LITMIR.BIZ

      THE FIRST ACT

       Table of Contents

      The Scene represents a drawing-room in Mrs. Emptage’s house near Regent’s Park. At the back are double doors, opening on to a further drawing-room, and these face a window, over which the blinds are drawn, to moderate the glare of the sun, which nevertheless streams through them, for it is a fine afternoon in early summer. The rooms are furnished and decorated in a costly and tasteful fashion.

      Mrs. Emptage is reclining upon the settee, her eyes closed, a bottle of smelling-salts in her hand. Justina is pacing the room between the door and the window. Mrs. Emptage is a pretty, carefully-preserved woman with dyed hair and “touched-up” face: she is old enough to be the mother of a daughter of nine-and-twenty. Justina is of that age, good-looking, “smart,” and already somewhat passé. Both are fashionably but sombrely dressed.

      Mrs. Emptage.

      Tell me the time once more, ’Tina.

      Justina.

      [Referring to her watch.] A few minutes to four, mother.

      Mrs. Emptage.

      Does the judge of the Divorce Court invariably rise at four o’clock?

      Justina.

      He may sit a little later under special circumstances.

      Mrs. Emptage.

      To have done with a case if it’s very near its end?

      Justina.

      So I’m told.

      Mrs. Emptage.

      They must all be here soon, whether that happens or not.

      Justina.

      Yes, yes. Oh, but if the confounded thing should last into another day!

      Mrs. Emptage.

      A third day’s suspense will kill me.

      Justina.

      Ma, I suppose, really, we ought to be reading our Church Services or something.

      Mrs. Emptage.

      I can’t concentrate my attention in the least; I have been glancing at “The Yellow Book.”

      Justina.

      Hark! what’s that?

      Mrs. Emptage.

      I don’t hear anything.

      Justina.

      It is somebody!

      [Horton, a manservant, appears.

      Horton.

      Mrs. Quinton Twelves.

      Mrs. Emptage struggles to her feet as Mrs. Quinton Twelves enters. Horton retires. Kate Twelves is a lively, handsome young woman, brightly dressed.

      Justina and Mrs. Emptage.

      [Throwing themselves upon her.] Kitty!

      Mrs. Quinton Twelves.

      [Kissing them.] Well, well, well, well!

      Justina.

      Is it over?

      Mrs. Quinton Twelves.

      Not quite; that is, it wasn’t when I came away. It’s all over by now, I expect.

      Mrs. Emptage.

      [Hysterically.] Oh, Kitty——!

      Mrs. Quinton Twelves.

      Sssh, sssh! everything has gone swimmingly, I tell you.

      Justina.

      For Theophila?

      Mrs. Quinton Twelves.

      Of course, for Theophila.

      Mrs. Emptage.

      [Sinking back on to the settee.] I felt sure it would.

      Justina.

      But what was happening when you left?

      Mrs. Quinton Twelves.

      The dear old judge was just beginning to deliver his decision—his judgment.

      Justina.

      Oh, how could you come away then?

      Mrs. Quinton Twelves.

      Certainly, it was a wrench. Only, Theo wrote little notes to Sir Fletcher Portwood and to Claude and me. [Taking a screw of paper from her glove.glove.] Here’s mine. [Reading.] “I won’t have anybody I am fond of, except my husband, in Court at the finish. They tell me they are sure I am cleared, but it frightens me to think you are all waiting. Go to mother’s.”

      Mrs. Emptage.

      [Taking the note.] My poor child! [Reading it.] “… they are sure I am cleared. …” ’Tina, she’s cleared!

      Mrs. Quinton Twelves.

      Cleared! I wish you could have heard Sir John Clarkson’s opening speech for Theophila this morning. There was quite a murmur of approval when he sat down.

      Justina.

      He let that wretch, Mrs. Jack Allingham, have it—eh? He did!

      Mrs. Quinton Twelves.

      He said that a morbidly jealous wife is one of the saddest spectacles the world presents; but that when her jealousy leads her to attempt to blacken the reputation, the hitherto spotless reputation, of another woman—in this instance, a young lady more happily married than herself—then that jealous wife becomes a positive danger to society.

      Mrs. Emptage.

      I ought to have been there, ’Tina. I said it was my duty, if you remember.

      Justina.

      I might have gone.

      Mrs. Quinton Twelves.

      Certainly; and yet you have both sat at home, quaking; behaving, for all the world, as if you have a lurking suspicion that Theophila really may—really has—really did——

      Mrs. Emptage.

      Kate, I will not permit you to say such a thing!

      Mrs. Quinton Twelves.

      Why these miserable-looking gowns then? You are dressed more funereally to-day than you were yesterday!

      Mrs. Emptage.

      [Tearfully.] If you live to see a daughter of yours, however innocent she may be, dragged through the Divorce

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