The Title by Arnold Bennett (free ebook reader TXT) 📖

keep it for the end, that's all.

HILDEGARDE. Thanks. But I bet you we shall both fail.

JOHN. Well, if we do, I've still got something else waiting for her ladyship. A regular startler, my child.

HILDEGARDE. What is it?

Enter Mrs. Culver, back.

JOHN (to Hildegarde, as Mrs. Culver enters). Wait and see.

MRS. CULVER (cheerful and affectionate, to John). So you've come in. (To Hildegarde.) You are back early to-day! Well, my darlings, what do you want me for?

HILDEGARDE (imitating her mothers manner). Well, mamma darling, we hate bothering you. We know you've got quite enough worries, without having any more. But it's about this baronetcy business. (Mrs. Culver starts.) Do be an angel and listen to us.

MRS. CULVER (with admirable self-control). Of course, my pet. But you know the matter is quite, quite settled. Your father and I settled it together last night, and the letter of acceptance is in the hands of the Government by this time.

JOHN. It isn't, mater. It's here. (Pulls the letter out of his pocket.)

MRS. CULVER. John! What--

JOHN. Now, now, mater! Keep calm. This is really your own doing. Pater wanted to go to the post himself, but it was raining a bit, and you're always in such a fidget about his getting his feet wet you wouldn't let him go, and so I went instead.

HILDEGARDE. Yes, mummy darling, you must acknowledge that you were putting temptation in Johnnie's way.

JOHN. Soon as I got outside, I said to myself: 'I think the pater ought to have a night to think over this affair. It's very important. And he can easily send round an answer by hand in the morning.' So I didn't post the letter. I should have told you earlier, but you weren't down for breakfast, and I had to go out afterwards on urgent private business.

MRS. CULVER. But--but--(Controlling herself, grieved, but kind.) Your father will be terribly angry. I daren't face him.

JOHN (only half-suppressing his amusement at the last remark). Don't let that worry you. I'll face him. He'll be delighted. He'll write another letter, and quite a different one.

MRS. CULVER (getting firmer). But don't I tell you, my dearest boy, that the affair is settled, quite settled?

JOHN. It isn't settled so long as I've got this letter, anyway.

HILDEGARDE. Of course it isn't settled. Mother darling, we simply must look the facts in the face. Fact one, the letter is here. Fact two, the whole family is most frightfully upset. Dad's ill--

MRS. CULVER. That was the lobster.

JOHN. It wasn't.

MRS. CULVER. Yes, dear. Lobster always upsets him.

JOHN. It didn't this time.

MRS. CULVER. How do you know?

JOHN. I know, because I ate all his lobster. He shoved it over to me. You couldn't see for the fruit-bowl.

HILDEGARDE. No, mamma sweetest. It's this baronetcy business that's knocked poor papa over. And it's knocked over Johnnie and me too. I'm perfectly, perfectly sure you acted for the best, but don't you think you persuaded father against his judgment? Not to speak of our judgment!

MRS. CULVER. I've only one thought--

HILDEGARDE (caressing and kissing her mother). I know! I know! Father's happiness. Our happiness. Mamma, please don't imagine for a single instant that we don't realise that. You're the most delicious darling of an old mater--

MRS. CULVER (slightly suspicious). Hildegarde, you're quite a different girl to-day.

HILDEGARDE (nods). I've aged in a single night. I've become ever so serious. This baronetcy business has shown me that I've got convictions--and deep convictions. I admit I'm a different girl to-day. But then everything's different to-day. The whole house is different. Johnnie's different. Papa's missed going to the office for the first time in eight months. (Very sweetly.) Surely you must see, mamma, that something ought to be done, and that you alone can do it.

MRS. CULVER. What? What ought I to do?

HILDEGARDE. Go upstairs and tell dad you've changed your mind about the title, and advise him to write off instantly and refuse it. You know you always twist him round your little finger.

MRS. CULVER (looking at her little finger). I shouldn't dream of trying to influence your father once he had decided. And he has decided.

HILDEGARDE (sweetly). Mamma, you're most tremendously clever--far cleverer than any of us--but I'm not sure if you understand the attitude of the modern girl towards things that affect her convictions.

MRS. CULVER (sweetly). Are you the modern girl.

HILDEGARDE. Yes.

MRS. CULVER. Well, I'm the ancient girl. And I can tell you this--you're very like me, and we're both very like somebody else.

HILDEGARDE. Who's that.

MRS. CULVER. Eve.

JOHN. Come, mater. Eve would never have learnt typewriting. She'd have gone on the land.

MRS. CULVER. John, your sister and I are not jesting.

HILDEGARDE. I'm so glad you admit I'm serious, mamma. Because I am--very. I don't want to threaten--

MRS. CULVER. Threaten, darling?

HILDEGARDE (firmly, but quite lightly and sweetly). No, darling. Not to threaten. The mere idea of threatening is absurd. But it would be extremely unfair to you not to tell you that unless you agree to father refusing the title, I shall have to leave the house and live by myself. I really shall. Of course I can easily earn my own living. I quite see that you have principles. But I also have principles. If they clash--naturally it's my place to retire. And I shall, mamma dearest.

MRS. CULVER. Is that final?

HILDEGARDE. Final, mummy darling.

MRS. CULVER. Then, my dearest child, you must go.

HILDEGARDE (still sweetly). Is that final?

MRS. CULVER (still sweetly). Final, my poor pet.

JOHN (firmly). Now let me say a word.

MRS. CULVER (benignly). And what have you got to say in the matter? You've already been very naughty about that letter. Do try not to be ridiculous. Give me the letter. This affair has nothing to do with you. JOHN (putting the letter in his pocket). Nothing whatever to do with me! Mater, you really are a bit too thick. If it was a knighthood, I wouldn't care. You could have your blooming knighthood. Knighthoods do come to an end. Baronetcies go on for ever. I've told the dad, and I'll tell you, that I will not have my political career ruined by any baronetcy. And if you insist--may I respectfully inform you what I shall do? May I respectfully inform you--may I?

MRS. CULVER. John!

JOHN. I shall chuck Siege and go into the Flying Corps. And that's flat. If you really want to shorten my life, all you have to do is to stick to that bally baronetcy.

MRS. CULVER. Your father won't allow you to join the Flying Corps.

JOHN. My father can't stop me. I know the mess is expensive, but the pay's good, and I've got L150 of my own. Not a fortune! Not a fortune! But enough, quite enough. A short life and a merry one. I went to see Captain Skewes at the Automobile this morning. One of our old boys. He's delighted. He gave me Lanchester's 'Aircraft in Warfare' to read. Here it is. (Picking up the book.) Here it is! I shall be sitting up all night to-night reading it. A short life and a merry one.

MRS. CULVER. You don't mean it!

JOHN. I absolutely do.

MRS. CULVER (after a pause). John, you're trying to bully your mother.

JOHN. Not in the least, mater. I'm merely telling you what will happen if father accepts that piffling baronetcy.

MRS. CULVER (checking a tear; very sweetly). Well, my pets, you make life just a little difficult for me. I live only for you and your father. I think first of your father, and then of you two. For myself, I am perfectly indifferent. I consider all politics extremely silly. There never were any in my family, nor in your father's. And to me it's most extraordinary that your father should catch them so late in life. I always supposed that after thirty people were immune. (To John.) You, I suppose, were bound to have them sooner or later, but that Hilda should go out of her way to contract them--well, it passes me. It passes me. However, I've no more to say. Your father had made up his mind to accept the title. You want him to refuse it. I hate to influence him (Hildegarde again hides a cynical smile) but for your sakes I'll try to persuade him to alter his decision and refuse it.

JOHN (taking her arm). Come along then--now! I'll go with you to see fair play. (He opens the door, L, and Mrs. Culver passes out. Then stopping in the doorway, to Hildegarde) Who did the trick? I say--who did the trick?

HILDEGARDE (nicely). Pooh! You may be a prefect at school. But here you're only mamma's wee lamb! (She drops on to the sofa.)

JOHN (singing triumphantly). Stay--me--with fla--gons! (Exit John, L.)

Enter Tranto, back, shown in by the Parlourmaid.

TRANTO. How d'ye do, Miss Hilda. I'm in a high state of nerves.

HILDEGARDE (shaking hands weakly). We all are.

TRANTO (ignoring what she says). I've come specially to see you.

HILDEGARDE. But how did you know I should be here--at this time? I'm supposed to be at the Food Ministry till one o'clock?

TRANTO. I called for you at the Ministry.

HILDEGARDE (leaning forward). That's quite against the rules. The rules are made for the moral protection of the women-clerks.

TRANTO. They told me you'd left early.

HILDEGARDE. Why did you call?

TRANTO. Shall I be frank?

HILDEGARDE. Are you ever?

TRANTO. I wanted to walk home with you.

HILDEGARDE. Are you getting frightened about that next article of mine?

TRANTO. No. I've lost all interest in articles.

HILDEGARDE. Even in my articles?

TRANTO. Even in yours. I'm only interested in the writer of your articles. (Agitated.) Miss Hilda, the hour is about to strike.

HILDEGARDE. What hour?

TRANTO. Listen, please. Let me explain. The situation is this. Instinct has got hold of me. When I woke up this morning something inside me said: 'You must call at the Ministry for that young woman and walk home with her.' This idea seemed marvellously beautiful to me; it seemed one of the most enchanting ideas that had ever entered the heart of man. I thought of nothing else all the morning. When I reached the Ministry and you'd gone, I felt as if I'd been shot. Then I rushed here. If you hadn't been at home I don't know what I should have done. My fever has been growing every moment. Providentially you are here. I give you fair warning that I'm utterly in the grip of an instinct which is ridiculously unconventional and which will brook no delay. I repeat, the hour is about to strike.

HILDEGARDE (rousing herself). Before it actually strikes, I want to ask a question.

TRANTO. But that's just what I want to do.

HILDEGARDE. Please. One moment of your valuable time.

TRANTO. The whole of my life.

HILDEGARDE. Last night, why did you advise papa to give way to mamma and accept the baronetcy?

TRANTO. Did I?

HILDEGARDE. It seems so.

TRANTO. Well--er--

HILDEGARDE. You know it's quite against his principles, and against mine and Johnnie's, not to speak of yours.

TRANTO. The fact is, you yourself had given me such an account