Class ^«^ 3^21 Boo1c.,i/4 4-6 g- Qm0WApZ CfiPXRIGHT DEPOSm A Successful Calamity By CLARE KUMMER SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 W«t 3dtli Sl^ New York The Touch-Down A eomctiy in four acts, by Marion Short. 8 males, 6 females, but ft&y nunber of characters can be iatrcxluced in the ensembles. Co»- ttimce modem. One interior scene throughout the pkijr. Time, 2H hours. This play, written for the use of clever amateurs, is the story of life in Siddell, a Pennsylvania co-educational college. It deals with the vicissitudes and final triumph of the Siddell Football EUeven, and the humorous and dramatic incidents conaected therewith. "The Touch-Down" has the true varsity atmosphere, college songs are sung, and the piece is lively and entertaining throughout. High schools will make no mistake in producing this play. We strongly recommend it a« a high-class and well-written comedy. Price, 30 Cents. Hurry^ Huity^ Hurry A comedy in three acts, by LeRoy Arnold. 5 males, 4 females. One interior scene. Costumes modern. Plays 2% hours. The story is based on the will of an eccentric aunt. It stipulates that her pretty niece must be affianced before she is twonty-one, and married to her fiance within a year, if she is to get her spinster relative's million. Father has nice notions of honor and fails to tell daughter about the will, so that she may make her choice untram- meled by any other consideration than that of true love. The action all takes place in the evening the midnight of which will see her reach twenty-one. Time is therefore short, and it is hurry, hurry, hurry, if she is to become engaged and thus save her father from impending bankruptcy. The situations are intrinsically funny and the dialogue is sprightly. The characters are natural and unaffected and the action moves with a snap sttch as should be expected from its title. Price, 30 Cents. The Varsity GDach A three-act plar of college life, by Marion Short, specially adapted to performance by amateurs or high school students. 5 males 6 females, but any number of boys and girls may be introduced in the action of the play. Two settings necessary, a college boy's room and the university campus. Time, about 2 hours. Like many another college boy, "Bob" Selby, an all-round popular college man, becomes possessed of the idea that athletic prowess is more to be desired than scholarship. He is surprised in the midst of a "^read" in his room in Regatta week by a visit from his aunt who ift putting him through college. Aunt Serena, "a lady of the old school and the dearest little woman in the whole world," has hastened to make this visit to her adored nephew under the mistaken impression that he is about to receive the Fellowes prize for scholarship. Her grief and chagrin when she learns that instead of the prize Robert kas received "a pink card," which is equivalent to suspension for poor scholarship, gives a touch of pathos to an otherwise jolly comedy of •oUcsre life. How the repentant Robert more than redeems himself, carries off honors at the last, and in the end wins Ruth, the faithful little sweetheart of the "Prom" and the classroom, makes a story of 4rainattc interest and brings out very clearly certain phases of modern •oDege life. There are several opportunities for the introduction of •eficge sof^s and "stunts." Price, 30 Cents. (Th» Above Ar© Subject to Royalty When Produced) SAMUEL FRENCH, 3S-^ West 3Stli Str««t, Nsw Yec% City nA ExpRcit Ofscripttve CataloKUC Malted Frif « ftwpnst A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY A COMEDY IN TWO ACTS By CLARE KUMMER Copyright, 1922, by Samuel French All Rights Reserved CAUTION. — Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that "A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY," being fully pro- tected under the copyright laws of the United States, Great Britain and Canada, is subject to a royalty, and anyone presenting the play without the consent of the owners or their authorized agents will be liable to the penalties by law provided. Application for amateur act- ing rights must be made to Samuel French, 28-20 West 38th Street, New York City. New York SAMUEL FRENCH Publisher 38-30 West 38th Street London SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd. 26 Southampton Street STRAND Especial notice should be taken that the possession of this book without a valid contract for production first having been obtained from the publisher, confers no right or license to professionals or amateurs to produce the play publicly or in private for gain or charity. In its present form this play is dedicated to the reading public only, and no performance, representation, produc- tion, recitation, or public reading may be given except by special arrangement with Samuel French, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York. This play may be presented by amateurs upon payment of a royalty of Twenty-Five Dollars for each perform- ance, payable to Samuel French, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York, one week before the date when the play is given. Whenever the play is produced the following notice must appear on all programs, printing and advertising for the play: "Produced by special arrangement with Samuel French of New York." Attention is called to the penalty provided by law for any infringement of the author's rights, as follows : "Section 4966 : — Any person publicly performing or rep- resenting any dramatic or musical composition for which copyright has been obtained, without the consent of the proprietor of said dramatic or musical compositions, or his heirs and assigns, shall be liable for damages thereof, such damages, in all cases to be assessed at such sum, not less than one hundred dollars for the first and fifty dol- lars for every subsequent performance, as to the court shall appear to be just. If the unlawful performance and representation be wilful and for profit, such person or persons shall be guilty of a misdemeanor, and upon con- viction shall be imprisoned for a neriod not exceeding one year."~U. S. Revised Statutes: Title 60, Chap. 3. ©CLO 63030 DEC -8 ^22 The following is a copy of the playbill of the first per- formance of "A Successful Calamity," Monday evening, February 5th, 1917. BOOTH THEATRE, NEW YORK ARTHUR HOPKINS PRESENTS A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY A Comedy in Two Acts By CLARE KUMMER CAST OF CHARACTERS Henry Wilton William Gillette Emmie Estelle Winwood Marguerite. Ruth Findlay George Struthers Richard Sterling Clarence Rivers Roland Young Julie Partington Katherine Alexander Connors William Devereux PiETRO Rafaelo Manart Kippen Dr. Broodie Claus Bogel John Belden Charles Lane Albertine Mile. Marcelle i CAST OF CHARACTERS Henry Wilton. .A millionaire, who longs to spend a quiet evening at home. Emmie. ,His young second tvife. Marguerite .. Hw daughter. Eddie. .His son. George Struthers. .Marguerite's fiance. Clarence Rivers. .Another fiance. Julia Partington. .Eddie's fiancee. Connors. .The Butler. PiETRO Rafaelo. .An Italian portrait painter. Dr. 'Broodie . .The family physician. John Belden. .Wilton's partner. Albertine. .Mrs. Wilton's maid. ACT I Scene I : A living room in Mr. Wilton^s house. Shortly before dinner. Scene H : The same. Later in the evening. ACT n Scene I : The same. The next morning. Scene H : The same. Later in the morning. Time: The present. Place: New York City. ACT I Scene i : A living room in Mr. Wilton''s house on Park Avenue, New York. Large fireplace Right. Large window Left, with handsome curtains. Entrances from hall- way at hack Right and Left; arches hung with heavy curtains. Hallway at hack seen through arches. Back of Left arch in flat is seen the entrance to the Music Room; smaller arch with handsome curtains. Through Right Arch is seen stairway leading to upper story of house: practical. Console table between the arches with tray, decanter and sherry glasses, tele- phone, cigarettes, matches and ash tray. Seat surrounding front of fireplace. Small tabouret under seat. Large arm chair in front of fire- place. Round ottoman r.c. Large library table a little to left of centre. Long seat near table Left. Chair up left and chair down left centre. Smoking stand and cigars, etc., up Right near fireplace. Fire in fireplace. Salver with let- ters on center table. Tall screen up r.c. be- tween Right arch and Console table. Desk above fireplace r. At Rise : Connors enters l.u. and Albertine dis- covered at console table up c. Connors. What are you doing, Albertine? Albertine. Can't you see ? I am taking- a cigar- ette. I am dead if you want to know. I sit all the afternoon in that studio. I listen to M'sieu Rafaelo 7 8 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY recite to Madame the long poem while he paint, an' then they walk home together. So slow — I have to come on ahead. Connors. Cl.c.j You shouldn't take Mr. Ed- die's cigarettes, Albertine. Albertine. ("r.cJ What can I do? Madame does not smoke. It is very inconvenient for me. Connors. And you shouldn't come on ahead when you are accompanying Madame — it's not re- spectful. Albertine. Oh, no — I must do nothing. I am not a machine — anyway, I say, "Excuse me." Eet is spring. Connors — do you not know it? Do you expect me to walk along, slow like that — (Bus.) — alone? (Up to table up c.) Connors. Certainly. Albertine. If I am in Madame's place, I walk slow, too. (Albertine lights cigarette.) Connors. (Up to her) Don't light that cigar- ette in here, Albertine — what are you thinking of? Albertine. I am not thinking at all, Connors. You are so solemn. Close your eyes, Connors — perhaps you see the woods of England — the violets — a pair of blue eyes Connors. It's best not to have such thoughts when one is in service, Albertine — it's upsetting. Albertine. But that is very good, too. Eet is spring, Connors. (^Albertine exits r.v.) (Enter Marguerite l.u. She has been out and draws her gloves off as she crosses to Exit R.v.) Marguerite. I'll have my dinner in my room to-night, Connors, at seven. Connors As usual, Miss. Marguerite. Yes — as usual. And — er — I want the car at nine. Peters and the new limousine. A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 9 Connors. I think Mrs. Wilton is using it to- night, Miss. Marguerite. Oh, is she? Then Til have Jean and the Fiat. (Goes up to desk R.j Is father go- ing out to-night, Connors? Connors. (Sadly) I suppose so, Miss. Marguerite. Is he going out to dinner? Connors. Well, that's not settled, Miss. But he'll be going immediately after, if not before. Marguerite. Well — ^tell him I want to see him, Connors. I'm going to play bridge to-night and it's very important for me to see him before I go Connors. Yes, Miss — oh ! (He takes letter from silver tray on table.) Here's a letter for you. Miss. (Marguerite takes letter, looks at it and, coming hack, sits in chair in front of fireplace. Opens letter thoughtfully and reads. Connors exits R.u. Voices in hallway, Emmie and Racaelo, heard off. Rafaelo's voice reciting an Italian poem.) Rafaelo. (Off) Amore, amore che si m'hai ferita, Altro che amore non posso gridare; (Enter Emmie and Rafaelo l.u. They stroll in, he continuing to recite.) Amore, amore teco sono unita, Altro non posso che te abbracciare. Rafaelo. There's only a little more of it. It is so beautiful — I think he is one great poet. Emmie. Yes, but you see you know what it means, Pietro — that makes such a difference. I've lo A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY forgotten my Italian — I never knew very much. (To Margueritej Hello, dear. Marguerite. (Looking up, remains seated) Hello, Sweetie — Mr. Rafaelo. Rafaelo. How is Miss Marguerite? I just walk over from the studio with Mrs. Wilton. Emmie. You must go now, Pietro — at least I must — for I've to dress, you see, and have my hair done, and everything. Rafaelo. But I will come back. I take you to Mrs. Longley's to dinner — ^yes? Emmie. Only if Mr. Wilton doesn't go, Pietro. Rafaelo. He will not go — no, no — he will not go. Emmie. Oh, but perhaps he will, Pietro. '(Marguerite glances up, rattles her letter a little, as if disturbed.) Rafaelo. Well. I shall hope for the best ; I come back. (Up to exit l.) Good-bye. And to you, Miss Marguerite. (Exits l.u.) Emmie, (c.) Oh, what a long letter. Is it a wonderful love letter? (Going up R.u.j Marguerite. It's from George. Emmie. Oh! (Exit Emmie u.r. upstairs.) Emmie, (In hallway r.v.) Hello, Eddie. Eddie. (In hallway) Hello, Sweetie. (Enters R.u. He has a very slight edge on.) Hello. Father come in yet? Marguerite. No, not yet. (Eddie goes to cel- larette near console up c. and pours out a liberal drink. Marguerite turns and looks at him.) Eddie, I think it's perfectly disgusting to be in the con- dition that you're in, before dinner. Eddie. Do you? Well (Gulping down A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY ii drink.) I'm not going to eat any dinner, so before and after mean nothing to me. Marguerite. What is the matter with your face ? Eddie. Just what's always been the matter with it I guess — my features. Marguerite. But you're so ghastly white, Ed- die! Eddie. A little talk with you certainly does brace a fellow up. (Pouring out a second libation) For one thing Marguerite. (Shocked) Are you going to drink another ? Eddie. (Proving that he is) Julie's thrown me over this afternoon. (Down c.) Marguerite. Oh — that's it? Eddie. It's the last time I'll give her a chance to do it. It's gotten to be a habit with her now, and I'm tired of it. Marguerite. Well, I don't blame Julie — the way you've been going it with that Mrs. Laceby — ^an old married woman ! Eddie. She's not old. Marguerite. Why, she's thirty if she's a day! Everybody's been talking about it. Eddie. Why didn't you tell me? Marguerite. I haven't seen you for a week, Eddie. Eddie. That's the worst of living in the house with people — you never see them. You might have written to me. Marguerite, Don't be ridiculous — ^you must have known it. People always know things. Here — (Holding out letter) — Is George's ultimatum. I knew it was coming. Eddie. You're not going to let George go just for an ultimatum? Marguerite. He's coming to-night, for my final 12 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY word — and I shan't even be here. I've had an en- gagement to play bridge to-night, for two weeks. Eddie. Two weeks ! That's quite a long game. Why not take old George along? Marguerite. George doesn't play cards. He doesn't do anything — since he had the plans drawn for our house in the country. He just sits and goes from room to room on a blue print — and expects me to. Eddie. Well, wouldn't you rather do that than have it all wrong? (Rings servants' bell r. of R.u. arch.) I suppose not. Women like to wait till it's too late and then kick about things. (Enter Con- nors R.U.J I'll have the new car to-night, Connors. Marguerite. Sweetie's going to use it. Connors. Yes, sir. Mrs. Wilton has ordered it. Eddie. Oh — well, then I'll have anything that's in the garage. Marguerite. Where's your car ? Eddie. It's down on a stone wall at Elmhurst, Long Island. Marguerite. Eddie! Eddie. Didn't you read about it in the paper? Marguerite. No — I don't have time to read the papers. Eddie. Well — ^it's there, anyhow. (To ConnorsJ The big Swede is coming to-night, Connors, to give me a rub — then I'm going to take a nap. Connors. Yes, sir. Eddie. At about nine o'clock a man will call with an envelope. You look in it and see that there are two tickets for the prize fight to-night. They'll be fifty dollars. Get the money from father. I've had a little bad luck to-day. Connors. Your father is going out, sir. Eddie. He isn't going out before he comes in, is A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 13 he? (To MargueriteJ Maybe youVe got it, Midge ? Marguerite. No. I've to see father, too. (Exits R.u. up the stairs.) Eddie. Well, get it from father before he goes, Connors. (Crosses to arch r.u.J And don't wake me up before nine. (Exits up the stairs R.uJ (Enter Wilton l.c. A charming, tired gentleman in the early forties, whose hair is turning gray.) Wilton. Well, Connors — Fm home early to- night. Connors. Why, yes, sir — you are a little early for you, sir. (Takes Wilton's coat and hat, exits L.u. and returns. Wilton crosses r.) Oh! Mr. Belden will stop in on his way home, sir. Wilton. (r,c.) Belden? I just left him at the office. Connors, (c.) Yes, sir; he phoned something came up he wants to speak to you about. He says if you could wait in a little while before going out, he would appreciate it. Wilton. Well, I'd appreciate it myself to wait in a little while before going out. (Pause.) Every- body's out, I suppose? Connors. Why, no, sir — they've all come in. But they're all going out again, sir. Wilton. Of course — of course. (Going to fire- place) Am I going out to-night, Connors ? Connors. Why, yes, sir. You're to dine at the Longley's with Mrs. Wilton, sir — and if you won't do that, she will stop by for you at about nine and take you to the opera, sir. And then there's a re- ception after, I think, sir. Wilton, (r.) Oh! (Looks into fire and sighs) 14 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY Do you know, Connors — I have an idea that I'm get- ting old. Connors, ("r.c. Distressed) Oh, no, Mr. Wil- ton — no, you're a young man yet, sir. Wilton. Well, then why is it that I feel I would like to spend a quiet evening at home — dine with my family, perhaps play a game of cribbage and — go to bed ? Connors. Well, that's a nice way to do some- times, sir. Wilton. I should think it would be. I don't know anything about it, of course. Connors. Why, you're tired, sir — that's all's the matter. Wilton. Is that all that's the matter, Connors? Connors. Why, yes, sir. You go out every night — and you can't sleep mornings like the rest do, sir. Wilton. Do I go out every night, Connors? Connors. Why, you certainly do, sir. Wilton. Did I go out last night? Connors. Why, yes, sir. You went to the Cope- ly-Pritchards last night, sir. Wilton. So I did — ^but I don't remember much about it. Connors. It was a song recital, I think, sir — and charades. Mrs. Wilton took part. Wilton. Oh, yes, Mrs. Wilton took part. I think I went to sleep — in fact, I'm sure I did. But I didn't rest very well. I was in a camp chair. Connors. That's not like being in your own bed, sir. Wilton. No, it's not, Connors. And even if it were — you're not dressed for it. Connors. No, sir. A man that's used to his pajamas wants them, sir, when he's sleeping. Wilton. Yes, yes — and yet if you wore pajamas to a song recital people would think it odd. A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 15 Connors. (Going to cellar ette up c.) I suppose they would, sir. READY door-hell. Wilton. Oh, yes — they certainly would, Con- nors. Not realizing how appropriate the attire would be. (Sits wearily in chair.) Connors. (Who has poured out a glass of Sherry) Here, sir. This is very light. It will rest you, sir. (Gives Wilton the glass.) Wilton. Now, if I could only put on my old brown velvet smoking- jacket for dinner — and change into pajamas later, for the opera. Connors. Your old smoking-jacket is in the hall closet, sir. It's on its way downstairs. Mrs. Wil- ton ordered it thrown out. Wilton. Thrown out? Connors. Yes, sir. Wilton. Well, Connors, suppose we make a res- cue. (Connors goes out r.u.; returns immediately with velvet smoking jacket, which Wilton puts on. Connors takes his coat out in hallway ; comes hack immediately.) You just put it back in my wardrobe when I get through with it. Connors. Yes, sir. Oh, Mr. Eddie is expecting some tickets to-night, sir — ^they'll be fifty dollars — it's a prize fight, sir. He said I was to ask you for the money, Wilton. A prize fight! Does he go to those things? Well, that's rather encouraging. (Pulling out pockethook, he extracts a hill and gives it to CoNNORS.J Is Mr. Eddie dining at home to-night? Connors. He's not dining at all, sir. I don't think he's feeling quite well. Wilton. Qh! . . . Connors. And — Miss Marguerite wants to see you, too, sir. Wilton. (Hopefully) Is she going to be here for dinner? i6 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY Connors. She's dining in her room, sir. BELL. Wilton. Oh, well I guess this will do, Connors. (Gives him another hill.) Connors. (Taking hill) Yes, sir. (Connors exits into hallway l.u. and returns immediately.) It's Mr. George Struthers, sir. Wilton. Who ? Connors. Mr. George Struthers. Wilton. He doesn't want to see me, does he? Connors. He seems to, sir. Wilton. Doesn't he want to see Miss Marguer- ite? Connors. He asked for you, sir. Wilton. All right, Connors. (Exit Connors into hallway l.u. Enter George Struthers, a good-looking, prosaic young man, faultlessly dressed.) George. Excuse my coming in on you this way, Mr. Wilton, but I'm really very much disturbed. Wilton. (Rising) Don't be disturbed on my ac- count. Have a chair. George. I can't, Mr. Wilton. I can't sit down. (Sits on ottoman c.) I'm too upset really. It's about Marguerite. I suppose she has told you our engagement is broken. Wilton. Why, no — I didn't know you were en- gaged. Allow me to congratulate you. George. But I said the engagement is broken, Mr. Wilton. Wilton. Allow me to Oh, so you did. (Sits.) George. Marguerite suits me exactly, if it weren't for a number of things that I should think you, as her father, would view with growing concern. A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 17 Wilton. Really? Perhaps I don't know them. I was saved any worry about her engagement to you by not being informed of it. George. I don't understand that. We've been engaged for months. It happened while we were at Hot Springs. W^iLTON. You might have dropped me a line, if you'd thought of it. George. I did. But Marguerite didn't like the letter, so she said she'd write herself. Wilton. Oh, well, perhaps she will when she gets round to it. George. To go back to what I was saying — per- haps you don't know — Marguerite plays cards from morning till night. Did you know thatf Wilton. I know she likes bridge, but I didn't know the hours were so confininsr as all that. George. When she's not playing cards, she*s dancing and seeing a side of life that I don't think improves a young girl, Mr. Wilton. Wilton. She can't see very much of it, accord- ing to the bridge schedule you've laid out for her. George. She plays cards for money — do you know that?^ Wilton. Yes, I know that. George. I may be old-fashioned, but I don't think winning money at cards is wholesome for a young girl. Wilton. I don't think her health has been seri- ously undermined by winning any, do you? George. Well, or losing it either, for that matter. You don't want your wife throwing money away in a perfectly useless pursuit, do you? Wilton. No. Maybe we could have her taught to play better, READY door-bell. i8 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY George. What kind of a wife and mother is she going to make, Mr, Wilton? Wilton. I haven't the faintest idea, really. What do you think? George. I wrote her a letter this morning — I sup- pose she has it by now. It just occurred to me that if you would have a talk with her Wilton. I should be delighted, if you can ar- range it. I rarely see her — my family is usually scattered when I come home — and as I leave the house before any of them are up, my chances for conversation are somewhat limited. George. I told her I was coming to-night for a final understanding. Wilton. Oh, is she going to be here? George. I don't know, but I am. Wilton. Good! Have you a dinner engage- ment? George. Yes. I always dine with my parents on Thursday nights, Mr. Wilton. I feel that I owe it to them to devote one night a week to them. Wilton. (Disappointed) Well, if I see Mar- guerite, I'll try and think of something to say about all these things. George. Thank you, Mr. Wilton. I'm sure you can think of the right thing. Wilton. Are you? DOOR-BELL, George. You have the reputation of being a man who never makes a mistake in talking business. Wilton. But this is not my office, you know. (Enter Connors, l.v.) Connors. Mr. Belden is calling, sir. Wilton. Oh, show him in. (Enter Belden l.u. Connors, after showing Belden in, exits up r.u.) A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 19 Come in. How have you stood the long separation of thirty-five minutes? Do you know Mr. Struth- ers, Mr. Belden ? Belden. No. (Shakes hands.) I know Mr. Struthers* father very well. How is your father? George. Very well, indeed, except that he has a slight cold. Belden. Most remarkable man. Wilton. I don't see anything remarkable in that. Everybody seems to have one. Belden. Your father is an old man. George. Yes, but have you ever seen my grand- father ? Belden. No. Wilton. You ought to see him, Belden. He's even older than his father. If you can conceive of such a thing. George. I think I'll be going along, Mr. Wilton, but I'll be back perhaps later. I hope you can do something for me. Wilton. Yes, yes, I hope so. Good night. (Exit George l.u.J What is it, John? (Crosses c. Gets cigars.) Belden. I won't keep you, Henry. Just want you to sign the papers for Marshall & Whyte. I didn't realize that you were leaving the office. Wilton, ("r. of table) Oh, yes, I left five min- utes early to-night. Thought I'd see how it seemed to have a little time on my hands. Have a chair, John. Have a cigar. (Wilton signs papers r. of table with pen given by Belden, then returns papers and pen to Belden.) Belden. ("l. front of seat) I suppose you're going out to-night ? (Sits.) 20 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY Wilton. (By table c) I suppose so. Belden. Go out a good deal, don't you? Wilton. I've heard a rumor to that effect. So do you. (Sits on edge of table.) Belden. Yes, yes, I go. Don't care for it much, but feel I must. Wilton. Why? Belden. Well, don't you? Wilton. Not exactly "must." Belden. How's Mrs. Wilton? Wilton. Emmy? Always well, I'm glad to say. And Mrs. Belden? Belden. She's at Hot Springs. I felt that / needed the rest. Wilton. I see. Belden. Anything on your mind ? Wilton. Nothing to speak of. Belden. You don't seem quite like yourself this evening. Wilton. Don't I? Belden. Was there anything Wilton. Now we're talking about it, I'd like to This is hardly business you know. Belden. Well, what of that? Wilton. Well, we've had hardly anything but business between us, you know, all these years. Belden. Why, you can't mean that, Henry. Mrs. Belden and I have dined with you and you with us and we Wilton. Oh, I know — dinners and calls — but we've never said anything about the real things. Belden. Real things? Wilton. Yes; life and all that. Belden. Oh, life. Was there anything special about life, Henry? Wilton. Yes, I was wondering, Belden, if you — if you — ever have the feeling that your wife — and — A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 21 family of course — that — they value you at all ex- cept Belden. Value you? Wilton. (Sits r. of table.) Now wait, wait. I'm going to get this thing right, now that I've started. It isn't easy to talk about. Do you ever have the feeling that they care for you only as the one who supplies everything? Just the money- making machine, and all that? Belden. Why, I — well, yes, I have thought of it, but I never let it trouble me. Do you? Wilton. Oh, well, we can't always help thinking, you know. Belden. Why, of course you can. Think of something else. Wilton. What else is there? Belden. Serious as all that, is it? Wilton. Well, it troubles me some. Foolish, I dare say. Belden. It certainly is, Henry. Wilton. You see, it's a little different with me. She's so young and I thought at the time that it might be a mistake for me to marry again. Belden. No more a mistake than for anyone to marry anybody. No, we have to take life as it comes, Henry. If they value us merely as pro- viders, the thing is to be good ones. Wilton. Yes, we can always do that. Belden. Yes, we certainly can always do that. No use brooding over these things, and I daresay lots of the time that we think that they're thinking all sorts of things, they're not thinking at all. Wilton. You think there's a chance of that? READY door-bell. Belden. I'm sure of it; so why worry? Wilton. Exactly. Why worry? Belden. Good-night, Henry. (Rising.) 22 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY Wilton. Good-night, John. (Rising.) (Exit Belden, l.u. Enter Connors r.u.) Wilton. I certainly would like to stay at home to-night, Connors, but not alone. I wonder how people arrange with their families to do it. Have you any idea? How was it with you — your father — and mother — did they Connors. Well sir, of course, for the poor, it's a very simple matter. They've no money to spend and they don't get to go very often, so they stay at home more or less together. Wilton. Hm — "they don't get to go very often." They don't know, I suppose, how fortunate they are. BELL. Connors. No, sir, I suppose not. Wilton. (Crossing to fireplace) "The poor don't get to go very often." (Exit Connors l.u. Returns immediately.) Connors. It's Mr. Rafaelo calling, sir. He says in case you decide not to dine out, he will take Mrs. Wilton. Wilton. Oh, Mr. Rafaelo. I want to see him. Show him in. Connors. Yes, sir. (Connors exits r.u., after showing Rafaelo in L.u.j Rafaelo. (c.) Ah, Mr. Weelton, good evening. Wilton, (r.) Good evening, Mr. Rafaelo. Rafaelo. It is since some time I have seen you. But nearly every day Mrs. Weelton in my studio say you are splendeed — busy — always busy making the great piles of monee. Wilton. Yes. How's the picture coming on? Rafaelo. Very well, I think, Mr. Weelton. A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 23 Wilton. Do you find that Mrs. Wilton has changed much since you began it? Let me see — how long ago was it? Rafaelo. It is — er — well — I think another month it will be completed. Wilton. Another month ? Rafaelo. You see, Mr. Weelton, of all the sub- ject I have put on the canvas, Mrs. Weelton is most difficult lady. She change so — so variable the face. One day so gay an' happy, come uno bambino, like a child, and then so sad — like the Madonna. Wilton. Oh ! That must be very trying for you. Rafaelo. You do not notice eet, perhaps. Wilton. Well, you see, Rafaelo, I'm a very busy man. I don't have time to sit and look at Mrs. Wilton steadily for two hours and a half a day, much as I should like to do so. Rafaelo. That is where I have the advantage. / can look at Mrs. Weelton and make monee. Wilton. Yes, that's where you have the advan- tage. You can look at her. Rafaelo. I wish you could see the picture, Mr. Weelton, before it is finished. Wilton. I wish I could see it after it's finished. Rafaelo. Ah, well, I thought perhaps you might make a suggestion. Wilton. The only suggestion I can make is your signature. Rafaelo. Grazio. Wilton. I think Mrs. Wilton has been looking rather pale lately. It occurred to me that the air in your studio might account for it — the turpentine, you know. Rafaelo. Oh, but that is a nice, clean smell, Mr. Weelton. Wilton. So are chloroform and ether. 24 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY Rafaelo. Well, eet is coming Spring — I can open more the windows. And now to explain why I am here. Do you dine at Mrs. Longley's to- night? Do you take Mrs. Weelton? Wilton. If she goes, yes. Rafaelo. Oh, she goes. She goes. Wilton. She does. Very well — very well. Rafaelo. So if you — er — for any reason cannot go, I take her with a great pleasure. Wilton. (Pleasantly) I see. Well, perhaps some other time you can have that pleasure. Rafaelo. (Hesitating, disappointed) Then — I will see you later. (Goes up L.j READY door-hell Wilton. Yes — quite so. Rafaelo. (Hesitating, turns) You will see Mrs. Weelton, of course — and explain. Wilton. Explain ? Rafaelo. Yes — you will explain my absence. Wilton. Well, I'll explain my presence — ^per- haps that will do just as well. (Smiling.) Rafaelo. (A little confused, looking at Wilton j Then, for a little while, a rivederci. (Exits L.u.j Wilton. Yes, indeed. A river ditch or what ever it is. (Enter Connors down c.) Wilton. (To Connorsj Connors, if by any chance the family should dine at home to-night, there'd be some dinner, I suppose? Connors. Oh, dear, yes, sir. Lizzie has a fine dinner every night, just on the chance that some- body might be home. Wilton. Well, you tell Lizzie that there's just a chance to-night. One chance in a hundred. Wc must never be sure of anything. A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 25 Connors. Yes, sir. (Exits R.u.j Wilton. (Thoughtfully) "The poor don't get to go very often." BELL rings. (Wilton exits r.u. and goes up stairs. Connors crosses in hallway from r. to l., passing left door. Enter Connors and Clarence Rivers. Clarence has a paper parcel containing roses.) Clarence. Good evening, Connors. (Puts flow- ers on table c.) Connors. (A little surprised) Good evening, Mr. Rivers — er — who did you wish to see, sir? Clarence. (Easily) Oh, nohody in particular, I've come to dinner, Connors. You can take my coat, if you will. I'm a little early, so you needn't announce me. Connors. (Taking the coat) Yes, sir. Do they expect you, sir? Clarence. Why, I suppose so. Have you any reason to suppose that they don't, Connors? Connors. No, sir — only that Miss Marguerite is dining in her room, Mr. Eddie has left orders not to wake him until nine, and Mr. and Mrs. Wilton are dining out, sir. Clarence. Oh, well, in that case, I'll have my coat. Connors. (Helping him on with it) I'm very sorry, Mr. Rivers. Clarence. Oh, that's quite all right, Connors. They've forgotten all about it. Connors. The engagement was made some time ago, sir? Clarence. Oh, yes — day before yesterday. Connors. Well really, sir, it's too bad. Shall I tell Miss Marguerite that you called? Clarence. On the whole, I believe I wouldn't, Connors. 26 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY Connors. Perhaps you're ri^ht, sir. It mi^ht spoil her evening. Clarence. Oh, if it would, I'd insist on your telling her. But it wouldn't. No, Connors — she'd just say : "How fortunate it was only Clarence Riv- ers." Connors. Perhaps you're right, sir. Clarence. Of course I'm right. Connors. You're welcome to stay if you like, sir. There'll be dinner, you know, even if no one is here. Clarence. Thanks, Connors, but I'm afraid I'd be lonely. By Jove, I think someone else is coming, too. Miss Partington was asked at the same time I was. Connors. I don't think she'll be coming, sir. I overheard, quite accidentally, that she — that they — that the engagement was broken ofif this afternoon, sir. Her and Mr. Eddie, you know. Clarence. Oh, I don't think that would make any difiference about her coming to dinner, Connors. Connors. Don't you, sir? Clarence. No, I'll just drop around and tell her that they're all asleep and dining out and so forth. Connors. (Giving him his hat) It's too bad to put you to that trouble, sir. Maybe you will dine there. Clarence. Yes, that's a good idea. (Goes to table and gets flowers.) Thanks for the suggestion, Connors. Good night. (Exits h.v.) (Enter Wilton down stairs and in r. door.) Wilton, (r.c.) Connors, the chances of our staying at home are improving. What did Lizzie say? Connors, (c.) She didn't say anything, sir — she just looked. A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 27 Wilton. And are we to interpret that look as a favorable symptom? Connors. She was very much pleased, sir. Wilton. Well, that's good. Oh, Connors, ask Mrs. Wilton to come here for a moment. Connors. Yes, sir. (Exits u.r., gomg up stairs.) Wilton. (Going l. of fable) "The poor don't get to go, very often." (Brings his hand softly down on the table as though an idea has crystallised in his mind.) (Enter Emmie r.u. from upstairs. She wears a negligee and her hair is in curls on her shoul- ders.) Emmie. (Down c.) Goodness, Harry, what's the matter? I was just having my hair done. Wilton. (Looking at her) It looks so pretty that way. Emmie. Connors said you wanted to speak to me ; do you ? Wilton. Yes — yes, dear — I do. Emmie. Is anything the matter, Harry, that you couldn't come upstairs ? Wilton. I wanted to see you alone. Emmie. Well, hurry, then, because I mustn't keep Strogelberg. He has millions of people to do. Wilton. Who is Strogelberg? Emmie. He's the man who does my hair. Wilton. Tell him to go away. Wear your hair as it is to-night — it's more fitting. Emmie. More fitting? Wilton. Yes — that's what I said — more fitting. We're not going out. Emmie. Oh, but we are. We're going to dinner at the Longley's. And then to the Opera, and then to a reception at the Briscoe's for some cousin of theirs who's invented something or other, something that explodes. He's going to tell us about it. 28 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY Wilton. (Calmly) My dear child, we don't need to go out of our own house to-night, to hear about things that explode. Emmie. Why, what do you mean, Harry? Wilton. Vm ruined, Emmie — that's all. Emmie. Ruined! (He nods.) But how can you be ruined? You can't be really ruined. You don't mean that you're really ruined, Harry? Wilton. Don't keep saying it over like that — will you? Emmie. No — I won't — but ruined — I can't be- lieve it — it's so sudden. Wilton. Well, that's the way those things are. Emmie. Well, of course, if we're ruined — really ruined — we can't do anything. (Sits ottoman.) Wilton. No, we can't do anything. (Crossing to fireplace.) Well, we can have dinner. Emmie. Where? Wilton. Here. It's all ready and no extra ex- pense to eat it. Emmie. Ruined. . . . Are you going to tell anybody, Harry ? Wilton. I don't think it will be necessary. Emmie. Ruined ! It doesn't seem like us, Harry. Are you sure ? Mightn't there be some mistake ? Wilton. (At fireplace) Haven't you any confi- dence in me at all ? Emmie. Of course I have, Harry. You must know — you know everything about business. Yes, I believe you. But I wish I'd known it this morn- ing. I made so many engagements. And I went to so many shops. Wilton. Oh well, never mind. Emmie. (Rises) Oh, how I wish now I'd kept all the things I've seen about what people can live on. We've been a terribly expensive family the past year, Harry. My being at Palm Beach so A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 29 long, and Marguerite at Hot Springs,and Eddie in Canada studying aviation. And Kathrine Longley says the cost of living alone is going up so. . . . Wilton. Well, we'll try living together for a while. Emmie. (Goes to him) Ruined! — Will it be in the papers, Harry? Wilton. Not yet a while. Emmie. I'm glad. It will be nice to have the first few days quietly together. (Suddenly) Harry ! Isn't it a good thing we bought the new car — for now we can sell it and get almost as much as we paid for it ! Wilton. I hadn't thought of that. What a pity I didn't buy a half a dozen of them. Emmie. Oh, well, we'll think of lots of things to do. (Encouragingly) You know, I think the important thing about being ruined, Harry, is not to get frightened. And somehow, I don't feel afraid a bit about being ruined — as long as I'm ruined with you. Wilton. (Pleased) Why, of course — there's no use getting up a lot of excitement about it. Emmie. (Agreeing) No, for then you can't do anything. It might even be better for us to go out to-night, Harry, as though nothing had happened. Wilton. No, no — I don't think we'd better do that. Emmie. No. I don't want to, either. I was just thinking of the looks of it. Oh, I must tell Strogel- berg to go. Now, isn't it fortunate — I've saved three dollars not having my hair done ! Wilton. Three dollars ! Well, we're getting on splendidly. Emmie. And I must telephone Katherine Long- ley. Shall I tell her, Harry? 30 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY Wilton. Why not say you'll explain later — or ril explain later. Emmie. Oh, yes — it would please Katherine so if you would, Harry. Wilton. Do you think so? READY telephone, Emmie. Oh, yes — I know it. She'd be so flat- tered to have you talking business to her, Harry. Anyone would. I know — I'll send word by Pietro that we're not coming and that you'll explain later. Pietro is coming for me, in case you wouldn't go. Wilton. If you mean Mr. Rafaelo, he came. Emmie. Oh, did he? Do you mind my calling him Pietro, Harry? Wilton. I don't know — I hadn't thought about it. Perhaps I do. Emmie. You wouldn't if you knew how well ac- quainted we are ! (Telephone hell.) It's really quite all right. You don't realize how much I've seen him. What did you say to him, Harry? ('Connors enters and goes to telephone.) Wilton. We talked about the picture. Emmie. Oh — and will he explain to Katherine? Connors. (Down a hit) Mrs. Longley on the telephone. Madam. Wilton. Tell her we're unavoidably detained at home, Connors. (Sits R. at fireplace.) Connors. Yes, sir. (Goes to telephone.) Hello! Mrs. Longley? Mr. Wilton told me to say that they are unavoidably detained at home to dinner. Yes, Madam. I will ask. Madam, but I'm afraid it's no use. (To Wilton and EmmieJ She's greatly disturbed about the two chairs. Wilton, (r.) Chairs? Connors. The absence of two chairs, sir. A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 31 Wilton. Well, can't we send her over a couple of chairs? Emmie, (c.) Two vacant chairs at a dinner, Harry — it really is dreadful. Connors. (Remaining at phone) I was just thinking, Madam — Mr. Rivers dropped in here to dinner — he and Miss Partington in some way thought they were expected — if they would help Mrs. Long- ley out. I know they've no other engagement. Wilton. An excellent idea, I should say. Emmie. Do you really think it would do? I don't think Katherine has ever met Clarence Rivers. Wilton. Well, that's all the better. Emmie. But she knows the Partingtons. Shall I tell her? (Starts to phone.) Wilton. Why not let Connors do it ? He's there. Emmie. All right — but be sure and say how amusing Mr. Rivers is, Connors. (Crosses down L.) Connors. (At the phone) Mrs. Longley? Mrs. Wilton suggested two friends to occupy the chairs — • yes, Madam — Mr. Rivers, a very amusing gentle- man, who is dining out to-night, and Miss Parting- ton. The phone is 8000 River. (To EmmieJ She doesn't seem pleased. Emmie. Well, we've done the best we can. (Enter Marguerite r.u. in negligee.) Marguerite. (Going to Wiltonj Father, this won't be enough. (Holding out bill) I'm going to play bridge for charity to-night at the Wolcott's. Emmie. (Snatching at the bill) Give it to me. Got any more? Marguerite. (Surprised, letting her have it) Why, Sweetie — what's the matter? Emmie. The matter is, that your father is ruined. 32 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY Don't make a fuss about it, for weVe decided not to. Don't say anything, Harry, until I come back. (Exits, running upstairs R.u.J Marguerite. Father, it's not true, is it? (Cross- ing to seat and looking into his face.) Oh, you poor darling — and you kept it from us all the time. Wilton. No, no — it was all quite sudden. Marguerite. Oh, no, dear — you must have known it for weeks. Oh, how beautifully you be- have about it ! Wilton. So do you. Marguerite. What did Sweetie say when you told her? Wilton. She was splendid, really. Very en- couraging. Marguerite. It's surprising, isn't it? Wilton. Is it? Marguerite. Yes, because she's not related to you like Eddie and me. Wilton. Not in the same way, of course. Do you think Eddie will be all right about it? Marguerite. Of course — why shouldn't he be? When you've worked so and done everything for us and given us everything! Wilton. Why, I didn't think you'd noticed that. Marguerite. Let Eddie go to work — it will do him good. Wilton. It seems rather a large order for Eddie — to take care of us all — doesn't it? Marguerite. Well, I'm perfectly willing to help him, if he'll do something that I understand. We might give riding lessons. Wilton. Yes. If you can find any pupils able to keep up with you By the way, Peggy (Catching himself) Oh, 3^ou don't like to be called Peggy, do you? A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 33 Marguerite. Oh, yes, if we're ruined, darling, you can call me anything. Wilton. I was going to say, George Struthers came Marguerite. Did he ? Wilton. I didn't know about your engagement, did I? Marguerite. Didn't you? No, I suppose you didn't. Well, we were. Wilton. So he said. Marguerite. It happened at Hot Springs. It was awfully stupid there and George seemed to think it would be a good idea. Wilton. He said something about writing me a letter. Marguerite. Yes — he wrote you a terribly long letter. I was afraid it would make you take a dis- like to him. Father, so I persuaded him not to send it. Wilton. Oh, you didn't want me to take a dis- like to him? Marguerite. Not then. Wilton. And now? Marguerite. Well, of course there's more to do in town. Did George say anything about me ? Wilton. He said he was coming to-night, but I didn't know whether you were going out or not. Are you? Marguerite. Of course I won't go out. I'll have dinner with you and Sweetie. You must eat, you know, darling. You will, won't you? (Eddie enters r.u. in bathrobe, followed by Emmie, who has told him the news, coming hurriedly down the stairway.) Eddie. (Going to Wilton j What's this I hear, Dad? 34 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY Emmie. I told him, Harry. Eddie. (His arm round WiltonJ Now, listen — don't you worry — I'll go right to work to-morrow. Old Partington's crazy to have me in his office. Wilton. (Smiling) He certainly is. Eddie. Maybe you don't think I'm cut out for business. But you watch me, Dad — and while I'm about it (Pulls bill out of his pocket that was given him for the tickets. Emmie seises it.) Emmie. Give it to m.e. We ought to have an old shoe or something, to put it in. Isn't that what people do? That makes a hundred, Harry. Wilton. One hundred and three — don't forget old Strogelberg. Eddie. I can take care of all of you — if not in the style you're accustomed to, some other kind. And I'll work up — Father knows it can be done. There's nothing small about you, Dad. You must have failed for at least fifty million dollars. Emmie. Think of starting with nothing at all and failing for fifty million dollars ! It's simply mag- nificent ! Wilton. Really, you embarrass me. Do you think, perhaps, I'm the greatest failure in the world ? Eddie. Why, of course, Dad. Nothing to it. Marguerite. Father, you do everything better than anyone else. Wilton. Why, this is delightful. I*d no idea you'd all appreciate it like this. This is really one of the most delightful — I mean under the circum- stances. Emmie. I suppose we'll go and live in the coun- try, Harry. I should think an abandoned farm would be just the very thing for us. Marguerite. Yes — you can get them for noth- ing, Father, up in Connecticut. A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 35 Emmie. Maybe you wouldn't like an abandoned farm, Harry? Wilton. Well, I would like it if it were suffi- ciently abandoned — it might be a little hard for Eddie to commute from an abandoned farm. Eddie. Oh, well, I can stay at the Turkish bath — except Sundays. There'll be trains I can get to the farm Sunday morning and come back Sunday night. Emmie. We can raise all kinds of things, Harry, and now that eggs have gone up so, why not keep chickens ? Wilton. Yes, if we could persuade them to stay. I thought perhaps their ideas had gone up with the eggs and that they might not be satisfied with any- thing less than an apartment in town. Marguerite. Li lots of ways it will be a sort of relief. Just think, Eddie — we won't have to take part in those dances for charity — the Foundlings Home things. Eddie. That's right. Wilton. I never could understand dancing while you're thinking of those poor little foundlings ? Emmie. You don't think of them, Harry. Don't you see? You don't have to think of them, because you've paid five dollars. Wilton. Oh, I see — very reasonable, too. To be able to stop thinking for five dollars. Emmie. I think we should dress, Marguerite. We must think of the servants. (Emmie and Marguerite exit and go upstairs.) Eddie. I'm going to phone Julie — if I've re- formed, she ought to know it. (Goes to phone. At phone) Give me 8000 River. Is Miss Partington in? (To Wilton j Julie and I are engaged, you know. Father. 36 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY READY curtain. Wilton. No — really? Eddie. That is, we were — maybe we're not — I don't know. Wilton. Let me know when you find out. Eddie. Hello — hello, Julie. All right. How are you? Just wanted to tell you that I've cut out everything you don't like. Yes — I've cut her out, too. (Wilton goes up and rings bell r. of r.u. arch.) Now listen, Julie — I know — I know all that — but will you listen. Just listen. (Disgusted.) All right, I'm listening. (Enter Connors r.u.^ Wilton. I just wanted to tell you that we'll all be here for dinner, Connors. Eddie. (In phone) But I can explain that. Connors. Yes, sir. Very good, sir. Lizzie will be pleased. She was just saying what fine broilers came in from the country. Eddie. (In phone) Well, of course, if you won't let me. Wilton. Yes. It — er — it really looks as though I'm going to have a quiet evening at home, Con- nors. Connors. (Smiling) Yes, sir. (Exit Wilton and Connors r.u.} Eddie. (In phone) \Nt\\, how do you know something hasn't happened — I guess you'll think so when you hear what it is. Tve got the whole fam- ily to take care of — and I'm glad to do it, but I would like a little appreciation. (Connors enters with dinner gong r.u., ivhich he heats cheerfully.) A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 37 Eddie. (In phone) I say Tve got the whole fam- ily to take care of. Of course I can. (Connors, shocked, stops.) I do mean it — my father is ruined. Good-bye. (To Connorsj That's not dinner, Con- nors? Connors. The dressing bell, sir. Dinner in half an hour. (Eddie dashes past him up the stairs. Connors, beats dinner gong three sad slow strokes.) CURTAIN ACT I Scene 2 : The same. Later in the evening. (On rise enter Connors r.u. He has letters in his hand which he lays on a silver tray on fable c. Enter Albertine r.u. j Albertine. (Softly) Connors — Meestaire Con- nors. Connors, (l. of table) Oh, Albertine? Albertine. ^r. of t., coming down) Connors, I 'ope we get our money. Connors. What do you mean, "get our money"? Albertine. 'Aven't you 'eard? Then I'll tell you — Meestaire Weelton is rueened ! Connors. Come, Albertine — run upstairs, do. Before anyone hears you. Albertine. I heard them say eet — it is true. An' that is w'y they stay for dinner. Meestaire Strogelberg he is told "do not come again." Madame weel fix her own hair ! Eet is true ! Rueened ! Connors. I can't be talking to you like this Albertine. Madame tell Meestaire Eddie — "Your father is rueened." Eet is true ! Connors. You should never know things until you're told, Albertine. Albertine. I have known eet in some place be- fore. They live so extravagant. The women think "we are safe," but all the time she sit on a volcano. 38 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 39 Connors. (Nervously) Come, come — you mustn't, really. READY door-hell. Albertine. I 'ope I get my money — I am going. The wise rat, she leave the sinking ship before he go down. (Goes up to R.u.j Connors. Well — I'm not a wise rat, my girl, I'm glad to say. Albertine. Well, I am. (Exits r.u.J (Marguerite enters and watches Albertine exit.) Marguerite. I suppose Albertine has told you, Connors. I knew she was listening upstairs. I sup- pose she's going. Well, no one cares if she does. Connors. Oh, Miss — is it true? About your father? Marguerite. Yes, Connors, it is. But you mustn't worry him, will you ? Connors. (Disturbed) I worry him? Oh, no. Miss. Marguerite. Father thinks so much of you, Con- nors. I thought perhaps he might have told you. Connors. No, Miss, he didn't. Marguerite. We didn't know until to-night. (Door-hell rings. Marguerite crosses l. Con- nors exits L.U.J George. (In hallway) Is Miss Marguerite at home? Connors. (In hallway) I'll see, sir. Marguerite. Come in, George. George. (Enters l.u. Connors exits l.) I just dropped in for a moment. Marguerite. Aren't you going out? (Leaves hat and plans on console table.) Marguerite. No — I'm not. 40 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY George. (Down) I thought you were going to the Wolcott's to play bridge. Marguerite. (Crosses and sits sofa l.c. Sweet- ly) Did you? George. (Down to l. of table) Marguerite — was it because of what I said that you decided not to go? Marguerite. What did you say? George. I said I didn't Hke your playing cards for money. Marguerite. Did you say it to mef George. No, I said it to Mr. Wilton. Marguerite. Hoping he'd tell me? George. Yes. Marguerite. Well, he didn't. He doesn't talk about people behind their backs. George. Doesn't he? Well, why don't you try and be like him? Marguerite. What do you mean? George. (Bitterly) "Let him dream on" — that's what I mean. Marguerite. (Innocently) Let who dream on? George. Me, I suppose you meant. Do you deny that you said it? Marguerite. No, of course not. That would be silly — one might say anything and forget it. George. It came to me pretty straight. Some one told you that I had said we were to be married early in the fall. And your comment was, "Let him dream on." That's a nice thing to hear. Marguerite. Well, I don't really see anything so terrible in that, George. It doesn't mean any- thing — and if it does it means something rather nice. Most people would be glad to dream on after they're married, instead of waking up. George. You didn't say anything about "after we were married." "A Successful Calamity" See page 42 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 41 Marguerite. Of course it was Clarence Rivers told you. George. But you did say it. And now the ques- tion is — did you mean it? Marguerite. Not if you don't like it, George, of course not. George. Do you take the slightest interest in the house ? If not I'll just return these plans to Hoakum and Birdsall. (Goes up.) Marguerite. (Affecting interest) Oh, have you the plans with you? Well, you know I did see them once, George. George. (Gets plans from console table) Only the ground floor. Marguerite. Oh, is there more of it? George. Why, of course — did you think I'd build a house with no upstairs to it? Marguerite. Why, I thought the upstairs and everything was downstairs. It seemed large enough without anything more. George. Well, you want a large house, don't you ? You've got to have servants and you've got to have your friends. And your relatives come to visit you, don't they ? I know mine do. Marguerite. Oh, do they? George. (Who has opened package on table c.) Now what I particularly wanted you to see is the arrangement of the rooms on the second floor south. (Enter Eddie r.u.j Eddie. Hello, George. Glad to see you. George. Hello, — don't touch those papers there, Eddie, or you'll get me all mixed up. Eddie. What is it? Have you gone into the indigo business? George. It's plans for the house. 42 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY Eddie. Oh, I see. George. (To Marguerite, who crosses to tabh) Here is your room. Now, the question is, whether you would rather have this sleeping porch on the other side of the dressing room — then you have to go through here to get to it. Marguerite. Across a hall? George. (Nervously) Yes. Marguerite. What's this? George. A closet. Marguerite. Oh, then I can't go through there. Eddie. Not unless you bore. Marguerite. Why not have the porch here — just outside my windows? George. You want it on the west side or it will be hot. Marguerite. Oh, well, I don't know, George. There doesn't seem to be any place to have it where I can get to it. Eddie. Why not go downstairs and enter from outside on a ladder? George. You're very funny, Eddie, but this is an important matter. If you'd put your mind on it, you might be some help. Eddie. My what ? All right, I will. Marguerite. (Pointing to plan) What's all this? George. That's my room. Eddie. (Looking) I suppose your porch works all right, George? George. Well, yes, because my rooms face north. They'll be very cold in winter. Eddie. When you're not there. Marguerite. What's this ? George. That's the nursery. Marguerite. But it's so huge, George. And look at the stairs ! A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 43 George. Well, you have to have stairs to get to the children, don't you? Marguerite. But such quantities of them! Eddie. Maybe you'll have quantities of children. And you have to have stairs to get away from them, too, you know. Marguerite. But stairs are dangerous, George — George. Don't be absurd — they'll have gates at the top. Marguerite. But children open those gates, George. I know I did and I fell down. Look — (Pointing to the hack of her neck.) I have the scar yet. Eddie. Well, why not have Yale locks put on the gates and only allow keys to the responsible children. George. Isn't there some place where we can go and be quiet? Marguerite. Yes — right in the music-room. (They start off.) Eddie. Have you told George? George. Told me what? Eddie. Nothing — I thought maybe Marguerite had told you. George. Well — what is it? Now I insist on being told. Eddie. Oh well, that's up to Marguerite. Marguerite. Why, it isn't. If you want to tell, tell. Eddie. I think it's a good thing to tell George — it's just that father's in some sort of a business crash. George. (Shocked) What! Wilton and Bel- den? Eddie. I don't know anything about it, really George. Why, that doesn't seem possible — I haven't heard a rumor of it. Marguerite. Neither had we. 44 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY George. (Suspiciously to Marguerite) That's the reason you're home to-night? Marguerite. What do you mean ? George. If your father's in trouble — you natural- ly — turn to me. Marguerite. (Simply) Yes. George. (Gloomily) Oh, I see. This is terrible. READY door-bell. Marguerite. (With spirit) You weren't mar- rying me for my money, were you, George? George. No. The question is — are you marry- ing me for mine ? Marguerite. (Hesitating) Why, George Stru- thers George. Well, upon my word it looks like it. My God ! (With real feeling) The thing I always dreaded. I did think as you had plenty of your own I was safe. Marguerite. Well, you don't have to marry me if you don't want to, George. George. I do want to — but the question is — Do you love me? Look at me. Eddie. Don't ask her to look at you, George, with that expression on your face. DOOR-BELL. Marguerite. I haven't the least idea, George, whether I do or not. Eddie. Believe me, that's saying a good deal. (Connors appears at l. door.) Connors. Miss Partington is here. Marguerite. It's Julie (George crosses l.) Eddie. Oh, Julie — show her in, Connors. (Enter Julie. She greets each in turn as they speak to her.) A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 45 Marguerite. Good evening, dear. Julie. You forgot that I was coming to dinner, didn't you ? Marguerite. Why, were you? But you're late, dear, we've had dinner. Julie. So have L Clarence said you'd forgotten we were coming. He had dinner with us. Marguerite. Oh, was he coming too? Well, you see it's been such an awful evening. George. I'll go along, I guess — Marguerite. (To GeorgeJ We can go into the music room if you like. (George gathers up plans from table L. and starts with Marguerite toward L.u.j Julie. What's that, George ? Are you writing a story? George. (At table) These are plans for a house that will probably never be built. Julie. Really? Aren't they any good? George. Good night. (Exit George and Marguerite l.u. They cross hall and enter music room in flat.) Eddie. You're a brick, Julie. Why didn't you say you were coming? Julie. Well, father and Uncle Jerry Partington were right near the telephone. I couldn't say any- thing. You look awfully ill, Eddie. Eddie. Yes — it's this worry over father. Julie. (Sitting 07i sofa) Is that it? Eddie. Of course. I should think a man would have a pretty good excuse for looking seedy — with his father ruined. Julie. Yes — it is a good excuse. 46 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY Eddie. I thought maybe I'd get a little sympa- thy— Julie. Fm awfully sorry for your father — Eddie. Thanks. Julie. But I really think, Eddie, that if it makes you — pull up and — and go to work — it will be a good thing for you. Eddie. Well, believe me — (Sits by her) — if I knew what to do, Fd be at work to-morrow morn- ing. If your uncle meant what you said he said — I'll be in his office at nine o'clock. Julie. Really, Eddie? Eddie. You bet. What was it he said? Julie. Let me see. Well — he said he was sorry to have me — Well, I guess Fd better not tell you, Eddie. READY cra^h. Eddie. Go ahead. Julie. He said it was a pity I had picked out such a lightweight — I think that was the word. (George and Marguerite come out of music room and exit L.) Eddie. Might be worse. Julie. And then he said, then he said — he'd just like to have you in his office for a week— but that was a good deal for uncle to say. Eddie. Yes — it depends a little on what he meant. But still— Julie. Oh, well — Uncle Jerry really means what he says, I think. Fd go and see him, Eddie. Eddie. If I do — (Crash. A door slams off stage. Eddie and Julie rise. Enter Marguerite.^ What was that, an explosion? Marguerite. No — George going out. Our en- gagement is broken — how's yours ? A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 47 Julie. I'm not going to be engaged to anybody this spring. I've been reading a book that says people are really more emotional in the spring, and when I look back Fve always been engaged in the spring — so Fm going to wait this year till the fall, anyway. Eddie. Fine — I'll call about the first of Novem- ber — arrive with the first frost. Julie. I'll tell you what I came for. Clarence wants us all to go and see some rhythmic dancing — • Madame Demidorf — she is perfectly wonderful, and it does something to your soul, Clarence says. Eddie. How does he know? Marguerite. We couldn't go anywhere to-night, Julie — we couldn't leave father. Julie. Oh — couldn't you? (Enter Clarence l.u.'^ Clarence. My dear children, I want you to come and see the most remarkable creature — Andrea Polski Demidorf — she's a Russian, very high class — related to a samovar or something. Eddie. I am sick of Russian dancing. Clarence. Of course, but this is different from anything you have ever seen. You don't know it, but dancing affects your soul. Eddie. It depends on who you are dancing with, I should think. Clarence. Well, here's the vital part of her theory. You know you have an aura. Eddie. Where ? Clarence. If you're capable of any spiritual radiations you have an aura round your head. Eddie. I'd rather have a wet towel around mine to-night. Clarence. Her dancing will give you one if you 48 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY haven't got one. Well, how about it — will you go? Marguerite. We can't, Clarence. We're in great trouble. Clarence. Oh, yes — I know — I didn't want to speak of it unless you did — I'm awfully sorry about your father, old chap. (Goes to Eddie. J Eddie. (To Julie j Oh — did you tell him? Julie. Yes — I didn't think it would matter just telling Clarence. Clarence. It doesn't matter, of course — but if there's anything I can do — probably there isn't — maybe I'd better ask him. What do you think? Where is he? Eddie. He's playing cribbage, I think, with Mrs. Wilton. Clarence. Oh — that's fine, isn't it ? I say — what a man he is. I won't disturb them — maybe to-mor- row in his office. Ruined. Cribbage. I must re- member that. Julie. (Crossing to R.j How does your father look, Eddie? Eddie. He looks just the same. Julie. Couldn't I just take a peek at him through the door? Eddie. Well, he is not on exhibition, you know — Still, come along. (Exit Julie and Eddie r.u. j Marguerite. I want to speak to you about some- thing, Clarence. Clarence. May I sit down? It doesn't take me long to get up. Marguerite. I'm not joking now, Clarence. Clarence. (Who has been about to sit down on sofa) Oh — you'd rather I wouldn't? Marguerite. Sit down, of course — (He sits.) A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 49 Having made me a lot of trouble, Clarence, I think you ought to do something about it. Clarence. Why, certainly. What do you want me to do ? Marguerite. George came to-night — Of course I've always felt that I could say anything I like to you, Clarence. Clarence. I've noticed that. Marguerite. You repeated a silly speech I made to you, and George has been here and made an awful scene about it. Clarence. Has he really? Marguerite. Yes — you say things, Clarence, but you never think of the consequences. Clarence. Of course I do — I'm always thinking of them. Marguerite. Why, Clarence Rivers! You in- tended to have George break off our engagement ? Clarence. I hoped he would, of course — but I hardly thought there was much chance, unless I could follow it up in some way. Has he really done that ?— Isn't that splendid ? Marguerite. George thinks now that on account of father, I want to marry him for his money — and perhaps I do. Clarence. Good Lord! If you're going to do that, why not marry me? I've got more than he has. Think it over. Marguerite. Clarence — how can you. Would you be willing to marry anyone who married you for your money? Clarence. Not anyone. But you, yes — for any reason whatever. Of course I wouldn't want you to start divorce proceedings at once — I'd like to have a year or two out of it. Think it over. I'll phone in the morning. ... I think it's a splendid idea — Tve thought so for some time. 50 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY (Enter Julie r.uJ Julie. Come, Clarence. (Clarence up L.j Good-bye, dear. (Up to door.) I'm sure every- thing will be all right. Aren't you, Clarence? Clarence. I'm not sure — but I have hopes. (Exit Julie and Clarence l.u. Enter Wilton R.U.j Marguerite. (Crossing c.) Father, what do you think of Clarence Rivers? Wilton. Why, I don't think of him. Is it necessary to incorporate him in my reflections? Marguerite. I wish you would. Wilton. Well, that's reason enough. But put it off until to-morrow, will you? I'd like to just think of my family to-night. Marguerite. Why, of course, dear, and we want to just think of you; but people keep coming in. Wilton. Yes, people keep coming in. I've no- ticed that — but they're beginning to go out too. I think the tide has turned. (Exit Marguerite r.u. Enter Connors l.u. J Connors. Mr. Wilton, excuse me, sir Wilton, (c.) Oh, Connors, is that you? Connors, (l.c.) Yes, sir. I couldn't help over- hearing what Albertine said to Lizzie. You know Albertine is a great one to listen. Wilton. Yes, is she? Connors. I was afraid something had happened, sir, when the family all stayed home for dinner. Wilton. Yes, that did look pretty bad, didn't it? Connors. If you'll pardon me for saying so, sir — I know all. Wilton. Oh — you know all, do you, Connors ? Connors. Yes, sir. And I want to say, sir, that A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 51 if I can help in any way — besides staying with you, sir — of course I shall do that — and I can valet you, sir — your clothes will be kept as though nothing had happened. Wilton. That's very nice of you, Connors, and be sure to see that my old brown smoking jacket is kept. Connors. Yes, sir — yes, indeed. But — er — I have a little money in the bank, sir — (Taking out bank-book.) Here it is. It might not be any use to you at all, sir, but I would be so glad if it would. . . . Wilton. Why, Connors — I always knew what a dear, faithful fellow you were — but really, this is too much. (He takes the bank-book.) Connors. I'm afraid it's too little, sir. I wish it was more. Wilton. (Opening bank-book) Three thousand dollars — why, that's very good, Connors. You must have been very careful to have saved so much. Connors. (Pleased) Well, you see, sir — I've no one really dependent on me now, sir. My sister's husband has died and she doesn't need any more help. And my father and mother are gone, sir, so I've really no one to look out for. Wilton. No one but me. READY door-bell. Connors. That's right, sir. I've no one but you. Wilton. Well, Connors — I really don't know what to say to you — but I wouldn't have missed this for anything. Connors. The check is inside. I just made it out to you, sir — so there'd be no trouble. Wilton. Well, Connors — I'll just put this in my pocket — and then we'll see how things are. (Puts bank-book in Jus pocket, looking at Connors.) Connors. That's what I hoped, sir. 52 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY Wilton. Perhaps you'd better go now. I'm really afraid you'll make me cry if you go on like this. Connors. That mightn't be a bad idea, sir, let yourself down a bit, sir — if you can. I'm sure we'll weather this storm, Mr. Wilton — and many others like it. DOOR-BELL. Wilton. Yes — yes. Thank you, Connors. (Connors exits l.u. and returns with a box.) Connors, (c.) A box addressed to you, sir, from Vantines. Wilton. (Crossing to Connors c.) I haven't ordered anything. Let's see what it is. (They open the box, disclosing a handsome long dressing gown.) Isn't that a beauty, Connors? It must be for me — don't you think so? Connors. Why, yes, sir. It can't be for any one else. Wilton. No, not as long as this. I think I'll put it on — I can take it off again, you know, if we de- cide that — it isn't for me. Connors. Yes, sir. (Helping Wilton on with dressing-gown.) But after all, one must keep up. appearances, sir, mustn't they? Wilton. Yes, indeed. Connors. And when the shoe pinches, one must step out braver than ever. Oh, Mr. Wilton, sir, it's very becoming. Wilton. Is it really? Connors. Oh, yes, sir — it brings you out, Mr. Wilton. Wilton. Does it — where does it bring me out, Connors ? Connors. Your face, sir. The lines are very good. A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 53 Wilton. The lines of my face? Connors. No — the lines of the garment, sir. Wilton. Oh. (Exit Connors with box l.u. Enter Emmie in a simple evening gown r.v.) Emmie. (Delighted) Harry — it came and you've got it on. Wilton. Why, yes — how nice it is, too. Emmie. It was going to be a present from me. Wilton. Oh! From you? Emmie. Yes, but I don't suppose you can afford it now. Wilton. Well — I can wear it this evening, any- way, can't I? Emmie. Keep it, Harry — what difference does it make — it's charged and we can't pay the bill anyway. Let's sit down, Harry. (They go to fireplace and Wilton sits in chair, Emmie near him.) It's nice to be here. I do get tired sometimes, Harry. Wilton. I should think you would get tired. Emmie. But I know that I ought to go about, for your sake. Wilton. Really. How do you mean, dear? Emmie. Why, a man of your wealth and position, Harry. Of course I knew when I married you how it would be. I can't entertain like Katherine Long- ley — or Mrs. Beverly Weems — because I haven't it in me. Wilton. Haven't what in you? Emmie. Well — it's really a gift, you know. Their houses are more like salons. Wilton. Is that what's the matter with them? Emmie. All / can do is to dress smartly and be seen everywhere. Wilton. Everywhere? No wonder we're ex- hausted. 54 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY Emmie. Of course everyone comes to our house, Harry. But that's on your account Wilton. Does Rafaelo come on my account? Emmie. No, not Rafaelo, but everyone else. Katherine Longley says Fm not the sort of woman to get people together. Of course she's wonderful about that. Wilton. Wonderful about getting them apart, too, perhaps. Emmie. She says I never will be either, that I cannot make myself into anything different from what I am. Wilton. Good ! Fm glad to hear that. But to what do we owe all this singular interest on Kath- erine Longley's part? Emmie. Well, your friends, you know, always tell you things. Wilton. Well, but I didn't realize that she was as friendly as all that. Emmie. Oh, yes. We saw so much of each other at Palm Beach. She used my balcony, you see, be- cause her rooms hadn't any — it was an awful nui- sance, but we got very well acquainted. She en- tertained her friends there and they were very clever and talked so loud that sometimes we were really driven out and would go and sit somewhere else. Wilton. We? Emmie. Yes, Rafaelo and L We spent nearly all our evenings together. Wilton. I didn't know he was down there. Emmie. Oh, yes — he went down because he wanted to paint Katherine's picture. That's the way artists get orders, you know, Harry. They hang around people until some one asks them to paint their wife or dog or something. It's pathetic, isn't it ? Wilton. And did he paint Katherine's picture? Emmie. No — he painted mine as it turned out. A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 55 Wilton. Oh — I see. Emmie. Katherine was terribly obstinate about it — and it was so expensive for poor Rafaelo that I said, don't bother her any more — paint me. Wilton. You didn't mind being bothered. Emmie. No — you see, Rafaelo and I are very much alike, Harry. He isn't deep, you know, and he likes to look at things — I mean the stars and the sea and simple things hke that, without saying any- thing, just as I do. He's not very clever. Of course Katherine's friends are — and we were awfully lonely together when we were with them — so we would go off by ourselves. Wilton. He's a nice fellow, isn't he? I mean respectful and all that. Emmie. Well, no, Harry. You can't expect that of the Latin races, you know. In a way he is — but not as you would be. But they have more feeling than we have, you know — so they would have to have lots more self-control than we do, to act like us. Wilton. But he never did anything that you objected to? Emmie. He would always stop when I told him that I didn't like it. Wilton. Well — I had no idea of all this, really. Emmie. Oh, Harry — if only when we could, you had gone down there with me. Wilton. Really, would you have liked that? READY door-bell. Emmie. Oh, yes — I'd have been so flattered that you'd take time away from business and important things — to go and just be with me. Wilton. Good heavens, why didn't you say so? Emmie. Though you think I don't, Harry, I do notice things. I know that if I were more intelli- gent you would like to talk to me better — and I don't blame you. I'm just nothing at all compared 56 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY with you — I did try to be different, but I don't think you noticed it. Wilton. Did you? Emmie. I read about things I thought you would be interested in and told you about them — but you only went to sleep. There was one thing I remem- ber, about why car wheels squeak going around curves — I thought you being a railroad man would like to hear it — but you went to sleep. Wilton. Why, you dear child! Emmie. I knew you were disappointed in me. Wilton. Disappointed in you? DOOR-BELL rings. Emmie. Katherine Longley told me how it would be, but she was wrong about one thing, Harry. She said I could never hold you for a year, and we've been married two. Wilton. Hold me? Why, my dear, don't you know the question is — can I hold you? (Enter Connors l.u.J Connors. Mr. Rafaelo is calling. Emmie. (Rising and crossing c.) Shall we let him come in just for a minute? Wilton. (Rising) Certainly, if you like. Emmie. I won't if you mind, Harry, but I thought Wilton. Mind? Why should I mind? Do you want me to go out? Emmie. Why, no — I can have him in the music room. No. . . . (Starts up.) No. I won't see him at all, Conners. (Exit Connors l.u. Emmie comes hack, sits on arm of Wilton's chair.) Harry — you know I'm never sleepy — but to-night some- how or other I — I — am — I think perhaps it's being with you. I mean, we're so sort of comfortable and A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 57 quiet here alone together ... do you think it would be all right for me to go to bed? Wilton. I should think it would be the very thing — and I'll tell you — no, I guess you wouldn't like that Emmie. Harry — were you going to say you'd come and read to me? Wilton. But you wouldn't like that, would you? Emmie. It would be perfect, Harry. Wilton. No, we'd better put it off till some other time. You know I'm going to be ruined for several evenings. Emmie. Oh, it's been such a wonderful evening. You know I think being ruined is almost like being drugged — everything seems like a dream. Wilton. What do you know about being drugged? Emmie. Nothing, of course, but what Tve heard. (Goes R.J Marguerite. (Entering) I came to say good- night, Father. Eddie. (Entering in dressing gown) I came to say good-night, Dad. Wilton. Why, how very nice. Just the way you used to when you were kids. Marguerite. Before you were so busy Wilton. And before you were so busy. Eddie. It's a good thing to cut out being busy once in a while. Wilton. I think so too. Eddie. I've done some thinking to-night. Dad. Wilton. Have you really? Eddie. You bet I have — and I'm not through yet. Wilton. Do you think it's a good thing to start in all at once like that ? Eddie. You bet it's a good thing. 58 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY Wilton. Well, all right — then I won^t say any- thing to stop you. Marguerite. I've been thinking, too. But I sup- pose I won't have to if I marry Clarence. Wilton. Clarence? Marguerite. Could you love any one who mar- ried you for your money, Father? Wilton. Why, of course. You can't help lov- ing some people no matter what they do. Marguerite. Clarence doesn't mind. It's really nice of him. When you think of the fuss some people make about it. Wilton. It's not a good idea to marry just for that — ^you'll have time to think it over, won't you ? Marguerite. Oh, yes Wilton. You're very young, you know. Marguerite. That's it, dear — I'd like to marry while I'm young — so that if it's a mistake I can do something about it and still have my life before me. Eddie. To make some more Marguerite. Clarence says if he has two years he'll be satisfied. Well, not exactly satisfied, but thankful. Eddie. Oh, that's ridiculous. Julie and I are go- ing to be married for life. Even if we are miser- able. It's more dignified, I think. Don't you, Father ? Wilton. Well, perhaps it is if you can stand it. Eddie. What's the use just going on marrying one person after another? If Julie isn't the right one, it's a cinch the next will be a flivver. Wilton. She seems to be a very nice girl — and she has money, of course? Eddie. I wouldn't touch it. Besides, I don't think she has very much. Old Uncle Jerry pays the bills, I guess; and he's pretty close. Wilton. Maybe you can get him over that. A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 59 Eddie. If I go in with him, you mean. Well, I've got a few ideas — believe me. Marguerite. I'm sleepy, dear. Eddie. So am I. Wilton. What do you say if we all have break- fast together and talk things over? Eddie. All right, that'll be fine. Good-night, Dad. Marguerite. Good-night, Dad. (Exit Marguerite, Eddie and Emmie r.u. Wil- ton goes up to door zmth them; kisses Emmie, He comes back to fireplace.) Albertine. (Entering L.u.j Excuse me, Mr. Wilton. Can I speak to you for one minute? Wilton. You evidently can, Albertine. Albertine. Mr. Wilton — I — er — I think I can't stay — I mean I mus' go. I think. Wilton, (r. Lighting cigar from taboret) Oh, really ? Have you told Mrs. Wilton ? READY door-hell. Albertine. No — not yet — I Wilton. Well, perhaps it's just as well for you to go, Albertine. Your habit of listening at doors is not a desirable one. I knew a man who tripped over a girl listening at a door once and hurt himself quite badly. Albertine. I don' do eet. An' if you think I make you trouble you are veeree wrong. I could make so much trouble, but always I say "no, I weel not do eet." Wilton. Oh, you could make a lot of trouble if you wanted to, could you ? Albertine. I could — for all the time M'sieu Rafaelo is painting Mrs. Wilton's picture in his studio, I am there and I see — eet ees so plain — but I 6o A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY say nossing — I do not want to make trouble — I like Mrs. Wilton — I like her verree, verree much. I will tell you something Wilton. That's where you make a mistake right at the start. You won't tell me anything. Albertine. There is one thing Monsieur should know DOOR-BELL. Wilton. There's one thing I do know and that is you're going, and as long as you are going, I think I might as well pay you. Albertine. Pay me? Oh, no, please. If you can pay me, I don't want to go'. Wilton. But we can't consult you in the matter. We'll let Mrs. Wilton decide, and meantime try to find some interest in life besides listening at key- holes. Albertine. (Meekly) Very well, Monsieur. (Exits R.U.J Connors. (Entering) It's the man with the tickets for the prize fight, Mr. Wilton — I took the liberty of telHng him that Mr. Eddie has changed his mind about going, sir, but he don't seem incHned to leave. Wilton. I guess the best way to get rid of him is to give him the money for them. Connors. (Doubtfully) Fifty dollars, sir? READY voice. Wilton. (Giving him the money) We can't let him lose it, Connors — so you might as well take the tickets. Connors. Mr. Eddie has gone to bed, sir Wilton. I know it — every one has gone to bed except you and me, Connors. And I feel wide awake and strangely exhilarated. Connors. (Admiringly) Do you, sir? Well, now, that's good. A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 6i Wilton. What would you think, Connors, of our going to the prize fight? Connors. Why, Mr. Wilton, sir Wilton. Do you like to see a fight, Connors? • READY curtain. Connors. Well, sir, I confess that I did, sir, but it*s been so long since I've seen one. I used to get to go in England once in a while to a really fine bout. I saw The Sparrow when he knocked out Hurricane Harry Wells, sir — perhaps you remember reading of it. Hurricane Harry was by rights a heavyweight, sir Wilton. The Sparrow was a featherweight, I take it? Voice. (In hall) Well, what are you going to do about it? Connors. And when the. Hurricane weighed in, sir- Wilton. You'd better pay that man and get the tickets. Connors. Very well, sir. Wilton. Get your coat, Connors, and mine (Connors exits, re-entering with coats and tickets.) What did the man say? Connors. He seemed much relieved, sir. Wilton. So was I — of fifty dollars. (Connors helps Wilton on with coat and hands him the tickets.) Wilton. (Looking at tickets) Having spent a quiet evening at home, we will now see Frederick Ebbets, the Sierra Cyclone, and Billy Huffhauser, the Sledge Hammer of Seattle, fight it out at the Garden. (Exit Wilton and Connors l.u., arm in arm.) CURTAIN ACT II Scene I : The same. At Rise: Pietro discovered sitting in front of the fireplace r. Enter Emmie r.u. carrying jewel case. Pietro. (Rising) Ah — good morning, fair lady. Emmie. Pietro — did you think it perfectly dread- ful of me ? Pietro. Dreadful of you? Emmie. To call you up at such an hour last night. Pietro. I was up — you did not wake me — and if you had — to think that at last you need me — it is splendeed ! Emmie. (Indicating jewel case) I've all m.y jewels in here, Pietro. It seems such a dreadful thing to do — when he gave them to me. Pietro. Dreadful — no, it is life. Let us go- courage ! I have a taxi waiting. Emmie. It seems queer to go in a taxi READY door-hell. Pietro. Yes — but you will get used to eet Marguerite. (Entering r.u.J Oh — good morn- ing, Mr. Rafaelo. Pietro. Ah buon giorno, Signorina. Marguerite. You going out, Sweetie? Emmie. Yes, it's such a heavenly morning, I'm going for a little walk in the Park with Pietro. 62 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 63 Marguerite. Oh. . . . Father's asleep, Sweetie. Don't you think Connors should wake him ? Emmie. No, I don't. Let him sleep. DOOR-BELL. Marguerite. But maybe there's something he ought to attend to down town. Emmie. Why, there isn't anything to attend to. No, dear, at least now that he's ruined he can sleep. (Enter Connors l.u.J Connors. Mr, Struthers and Mr. Rivers call- ing. (Remains r. of l.u.J Emmie. (Going up to l.u.J Come, Pietro. Bye- bye, dear. Marguerite. What shall I say to father. Sweetie, if he asks for you? Emmie. I don't think he will — not if you let him sleep. Pietro. Addio, Signorina. (Emmie and Pietro exit l.u. Connors crosses and stands l.u.e.J Connors. (At'L.v.E.) Which will you see, Miss ? Marguerite. I suppose I may as well see them both, Connors, and get it over with. (Connors exits. Enter George l.u. J George. What's Rivers doing here so early in the morning? Marguerite. Perhaps he came to ask if there was anything he could do for father. George. I'd like to speak to you. Marguerite, for a few minutes if you don't mind. Marguerite. Why should I? I've nothing to 64 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY fear from you now — you've refused to marry me. George. How can you say such terrible things? I suppose you'd go right on saying them after we were married, too. Marguerite. Well, you don't have to worry about that, do you? George. I don't know whether I do or not. Per- haps I was a little hasty last night. I got to think- ing after I left you. Marguerite. You should have begun a little earlier in the evening, George. George. But you'll admit it did look suspicious. Still, if you say that your father's trouble had noth- ing to do with your seeing me, and taking an in- terest in the plans, I'll believe you. Marguerite. But how do I know, George ? Now that you've put the idea in my mind I think you may be right. I certainly want to help father. George. Do you care more for your father than you do for me? Marguerite. Why, George Struthers, don't be ridiculous! Of course I do! No man in the world could be to me what father is. Clarence. (Entering) Does George want to be a father to you? George. Now for some real wit! Marguerite. (Crossing to Clarence, speaking softly) Terrible things have happened this morn- ing. I wish George would go. Clarence. She wishes you'd go, George. Ter- rible things have happened this morning. Maybe you're one of 'em. I don't know. Call around next week when we're more settled, there's a dear old thing! George. I don't appreciate your comedy this morning, Clarence. Clarence. You never do. A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 65 George. V/e were having a little private conver- sation, which if you don't mind we will continue. Clarence. Go ahead — I'd like to hear it. Marguerite. George was trying to find out it" my motives in marrying had become mercenary. Clarence. Of course they have. Why, she's even thinkii.g of marrying me. George. What ! Clarence. When it comes to helping a ruined father, I guess Fm some suitor, too. George. I demand an explanation. Clarence. What kind would you like? George. I want to understand this thing thor- oughly. Clarence. Well, I can explain, but that you'll understand I can't promise, naturally. George. Marguerite, I want to know if there is anything between you and this man. (Crossing to her.) Marguerite. I don't know, George. I almost begin to think there is. George. Since when — if I may ask? Clarence. You may ask — but there doesn't seem to be any answer. Marguerite. Since last night. George. I see. It was the sleeping porch. W^ell —I might have known. "Let him dream on." Clarence. Can't you dream on, on the sleeping porch? What's the matter with it? George. (Accusingly to Marguerite j I suppose you thought I picked out the best rooms for myself. Marguerite. Why, I didn't at all. I never thought of such a thing. But why shouldn't you, George ? George. (Gloomily) And only to think, Hoakum and Birdsall said, when they gave me the plans, this house was to be a real home. 66 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY Clarence. That shows how much they knew about it. Marguerite. The house can be built anyway, George — you'll marry somebody — and then there are all your relatives — who will visit you. Clarence, Yes — perhaps Hoakum and Birdsall have some relatives, too — and there might be little Hoakum and Birdsalis to make it jolly at Christmas. Don't take a gloomy view of it, George. George. Weil, I'll build the house and I'll live in it, and when you think of me in that cold, empty nursery, you'll be sorry. Good-bye. (Exits l.d.) Clarence. (Goes l.c.J How*s your father? Marguerite. Why, he's asleep. READY door-bell. Clarence. Really? Isn't he v/onderful? Crib- bage the first night, and oversleeps the first morn- ing. Simply gorgeous. But he'll make another for- tune in a few minutes. And you won't need me at all. Let's be married at once, to be on the safe side — will you? (Enter Connors r.u., agitated.) Marguerite. What is it, Connors ? Connors. Excuse me, Miss — I'm alarmed about your father. I've tried to wake him and I can't. Marguerite. You can't wake him? Connors. No, Miss. I've sent for Dr. Broodie. Marguerite. Is he coming? % Connors. Yes, Miss ; he says he'll be right over. Clarence. Maybe / could do something. Connors. No, sir. I tried everything, sir. First I spoke — and then I shook him a little — and then I — I was quite rough with him. (Bell rings.) And I put cold water to his head — but he never moved. (Exit Connors l.u. hurriedly.) A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 67 Marguerite. Oh, Clarence — I'm afraid! Clarence. No — no — don't be. I'm sure it's noth- ing. They have a terrible time with me every morn- ing. (Enter Dr. Broodie l.u. down.) Broodie. What's all this about your father over- sleeping, Marguerite? Marguerite. Oh, I'm so worried. Doctor Broodie. Broodie. Now, now, don't worry. I'll just wake him right up and ask him about it. (Exits r.u. up- stairs.) Marguerite. I must go to him, Clarence. (Exits R.V., upstairs.) (Enter Albertine l.u.J Albertine. Oh, mon Dieu, this is terrible Clarence. There, Albertine — don't get excited about it — the doctor's here . . . Albertine. Doctor? What is that to me? — I will be accused of it — I know I will. Clarence. Accused of what? Albertine. Madame, she is gone and leave all the suspicions to me. ... I always am good as I know how — I never do anything wrong — and now look how I find myself . . . Clarence. What are you talking about, Alber- tine? Albertine. Madame Weelton go away with M'sieu Rafaelo and take all her jewels — yes — she do not come back. I know it — an' leave all the suspi- cions to me. Clarence. My poor girl, you're raving. Albertine. Raving! Madame act very strange all the morning — she hope Mr. Weelton do not wake 68 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY up before she get away. She ask for the jewels — et je lui ai demande — "Vous porter ies bijoux ce matin?" Madame ne responds pas elle me regarde un moment comme ca et puis elle jette a Ies bijoux dans la boite. Clarence. Mais, er — explique — explique in Eng- lish, Albertine Albertine. Et moi ! Oh, que je suis mal- heureuse. Tous, tous Ies bijoux sont parti Clarence. Mais explique — explique, Albertine. lis appartiennent a Madame n'est ce pas? Why shouldn't she take them if she wants to? Where do you think she's gone ? Albertine. Oh, mon Dieu, I don't know. Mais je suis bien sure qu'elle ne reviendra jamais. Clarence. Ridiculous — of course she'll return — you're getting up a lot of excitement over nothing, Albertine. I'm surprised at you. Albertine. Parti — parti avec M'sieu Rafaelo — ells ne retournera jamais — pauvre M'sieu Weelton ! (Enter Dr. Broodie r.u. downstairs with glass. Exit Albertine r.u.J Broodie. W^hat's the matter with her? Clarence. She's just a little worried in French about Mr. Wilton. How is he, Doctor? Broodie. Oh, he's all right — that is, he will be in an hour or two. He's a bit dazed. Do you hap- pen to know, Clarence, if he was worried about any- thing last night? Clarence. Why, yes — I believe he was. Some business trouble — I don't know the particulars. Broodie. Oh — was it anything serious? Clarence. Well — rather — yes, I believe it was. Broodie. Ah — that would account for it. I — er — I found this glass by his bed — containing a very A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 69 strong solution of a certain drug — only a few drops remained in the glass. (Puts glass on table c.) Clarence. Good Heavens ! Do you think he tried to Broodie. It looks like it. He doesn't remember doing it — but then, he doesn't remember anything that he did last night. The effect of the drug will wear oflf during the day. I have Connors walking him up and down the hall — he must move about for a little and I don't want him left alone. Are you going to be here? Clarence. I'll stay, of course. (Enter Wilton, Connors and Marguerite r.u.J Wilton. I can walk all right, Connors — if you can. Now suppose I sit down. Broodie. (Crossing to WiltonJ No, no, Mr. Wilton — you can't sit down. Wilton. Oh yes, I can sit down. Marguerite. Are you all right, Father? Do you think you ought to be here? Wilton. I don't think I am. Not all here. Broodie, I am trying to remember all those things you told me to, about last night. I can't seem to think of any of them, except I remember talking to Mrs. W^ilton in her room, and I think she gave me a glass of water. Broodie. Ah, yes. I dare say. It's not at all uncommon. Wilton. What isn't? Broodie, Connecting some person who was not present with the act. But don't worry, Mr. Wilton. Keep the mind active, but think of trivial things, if possible. And — er — just walk, Mr. Wilton — we will just walk together as we are talking. 70 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY (Broodie walks Wilton across stage l. and back again R. Wilton stops r.c.) Wilton. Haven't you any patients who are ill to see this morning? Broodie. None that my assistant cannot attend to, Mr. Wilton — he is quite competent. Wilton. What's your assistant's name ? I want to send for him. Broodie. (Walking Wilton up stage and across to R.) Walking this way tends to keep up the cir- culation. Wilton. Well, you keep up your circulation. You walk all you like. Broodie. And afterwards I should recommend a complete rest, Mr. Wilton. Wilton. I'd like to have the rest now. Broodie. Now, I know a nice, quiet place — I should really like to go there myself. Wilton. Well, why don't you — ^they'll be glad to see you. (Goes to cigar case and takes out large black cigar.) Broodie. Don't, Mr. Wilton — you couldn't do anything worse. Why, a cigar like that would put me out of business. Wilton. (Holding box toward him) Would it? Have one. Broodie. No, no, thank you. Now tell me, how about the head? Wilton. What head? Broodie. Your head. Can you turn it from side to side? Wilton. I could if I wanted to. (He takes cigar and lights it.) Broodie. No, Mr. Wilton. (Takes cigar out of WiLTON^s hand and throws it in fireplace and crosses to R.) A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 71 Wilton. Really, Broodie, I think you ought to go to that quiet place you spoke of. (To Connors up c.) Connors, where's Mrs. Wilton? Connors. She had her breakfast early, Mr. Wil- ton — and went out. Wilton. Oh ! I'll have my breakfast and go out. Connors. I'll serve it at once. Mr. Wilton, in the breakfast room. (To Doctorj Will eggs be all right, Doctor? Wilton. How does the doctor know whether the eggs will be all right or not? Broodie. Vd suggest a light breakfast, Mr. Wil- ton. You see, you are in a weakened condition and naturally the gastric juices recover slowly from a shock of this kind. Sometimes it's a matter of years. Wilton. Well, perhaps you'd better not wait, then. Doctor. Marguerite. After you've had your breakfast, you'll lie down, won't you, dear? Wilton. Lie down? Certainly not. When I just had all this trouble getting up? Besides, I must get down to the office. Marguerite. What for? Wilton. What for? What do I usually go downtown for? To attend to business. Marguerite. You haven't forgotten, have you, dear? Wilton, Forgotten what? (Sits c.) (Doctor sits in chair r.c.) Marguerite. What you told us last night? Wilton. I guess I have — I don't remember tell- ing you anything last night. Where did I go last night, Connors? Connors. Why, you dined at home, sir — and 72 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY spent quite an evening at home — most of the evening, I might say, sir — you played cribbage with Mrs. Wilton. Wilton. Did I really? Well, that must have been very pleasant. And then what? Connors. And then, sir, Mrs. Wilton retired early, sir. Wilton. And did I retire early ? Connors. No, sir — you — that is to say — we Do you really want me to tell what we did, sir? Wilton. Why, yes — if it's not too disgraceful. Connors. Why, we went to the prize fight, sir. Wilton. What? Connors. To see the Sledgehammer of Seattle knock out the Sierra Cyclone, sir. Marguerite. Father ! Wilton. That's just what I was going to say. Did I enjoy the fight, Connors? Connors. Oh, yes, sir. We had a splendid time. You seemed to forget everything, sir. Wilton. That seems to be the best thing I do. Marguerite. You weren't yourself. Father, or you wouldn't have gone. Wilton. How do you mean, I wasn't myself? Marguerite. I can't bear to tell you, dear Wilton. Why, yes — ^you must. What is it? Marguerite. It's as hard for me to tell you as it was for you to tell us. Wilton. What did I tell u^f Marguerite. That you're ruined, dear. Don't feel too dreadfully about it. Wilton. Ruined? How ridiculous! Marguerite. No, dear — it isn't — it's true. Wilton. Did I really say that? Marguerite Yes. It's true, isn't it, Connors? Connors. Yes, Miss. That was why we went to the prize fight, sir. To cheer you up. A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 73 Wilton. I must have some reason for saying such a thing. Why, it is inconceivable that there could be anything wrong. Ruined and going to a prize fight ! I ask you, Broodie Broodie. Well, such things do occur. Don't you remember the famous Hotaling and Higginson fail- ure ? Higginson was found at the circus, you know, with a bag of peanuts and a glass of red lemonade — just as though nothing had happened. Wilton. Well, but Higginson is in an insane asylum ! Broodie. Yes, I know, but that doesn't necessarily follow. Wilton. Well, really — I'll telephone to the office. Connors. Mr. Belden has been on the phone, sir, and he's on his way up here. Wilton. Did he seem disturbed, Connors? Connors. Why yes, sir, a little. Broodie. Don't you be disturbed about anything, Mr. Wilton. Take everything easily, that's the main thing — and don't anticipate anything but good news until you see Mr. Belden. Wilton. Oh, you think Belden is coming to bring me good news ? Broodie. Well, you might as well think that way until he comes. Wilton. I see, so as to get the benefit of the shock. Connors, see if Mrs. Wilton is dressed. Oh ! I forgot, you said she had gone out. Broodie. Sometimes a light novel at a moment like this. Do you think you could read ? Wilton. Read? Why, of course I can read, if I haven't forgotten how. Broodie. Well, I would suggest something of Emily Braddon's, for instance, if you have it — some- thing very light. Wilton. Why not make it something heavy. 74 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY then I could throw it at some one. Oh, I can see so clearly now how people go crazy. Broodie. No, don't, Mr. Wilton, have my breakfast. (Softly to Connors. j I'd rather take a chance with almost any ^gg than that doctor! (Exits r.u., followed by Connors. j Broodie. (To Marguerite^ I'll go back to my office for about an hour, then I'll come back. Marguerite. Do you feel alarmed about him, Doctor ? Broodie. Oh, no, no ; but I want to keep my eye on him. Marguerite. Oh, of course. Well, good-bye, Doctor, for a little while. Broodie. Good morning. (Exits l.u. Meets Eddie in hallway.) Eddie. Hello, Doc. Broodie. (In hallway) Good morning, young man. Clarence, (i..) He does seem dazed, doesn't he ? Marguerite. (Crosses l. to ClarenceJ Sweetie ought to be here. I don't see how she can stay away like this. (Enter Eddie l.u.j Eddie, where have you been ? Eddie. I've been to the office. Marguerite. Father's office? Eddie. No — Partington's office. I've gone to work. Marguerite. Just the one morning you could have been of some use at home. Eddie. Why — what's the matter? Marguerite. Father's overslept, for one thing — and it had a terrible effect on him — he forgot all about everything — he forgot that he was ruined, and I had to tell him. Eddie. What ! You mean to say he forgot that he'd gone up? A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 75 Marguerite. Yes. Eddie. No one down town seemed to know it until I told them. Clarence, (u Who has been thoughtful) Tell me (To MargueriteJ Do you happen to know where Mrs. Wilton has gone? Marguerite, (^l.c.j Yes — for a stroll in the Park with Rafaelo — she's feeding the squirrels, while father's ruined. . . . Clarence. Oh — but they went in a taxi. Marguerite. A taxi? Clarence. But why shouldn't they? Marguerite. But why should they? Sweetie •^said she was going for a stroll — and she never rides in a taxi. Clarence. Well — I — er — there's something per- haps I ought to tell you — there isn't a word of truth in it. . . . (Hesitates.) Eddie. Well, go ahead — that ought to be easy for you. Clarence. Well, it's just that Albertine has been telling me that Mrs. Wilton has taken all her jewels and gone off with Rafaelo. Marguerite. How awful to say such things ! Clarence. I think Albertine should be spoken to. It's perfectly ridiculous, of course — ^but you don't want her saying those things to callers — exactly. Marguerite. But wouldn't it be terrible if it was true? Clarence. Don't be foolish. Eddie. It's easy enough to look and see if they're gone. (Starts up R.j Clarence. Wait — ^there's something else — I want you to be very nice to your father. Marguerite. Why, Clarence Rivers ! Clarence. Well — because Dr. Broodie seems to -je A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY think the poor, dear, wonderful man just tried to end everything last night. Eddie. I don't believe it — father's not that sort. Marguerite. I should say not ! Father despises men who fail — and kill themselves just when their families need money. Clarence. (Crosses to table) Well — Dr. Broodie found this glass by his bed with a drug in it. Marguerite, (c.) This glass? (Taking it.) Why, Eddie — it's Sweetie's glass — from the amber set we gave her ! Eddie. Smells Hke perfume. Marguerite. Father said he remembered Sweetie giving him a glass of water How terrible ! This is evidence, Eddie. Perhaps you'd better take it. (Holding out glass.) Eddie. I don't want to hold it. Set it down somewhere. Marguerite. If Albertine g 's it, she'll tell all the servants. Eddie. Why not break it? Marguerite. It would be fc . We don't want to have everyone know that .^ i to poison him, do we? Eddie. No — just a few friends, I should think. Marguerite. It's so hard to know what to do, Eddie. Eddie. I really think we ought to tell him. He's got to be told. Marguerite. Sh ! (Puts glass on table.) (Wilton and Connors enter.) Eddie. Well, Father, how are you this morning? Wilton. Well, I'm recovering from a prize fight, a dose of poison and a few little things like that. How are you? A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 'j'j Eddie. I'm going to make you proud of me yet, Father. Maybe this has all happened just to bring me out. Wilton. Oh, really? Do you think there's a chance of that? Eddie. I've been at old Partington's office and — er — I think I'm going to do a lot there, Father. I think old Partington himself will be surprised. Wilton. I daresay. Eddie. I'm going to get him interested in golf, for one thing. He needs fresh air. I talked to him about it, until he left his office to speak to somebody. Wilton. Had some business to attend to, per- haps. Eddie. Perhaps. Well, then I opened all the windows. I tell you the air was stifling, Father. The whole place needs ventilation. I don't see how people work in such an atmosphere. READY door-bell. Wilton. Opened the windows, did you ? Do you occupy the position of window-cleaner down there? That's a dangerous pursuit, and I don't care to have you do it. Eddie. Marguerite says you've forgotten all about last night, Dad. I wish you would just forget it — for I'm going to be able to take care of us all Wilton. I am hazy about last night, Eddie. But I think there must be some mistake. Belden will be here directly and then I'll know what it's all about. (Starts up R. as Connors enters.) Marguerite. Where are you going, dear? Wilton. I thought I'd better not go down town in this (Points to smoking jacket.) Marguerite. Let Connors go with you, dear. Wilton. Nonsense! Connors, just watch these people, particularly Mr. Eddie! Don't let him get near any of the windows. 78 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY (Exit Wilton r.u. Door-bell. Connors exits l.uJ Marguerite. Eddie, why didn't you tell him? Eddie. Oh, I couldn't. I'll just have a look around upstairs first. (Exits r.u. upstairs.) Marguerite. Now we must decide what to do, Clarence. I thought Eddie would tell him. (Crosses to Clarence l.) Clarence. Well, why not wait and see what hap- pens? Marguerite. Oh ! Do you think anything more is going to happen? (Connors and Belden appear at l.u. in hallway.) Connors. If you will wait a moment, sir, Mr. Wilton will see you. Belden. Please, as quickly as possible. (Connors crosses r.u. Enter Belden l.u. He comes down stage r. and paces excitedly from L. to R. and back. As he reaches l.c. Mar- guerite speaks) Marguerite. Good morning, Mr. Belden. Belden. (Continuing his walk) Good morning. (Goes L., turns and stops l.c. on way back.) What's all this I hear about your father? Marguerite. What have you heard, Mr. Bel- den. Belden. Good Heavens — what haven't I heard! (Resumes walking.) Clarence. Do you think we're in his way? Marguerite. Yes. I think we'd better go, Clar- ence. Clarence. Now's our chance. (Exit Clarence and Marguerite l.u. Wilton A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 79 enters r.u. Stands in doorway, watching Bel- den, who is still walking up and down.) Wilton. My God, John, have they got you walking, too? Belden. (Stops c.) Walking? Wilton. (Coming down r.c.) I hope you don*t object to my smoking, John. I had a terrible time to light this cigar — had to go out in the street to do it. Belden. Good Heavens, Henry, what is all this ? Wilton. Have you noticed it, too? Belden. Noticed what? Wilton. The family. I can't imagine what's the matter with them all. Belden. No, no, about you — us ! Do you realize that they are circulating a report that you are ruined, down on the Street ? Wilton. They're circulating it up here, too. Do you think there's anything in it, Belden? Belden. Henry, you astonish me. Wilton. Who's doing it? Belden. It started in Partington's office. And 1 understand that Eddie is responsible for it. Wilton. Eddie? Belden. He had a talk with Partington, and as the result of it, Partington threw all his B. & D. stock on the market. I bought it, of course, at a ridiculous figure. I knew there was nothing wrong. We must have cleared up eight million dollars this morning. Wilton. Good Heavens ! Well — I don't see what we can do about it, Belden. Then we're not ruined ? Belden. Ruined ? I should say not. People will be surprised, Henry — Wilton and Belden making money in any such way as this. Wilton, No more surprised than we are. 8o A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY Belden. Why, they couldn't do anything with Partington. He acted like a maniac. (Crosses r.c.J Wilton. That's nothing unusual for him. Belden. Lwas amazed that he held so much of the stock. He might have pushed us pretty hard for the control — if it had happened in any other way I would be very much elated, Henry, but it*s really as near dishonor as / care to come. Wilton. Well, it's near Partington — that's why. Belden. I'm afraid we ought to keep Eddie out of business, Henry. Wilton. Well, he can retire now. I suppose he'll get a percentage of the eight million. But what could he have said . . . ? Belden. Why, he went down there to get a po- sition. That in itself looked suspicious. And then I understand that there was something about his supporting the family and so on. Wilton. Wait a minute. Sit down, John. (Bel- den sits R.c. on ottoman. Wilton sits.) It's com- ing back to me now, about last night. I'm begin- ning to remember the whole thing. I did — I said — I said — I was ruined. Belden. What! You said you were ruined? Wilton. It's all my fault, John. It was all on account of song recitals, teas, pajamas Belden. What's wrong with you, Henry? Wilton. It all started with Connors, because you see "the poor don't get to go very often." I was very tired and I wanted to spend a quiet evening at home, so I said I was ruined and went to a prize fight. Belden. Have you seen a doctor, Henry? Wilton. Have I seen a doctor? I should say I have. Why, he woke me up, took my cigar away from me, then he walked me up and down this room for miles, and during the excursion he spoke in the most alluring terms of lunatic asylums. You see, A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 8i when I went to bed, I was thirsty and I took a drink of poison. Belden. What? Wilton. That's what the doctor said. Don't be alarmed, Belden, I don't make a general practice of it. Belden. But, Henry, you can't mean Wilton. Of course — that's why I overslept this morning. At least that's what they say. But, Bel- den, it's worth it all, really. Belden. You mean you made eight million dol- lars by it? Wilton. I mean the way they rallied 'round me — that was why I kept it up. Why, look at this! (Takes out Connors' hank-book.) My old butler offered me all his savings. Belden. Oh, we made more than eight million — Wilton. And every one of my family, instead of reproaching me Belden, why, it was beau- tiful. We all sat around the fire and everybody went to sleep. It was the happiest — that is, under the circumstances Belden. It's all a puzzle to me. You told them you were ruined? Wilton. Yes, I wanted to spend the evening at home and I wanted them, to stay with me. Belden. Well, why didn't you ask them to? Wilton. Well, I didn't like to do that. Belden. Aren't you the master of your own house ? Wilton. I suppose I am, but the house was go- ing to be here anyhow. You can't be the master of the people in a house, Belden, if they're any good. You know that. Belden. But don't they consider your wishes? Wilton. Maybe they do — consider them ridicu- lous. I don't know. 82 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY Belden. Well (Rises.) I should try to think of some other way to keep my family at home, Henry. I really should. It might not always turn out so well. Wilton. I'll consider what you say, John. It sounds as if there was something in it, and I'll be down a little later. Belden. All right, Henry. You are full of sur- prises — but, after all, that is what has made Wilton and Belden. Oh — er — if Eddie goes into business with anybody — perhaps it had better be with us. Wilton. Yes, I'll speak to him about that. I'm sorry you had all that worry, John, and I want to tell you I feel just as badly as you do about that eight million. (Marguerite and Clarence enter l.u. Come down L.J Belden. (To MargueriteJ I feel better now that I've had a talk with your father. Marguerite. I'm so glad of that, Mr. Belden. Belden. Are you going, Mr. Rivers? If so, we'll just walk along together. Clarence. Thanks. No, I don't believe I could keep up with you ! Belden. All right, then. Bye-bye — see you later, Henry. (Exits l.u.J Clarence. (Crossing to Wilton j Good morn- ing, Mr. Wilton. I heard — how things were last night, and I just want to say that I think you're play- ing cribbage with Mrs. Wilton was one of the bravest things I ever heard of. Wilton. Really? She doesn't play — very well. Clarence. With all your own trouble, I hate to inflict any of mine on you, but I — er — I want very much to marry Marguerite, if you don't object. A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 83 Wilton. Well, but I thought she was going to marry some one else. (Crossing l. to Marguerite^ Or are you going to marry George first — or what is the arrangement? Marguerite. I zvas going to marry George, dear, but that was last night. Wilton. Early in the evening. Marguerite. Later, I decided to marry Clar- ence. Wilton. You're not marrying Clarence on my account, are you ? Marguerite. Not entirely. Clarence. Isn't that ripping! Well, now, that's disposed of, Mr. Wilton, I want you to treat me like a son. Wilton. I'm afraid I can't afford it. I've got one son running around somewhere. Clarence. I told Webb of our offtce that any- thing we have that will be of use to you is at your disposal, including the doorplate. Webb, you know, is very quiet. Wilton. That's very good of you, but it won't be necessary. Belden has been here and everything is going to be all right. Marguerite. Father — not really! Wilton. Oh, yes — and I — er — I feel disturbed about Emmie, Marguerite. Did you see her before she went out? Was she worried? Of course she must have been. Marguerite. Oh, Father dear — yes, I did see her. Wilton. What is it ? Marguerite. (Crossing r.) Oh, darling, I can't bear to tell you. If you don't want me to, I won't marry anybody — I'll always stay with you — to make up for it. 84 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY (Eddie enters l.u.) Wilton. (To ClarenceJ Do you know what she means? Clarence. Why, yes — I think it's absurd. Wilton. Go on — tell me. Clarence. She thinks that Mrs. Wilton has gone, you see- WiLTON. Gone where? Marguerite. She has gone, dear — she went away with Rafaelo this morning quite early — and took all her jewels. (Crosses up.) Eddie. (Coming down) Never mind. Dad. Wilton. Impossible! (Connors enters r.uJ Wilton. Connors, I want to see Albertine. Connors. She's gone, sir. Wilton. Gone? Connors. Yes, sir. She left shortly after Mrs. Wilton went out, sir. She had Mrs. Wilton's rough coat, and two suitcases. She called a cab and never said a word to anybody. Wilton. Who brought down the suitcases for her? Connors. Nagakura. Wilton. See if he heard where the cab man was told to drive. Connors. He did, sir — he said it was to some boat. Wilton. Get me a newspaper. Clarence. (Gets paper from table) Here you are— shall I look, Mr. Wilton? Wilton. Yes — please. Clarence. (Reading nervously) Help — help A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 85 wanted — boats — navigation — Norwich Line — 3 North River. Eddie. (Crossing to Clarence. Looking in pa- per) There you are — the Italia — sailing at noon. Wilton. I want the car at once, Connors. (Connors exits l.uJ Marguerite. (Crossing to Wilton r.cJ Father — you're not going after her? How can you, after what she did? You said yourself Wilton. What did I say? Marguerite. She gave you that drug, darling — READY curtain. Wilton. No, no — you misunderstood me. Marguerite. And I found the glass. It's her glass — from the amber set we gave her. You shan't go, Father. Clarence. Can I do anything? Wilton. Yes — see if you can find them. She must know that I'm not ruined — and that she can draw on me for whatever she needs. Clarence. You don't want me to bring her back, then? (Starts up l.) Wilton. What would be the use? Just wait a moment. (Goes to desk.) (As Wilton writes, Marguerite joins Clarence L.C.j Clarence. (To Marguerite^ I hope I'll behave as well as that when you run off with some one. Eddie. He's all broken up. Just imagine her go- ing off with that crazy Italian. Connors. (Entering l.v.) The car, Mr. Wilton. 86 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY fWiLTON gives letter to Clarence, who hurries out L.U.J Wilton, (c.) I wish I hadn't waked up, really. CURTAIN ACT II Scene 2: The Same. At Rise: Discovered: Eddie, Marguerite and Julie. After a pause: Eddie. What's he doing now ? Marguerite. He's in her room. Dr. Broodie is with him. Julie. Do you mind if I stay, Marguerite, until Clarence comes ? Marguerite. No, dear — you don't mind our not talking ? READY auto. Julie. Oh, no — though it does seem just like a funeral. Eddie. Well, it is — in a way. Julie. Do you feel just terribly, Marguerite? Marguerite. Why, of course. We'd gotten used to Sweetie. She was really almost like one of the family — wasn't she, Eddie ? Eddie. Yes — she was a nice stepmother. But we didn't bring her up right. Marguerite. Now, after father gets over this — if he does — we may have the whole thing to go through again. Everyone wants to marry father, you know. Just suppose Katherine Longley should decide to, Eddie. 87 S8 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY Julie. But she is married. Marguerite. I know, but if she decided to she would, some way. AUTO. Eddie. There's the car now. Marguerite. It's Clarence. (Exits l.v.) Julie. (Going to Eddie, who is r.J I haven't told you the dreadful thing that's happened to me. Eddie. What is it, Julie? Julie. Uncle Jerry says that if I marry you now, he'll cut me off in his will. Eddie. Because he lost some money — ^that wasn't my fault. I didn't know that my going- to work would create a panic on the Street. Julie. It wasn't so much that as your opening the windows in his office. He came home and had a chill, and made us all stand around his bedside while he recited things from the Bible, and then he told me about his will. Eddie. Never mind, dear. We don't need any one's money — we'll have our own — father won't be mean. (Enter Clarence and Marguerite l.uJ Clarence. Well — I found them. Eddie, (r. of c.) What did she say ? Clarence. I only saw Albertine. She made all sorts of excuses — and then she broke into French and so did I, and after that we neither of us under- stood each other. But what she said sounded per- fectly terrible. Eddie. What's that? A letter for father? Clarence. No — it's the same letter. Returned with thanks. Albertine dashed off with it and brought it back. A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 89 (Enter Wilton and Doctor Broodie r.uJ Wilton. Did you find Mrs. Wilton? Clarence. No — I saw Albertine. She took the letter to Mrs. Wilton, and here it is. (Gives letter to Wilton. j Wilton. Oh! She has sent it back. I see! I see! (Enter Emmie hurriedly l.u. j Emmie. Oh, Harry — such a dreadful thing has happened. You must do something about it quickly — Pietro has been arrested. Wilton. (Dazed) And you — you Ve come back ? Emmie. Yes — he has all the money and the tick- ets, Harry. Do you think they will take them away from him in the station house? Oh, dear — just when I thought I had everything arranged so beau- tifully. Eddie. Good Lord ! Wilton. Now tell me — tell me all about it — and don't be afraid. Emmie. But how can I help it, Harry — when I think of Pietro — and all because he was so kind- hearted. Wilton. Oh — he was kind-hearted, was he? Emmie. Yes — ^you see, the traffic policeman was very angry with the driver at that place where you must go round the block and come back where you started — and he pulled his arm and the man lost his balance and fell, and Pietro jumped out of the cab and hit the policeman. Wilton. But where, where? Emmie. Right in the face, Harry. Wilton. Did you get off the boat? Was this after or before, or what? 90 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY Emmie. Off the boat! It was a cab. Harry — this was just after we had been to LTpdejohn's and he had given us the money for the jewels. Wilton. Was this on your way to the boat? Why, no, it couldn't have been. Emmie. Harry — what is it — Harry, are you ill? Marguerite. Of course he is — and you shan't excite him like this. Wilton. Yes, yes — I want to be excited — I want to understand. Emmie. Marguerite, why do you look at me like that? Don't let her look at me like that, Harry. Wilton. No — no — don't look at her, Marguerite — let her explain. Marguerite. (Taking glass from table) Yes — let her explain this. That dreadful drug you gave my dear father — do you deny that you gave it to him? Emmie. No, of course not. Marguerite. Then you don't deny it ? Wilton. Please, Marguerite, please go away. All of you, please go away, if you don't mind. (Exit Marguerite, Eddie, Clarence and Julie R.U.j Emmie, (c) Did it hurt you, Harry? Wilton. (^l.cJ Why, I couldn't wake up this morning — that's all. Emmie. But, Harry — I only gave you what I take. Wilton. What you take! Emmie. Yes — why, yes, Harry — but I'm used to it, you see. Wilton. You're used to it! Emmie. (Turning to Dr. Broodie r.c.j Tell A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 91 him not to be worried, Dr. Broodie. Dr. Broodie gives it to me. Broodie. But, my dear, not in any such quantity « — how much are you taking? Emmie, (c.) Why, I don't measure it any more. I just pour in what I think is right. Wilton. Good Heavens, Broodie! Broodie. You don't understand the situation, Mr. Wilton. Wilton. No, I don't — I want you to explain it to me. Broodie. There's nothing to be worried about, Mr. Wilton. What can a doctor do ? Women clam- oring for help get on his nerves. Wilton. Then take something yourself, so you can't hear them — but don't — don't Emmie. Don't scold Dr. Broodie, Harry. And don't think that I have any habit — or anything like that. I never take it without deciding first that I could stop if I wanted to. Broodie. The society women of to-day are very nervous, Mr. Wilton. They try to do more than their vitality permits. They are high-strung, and if we didn't give them something to soothe them Wilton. They might amount to something. Broodie. No, Mr. Wilton. As a physician I pro- test that there is a place for drugs. I believe in them, properly administered. Wilton. So do L And the deadlier — the better, but give them to the right people. Emmie. Oh — do call up the police station, Harry — and get Pietro out. Broodie. Well, I don't think you'll need me any longer Wilton. No, I don't think we will. (Exit Broodie, l.u.j 92 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY Emmie. Do you think anything dreadful will happen to Pietro, Harry ? Wilton. Not while he stays in the police sta- tion. Why did you want me to sleep this morning? Emmie. I didn't. I wanted you to sleep last night. When you came into my room last night, you seemed so nervous, Harry. I knew you had been sitting by the fire and thinking, and when you were going to get a glass of water, I gave you what was in my glass. That was all. Wilton. But why didn't you tell me? Emmie. I was afraid you wouldn't take it, Harry, and I knew it would do you so much good. (PiETRo's voice is heard in the hall L.u.J Pietro. Mrs. Weelton — she is here? Emmie, ("l. of Wilton, who is c.) Oh — it's Pietro. (Runs out into hallway. Returns immedi- ately with roll of hills. Enter Pietro.j Harry — look ! Six thousand dollars, and I could have gotten lots more — but I wanted to consult you about it. Pietro. Good morning, Meester Weelton — I have been arrest in the police station — such a time — please excuse the delay. Emmie. I took Pietro with me, Harry, because he knows the man who runs the place awfully well — such a nice man, Harry. He just takes everything you've got and gives you money for it — then lets you have it back for a few cents. Wilton. Why, you dear child — you've been pawning your jewels for me? Emmie. Your jewels, Harry — you gave them all to me — and that was why I stopped. I thought there might be something you liked to see me wear. Is — is anything the matter, Harry ? I mean anything more than — just everything? A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 93 Wilton. No — that's all. Just everything. . . . PiETRO. Meester Weelton, please — let me extend the hand of sympathy (Extending both hands.) Wilton. Certainly — which one is it? But if you refer to the business difficulty, that has all been fixed up. Emmie. Fixed up, Harry? Wilton. Yes — everything is all right. PiETRO. Then you are not rueened ? Splendeed ! Not rueened ! Emmie. Not ruined, Harry — you don't really mean that you're not ruined? PiETRO. Not rueened! Wilton. Don't keep saying it in concert, both of you — will you? Emmie. No — but not ruined! PiETRO. I am so happy for you, Meester Weelton. Wilton. Yes — yes — I'm sure you are — and I must thank you for all the trouble you went to in my behalf — the getting arrested and everything. Pietro. Oh, it was a great pleasure, Mr. Weelton. I hope you do not regret too much that Mrs. Weel- ton make the acquaintance of Meester Updejohn. Wilton. No, no. It's convenient at times to have a friend like Updejohn. Pietro. I find eet ees. And now I will say good- bye, Meester Welton. (Shakes hands.) Not rueened ! Good-bye, fair lady. (Kisses Emmie's hand and exits L.U.J Emmie. Harry — isn't it absurd — but you know, I'm a little disappointed that everything is all right. Wilton. W>11, we must try to make the best of it. Emmie. I saw such pretty chintz in a window — it would look ridiculous in this house — but it would have been so sweet in the abandoned farm. Wilton, (r. of t.) Well, we'll have it. We can 94 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY afford it now — ^you know it takes more money to run an abandoned farm than any other kind. Emmie. (Turns to table, looking at letter) Is this letter for me, Harry? Wilton. It was — ^yes. Emmie. Let me see. (She takes the letter and reads it.) What does it mean, Harry? Wilton. It doesn't mean anything. They told me you had gone away with Rafaelo — think of my believing it. But you are both so young and it is such a beautiful morning Emmie. Leave you for Rafaelo? Why, I wouldn't leave you for anyone, Harry, especially when you're in trouble ! Wilton. I must manage to keep in trouble all the time. Emmie. (Reading) "Oh, my dear, if you ever regret, come back to me." What a wonderful love letter, Harry ! Wilton. Is it? Emmie. Oh, yes — may I have it? Who opened it, Harry? Wilton. Albertine. She went off with your steamer coat — they said, and all the trunks and hat boxes in the house. Emmie. I gave her the coat, Harry. It was wear- ing a little and I didn't know we were going to be ruined. Where has she gone? Wilton. I don't know, dear. Very likely she hasn't gone anywhere. She's probably upstairs. You can't believe anything people say. Emmie. She was going to Norwich to-day. Her sister has a new baby and I told Albertine she could go. Wilton. Norwich ! Clarence Rivers went to the wrong pier. He would, of course A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY 95 (Connors enters l.uJ READY curtain. Connors. Excuse me, sir. Mr. Rafaelo forgot to give you these. (Gives pawn tickets to Wilton. J Emmie. Oh, the tickets from Updejohn's. Wilton. Oh — yes, Updejohn's. Oh, Connors — one moment. Just a matter of business. I want to give you back your bank-book. Connors. (Hesitating) And is it true, sir, that everything is all right again? Wilton. Yes, yes, Connors — it's even more than that. Connors. I'm so glad, sir. Wilton. I know you are, and I can't tell you how I appreciate all you did. I wouldn't have missed it for the world. Connors. (Looking in bank book) But Mr. Wil- ton, there's some mistake, sir. I didn't have six thousand dollars in the bank. Wilton. Well, you see it was for safety. Connors. Safety, sir? Wilton. Yes — so that you'll have all the more to rescue me with should another calamity overtake me. Connors. Oh, Mr. Wilton, how good you are, sir, and what a happy day. And only to think how it started. Wilton. I'd rather not, Connors, if you don't mind. (Exit Connors.J Emmie. You forgave me, Harry! Oh, it's won- derful to be forgiven, even if you haven't done any- thing. Wilton. I'd like to be forgiven, too. if you don't mind. Emmie. I'm so happy, Harry. But of course happiness isn't everything. 96 A SUCCESSFUL CALAMITY Wilton. What is? Emmie. I don't know Wilton. Well, I don't. Let's let it go at hap- piness. CURTAIN THE REJUVENATION OF AUNT MARY. The lamotu cemedr ta three acts, by Anne Warner. 7 males, 6 females. Three interior scenes. Costumes modern. Plays 2H hours. This is a genuinely funny comedy with splendid parts for "Aunt Mary," "Jack," her lirely nephew; "Lucinda," a New England an- cient maid of all work; "Jack's" three chums; the Girl "Jack" Iotcs; "Joshua," Aunt Mary's hiccd man, etc **Avat Mary" was played by May Robson in New York and on teur for OTCT two years, and it is sure to be a bif success whererer pro- ihiead. We stroagly recomincad it. Price, 6Q Cents. MRS. BUMSTEAD-LEIGH. A pleaitAfir cocncdy, in three acts, by Harry James Smith, author of "Tke Tailor-Made Man." 6 males, 6 females. One interior scene. Cplcd by hyphenated names — ^a therae permitting innumerable com- pUcatioBs, according to the spirit of the writer. This most successful comedy wa* toured for several seasons by Mrs. Fiske with cnoitoous success. Price, 60 Cents. MRS. TEMPLE'S TELEGRAM. A most successful farce in three acts, by Frank Wyatt and Wfl- liam Morris. 5 males, 4 females. One interior scene stands through- out the three acts. Costumes modem. Plays 2yi hours. "Mrs. Temple's Telegram" is a sprightly farce in which there ia aa abundance of fun without any taint of impropriety or anT •!•- ment of offence. As noticed by Sir Walter Scott, "Oh, what a tanglod web we weave when first we practice to deectve." There is not a dull moment in the entire farce, and from the time the curtain rises until it makes the final drop the fun ia fast and forions. A very exceptional farce. Price, 60 Cents. THE NEW CO-ED. A eoocdy in four acta, by Marie Doran, author of "Tempest aad Stpuhiae," etc Characters, 4 males, 7 females, thoogh any aumber •f boys and girls can be introduced in the action of the play. One taterier and one exterior scene, but can be easily played in one inte- rior scene. Costumes modern. Time, about 2 hours. The theme Ed" to high schools and amatears. Price, 30 Csnta. (T>ia Above Art Subject to Royalty Whon Prodiieail) SAMUEL FRENCH, IS- JO West Mtli StrmH, New York CMy mm Mi ExiMctt DtscriiNlff Citatopi MifM Frtt ii i FRENCH'S Standard Library Edition Clyde Fitch William Gillette Augustus Thomas George Broadhurst Edward £. Kidder Percy MacKaye Sir Arthur Conan Doyle Louis N. Parker R. C. Carton Alfred Sutro Richard Harding Davis Sir Arthur W. Pinero Anthony Hope Oscar Wilde Haddon Chambers Jerome K. Jerome Cosmo Gordon Lennox H. V. Esmond Mark Swan Grace L. Fumiss Marguerite Merrington Hermann Sudermann Rida Johnson Young Arthur Law Rachel Crothers Martha Morton H. A. Du Souchet Includes Plays by Booth Tarkington J. Hartley Manners James Forbes James Montgomery Wm. C. de Mille Roi Cooper Megrue Edward E. Rose Israel Zangwill Henry Bernstein Harold Brighouse Channing Pollock Harry Durant Winchell Smith Margaret Mayo Edward Peple A. E. W. Mason Charles Klein Henry Arthur Jones A. E. Thomas Fred. Ballard Cyril Harcourt Carlisle Moore Ernest Denny Laurence Housman Harry James Smith Ekigar Selwyn Augustin McHugh Robert Housum Charles Kenjron C. M. S. McLellan W. W. Jacobs Madeleine Lucette Ryley French's International Copjrrighted Edition con- tains plays, comedies and farces of international reputation; also recent professional successes by famous American and English Authors. Send a four-cent stamp for our new catalogxie describing thousands of pla}^ SAMUEL FRENCH Oklest Play Publisher in the World 28-30 West 38th Street, NEW YORK CITY ft