professed artists m pho- 
 tography to mstruct their sitters to smile — to — ah — look 
 pleasant — irrespective of the mental condition of the, 
 probably, unhappy subjects of their operations. My 
 methods are totally different. Smile, even radiantly, if 
 you can do so with a semblance of spontaneity. But, 
 for heaven's sake, let us not have a mechanical smile ; 
 let us not have a smile which recalls too vividly the 
 "guinea set" of the cheap dentist's show-case. 
 
 [iViARiON a7id Letty laugh. 
 
 Hilda. 
 \_Absently .\ I hope that fool of a woman is keeping the 
 tea-cake hot. 
 
 Perry. 
 No, the injunction I would impose on you is this — 
 ihmk ! Exercise the faculty of imagination ! Conjure up 
 delightful illusions, and suffer them to reflect themselves 
 upon your physiognomies. Mr. Ordish, for instance — 
 representing, as he does, that important institution, the 
 Penguin Life and Fire Insurance Company — I ask him 
 to imagine that he has this afternoon induced some provi- 
 dent person to insure his life for five thousand pounds. 
 
 Ordish. 
 Ten quid on the life of a poor rickety baby, Perry — 
 that's more my mark. 
 
 Perry. 
 Yes, yes, but fancy the other event has occurred. 
 \Wi1h animatum.\ Five thousand pounds! What a fat 
 commission, hey ? 
 
 Ordish. 
 [ With a hollow laugh. \ Ho ! 
 
LETTF 69 
 
 Perry. 
 That's right ! that's right ! Hold it, man, hold it ! And 
 you, Mr. Neale — than whom, I am sure, Messrs. Deane and 
 Bosanquet have no traveler they esteem more warmly — my 
 eye, the tremendous orders you booked this morning ! 
 
 Neale. 
 [LoTverino/y.] I had a jolly fine rumpus with the guv'- 
 nors this morning. Beasts ! 
 
 Perry. 
 Dismiss the recollection — imagine they showered com- 
 pliments upon you. Miss AUardyce, what are you most 
 in need of? 
 
 Marion. 
 A new bicycle. 
 
 Perry. 
 You've got it; it's in the basement! Ah, how the 
 plated parts glisten ! 
 
 Marion. 
 [Smz7t\^.] Very well. 
 
 Perry. 
 That's a divine smile ! hold it ! Miss Gunning? 
 
 Hilda. 
 [Wz//i her drawl.'] I don't know what I want — every- 
 thing — my tea 
 
 Perry. 
 H'm! [Pursing his lips.'] We will leave you alone. 
 You shall be the statuesque note in my composition. Miss 
 Shell? 
 
 Letty. 
 [liasHly.'] Pass me. /'//imagine — when the moment 
 
70 LETTY 
 
 Perry. 
 
 \Compleii7ig his preparations. \ Good. Are you ready ? 
 \They nod in nnison, then become rigid. \ Er — the ex- 
 posure will be a protracted one. I entertain no objection 
 to your blinking. Blink, by all means. [They do so. He 
 indicates a particular spot upon the chimney-stack on the 
 right.] Tiiat cluster of soot upon the chimney-stack — 
 you see it ? 
 
 The Group. 
 [Nodding.] Um. 
 
 Perry. 
 Now ! Direct your gaze towards that cluster of soot, 
 and think — think of happy things. So! Ready ! Hold 
 it! \Hiunming^ Ta, ra, ta, ta ! ta, ra, ta, ta ! 
 
 \He turns his back itpo7i them a?id takes his picture. 
 
 Perry. 
 [After a pause of some seconds, facing them with a wave 
 of the hand.\ 1 am obliged. [They relax, uttering sighs 
 of relief] Once more. [ 7 hey stiffen again. He hur- 
 riedly makes his preparatiojis for his second pictui'e and 
 then C07 fronts them as before.] Now! [Pausifig.] Er — 
 it is sometimes advisable to moisten the lips. You may 
 moisten your lips. [77iey do so, simultaneously.] Ready ! 
 [Pointing to the chimney-stack.] Soot! \ Another pause.] 
 Feel happy! Hold it! Ta, ra, ta, ta ! ta, ra, ta, ta ! 
 [Having takeji his second picture.] I am obliged. [With- 
 drawing the dark slide.] Give me a few minutes and then 
 I will be with you. 
 
 Hilda. 
 
 [Resignedly.] We shall never sit down to our n^.eal at 
 this rate. 
 
 [The group breaks up as Perry bustles acf'oss to 
 the skylight and disappears. Letty goes to 
 the camera and examines it. 
 
LETTY 71 
 
 Ordish. 
 [7t7 Neale.] You and I may as well seize the oppor- 
 tunity of settling accounts. 
 
 Neale. 
 {Tesfily.] Dash it, there can't be much in it, one way 
 or the other ! 
 
 \^They 7'eturn to the piwapet-wall where they are 
 seen to be engaged over the settlement. Hilda 
 mtd Marion a?r watching Letty. 
 
 Hilda. 
 [To Marion.] She snapped me up when I put the 
 question. [Okserznng that the 7tien are occupied.] I 
 should have thought she would have told you. \They 
 join Letty.] Old girl 
 
 Letty. 
 \Peering into the lens of the camera.] I am crystal- 
 gazing, divining the future 
 
 Hilda. 
 You might tell us what old Pollard said to you. 
 
 Letty. 
 Not now — it's of no consequence — another time — 
 {Abruptly,'] Oh, one thing he was most emphatic 
 about 
 
 Hilda. 
 What? 
 
 Letty. 
 I am to be out in the air as much as possible — to avoid 
 close rooms. Hilda ? 
 
 Hilda. 
 Yes? 
 
72 LETTF 
 
 Letty. 
 [r/est'fa/m^/y.] Don't be wild with me, dear — I wish 
 you would leave me here. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Leave you ? 
 
 Letty. 
 It's stifling indoors ; one can't breathe, you know, and 
 I — [/ra?ik/y] oh, I mean only till Mr. Letchmere has 
 called. Afterwards, I'll join you all down below. 
 
 Hilda. 
 IPu/ out.'] Ho ! is he ordered fresh air, too ? The rest 
 of us aren't select enough for him ! 
 
 Letty. 
 No, no, he's not a snob ; you're perfectly well aware 
 lie isn't. [^Awkivardly.^ But he — he has something to 
 say to me this evening 
 
 Hilda. 
 [ opening her eyes. ] To say ? 
 
 Letty. 
 Of — of importance — and 
 
 Hilda. 
 Oh — h — h! ^Breathlessly.^ Letty, is he going tc^speak? 
 
 Letty. 
 Sssh! don't be absurd, Hilda ! 
 
 Hilda. 
 
 \Laiighing softly. \ Ha, ha, ha! \Winking ^?/ Marion 
 and then embracing Letty.] You sly old darling ! No- 
 body shall disturb the turtle-doves. You take it easy. 
 I'll make it right with these chaps 
 
LETTY 76 
 
 Letty. 
 [Enireating/y.] Hilda, not— chaps ! I hate the word. 
 
 Hilda. 
 \^[n great good humor.'] Oh, we are becoming fastidi- 
 ous ! [Letty seats herself in t/ie basket-chair7\ Here, 
 you boys ! 
 
 [Neale and Ordish, who have now completed 
 their settlement, come to her, Ordish carefully 
 putting some money into his purse. Marion 
 has walked away and is standing, in thought, 
 looking down through tJie skylight. 
 
 Hilda. 
 \To Neale and Ordish.] Letty's under the weather, 
 no great shakes. She's not equal to fuggy rooms, and 
 
 you chaps— you gentlemen have to wait upon her here 
 
 understand ? 
 
 [Neale, who is in the act of blowing his nose, 
 tucks his handkerchief under his arm and struts 
 about like a waiter. 
 
 Neale. 
 Coming, miss, coming ! One tea and toast ! One egg, 
 must be fresh 1 . 
 
 Ordish. 
 
 \To Neale.] Ah, it's often puzzled me— the career 
 you were born for. 
 
 Neale. 
 \StiingJ\ It wasn't the box-seat of a hearse, at any rate. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Now then, cease it ! 
 
 \As she turns towards the skylight, Perry's head 
 appears. 
 
74 LETTV 
 
 Perky. 
 My dear friends, you will rejoice to hear that my prog- 
 nostications are realized ; the picture will be a remark- 
 able one. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Tea ! 
 
 [Perry's head vanishes and Hilda prepares to 
 descend. ^//<? has 07ie foot upon the steps when 
 she withdraws it and calls to Perry in icy 
 tones. 
 
 Hilda. 
 
 Mr. Perry, I'll ask you not to linger at the foot of that 
 ladder. 
 
 Perry. 
 {Out of sij^ht.\ I beg your pardon. 
 
 [She descends with the aid ^/Ordish, who then 
 makes way for Marion. 
 
 Marion. 
 [7(7 0rdish.J I'll follow in a moment. 
 
 [Ordish goes. 
 
 Neale. 
 What ho ! below there ! 
 
 \He also disappears. The church clock strikes six. 
 Letty raises her head anxiously. 
 
 Marion. 
 [ App roach ing her.] Letty. 
 
 Letty.. 
 Well? 
 
 Marion. 
 Did Pollard write you a prescription? 
 
LETTY 75 
 
 Lettv. 
 It's lying on the bed. 
 
 Marion. 
 Hadn't we better send the g\x\ with it to Wilcox's at 
 once ? 
 
 Letty. 
 I'll take it myself by-and-by. They're open till ten. 
 
 Marion. 
 On Saturdays are they ? 
 
 Letty. 
 [^Starting up.\ Don't fidget me ! oh, don't fidget me! 
 
 Marion. 
 [Soothingly.^ No, dear, I'll not. [Fastening a button 
 of Letty's bodice.^ I have noticed their lights burning 
 late on Saturdays, I remember. 
 
 Letty. 
 [ Glancing down at her bodice. ] Ah , th a n k s . I p u 1 le d i t 
 off and on in such frantic haste. 
 
 Marion. 
 Why, has Dr. Pollard been listening ? 
 
 Letty. 
 Ha ! There, you won't be content till you've wormed 
 it out of me. [Light/y.] I have a tired heart, it appears, 
 Polly. 
 
 Marion. 
 A tired heart? 
 
 Letty. 
 Doesn't it sound romantic ? But it's merely a phrase ; 
 there's no such thing, actually. I'm anaemic — I've got 
 
76 LETTY 
 
 myself into an anaemic condition. Clever of me! So 
 tiieie's a slight fluttering 
 
 Marion. 
 I — I see. 
 
 Letty. 
 Don't stay here ; you'll vex Hilda. 
 
 [They walk together to the skylight. 
 
 Marion. 
 \Earnestly.\ On Monday you'll begin lunching out 
 with me again, I should hope, in the old way ? 
 
 Letty. 
 [ With a little shrug] I — I'm under orders not to go to 
 business on Monday. 
 
 Marion. 
 Whose orders ? 
 
 Letty. 
 Dr. Pollard's. I ought to loaf— take a long rest, he 
 advises. If I don't, he declines to be answerable 
 
 Marion. 
 Letty ! 
 
 Letty. 
 [Shaking her head wilfully. \ La, la, la ! There's 
 nothing to be alarmed about. [Turning away ?^ Do make 
 them hunry up with that tiresome tea. 
 
 [She stands by the parafiet-wall and gazes at the 
 prospect. Her feet tap the leads, and her 
 hands, %vhich are behind her, a7'e seen to clasp 
 and unclasp each other nervously. Marion 
 follows her. 
 
 Marion. 
 But — but— what will you do ? 
 
LETTY 77 
 
 Letty. 
 Do? 
 
 Marion. 
 A long rest ! How shall you manage it? 
 
 Letty. 
 Yes, I'm stony-broke, aren't I ? 
 
 Marion. 
 We'll study my bank-book to-night. 
 
 Letty. 
 Your savings! I'd die first ! 
 
 Marion. 
 Sssh ! be sensible. 
 
 Letty. 
 IPutting her arms round Marion.] I'd die first. 
 
 Marion. 
 Be sensible. The situation has to be faced prac- 
 tically. 
 
 Letty. 
 \_In a whisper?^ Polly ! 
 
 Marion. 
 
 Eh? 
 
 Letty. 
 
 Polly, dear, suppose this holiday— this rest that I am 
 ordered— comes to me, as it were, without any seeking, 
 comes like rain from the clouds ! 
 
 Marion. 
 That's all very well. And suppose, on the other hand 
 — suppose it does notf 
 
78 LETTY 
 
 Letty. 
 \Releasing her?[ You Job's comforter ! 
 
 Marion. 
 It's common prudence to be prepared for disappoint- 
 ment. 
 
 Letty. 
 [ Walking about?[ Ha ! You are one to give a girl the 
 hump, Polly. 
 
 Marion. 
 All I mean is that in that case you must let me with- 
 draw a Httle of my vast hoard. 
 
 Letty. 
 
 Never; I'm up to my neck as it is. Besides, it 
 wouldn't be of the smallest service to me. 
 
 Marion. 
 Of no service ? 
 
 Letty. 
 No, a poor girl's holiday would be of no use to me 
 now. Yarmouth — Heme Bay — Southend — I've a loath- 
 ing for the very names of the horrid, vulgar holes! The 
 only rest for me is to be lifted right out of this, to 
 be caught up tightly and flown away with — over these 
 house-tops — over there ! 
 
 Marion. 
 Hush, hush ! don't be so excited. 
 
 \A voice is heard imitating the sound of a tmmpet. 
 The gifis separate, and presently Neale ap- 
 pears bearing a cup of tea afid a plate of bread- 
 and-butter. Marion descends. 
 
 Neale. 
 
 [Advancing to Letty with an obeisance. ^ Maiden, 
 
LETTY 7'9 
 
 while the bandits below are sleeping off their drunken 
 stupor, I bring you this bowl of rain-water and this mil- 
 dewed crust. 
 
 Letty. 
 \^Recovering herself laughingly. \ Thanks, friend Carlo. 
 \ Taking the cup-a?id-saiicer and the plate from him aiui 
 placing them on the parapet-wall. \ Ihe memory of your 
 services will dwell with me until my last hour. 
 
 \^He again blows a trumpet-blast and is withdraw- 
 ing when she calls him. 
 
 Letty. 
 Mr. Neale. 
 
 Neale. 
 Your humble. 
 
 Letty. 
 Please excuse me for alluding to it, but I hope your 
 disagreement with your firm isn't likely to result in any 
 unpleasantness for you. 
 
 Neale. 
 
 \_Sitting on the edge of the skylight, his legs out of sight.] 
 More likely to result in unpleasantness for Deane and 
 Bosanquet. Where'd they be if Charley Neale turned 
 his back on 'em? 
 
 Letty. 
 [Moving towards him.\ At all events, you mustn't 
 think I'm forgetting the — the few pounds you and Mr. 
 Ordish were so friendly as to advance me. 
 
 Neale, 
 [Jocularly.] Well, I'll try my hardest not to. 
 
 Letty. 
 [Playing with a finger ring.] Indeed I — I expect to 
 find myself able — very shortly — very 
 
80 LETTY 
 
 Neale. 
 \_Looking 2ip at her.] All right ; you take your own 
 
 time, ducky. 
 
 Letty. 
 {Retreating.] Thank you. It shall be as soon as pos- 
 sible, I assure you. 
 
 \She returns to the parapet-wall a7id, taking up 
 her tea-cup, becomes oblivious of his existence. 
 He contemplates her for a few moments, then 
 approaches her sheepishly. 
 
 Neale. 
 I say 
 
 Letty. 
 {Curtly.] What, Mr. Neale? 
 
 Neale. 
 I say, don't you go working yourself into a state, now, 
 over that messin' little loan, 'cos I won't have it. 
 
 Letty. 
 {Relenting.\ You are awfully good. But I'm afraid I 
 sha'n't enjoy much peace of mind until I'm free from — 
 two or three small obligations. 
 
 Neale. 
 {Avoiding her eye. ] Le tty . 
 
 Letty. 
 
 Yes? 
 
 Neale. 
 
 {Kicking one foot against the other.] Look here, I — 
 I've a — a proposition to make. 
 
 Letty. 
 Proposition ! 
 
LETTY 81 
 
 Neale. 
 I'm agreeable to write that debt off, consider it settled, 
 if you are. 
 
 Letty. 
 Settled ! 
 
 Neale. 
 Settled. You — you give me a — a kiss for every ten 
 bob you owe me 
 
 Letty. 
 Oh ! ^Laying her cup aside and backing away from 
 him.\ You odious creature ! 
 
 Neale. 
 
 Stuff! Letty 
 
 Letty. 
 Stop calling me by my Christian name, you — you 
 worm ! Common I know you are, but I've never sus- 
 pected you of being quite so low as this ! 
 
 Neale. 
 Great Ned, here's a flare up about a trifle ! 
 
 Letty. 
 \TragicaUy?f^ Go ! 
 
 \He slouches away to the skylight and there halts. 
 
 Neale. 
 ^Mumbling.^ 'Pon my soul, one daren't open one's 
 lips to some people. \Turning.'\ Lett — Miss Shell — 
 \edging tiearer to her, expostulatingly] you called me 
 Carlo, which is French for Charley 
 
 Letty. 
 It isn't French for Charley, and I could cut my tongue 
 out. 
 
82 LETTY 
 
 Neale. 
 And then, recollect, it was a purely business offer. 
 
 Letty. 
 I desire to be alone, Mr. Neale. 
 
 Neale. 
 \^After a brief pause, with a humble cough. \ Ahem ! I 
 — 1 beg your pardon. 
 
 Letty. 
 \Shortly^ Very well. 
 
 Neale. 
 I — I apologize. 
 
 Letty. 
 I accept your apology. 
 
 Neale. 
 
 Give you my sacred word, it sha'n't ever — ever 
 
 \Rubbing his hands upon his coat.] My hand's so 
 clammy, or I'd ask you to 
 
 Letty. 
 [Giving hi?n her hand.] I forgive you, and will forget 
 the occurrence. 
 
 Neale. 
 [Wringing- her hand.] A precious poor tea I should 
 have made if we hadn't arrived at an understanding. 
 
 [Ordish appears, carrying a sausage-roll ipon a 
 plate. 
 
 Ordish. 
 [Advancing.] Miss Letty, you are to pledge yourself 
 solemnly to eat every morsel of this. 
 
 Letty. 
 What is it ? 
 
LETTV 83 
 
 Ordish. 
 A sausage-roll. • 
 
 Neale. 
 [As he departs.^ Miaou ! miaou ! puss, puss, puss ! 
 
 Ordish. 
 [Turning upon hi?n migrily.\ What perfect taste ! 
 
 Neale. 
 [/;/ disgust.\ Oh, don't be so affected ! 
 
 [He disappears. 
 
 Ordish. 
 [Ruefully. \ We thought it might tempt you, if your 
 appetite is at all squeamish. 
 
 Letty. 
 [Taking it from him.] Hilda couldn't have sent me 
 anything I — [wilh a gulp\ 1 fancy more. 
 
 Ordish. 
 Come, that's lucky. [Going.] She will be glad. 
 
 Letty. 
 
 [Putting the sausage-roll aside, and again taking up her 
 cup-and-saucer. j Mr. -Ordish. 
 
 Ordish. 
 [Returning.] Did you call me ? 
 
 Letty. 
 [Sipping her tea.] You won't think me impertinent, 
 will you? I couldn't help being struck by that remark 
 of yours to Mr. Perry. 
 
 Ordish. 
 Remark ? 
 
84 LETTY 
 
 Letty. 
 Concerning your — concerning insurance affairs. [Look- 
 ing at him askance over her tea- cup. \ Tliis is your bad 
 time of year, perhaps ? 
 
 Ordish. 
 No, this is my good time of year. 
 
 Letty. 
 \Sorro'wful/y.'\ Oh! 
 
 Ordish. 
 \Thrusti7ig his hands into his pockets and scowling at 
 vacancy.^ But whether the Penguin office is unpopular, 
 or whether it's me 
 
 Letty. 
 You? 
 
 Ordish. 
 
 My method of canvassing ! | Harshly?^ Naturally 
 
 one can't avoid telling people that in the midst of life 
 they are in death. 
 
 Letty. 
 [Diffidently .^ There's no way of— breaking it to 
 them? 
 
 Ordish. 
 Heaven knows I've tried every way — gentle — 
 abrupt 
 
 Letty. 
 [Touching his arm.'\ The money you were kind 
 enough to lend me — you and Mr. Neale 
 
 Ordish. 
 Oh, don't mention my share of it, please. 
 
LETTY 85 
 
 Letty. 
 I had no idea Mr. Neale would consult you in the mat- 
 ter. It was almost a breach of contidence. 
 
 Ordish. 
 
 \Facing her, his ina7iner softening.\ You see he couldn't 
 readily make up tlie round sum himself on that particular 
 day, and he — \eyemg her wistfully\ he allowed me to have 
 a bit. 
 
 Letty. 
 [ Dropp ing her lids in embarrassment. ] Soheexplained. 
 
 Ordish. 
 [ With a slight huskiness.'] He's a capital fellow, old 
 Neale, at heart. 
 
 Letty. 
 \0b serving the toe of her shoe with great attention.^ 
 You both are. [ Quickly, as if fearing a response on his 
 part.\ What I wanted to say is that I may — that is, I 
 hope to find myself in a position ere long 
 
 Ordish. 
 
 \lVith an elaborate show of indifference. \ Oh, when- 
 ever you — whenever you are flush. Not a second be- 
 fore, I insist. 
 
 Letty. 
 \After an awkward silence.^ I am keeping you from 
 your tea. 
 
 Ordish. 
 /am — from yours. 
 
 [They part abruptly, she returni?tg to the parapet- 
 wall, he vanishing rapidly through the sky- 
 light. Putting her cup down, she sits in the 
 windsor-chair and gases after Ordish ivith 
 overfoiving eyes- 
 
86 LETTY 
 
 Letty. 
 \Co7npassionately .\ Oh! oh! 
 
 \In the distajtce a street organ breaks into a waltz, 
 histantly her face brightens and she jumps to 
 her feet. 
 
 Letty. 
 [ With a shake of the body and a little cry of delight. \ 
 Ah! 
 
 \She selects the smallest piece of bread-and-butter 
 she can find, and, holding it daintily between 
 her finger and thumb, and makitig a peck at it 
 at ititervals, takes a few turns at the waltz. 
 When the bread-and-butter is consumed, she 
 seats herself, glowing and breathless, upon the 
 parapet-wall. 
 
 Letty. 
 Ah ! ah ! 
 
 \Her eyes fall upon the sausage-roll. She settles 
 the plate upon her lap and, after regarding the 
 roll with aversio7i, makes several efforts to con- 
 vey it to her mouth. Finally, failing in her 
 attempts, she deliberately drops it over the wall. 
 
 Letty. 
 \Peeri7ig into the depths, gleefully :\ Ha, ha, ha, ha ! 
 
 [Perry appears, carrying a plate of shrimps. 
 
 Perry. 
 \^As he ascends.] A' ha ! 
 
 Letty. 
 [Leaving the wall, guiltily.] Ah, Mr. Perry ? 
 
 Perry. 
 I hope I am not too tardy in proffering you these suc- 
 culent little denizens of the deep ? 
 
LETTY 87 
 
 Letty. 
 Why, they're shrimps. 
 
 Perry. 
 \Su?'prised.\ I said shrimps. 
 
 Letty. 
 Er — exactly what I fancy. [Indicating the parapet- 
 wa//.] Put them on my tea-table. 
 
 [//e does so, and at the same time remarks the dis- 
 appearance of the sausage-roll. 
 
 Perry. 
 \Examining the empty plate, then replacing it. '\ Not a 
 crumb. This will gratify Miss Gunning. 
 
 \He comes to his camera and prepares to remove it. 
 She is standing at the skylight listening with 
 strained ears. 
 
 Letty. 
 
 Had — had anybody else arrived before you left the 
 tea-table ? 
 
 Perry. 
 No. Is any one expected ? 
 
 \She cle7iches her hands and letters a sigh of sus- 
 pense. He adva7ices, carryifig the camera and 
 stand. 
 
 Letty. 
 \Depressed.\ Mr. Perry. 
 
 Perry. 
 
 Eh? 
 
 Letty. 
 How \syour business ? 
 
88 LETTY 
 
 Perry. 
 My dear young lady, I am gradually being forced to 
 the conclusion that no photographer inspired by artistic 
 ambitions will ever flourish in the Edgware Road. 
 
 Letty. 
 This \s your good time of year, too, isn't it? 
 
 Perry. 
 [ With a shrug.^ One sitting only to-day — a plebeian 
 wedding-party smothered in con/elt.i. Six copies. 
 
 Letty. 
 \Falteringly. [ I ventured to ask the question because 
 I have been rather fretting about that — that little loan. 
 
 Perry. 
 \Grandly.\ Ah, Miss Shell, if it were but in my power 
 to treble, to quadruple, the amount and then to induce 
 you to forget it utterly ! \RegretfiiUy, moving towards 
 the sky-light,\ As it is, alas ! 
 
 Letty. 
 Let me help you with these. 
 
 Perry. 
 You are too gracious. 
 
 \He gets partly doiv7i the steps and she hands him 
 the camera and stand. 
 
 Letty. 
 \As she does so.'\ Mr. Perry, while you are upon the 
 subject — candidly, you know — how long can you — can 
 you 1 
 
 Perry. 
 \Taking the camera. \ I am obliged. Wait? 
 
LETTY 89 
 
 Letty. 
 Y — yes — wait. 
 
 Perry. 
 Candidly ? [Taking the siand?[ I am obliged. \Cheer- 
 fidly-\ Till within iour-and-twenty hours ot quarter-day 
 without the least inconvenience. 
 
 Letty. 
 Quarter-day ! {Drawing a deep breaih\ That's next 
 week. 
 
 Perry. 
 [Simply, as he descends.^ Is it really ? Lord bless me, 
 so it is. 
 
 Letty. 
 
 Next week ! 
 
 [Hilda's voice is heard, then Nevill's. 
 
 Hilda. 
 {Frojn below — calling.] Letty ! Letty ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 [From below, to Perry.] I fear you are in a difficulty, 
 sir. May I assist you ? 
 
 Letty. 
 Ah! 
 
 Perry. 
 [Disappearing.] A thousand thanks. I am obliged. 
 
 \She nwves away excitedly, endeavoniig to com- 
 mand herself. Presently Nevill appears and, 
 coming to her, takes her hand. He has changed 
 his town attire and is now wearing a suit of 
 sersze and a straw hat. 
 
90 LETTY 
 
 Nevill. 
 Did you think you were not to see me this evening 
 after all ? 
 
 Letty. 
 No — butr as a rule, it's I who keep you waiting. 
 
 Nevill. 
 I was rash enough to drop in at my club, and there 
 found a couple of invitations for to-morrow which I had 
 to deal with. [Looking about him.\ You receive me in 
 the garden. 
 
 Letty. 
 Hilda's garden. \Leading him to the le/t.\ This is 
 mine, only it's dreadfully pokey. 
 
 Nevill. 
 It is hmited in extent. Still, while you enjoy the run 
 of a neighbor's estate 
 
 Letty. 
 [Leading him to the parapet-ivall?^ Look ! isn't it a 
 glorious view? I am never tired of gazing at it. [Point- 
 ing.\ There's Regent Circus. [He nods. \ Bond Street's 
 there. Ha, ha, ha ! that's where you live — I can almost 
 watch you. [With a sweep of the arm. \ The Squares — 
 the Park ! What a wonderful light ! The gold- 
 dust has been flying all day. 
 
 Nevill. 
 The gold-dust ? 
 
 Letty. 
 The dust rising from the wealth of the millionaires. 
 [He laughs.^ The air is choked with it. On a day such 
 as this it melts ; and then, as the sun loses its power, the 
 particles mass together and harden, and the sky becomes 
 a dome of solid gold. 
 
LETTY 91 
 
 Nevill. 
 No wonder the nights are oppressive. 
 
 Letty. 
 Yes, you can scarcely breathe then, London is shut in 
 so closely. London ! London ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 You httle cockney ! 
 
 Letty. 
 Will you have some tea ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 [^Shaking his head.'] I had a drink at my club. 
 
 Letty. 
 I've finished my tea. I asked Hilda to give it me in 
 the open, remembering how stupidly Ld behaved in your 
 rooms. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Smiling at her. \ You have contrived admirably. 
 
 Letty. 
 [Turfiing her face away.\ Ha, ha! Won't you sit 
 down ? [Leading him to the basket-chair.\ Here 
 
 Nevill. 
 No 
 
 Letty. 
 I command ! 
 
 \He sits in the basket-chair, she upon the wooden 
 stool which she fij'st places at a short distance 
 from him. 
 
 Letty. 
 You may smoke. [He produces his cigarette case. \ My 
 cigarettes are next door — but I couldn't offer you those. 
 
92 LETTY 
 
 \He hands her his case and she accepts a cigarette 
 smilingly. '2 hen he strikes a jnatch and she 
 bends forward and takes a light from it. Hav- 
 ing lighted his own cigarette, he sinks back in 
 his chair and lapses into a moody silence. The 
 organ stops playing. 
 
 Nevill. 
 ^Frowning.'] Thank God, thiit noise has ceased ! 
 
 Letty. 
 Oh, I love an organ ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 Enthusiast ! 
 
 Letty. 
 \ Her elbows on her knees, blowing wreaths.] I've often 
 found myself wishing that the people who wave organ- 
 grinders away could be instantly struck down— die on 
 the spot ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 The porter in Grafton Street has my orders to 
 chivvy the Italian devils directly they show themselves. 
 
 Letty. 
 
 [6"/>//v-] Really ! Suppose my wish had ever been 
 gratified ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 The world would have been no great loser, in my case. 
 
 Letty. 
 \Softly.] You are fishing for a compliment ; I won't 
 pay it. 
 
 [ 7 hey sit for a time zvithout speak ijig. The church- 
 bell clangs out the quai'ter-hour. 
 
LETTY 93 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Startmg-\ Good Lord ! what's that? 
 
 Letty. 
 All Souls'. It sounds so near up here, doesn't it? 
 
 Nevill. 
 Ha ! yes. \Again there is silence between them. 
 
 Letty. 
 \In a low voice. 1 Are you angry with me for any 
 reason ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 Angry ? No, my dear. 
 
 Letty. 
 \After a further pause, tiuisting her cigarette between her 
 fingers.\ These are delicious. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Letty 
 
 Letty. 
 
 Yes? 
 
 Nevill. 
 You know I had a visitor this afternoon — a man — while 
 you were in my den, resting ? 
 
 Letty. 
 Hilda came into the room and said there was somebody 
 vith you, and that you'd call us immediately he'd gone. 
 
 Nevill. 
 It was the gentleman of whom you've spoken to me 
 on several occasions— Mr. Mandeville — Mr. Bernard 
 Mandeville. 
 
94 LETTV 
 
 Letty. 
 How very presuming ! What did he want ? I beg 
 your pardon 
 
 Nevill. 
 Not at all ; you were the sole topic of our conversation. 
 There is a lady in your office, it appears, who busies her- 
 self with the private affairs of her fellow -clerks. 
 
 Letty. 
 Kate Bowman ? Miss Bowman ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 Bowman or Smith or Jenkins — whatever his source of 
 
 information, Mr. Mandevilie has learned that a friendship 
 
 has recently sprung up between one of his eitiployees and 
 
 myself, and he is greatly disturbed by the circumstance. 
 
 Letty. 
 One of his employees— me ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Dryly.'] Yes, I don't gather that he has the smallest 
 objection to my acquaintance with the frigid Marion. 
 Certainly, he means you, Letty. 
 
 Letty. 
 I — I am dreadfully sorry you should be bothered in 
 this manner, Mr. Letchmere. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Pray don't mind that. 
 
 Letty. 
 [Modestly.] I — I have told you how he has pestered me 
 ever since I first went to Waterloo Place, by talking to 
 me whenever the opportunity occurred — jjiakmg oppor- 
 tunities to talk to me. But I've not given him the slight- 
 
LETTF 95 
 
 est encouragement. Once he asked me to go out with 
 him— I told you 
 
 Nevill. 
 Yes, you told me. \Shifting in his chair restlessly. \ 
 Well, undoubtedly he has a sK.xow'g penchant iox you, my 
 dear child. He's over head and ears in love with you 
 beyond question 
 
 Letty. 
 Ah, don't ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 And being possessed of the idea that I am a bar to his 
 progress, he invites me with the utmost cordiality to make 
 room for him— to stand aside. There you have the sub- 
 stance of my interview with Mr. Mandeville in a nut- 
 shell. 
 
 Letty. 
 \Her bosom heaving.^ I assure you he has never ven- 
 tured — never dared — to speak a word to me — of love 
 
 Nevill. 
 No, I drew that admission from him. His hesitation 
 has been due, however — so he gives me to understand — 
 to the wide gulf existing between his social position and 
 your own. But now 
 
 Letty. 
 \Proudly?^ His position and mine ! True, I am his 
 clerk ; but I am also the daughter of a gentleman ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 Wait. I was about to say that I fancy he is now de- 
 termined to battle with his scruples bravely— to fight 
 tliem like a Trojan. I declined emphatically to — to keep 
 off the grass — the euphemism is Mr. Mandeville's; with 
 
96 LETTY 
 
 the result, if I am any judge of human nature, that you 
 will receive an avowal of his matrimonial aspirations be- 
 fore many days — hours perhaps — are over. 
 
 Letty. 
 I shall refuse to listen to him ! I won't listen to him ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 Won't you? [^Throwing his cigarette away with delib- 
 eration.\ Do you think you're wise? 
 
 Letty. 
 
 {Bhmkly,\ What! 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 Dugdale's is a big thing, Letty — I have Mr. Mande- 
 ville's authority for the statement. Granted it isn't a 
 trade that everybody would choose to soil his hands with 
 —of how many trades could you not say the same? It's 
 lucrative ; and in this huge sweepstakes we call life, for 
 a girl to draw a starter at all is not to be lightly esteemed. 
 Remember the thousands of you that draw blanks — or 
 worse than blanks. 
 
 Letty. 
 \With growing apprehension\ Well, but you wouldn't 
 care to see me ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Interrupting her.^ And this Mandeville — I suspect his 
 name is Myers or Mendelsohn — he may be an upright, 
 warm-hearted animal on his domestic side. Most of em 
 are — more faithful, more devoted to their women-folk, 
 more jealous of family honor, than we — Christians. You 
 must survey your beau from all points of view. 
 
 Letty. 
 But— but — but you wouldn't care to see me — the wife 
 — of a man like Mr. Mandeville? 
 
LETTY 97 
 
 Nevill. 
 Frankly, the spectacle would be exceedingly disagree- 
 able. 
 
 Lettv. 
 [ Under Jier breath. j Alii 
 
 Nevill. 
 At the same time, I advise you, my dear Letty, not to 
 consult my feehngs in the matter. 
 
 Letty. 
 
 \Famtly.\ I — I thought you were — interested in me. 
 Nevill. 
 
 I am — \l e Lining forwari{\ and in a way I could hardly 
 have imagined possible. So interested in you am I that 
 I find myself — I admit, to my intense surprise — counsel- 
 ing you to balance carefully the claims of this eligible 
 bucket-shop proprietor against the dubious advantages 
 of a continued friendship with an individual who is a 
 bachelor only in his mode of living. 
 
 Letty. 
 \Stari7ig at hvn.\ Why . . . are you married ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 {^Leaning back in his chair. ^ Yes, as Mr. Mandeville, 
 who has been examining my credentials, is brutal enough 
 to remind me — yes, I'm married. 
 
 \lhere is a pause. Her cigarette drops from her 
 Jijigers and she carefully puts her foot upon it. 
 
 Letty. 
 \In a low voice.] You might have mentioned it before. 
 You might have mentioned it. 
 
 [Sudden/y she rises and zualks to the parapet-zvall. 
 1 here she stands, ereci, turning her back upon 
 him. He produces his cigarette-case agai7i. 
 
98 LLTTY 
 
 i^ETTY. 
 
 lA//er a si/ence.^ Your wife — Mrs. LeLchmere ? Does 
 she never go to Grafton Street? 
 
 Nevill. 
 Ha, lia ! no. We separated two years ago — or three, 
 was it? — separated by mutual disagreement. 
 
 Letty. 
 You — you might have mentioned her. 
 
 . Nevill. 
 She retains the child — {lighting a.cigarette\ she retains 
 the child, I my liberty. 1 hope she does better by the 
 one than I with the other. 
 
 Letty. 
 1 hope so. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Come, come, come! The discovery that you've al- 
 lowed a married man to sit with you in Kensington Gar- 
 dens upon a few fine summer evenings ; that you have 
 once or twice permitted him to thread with you the 
 sinuous but decidedly-public paths of the exhibition- 
 grounds at Earl's Court ! — is it such a very terrible 
 humihation ? 
 
 Letty. 
 Perhaps you are no judge of how a girl may be 
 humiliated. \Clenching her hands.\ Oh, why didn't you 
 mention it? 
 
 Nevill. 
 At first I saw no necessity for babbling of myself. We 
 had not reached that footing. 
 
LETTV 99 
 
 Lettv. 
 [Far//y turning to him.\ Afterwards, when I grew less 
 reserved w\i\\ you — when you let ?}ie talk ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Deep in his chair, watching the smoke from his cig- 
 arette^ Afterwards ? Ah, our relations had then become 
 so pleasant that I was reluctant to disturb them. I knew 
 they couldn't last — nothing lasts! 1 knew that this dis- 
 closure — would make a difference. 
 
 Letty. 
 \_Her eyes flashing. ] Difference ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 And I own I wanted to delay it. With due respect — 
 curse Mr. Mandeville! Why couldn't he have afforded 
 us a further respite ? My dear child, your confiding prat- 
 tle, your refreshing zest of life, have drugged me into 
 some delicious intervals of oblivion, illusion. Beware of 
 sentimentalists ! Under the influence of your compan- 
 ionship, my dear, I have found myself back in the days 
 when one sang as one tramped between budding hedge- 
 rows, when the down was first sprouting on one's lip and 
 the world was still Arcadia. That's it, Letty ! we've 
 strayed into Arcadia together — a cockney Arcadia be- 
 neath the trees of Kensington Gardens or among the 
 band-stands at Earl's Court ! And there you've seen 
 the best of me. That is my apology — hitherto at least, 
 I have been at pains to show you the best of me. For 
 longer, I swear, than any woman who has ever attracted 
 me, you have seen what is best in me. 
 
 Letty. 
 \Advancing a step or two, eyeing him half-curious ly, ha/f 
 fearfully.^ 1 have been mistaken in you altogether, 
 then ? 
 
 L.cfC. 
 
100 LETTY 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Risi7tg.'\ I have explained — you have seen only the 
 best of me. 
 
 Letty. 
 \Striiggling to keep back hertears.'\ Was it part of your 
 best to — to kiss me tliis afternoon ? [ Wiping the kiss from- 
 her lips.\ You needn't have done that. It was a shame 
 of you to do that. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [ With a deprecating shrug.'\ Recollect I had just gone 
 through the ordeal of prodding Mr. Mandeville on to a 
 proposal of marriage. 
 
 Letty. 
 \Co7ifronting him hotly. \ You might have spared your- 
 self the trouble. Your anxiety that I should marry this 
 person is extraordinary ! You — you insult me ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Quz'et/y.] Ah, there you are unfair, my little friend. 
 
 Letty. 
 Unfair ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 [IVith some ij7tpatience.\ Good heaven, Letty ! do me 
 the justice to perceive that I am urging you to secure 
 yourself against the snares that beset a girl placed as you 
 are — a girl of your temperament particularly ! 
 
 Letty. 
 \Scornfully.'\ A moral lecture ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 1 am conscious of the incongruity, but repeat the ad- 
 jnonition. Open your eyes, you simpleton ! 
 
LETTY 101 
 
 Letty. 
 
 Oh, believe me I am fully capable of protecting myself 
 without marrying Mr. Mandeville, or any man. \Sffp- 
 ping back, with a glatice at the skylight, as a hint for him 
 to leave her.\ However, this is a theme I prefer not to 
 discuss with you, Mr. Lctchmeie. 
 
 \He bows slightly and passes her ; then he turns 
 and holds out his hand. 
 
 Letty. 
 [Giving him her hand.'\ Good-bye. I can't help 
 being indignant, but I — I thank you for the treats you 
 have given me. 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Retaining her hand and speaking in precise, mea- 
 sured tones. \ Pray bear in mind that" I hope this fellow 
 Mandeville will come up to the scratch and that you'll 
 hook him. \She withdraws her hand angrily.^ But 
 should he not do so, or should you wilfully neglect your 
 opportunity — well ! 
 
 Letty. 
 \Surprised at the change in his voice and ma7ine?'.'\ 
 Well? 
 
 [^He walks away from her to the parapet-wall. 
 When there he invites her by a look to join 
 him. She goes to him wonderingly. 
 
 Nevill, 
 \Pointing into the distance ^^ " Bond Street's there" ; 
 that's where / live. [Softly. \ You will be welcome, my 
 dear. 
 
 [She stares at him for a moment ; then co7?7prehcnd- 
 ing, her breath cojjics sho?'tly and shaiply, and 
 she hurriedly unfxstens the brooch at her 
 throat. 
 
102 LETTY 
 
 Letty. 
 
 Oh ! oh ! I forgot this thing ! 
 
 [She is about to fling it at his feet wheji he stays 
 her hand gently. 
 
 Nevill. 
 No, no, no ; don't do that. In memory of Arcadia ! 
 
 \She falters and stands, with quivering lips, help- 
 lessly rollifig the brooch tip in her handkerchief. 
 At length she b?'eaks down and sinks on to the 
 chair by the parapet-wall, crying bitterly. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [After regai'ding her silently for a while — roughly.^ 
 Letty, whatever happens, I wish to God I'd never met 
 you. 
 
 [He leaves her abruptly, goes to the skylight, and 
 descends. As he disappears, Mandeville is 
 seen climbing thrviigh the dormer wituiow. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 [On the roof of \.^ti:y' ^ house ?^ Phst ! Phst ! [She 
 raises her head and listens. He advances to the divarfwall 
 on the left.'\ Any one heah? [She rises, drying her eyes 
 hastily. He discovers her.] Hullo ! Haw ! Letty ! 
 
 Letty. 
 Mr. Mandeville ! 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Dessay you're astonished to see me? 
 
 Letty. 
 V — very. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 I found your address at the office. I vi^ant two min- 
 utes' talk with you. Your landlady sent me up. [Get- 
 
LETTY 103 
 
 ting over the walL] Capital ideah this, on a summer 
 eveiiing. \Glancing at his lemon-colored gloves.\ Plenty 
 of sut, though. 
 
 Letty. 
 {On the right, distajitly.^ Mrs. Hill ought to have an- 
 ripunced you. This is the house of a friend of mine. 
 She has a tea-party, and I am just going to join it. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 No necessity for hurry, is there.-* [Staring at her."] 
 Ain't you well.'* 
 
 Letty. 
 Perfectly. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 You've been lookin* rawther peaky lately. [At her 
 side.\ I know what would diO yoii good — lolHng about the 
 gawden of my little place 
 
 Letty. 
 [Drawing back.'] Thank you, I 
 
 Mandeville. 
 
 Swinging in one of my hammocks 
 
 Letty, 
 I don't go out a great deal. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Haw ! don't you ? That doesn't quite square with the 
 reports that reach me. 
 
 Letty. 
 [Pulling herself together. ] Indeed ! 
 Mandeville. 
 You're seen out pretty frequently with your — haw ! — 
 with a gentleman of the name of Mr. Nevill Letchmere. 
 
104 LETTY 
 
 Letty. 
 By Miss Bowman, I presume ? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Haw ! Anyhow, such proceedings are — haw ! — highly 
 reprehensible — highly objectionable to the firm. 
 
 Letty. 
 I am not aware that Mr. Letch mere interferes with the 
 proper discharge of my duties. {Making a movement,^ I 
 am afraid I must 
 
 Mandeville. 
 \_Standmg before /ler.] Deuce take it, you can give me 
 two minutes, surely ! Letty, I've always regawded you 
 as one of the proud, stand-off sort ; heaps of go in you 
 but no confounded nonsense — see what I mean? You're 
 not the young woman I should have expected to find 
 gallivanting all over the shop with a feller who has a wife 
 kicking about somewhere or other ; a feller ! 
 
 Letty. 
 Mr. Letchmere is a — a man of honor ; and I have the 
 deepest respect for him, as he has for me. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 
 {^Checking an oath.^ Respect be ! Haw! You're 
 
 not ail fait with his pedigree, that's evident. He springs 
 from a scoundrelly stock, and what's bred in the 
 bone 
 
 Letty, 
 I've no wish to hear 
 
 Mandeville. 
 His fawther went off with a Miss Cleary the day be- 
 fore she was to be married to Sir George Peele. 
 
LF.TTY 105 
 
 Letty. 
 It's possible. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 And his beautiful ma played the leadin' part in the 
 Shafto scandal. You've never read an account of the 
 Shafto .? 
 
 Letty. 
 No, I have not. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Both his brothers have been through the Divorce 
 Court. 
 
 Letty. 
 Their acts are not my Mr. Letchmere's. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Your Mr. Letchmere's! Haw! Oh, I can furnish 
 you with a jolly thick catalogue of his doings. I've mas- 
 tered his little history from A to Z. 
 
 Letty. 
 My friends are waiting for me, Mr. Mandeville. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Two minutes ! Two minutes ; 'pon my soul I won't 
 keep you beyond it. Can't we — haw ! — bring ourselves 
 to an anchor ! 
 
 [After so7ne hesitatioji, she seats herself ufon the 
 edge of the basket- chair. 
 
 Letty. 
 \Tapping her foot up07i the ground. ^ Two minutes. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 [Sitting beside her, upon the wooden stoo/.] I — haw ! — 
 
106 LF.TTY 
 
 I've come straight heah from the Acacia Road — my resi- 
 dence — Regent's Pavvk. 1 — haw I — I've been chatting 
 matters over with my mothaw. 
 
 Letty. 
 Matters — with your mother ? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 My old mothaw hves with me ; superintends the house, 
 the slaveys and so forth — see what I mean? Letty, I — 
 haw ! — I've been gently rubbing you into her. 
 
 Letty. 
 What ! 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Of course I don't desiah to upset the old lady. She's 
 a splendid old gal ; sixty odd— beautiful white hair — 
 head' s a picture. [Puliing at his moustache.'] But— haw ! 
 — she's enormously stout and one mustn't upset her. 
 
 Letty. 
 Why — why should you upset her? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Well, luckily, there's no occasion to, because, as it 
 happens, she's as reasonable as they make 'em. She 
 was disposed to be glum at first ; that you cawn't be sur- 
 prised at— see what I mean ? 
 
 Letty. 
 N — no. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 She didn't cotton to the notion of your being a product 
 of the office. But I soon managed to smooth her down 
 — gave her a flowery description of you — see what I 
 mean ? — and the upshot of it is she's nuts on my carting 
 you up to her to-morrow morning. 
 
LETTY 107 
 
 Letty. 
 Mr. Mandeville 
 
 Mandeville. 
 \Bendmg towards /ler.] Letty, I've been sweet on you 
 ever since Cohen called me into his room and asked me 
 to run my eye over you. "Well?" said Mike, when 
 you'd cleared out. " By Jove, she's fetching! " I said. 
 " Fetching be blowed ! " said the old man, '• is she worth 
 her screw ?" Worth your screw! \Edging nearer. \ 
 Pet ! 
 
 Letty. 
 \Shrinking into her chair.\ No, no! 
 
 
 Mandeville. 
 
 Eh? 
 
 
 
 Letty. 
 
 I— I couldn't ; 
 
 I couldn't. 
 
 
 Mandeville. 
 
 Couldn't? 
 
 
 
 Letty. 
 
 No. 
 
 
 Mandeville. 
 The sentiment ain't reciprocated, is that it? 
 
 Letty. 
 Yes. 
 
 Mandeville 
 Oh, that'll work right. You shake off the feeling that 
 I'm "the guv'nor" — ^earn to consider yourself my equal ; 
 that's what you've got to do. To you, I dessay, up to 
 now, I've been simply the guv'nor lowering himself by 
 a passing flirtation with one of his gals. 
 
108 LETTY 
 
 Letty. 
 {IViih a curl of the lip.] You have, simply. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Perhaps it was like that at the beginning. And per- 
 haps that freezing style of yours, whenever I've tried to 
 make myself agreeable, has done the trick. At any rale, 
 you can begin to forget that part of the business from 
 this moment. Letty, you re boss now. [Advancw^ Ins 
 
 face to hers. ] Give us a kiss 
 
 l^She struggles to her feet ; he rises with her. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 [Ruj^ed.] Oh, there's nothing to be frightened at. 
 
 Letty. 
 
 I — I am extremely sorry, Mr. Mandeville — ex- 
 tremely 
 
 Mandeville. 
 
 Sorry ? 
 
 Letty. 
 And I — I hope you will excuse me for not speaking the 
 truth to you a minute ago. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Truth- — ? 
 
 Letty, 
 When you were kind enough to inquire whether I am 
 quite fit. The fact is, I am under imperative orders — 
 doctor's orders — to take a long spell of rest, a holiday at 
 the seaside, without delay. So I — I must beg you, and 
 the other members of the firm, to dispense with my serv- 
 ices in Waterloo Place. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 \Blankly.'] Ho ! [After a pause.\ Am I to under- 
 
LETTY 109 
 
 stand, then, that you don't propose to show at the office 
 again ? 
 
 Letty. 
 I think you will agree with me that it's better I 
 shouldn't. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 
 Haw ! Very good. Chucking yourself out, and at 
 this season of the year ! Pretty prospect ! And what 
 fashionable seaside resort may you be patronizing? 
 
 Letty. 
 I — 1 haven't decided. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Saved money ? \_She is silent.^ Saved money? 
 
 Letty. 
 N — not much. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 {Watching her keenly.] No relations, have you ? [She 
 shakes her head.] Intend running into debt, I s'pose? 
 [Her hands 7nove uneasily.] Debt I 
 
 Letty. 
 Oh, don't ! 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Haw ! Once you find yourself there, you know ! 
 
 Letty. 
 I know — thanks 
 
 Mandeville. 
 
 [Suddenly.] You're not looking to Letch mere, are 
 you ? 
 
no LETTY 
 
 Letty. 
 I! 
 
 M.ANDEVILLE. 
 
 To help you over the stile ? 
 
 Letty. 
 
 Mr. Mandeville ! 
 
 Mandeville. 
 
 Look to me! Look to me, Letty. \Clasping her waist. ^ 
 Heah ! listen ! \She slips away from him and passes him, 
 but he regains his hold of her. '\ Don't be a fool ! Look to 
 me. I'll spoil you; I'll make a perfect doll of you. 
 HoHday ! You shall go with the old lady for her annual 
 to Trooveal. Trooveal ! That's the spot if you're off 
 color. I'll fix it. You start rigging yourself out. / 
 pay — see what I mean ? — I pay. They dress, at Trooveal ; 
 but you shall knock lumps off 'em. 
 
 Letty. 
 \Feebly endeavoring, at intervals, to free herself from 
 his embrace.] Please ! please ! 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Don't be a silly fool ! And later on, when we — when 
 we're Mr. and Mrs. ! Cawn't you fancy yourself driving 
 down to the office of an afternoon, picking me up and 
 giving me an airing in your own Victoria? How's that 
 for a triumph ! Your own carriage I 
 
 Letty. 
 \//ysterically.] Hush ! oh ! oh ! 
 
 Mandeville. 
 I'll spoil you, I tell you ! 
 
 Letty. 
 I— I 
 
LETTY 111 
 
 Mandeville. 
 I'll make a doll of you ! 
 
 Letty. 
 I — I'll think it over. I'll write. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 When ? 
 
 Letty. 
 To-morrow. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 
 No ; let me call in the morning. I'll call in the morn- 
 ing. 
 
 Letty. 
 Leave me now, then. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Eleven o'clock suit you ,? 
 
 Letty. 
 
 [Weakly.] Oh 
 
 [He re/eases her and she walks, rather unsteadily, 
 to the skylight. There, with her back to him 
 and her hand to her brow, she stops irresolutely. 
 The church-bells strike the half-hour. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 [Settling his 7iecktie.\ Haw! I'll be heah shawp. 
 \She turns and sinks down upon the slope on the 
 left, sitting upon the pillow aiid staring before 
 her. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 {Approaching her, shooting his cuffs preparatory to 
 departure — awkwardly^^ So-long, my dawling. You be 
 off to your tea-fight. 
 
 \He passes behind her, going to the wall on the 
 left. 
 
112 LETTY 
 
 Letty. 
 \_As he does so — dully. ^ Can you find your way ? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Yaas. {^Offering his hand.\ Au re voir. 
 
 Letty. 
 [Raising- her head and speaking in a quiet, tii-ed voice ^ 
 Mr. Mandeville. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Hey? 
 
 Letty, 
 I — I am in debt, already. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 What amount ? 
 
 Letty. 
 Over twenty pounds. And I — I'm out of health — and 
 haven't a farthing. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 \Seati7ig himself upoti the wall eagerly i\ You give me 
 a schedule in the morning — list of your liabilities. See 
 what I mean ? 
 
 Letty. 
 [ With a nod, her eyes filliftg.'] Yes. Yes. [Brushing 
 the tears away and shifting her position slightly. \ Trou- 
 ville — Trouville's awfully pleasant, isn't it? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Pleasant! One perpetual whirl. Pleasant ! 
 
 Letty. 
 [With a little sod.] I— I've heard of it. [A pause.] I 
 —I believe you'd be good to me. 
 
 [//e rises with alacrity, upon which she scram- 
 
LETTY 113 
 
 bks up and retreats to the right. He follows 
 her and seizes her by the shoulders. 
 
 Letty. 
 \Breathlessly .'\ My friends — my two or three chums 
 — you won't ask me to drop them ? I wouldn't 1 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Are they any class ? 
 
 Letty. 
 yWith clenched fists. \ I don't care a rap. It's a con- 
 diuon ! 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Oh, you keep 'em ; you'll speedily get sick of 'em. 
 \Drawing her to hini.\ I'll spoil you 
 
 Letty. 
 Ah, no, I'm not a kissing girl. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 
 Haw ! Rot ! One 
 
 \She shuts her eyes and he kisses her. Her mari- 
 ner changes; she becomes gay again, in a 
 forced, defiant way, almost boistervus. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 
 Haw ! Anothaw . 
 
 Letty. 
 No, no ; your mother hasn't approved of me yet. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Haw, haw ! She' II approve. 
 
 \She runs to the parapet-wall and stretches out 
 her arins to the prospect. 
 
 Letty. 
 Ah . . . ah . . .! 
 
114 LETTY 
 
 Mandeville. 
 \Joi7iing her.\ Eh ? What are you doing ? 
 
 Letty. 
 Ha. ha, ha ! I am to drive in my carriage, after ali — 
 drive in it down Bond Street ! Ho ! Well ! 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Down Bond Street ? \ Suspiciously. \ Bond Street ? 
 
 Letty. 
 Come ! I'll introduce you to my friends— shall I ? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 \^His brow clearing. '\ You're in no great haste to get 
 rid of me, then .-^ 
 
 Letty. 
 {^Moving to the sky light. \ Not if you wish to remain. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 {Follozuing her.] Letty — Letty, what are you up to to- 
 night? 
 
 Letty. 
 YDescendi7ig.] Nothing; I've no engagement. 
 
 Mandeville, 
 Haw ! Are you game for an out? 
 
 Letty. 
 Game ! Ha, ha ! \ Giving him her hand.'] Be care- 
 
 \The curtain falls . 
 
 end of the second act. 
 
THE THIRD ACT 
 
 The scene is a *' cabinet particiilier'' in a fashionable 
 restaurant in London. 77iere are two doors — 07ie on 
 the left, in the back wall ; the other in the wall on the 
 . right. The doors open into the room — the left-hand 
 door from a passage, that on the right hand from a 
 landing. On the left of the room is a sideboard, at the 
 back a settee, and in the centre are a round table and 
 three chairs. On the right, nearer the spectator, stufid 
 a sofa without a back, a smaller table and a chair. 
 There are other chairs placed about the room, against 
 the walls. 
 
 The decorations of the apartment are florid in 
 design and gaudy in color. Mirrors are let into the 
 panels of the walls on the right ajid left, and from the 
 frames of the mirrors spring clusters of gilt hooks for 
 the disposal of hats and coats. 
 
 On the round table there is evidence of a dinner 
 that has reached its final stage — empty coffee-cups 
 and glasses, a box of cigars, a decanter of wine, and 
 two bottles of liqueur. On the smaller table is an 
 eveni7ig paper. 
 
 The room is gaily illuminated by electric light. 
 [Florence Crosbie is seated— facing the specta- 
 tor — at the round table, with Coppinger 
 Drake on her right and Nevill 07i her left. 
 She and Drake are stariiig dejectedly at the 
 table-cloth ; Nevill, resignedly bored, is 
 leaning back in his chair, studying the ceiling. 
 7 he trio are smoking, /ifter awhile Y'LOKKKCK 
 drops her cigarette into her empty coffee-cup and 
 raises her head. 
 
116 LETTY 
 
 Florence. 
 [//d^aui/y.] Getting late, isn't it ? « 
 
 Drake. 
 \^A fresh-complex ioned, boyish youjig 7nan, roiismg him- 
 self.\ Oh, (Jo forgive nie, Mrs. Crosbie. I've been an 
 absolute owl all tiie evening — too stupidly dull foi words. 
 
 Nevill. 
 \_Comiilting his waich.] A quarter to eleven. 
 
 Drake. 
 
 Must we ? 
 
 ^Receiving no response, he rises reluctantly and 
 rings the bell. 
 
 Nevill. 
 At what hour do you start, my dear Coppy ? 
 
 Drake. 
 \Retiirning to his chair.] I've only to go round to my 
 rooms and change. [Sitting.] I expect Jenny is shud- 
 dering outside my front door already. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Jenny ? 
 
 Drake. 
 That's Tiny's — that's Mrs. Crosbie's nickname for the 
 automobile. [Looking at Florence.] Spanking Jenny 
 • — what ! 
 
 Florence, 
 [In a melancholy voice.'] Spanking Jenny. An ideal 
 night for a rush through the air. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Where do you sleep ? 
 
LETTY 117 
 
 Drake. 
 Sleep! Oh, I haven't thought. I shall find myself 
 somewhere or other to-morrow. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Well! May your tyres never grow less, my dear fel- 
 low ! You have given us an admirable dinner. 
 
 Drake. 
 \Siinply.] Glad. Has it been admirable? I'm afraid 
 I've not been noticing. \There is a knock at the door at 
 the back. \ Entrez. \A waiter appears. \ My bill. L ad- 
 dition, you know. 
 
 Waiter. 
 Yes, sir. \Taki71g up the box of cigars. \ 'Ow many 
 sir ? 
 
 Drake. 
 \lVearily,\ As many as you please. 
 
 [ The man removes the bottles of liqueur and the 
 cigars from the table and goes out. As he 
 withdraws, a knock is heard at the door on 
 the right. 
 
 Drake. 
 Oh, come in — I mean entrez. 
 
 [Frederic — a good-looking maitre d' hotel — bows 
 himself in. He carries a pretty bonbonniere. 
 
 Frederic. 
 
 [Speaking with a slight foreign accent.'\ Good-evening, 
 madam ; good-evening, gentlemen. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Hullo, Frederic! how are you? 
 Frederic. 
 [Approaching the table.] Very well, sir ; I hope you 
 are the same. 
 
118 LETTY 
 
 Nevill. 
 Capital, thanks. 
 
 Frederic, 
 \ Addressing Nevill. J I apologize for troubling yoii, 
 but a gentleman — a regular customer of ours — has run^ 
 us up to say tiiat he is bringing on a party of friends 
 from the theatre, for supper. He orders a private room, 
 and unfortunately all our other private apartments are 
 engaged. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Making your fortune, Frederic? 
 
 Frederic. 
 [With a shrug.^ Our premises are too small. Ah, if 
 they would allow us to take in the little chapel at the 
 back there ! The number of places of worship in London ! 
 
 Drake. 
 That's all right ; we shall be going in a few minutes. 
 
 Frederic. 
 I am extremely obliged. The gentleman is such a 
 first-class customer, or I should not have made so free. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Don't mention it. 
 
 Frederic. 
 Everything has been quite satisfactory ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 Excellent — but I am a guest of Mr. Drake. 
 
 Frederic. 
 Ah, pardon ! 
 
 Drake, 
 {^Indifferently. \ Oh, yes, quite — quite. 
 
LETTY 119 
 
 Nevill. 
 The Filet Pique Richelieu was perfection, Frederic. 
 
 Frederic. 
 Thank you, Mr. Letchmere. \ Going to Florence and 
 presenting her with the bonbonniere .\ With Madame 
 Vigeau's respects. 
 
 Florence. 
 
 Madame ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 Vigeau — the amiable proprietress. 
 
 Florence. 
 Exceedingly gracious of her. | To Frederic] Veuil- 
 lezfaire a inadame mes vifs reinerciments. 
 
 Frederic. 
 [ With more bows^ Good-night, madam. {Backing to 
 the door at which he entered.^ Good-night, gentlemen. 
 
 \^He disappears y closing the door. 
 
 Florence. 
 {Untying the ribbotts of the box.] Chocolat Alarquis. 
 
 Nevill. 
 For the encouragement of Madame Vigeau's patrons. 
 
 Florence. 
 [ 77? Nevill.] And patronesses. You are a first-class 
 customer here also, 1 guess. \He laughs.] Are they in- 
 variably presented with chocolate? \Slippi7ig a tablette 
 into her mouth ?\ Well, it's a compHment. at my age. 
 
 {Still laughing, he rises and picks up the evening 
 paper. She offers the box to Drake who dips 
 his hatid into it sadly. 
 
120 LETTY 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 \^Rimiimg his eye over the paper. \ Is your carnage 
 here, Tiny ? 
 
 Florence. 
 No, Ivor raves so abominably when I keep it hanging 
 about. And I'm not going home yet awhile. 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Elevating his brows. \ Not ? 
 
 P^lorence. 
 Helen Urquhart is in town this week-end, and she has 
 scratched up a few stray people to play Bridge at her 
 place to-night. I had a note from her while I was dress- 
 ing, asking me to come on. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Your looks suggest ty-by as a wiser course— if I may 
 indulge in the personality. 
 
 Florence. 
 Thanks, very much ; but I want to tire myself to death 
 before I make that experiment. \^Rising and joitting him.\ 
 You'll chaperon me .'' 
 
 Nevill. 
 My dear girl, what a bore ! 
 
 Drake. 
 I Who has also risen — in answer to another knock at the 
 door at the dack] Eh ? 
 
 [ The waiter retm'ns, with the bill. Drake goes to 
 him and throws a batik-7iote on to the plate. 
 The waiter withdraws, ivhe^-eupon Drake, seeing 
 that Nevill and Florence are talking to- 
 gether, seats himself on the settee at the back and 
 leans his head upon his hands miserably. 
 
LETTY 121 
 
 Florence. 
 l^To Nevill.J Do be good-natured. Besides, you 
 can't help yourself. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [ Glajicing at D rake and dropping his voice. ] No. I u n- 
 dertook to stick to you to-niglit and to escort you home, 
 didn't I ? 
 
 Florence. 
 \In siinilar /ones.] And Ivor knows it. So I am en- 
 titled to be on the loose, you see. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Oh, Ivor knows it, does he? 
 
 Florence. 
 [With a nod and a grimace. '\ We had a devil of a 
 scene before I left the house. I had to take my oath 
 you'd promised not to stir from my side. 
 
 Nevill. 
 YouVe got me on toast, then. [Shaking his head at her 
 good-humoredly.\ You troublesome little urchin, I wish 
 you had never been born. 
 
 Florence. 
 \Snddenly, in tears.] Oh .' oh ! so do I ! so do I ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 [ Ca//n ing her.] H u sh , h u sh ! Ti n y ! 
 
 [She 7'ecovers hei's.elf quickly, and, havi7ig dried her 
 eyes, adjusts her hair-combs at one^of the mii'- 
 rors on the left. Drake, looking up, hurries 
 to her and assists her in the putting-on of her 
 cloak, which is hangi^ig upon a hook attached 
 to the nmrer. 
 
122 LETTY 
 
 Florence. 
 Tlianks. 
 
 l^Tkey go through the comedy of a friendly leave- 
 taking, their eyes more eloquent than their words. 
 Nevill discreetly withdraws to the further side 
 of the sofa on the right and sits there, deep in 
 his paper, with his back to them. 
 
 Florence. 
 [Turning to Drake.] Well, Coppy, I— I hope you'll 
 liave a tolerable lime up north. [Drawing on hergloves.\ 
 The best of sport to you and — and all that sort of thing ! 
 
 Drake. 
 I wish you a pleasant time, too, Mrs. Crosbie. You're 
 oft' to Marienbad next month ? 
 
 Florence. 
 On the seventeenth. 
 
 Drake. 
 If Fve moderate luck, I may knock up against you in 
 the late autumn. 
 
 Florence. 
 [Quickly.^^ No, I intend to keep out of England till the 
 spring, and let the hunting go to blazes for once. After 
 
 Marienbad I [/;/ another tone.] Look here, Coppy ! 
 
 as we sha'n't meet for — for an age, there's something Fd 
 hke to say to you. 
 
 Drake. 
 
 Er — charmed. 
 
 Florence. 
 
 [Draiving a chair aivny from the round table and seat- 
 ing herself.\ I — I take an interest in you boys — love to 
 see you going steady and straight, and making careers 
 
LETTY 123 
 
 for yourselves. Do you know what would give me the 
 keenest delight? 
 
 What ? 
 
 Drake. 
 Florence. 
 
 r LUKKNCE. 
 
 Hearing of your becoming engaged to some nice, clean, 
 well set-up girl ; hearing of your being — spliced. You're 
 seven-and-twenty, and — my frankness doesn't annoy 
 you.-* 
 
 Drake. 
 
 Not in the least. But I — I'm not a marrying man, 
 Mrs. Crosbie. 
 
 Florence. 
 
 Ho: fiddle! 
 
 Drake. 
 \_CrtimpHng the table-cloth.] Life has treated me a bit 
 roughly and I — oh, I feel beastly stale, played-out. I 
 pity the girl who'd have to pass her days in my society. 
 
 Florence. 
 [Pulling at her glove s.'X You've evidently got the blues 
 for the moment, from some cause or another ; the High- 
 land air will soon blow them away. And you're bound 
 to find yourself with a crowd of pretty girls at Aberfeldy 
 or at Lochbarne — the Grahames always have their house 
 chock-full of 'em. So, recollect, I shall watch the papers 
 for an announcement 
 
 Drake. 
 \ Betiding over her, after a glance in the direction of 
 Nevill.] You'll see nothing ; nothing of that kind con- 
 cerning me. 
 
124 LEITY 
 
 Florence. 
 \Pushing him from her.\ Ha, ha, ha! I shall con- 
 tinue watching, though. \Looking at himivith Q;leaming 
 eyes.'\ At any rate, 1 — I give you this piece of advice, 
 Coppy. 
 
 Drake. 
 Yes? 
 
 Florence. 
 Don't get in the way of forming great friendships with 
 married women. Only those women who are discon- 
 tented with their lot, or who are utterly worthless, are 
 ready to form such friendships. Neither class will do you 
 any good ; and if there's a decent woman amongst them 
 — you make her the more wretched. \PassionateIy .^ 
 Leave them alone ! keep off them ! 
 
 {There is a knock at the door at the back. She 
 rises and grips the lapels of his coat. 
 
 Florence. 
 
 \ Her face close to his, almost inaiidibly.\ Good-bye. 
 \Aloud.^ Come! [P<:w^/;/cr Drake «;zrt'^^z>?^/^ Nevill.] 
 Ready, Nevill ? 
 
 \The waiter returns ivith Drake's chajtge. He 
 is accompanied by another waiter who proceeds 
 to clear and to relay the round table. Having 
 tipped the first waiter, Drake puts on his 
 overcoat, which is hanging at the back of the 
 room on the left. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [ While this is going on— to Florence, quietly ^^ Brava I 
 Spoken like a mother ! 
 
 Florence. 
 \In a loiu voice.\ Sweet of you to bury your head in 
 that paper. \Her mouth askew. \ Bar rot, what d'ye think 
 of me ? 
 
LETTY 105 
 
 Nkvill. 
 Proud of you, Tiny. Yes, you're the best of us, far 
 and away. {^Looking at her, half-piiymgly.\ I believe \ou 
 were made for a nursery full of little ones. 
 
 Florence. 
 [ Wincing and leaving hini.'\ Tsch ! 
 
 [ The second waiter hands her the box of chocolate 
 and she Joifis Drake at the back. Nevill 
 walks across to the left, where his hat and coat 
 are hanging. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [77? the second waiter, who hurries to him.\ No, I'll 
 carry it. [Tipping the man. ] Good-night. 
 
 Second Waiter. 
 \Returning to the round table.\ Good-night, sir. 
 
 First Waiter. 
 \At the door on the right. \ Good-night, gentlemen. 
 Good-night, lady, 
 
 \The waiter opens the door upon Frederic, who 
 re-enters. Behind hint is seen a party of men 
 and women. 
 
 Frederic. 
 \To Drake ^w^P'lorence.] Ah, I am sorry 
 
 Drake. 
 
 No importance. Good-night. [Giving his artn to 
 Florence ajid leading- her through the cidva7icing troop 
 — speaking to those outside. \ Allow me 
 
 Neale. 
 [Without.'] Ho, beg pardon ! Pip-pip! 
 
 [Mandeville and Letty appear, followed by 
 Hilda a7id Neale, Marion, Ordish, a?id 
 
126 LETTY 
 
 Perry. With one exception, the newcomers 
 are appropriately dressed — hKTTY p?'ettily and 
 gracefully, Hilda resplendent ly, MariOiN with 
 characteristic neatness. The exception is 
 Okuish, who is wholly z;z black, of a kind, and 
 who wears a white tie, but zuhose frock-coat is 
 still in evidence. IvIandeville's manner is 
 aggressively self-assertive and patronizing ; 
 Hilda and the three male guests display the 
 eagerness of people intent upon making the 
 most of a rare occasion; ivhile Letty has 
 abandoned herself to a condition of excitability 
 and feverish gaiety in which there is an air of 
 desper-ation. Marion alone preserves a calm 
 demeanor. Nevill, seeing Letty and Man- 
 DEVILLE, draws back into the roojn, a?id, with 
 an ugly look upon his face, deliberately awaits 
 the encounter. 
 
 Letty. 
 \As she efiters — over her shoulder.] Is everybody here ? 
 Where's Mr. Perry ? I don't see Mr, Perry. 
 
 Perry. 
 [In the distance.^ Just arrived. Mr. Ordish and I 
 walked. 
 
 Hilda. 
 \Coiinting.\ One — two — three — four — five 
 
 Mandeville. 
 \To Frederic] We're seven. Haw ! Where's the 
 nemi ? 
 
 Frederic. 
 Immediately, Mr. Mandeville. 
 
 [Frederic goes out at the back. 
 
LETIY 127 
 
 Letty. 
 Our cab-horse nearly went down outside the Criterion. 
 If Bernard hadn't caught hold of my arm 
 
 Mandeville. 
 \ Taking oj^ his overcoat.] Waitah ! waitah ! [Coming- 
 face to face with Nevill.J Hullo ! Oh ! \_Loweringly A 
 Good-evening. 
 
 Nevill. 
 \On the left suavely .] How are you, Mr. Mandeville? 
 Pleased to meet you again. \_Boiuing formally to Letty, 
 who siaiids transfixed.] How do you do .? 
 
 \A waiter relieves Mandeville of his hat atid 
 overcoat. 
 
 Hilda. 
 
 \From the further side of the table.] Why, it's 1 
 
 Oh 
 
 Nevill. 
 Ah, Miss Gunning ! 
 
 Hilda. 
 [Coldly.] Oh, good-evening. 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 [To Marion, who is with Hilda.] How are you, 
 Marion ? 
 
 [Coftsiderable bustle nozu takes place at the back. 
 With the aid of their 7fien friends, Hilda rt;/^/ 
 Marion divest themselves of their over-things 
 — the former very fussily, and the waiters move 
 to and fro disposing of these articles and of the 
 men s hats and coats. Ultimately Hilu\— for 
 whom Nevill' s presence is full of interest — 
 seats he7'self, with Marion, on the settee at the 
 back and watches the proceeditigs. 
 
128 LETTY 
 
 Nevill. 
 [During the movement, to Mandeville.] Don't think 
 me quite a trespasser ; I happen to have been dining 
 here. [Fiaitering/y.] No need to tell you, my dear 
 Mr. Mandeville, where to find the best bourgeois cook- 
 ing in London. You are a most valued patron of this 
 establishment, I learn. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 [/// at ease.] Haw ! dessay they've seen a little of my 
 money in their time. 
 
 Nevill. 
 You have come on from the theatre ? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 [Shooting his citffs.'] Alhambra— couple of private 
 boxes and a suppah to wind up with — some friends of 
 Miss Shell's. One likes to give pleashah to people occa- 
 sionally. Haw! Letty 
 
 Letty. 
 [On the right, struggling to collect herself.\ Yes ? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 [To Nevill.] I — haw! — take this opportunity of in- 
 forming you — haw! — [with a wave of the hand towards 
 Letty] vay fiancee. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [After a brief pause, quietly. \ My dear Mr. Mande- 
 ville, pray allow me to offer my hearty congratulations. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Much obliged, I'm shaw. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Looking steadily at Letty, J Not only to yourself 
 
LETTY 129 
 
 [Mandeville, giving- his moustache a twist, 
 makes way fur Nevill. 
 
 Nevill. 
 {Advancing to Letty.] But to this young lady, [ex- 
 tending his hand] whose married life will, I trust, be one 
 of undisturbed felicity. 
 
 Letty. 
 [Tossing her head defiantly.] Bernard and I will have 
 our fair share of bliss, I expect. [Giving him the tips of 
 her fingers and withdrawing them promptly. \ We mean 
 to try "for it at all events— [/t? Mandeville, archly], 
 don't we ? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Haw ! yaas. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Standing between them.] I shall make a point of 
 drinking to your happiness in due season. When is the 
 event to take place ? If I am in England, I shall cer- 
 tainly 
 
 Mandeville. 
 [Mollified by Nevills manner.] Haw ! why not stay 
 and have a drop of champagne with us heah? [Letty 
 barely tepresses a gesture of protest.] I'll give you a glass 
 of '92 Moet. You II appreciate it ; [contemptuously] it's 
 wasted on these fellers — might as well pour it down a 
 drain. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Glancing at Letty.] It is excessively kind of you, 
 Mr. Mandeville 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Oh, I'm one for letting bygones be bygones, where 
 gentlemen are concerned. That's my system — Berny 
 
130 LETTY 
 
 Mancleville'5 system. We've had our jangle, and no 
 harm done — \shakmg hands with Nevill] my paw. 
 What d'ye say ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 \AJter a momenf s hesitation.^ Dehghted. 
 
 [Letty turns away, to the right, and tugs agitat- 
 edly a t the fastening of her cape. F R ED e R i C r^? - 
 appears, with the menu. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 \Facing those at the back, loudly ^^ Haw ! Mr. Perry — 
 Mr. Neale — Mr. — what's-yer-name — my friend, Mr. 
 Nevill Letchmere. Gentleman's going to join us. 
 
 Neale, Ordish, and Perry. 
 \To Nevill.] Good evening, sir. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 \0n the left, snatchijig the carte from Frederic] Look 
 
 alive! We shall be eight — round numbers 
 
 [Frederic represents to Mandeville the diffi- 
 culty of seating the guests. 
 
 Perry. 
 \Bustling up to Nevill.] Proud to come across you 
 again, sir.' If I mistake not, you're the gentleman who 
 was so courteous as to lend me a hand with my camera. 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Lookittg for an opportunity of joining Letty.] Ah, 
 yes. 
 
 Perry. 
 An encounter of a second ; but the eye of the genuine 
 artist in photography is as sensitive, sir — as sensitive 
 
 Mandeville. 
 {Calling to Perry.] Hi ! you ! 
 
LETTY 131 
 
 Perry. 
 
 Me ? 
 
 [//<? goes to Mandeville. At the same moment, 
 Drake is seen at the door on the right. Catch' 
 ing Nevill's eye, Drake beckons to him. 
 Meanwhile Letty hangs up her cape by the 
 mirror on the right and proceeds to tidy her 
 hair. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 [7t? Perry.] A couple of you will have to sit at that 
 side table. 
 
 Perry. 
 /entertain no objection. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 
 Cawn't help it, if you do. It's got to be — see what I 
 
 mean ? 
 
 Perry. 
 To me, one seat is equal to another ; although, natur- 
 ally 
 
 Mandeville. 
 I'm busy ; you run along and play. 
 
 [Mandeville seats himself astride a chair and 
 discusses the bill of fare with Frederic. 
 Perry returns to his companions. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [At the door on the right — to Drake, coniijiuing a con- 
 versation.] My dear fellow, it would be uncommonly 
 friendly of you if you would. The Urquharts are in 
 Green Street — not much out of your way. 
 
 Drake. 
 Yes, I'll drop Mrs, Crosbie there, with pleasure. 
 
132 LETTY 
 
 Nevill. 
 I'll be with ber in half-an-hour — less — 
 
 Drake. 
 I'll explain. 
 
 [i% withdraws. Nevill closes the door and 
 comes to Letty. 
 
 Nevill. 
 \To Letty.] An odd chance. 
 
 Letty, 
 \Wiih an attempt at lightness.^ Very. 
 
 \She sits upon the sofa, removitig her gloves. He 
 gets rid of his hat and overcoat and stands be- 
 side her, looking down upon her. Through 
 their talk, which is carried on in subdued tones, 
 comes the fnuri?iurofls\A'ti'DKViLi.l£ls voice and 
 of the conversation of those at the further end 
 of the room. 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Bitingly.\ My forecast of events has been speedily 
 justified. 
 
 Letty. 
 Ha! hasn't it ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 Yes, my gentleman didn't take long — - 
 
 Letty. 
 He — he called this evening, directly you had gone. 
 
 Nevill. 
 And found a ready listener. 
 
LETTY 133 
 
 Letty. 
 Why do you adopt that tone ? You advised me to do 
 a thing ; I did it. 
 
 Nevill. 
 The result is none the more palatable, my dear— now 
 that I come to view it closely. I am like a child, eh? I 
 bestow a gift, and cry for it back again. 
 
 Letty. 
 I — I was never yours to bestow. 
 
 Nevill. 
 No? At any rate, the idea of you in that animal's 
 
 sty ! 
 
 Letty. 
 For shame ! how dare you ! 
 
 Mandeville. 
 [Loud/y, to Frederic, who is making no/es.] Oh, 
 strike out the horse d'ceuvre,i( you want to. Knock it 
 
 out 
 
 Nevill. 
 How much have you told him? 
 
 Letty. 
 About yourself? 
 
 Nevill. 
 Yes. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 [As de/ore.] Begin with the consomay 
 
 Letty. 
 Not a word against you. I wouldn't, in spite of ail. 
 He believes you have been an ordinary, good friend to 
 
134 LETTY 
 
 nie, and that I've known you to be a manied man 
 throughout. 
 
 Nevill. 
 I marvelled at his amiabihty ! 
 
 Letty. 
 Of course, the girls know otherwise ; I couldn't blind 
 them. But they'll keep it to themselves. 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Sjieeringly.'\ I may hope, then, for a place in your 
 circle after your marriage. 
 
 Lettv. 
 
 No, no, no ! You mustn't ever — you sha'n't Oh, 
 
 if you've a spark of feeling in you ! 
 
 [Mandeville's voice rises angrily. Nevill 
 strolls round to the other side of the sofa. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 \To Frederic] That be blowed for a tale! If I 
 ordah Sole Dieppoise^ I'm bound to have it — see what I 
 mean ? 
 
 Frederic. 
 [Referring to his watch. \ It cannot be done under fif- 
 teen minutes. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Tell the chefio hurry up — and no kitchen-maids on the 
 job! Sole Dieppoisel \ To those at the back.\ Haw! 
 you've never had such a feed as I'm giving you to-night, 
 I'll go bail, 
 
 [ There is a polite chorus of acknowledgment from 
 the men. Frederic iimtters an order to one 
 of the waiters, who goes out hurriedly, and re- 
 sumes receiving instructions from Mande- 
 ville. 
 
LETTY 
 
 135 
 
 Nevill. 
 [At Letty's side again.] May I compliment you on 
 the frock you are wearing ? You were to dine with me 
 one night next week, weren't you? A tete-a-tete dnmiti: 
 — our hrst 
 
 Letty. 
 Tuesday night. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Smiimg grimly.] Tliis is the dainty little garment that 
 was being prepared for me, I fancy .? Our festivity had 
 been delayed for it. 
 
 Letty. 
 [Fingering her sleeve.] It was all I had to put on this 
 evemng. Id nothing else. [Startitig to her feet.] 1 had 
 to be smart. -* 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Covering her with his eyes, his tone softenins;.] Letty 
 why couldn't we have steered clear of each other for a 
 while ! Why couldn t we ! 
 
 Letty, 
 
 tioii?^'^''''"'^'-' ^^^' ^""^ ^^^ ^'°" -""'"P^^ at his invita- 
 
 Nevill, 
 I was an ass. Still, I wished to hear from your own 
 
 hps— to be absolutely certain [between his teeth] A 
 
 jealous ass ! -• 
 
 Letty. 
 
 Get away soon, then, now that you've satisfied your- 
 self. Do ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 {With a nod.] As soon as I have drunk a glass of 
 
136 LETTY 
 
 wine. [A note of tenderness in his voice.] Good luck to 
 you ! 
 
 Letty. 
 
 iGrattfutiy.] Ah ! 
 
 [Perceiving that Mandeville is rising, she goes 
 to him swiftly. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 [As he rises, to Frederic. | No magnums of the '92 ! 
 Put half-a-dozen bottles on the ice, to start with. 
 
 [Frederic, havitig given some further directions, 
 withdraws. Ihe waiters, who have been busily 
 coming and going, now finish the laying of the 
 round table, which is prepared for six persons, 
 a?id afterwards lay the smaller table for two. 
 
 Letty. 
 \To Mandeville, slipping her arm through his.\ 
 What a supper you are ordering ! I've been listening. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Precious sight too good for this crowd. 
 
 Letty. 
 They'll hear ! 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Rump-steak and onions more their form. 
 
 Letty. 
 No, no ; you can't guess how they'll enjoy it. 
 
 [Nevill has again picked up the evening paper, 
 which he has left upon the sofa. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 [Leaving Letty and advancing to him.\ Late edition ? 
 
LETTY 137 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Handing him the paper.\ Yes. 
 
 Man DEVI LLE, 
 
 \Seating himself upon the sofa aiid becoming absorbed in 
 the financial column. '\ Haw! thanks. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Vanderleyden's death will cause quite a panic in the 
 American market ? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 \Not looking tip. ] Maybe. 
 
 {Nevill turns on his heel and joins the ladies at 
 the back. Letty is ftozv with Marion and 
 Hilda, laughing and talking with forced an- 
 imation. 
 
 Letty. 
 \Loudly.\ Ha, ha, ha, ha ! 
 
 [Perry, seeing that Mandeville is alone, de- 
 taches himself fvm the others and comes to him. 
 softly. 
 
 Perry. 
 \Behind his hand.'\ Ahem ! 
 
 Mandeville. 
 [Raising his eyes mome7itarily.\ Hey ? 
 
 Perry. 
 I — ahem ! — I have been wondering during the even- 
 ing, Mr. Mandeville, whether, upon the occasion of your 
 wedding, you will observe the pretty custom of — ah — 
 standing for your portrait ? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 To you ? 
 
138 LETTY 
 
 Perry. 
 [Ass^;i/m^/y.] With your bride's arm in yours. Or she 
 upon a chair, you bending over her in an attitude of af- 
 iection 
 
 Mandeville. 
 \Tiir7iing the paper.~\ Hope it hasn't spoilt your even- 
 ing. 
 
 Perry. 
 Oh, no ; far from it. ^Extracting a card from a 
 pocket-book.'] As a study of still hfe, we also obtain 
 charming results from the cake. 
 
 « 
 Mandeville. 
 
 [Curt/y.] Doyer? 
 
 Perry. 
 \Presenting his cant.] My private abode is in Langham 
 Street ; this is my studio. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 [G/ancing at the can/] Edgvvare Road ! 
 
 Perry. 
 The merit of the artist is the main consideration. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Dessay. 
 
 Perry. 
 I may remark, however, that I am not without the 
 prospect of being able shortly to shift my basis of opera- 
 tions to a more fashionable quarter. An uncle of mine, 
 a large draper in the Holloway district, has the strongest 
 
 belief in me 
 
 [Neale f707i/ approaches, attempting to intrude 
 himself between Mandeville i^;/<'? Perry. 
 
LETTY 139 
 
 Perry, 
 
 [To Neale.] One moment, Mr. Neale ; Mr. Mande- 
 viile and 1 are talking business. 
 
 Neale. 
 Ho! 
 
 [Neale moves away and presejiily reappears at 
 the other side of the so/a. 
 
 Perry. 
 [^To Mandeville. mysteriously.] I suppose, sir, in the 
 event of the formation of a syndicate, you wouldn't care 
 to come in? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Well, yer see 
 
 Perry. 
 [Eagerly.] Yes? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Yer see, I'm still fairly young and energetic 
 
 Perry. 
 Ah, indeed. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 And 1 don't think it 'ud amuse me to make a big for- 
 tune as rapidly as all that. 
 
 Perry. 
 [Sti^y.] I am obliged. 
 
 [Perry rejoins the others. Mandeville crum- 
 ples Perry's card and throius it under the sofa. 
 
 Neale. 
 \To Mandeville.] Rather rummy taste, seems to me 
 — bothering you with his rubbishing concerns. 
 
140 LETTY 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Gentleman's got a good thing on. Pity you're not a 
 capitalist. 
 
 Neale. 
 Talking of a good thing, I expect you'll be smarten- 
 ing-up at home before long? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 What are yer driving at — smartening-up ? 
 
 Neale. 
 Making your drawin'-room a bit gayer; furnishing 
 and decorating a boudvvar for the wife, perhaps. [Search- 
 ing his pockets for a cani.] If so, you might give a 
 thought to your humble. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 What' sj/^//r line? 
 
 Neale. 
 Carpels and linoleum, strictly speaking. But I can 
 get you thirty per cent, off any blessed article you choose 
 to name, from an Old Master to a sanitary dust-bin. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 \^[ndifferently.'\ Haw ! if you've a cawd on you 
 
 Neale. 
 Because a party of your description is rolling in it, he 
 
 doesn't want to chuck it about, does he? Oh, here 
 
 \^fi7idiiig a card i7t a bundle of dirty letters a7id handing it 
 to Mandeville, who pockets it.\ Why, even if you 
 wanted to hang a few pearls round her swan-like, I could 
 
 introduce you to a Johnny 
 
 f//<? breaks off ttpofi seeing Ov^xn^Yi, who presc7tts 
 himself, with a fiervous, diffident air, on Man- 
 deville's right. 
 
LETTY 141 
 
 Neale. 
 {To Mandeville.] Those performing dogs fairly hit 
 nie. Thought 1 should have bust. 
 
 {He moves away, whistling. 
 
 Ordish. 
 \To Mandeville.] Yes, they were amazingly enter- 
 taining, those animals. I don't know when I've spent a 
 more exhilarating evening. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 {Resuming his reading.] Haw ! 
 
 Ordish. 
 And now, this sumptuous repast. Every luxury which 
 fastidiousness can dictate and liberality supply. A grand 
 culmination. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 {Sarcas/ica//y.] 'Tain't a bad finish. 
 
 Ordish. 
 But there is one danger we must always guard against, 
 sir. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Danger — what danger? 
 
 Ordish. 
 We must never allow transient delights of this nature 
 to blind us to our solemn responsibilities. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 {Loo/eing tip. ] What the ! 
 
 Ordish. 
 {Searching f 07' a card among the miscellaneous contents 
 of his pockets. \ Take the quesUon of insurance, for in- 
 
142 LETTY 
 
 stance — a most vital matter to a person on the eve of 
 marriage. [iMandeville hiys the paper aside aiigrily.\ 
 It is with no wish to dampen your spirits, sir, that 1 re- 
 mind you that in the midst of hfe — — 
 
 Mandeville, 
 IRising.'X Well. I'm ! 
 
 Ordish. 
 \Offering his card.'] I shall be happy at any time to 
 discuss v/ith you the manifold advantages of a terminable 
 endowment policy 
 
 First Waiter. 
 ^Appearing before Mandeville.] Supper is ready, sir. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 \Loudly.'\ Suppah ! suppah ! 
 
 Ordish. 
 With a quinquennial division of profits 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Oh, hang ! 
 
 \He passes Ordish and advances to the circular 
 table, at which the waiters have now arrant^id 
 the chairs. Mandeville's guests— it it b^ the 
 exception of Nevill, who holds alooj, ana 
 Perry, who stands by the smaller table — gather 
 rou7ui, waitiftg to be placed. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 [^Taki77g a chair atid pointiiig to the seat on his right.] 
 Haw I Letty, you sit heah. Sit down, all of yer. [Jo 
 Marion, indicating the chair on his hft.] Heah ! ) ou 
 come heah. 
 
 [^Everybody sits, save Nevill andV^WRY. A col- 
 lision betweeri Hilda and Ordish aniusa 
 Letty and she shrieks with laughter. 
 
LETTY 143 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Who sits at the side-table ? Hullo. Letchmeie ! for- 
 got you. Pawdon. Heah ! somebody make room for 
 Mr. Letch me re. 
 
 Ordish. 
 [Rising.] I'll oblige the gentleman. 
 
 Neale. 
 [W/io is seated on Letty's right, rising.] I'm wilhng. 
 
 Letty. 
 [Detaining Neale with a quick moveme7it.\ No, no ; 
 not you ! 1 — i want iMr. Neale on my other side. 
 
 Nevill. 
 ^ [To Mandeville.] Pray let nobody be incommoded. 
 I've only just dined, remember. A glass of wine to 
 drink your health— [^^/«^ to the sofa\ this will do ad- 
 mirably. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 You must have a gal, then, to keep you company. [To 
 
 Hilda] Haw! Miss Gunning 
 
 [Hilda, her viouth full, a7id carrying her broken 
 roll of bread and her serviette, transfers herself 
 to the chair by the small table. Nevill sits, 
 facing her, upon the sofa, while Perry /rt/^^5 
 his seat at the round table. All, except 
 Nevill, fall to upon the soup. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Waitah, champagne ! 
 
 First Waiter. 
 Yes, sir. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 [To those at the roimd table.] You don't get soup of 
 this sort every day of the week. 
 
144 LETTY 
 
 Ordish. 
 
 True. 
 Hear, hear ! 
 
 Neale. 
 
 Marion. 
 It's delicious. I'm really hungry. 
 
 Perry. 
 It's so clear. Its clearness astonishes me. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Of course it's clear; it's consomay. [OJ'enswe/y.] 
 Don't know what consomay is, perhaps? 
 
 Letty. 
 [ Under her breath . ] Hush! oh , hush! 
 
 Mandeville. 
 \Turning to her in surprise. \ Eh ? 
 
 Letty. 
 {^Checking herself. \ Ha! . . . [gaiiy.\ Change 
 loaves with me ; yours is more attractive than mine. 
 
 Neale. 
 They strain it ; that's what they do — they strain it. 
 
 Ordish. 
 I should doubt that. If I were asked 
 
 Neale. 
 I tell you they strain it, Jimmy ; through a cloth, or 
 throui^h long, white, conical bags — \t'wisting his table- 
 napkin into the form of a sugar-loaf ^ this shape 
 
LETTY 145 
 
 Letty. 
 
 Similar to the hats the musical clowns were wearing to- 
 night. Ha, ha! 
 
 Neale. 
 Great Ned, how screaming they were, those clowns! 
 
 Letty. 
 Weren't they ! 
 
 Neale- 
 \Putiing the napkin on his head.^ When the long chap 
 
 fell on the little 'un ! 
 
 Letty. 
 Yes, the funny little one ! 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Haw ! you haven't sat in a private-box very often, any 
 of you^ I'll bet a guinea. 
 
 Ordish, 
 I've not, lately. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Haw, haw! lately! Why cawn't you say you never 
 have, hke a man ? 
 
 Letty. 
 \Touching his sleeve. '\ Ah, don't! 
 
 Mandeville. 
 What's wrong? 
 
 Letty. 
 Oh — those clowns! ha, ha, ha! Polly, you thought 
 them amusing? 
 
146 LETTY 
 
 Marion. 
 Amazingly. 
 
 Letty. 
 Ha, ha, ha, ha ! 
 
 Perry. 
 My mother was a great maker of soup. 
 
 Neale. 
 Good old home-made soup ! 
 
 Perry. 
 I beg your pardon, Mr. Neale 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Right ! An English cook's soup ain't worth eating — 
 filth ! That's why 1 come heah — tiiough my own cook's 
 one of the best in London, I've spent hundreds of 
 pounds heah. 
 
 Perry. 
 It was pea-soup my mother excelled at. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Hundreds and hundreds of pounds. 
 
 Neale. 
 Pea-soup ! Ho, ho ! 
 
 Perry. 
 My mother has been dead-and-gone some years, Mr. 
 Neale, and I'll take it as a personal favor — oh, it doesn't 
 signify. 
 
 Ordish. 
 (2uite a young woman, too, I'll be bound. 
 
LETTY 147 
 
 Perry, 
 Thirty-three. Pastry also ! She had thehghtest hanr^ 
 in the world for pastry. 
 
 Ordish. 
 Thirty-three. Now, if she had insured her life when 
 she was one-and-twenty, say for a thousand — lend me a 
 pencil 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Waitah ! 
 
 Ordish. 
 On our new endowment principle, with a quinquennial 
 division of profits 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Waitah, where's that champagne? 
 
 \The glasses are filled, the soitp-bowls removed, 
 and the fish served. The conversation at the 
 round table is now carried on in dumb -show. 
 
 Hilda. 
 f To Nevill, between the courses, her hauteur gradu- 
 ally melting.^ You'll excuse my not being chatty ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 {Who has been watching Letty thoughtfully from under 
 his brows.'] Certainly. 
 
 Hilda. 
 At these fashionable restrongs it doesn't do to get be- 
 hind ; they whip your plate away before you know wbeir- 
 you are. \Dropping her voice and leaning forward, hei 
 elbows on the table!] I say, I wasn't aware that you and 
 — \ivith a motion of the head torvardsVih^V)'^v\\A.Y?^ are 
 acquainted. What a magnificent match for her ! 
 
148 LEJTY 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Movmg nearer to her, speaking in undertones.\ Most 
 advantageous. 
 
 Hilda. 
 He does scatter it, too. 
 
 Nevill. 
 There is every evidence of it. 
 
 Hilda. 
 We might have been princesses, at the Alhambra. 
 Each lady had her own programme, and sweets during 
 the selections by the band. Lavish, I call it. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Lavish is the exact word. 
 
 [ There is a boisterous laugh from Letty. 
 
 Hilda. 
 [7<7 Nevill.] Ah, I do pat myself on the back over 
 this. I've prophesied it from the very beginning. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Indeed? 
 
 Hilda. 
 Yes, I only wish I had as many sovereigns as times 
 
 I've called her, in chaff, Mrs. M , Mrs. Bernard M. 
 
 \Drinki7ig her wine.] That's why it drove me wild to see 
 her making herself such a fearful juggins. \Sjnackijtg 
 her tips.] Champagne's my wine. 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 Such a ? 
 
 Hilda. 
 Juggins. Wasting her evenings on you ! You don't 
 object to my candor ? 
 
LETTY 149 
 
 Nevill. 
 I admire it. A fine quality. ^ 
 
 Hilda. 
 I'm nothing if not candid. [IVi^/i pride.] I've lost 
 some of my best friends through it. 
 
 Nevill. 
 I've no doubt. 
 
 Hilda. 
 [Severe/y.] Upon my word, I wonder I talk to you at 
 all. Oh, you ought to blush for yourself, really you 
 ought. 
 
 Nevill. 
 {Laiighi?igly.'\ My dear Hilda! 
 
 Hilda. 
 Never to have told her you're a married man! 
 Double-face! But I guessed it. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Did you ? 
 
 Hilda. 
 Did I ! I wish I had as many sovereigns as times I've 
 said to her, " Letty, I'm sure that chap's tied-up with 
 
 some other female " 
 
 [A waiter now offers her the dish of sole. She 
 helps herself. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Sole ? 
 
 Waiter. 
 
 Sole Dieppoise. 
 
150 LETTY 
 
 Hilda. 
 What's all this — mussels ? 
 
 Waiter. 
 Yes, lady. 
 
 Hilda. 
 I'm the last, aren't I? [To Nevill.] You're not ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 No. 
 
 [She empties the dish and the waiter moves away. 
 
 Hilda. 
 
 \Eating, to Nevill.] You'll excuse my leaving off 
 talking ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 I mourn the loss but recognize the necessity. 
 
 Hilda. 
 \Glancitig up at hi?n sternly.'] Don't you give me any 
 of your nonsense, please. 
 
 [ The conversation at the round table is resumed, 
 aloud. 
 
 Perry. 
 A rather novel dish, if I may be permitted the obser- 
 vation. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Sole Dieppoise — sole with mussels. Great delicacy 
 prepared this way. 
 
 Neale. 
 Decidedly tasty, must admit. 
 Perry. 
 Mussels? \l7tnocently.\ Dear me, what a prejudice 
 there is against mussels ! 
 
LETTY 151 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Prejudice, is there ! 
 
 Perry. 
 Enormous. Many people won't look at a mussel. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Ho, won't they ! 
 
 Perry. 
 Nervous people. And, of course, they have this to go 
 upon 
 
 Mandeville. 
 What? 
 
 Perry. 
 One is continually hearing of indisposition— serious in- 
 disposition — as an after affect 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Look heah, Mister Perry ! 
 
 Perry. 
 Eh? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 If you disapprove of the food that's given you, I tell 
 you what you can do 
 
 Letty. 
 Bernard ! 
 
 Perry. 
 Oh, if I've said anything to offend, I'm sorry. 
 
 Letty. 
 ^ No, no, there's no offence, not the least — {/o Mande- 
 ville] is there ? 
 
152 LETTY 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Ho, no, not the slightest ! 
 
 Neale. 
 
 It is a fact, though. Friend o' mine had a cousin who 
 died of 'em. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 
 \^Throwing his knife and fork down and leaning hack in 
 his chair.\ Phugh ! 
 
 Letty. 
 \HysiericaUy, laying a restraining hand on Mande- 
 ville.] Hush-sh-sh ! ha, ha, ha.1 ^ IVe don't intend to 
 die of them, do we? [£dging closer to him and looking 
 into his face. \ Do we? Do we? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 \In a growl, to her. \ Letty ! 
 
 Letty. 
 [Enticingly.^ Ha, ha ! Ha, ha, ha ! 
 
 Mandeville. 
 [Softening.l Haw! [Pinching her chin. \ Haw, haw ! 
 
 Ordish. 
 According to the insurance tables, poisoning from mus- 
 sels is very prevalent among the humbler classes. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 [Explosive ly.l Humbler classes ! yes! 
 
 Letty. 
 Ha, ha! 
 
 [She feeds him with a mussel at the end of her 
 fork. 
 
LETTF 153 
 
 Ordish. 
 A case came up before our board not long ago. The 
 assured had paid only two premiums, so we lost heavily. 
 One of my introducdons ; my usual fortune. 
 
 Neale. 
 Ho, ho ! 
 
 [Mandeville, a mussel on his fork, repays 
 Letty's attention. 
 
 Letty. 
 [To Mandeville.] Ha, ha, ha ! You silly ! 
 
 Ordish. 
 ^ However, doesn't that go to prove my argument? 
 I'm always repeaUng it ; I'm sick of repeating it. 
 
 Perry. 
 What argument? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 
 [Shouting to Nevill.] Hullo. Letchmere ! how are you 
 getting along ? 
 
 Ordish. 
 
 Why, that in the midst of life— in the very midst of 
 hfe 
 
 Nevill. 
 [H^o, with a scowl, has again been watching 'L^TTY 
 and Mandeville.] Your judgment is a sound one about 
 this '92 Moet, Mr. Mandeville. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Haw ! A glass of all-right and a handsome gal oppo- 
 site yer ! Haw, haw, haw ! [To Letty.] Look at 'em ! 
 look at *em ! 
 
 [Letty turns in her chair to view the pair. 
 
154 
 
 LETTY 
 
 Letty. 
 [Wildly.l Well, Hilda! Isn't this 
 
 isn't this jolly ? 
 
 Eh? Ha, 'ha, ha ! 
 
 [^Hereyes meet Nevill's atid her laugh comes to a 
 full stop. She gives him an appealitig look and 
 her head droops over the back of her chair. 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Qiiietly taki?ig 2ip his glass^^ I am afraid I have to 
 be running away, Mr. Mandeville. Would it be a se- 
 rious interruption to your hospitality if we seized this- 
 moment to drink a toast ? \^Risitig.'\ To our host, Mr. 
 Bernard Mandeville, and to one who is the friend and 
 companion of many who are present — Miss Shell — Miss 
 
 Letty Shell ! 
 
 \lhe guests jwnp up, their glasses in their hands. 
 
 Ordish. 
 
 To be sure ! 
 
 Perry. 
 A — ah — happy inspiration. 
 
 Neale. 
 Hurrah ! 
 
 Marion. 
 Letty— Mr. Mandeville ! 
 
 Hilda. 
 Bless them both ! | To Letty.] You old darling ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 Miss Shell— Mr. Mandeville ! 
 
 \The toast is drunk. 
 
 Neale. 
 Hip, hip ! 
 
LETTY 155 
 
 Hilda. 
 Here ! I say ! [ mping her lips with her tabk-naikinA 
 I propose that Mr. Mandeville leads off by giving her a 
 
 good kiss, and that we all follow suit— chaps and all ! 
 
 [To Mandeville, as the men at the round table wipe their 
 mouths. \ Do you mind ? 
 
 Mandeville. 
 [Putting his arm around Letty's waist and drawing 
 her to him.'^ Haw ! I don't mind ! 
 
 Letty. 
 Oh ! 
 
 [With a cry, she frees herself from him and strug- 
 gles to her feet. As she does so, tlie lights in 
 the room are extinguished. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Hullo ! what's this? [There is a general exclamation of 
 
 surprise. \ Wliat the devil ? Heah ! 
 
 [ The lights are raised, but only to go up and down 
 at shoti, regular intervals. Those who have 
 been standing now resume their seats, with the 
 exception of Nevill, who moves away to fetch 
 his hat and overcoat. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Waitah ! waitah ! 
 
 First Waiter. 
 [Coming to his side.\ Yes, sir ; yes, sir. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Yes, sir, yes, sir ! Stop this ! look at it ! stop it ! 
 
 First Waiter. 
 We cannot 'elp it, sir. We are compelled. It is time. 
 
156 LETTr 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Time ! We're not half through I 
 
 First Waiter. 
 [Stolidly.'] It is very unfortunate. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 
 Rats ! Curse your unfortunate ! Don't stand there 
 jabbering hke an ape ! 
 
 [Frederic, evideiitly ruffled, enters at the back. 
 The waiters proceed to remove the plates and to 
 lay others. The lights now remain steady for a 
 time. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 \To Frederic] Heah I you ! Mister Frederick! 
 
 Frederic. 
 \Co7ning to him.] I am extremely sorry, Mr, Mande- 
 ville 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Sorry ! I tell yer we're not half through. 
 
 Frederic. 
 [ With a shrug.] I asked you to order a simple supper, 
 and you would not. Oh, no, you would not ! [Looking 
 at his watch.] I said I would do my best ; I have done 
 my best. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Best ! Call this yer best ! That's cutting it a bit 
 thick, ain't it ? 
 
 Frederic. 
 It is Saturday night. I cannot prevent twelve o'clock 
 
 from 'appening. 
 
LETTY 157 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Twelve o'clock! Oh, this c-.rsed country ! 
 
 Frederic. 
 
 [IVifh growing excitement.\ I have nothing to do with 
 the management of the country. I have been scolded 
 by my own manager, finely scolded, and that is enough. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 [Hitting the table ?^ Of all the cursed countries ! 
 
 Frederic. 
 The country is not my fault. What I say is 
 
 Mandeville. 
 
 \Rising.\ Now, you listen to me ! 
 
 Frederic. 
 What I say is, Mr. Mandeville, that we find it impos- 
 sible to serve the /^z^55//w— impossible. If the ladies and 
 gentlemen will be satisfied with some cold meat 
 
 Mandeville. 
 Cold meat ! 
 
 Frederic. 
 Some galantine, perhaps ~ ^ 
 
 Letty. 
 Yes, yes. That will do admirably — \to the others] 
 won't it? 
 
 [ There is a chorus of assent. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 
 [ To those at the round table.] You hold your tongues ! 
 
 Frederic. 
 
 And coffee to follow quickly 
 
 [ 7 he lights resume their fiickering. 
 
158 ^ LETTY 
 
 Mandeville. 
 [Furiously. \ Who is \^ that's playing with this cursed 
 liglu? 
 
 Frederic. 
 The manager — Mr. Nerval 
 
 Mandeville. 
 The blighter ! 
 
 [Swearing under his breath, he makes for the door 
 at the back. Ordish, Neale, and Perry 
 rise, and intercept him. 
 
 Ordish, Neale, and Perry. 
 Mr. Mandeville — sir — cold meat — excellent- ! 
 
 Mandeville. 
 
 [Pushing them aside. \ Get out, you ! 
 
 [He disappears, 
 
 Frederic. 
 [ To the waiters^ Inutile d' aller plus loin. II nentend 
 ni a dia ni a hurhau. 
 
 [A shout is heard, followed by the noise of a scuffle ; 
 and at the same momerit the lights in both the 
 roo7n and the passage are switched off, causing 
 total darkness. Then comes another cry, ac- 
 companied by the falling of some heavy object. 
 The womeit shriek and clutch at one another. 
 Perry, Ordish, and Neale gather together 
 at the back, near the door. 
 
 Frederic. 
 Ah ! 
 
 [He and the waiters find their way out of the room. 
 Neale produces a match-box and strikes a 
 light. 
 
LETTr 159 
 
 Neale. 
 [In a whisper. ^ Great Ned ! 
 
 Perry. 
 What has occurred ? 
 
 Ordish. 
 Something. 
 
 Neale. 
 
 In the midst o' life, cockey ! 
 
 [The confused somid of many voices, gradually 
 increasing in volume, now comes from the 
 passage. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Hark ! 
 
 Marion. 
 Oh, dear! 
 
 Neale. 
 Tell you what it is, sweet pals 
 
 Perry. 
 Hush ! ' 
 
 Neale. 
 If we're not careful, we shall find ourselves in quod. 
 
 Ordish. 
 
 Quick ! let's hear ! \The lights are switched on. 
 
 Perry, Neale and Ordish. 
 Ah! 
 
 Ordish. 
 Charley — Mr. Perry 
 
160 LETTY 
 
 Neale and Perry. 
 Eh? 
 
 Ordish. 
 Oughtn't we to go and see ? 
 
 Neale. 
 You may. 
 
 Perry. 
 No harm in looking on, 
 
 [ The first waiter enters quickly and seises a carafe 
 of water and a napkin. 
 
 Perry, Neale and Ordish. 
 What is it ! What's up ? Who is it ? 
 
 Waiter. 
 
 Mr. Nerval 
 
 \^He hurries away. The hubbub without contifiues 
 unceasingly. Timidly, the three nien go into 
 the passage where, with expressions of dismay 
 upon their faces, they are witnesses of what is 
 taking place in the distance. Nevill joins 
 them, his overcoat tcpon his arm, calmly putting 
 on a glove, 
 
 Hilda. 
 A pretty end to it all, I declare ! Serves me right for 
 waltzing out with any Tom, Dick, or Harry ! 
 
 IVJARION. 
 
 \ Pointing to Letty, who has dropped into a chair ajtd 
 is sitting, dazed, with parted lips and wide-open eyes.] 
 
 Hilda. 
 Next time I make myself cheap 
 
LETTY 161 
 
 Marion. 
 Do be silent ! 
 
 Hilda. 
 Oh, silence yourself! A perfect brute— a raging, wild 
 animal ! 
 
 Marion. 
 How can you? 
 
 Hilda. 
 What's the Zoo doing ? Married or not, the other dear 
 boy's worth a million of him. Give tne Letchmere ! 
 
 Neale. 
 iLooking into the room.'\ Phst ! one of you girls ! 
 
 Marion. 
 What ? 
 
 Neale. 
 
 \^Beckoning\ You're wanted. 
 
 [Marion joins him and presejitly disappears. 
 Hilda follows her; luhereupon Ordish, 
 Neale, and Perry, gaining courage, also 
 pass out of sis^ht. The hubbub goes on in a 
 continuous murmur. Nevill slowly ap- 
 proaches Letty. 
 
 Nevill. 
 \By herside:\ Don't be alarmed ; old Nerval is more 
 scared than hurt. A lump has been raised on that shiny 
 bald head of his. These affairs are invariably adjusted 
 amicably. [Gently.] Poor httle woman ! 
 
 [She makes no response. He touches her. 
 
 Letty. 
 [Raising her eyes for an instant. 'i You going ? . 
 
162 LETTY 
 
 \He shrugs his shoulders. She rises, her ears 
 strained to catch the distant c/a?nor. 
 
 Nevill. 
 l^After a pause.'] This won't do. You couldn't bear 
 this. 
 
 \Moistening her lips with her tongue, she also 
 shrugs her shoulders. 
 
 Nevill, 
 \Eagerly.\ You couldn't — could you? 
 
 Letty. 
 I — I wish you hadn't seen it. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Letty 
 
 Letty. 
 Oh, I wish you hadn't seen it. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Letty — don't go back. 
 
 Letty. 
 Not go — eh } 
 
 Nevill. 
 Don't try to go back to it all. It's of no use 
 struggling. Come to t7ie. 
 
 Letty. 
 [/;/ a stifled voice.] What ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 Dnmn him! you won't take him on after this? You'll 
 
 hnve liim about you to-morrow, you know, half sulky, 
 
 half penitent Will you kiss and be friends? \She 
 
 shivers.] Come to me. [In her ear.] You see, it is the 
 
LETTY 163 
 
 inevitable, my dear. Come ! [She shakes her head, her 
 eyes full of fright?^ Let us talk things over, at least. 
 Let's talk things over. Letty 
 
 Letty. 
 \V — when ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 To-night. \A pause. \ You will ? 
 
 \She stands quite still. Laying his hat and coat 
 aside, he produces a card-case, withdraws a 
 card from it, and writes on the card with a 
 pencil. 
 
 Nevill. 
 \As he scribbles.^ Be careful not to raise this cur's 
 suspicions. When he has left you at your door, jump 
 into a cab and come down town again. I have to go on 
 to Green Street. It's a nuisance ; but I'll be home as 
 soon as possible. You understand ? [She nods.] If you 
 arrive before I do, show this to the hall-porter and he'll 
 get my servant up. [ //anding her the card.] No need to 
 be frightened ; you'll be treated with every respect. 
 Where are you going to put it ? 
 
 Letty. 
 
 [Slipping the card into her bodice with tre77ibling 
 fingers.] Here. 
 
 Nevill. 
 You won't sell me — not sell me ? Don't sell me ! 
 
 Letty. 
 N — no, 
 
 Nevill. 
 [In another tone, as he takes tip his hat and overcoat.] 
 Make my apologies to — [ghmcing towards the passage] 
 will you ? 
 
164 LETTY 
 
 Letty. 
 Yes. 
 
 [//e smiles npo7i her and, turning away, goes out 
 with quick strides at the door on tlie m^ht. 
 For a moment or tzvo she doesn t stir ; then she 
 creeps to the door at the back and peers into the 
 passage. I he tumiiit increases, comes nearer, 
 and site slowly backs away from it. 
 
 Mandeville. 
 \His voice rising above the uproar.\ Haw ! I give ten 
 sovereigns to the French Hospital — ten golden sovereigns 
 
 — see what I mean? 
 
 {^Ihe curtain falls. 
 
 END OF THE THIRD ACT. 
 
THE FOURTH ACT 
 
 The scene is that of the first act. 
 
 The dispositmi of the furniture on the left is altered. 
 The settee has been moved to the right of the table and 
 stands out almost to the middle of the room, and be- 
 tween the table and the spectator is a solitary chair set 
 to face the windows. The rest of the chairs have been 
 restored to places against the walls. Upon the table 
 is a large silver tray upon which are decanters of 
 spirits, glasses, syphons and bottles of aerated waters, 
 etc., etc. 
 
 The doors are closed and the room is in darkness. 
 [A sharp pattering of rain is heard upon the win- 
 dow-panes. After a little while it ceases ; and 
 then the door on the left is opened by RuGG who 
 enters and szviiches on the light. Letty, 
 Marion, attd Hii^iyA— dressed as in the previ- 
 ous act— are seen to be waiting in the corridor, 
 which is already lighted. RuGG has the ap- 
 pearance of a man disturbed in his preparations 
 for retiring to rest. 
 
 RUGG. 
 
 \By the door.] This way. please. 
 
 [Letty advances to the back of the settee on the 
 left a7id stands there rvith a look partly of 
 abaseme7it, partly of sullenness. The others 
 folloiv. Marion retreats to the end of the 
 room and takes up a position riear the writing- 
 table : Hilda crosses to the settee on the 
 right where she proceeds to dab her cloak and 
 skirt with her handkerchief 
 
166 LETTY 
 
 RUGG. 
 
 \_Referr'ing to tke card bearing NEViLh' s message, which 
 he has in hand— to Letty.] Er — these young ladies are 
 with you, I presume, miss? 
 
 Letty. 
 [/;/ a low voice. ^ Yes. 
 
 RUGG. 
 
 \To HiLDA.J Can I be of any assistance, miss? 
 
 Hilda. 
 Thanks; don't you bother. What a shower ! 
 
 RuGG. 
 Yes, miss ; this ought to cool the air. \Regardinsr 
 Letty inquisitive /y.'] Won't you take a seat, miss? 
 \ Avoiding his gaze, she seats herself upon the settee on the 
 /eft.'\ I beg you ladies will excuse my attire. Fact is, it's 
 not my habit to remain up for Mr. Letchmere unless 
 specially asked. 
 
 [Obtaini)ig no further response, the man bestows a 
 fnaltook iip07i the girls and withdraws si ft ly ■ 
 
 Hilda. 
 
 \ After a glajtce at the door — still occupied in 7-enwving 
 the 7'ain spotsA^ Why we must all tumble out of the cab 
 in Bond Street, and sneak round here as though v\e')e 
 burglars, is beyond me. I'm for dashing up to a house. 
 Great Scot, my shoes ! 
 
 Letty. 
 {^Her eyes fixed upon the carpet. \ Mr. Letchmere is not 
 in yet. What do you intend to do ? 
 
 Marion. 
 \lVho, upon the ivithdrawal of RUGG, approaches 
 Letty.] Wait — \{ yoit decide to wait. 
 
LETTY 167 
 
 Letty. 
 He — he'll consider it a great liberty. 
 
 Marion. 
 Because you show him you've too much respect for 
 yourself to come here alone ! 
 
 Letty. 
 {Without lifting her eyes or raising her voice.\ Well, 
 I — / consider it a liberty. I resent it. P^ollowing me in 
 this fashion— jumping into my cab uninvited — keeping 
 close beside me ! as if I were a child, or not responsible 
 for my actions 1 I resent it. 
 
 Hilda. 
 / didn't get into your hansom till I saw Marion there. 
 One couldn't help feeling curious 
 
 Letty. 
 Oh, you know I'm not alluding to you, Hilda. 
 
 Marion. 
 \Bitterly.\ Ha! No, Hilda isn't the encumbrance. 
 But then, she's a weathercock — ready to turn at the 
 slightest puff. 
 
 Hilda. 
 
 I" Taking off her hat and shaking it.] I advise you to be 
 careful of your expressions, Miss Allardyce. 
 
 Marion. 
 [Bending over Lktty.] Letty — Letty, I've no desire to 
 intrude. I'm not enamored of these rooms, I assure you. 
 I'm sorry I forced my company on you. Letty, promise 
 me that Hilda remains with you and brings you home, 
 and I'll take myself off instantly. 
 
 Letty. 
 Thank you, I — I prefer to make no promises. 
 
168 LET TV 
 
 Marion. 
 Oh, don't be wilful ! Letty, it's Sunday. 
 
 Letty. 
 I'm not fatigued. And I don't go to the office on Mon- 
 day — to face tliat beast ; I can keep late hours now. 
 
 Marion. 
 [Pdrsts/eN//j/.] That's not the point ; the point is your 
 being here. I'/b Hilda w/w, seated upon the settee on the 
 right, is Jiicking the trimmings of her hat.\ Hilda, do 
 back me up! It's nearly one o'clock in the morning. 
 Hilda! 
 
 Hilda. 
 [ With her dra'wl.\ What's the matter with one o'clock 
 in the morning ? 
 
 Marion, 
 Eh? 
 
 Hilda. 
 She's told you Letchmere wants a quiet little talk with 
 her. When a gentleman's behaved rather deceitfully to 
 a young person and is eager to get on good terms with 
 her again 
 
 Marion. 
 \ScornfuUy?^ Good terms ! 
 
 Hilda. 
 The sooner he's given the opportunity the better. 
 
 Marion. 
 Why he should be given it all passes my comprehen- 
 sion. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Why ! \In an outburst.\ Oh, what's needed in this 
 
LETTr 169 
 
 business is a bit of plain, unadulterated common- 
 sense ] 
 
 Marion. 
 I agree. 
 
 Hilda. 
 And considerably less Young Women's Christian As- 
 sociation. I'm for downright common-sense, 1 am. 
 
 Marion. 
 And I. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Are you ! It isn't common-sense, then, to expect a 
 girl who's in love with a chap hke Letchmere to drop him, 
 to order, at short notice. 
 
 Marion. 
 Not when she discovers the kind of " chap " he is! 
 
 Hilda. 
 There you go ! One would imagine the world's noth- 
 ing but Sunday-school, to hear you. Afj; world isn't, at 
 all events. [Lo//i/y.] I don't belong to that jiiongde. 
 
 Marion. 
 In any "ww«rt5?"— in any walk of hfe, a woman's duty 
 to herself under such circumstances is pretty obvious, I 
 should have thought. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Pi\\,youd\\di.x^ thought. 
 
 Marion. 
 
 To hold her head erect ; raise it proudly ; take a clear 
 view of things ! 
 
170 LETTY 
 
 Hilda. 
 A clear view — exactly. Only, as my aunt used to re- 
 mark, there's more than one view from the top of a tower. 
 \Rising, as she puts ott her hat mid secures it with a pin.] 
 Of course, it's a thousand pities the dear boy turns out 
 not to be smgie ; but lliere it is. What can't be cured — 
 an' cetera. ^Surveying herself in the mi?Tor which stands 
 071 the piano.] Scissors 1 the mere idea of that low bully 
 of a Mandeville, after Letchmere 1 I could have sworn 
 he wouldn't answer, directly she presented him as her 
 affianced. 
 
 Marion. 
 You could have sworn it, could you ! 
 
 Hilda. 
 
 [Taking up her gloves, which she has laid aside on en- 
 tering, and walking about the room while she draws them 
 on.] Oil, I hid my true sentiments. 1 have my share of 
 tact, I flatter myself. As Ma Watkins is continually 
 drumming into us : " cut is all very fine ; material's all 
 very fine ; but when everything's said and done, it's tact 
 that sells the gown." 
 
 Marion. 
 [To Ujlt>a, dutzvatching Letty keenly.] Well! it may 
 be my denseness, but you've not quite succeeded in con- 
 vincing me that a continued acquaintance with Mr. 
 Letchmere is indispensable to Letty. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Oh, I can't supply brains 
 
 Marion. 
 
 Granted he's made her fond of him— the scamp! — a 
 few weeks' change of scene will serve to set that right. 
 
LETTY 171 
 
 Hilda. 
 A pokey bed-sitting-room at the seaside ; photos of 
 tlie landlady's husband and brats on the aiantei-blielf ! 
 Yes, that'll iielp, won't il ! 
 
 Marion. 
 And then, when we find her a comfortable, new 
 berth ; when she resumes her employment, occupies her 
 mind 
 
 Hilda. 
 [Pausm^ in Jier -wa//j.] Work ! 
 
 Marion. 
 Work. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Ha! 
 
 Marion. 
 Yes, work. [/7o//jf.] What's the matter with work? 
 
 Hilda. 
 Pertness isn't ari^niment. Oblige me. \Exte7iding her 
 hand condescendini^ly, in inviiation to Marion to button 
 her g/ove.'\ Work! Why, you ^r^mV work when you've 
 had such a slip-up as she's had — not for months, at any 
 rate. 
 
 Marion. 
 [Buttoning the olove.'] Can't! She must. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Rubbish ! you can't sober down as if nothing had 
 happened. Oh, where's your common-sense ! You can't 
 do it. 
 
 Marion. 
 Then what on earth is her future to be, do you sup- 
 pose 1 
 
173 LETTY 
 
 Hilda. 
 You're all thumbs. Her future ? 
 
 Marion. 
 Her future. How is she to exist ? 
 
 Hilda. 
 [Ca/m/y.\ Oh, let's hope that that's the question he's 
 going to settle for her in a minute or two. 
 
 Marion. 
 
 \Dropping Hilda's hatid mid staring at her.\ 
 Hilda 1 
 
 Hilda. 
 \Returnmg the stare. \ Hullo ? 
 
 Marion. 
 \BreathlessIy.'\ Great heavens, you're not encouraging 
 
 her ! You — you don't suggest ! yiastening to 
 
 Letty who has beeti sitting almost motionless throughout. \ 
 Letty ! Letty ! Letty, you won't suffer this man to in- 
 fluence you, will you? You wouldn't dream of accept- 
 ing his assistance ! No, you wouldn't ! \Sitting beside 
 Letty and puttifig an arm round her.\ Oh, Letty ! Letty, 
 speak to me ! 
 
 \_Roughly freeing herself from Marion's embrace, 
 Letty jumps up froiii the settee and seats her- 
 self, her back to Marion, i7i the chair on the 
 left. There is a brief silence ; then, with com- 
 pressed lips, Marion rises stiffly. 
 
 Marion. 
 \ln dry, level tones, looking down upon Letty.] Ah, 
 I don't fancy you and I will be able to shake along to- 
 gether any more. \Fastening her jacket. \ I've always 
 tiied to keep an eye on you, but I — I think I'll relieve 
 myself of the task henceforth. Good-night. \Turning 
 
LETTY 173 
 
 away 7'eluciantly.\ Good-night. yPaudng.^ I shall give 
 Mrs. Hill a fortnight's notice on Monday, so far as my 
 share of our place is concerned. 1 shall mo\e out to > . 
 of the suburbs. London — ! . . . Oh, I'm clib.i, - 
 pointed ! 
 
 \She walks to the door. There she halts and 
 beckons Hilda to her. 
 
 Marion. 
 \To Hilda, quietly.\ Hilda Gunning, if you leave her, 
 you'll deserve, when you die, to go straight to — \with a 
 nod] you knov/. 
 
 Hilda. 
 [Freezino^ly.] Wherever I go, Miss AUardyce, I trust 
 it will be to mix with those who are much your superiors. 
 [Marion glances at her contemptuously and de- 
 parts. 
 
 Hilda. 
 
 Impudence! You didn't catch what she said ? Ho ! 
 this is the result of stooping to neighbors, 
 
 [ The outer door slams. Letty raises her head. 
 
 Hilda. 
 \Closing the door of the room and comiiig to Letty.] 
 She can whistle for an invite to another tea-party of mine. 
 Suburbs — the dowdy ! Precisely what she's built for. 
 
 Letty. 
 {Looking ij^to space.] She's done with me. 
 
 Hilda. 
 
 Eh? 
 
 Letty. 
 She's done with me, Hilda. 
 
 Hilda. 
 The boot's on the other leg : you're quit of her. 
 
174 LETTY 
 
 Letty. 
 [Eagerly.'] Perhaps she'll wait about outside, though ! 
 
 perhaps she won't — give me up ! [S/ie rises and 
 
 crosses siviftly to the bay window. Pushing the blind aside, 
 she peers into the street.] The rain's stopped ; she might 
 walk up-and-down — ah, I see her! \A pause.] Mu — 
 no 
 
 Hilda. 
 {Seating herself upon the settee on the left.] No — what ? 
 
 Letty. 
 No — she walks too quickly. She's not going to wait. 
 
 Ah, no, she's turning tlie corner — she's 
 
 [Letty leaves the window and stands leajiing 
 against the chair which is behind the table on 
 the right. She produces her handkeichief and 
 weeps into it silently. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Oh, you are a soft ! Those sort of people can afford to 
 be prim. No gentleman is likely to glance in their di- 
 rection. 
 
 Letty. 
 [ Through her tears — 7tot heeding Hilda.] The suburbs. 
 She's been at me constantly to live in the suburbs with 
 her. There's where simple happiness is to be found, she 
 always contends. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Of course, /don't want to pry into your affairs ; that's 
 not my nature. But whatever you choose to confide \\\ 
 me 
 
 Letty. 
 [Absorbed in her reflections, coining to the chair on the 
 left of the small table.] Simple happiness — fresh air — and 
 — and fewer temptations 
 
LEirr 175 
 
 Hilda. 
 fV/ia^ were the actual words he used at the restrong— 
 chat things ov^r ? 
 
 Letty. 
 Fewer temptations ! 
 
 Hilda. 
 Eh? 
 
 Letty. 
 [Sitting in the chair, her back to Hilda.] Er— yes. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Well, you have got your foot on the ladder this time, I 
 
 do believe. He's as jealous ! I detected that at the 
 
 restrong. And don't forget, he isn't aware that it's off 
 between you and Mr. M. No, you must play your en- 
 gagement to that beauty for all it's worth. Everything 
 favors you ! The dear boy's just in the mood when you 
 can twist him round your little finger. 
 
 Letty. 
 \Still lost in thoiight.\ She has been a good mate to 
 me ; she has been. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Oh, my gracious, how you maunder on about her ! 
 But recollect, all depends on keeping him at a proper 
 distance till you're absolutely certain of him. Don't go 
 making an idiot of yourself. Be icy ; none of 'em can 
 stand that. And be sure you hurry into me directly 
 you're awake; I shall be in a perfect fever — \irritably\ 
 Letty ! 
 
 Letty, 
 [Rousing herself for a 7nonu'nt.] Polly oughtn't to be 
 walking home alone. 
 
na LETTY 
 
 Hilda. 
 Oh, cease it ! No, what he should do is to sign a deed 
 — a regular deed — a what-d'ye-call-it ? — i. settlement. 
 And he will, too, if you're clever. There's the advan- 
 tage of deahng with a thorough gentleman 
 
 Letty. 
 [Suddenly, wUh frightened eyes.\ Hark! 
 
 Hilda. 
 \Afier a silence. ^ Yes, those were cab-wheels. [Rising 
 and going to Letty — loiveritig her voice. \ Remember — 
 cold dignity ; that's your programme. Ah, we shall 
 have you driving up to Madame's before long and giving 
 us a big order — rolling up in your landaulette. Mande- 
 ville's Victoria! half-a-crown an hour, including the 
 cockade ! Yes, we shall see you sweeping into our rooms 
 with your maid at your heels. French maids — they're 
 
 the handiest. A French maid and a landaulette ! 
 
 Look here, don't stop to dress in the morning ; slip your- 
 self into a skirt and jacket and run in 
 
 yrhe door on the left is thrown open and Nevill. 
 enters. At the sa?ne moment RUGG is seen to 
 go into the room on the further side of the corri- 
 dor. Nevill stops short on discovering 
 Hilda. 
 
 Hilda. 
 You'll excuse the freedom ? I came down with her for 
 the sake of the airing, and we thought you wouldn't ob- 
 ject 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 [Removing his gloves.'] It's delightful to find that she 
 liasn't been sitting here yawning in solitude. [Advanc- 
 ing to Letty, zvho has risen.] I've been afflicted with a 
 couple of the slowest cabs in London. [In a^^ undergone.] 
 The quickest would have been tedious 
 
LETTY 177 
 
 Hilda. 
 \^La7tgiiidly.^ Well, you can dispense with my society. 
 [7b Nevill,] You and Letty have arranged to have a 
 little confab together, haven't you ? | Nevill and s/ie 
 walk to the door, 'V.kyty gazmg helplessly at Hilda' b n- 
 treating figure.] You'll bring lier home, of course ; don't 
 keep her too late. [Facing hi in. '\ 1 say, Mr. MandeviUe 
 did get testy at the restrong, didn't he? 
 
 Nevill. 
 The limit of irritability justified by our hcensing laws 
 was slightly exceeded. 
 
 Hilda. 
 yWith intention.] She was inclined to be cross with 
 him at first ; but — as I've been telling her — quick temper, 
 warm heart. 
 
 Nevill. 
 You ladies are models of charity. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Oh, no credit due to me. \_SigniJicantly.'] She doatson 
 him, really, [They disappear.] Don't you fuss about 
 me. You go back to her ; the porter will put me into a 
 hansom. 
 
 [Letty sits upon the settee on the right with closed 
 eyes. The voices in the corridor die away ; 
 and then the outer door is heard to shut and at 
 that Letty' s eyes ope7i widely. Nevill re- 
 enters, gives Letty a nod and a smile, anl, 
 going to the fireplace, rings impatiently. After 
 a short delay, the library door is opened by 
 RuGG, who is carrying an elegant silk smoking- 
 jacket. 'Jhe library is lighted. 
 
 RuGG. 
 \^In the doorway, apologetic ally \ I beg your pardon, 
 sir. 
 
ns LETTY 
 
 [Nevill Joms Jwn and they retire into the library. 
 There RuGG assists Nevill to exchange fas 
 dress-coat for the smo king-jacket. While this 
 is proceeding, a cab whistle is blown in the street 
 immediately beneath the windows. Letty 
 starts ; the whistling is repeated and she listens 
 painfully with parted lips. 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Returning.\ I shall require nothing further. 
 
 RuGG. 
 [RejnainiJig within the library.'] Thank you, sir. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Sorry to have had you down. 
 
 RUGG. 
 
 No consequence at all, sir. 
 
 [RuGG passes out of sight, and Nevill crosses to 
 the door oJi the left as the man enters the corri- 
 dor from the bedroom. 
 
 RUGG. 
 
 \To Nevill.] Good-night, sir. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Good-night. 
 
 [Nevill watches hiju depart. Again the outer 
 door slams, whereupon Nevill closes the door 
 on the left and approaches Letty. 
 
 Nevill. 
 His quarters are at the top of the house. We've seen 
 the last of him. 
 
 Letty. 
 He — he'll think it very strange. 
 
LFATY 179 
 
 Nevill. 
 Not he. And in the course of the morning 1*11 hit 
 upon a plan to smuggle you out unobserved. For the 
 time being, you shall be fixed-up at some quiet hotel. 
 
 Letty. 
 {Staring at Azm.] What, aren't you going to let me — 
 return to my lodgings? 
 
 [Ni's steady gaze answers her and she rises. 
 
 Nevill. 
 You've had your struggle, Letty ; I've had mine also, 
 in a measure. But, as 1 told you at the Cafe Regence, 
 this was inevitable. 
 
 Letty. 
 {Hanging her head.\ No, no. That awful Cafe Re- 
 gence ; tliat was dreadful luck ! If only you had not 
 
 dined there ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 It would have made no material difference. Sooner 
 or later this would have occurred. 
 
 Letty. 
 You say that now. 
 
 Nevill. 
 I've seen it from the first. While I have been sitting 
 with you under the trees in Kensington Gardens, playing 
 the innocent boy — almost persuaded of his existence ! — 
 I have found myself grinning inwardly at my own cred- 
 ulity. I persisted in humoring a delusion ; but, at the 
 back of my head, I was conscious of it being nothing 
 more. 
 
 Letty. 
 [ PPea/e/y.] Delusion ? 
 
180 LETTY 
 
 Nevill. 
 That those artless summer evenings — a dinner or two 
 — a theatre — were to form the whole sum of our acquaint- 
 ance. 
 
 Letty. 
 It was something more. You didn't wish to harm me ; 
 you dotit wish it ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 Of what avail is it what one wishes in these cases ! 
 Yes, I toyed with the idea until the arrival upon the 
 scene of Mr, Mandeville, when I perceived that the 
 pleasant game of innocent boy was at an end and that 
 I had to undeceive you — and myself. Even then I al- 
 lowed you a fair start — a good, sporting run ; there's that 
 to be urged in my favor, Letty. But I caught up with 
 you last night — \grippmg her shoulders] simply because 
 it was bound to be. [In another tone.] My dear child, 
 your cape is wet through. Didn't you drive here ? 
 
 Letty. 
 I dismissed the cab round the corner ; I hadn't the 
 courage . . . am I wet ? . . . the rain came on 
 so suddenly. . . . 
 
 Nevill. 
 Give me the thing. 
 
 I She removes her cape and he hangs it npon some 
 object at the back of the room. Then, mechanic- 
 ally, she iinpins her hat ajid is contemplating 
 it with dull eyes wheji he returns to her. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Softly.'] A sad spectacle, eh? 
 
 Letty. 
 It's spoilt. 
 
LETTV 181 
 
 Nevill. 
 My dear, you shall own half the hats in London on 
 Monday. 
 
 \She places her hat on the piano and, again sitting 
 on the settee on the right, rests her arms upon 
 the head of the settee and buries her face in 
 them. He takes the chair which is nearest to 
 him a?id draws it dose to her. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Sitting.'] We'll indulge in no more talk of that kind. 
 \lVith a wave of the hand.] There are several species of 
 happiness in the world ; we've tasted one, hey for an- 
 other ! And listen. {She quivers.] No, but Lsten. I 
 am anxious that you should understand this clearly. 
 Whatever is in store for us— for you ; whatever the finish 
 of our— friendship may be ; you've done with poverty 
 finally. You shall never again experience the smallest 
 uneasiness on that score. [She raises herself and looks at 
 him with an expressionless face. Taking her hands— 
 which are still gloved— he speaks to her with great earnest- 
 ness.] Yes, I propose to provide for you, my dear, in 
 such a manner that, should I treat you ill, you can snap 
 your fingers at me. At least I'll safeguard you to that 
 extent. You follow me ? Should I be brute enough to 
 prove ungrateful to you hereafter— to grow neglectful of 
 you, or should you tire of me ; you shall be in a position 
 to turn vour back upon me, none the worse— little the 
 worse— for our association. [Slowly but firmly she disen- 
 gages her hands and, with knitted brows, increases the 
 space between Nevill and herself] What is in your 
 mind? 
 
 Letty. 
 
 [In a low voice.] Mr. Letchmere 
 
 Nevill. 
 [/Reproachfully.] Sssh ! Letty ! 
 
182 LETTY 
 
 Letty. 
 
 Nevill — I — I am glad you have spoken to me in this 
 way. 
 
 Nevill. 
 It had to be touched upon. We'll dismiss it. 
 
 Letty. 
 No — wait a minute. I am glad ; for I am as anxious 
 as you are that we should understand each other dis- 
 tinctly. 
 
 Nevill. 
 If there's anything — don't hesitate 
 
 Letty. 
 [Phicking at the fringe of a pillow. 'X It— it's awfully 
 generous of you to— to desire to make me— safe. But 
 no — I won't have that. No, no ; I've some right left to 
 deal with what concerns myself, I suppose, and — not 
 that, if you please. 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 Why, my dear girl, it has been an absorbing ambition 
 with you ! 
 
 Letty. 
 To be comfortably-off ? How clearly you must have 
 seen through me, sitting under the trees of Kensington 
 Gardens ! Yes, I — I did hope to — to marry well one 
 day. I was always fond of telling myself fairy-stories ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 Isn't this a fairy -story ? Can't you regard it in that 
 
 light? 
 
 Letty. 
 Oh, we shall be in paradise, I've no doubt, for a while. 
 Yes, I give you leave to shower as much bHss on me as 
 
LETTY 183 
 
 you possibly can, until— ha !— till I tire of you. But 
 when tlie hour strikes for our good-bye— no money. 1 
 wouldn't! [Her head bent, her hands clenched between 
 her knees.'\ No, if I'm willing to throw my life out of 
 window, I'm willing to pay for it as 1 ought to. But I — 
 I'll not be paid ; you sha'n't fling your purse after me ! 
 {Lifting her head.] You love me ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 I do. On my oath, I do! 
 
 Letty. 
 [ Taking off hergIoves.\ Am I the— hundredth you have 
 said that to? Hush! 1 beg your pardon. You love me 
 at this moment ; that's sufficient, if it is so. {^Laying 
 her gloves aside and extending her hands to him.] For 
 love, then ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 {Pressing her hands to his lips.] Letty I 
 
 Letty. 
 {Jumping up and givi?ig herself a little shake.] Ah — 
 h — h! {Recklessly.] iia ! \ve are a merry pair, aren't 
 we ? Ugh ! {Blowing her serious mood away.'\ Pheugh ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 {Imitating her.] Pheugh! Ha, ha ! 
 
 Letty. 
 Ha, ha, ha ! {Abruptly, holding his arm and shiv- 
 ering.] Ssst! oh, Nevill ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 What ? 
 
 Letty. 
 {Looking down at her shoes, piteously.] Do find me 
 something to slip my feet into. Tiiese are soaked. 
 
184 LETTY 
 
 Nevill. 
 My dear girl ! 
 
 \^He leaves her, enters the library and disappears. 
 She moves about the room excitedly, glanciiig 
 eagerly at its appointments and touching the 
 various articles of fiirjiitu?'e with a caressing 
 hatid as she encounters them. In the end, tit- 
 tering a sigh of co7tte?itment, she sinks into the 
 chair on the left, her head thrown back, her 
 arms hanging loosely. Nevill returns, at the 
 door 071 the left, carrying a pair of velvet slip- 
 pers. He closes the door and holds up the slip- 
 pers before her in triumph. 
 
 Letty. 
 {^Delightedly .^ Ha! they're capital. You dear fellow ! 
 \He hands her the slippers, from the further side 
 of the settee. Then, standing at the large table, 
 he proceeds to mix a drink. 
 
 Nevill. 
 You should have asked for them before. You'll catch 
 a terrible cold. 
 
 {Having kicked off her shoes, she rises and displays 
 her slippered feet. 
 
 Letty. 
 Ha, ha! 
 
 Nevill. 
 Ha, ha, ha ! Charming ! 
 
 [Kneelijig upon the settee on the left, she accepts the 
 glass which he offers her. She sips the drink 
 and coughs ; and, at her invitatio7i, he fills the 
 iu77ibler to the bri7n with soda water. The7i he 
 mixes a dri7ikfor hi77iself. 
 
 Nevill, 
 [ While this is goi7tg on.] Letty 
 
LETTY 185 
 
 Letty. 
 
 Eh? 
 
 Nevill. 
 A propos to our paradise— our earthly paradise 
 
 Letty. 
 Our earthly paradise ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 Have you ever travelled ? 
 
 Letty. 
 
 Travelled ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 Abroad. 
 
 Letty. 
 Just a little. Years ago, when I was a child, my dad 
 took me to Boulogne. \He laughs.\ Don't laugh. | 7//r;/- 
 vig her head away.] And recently, I'd have you know, 
 sir, — recently the chance was offered me of visiting 
 Trouville. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Trouville ? 
 
 Letty. 
 
 \_Partly to herself, with a look of detestation.'] Troo — 
 veal. 
 
 Nevill. 
 It would amuse you ? 
 
 Letty. 
 To travel ! [All brightness again.] Ah, yes, yes ; more 
 than I can say ! 
 
186 LETTY 
 
 Nevill. 
 Where shall we make for, at the beginning? 
 
 Letty. 
 Everywhere is novelty to me. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Switzerland ? 
 
 Letty. 
 Switzerland ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 I know the most enchanting spot for people who — for 
 such as ourselves. 
 
 Letty. 
 Do you ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 A village in the Schamser Valley. A deliciously 
 quaint inn — a few straggling houses — a bridge crossing 
 a stream — meadow-land — pine woods 
 
 Letty. 
 Ah ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 Agreed — Switzerland ! Dropping down into Italy af- 
 terwards 
 
 Letty. 
 Ah! 
 
 Nevill. 
 Seeing the September moon in Venice 
 
 Letty. 
 Oh! 
 
LETTY 187 
 
 Nevill, 
 And home by way of Paris. 
 
 Letty. 
 Paris ! 
 
 \^He touches her glass with his and they drink, 
 looking into each other s eyes. 
 
 Letty. 
 {Suddenly. \ Nevill ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 Eh? 
 
 Letty. 
 \Staring into her tunibler.\- Home — by way of Paris. 
 Home ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 Back to London. \She is silent^ You adore London. 
 
 Letty. 
 I — I used to. I shall be frightened of it now, though. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Frightened 1 
 
 Letty. 
 You are among your grand friends in London. In 
 London you might — you might 
 
 Nevill. 
 What? 
 
 Letty. 
 \In a whisper, appealingly.'] I might tire of you. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Tscht ! forget that. We'll merely pause to refit, then, 
 and be off to Egypt. 
 
188 LEJTY 
 
 Letty. 
 {^Depositing her glass upon the table.] Yes, yes— off im- 
 niediaiely. [Leanuig against the back of the settee, ecstat- 
 ically.] Switzerland ! Italy ! Paris ! Off again ! 
 
 Egypt ! {He has produced his cigarette case and 
 
 lighted a cigarette. He now comes from behind the settee.] 
 When do we start ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 {Giving her a cigarette.] How long will it take the 
 milliners to prepare you? [She lights her cigarette from 
 his. To steady her, he places his hand behind her head. 
 Then he withdraws his hand, glances at it, and again 
 touches her head.] You foolish little woman — not to have 
 driven up to the door ! 
 
 Lettv. 
 
 \_Putting her hand to her head.] Ah ! the rain 
 
 {Rising, she removes the imitation tortoise-shell pins from 
 her hair and shakes it free over her shoulders.] It will 
 soon dry. {She lays the pins upon the table on the right. 
 He follows her.] 1 think I could be ready at the end of 
 next week, by rushing round frantically. 
 
 Nevill. 
 {Gaily.] The end of next week it shall be. 
 
 Letty. 
 
 {Breathlessly i] I shall be the busiest woman in town 
 on Monday morning ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 {Seating himself at the piajio and playing.] And it's Ho 
 for the wild-flowers of the Schamser Thai !' 
 
 Letty. 
 {At the sound of the music] Ah ! {Coming to the settee 
 on the right.] Go on ! That's the duet from "The Gossa- 
 mer Girl — where she is seated upon the swing ! 
 
LETTY 189 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Avdding.'\ Now the man's voice comes in. 
 
 Letty. 
 \_Nest/mg in the pillows of the settee. \ Yes — as he 
 watches lier, standing at the gate ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 The two voices. 
 
 Letty. 
 \Lifting her feet o)t to the settee. ] Ah — h — h ! [ Drowsily, 
 as he finishes.^ Play the pretty piece you played the 
 afternoon we girls first called on you. 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Gettitig rid of his cigarette and 7'esu7ning playing.^ 
 The barcarolle ? 
 
 Letty. 
 \Almost inaudibly .\ The first afternoon ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 \While he plays.\ We shall hear this when we are in 
 
 Venice, you and I — at night, upon the Grand Canal. 
 The musicians move out into the middle of the canal, 
 Letty . . . their barge is hung with colored lanterns 
 . . . we, with a crowd of other gondolas, will steal 
 after them and moor ourselves alongside. ^Ner cigarette 
 drops to the floor.] The moon will be shining . . . 
 you've not seen moonlight until you've seen the Septem- 
 ber moon in Venice [//<? discovers that she is asleep. 
 
 He goes to her afid calls to her softly.] Letty — Letty 
 
 [She 1-aises her head and stares at him. 1 You mustn't fall 
 asleep heie. 
 
 Letty. 
 
 \Bewildered, as he assists her to rise.] Asleep ? 
 
 Have I been — asleep ? 
 
190 LETTY 
 
 \Releasing her hand, he turns sharply towards 
 the door on the left. Then he walks to the cen- 
 tre of the room a?id stands eyeing the door and 
 listening: 
 
 Letty. 
 \Under her breath. \ Oh! what's that? 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Quietly.'\ Nothing. \S7niling at her.] I fancied I 
 heard [ There is a gentle rap at the door. 
 
 Letty. 
 Oh! 
 
 \The knock is repeated and Nevill opens the door. 
 RuGG is in the corridor with a letter, 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Zc? RuGG.] What are you doing there? Why are you 
 still up ? 
 
 RUGG. 
 
 I beg pardon, sir. ^Hafiding Nevill the letter.] I was 
 down-stairs, smoldng a cigarette with Dale, the porter, 
 when a messenger brought this from the office in Picca- 
 dilly. I noticed it was Mrs. Crosbie's handwriting, sir, 
 and I thought it might be important. 
 
 [Nevill reads the letter. As he does so, his face 
 assumes a look of blank dismay. 
 
 RUGG. 
 
 I kept the lad, sir. Any answer, sir? 
 
 Nevill. 
 [^Irresolutely.'] No — yes — yes. I'll ring. 
 
 [RuGG disappears, closing the door. Nevill sits 
 upO}i the settee on the left. 
 
LETTY 
 
 Lettv. 
 What is it? Has anything happened? 
 
 191 
 
 My — my sister- 
 
 Your sister ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 Letty. 
 
 Nevill. 
 My sister, Florence! She — slie'sgone. 
 
 Letty. 
 Gone ? 
 
 Yes, she's bolted. 
 
 I— I don't 
 
 No, j^z/ don't . 
 Nevill ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 Letty. 
 
 Nevill. 
 . Tiny ! 
 
 Letty. 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Rising and speaking to her in a strange, hard voice ^^ 
 You see, there's a young fellow who's very fond of her ; 
 and she's got a swine of a husband ; and Drake — that's 
 tiie boy — Drake and she had determined to end the 
 affair — to bid farewell to each other. The three of us 
 dined at the Regence 
 
 Letty. 
 
 Ah. 
 
192 LETTY 
 
 Nevill, 
 I'd promised not to leave her, you see. She couldn't 
 trust herself; so I promised to stick to her. 
 
 Letty. 
 Didn't you ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 No, I — I broke my word. 
 
 Letty. 
 How ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 She and I were going on to Green Street, to a card- 
 party ; but when you appeared with Mandeville I — 
 [pacing the room] I turned her over to Drake. 
 
 Letty. 
 \Following his movements.] You went to Green Street 
 — you toid me 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 Yes, and she'd been there, and left word that she'd 
 
 chucked it and gone home to bed. That was to put me 
 
 off, of course. I did drive down to Buckingham Gate — 
 
 she lives at Buckingham Gate — but the house was in 
 
 darkness and I naturally concluded [Sitting in the 
 
 chair on the further side of the table on the right and study- 
 ing the letter.] She was scribbling this to me, in Drake's 
 
 rooms, while I was staring up at her window ! Here ! 
 
 \She draws the other chair up to the table and seats her- 
 self. He reads the letter aloud. J " 1 2 . 30. Dearest Ne v i 11 . 
 Do help me by breaking the joyful news to Ivor. I've 
 tried, but under the circumstances the words won't sort 
 themselves. After all I am a genuine Letchmere, Nevill. 
 Coppy is taking me away with him and I am done-for." 
 l^To Letty.] They're in his motor. {Scowling^ It was 
 
LETTY 193 
 
 in readiness ; he had intended travelling during th.e 
 
 night. [Jieading.] " taking me away with him and 
 
 I am done-for. Now that tlie wrench is over, I feel 
 jollier than I have felt for the last five years." [Si^r- 
 Prised.\ Five years! \To Letty. ] She's been married 
 
 rive years! \Reading.\ " jollier than I have felt for 
 
 the last five years. But you were naughty — \after a 
 pause] you were naughty, to let me out of your ^ight. " 
 l//e passes his hand across his brow, then continues.] 
 " I borrowed a coat and hat from Helen Urquhart's 
 maid. Please give the woman a fiver for them on 
 Monday. Adieu — Coppy is fidgetting me to death. Ever 
 your affectionate Tiny. P.S. — It's coming on to rain, so 
 we may have an ugly side-slip and break our silly necks. 
 
 A good job too!" ^Rising-I Ivor — Ivor \Seati71g 
 
 himself at the writing-table ^\ Pardon me. 
 
 Letty. 
 
 {Who has risen with him.] Is he — the husband? 
 
 Nevill. 
 Yes. [At intervals, as he writes a note.] Yes, he's her 
 husband ... Hal . . . Where is the fel- 
 low? . . . Sulking, as usual, over his gin-and-potash 
 at a club . . . the Junior, probably . , . Ply- 
 mouth gin is his tipple at two in the morning — with 
 lemon in it. [Pa^^sing.] I must stop his turning-up here, 
 Letty, before noon at the earliest. Why shouldn't I be 
 driving down to Kew at daybreak, with the tidings, to 
 my father ? That' s credible. [ Writing again. ] How he' II 
 rave, when we do meet . . . and curse . . . 
 and weep! . . . Faugh! he drops out of my 
 world ... - Touch the bell, Letty. [She obeys him. 
 He folds his note.] Short and sweet. \^Enclosi7igii.\ He's 
 got it short and sweet — no lemon in it. [Addressing the 
 
 envelope.] "Ivor — Greatorex — Crosbie " 
 
 [There is a knock at tlie door on the left and Ly-TTY 
 
194 LETTY 
 
 7'etreats to the other side of the room to escape 
 observation. Nevill opens the door upon 
 
 RUGG. 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Givitig him the note.] To Buckingham Gate — no re- 
 ply. 
 
 RUGG. 
 
 Very good, sir. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Write a message on the slate downstairs : Mr. Letch- 
 mere is in to nobody till after mid day. 
 
 RuGG. 
 Yes, sir. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Good-night, again. 
 
 RUGG. 
 
 Good-night, sir. 
 
 [0?ice more Nevill watches the man depart and, 
 upofi hearing the outer door close, shuts the door 
 of the room. Letty advances to Nevill a?td 
 they confront each other for a few moments in 
 silence. Stiddenly he breaks into a peal of 
 laughter. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Ha, ha! Ha. ha, ha, ha! 
 
 Letty. 
 Hush ! don't ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 Ha, ha, ha, ha! One more, gone the same road! 
 
LETTY 195 
 
 One more— genuine Letchmere ! Yes, but I did think 
 she'd succeed in shaping a different course ; I was a 
 damned fool to think it ; but — somehow — I did 
 
 [FaiJifly.] Nevil 
 
 Letty. 
 
 _ ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 She was a dainty httle thing, Letty. She is so still, for 
 
 that matter. [Pointing fo a framed portrait which stands 
 
 on the piano and to another itpon a cabinet on the left. \ 
 
 There she is — and there — over there. Oh, but as a 
 
 gill ! I've some pictures of her as a girl 
 
 [He goes into the library and is heard opening and 
 shutting the drawers of an escritoire. Letty 
 moves about the room agitatedly examining the 
 portraits of Mrs. Crosbie. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [With growing passion] Tiny! Tiny! little Tiny ! By 
 God, she was pretty— yes, and straight! And she'd 
 have remained straight if she had had half a chance. 
 That's it! My sister Florence hasn't had the ghost of a 
 chance. Crosbie ! We stood by and permitted her to 
 marry Crosbie! We married her to Crosbie! [Reap- 
 pearing] He'd blast the soul of any woman breathing, 
 Crosbie would ! 
 
 [He comes from the library carrying some photo- 
 graphs, framed and unframed. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Handing her the photographs one by one.] There ! 
 look! isn't that fascinating? She was about seventeen 
 then — she wasn't out. Look at it ! 
 
 Letty. 
 Ah, yes. 
 
 ^^ 
 
196 LETTY 
 
 Nevill. 
 I wonder whether he'll behave well to her — Drake, I 
 mean. \Giving her another picture \ Somewhat later. 
 You can judge how attractive she must have been. 
 Letty, Drake'll deal honorably by her — he'll make her 
 his wife directly she's free, eh? \R2uming his hand 
 through her hair. \ Ho ! how should you know, my dear? 
 I'll horsewhip him if he doesn't. You mark me, I'll 
 slash him across the face if he doesn't. Ah, there! 
 there's my favorite — \_showing her a small portrait in a 
 frame'\ the year she was married ! 
 
 Letty. 
 Beautiful — beautiful 
 
 Nevill. 
 I ask you, isn't that the face of an innocent girl ? 
 
 Letty. 
 Yes, yes. 
 
 Nevill. 
 She's not to blame for this ; Crosbie's to blame. 
 That's the face of a pure woman, isn't it ? Isn't it ? 
 
 Letty. 
 [Without premeditation, looking into the portrait m- 
 iently.\ I believe I should have recognized her as your 
 sister anywhere. 
 
 Nevill. 
 What — you would ! 
 
 Letty. 
 [Covering the lower part of the picture with her hand."] 
 They're your eyes, aren't they ? 
 
LETTV 197 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Taking the portrait from her and viewing it with fresh 
 inierest.'\ Wliy, yes, you're right — brother and s^ister ! 
 yFityingly.'\ Poor, frail little varmint ! Well, there's less 
 uuin a couple of years between us, and she has kept out 
 of the ditch till to-day ; that's beating the Letclnnere 
 
 record hollow. Oh ! \_Flinging the photographs on 
 
 to the settee upon the ieft.^ Mix ine another whisky-and- 
 soda, Letty. 
 
 [He sits 7(po7i the settee on the right, and she goes 
 to the table on the left and tremblingly prepares 
 his drink. ^ 
 
 Nevill. 
 Ha, ha, ha ! Quite correct, Mr. Crosbie — we're all of 
 a pattern ! Quite correct, you stern censor of morals — 
 rotten to the core ! Oh, my lord ! I remember us as 
 children in the schoolroom at Withdene — Gerald, Hugh, 
 Gladys, Florence! We seemed a nice, curly-headed 
 crew ! Oh, my lord ! 
 
 \She comes to him, eyeing him half curiously , half- 
 featfiilly, and p7'esents him with his glass. 
 
 Nevill 
 
 Thanks 
 
 \He takes the tumbler fvm her, not observing her, 
 and with his disengaged ha?td 7notions to draiv 
 her down to his side. She shrinks away from 
 his reach- and seats herself in the chair in 
 •which she has previously been sittifig by ihe 
 small table. 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 Thanks. [After a gulp at his drink — absorbed in his 
 refections.^ Yes — yes, and so it will be with that small 
 boy of mine — the young gentleman who, if he lives, will 
 some day be the head of my distinguished family. He'll 
 begin life full of the most excellent resolves ; despising 
 
198 LETTY 
 
 his forbears — his mamma will teach him t/iaf ; deter- 
 mined to carry it through in fine, reputable style. And 
 Inen, of a sudden, the blood in him will assert itself and 
 lie too will be a genuine Letchmere — a genuine, out-and- 
 . lit Letchmere ! Pliew ! Still, would to God there had 
 ijcLii one of us, if it had been only a woman, whom they 
 couldn't have cast in the boy's teeth ! But no, even 
 Tiny has failed us. \Rousing himself— to Letty.] She 
 was here in the afternoon, Letty, shortly before you 
 came. 
 
 Letty. 
 \^Dully.'\ She? 
 
 Nevill. 
 My sister, Florence — here, in this room. 
 
 Letty. 
 Was she ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 Discussing with me our family imperfections! Ha; 
 yes! it's not many hours ago that I solemnly declared 
 my conviction — declared it honestly ! — that it was re- 
 served for her to fly higher than the rest of us ! Ho, 
 ho! What was it I said to her? S^Gathering, wiih an 
 effort, the threads of his conversation with Florence of 
 the First Act.'] " We're rotten bad, every one of us — 
 men and women." ''Every one of us?" she said — I 
 can hear her saying it; "isn't that a bit premature ? " 
 Premature! ha, ha! "I beg your pardon," I said; 
 "not yon. Tiny — you'll make a better show than the 
 others. [His voice softening.] The family record is 
 monotonous reading, old girl ; you'll be the first to vary 
 it for heaven knows how many generations ! \Gazi7ig 
 before him wistfully.] And w ho can tell ! Old Nick 
 oiice kicked on the shins — once — oh, Tiny, Tiny, just 
 once ! ' ' 
 
LETTY 199 
 
 [She faces him abruptly and they stare at each 
 other for some seconds, inicrprciinij^ each other s 
 thoughts. 'J hen she gets to her feet and goes 
 swiftly to the chair on the left. There she^sits, 
 and in a hurried, resolute mamter, rids herself 
 of the slippers she is wearing and pulls on her 
 shoes. Laying his glass aside, he rises and 
 walks across to her. 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 What are you doing ? [She rises. ^ What are you 
 doing? 
 
 Letty. 
 
 \Under her breath.^ Novv's the time — now. If you 
 
 saved me ! Ah, do ! 
 
 [She hastens to the table on the right, collects her 
 hair-pins, and screws up her hair. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Don't be absurd, Letty. Letty, don't be absurd. 
 You've misunderstood me. I was speaking of what 
 another might be capable of. It would be rather late in 
 the day for me to play the saint ! No, no ; leave your 
 hat alone. Don't be absurd. Sit down. 
 
 [Not heeding him, she puts on her hat attd fetches 
 her cape from the back of the room. Slipping 
 the cape over her shoulders, she searches for her 
 gloves. She discovers them upon the settee on 
 the right, picks them up, and turns towards the 
 door — to find Nevill standing before it. She 
 halts. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [After a pause.] You are making yourself ridiculous. 
 Take those things off again. Sit down. 
 
 Letty. 
 [/;/ a murmur. \ Mr. Letchmere . . . Now's your 
 
200 LETTY 
 
 time ... be good to me . . . save a woman 
 . . . once . . , / 
 
 [ There is a further si/ence ; then he advances to her 
 slowly. Quakingly she holds her groiaid. 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 [Withdrawing his eyes from her.] Well — you may go 
 back to your lodgings. 
 
 Letty. 
 Ah ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 [Moving.'] I — I'll change my coat and see you to your 
 door. 
 
 Letty. 
 [Clutchiyig his sleeve.] No, no ; don't stir. Stay where 
 
 you are ; don't come with me. Don't let us — risk 
 
 [He allows her to pass him. She glances at him 
 over her shoulder, and then a mutual feeling 
 draws them together ajuithey embrace. Finally, 
 he j-eleases her and she goes quietly away. He 
 follows her into the corridor and looks after her. 
 Presently the outer door slams and he returns, 
 and, first carefully closing the door of the 7Vom, 
 seats hinnelf upon the settee on the left, his head 
 bowed in thought. 
 
 END OF THE FOURTH ACT. 
 
THE EPILOGUE 
 
 The sce7ie represents a waiting-room in the establisJwient 
 of a thriving photographer. In the wall at the back, 
 on the left, is a door — the upper part of which is 
 glazed with ornamental glass — openiftg into the room 
 from a landing. On the right, also in the back wall, 
 are folding-doors adtnifting to a further apartment. 
 In the wall on the right-hand side is a fireplace — where 
 a bright fire is burning — and against the opposite wall, 
 facing the fireplace, aie a console-tc^ble and mirror. 
 
 The decorations and furniture have the appearance of 
 newness. On the left, near the spectator, is a table lit- 
 tered with unmounted photogi^aphs and the materialsfor 
 " touching'' them. A chair staiids before the table. 
 Further aiuay is an easel bearing a large portrait, 
 aftd close to the single door there is a combined um- 
 brella- and- hat stand. Against the back wall, between 
 the doors, is a cabinet ; and on the right there is a 
 large circular table upon which lie a number of albums. 
 Comfortable chairs ate placed round and about this 
 table; an arnic hair faces the fire ; and other chairs 
 occupy the spaces on the right and left of the mantel- 
 piece and console-table. The walls are ahnost entirely 
 covered with photographs in frames ; and there a7-e 
 framed portraits upon the maiitelpiece, the cabifiet and 
 the console-table. 
 It is daylight. 
 
 [Marion, her hands encased in mittens, is seated at 
 the table on the left " touching " some photo- 
 graphs, while Ordish is engaged in arranging 
 the contents of a drawer in the cabinet at the 
 
202 LETTY 
 
 back. His appearance has changed for the bet- 
 ter, his clothes being ijt excellent condition, and 
 his hair and beard jieatly trimmed. 1 here is 
 a shrill whistle from a speaking-tube beside the 
 fireplace, Ordish whistles hi response, and 
 puts his ear to the tube. 
 
 Ordish. 
 \To Marion.] Miss Saint Maur. 
 
 Marion. 
 Her basket can be carried up-stairs. Mr. Perry will 
 have arrived before she has changed her gown. 
 
 Ordish. 
 [Speaking into the tube.'\ Is that you. Miss Vickary? 
 \_Having obtained a reply.^ Burton has gone upon an 
 errand, has he? \_After listening again.] Then take Sim- 
 mons q^ the windows. Tell him he must lend a hand 
 with the lady's dress-basket. Number Three room. 
 
 [The door on the left ope7is and Hilda enters, 
 richly atti^'ed iti winter garments, followed by a 
 maid carrying a jewel-bag. 
 
 Hilda. 
 
 [Shaking hands with Marion, who rises. ] How are you 
 to-day, M'iss Allardyce? [7'o Ordish.] Good-morning, 
 Mr. Ordish. 
 
 Ordish. 
 Good-morning, Miss Saint Maur. 
 
 Hilda. 
 [To her maid, sternly.'] Now, you get 'em to show you 
 the way to the dressing-room 
 
 Ordish. 
 [Moving to the folding-doors.] Follow me, please. 
 
LETTY 203 
 
 Hilda. 
 
 [ Unlocking' the Jewel-bag with a key attached to a brace- 
 let she is wearing.] After you've unpacked the trunk, you 
 can lay my jewellery out upon the table. And don't go 
 dropping any more diamond stars on the floor, if you can 
 possibly help it. 
 
 [The tnaid flounces away and disappears , with 
 Ordish, through t lie foldi7ig- doors. 
 
 Hilda. 
 \To Marion.] Cheeky little baggage ! I'm astonished 
 she didn't give me one of her back answers. 
 
 Marion. 
 [Icily.] Does she do so, as a rule.-* 
 
 Hilda. 
 Does she ! She put out her tongue at me last night ; 
 I saw the reflection in the looking-glass. Ladies* lives 
 are rendered perfectly unendurable by their maids. 
 That trollop's my third in six weeks. 
 
 Marion. 
 Really? 
 
 Hilda. 
 What a buck Jimmy Ordish is growing ! You might 
 do worse, Polly ; you and he ought to come to an agree- 
 ment. 
 
 Marion. 
 Hilda. 
 
 We have. 
 
 No ! have you ? 
 
 Marion. 
 
 [Sitting and resuming her work.] Yes — to mind our 
 own concerns. 
 
204 LETTY 
 
 Hilda, 
 Oh, don't be so tart — no affront intended. [Sea/m^ 
 henelf at the round table.] Ouf! You hardly expected 
 to see me again as soon as this, 1 suppose ? 
 
 Marion. 
 Most of Mr. Perry's sitters return, I am glad to say. 
 
 Hilda. 
 There's been such a rush on my pictures ever since we 
 produced our new show. That Ompeer gown of mine 
 seems to have knocked 'em completely. And Perry was 
 pretty successful with me when 1 hrst patronized him. 
 
 Marion. 
 Most successful. 
 
 Hilda. 
 [Consulting a Jewelled watc/i.] He needn't hav«* 
 dragged me here, though, at this unearthly hour if he 
 couldn't attend to me on the tick. My appointments 
 eleven. 
 
 Marion. 
 Something has detained him, evidently — a fog on the 
 line, may be. 
 
 Hilda. 
 On the line ? 
 
 Marion. 
 They don't live here any longer ; we require all our 
 available space for business purposes. They've bought 
 a little villa at Neasden. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Neasden ! What a fate ! However, if she's satis- 
 fied ! It was you who used to cram the suburbs 
 
 down her throat in the old days, wasn't it? 
 
LETTY 205 
 
 Marion. 
 It was. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Well, the best end of Oxford Street is good enough for 
 me, notwithstanding the rents. Two-hundred-and-fifty 
 a year for three rooms you couldn't swing a cat in ! 
 
 Marion. 
 Dreadful! 
 
 Hilda. 
 And a quarter always paid in advance. And would 
 vou credit it— I'm not allowed to pick out the simplest 
 tune on the piano after twelve-thirty A. M. ! And why ? 
 Because I happen to be an actress ! 
 
 Marion. 
 One doesn't want to play the piano after that hour, 
 luckily. 
 
 Hilda. 
 There's no knowing ; you may, if you're feeling 
 down in the mouth. \Sentime7itally .'] Ah, my dear, I 
 often dream I'm back at Ma Watkins's, and catch myself 
 wishing it was reality. 
 
 Marion. 
 [ Turning to her^ You do ? 
 
 Hilda. 
 The greatest triumphs have their — what-d'ye-call- 
 'ems? — their penalties, I can assure you; and even I 
 suffer from the blues now and again. 
 
 Marion. 
 \^EarnestIy\ Hilda, why not— why not— give it up? 
 
206 LETTY 
 
 Hilda. 
 Retire from the stage ! 
 
 Marion. 
 {D}yly.'\ Yes — retire from the stage. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Out of the question, my dear! If you're born with 
 talent, you've got to go wliere talent leads you. Thank 
 your stars you're not gifted. 
 
 Marion. 
 I am profoundly thankful. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Ignorant persons imagine that a theatrical career is an 
 easy, dolly -far-nieniy sort of a life. Far from it, let 'em 
 take it from me ! Turning out in all weathers, with your 
 coachman in liquor occasionally ! And how many times 
 d'ye think I change my dress in the course of an even- 
 ing, to make no mention of mat'neys ? Guess ! 
 
 Marion. 
 I can't. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Eight — and a hundred-and-seventy-three stairs to 
 mount to do it. 
 
 Marion. 
 The exercise should keep you in health. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Health ! You can't tax brain and muscle to that ex- 
 tent ; it mml end in a break-down, sooner or later. 
 
 Marion. 
 Brain ? 
 
LETTY 207 
 
 Hilda. 
 Yes, brain [Loflzly.] There's a rumor flying about 
 
 Easter'' '^ "' ^"^ ^^ ^'''^'' ^""""^ '^"''''^ ^° P^""'' ^^ 
 
 [Perry— ;/^zf/ so7newhat portly and with a florid 
 
 complexion— bustles in at the door on the left. 
 
 He is wearing a cape, woollen gloves, and a 
 
 comforter. 
 
 Perry. 
 yRentoving an artistic hat as he enters.] Ah, my dear 
 Miss Saint Maur! a hundred thousand pardons! [Shah- 
 ing hands with Hilda.] Inexpressibly sorry if I have 
 kept you waiting. Good-morning, Miss Allardyce. [Zb 
 Hilda. J The fact is, we missed our usual train. A tri- 
 fling matter of a domestic nature— but iMrs. Perry will 
 explain 
 
 [Letty, also in wintry out-of-door attire, etiters 
 breathlessly—rosy-cheeked, buxom, a picture of 
 healthy yowig-zvomanhood. She advances to 
 Hilda and shakes hands with her, though with 
 some constr-aint. 
 
 Letty. 
 How are you, Hilda .> You'll forgive Mr. Perry for 
 being late, I hope. It's my fault entirely. 
 
 Perry. 
 
 [ Taking off his over-things and laying them on a chair.'X 
 Scarcely, my darling. ^ 
 
 Letty. 
 [A'm/^^ Marion affectionately.] Good-morning. 
 
 Marion. 
 Nothing amiss at home ? 
 
 Letty. 
 [Giving her hat, coat, a7id gloves to Marion.] Baby 
 
208 LEI TV 
 
 was inclined to be rather fretful — the least suspicion of a 
 
 cold 
 
 [Ordish reappears, entering at the folding-doors. 
 
 Perry. 
 \To Ordish.] Good-morning to you, Mr. Ordish. 
 
 Letty. 
 Morning, Jimmy. 
 
 Perry. 
 \To Ordish.] Is my capable lieutenant, Mr. Fitz- 
 gerald, in the studio ? 
 
 Ordish. 
 He is. 
 
 Perry. 
 \Coming to Hilda, who rises.'\ A superb toilette, if I 
 may venture upon a criticism ! Why should not our initial 
 essay be to secure a representation of Miss Saint Maur 
 as she appears in private life ? 
 
 Ordish. 
 An excellent notion, sir 1 
 
 Hilda. 
 I am agreeable. 
 
 Perry. 
 Ha ! I anticipate striking results. 
 
 \He turns away and blows into the speaking-tube. 
 Hilda advances to Letty. 
 
 Hilda. 
 \To Letty.] Shall I find you here v^^hen I come down ? 
 If so, we could have a jaw. 
 
LETTY 209 
 
 Letty. 
 [Glancing at the table on the left, wieasi'ly.] I— I have 
 
 lo be busy. 
 
 Hilda. 
 Pity. You are looking blooming, I must admit. Got 
 a little shanty at Harrow, she tells me. 
 
 Letty. 
 Neasden. 
 
 Hilda. 
 I might take a drive in your direction one Sunday and 
 see the child. What's its name ? 
 
 Letty. 
 [Avoiding her eye. \ Enid . 
 
 Marion. 
 I am her god-mother. 
 
 Hilda. 
 [Gathering her furs round her ?^ I'm not over-fond of 
 cootsey-cootseying, but I shall enjoy a cackle. [Nod- 
 ding.\ So-long. Ta, ta ! 
 
 [She joins Ordish and they pass out together 
 through the folding-doors. 
 
 Perry. 
 
 [Speaking into the tube.] Kindly inform me, Miss 
 Vickary, what appointments have been made for me be- 
 fore luncheon. 
 
 Letty. 
 f 7o Marion— sitti7tg at the table on the left and digging 
 her fingers into her hair.] Oh, I'm a brute 1 a brute 1 
 
210 LETTY 
 
 Marion. 
 I 7o Letty.] No, you're not ; you didn't actually for- 
 bid the woman to visit you. 
 
 [ 77iey continue talking in undertones. 
 
 Perry. 
 {^Speaking into the titbe.\ Mrs. Craik — eleven-thirty. 
 Colonel Hoiroyd — twelve. Miss Mainwaring — half-past. 
 Am I accurate ? \Listening.\ Oh, Drake — not Craik. 
 \_Speaking.'\ Mrs. Drake — not Craik ; I comprehend. 
 If Mrs. Drake is punctual, I can dispose of that lady 
 while Miss Saint Maur is assuming her professional 
 costume. \_Listening.~\ Yes. \_Speaking?^ I am obliged. 
 \As he leaves the speaking-tube, Vih.^xo'ii goes out 
 at thcfflldi7ig-doo?-s canying'LKTTYS hat, coat, 
 and gloves. Letty is now applying herself 
 methodically to the touching of the photographs. 
 Perry takes up his hat, cape, etc., and comes 
 to her. 
 
 Perry. 
 Lunch at one, darling ? 
 
 Letty. 
 Yes, Dick. 
 
 Perry. 
 
 Till then 
 
 \She throws her head back and he kisses her. 
 Again there is a, whistle froni the speaking- 
 tube. He hurries to the tube and blows in 
 reply. 
 
 Perry. 
 [Alternately listening and speaking into the tube.'] Oh ! 
 ah! hey? No, no, certainly not; my personal services 
 will be at lier disposal in two minutes. 
 
 [He disappears rapidly through the folding-doors. 
 
LETTY 211 
 
 Letty hums an air cheerfully as ske proceeds 
 with her task. Presently a knock is heard at 
 the door on the left. 
 
 Letty. 
 Ves ? Come in. 
 
 Ylhe door is opened by Florence — a beautifully- 
 dressed, faded ivonuin with some gray in her 
 hair and the lines of discontent about her mouth. 
 
 Florence. 
 ^Entering — listlessly. \ They send me up to the first- 
 floor. Is this the room ? 
 
 Letty. 
 \Rising.\ You have an appointment, I beUeve, 
 madam ? 
 
 Florence. 
 Half-past-eleven. 
 
 Letty. 
 \Indicatingaseatatthetable.\ Pray take a seat. Mr. 
 Perry will be at liberty shortly. [Florence sits ajid lifts 
 her veil as Letty opens one of the albums a7id lays it be- 
 fore her.^ Perhaps it would interest you to glance at 
 these while you are waiting. \Mending the pre.] What 
 exceedingly severe weather we are having, madam! 
 
 Fi-orence. 
 Very. [Letty returns to the door to close it.] You need 
 not shut the door. My brotlier is with me. He likes to 
 take his own time in mounting stairs, 
 
 [Letty stands holding the handle of the door, and 
 by and by Nevill appears walking slowly and 
 feebly. His shoulders ai'e bent, his cheeks thin 
 and drawn, and altogether he has the air of an 
 invalid. 
 
212 LETTY 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 [72? Letty, courteously.} Ah, don't trouble 
 
 [//^ has passed her before the light of recognition 
 flashes into his face. Then he turtis and they 
 gaze at each other for a momejit in silettce. 
 Finally he crosses to the fireplace atid stretches 
 out his hands to the fire. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Ah— h— h ! 
 
 Florence. 
 \Raising her eyes from the albu?n, reprovingly.} Why 
 didn't you remain in the carriage, Nevill.? 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Gaily, but in a weak voice.'] Grant me this small in- 
 dulgence. Let me remind myself that I once won my 
 College mile. \Ensconcing himself in the armchair and 
 drawing it close to the fire.] A glorious blaze ! 
 
 [Letty has resumed her seat at the table on the 
 left. Marion re-enters at the folding-doors, 
 and, barely glanciiig at the other occupants of 
 the room, comes to her. 
 
 Marion. 
 [ To Letty, pointing to the litter on the table— in an un- 
 dertone.] Shall I push on with some of this stuff down- 
 stairs ? 
 
 Eh? 
 
 Letty, 
 Marion. 
 
 What's wrong? 
 
 Letty. 
 Wrong ? 
 
LETTY 213 
 
 Marion. 
 Aren't you up to much to-day? 
 
 Letty. 
 Yes. What were you asking? 
 
 Marion. 
 Shall I help you by marching off with a heap of these ? 
 
 Letty. 
 Will you? {^Giving her a roll of phuiographs.\ Make 
 a mem, Polly, that the proofs of Mrs, Anstruther's min- 
 iature have to catch the country post to-night without 
 fail. 
 
 Marion. 
 Right, dear. 
 
 \As Marion goes out at the door on the left, 
 Ordish presents himself at the folding-doors. 
 
 Ordish. 
 
 \Standi7ig within the adjoijiing room— to Florence.] 
 Mrs. Drake? 
 
 Florence. 
 Yes? 
 
 Ordish. 
 Will you come this way ? 
 
 Florence. 
 
 \ Rising— to Nevill.] At any rate, there's no necessity 
 for you to climb higher. [Coaxingly.] I shouldn't, were 
 I you. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [From the depths of the chair.] I won't, if you'll dis- 
 oense with my attendance. [Waving a thin, white 
 
214 LETTY 
 
 hiuid.\ I invoke blessings on the operation ! Look your 
 sweetest. 
 
 Florence. 
 \Biiterly.'\ Ha! 
 
 \She follows Ordish, and the folding-doors are 
 closed. After a brief pause , Nevill — zvho has 
 been tinconscioiis if the coming and goifig of 
 Marion aiid Ordish — takes his eyes from the 
 fire and glajtces round the room. Seeitig that 
 he is alone with Letty, he rises and approaches 
 her. She also rises, hearing his footsteps, and 
 they confront one another. 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Gently?^ Are you employed here ? 
 
 Letty. 
 I — I am Mrs. Perry. 
 
 The wife 
 Yes. 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 Letty. 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 You are married to the proprietor of this establish- 
 ment ? 
 
 Letty. 
 Yes. 
 
 Nevill. 
 I congratulate you, sincerely. On all sides I hear Mr. 
 Perry's work spoken of in the warmest terms. 
 
 Letty. 
 He is becoming very widely known. He is not only 
 clever, but painstaking. You — you remember him ? 
 
LETTY 215 
 
 Nevill. 
 I ? I fear — no 
 
 Letty. 
 \_A'wk2vardly.'] He was at the Cafe Regence one 
 nig lit — when 
 
 Nevill. 
 Ah ? \_Racking his brains.^ A fair young gentleman ! 
 
 Letty. 
 No, no ; you are thinking of Mr. Neale. Charley 
 Neale went out to South Africa ; he's— poor fellow 
 
 Nevill. 
 Of course ! Perry ! Mr. Perry ! And I had helped 
 him earlier in the day with his camera ! 
 
 Letty. 
 Yes, yes. 
 
 Nevill. 
 \With a gesture. \ Rather — er — of medium height ? 
 
 Letty. 
 That is he. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Good gracious ! I remember him clearly. Two years 
 ago, quite ! 
 
 Letty. 
 Two years and a half. \ Busying herself with the litter 
 on hertable.\ It was in the middle of sunniier. 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 Why, yes — June [//<? walks away to the table on the 
 
 right. There is a pause. \ Let me see, you were in the 
 stock-broking world in those days? 
 
216 LETTY 
 
 Letty. 
 If you can call it stock-broking. I — I was a clerk at 
 Uugdale's. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Dugdale's — yes, yes, yes. I presume you chucked 
 Mr. Mandeville — \pnlling himself up\ er — you left Dug- 
 dale's ? 
 
 Letty. 
 I never went back there after I — after I — ceased know- 
 ing you, I had an illness, for one reason. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Did you? I — I'm grieved. You were delicate, I 
 recollect. 
 
 Letty. 
 Not over strong. 
 
 Nevill. 
 But are thoroughly robust now ? 
 
 Letty. 
 \Half-turning to him, smilingly. '\ Isn't it plain that I 
 am? 
 
 Nevill. 
 It is, indeed. And having recovered from your ill- 
 ness ? 
 
 Letty. 
 Mr. Perry M'as setting-up business here in Baker Street 
 — his uncle was backing him ; that enabled him to strike 
 out — and he required some young ladies — some girls of 
 passable appearance 
 
 Nevill. 
 I understand. And — and ultimately ? 
 
LETTY 217 
 
 Letty. 
 Yes. 
 
 Nevill. 
 You — you and he ? 
 
 Letty. 
 [In a low voice. '\ When I had been with him about 
 six months. 
 
 Nevill. 
 And you are happy ? The question is superfluous. 
 
 Letty. 
 Perfectly happy. He is such a good httle man— that 
 is, such a good man. 
 
 Nevill. 
 My impression of him is distinctly pleasant. 
 
 Letty. 
 [With fee ling.'] He's funny ; but, oh, so kind ! We — 
 we live at Neasden. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [ Vaguely. ] Neasden ? 
 
 Letty. 
 [Nodding.'] The Laurels, our house is called. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Really ? 
 
 Letty. 
 It had no name when we purchased it ; it was merely 
 Number Fourteen. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Slightly puzzled by her manner.] Fourteen ? 
 
218 LETTY 
 
 Letty. 
 [ With drooping iids.'\ It was my husband's idea to call 
 it The Laurels ; and his idea also — also 
 
 Nevill. 
 Also ? 
 
 Letty. 
 That our daughter should be christened Enid. 
 
 Nevill. 
 A daughter ? 
 
 Letty. 
 Yes. 
 
 Nevill. 
 You have a daughter 1 
 
 Letty. 
 Just under a year old. A dear little thing. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [With a polite inclination of the head.] Resembling 
 her 
 
 Letty. 
 [^Simply.] Her papa, 
 
 Nevill. 
 \^Consoling-Iy.'\ Ah, well, she'U grow. 
 
 I They laugh together, her eyes meeting his for the 
 first time. Suddenly she checks herself and is 
 silent. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Eh? 
 
 Letty. 
 I run on, talking of myself. Will you excuse me ? 
 
LETTY 219 
 
 Nevill. 
 Certainly. 
 
 Letty. 
 I — I am afraid you have been an invalid more recently 
 than I. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Oh, I — I am as fit as a fiddle. 
 
 Letty. 
 Hush! no, no. What's the matter — please "i 
 
 Nevill. 
 \_lVith a smiVe.] Homesickness — if you will wring it 
 from me. 
 
 Letty. 
 Homesickness ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 [Gn'maczn^.] They are sending me away, Mrs. 
 Perry. 
 
 Letty. 
 Why ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 Because I caught a trumpery cold at Harrogate in 
 August. Upon my word, they've no other justification. 
 Yes, they are packing me off to a place in Germany— a 
 beastly place in Germany 
 
 Letty. 
 In Germany ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 Where T am to be compelled to dwell almost entirely 
 in the open air 
 
220 LETTY 
 
 Letty. 
 
 \^Under her breath. \ Oh ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 Where I shall receive innumerable suspiciously cheery 
 letters from the men at my club, planning gaieties for my 
 return ; where I shall scribble equally light-hearted 
 epistles in reply, dealing humorously with the ghastly 
 comedy of my surroundings ! 
 
 Letty. 
 \Moiio7iing him to sit, tremblingly.'\ Don't stand ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 However, out of evil ! Do I not owe this en- 
 counter to my approaching banishment? By bringing 
 my sister here this morning, I provide myself not only 
 with what will doubtless prove a charming specimen of 
 Mr. Perry's talent — I carry with me to Nordrach the assur- 
 ance of the welfare of a young lady in whom I shall re- 
 main interested as long as the affairs of this world interest 
 me at all. 
 
 \He seats himself in a chair at the table on the 
 right. She produces her handkerchief and, with- 
 out attempt at concealmetit, wipes away her 
 tears. 
 
 Letty. 
 When — when do you leave ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Brightly?^ I am borne hence this day week by Mrs. 
 Drake — in a bundle. 
 
 Letty. 
 Mrs. Drake — Mrs. Drake is your sister Florence ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 Yes. 
 
LETTV 221 
 
 Letty. 
 I heard my husband mention a Mrs. Drake as being 
 among his morning's sitters, but it didn't strilvc me to 
 connect her with you. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Naturally. 
 
 Letty. 
 
 He did marry her, then ? I beg your pardon— I 
 
 mean, she married again ? 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Frow7tm^.] In due course. 
 
 Letty. 
 Is s/ie happy, at last ? Ah, I hope so. 
 
 Nevill. 
 My dear Mrs. Perry, is ajiybody happy — save yourself? 
 Poor Tiny ! a more unsatisfactory beggar than Mr. Cop- 
 pinger Drake doesn't walk the earth. Whew ! I am 
 
 denied the luxury of getting into a rage 
 
 YHe rises and crosses to the left, -where he surveys 
 the litter upon the fable scowlitigly. As he 
 jnoves, she goes to the folding-doors, opens them 
 an inch or two, and listens. 
 
 Letty. 
 
 [After a pause.] Mr. Letchmere. [He turns to her.] 
 One more question. 
 
 No, no — a dozen. 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 Letty. 
 Your little son — your boy ? Is he well ? 
 
222 LETTY 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Eagerly.] Ha ! that he is. By Jove, Mrs. Perry, that 
 fellow is a strapping chap ! 
 
 Letty. 
 Ah? 
 
 Nevill. 
 He was at my rooms yesterday. They've brought him 
 to me regularly of late. He turns up again on Thursday 
 — to bid me good-bye. He's full of excellent promise, 
 they tell me. [Dropping his voice.] I wonder! 
 
 Letty. 
 Don't! 
 
 Nevill. 
 Don't ? 
 
 Letty. 
 Don't wonder ; be sure. 
 
 Nevill. 
 [Lig/if/y.] Ha, ha ! 
 
 Letty. 
 Oh, be sure, be sure ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 \Thoiigh1fiilIy ^ We shall see— others will see. 
 
 [She listens again at the folding- doors, then closes 
 them and retur?is to him. 
 
 Letty. 
 \Her hands clasped tightly.] Your sister will be down 
 soon. Mr. Letchmere ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 Yes? 
 
LETTY 223 
 
 Letty, 
 You are glad, you say, to carry away with you the 
 knowledge of my welfare ? ^ J y 
 
 Nevill. 
 Glad — comforted. 
 
 Letty. 
 I want to give you something else to take with you— a 
 keepsake — a memento 
 
 Nevill. 
 A memento? 
 
 Letty. 
 A mere word for you to bear in mind constantly. I 
 want you to appreciate thoroughly one fact— that I 
 reahze to whom I owe my welfare. It is scarcely prob- 
 able that you and I will meet often in the future ; it is 
 possible — we may — never 
 
 (2uite possible. 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 Letty. 
 I should hke you to carry with you. then, as almost 
 the last word you ever heard me utter— this word 
 
 Nevill. 
 What word, my dear ? 
 
 Letty. 
 l^hanks. I was very foolish when— when you knew 
 me. worse than foolish ; and now I find myself, as it 
 were, m harbor— through no desert of my own. I have 
 marned m my proper rank, an honest man who is de- 
 voted to me ; we have a child ; we nre tolerablv pros- 
 perous. We shall hve. God willing, the humdrum lives 
 
224 LETTY 
 
 of " respectable people"; and if old age is granted 
 to us, we shall nod over our winter fire, and doze in our 
 garden in summer, as meek and humble a white-haired 
 couple as could be met with out of an almshouse. As 
 true as I stand here, instead of scoffing at these things as 
 I would have scoffed at them two-years-and-a-half ago, 
 I believe in them as being the richest gifts this world can 
 bestow. ^Drawing herself up to her full height and offer- 
 ing him her hand.\ Thani<.s. 
 
 Nevill. 
 I shall cdixry your word with me, Mrs. Perry ; I cherish 
 the possession of it. \Releasing her ha?id?^ Thanks. The 
 man would be fortunate who, upon his death-bed, could 
 recall having earned that word, spoken with the signifi- 
 cance you attach to it, not once but a score of times. 
 
 Letty. 
 Perhaps. But — once will suffice. 
 
 Nevill. 
 Ha ! I wonder ! 
 
 Letty. 
 Don't — be sure. Be sure ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 I will try to be, my dear. 
 
 \Hearing the sound of approaching footsteps, she 
 moves to the fireplace as Florence ^/z^r/OKDisH 
 enter at the folding-doors. Ordish goes to the 
 door on the left and, opening the door, waits 
 there for Florence to precede him. 
 
 Florence. 
 [77? Nevill.] Have I taxed your patience? 
 
 Nevill. 
 Not in the least. 
 
LETTY 225 
 
 Florence. 
 \_To Letty.J You have my address? 
 
 Letty. 
 [^Advancing to her.^ Yes, madam. 
 
 Florence. 
 Mr. Perr^ pledges himself to be quick. 
 
 Letty. 
 You may rely upon us, madam. 
 
 Florence. 
 Good-morning. 
 
 Letty. 
 Good-morning, madam. 
 
 [Florence departs, Okt>isu following her. 
 
 Nevill. 
 
 \To hwYTY , poin/mg to Ordish.] Why, /^^ is an old 
 acquaintance of mine too ! 
 
 Letty. 
 \^At the door.] Yes— Jimmy Ordish. And Marion is 
 down-stairs, in the shop. Marion ! 
 
 Nevill. 
 \_Piiusing in the doorivay mid looking at her smilingly.'] 
 You forget no one. 
 
 Letty. 
 \^Retnrning his gaze steadily.] No — I forget no one. 
 
 \He passes out. She closes the door and stajtds 
 leaniiig against it, staring into space. 
 
 THE end. 
 
)EC 5 1904 
 
Arthur W, Pinero 
 
 LETTY 
 
 k.N ORIGINAL DRAMA IN FOUR ACTS 
 AND AN EPILOGUE. 
 
 VAum H. Baker 6 Co.. Boston 
 

 w 
 
 The Plays of Henrik Ibsen. 
 
 E^&ted, with CrHieal and Bbgraphlcal Intcodtictiocv 
 f>7 EDMUND GOSSE 
 
 This series is offered to meet a growing demand for the plays of this well- 
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