Barrie, J M - Quality Street, Page 6

  VALENTINE (a little complacently). Why, ma'am, I know all about it. I am in love, Miss Livvy.

  P HOEBE (with a disdainful inclination of the head). I wish you happy.

  VALENTINE. With a lady who was once very like you, ma'am.

  (At first PHOEBE does not understand, then a suspicion of his meaning comes to her.)

  PHOEBE. Not not oh no.

  VALENTINE. I had not meant to speak of it, but why should not I ? It will be a fine lesson to you, Miss Livvy. Ma'am, it is your Aunt Phoebe whom I love.

  PHOEBE (rigid). You do not mean that.

  VALENTINE. Most ardently.

  PHOEBE. It is not true; how dare you make sport of her.

  VALENTINE. Is it sport to wish she may be my wife?

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  PHOEBE. Your wife !

  VALENTINE. If I could win her.

  PHOEBE (bewildered). May I solicit, sir, for how long you have been attached to Miss Phoebe?

  VALENTINE. For nine years, I think.

  PHOEBE. You think !

  VALENTINE. I want to be honest. Never in all that time had I thought myself in love. Your aunts were my dear friends, and while I was at the wars we sometimes wrote to each other, but they were only friendly letters. I presume the affection was too placid to be love.

  PHOEBE. I think that would be Aunt Phoebe's opinion.

  VALENTINE. Yet I remember, before we went into action for the first time I suppose the fear of death was upon me some of them were making their wills I have no near relative I left everything to these two ladies.

  PHOEBE (softly). Did you?

  (What is it that MISS PHOEBE begins to see as she sits there so quietly, with her hands pressed together as if upon some treasure?

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  It is PHOEBE of the ringlets with the stain taken out of her.)

  VALENTINE. And when I returned a week ago and saw Miss Phoebe, grown so tired-looking and so poor

  PHOEBE. The shock made you feel old, I know.

  VALENTINE. No, Miss Livvy, but it filled me with a sudden passionate regret that I had not gone down in that first engagement. They would have been very comfortably left.

  PHOEBE. Oh, sir !

  VALENTINE. I am not calling it love.

  PHOEBE. It was sweet and kind, but it was not love.

  VALENTINE. It is love now.

  PHOEBE. No, it is only pity.

  VALENTINE. It is love.

  PHOEBE (she smiles tremulously). You really mean Phoebe tired, unattractive Phoebe, that woman whose girlhood is gone. Nay, im- possible.

  VALENTINE (stoutly). Phoebe of the fascinat- ing playful ways, whose ringlets were once as

  in.] QUALITY STREET 101

  pretty as yours, ma'am. I have visited her in her home several times this week you were always out I thank you for that ! I was alone with her, and with fragrant memories of her.

  PHOEBE. Memories ! Yes, that is the Phoebe you love, the bright girl of the past not the schoolmistress in her old-maid's cap.

  VALENTINE. There you wrong me, for I have discovered for myself that the schoolmistress in her old-maid's cap is the noblest Miss Phoebe of them all. (// only he would go away, and let MISS PHOEBE cry.) When I enlisted, I remember I compared her to a garden. I have often thought of that.

  PHOEBE. 'Tis an old garden now.

  VALENTINE. The paths, ma'am, are better shaded.

  PHOEBE. The flowers have grown old- fashioned.

  VALENTINE. They smell the sweeter. Miss Livvy , do you think there is any hope for me ?

  PHOEBE. There was a man whom Miss Phoebe loved long ago. He did not love her.

  VALENTINE. Now here was a fool !

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  PHOEBE. He kissed her once.

  VALENTINE. If Miss Phoebe suffered him to do that she thought he loved her.

  PHOEBE. Yes, yes. (She has to ask him the ten years old question.} Do you opinion that this makes her action in allowing it less repre- hensible ? It has been such a pain to her ever since.

  VALENTINE. How like Miss Phoebe! (Sternly.) But that man was a knave.

  PHOEBE. No, he was a good man only a little inconsiderate. She knows now that he has even forgotten that he did it. I suppose men are like that ?

  VALENTINE. No, Miss Liwy, men are not like that. I am a very average man, but I thank God I am not like that.

  PHOEBE. It was you.

  VALENTINE (after a pause). Did Miss Phoebe say that?

  PHOEBE. Yes.

  VALENTINE. Then it is true. (He is very grave and quiet.)

  PHOEBE. It was raining and her face was

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  wet. You said you did it because her face was wet.

  VALENTINE. I had quite forgotten.

  PHOEBE. But she remembers, and how often do you think the shameful memory has made her face wet since? The face you love, Captain Brown, you were the first to give it pain. The tired eyes how much less tired they might be if they had never known you. You who are torturing me with every word, what have you done to Miss Phoebe ? You who think you can bring back the bloom to that faded garden, and all the pretty airs and graces that fluttered round it once like little birds before the nest is torn down bring them back to her if you can, sir; it was you who took them away.

  VALENTINE. I vow I shall do my best to bring them back. (MISS PHOEBE shakes her head.) Miss Livvy, with your help

  PHOEBE. My help ! I have not helped. I tried to spoil it all.

  VALENTINE (smiling). To spoil it? You mean that you sought to flirt even with me. Ah, I knew you did. But that is nothing.

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  PHOEBE. Oh, sir, if you could overlook it.

  VALENTINE. I do.

  PHOEBE. And forget these hateful balls.

  VALENTINE. Hateful ! Nay, I shall never call them that. They have done me too great a service. It was at the balls that I fell in love with Miss Phoebe.

  PHOEBE. What can you mean ?

  VALENTINE. She who was never at a ball ! (Checking himself humorously.) But I must not tell you, it might hurt you.

  PHOEBE. Tell me.

  VALENTINE (gaily). Then on your own head be the blame. It is you who have made me love her, Miss Livvy.

  PHOEBE. Sir ?

  VALENTINE. Yes, it is odd, and yet very simple. You who so resembled her as she was ! for an hour, ma'am, you bewitched me; yes, I confess it, but 'twas only for an hour. How like, I cried at first, but soon it was, how unlike. There was almost nothing she would have said that you said; you did so much that she would

  in.] QUALITY STREET 105

  have scorned to do. But I must not say these things to you !

  PHOEBE. I ask it of you, Captain Brown.

  VALENTINE. Well! Miss Phoebe's 'lady- likeness,' on which she set such store that I used to make merry of the word I gradually per- ceived that it is a woman's most beautiful garment, and the casket which contains all the adorable qualities that go to the making of a perfect female. When Miss Livvy rolled her eyes ah !

  (He stops apologetically.)

  PHOEBE. Proceed, sir.

  VALENTINE. It but made me the more com- placent that never in her life had Miss Phoebe been guilty of the slightest deviation from the strictest propriety. (She shudders.) I was always conceiving her in your place. Oh, it was monstrous unfair to you. I stood looking at you, Miss Livvy, and seeing in my mind her and the pretty things she did, and you did not do; why, ma'am, that is how I fell in love with Miss Phoebe at the balls.

  PHOEBE. I thank you.

  10S QUALITY STREET [ACT

  VALENTINE. Ma'am, tell me, do you think there is any hope for me ?

  PHOEBE. Hope !

  VALENTINE. I shall go to her. 'Miss Phoebe/ I will say oh, ma'am, so reverently 'Miss Phoebe, my beautiful, most estimable of women, let me take care of you for ever more/ (MISS PHOEBE presses the words to Jier heart and then drops them.)

  PHOEBE. Beautiful. La, Aunt Phoeb
e !

  VALENTINE. Ah, ma'am, you may laugh at a rough soldier so much enamoured, but 'tis true. 'Marry me, Miss Phoebe,' I will say, 'and I will take you back through those years of hardships that have made your sweet eyes too patient. Instead of growing older you shall grow younger. We will travel back together to pick up the many little joys and pleasures you had to pass by when you trod that thorny path alone.'

  PHOEBE. Can't be can't be.

  VALENTINE. Nay, Miss Phoebe has loved me. 'Tis you have said it.

  PHOEBE. I did not mean to tell you.

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  VALENTINE. She will be my wife yet.

  PHOEBE. Never.

  VALENTINE. You are severe, Miss Liwy. But it is because you are partial to her, and I am happy of that.

  PHOEBE (in growing horror of herself}. I partial to her ! I am laughing at both of you. Miss Phoebe. La, that old thing.

  VALENTINE (sternly). Silence!

  PHOEBE. I hate her and despise her. If you

  knew what she is

  (He stops her with a gesture.)

  VALENTINE. I know what you are.

  PHOEBE. That paragon who has never been guilty of the slightest deviation from the strictest propriety.

  VALENTINE. Never.

  PHOEBE. That garden

  VALENTINE. Miss Liwy, for shame.

  PHOEBE. Your garden has been destroyed, sir; the weeds have entered it, and all the flowers are choked.

  VALENTINE. You false woman, what do you mean?

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  PHOEBE. I will tell you. (But his confidence awes her.) What faith you have in her. - VALENTINE. As in my God. Speak. PHOEBE. I cannot tell you. VALENTINE. No, you cannot. PHOEBE. It is too horrible. VALENTINE. You are too horrible. Is not that it?

  PHOEBE. Yes, that is it.

  (MISS SUSAN has entered and caught the last words.)

  MISS SUSAN (shrinking as from a coming blow). What is too horrible ?

  VALENTINE. Ma'am, I leave the telling of it to her, if she dare. And I devoutly hope those are the last words I shall ever address to this lady.

  (He bows and goes out in dudgeon. MISS SUSAN believes all is discovered and t hat MISS PHOEBE is for ever shamed.) MISS SUSAN (taking PHOEBE in Jier arms) . My love, my dear, what terrible thing has he said to you?

  PHOEBE (forgetting everything bid that she is

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  laved). Not terrible glorious! Susan, 'tis Phoebe he loves, 'tis me, not Livvy ! He loves me, he loves me ! Me Phoebe !

  (MISS SUSAN'S bosom swells. It is her great hour as much as PHOEBE'S.)

  End of Act HI.

  ACT IV

  ACT IV THE BLUE AND WHITE ROOM

  // we could shut our eyes to the two sisters sitting here in woe, this would be, to the male eye at least, the identical blue and white room of ten years ago ; the same sun shining into it and playing familiarly with Miss Susan's treasures. But the ladies are changed. It is not merely that Miss Phoebe has again donned her schoolmistress's gown and hidden her curls under the cap. To see her thus once more, her real self, after the escapade of the ball, is not unpleasant, and the cap and gown do not ill become the quiet room. But she now turns guiltily from the sun that used to be her intimate, her face is drawn, her form condensed into the smallest space, and her hands lie trembling in her lap. It is disquieting to note that any life there is in the room comes not from her but from Miss Susan. If the house were to go on fire now it would be she who would have to carry out Miss Phoebe.

  Whatever of import has happened since the ball, Patty knows it, and is enjoying it. We see this as she 113

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  ushers in Miss Willoughby. Note also, ivith concern, that at mention of the visitor's name the eyes of the sisters turn affrightedly, not to the door by which their old friend enters, but to the closed door of the spare bed-chamber. Patty also gives it a meaning glance ; then the three look at each other ; and two oj them blanch.

  MISS WILLOUGHBY (the fourth to look at the door). I am just run across, Susan, to inquire how Miss Livvy does now.

  MISS SUSAN. She is still very poorly, Mary.

  MISS WILLOUGHBY. I am so unhappy of that. I conceive it to be a nervous disorder ?

  MISS SUSAN (almost too glibly). Accompanied by trembling, flutterings, and spasms.

  MISS WILLOUGHBY. The excitements of the ball. You have summoned the apothecary at last, I trust, Phoebe?

  (MISS PHOEBE, once so ready of defence, can say nothing.)

  MISS SUSAN (to the rescue). It is Livvy 's own wish that he should not be consulted.

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  MISS WILLOUGHBY (looking longingly at the door). May I go in to see her ?

  MISS SUSAN. I fear not, Mary. She is almost asleep, and it is best not to disturb her. (Peep- ing into the bedroom.) Lie quite still, Livvy, my love, quite still.

  (Somehow this makes PATTY smile so broadly that she finds it advisable to retire. MISS WILLOUGHBY sighs, and produces a small bowl from the folds of her cloak.) MISS WILLOUGHBY. This is a little arrowroot, of which I hope Miss Liwy will be so obliging as to partake.

  MISS SUSAN (taking the bowl). I thank you, Mary.

  PHOEBE (ashamed) . Susan, we ought not

  MISS SUSAN (shameless). I will take it to her while it is still warm.

  (She goes into the bedroom. MISS WIL- LOUGHBY gazes at MISS PHOEBE, who certainly shrinks. It has not escaped the notice of the visitor that MISS PHOEBE has become the more timid of the sisters, and she has evolved an explanation.)

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  MISS WILLOUGHBY. Phoebe, has Captain Brown been apprised of Miss Livvy's illness?

  PHOEBE (uncomfortably). I think not, Miss Willoughby.

  MISS WILLOUGHBY (sorry for PHOEBE, and speaking very kindly). Is this right, Phoebe? You informed Fanny and Henrietta at the ball of his partiality for Livvy. My dear, it is hard for you, but have you any right to keep them apart ?

  PHOEBE (discovering only now what are the suspicions of Jier friends). Is that what you think I am doing, Miss Willoughby ?

  MISS WILLOUGHBY. Such a mysterious ill- ness. (Sweetly) Long ago, Phoebe, I once caused much unhappiness through foolish jealousy. That is why I venture to hope that you will not be as I was, my dear.

  PHOEBE. I jealous of Liwy !

  MISS WILLOUGHBY (with a sigh). I thought as little of the lady I refer to, but he thought otherwise.

  PHOEBE. Indeed, Miss Willoughby, you wrong me.

  iv.] QUALITY STREET 117

  (But MISS WILLOUGHBY does not entirely believe her, and there is a pause, so long a pause that unfortunately MISS SUSAN thinks she has left the house.) MISS SUSAN (peeping in). Is she gone? MISS WILLOUGHBY (hurt). No, Susan, but I am going. MISS SUSAN (distressed). Mary!

  (She follows her out, but MISS WILLOUGHBY will not be comforted, and there is a coldness between them for the rest of the day. MISS SUSAN is not so abashed as she ought to be. She returns, and partakes with avidity of the arrowroot.)

  Miss SUSAN. Phoebe, I am well aware that this is wrong of me, but Mary's arrowroot is so delicious. The ladies'-fingers and petticoat-tails those officers sent to Liwy, I ate them also ! (Once on a time this would have amused MISS PHOEBE, but her sense of humour has gone. She is crying.) Phoebe, if you have such remorse you will weep yourself to death.

  PHOEBE. Oh, sister, were it not for you, how gladly would I go into a decline.

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  MISS SUSAN (after she has soothed PHOEBE a little). My dear, what is to be done about her ? We cannot have her supposed to be here for ever.

  PHOEBE. We had to pretend that she was ill to keep her out of sight; and now we cannot say she has gone away, for the Miss Willoughby's windows command our door, and they are always watching.

  MISS SUSAN (peeping from the window). I see Fanny watching now. I feel, Phoebe, as if Livvy really existed.

  PHOEBE (mournfully). We shall never be able t
o esteem ourselves again.

  MISS SUSAN (who has in her the makings of a desperate criminal). Phoebe, why not marry him? If only we could make him think that Livvy had gone home. Then he need never know.

  PHOEBE. Susan, you pain me. She who marries without telling all hers must ever be a false face. They are his own words. (PATTY enters importantly.)

  PATTY. Captain Brown.

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  PHOEBE (starting up). I wrote to him, begging him not to come.

  MISS SUSAN (quickly). Patty, I am sorry we are out.

  (But VALENTINE has entered in time to hear her words.)

  VALENTINE (not unmindful that this is the room in which he is esteemed a wit) . I regret that they are out, Patty, but I will await their return. (The astonishing man sits on the ottoman beside MISS SUSAN, but politely ignores her presence.) It is not my wish to detain you, Patty.

  (PATTY goes reluctantly, and the sisters think how like him, and how delightful it would be if they were still the patterns of propriety he considers them.) PHOEBE (bravely). Captain Brown. VALENTINE (rising). You, Miss Phoebe. I hear Miss Liwy is indisposed ? PHOEBE. She is very poorly. VALENTINE. But it is not that unpleasant girl I have come to see, it is you.

  MISS SUSAN (meekly). How do you do?

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  VALENTINE (ignoring her). And I am happy, Miss Phoebe, to find you alone.

  MISS SUSAN (appealingly). How do you do, sir?

  PHOEBE. You know quite well, sir, that Susan is here.

  VALENTINE. Nay, ma'am, excuse me. I heard Miss Susan say she was gone out. Miss Susan is incapable of prevarication.

  MISS SUSAN (rising helpless). What am I to do?

  PHOEBE. Don't go, Susan 'tis what he wants.

  VALENTINE. I have her word that she is not present.