Under the Gaslight/Act I
ACT I.
SCENE 1st.—Parlor at the Courtlands; deep window at back showing snowy exterior; street lamp lighted; time, night; the place elegantly furnished; chandelier.
Ray Trafford is discovered lounging on tete-a-tete (C.) Pearl is at (L.) door taking leave of Demilt, Windel, Mrs. Van Dam, and Sue Earlie, who are all dressed and muffled to go out.
Mrs. V. Good night! of course we'll see you on Tuesday.
Pearl. To be sure you will.
Demilt. Never spent a jollier hour. Good night, Ray.
Ray. (On sofa.) Good night.
Mrs V. You won't forget the Sociable on Tuesday, Ray?
Ray. O, I won't forget.
All. (At door.) Good night—good night! [Exit. L.
Pearl. Good night. (Coming forward.) O, dear! now they're gone, and the holiday's gone with them. (Goes to window.) There they go. (Laughter without.) Ray, do come and look at the Van Dam's new sleigh. How they have come out.
Ray. Yes, it's the gayest thing in the Park!
Pearl. (Still at window C.) I wonder where they got the money! I thought you said Van Dam had failed!
Ray. Well, yes. He failed to pay, but he continues to spend.
Pearl. (As if to those outside). Good night! (Response from without as sleigh bells jingle—"Good night.") I wish I was in there with you. It's delightful for a sleigh ride, if it wasn't New Year's. O! there's Demilt over! (Laughter outside—cracking of whips—Ray saunters up to window. Sleigh bells jingle, sleigh music heard to die away. Ray and Pearl wave their handkerchiefs. Ray comes down and sits, C.)
Pearl. (Closing lace curtains.) Isn't it a frightful thing to be shut up here on such a beautiful night, and New Year's of all others. Pshaw? we've had nothing but mopes all day. O, dear! I hate mourning, though it does become me, and I hate everything but fun, larks and dancing. (Comes down).
Ray. Where in the world is Laura?
Pearl. O! do forget her for a second, can't you? She'll be here presently. You're not in the house a minute but it's, "Where's Laura?" "Why don't Laura come?"
Ray. (Taking her hand) Well, if anybody in the world could make me forget her, it would be you. But if you had a lover, wouldn't you like him to be as constant as that?
Pearl. That's quite another thing.
Ray. But this doesn't answer my question―Where is she?
Pearl. I sent for her as soon as I saw you coming. She has hardly been down here a moment all this evening. O, dear! Now don't you think I'm a victim, to be cooped up in this way instead of receiving calls as we used to?
Ray. You forget that your mother died only last summer. (Rising.)
Pearl. No, I don't forget. Pshaw! You're just like Laura. She's only my cousin, and yet she keeps always saying―"Poor aunt Mary! let us not forget how she would have sorrowed for us."
Ray. (Going towards back). Well, don't you know she would, too?
Pearl. I don't know anything about it. I was always at boarding school, and she only saw me once a year. Laura was always at home, and it's very different. But don't let's talk about it. To die—ugh! I don't want to die till I don't want to live—and that'll not be for a million of years. Come, tell me where have you been to-day? how many calls did you make? (Sitting in tete-a-tete).
Ray. About sixty.
Pearl. That all? You're lazy. Demilt and Windel made a hundred and thirty, and they say that's nothing. Won't you have a cup of coffee?
Ray. No.
Pearl. Ain't you hungry?
Ray. No—you torment.
Pearl. O, dear ! I suppose it's because you're going to be mar ried shortly to Laura. If there's one time that a man's stupid to his friends, it's when he's going to be married shortly. Tell me whom you saw. (Ray has sauntered off (L.), and is looking over cards on table.) Where are you? Oh, you needn't be so impatient to see her. Do be agreeable; sit here and tell me something funny, or I shall drop down and fall asleep.
Ray. (Over her shoulder). You witch! Why didn't I fall in love with you?
Pearl. (Laughing.) I don't know; why didn't you?
Ray. You never keep me waiting. (Listening off R.) Ah, that's her step! No.
Pearl. Do sit down.
Ray. (Sitting). This calling's a great bore; but as you and Laura insisted I should go through it, I did. First I—(Jumping up.) I knew it was she. (Goes to door, R. H.: meets Laura, who enters.) How you did keep me waiting. (Kisses both her hands.)
Laura. And you, sir, we have been looking for you since eight o'clock.
Ray. O, I was fulfilling your orders. I've been engaged in the business of calling, from ten o 'clock in the morning, till now— (looks at watch—) ten at night.
Laura. Well, you can make this your last one, for you have leave to spend a nice long hour chatting here before you go. Won't you have some supper. (Goes to bell). L. 2 E. on table.
Ray. I don't care if I do. I'm rather famished.
Pearl. Well, I declare! Did Laura bring your appetite with her?
Ray. I don't know how it is, but she brings me a relish for everything in life, I believe. Laura, I think if I were to lose you I'd mope to death and starve to death.
Laura. Well, that's as much as to say I'm a sort of Life Pill. (Martin enters door L. H.) Supper. (Martin exits.}
Ray. You may joke about it,—but it's so. You take the lounge (Laura and Pearl sit on tete-a-tete.)
Pearl. You don't want me to go away, do you? (Putting her head on Laura's shoulder.)
Laura. Certainly not. What an idea!
Pearl. I'm sure you'll have time enough to be alone when you are married. And I do so want to talk and be talked to.
Laura. Well, Ray shall talk to you.
Pearl. He was just going to tell me about his calls to-day.
Laura. That's exactly what we want to hear about. Did you call on every one we told you to?
Ray. Every one. There was Miss ———
Pearl. Did you go to Henrietta Liston's first?
Ray. Yes, and wasn't she dressed! Speaking of dress, are you going to have your new pink for the Sociable, Tuesday?
Laura. Yes, Pearl, and I will do credit to the occasion, as it is our first for a year.
Ray. (Taking Laura's hand.) And our last.
Pearl. Our last!
Ray. Laura's and mine. For when we are married, you know, we shall be tabooed—where maids and bachelors only are permitted.
Pearl. bless me! (rising.) How do you do Mrs. Trafford.
Laura. (rising) (sadly.) I wish you hadn't said that Pearl. You know the old proverb "Call a maid by a married name."
Ray. Nonsense! (Putting his arm about Laura's waist.) It's only a few days to wait, and we'll live long enough, you know. For nothing but death shall separate us.
Pearl. O, here's supper.
Martin. Beg pardon, Miss.
Laura. What's the matter?
Martin. There's a person below, Miss, who says he's been sent with a bouquet for you, Miss, and must deliver it in person.
Laura. For me? Whose servant is it?
Martin. I don't know, Miss, he looks like one of those Soldier Messengers—red cap and all that.
Laura. Show him up here.
Pearl. How romantic. So late at night. It's a rival in disguise, Ray.
(Martin re-enters showing in Snorkey, with an air of disdain, SNOR. has a large bouquet in his hand, and his hat is under the stump of his right arm, which is cut off.
Laura. You wished to see me?
Snorkey. (L. H.) Are you Miss Laura Courtland?
Laura. Yes.
Snorkey. Then I was told to give you this.
Laura. (Taking it from Ray, who has crossed L. H. and received it from Snorkey.) By whom?
Snorkey. Now, that's what I don't know myself! You see I was down by the steps of the Fifth Avenue Hotel, taking a light supper off a small toothpick, when a big chap dressed in black came by, and says he: "Hallo, come with me if you want to earn a quarter." That (confidentially to all) being my very frame of mind, I went up one street and down another, till we came here. "Just you take this up there," says he, "and ask for Miss {sc|Laura Courtland}}, and give it to her and no one else."
Laura. It is some folly of our late visitors.
Snorkey. I'm one of the Soldier Messengers, Miss. We take to it very well, considering we had so little running in Uncle Sam's service.
Ray. (As Snor. is going L.) Stop a moment, my man. Were you not one of the Twenty-second's recruits?
Snorkey. Yes, Captain; I remember you joined us in New York, and left us at Washington. Real fighting wasn't funny, you thought, and I began to think so too at Fredericksburg.
Ray. Poor devil.
Snorkey. There was a South Carolina gentleman took such a fancy to me at Fredericksburg! Wouldn't have no denial, cut off my arm to remember me by; he was very fond of me. I wasn't any use to Uncle Sam then, so I came home, put a red band round my blue cap, and with my empty sleeve, as a character from my last place, sot up for light porter and general messenger. All orders executed with neatness and dispatch.
Pearl. And Uncle Sam has forgotten you.
Snorkey. Ah! Miss, don't blame Uncle Sam for that, he's got such a big family to look after, I can't find fault if he don't happen to remember all us poor stumps of fellows.
Ray. (L. H.) So it seems.
Laura. (C.) (Pearl takes bouquet.) Poor fellow! (To servant.) Martin, be sure and give him a glass of wine before he goes.
Snorkey. (L. C.) I m much obliged, Miss—but I don't think it would be good for me on an empty stomach—after fasting all day.
Laura. Well, Martin shall find you some supper, too.
Snorkey. Is this Martin? What a nice young man. Mayn't lie have a drop of something, too? He must have caught cold let ting me in, he has got such a dreadful stiffness in the back of his neck.
Ray. (Giving penciled address.) Call on me at this place to-morrow, and you shan't regret it.
Snorkey. All right, Cap'n! I havn't forgot the Army Regulations about punctuality and promotion. Ladies, if ever either of you should want a Light Porter, think of Joe Snorkey—wages no objection.
Pearl. (C.) (Who has been examining the bouquet.) O! Laura, only look—here's a billet-doux!
Ray. Nonsense! Crazy head! Who would dare (takes bouquet)—a letter! (Takes a paper from bouquet.)
Laura. A letter?
Pearl. I am crazy—am I?
Ray. (Reads superscription.) "For Miss Laura Courtland. Confidential."
Laura. (Laughs.) Ha! Ha! from some goose who has made one call too many to-day. Read it, Ray—(Offering letter.)
Ray. "Dear Laura———(Refusing the letter, and going to Pearl.)
Laura. (Looks at it a moment, when the whole expression of face changes. Then reads slowly and deliberately. Ray down R. C. with Pearl.) "I respectfully beg you to grant me the favor of an interview to-night. I have waited until your company retired. I am waiting across the street, now."
Pearl. (Runs to window.) A tall man in black is just walking away.
Laura. "If you will have the door opened as soon as you get this, I will step over; if you don't, I will ring; under all circumstances I will get in. There is no need to sign my name; you will remember me as the strange man whom you once saw talking with your mother in the parlor, and who frightened you so much." What can be the meaning of this?—Pearl—no—(goes to bell on table L. H., and rings)
Ray. Laura, you—
Laura. Ask me nothing. I will tell you by-and-by.
Martin. Missit———
Laura. Admit no one till you bring me the name.
Martin. I was about to tell you, Miss, that a strange man has forced himself in at the door and asks to see you, but will give no name.
Ray. Kick the rascal out! [Cross to L.
Pearl. Oh! don't let him come here.
Martin. He's a very strange-looking person, Miss.
Ray. I'll find out what this means! (Is going to door L. when Byke appears at it smiling and bowing.)
Byke. (L. H.) I'll spare you the trouble, if you'll hear me a minute.
Ray. (L. C.) (violently.) Who are you, fellow?
Byke. Don't, I beg you. Don't speak so crossly; I might answer back—then you d kick me out—and you'd never forgive yourself for it as long as I lived.
Ray. Your business? Come! Speak quickly and begone.
Byke. (Coming down L.) Business! on this happy day! I came for pleasure—to see Miss Courtland, my little pupil———grown so———only think, sir! I knew her when she was only a little child. I taught her music—she was so musical and so beautiful———I adored her, and her mother told me I needn't come again—But I did—and her mother was glad to see me. Wasn't she, little pupil?—(to Laura, who is pale with terror, leaning on Pearl. Ray C., Byke L.)—and begged me to stay but I said no—I'd call occasionally to see my dear little pupil, and to receive any trifling contribution her mother might give me. Won't you shake hands, little pupil? (Advances suddenly, when Ray grasps him by the collar—Byke glares at him a moment. Then, quickly as before.) Don't! please, don't! The stuff is old, and I've no other.
Ray. The fellow's drunk! Leave the house.
Byke. What! after sending that touching bouquet?
Laura. It was you, then? I knew it.
Byke. You see she knows me. Ah! memory how it blooms again where the plough of time has passed.
Laura. Leave this house at once.
Byke. Not until I have spoken to you.
Rag. (Seizing him.) You miserable rascal.
Byke. Don't, pray don't! I weigh a hundred and ninety-eight pounds, and if you attempt to throw me about you'll strain yourself.
Laura. (Crossing) Go. To-morrow in the morning I will see you.
Byke. Thanks! I thank you, Miss, for your forbearance. (To Ray.) I am also obliged to you, sir, for not throwing me out at the window. I am indeed. I wish you good night, and many happy returns of the day. (Bows and turns to go. Then familiarly to servant.) Many calls to-day, John?
Ray. (Runs to Laura, who is pale.)
Laura, (Pointing after Byke.) See that he goes.
Laura. (Taking both of Pearl's hands in her own.) Pearl, he must know everything.
Pearl. O, dear! this is dreadful! I do hate scenes.
Laura. He must know everything, I tell you; and you must relate all. He will question—he will ponder—leave him nothing to ask.
Pearl. If you wish it, but—
Laura. I desire it; speak of me as you will but tell him the truth. (Ray enters hastily, L.) Stay with her. Don't follow me.
Ray. (Down R. H.) Pearl, what does this mean.
Pearl. O, it's only a little cloud that I want to clear up for you.
Ray. Cloud—how? where?
Pearl. Don't I tell you I am going to tell you. Sit down here by me. (She sinks into tete-a-tete, C.)
Ray. (Promenading.) He said he knew her. And she gave him an interview for to-morrow. That drunken wretch—
Pearl. Do sit down. I can never speak while you are walking about so. (Gets up, brings him to a chair, R. H. and makes him sit.) Sit by me, won't you? for I've got something strange to tell you.
Ray. You serious! I'd as soon expect to see the lightning tamed. Well, I listen.
Pearl. I have something to say to you, Ray, which you must settle with your own heart. You love Laura, do you not?
Ray. Pearl, I do more, I adore her. I adore the very air that she breathes. I will never be happy without her. I can swear that.
Pearl. Laura is twenty now. How do you think she looked when I first saw her?
Ray. Were you at home when she first came into this earthly sphere?
Pearl. Yes.
Ray. Well then, I suppose she looked very small and very pink.
Pearl. She was covered with rags, barefooted, unkempt, crying and six years old.
Ray. (Shocked.) Explain.
Pearl. One night father and mother were going to the Opera. When they were crossing Broadway, the usual crowd of children accosted them for alms. As mother felt in her pocket for some change, her fingers touched a cold and trembling hand which had clutched her purse.
Ray. A pickpocket! Well.
Pearl. This hand my mother grasped by her own, and so tightly that a small, feeble voice uttered an exclamation of pain. Mother looked down, and there beside her was a little ragged girl.
Ray. The thief.
Pearl. Yes, but a thief hardly six years old, with a face like an angel's. "Stop!" said my mother. "What are you doing?" "Trying to steal," said the child. "Don't you know that it's wicked to do so?" asked my father. "No," said the girl, "but it's dreadful to be hungry." "Who told you to steal?" asked my mother. "She—there!" said the child, pointing to a squalid woman in a doorway opposite, who fled suddenly down the street. "That is Old Judas," said the girl.
Ray. Old Judas. What a name! But how does this story interest us?
Pearl. This child was Laura. My father was about to let her go unharmed—but my mother said "No, it is not enough. We have a duty to perform, even to her," and acting on a sudden impulse, took her to our home. On being questioned there, the child seemed to have no recollection, save of misery and blows. My mother persuaded father, and the girl was sent to a country clergyman's for instruction, and there she remained for several years.
Ray. Pearl, you are joking with me.
Pearl. In beauty, and accomplishments, and dignity, Laura (as mother named her) exceeded every girl of her age. In gratitude she was all that father could have wished. She was introduced as you know, into society as my cousin, and no one dreams of her origin.
Ray. (Starting np). Laura, an outcast—a thief!
Pearl. (Rising). No, that is what she might have been.
Ray. And this man—to-night.
Pearl. All I know about him is, that four years ago this man came with a cruel looking woman, to see mother. There was a fearful scene between them, for Laura and I sat trembling on the stairs, and overheard some awful words. At last they went away, the man putting money into his pocket as he left.
Ray. But who were they?
Pearl. Laura never told me, and mother would not. But, of course, they must have been Laura's father and mother. (Ray sinks on chair as if overcome.)
Pearl. Mother made me promise never to tell anybody this, and you would have known nothing had not Laura made me speak. You see, she would not conceal anything from you. (Going to him.) Ray, why don't you speak—shall I go after Laura? Shall I tell her to come to you? Why don't you answer? (Going.) I'll go and tell her you want to see her. (Pausing as she goes R.) I'm going to send her to you, Ray.
Ray. (Starting up.) What a frightful story. Laura Courtland a thief! A drunken wretch who knows her history, and a squalid beggar woman who can claim her at any moment as their child. And I was about to marry her. Yes, and I love her. But what would my mother think? My friends Society? No—no—no—I cannot think of it. I will write her—I will tell her pshaw! she knows of course that I cannot wed her now! (Goes to the table L. U. E.) Here is paper. (Sits.) What am I about to do? What will be said of me? But 1 owe a duty to myself—to society—I must perform it. (Writes.) "Laura, I have heard of all from your sister." What have I said—(crosses out last word)—"from Pearl. You know that I love you, but my mother will demand of me a wife who will not blush to own her kindred, and who is not the daughter of obscurity and crime." It is just; it is I who have been deceived. (Folds letter and addresses it). I will leave it for her. (Puts on light overcoat, which hangs on chair at back.) I must go before she returns. Her step—too late! (Crams the letter into pocket of overcoat. Laura enters R. H.)
Laura. (Gently). Ray.
Ray. Miss—Miss Courtland. (Laura looks at him a moment, smiles and then crosses C. without further noticing him, and sits down on tete-a-tete.) What have I said? What ought I to have said? (He takes a step towards her she rises, without looking at him goes to window—looks out, then looks over books on table R. H.)
Ray. Laura—I—
Laura. Pshaw, where is my book?
Ray. What book do you want, Laura.?
Laura. Sir.
Ray. (Repulsed.) Oh!—(pause)—I've been a fool. How lovely she looks. (He follows her mechanically to table L.) Can I find it for you?
Laura. Don't trouble yourself I beg.
Ray. (Coming forward and leaning over her seat.) Laura.
Laura. (Without lifting her head.) Well.
Ray. (Toiling with her hair). Look at me.
Laura. (Turns round and looks full at him.)
Ray. No, no, not that way; as you used to. You act as if I were a stranger.
Laura. They are only strangers who call me Miss Courtland. (Resumes reading.)
Ray. Forgive me, I beg you to forgive me. (Coming round and sittting beside her.) I was mad—it was so sudden—this miserable story—but I don't care what they say. O! do listen to me. I thought you hated reading.
Laura. I often wish that I were ugly. wretched and repulsive, like the heroine in this story. (Seats herself.)
Ray. (Behind her.) Why?
Laura. Because, then I could tell who really loved me.
Ray. And don't you know?
Laura. No; I do not.
Ray. Well, I know.
Laura. Do tell me then, please.
Ray. He has told you so himself a hundred times.
Laura. You.
Ray. I.
Laura. (Laughing heartily at him, then, seriously.) How happy must those women be, who are poor, and friendless, and plain, when some true heart comes and says: I wish to marry you.
Ray. Laura, you act very strangely to-night.
Laura. Will you put this book away?
Ray. (Throws it on table.) There Laura. (Seats himself beside her.)
Laura. (Rising.) There's Pearl calling me.
Ray. (Rising and taking her hand.) Laura, why don't you let me speak to you.
Laura. About what?
Ray. About my love.
Laura. For whom? Not me. This is only marriage and giving In marriage. I hate the very word.
Ray. You did not think so once.
Laura. I wish I had. I am frightened now; I begin to understand myself better.
Ray. And I am frightened because I understand you less.
Laura. Do not try to; good night. (Up R. C. stops by door as she is going out,) good night Mr. Trafford.
Ray. I've been an ass. No, I wrong that noble animal. The ass recognized the angel, and I, like Balaam, was blind. But I see now. After all what have I to fear? (Takes letter from pocket.) No one knows of this, (puts it in his pocket again.) Let things go on; we'll be married, go straight to Europe, and live there ten years. That's the way we'll fix it.
SCENE II.—(1st Grooves)—The Gentlemen's coat-room at Delmonico's opening (C.) for hat and coat. Chairs (L. H.) Pier-glass on flat.
(Enter Windel and Demilt muffled, and with umbrellas L. 2 E. They proceed to disrobe.)
Dem. Phew! wet as the deuce, and cold, too. There'll be nobody here.
Wind. It's an awful night. The rooms are almost empty.
Dem. Sam! Where the dickens is that darkey? (Enter Sam R. fetching in a chair, and boot-black, box and brush.)
Sam. Here, sah.
Dem. (Sitting in chair.) Hurry up with my boots. Who's here?
Sam. Berry few gemman, sah; only lebben overcoats and ten overshoes. Bless de Lord—dem overshoes is spilin the polishin business.
Dem. Look out and don't give me any knocks.
Wind. (Handing in his coat at window and getting check for it.) I wonder if the Courtland girls have come yet.
Dem. What did Laura Courtland ever see in Trafford to fall in love with? The Van Dam party is my fancy.
Wind. (Brushing his hair at glass.) She's ten years older than you, and has a husband.
Dem. Yes, a fine old banker, on whom she can draw for everything but attention and affection. She has to get that by her own business tact.
(Other parties enter, exchange good-nights, and deposit their coats; some go out at once, some arrange themselves at glass.)
Dem. That'll do, Sam, take my coat. (Enter RAY, L. 1 E.)
Wind. Hallo! Trafford, this is a night, ain't it? Have the Courtlands come?
Ray. Not with me. Here, Sam, take my coat. (His coat is pulled off by Sam, and four letters drop out.) Stupid.
Dem. Save the pieces. Mind the love letters.
Ray. (Picking them up.} Look out well next time. There's that cursed letter I was going to send to Laura. Confound it, I must destroy it when I go home. (Puts letters back in overcoat pocket.) (Ray gets his boots touched up.)
Dem. I say, Trafford, what'll you take, and let a fellow read those? Windel, I guess if the girls could get into the cloak-room, it would be better than the dead-letter office. What a time they'd have! Are you ready?
Wind. What's the use of hurrying? There's no life in the party till Laura Courtland comes. By Jove, Trafford! you're in luck. She's the prettiest girl in New York.
Ray. And the best. (March music heard.)
Dem. There's the march music; let's go. (Gets a final brush a they all go off A. 1 E.)
Ray. Come along. [Exunt.
Sam. (Picking up a letter dropped from Ray's pocket.) Dere's anoder of dem billy dooses; wonder if it am Mist' Trafford's. Eh, golly! musn't mix dem gentlemen's letters, musn't mix 'em nohow,—or an oberruling providence wouldn't be able to stop fighting in dis city for de nex month.
(Scene draws off to dance music.)
(Wait till change of music before change of Sc.)
SCENE III.—The Blue Room at Delmonico's. Waltz-music as the Scene opens. Waltzers in motion. Pearl is dancing with Mrs. Van Dam.
(Enter Trafford, Demilt, and Windel, R. L. R.)
Pearl. There's Ray. I've had enough; I want to speak with him. (Bursts away from Mrs. Van D., runs up to Trafford. Demilt goes up to Mrs. Van D.)
Pearl. (To Ray.) You lazy fellow, where have you been?
Dem. You re not tired, are you?
Mrs. V. D.. I feel as fresh as a daisy.
Dem. Have a waltz with me. (Waltz music, piano, as they dance, Windel goes to Sue Earlie.)
Ray. (Coming down with Pearl.) Where's Laura?
Pearl. She wasn't ready, and I was dying to come. Been fixed since eight o'clock; so I came with Sue Earlie. So you made it up with Laura.
Ray. Yes. Don't say anything more about the horrid subject. We've made it all up. But what on earth keeps her to-night? It's eleven already. (Looking at watch.) Confound it, I tremble every moment she's out of my sight. I fear that terrible man and his secret.
Mrs. V. D. (Coming up with Demilt.) Trafford, you look very uneasy. What's the matter?
Ray. O, nothing. I think I ought to go for Laura. I will, too. (Servant passes at back.) Here! go up stairs for my overcoat. (Gives the man a card, and he goes out.)
Mrs. V. D. Nonsense! She'll be here in good time. You shan't leave us. Hold him, Pearl We want a nine-pin quadrille: we haven't half enough gentlemen. Come, be jolly about it. You lovers are always afraid some one will carry your girls away.
Ray. (Uneasy.) I? I'm not afraid.
Pearl. Come, come! I never saw such a restless fellow.
(Servant enters with coat, C.)
Servant. Here's your coat, sir.
Mrs. Van D. Give it to me. I'm determined you shan't go. (Takes coat carelessly.) I'll make you a promise—if Laura isn't here in fifteen minutes you shall have your coat, and may go for her.
Ray. Well, I suppose I'll have to wait.
Mrs Van D. There; take him off, Pearl. (Ray goes up with Pearl. To Servant.) Here take this back. (Flings coat to Servant. As she does so, letters drop from it.) Well, there's a mess! (Sue Earlie and another lady run forward and pick up letters.) Love letters, of course! (Smelling them.) Perfumed to suffocation.
Sue Earlie. Here's one for Laura. It's unsealed and not delivered.
Mrs. Van D. (Tremolo waltz music.) A fair prize! Let's see it. (Music. Takes and opens it. Puts on eye-glasses and reads.) "Laura"—Well, come! That's cool for a lover. "I have heard all from"———something scratched out—ah!—"Your sister, Pearl—Your obscure origin—terrible family connexions—the secret of the tie which binds you to a drunken wretch—My mother, Society—will demand of me a wife who will not blush to own her kindred,—or start at the name of outcast and thief!
"Signed, Ray Trafford."
(All stand speechless and look at each other. All this time the rest have been dancing.)
Sue Earlie. What can it mean?
Mrs. Van D. It means that the rumors of ten years ago are proven. It was then suspected that the girl whom Mrs. Courtland brought every year from some unnamed place in the country, and introduced to everybody as her niece, was an impostor, which that foolish woman, in a freak of generosity, was thrusting upon society. The rumors died out for want of proof and before Laura's beauty and dignity but now they are confirmed. She is some beggar's child.
Sue Earlie. What do you think we ought to do? (Trafford surrenders Pearl to Demilt, and comes down.)
Mrs. Van D. Tell it tell it everywhere, of course. The best blood of New York is insulted by the girl's presence. (Trafford coming down.)
Ray. (R. H.) What have you three girls got your heads together for? Some conspiracy, I know.
Mrs. Van D. (To ladies.) Go girls—tell it everywhere.
Ray. (As the ladies distribute themselves about the groups.) What is it all about? Your face is like a portrait of mystery.
Mrs. Van D. (Shewing letter.) Look at this, and tell me what it means.
Ray. (Quickly) Where did you get this?
Mrs. Van D. It is you who must answer—and Society that will question. So Laura is not a Courtland?
Ray. (Overcome.) You know, then,———
Mrs. Van D. Everything; and will you marry this creature? You cannot. Society will not permit your sacrifice.
Ray. This is not your business. Give me that letter.
Mrs. Van D. Certainly; take it. But let me say one word—its contents are known. In an hour every tongue will question you about this secret,—every eye will inquire.
Ray. I implore you! Do not breathe a word for her sake. (She turns scornfully away.)
Mrs. Van D. The secret's not mine.
Ray. Who knows it?
Mrs. Van D. Look! (Points to others who are grouped about whispering and motioning towards Ray. Pearl enters here E., and speaks to lady and gents L. C.)
Ray. (Wildly.) What will they do?
Mrs. Van D. Expose her! Expel her from society in which she is an intruder!
Ray. You dare not!
Pearl. O, Ray! What is the meaning of this?
Ray. (Bitterly.) It means that society is a terrible avenger of insult. Have you ever heard of the Siberian wolves? When one of the pack falls through weakness, the others devour him. It is not an elegant comparison but there is something wolfish in society. Laura has mocked it with a pretence, and society, which is made up of pretences, will bitterly resent the mockery.
Mrs. Van D. Very good! This handsome thief has stolen your breeding as well as your brains, I see.
Ray. If you speak a word against her, I will say that what you utter is a lie!
Mrs. Van D. As you please, we will be silent. But you will find that the world speaks most forcibly when it utters no sound.
Pearl. O, go and prevent her coming here.
Ray. That I can do, (going up hastily sees Laura entering at C. D.) Too late. (He retreats R. C.)
Mrs. Van D. Come girls! Let us look after our things. They are no longer safe when such an accomplished thief enters.
(Music low as Laura enters, continues while all except Pearl and Ray pass out, eyeing her superciliously. Laura C. Pearl R.)
Pearl. Ray, Ray, why do you not come to her?
Mrs. Van D. (Up C. of stage, surrounded by others) Are you not coming with us Trafford?
Pearl. (To Laura.) Let us go home.
Laura. No; stay with him., (pointing to Ray, who has held off.) He shall not suffer the disgrace long! (About to faint, Ray runs forward, she proudly waves him away.) It is Heaven's own blow.
PICTURE—Quick Curtain,
R. Ray. Laura and Pearl, C. Party at back.