(Smith nods head sadly. He looks up and, on seeing Celia, starts with pleasurable surprise for a moment.)
Smith. Upon important and lugubrious business.
Celia. Oh-? Don't tell me there's some new difficulty about Mr. Tarver's election?
Smith. I have come to speak to you about one who is dearer to you than all the world. (Celia is perplexed.) As soon as I read the announcement in the "Times" this morning-I felt that I must come to you at once.
Celia. (Pause) The announcement! – in the "Times"! (She is startled. Stares at Smith.)
Smith. Of the death of Colonel Smith.
(Celia is amazed; turns away quickly.)
Celia. You will forgive me, I am sure, Colonel Vavasour, but the news of my loss is so recent that you will understand my reluctance to discuss it with a stranger. (She moves up toward morning room as though to exit.)
Smith. Don't go, please. (Celia turns back.) It was your sister who took the card which introduces me. (He takes up card from table L.) See!
(Celia advances L. of table R. and takes card.)
Celia. "Colonel Smith." But there wasn't any-I mean (Sits in chair.) Colonel Vavasour, I am a little overwhelmed.
Smith. (Sympathetically) I was afraid you would be.
Celia. (Staring at card) Colonel Smith!
Smith. I bring to you his last dying message.
Celia. You-knew-him!
Smith. (Comes to her) Turn that card over and read the last words written by his failing hand.
(Celia turns card over.)
Celia. "Good-bye."
Smith. Yes. (Sniffs. Very sadly) "Good-bye."
Celia. "Be kind to-my friend-"
Smith. "James Nugent-"
Celia. "Vavasour-"
Smith. Col. Smith was my dearest friend. And knowing myself as I do, I can safely say that no one else will ever take his place in my affections.
Celia. How extraordinary- (Smith looks at her.) I mean-how very unselfish of you.
Smith. Ah, yes. He compelled one's love. I can appreciate possibly better than any one else how great must be your grief. (Celia agrees mournfully and regards him with ludicrous suspicion. Goes to table L. and sits L. of it) Before coming here, I went to see his dear old people. He had never told them of his engagement, but he was always secretive.
Celia. Yes, very secretive.
Smith. His dear little Aunt Mary was very fond of him.
Celia. Oh! Little Aunt Mary!
Smith. And when I told her of your engagement, she was most anxious to meet you.
Celia. Yes, that would be very delightful-but not just yet, please-not just yet.
Smith. Not just yet, of course not just yet. But possibly when time has reconciled you to your loss. She expressed the hope that some day-but not just yet, of course, you and she might journey together to Somaliland with a wreath.
Celia. Yes. (Choking and turning away her head.) That's a very sweet idea. We might go out for the Xmas holidays.
Smith. Oh, I know. I can gauge, Miss Faraday, the measure of your grief by my own. But there is just one alleviation which I am very glad to bring to you.
Celia. What is that, please?
Smith. When Colonel Smith died-of wounds-at Berbera, he died without any pain.
Celia. (Rising, alarmed) It is very good of you, Colonel Vavasour, to have come all the way from London to tell me this. (Starts as if to exit, holding out her hand to Smith.)
(Smith also rises, takes her hand and detains her C.)
Smith. This-and more. I was with him at the last. How well I remember the scene. He used to lie on his sick bed-gazing across the thatched roofs of Berbera to the Arab dhows riding at their anchors in the sea. (She turns away R.) And he gave into my hands a few small things to bring you. (Celia turns away, horrified.) Trifles which he habitually wore. Here are a few of them. (Brings out packages containing watch and pin from pockets.)
Celia. Heavens!! No! – I couldn't think of taking them.
Smith. (In surprise, holding them towards Celia) They were Smith's, and you couldn't take them! Ah, I understand. You had quarreled. (Puts things into pockets.)
Celia. No, we never quarreled. There was never one harsh word spoken by me to him or by him to me.
Smith. (L.C. Standing) Then why refuse his gifts?
Celia. (Goes to table R. At a loss) Well-you see-he had never given me anything.
Smith. (Suddenly smiles and brings out parcels again) How like Smith! How very like him! Even he had his failings. But we, who knew him so well, can afford to speak of them frankly.
Celia. I don't think you understand, Colonel Vavasour. Gifts would have been impossible in such an engagement as that which existed between him and me.
Smith. (Severely) Let Smith be the judge of that. (Goes a step toward her) Perhaps he is in this room now watching you refuse his gifts. (Celia moves R., uneasily looking back over her shoulder. Sternly) Watching you with the pain he didn't feel when he died of wounds at Berbera. (He follows her and forces her to take the watch. She gingerly takes it and unwraps it, letting the watch fall out and hang by the chain, which she holds. It is a large, heavy gold watch of the "turnip" variety.) His watch and chain. (She lifts it up and down to show its weight.) He bids you wear it always on your bosom. (She recoils. Pleadingly) To please Smith, whom we both loved. (She looks helplessly about for a moment and then, in essaying to hang the watch about her neck, it slips and falls down inside her dress. They turn away from each other with varying emotions. Turning back) By Jove! I say that's ripping of you.
Celia. I beg your pardon, sir!
Smith. (Solemnly) I am thanking you in my dead comrade's name, my dearest friend. (Bows his head.)
Celia. (Crossing him to L.) Oh, I didn't understand.
Smith. (Unwraps second parcel and follows her across the stage) With this, Smith pinned his tie-a curious jewel. He was very fond of it. I trust you will treasure it. (Celia tries to refuse pin, but Smith forces it upon her. Goes through and empties all his pockets, offering cigarette case, knife, keys, etc.) And here I have a few more things.
Celia. (With a gesture of horror, retreats up stage to card room) No, no, no, no, please! I don't want them. I-
(Tarver enters through morning room in dinner jacket. He shows surprise at seeing Smith. Smith replaces articles in his pockets.)
Tarver. (At door R.) Oh, I am so sorry. I didn't know you were engaged. I think I left my election speech somewhere.
Celia. (Eagerly coming down C.) That's quite all right, Bobby. We have finished our business. Good-bye, Colonel Vavasour. It is extremely kind of you to have taken all this trouble for a stranger. (Crosses down R. as though to exit.)
(Tarver crosses to cabinet L. and gets his speech.)
Smith. (Follows Celia to L.C.) But I haven't delivered a single word of the message I am pledged to deliver.
Tarver. (Picks up speech and comes down L. of table to L. of Smith) I'm just going.
Smith. Don't let me drive you away, Mr. – Mr. – (Looks to Celia to introduce him to Tarver.)
(Celia has turned and walked up stage.)
Tarver. Oh, my name is Tarver.
Smith. And mine is Nugent Vavasour. How do you do? I am delighted to make your acquaintance. (Shakes hands with him warmly.) I have just met Miss Phyllis Faraday.
Tarver. Oh, have you?
Smith. Yes. I am just back from Somaliland.
Tarver. Are you? I say! I don't suppose you could stay a little longer and help me with my election, could you?
(Celia, in alarm, rushes to head of table and seizes railway guide.)
Smith. (Enthusiastically) Of course I could, my dear fellow. Why didn't you mention it before?
Tarver. Well, I haven't waited very long.
Celia. (Looking at railway guide) Bobby, we couldn't think of making such a demand upon Colonel Vavasour's time.
Tarver. Well, it's touch and go with me, you know.
Smith. And I know a great deal about elections.
Tarver. (To Celia) There!
Smith. Yes. I was once on the Committee of a Club.
(Tarver looks puzzled.)
Celia. (Looking at guide. Firmly) There's an excellent train leaving at eight-thirty. (Lays down guide, pushes chair aside and walks down R.C. between chair and table.)
Smith. I shall be most happy if I can catch it, but I should be false to my friend if I went without delivering his last dying message.
Tarver. You can't deliver it to-night, for Celia is going out to a dinner party.
(Celia gives Bobby a swift, furious glance behind Smith's back.)
Smith. (Shocked) To a dinner party?
Tarver. Why, yes, and on to a concert afterwards.
Celia. (With great dignity) It's a classical concert. (Pause.) By the local Philharmonic Society, and Admiral Grice, with whom we are all dining, is the most important person in the constituency.
Smith. (Sternly) So you are all going out to enjoy yourselves.
Tarver. (Crossing R. and up stage) Oh, they are. Phyllis and I for once are going to stay at home and dine quietly.
Smith. (Turns toward Tarver and stops him at door) But is it wise for you, Mr. Tarver, to stay at home at this very critical time? I should have thought, knowing as much as I do about elections, that it was bad policy to offend so important a person as Admiral Grice.
Tarver. (In doorway) Oh, that's all right. Celia can twist him around her little finger. He simply worships-
(Celia, who has made a ball of the tissue paper on the table, throws it at Bobby , who exits hurriedly without Smith's seeing this.)
Smith. (Sternly. Going to her) You never loved him.
Celia. (Indignantly. Moving R.) Oh!
Smith. On the evening of the very day which brings you news of his decease, you are dressed to conquer and allure.
Celia. (More indignant) Colonel Vavasour!
Smith. You know as well as I do how at all times Smith disapproved of a decollete gown. Born and brought up in a rigid and unbending family, he never quite emancipated himself from the principles of Calvinism. You know that? (He waits for her to answer.)
Celia. (Weakly. Sinks on stool at bottom of sofa) Yes.
Smith. (Looks at her) And it's not even black-! A dinner party with an amorous Admiral. After the dinner party, the wildest gaieties! (Goes L.)
Celia. Do you call a classical concert by the local Philharmonic Society "the wildest gaiety"? You never heard one.
Smith. (Reproachfully. Coming back to Celia) You know what a low opinion Smith had of all forms of music. Dangerously sensuous. How often have I heard him breathe those words when the regimental band struck up the tune of "Auld Lang Syne." (She rises; goes R.) You never loved him. Give me back the watch and chain.
Celia. (Confused) I can't- You utterly fail to understand the situation, Colonel Vavasour. All the help that any of us can give is needed at this election. To-night is particularly important. The two candidates are to meet on neutral ground.
Smith. Then certainly Mr. Tarver ought to go-not you.
Celia. But I ask you, would Colonel Smith have wished me at a time like this to shut myself alone In my room with nothing but his memory for my companion?
Smith. He'd have loved it.
Faraday. (Entering through morning room in evening dress, carrying coat and hat) Ready, Celia, ready! (Celia and Smith separate, Smith going well L. Faraday puts coat and hat on piano stool and comes down C.) Aren't the others down yet?
Celia. Father, this is Colonel Vavasour.
Faraday. How do you do? (They shake hands.)
Smith. How do you do? I have just returned from Somaliland.
Faraday. Oh! Then you knew-
(Smith nods; drops his head.)
Smith. My dearest friend.
Faraday. Poor fellow! Poor fellow! (Smith looks up.) Oh, not for that reason-not for that reason, of course. (Lady Trenchard, Madge and Phyllis enter, in evening dress, followed by Tarver.) My daughters, Colonel Vavasour. We are only waiting for your aunt now.
(Lady Trenchard shakes hands gushingly, crosses to Smith and sits R. of table L., drawing on her gloves. Madge merely bows as she crosses and joins Evelyn. Phyllis crosses, and joins them. Smith goes R.C. Faraday has gone L. at back and comes down stage L. of table L. Tarver goes directly and sits on fender.)
Faraday. (Continuing) Sorry we can't keep you to dinner.
Celia. (Sits on lower end of sofa) That's quite all right, Father. Colonel Vavasour is obliged to return to London to-night. There is an excellent train at eight-thirty.
Smith. (Takes up railway guide which Celia has left open on table and reads) "Stops at every station, has a two hours' wait at Bletchley, and arrives in London at three-thirty in the morning." (Looks at Celia) An excellent train. The express goes at ten.
Faraday. Then of course you'll stay and dine here first. Martin shall look after you.
Smith. I shall be most happy. (At Celia) I have brought a message for Miss Faraday and I shall be unable to deliver it if she goes out to dinner.
Celia. (Speaking over her shoulder) Father, you know I promised you this afternoon that I should not let this news interfere-
Faraday. But, my dear child, thinking it over, we can't expect such a sacrifice.
Phyllis. (In a whisper to Madge) But she must go. There's only dinner for two.
Faraday. Dinner for two! What two?
Tarver. (Coming down R. to door) Well, you see, I am worn to a shadow, and Phyllis and I thought-
Faraday. (Coming C.) Oh, you did! Did you? You get elected first, my lad, and think afterwards.
Tarver. Oh, I say!
Faraday. Phyllis and Tarver shall dine with Admiral Grice.
Phyllis. But, Father-
Faraday. Celia and Colonel Vavasour shall stay behind and eat their dinner.
Tarver. You don't know how I need a rest.
Celia. Yes, Father, Bobby is very tired.
Smith. As for myself, and I know a great deal about elections, I think it would be extremely prejudical if Mr. Tarver didn't go.
Faraday. Then that settles it.
(Tarver exits R.IE., looking back belligerently at Colonel Vavasour. Evelyn in dumb show tells Phyllis to get her wraps, and Phyllis flounces out through morning room.)
Martin. (Entering L.I and announcing) Mr. Steele and Mr. Raleigh.
(Raleigh comes C. quickly to Faraday. Steele, shaking hands first with Evelyn, then stepping back and shaking hands with Madge, speaks from L. of Madge near door.)
Steele. How do you do, Mr. Faraday?
Faraday. Good evening, boys.
Steele. We have both, I believed, arrived with the same idea. We are all going to the dinner party, aren't we? I have my mother's brougham and, since you are rather a large party-(Looking across at Celia) – I thought I might be allowed to give some one a lift.
Raleigh. I have come in my own motor car, and since you are rather a large party-(Also looking pointedly at Celia) – I thought I might be allowed to give some one a lift.
Faraday. It is very kind of you boys to think of us. We shall be a little bit squeezed. We are rather a large party, though Celia is not going.
Steele and Raleigh. (Disappointedly) Not going?
Faraday. No. Colonel Smith is dead. (Steele and Raleigh turn away and a slow smile breaks over their faces.) This is Colonel Vavasour. (Steele and Raleigh eye Smith with interest.) He knew Colonel Smith.
Smith. (L. of table R.) His dearest friend. I bring his last dying message. (Celia rises from sofa, glances at Smith and goes up to doorway R.) He used to lie on his sickbed, gazing across the thatched roofs of Berbera to the Arab dhows riding at their anchors in the sea.
(Celia comes down R. of sofa.)
Steele. I am sure that must be very affecting, but it will be extremely bad for the cause if Miss Faraday stays at home to-night, and this is a time when it doesn't do for any of us to be selfish. You'll come, won't you, Miss Faraday?
Faraday, (C.) Certainly not.
Smith. (R.C.) It would really be almost indecent to press Miss Faraday to go. (Smith and Faraday turn up stage.)
Steele. (Slightly piqued) Oh, very well. Then as I can't do anything for anyone, I suppose I had better be getting along. (Exits L.IE. and leaves door open.)
Raleigh. How that fellow Steele does give himself away. Silly ass! (Goes R. to Celia.) I must say, Miss Faraday, that I think you are absolutely right to stay away from the Admiral's. The way that old man dogs your footsteps is positively revolting, but-(With insinuating smile, kneeling on stool below sofa. Fatuously) – but you might come on to the Philharmonic Concert afterwards. Don't you think so? (Laughs idiotically.) Don't you think so?
Celia. (Shaking her head sadly) Not to-night, Mr. Raleigh. Not to-night. (Exits R.IE.)
Raleigh. Oh, very well. It's about time for me to be getting along. (Crosses quickly to door L.) I shall see you all at the Admiral's, (Exits quickly, closing door.)
Faraday. God bless my soul! I thought he came to give some of us a lift. Madge and Evelyn. Why, yes.
(Aunt Ida enters quickly through morning room and comes down R.C., looking about her.)
Aunt Ida. (Gayly) Hope I am not last.
Faraday. Well, you are.
(Phyllis and Tarver enter, Tarver in evening dress with his hat and overcoat and atlas. Phyllis with her wraps. Tarver goes to head of table R. and studies his atlas. Phyllis sits on fender.)
Aunt Ida. (Looking about and fastening her gloves) Well, Celia is not down yet.
Madge. Celia isn't coming.
Aunt Ida. What!
(Smith comes down stage to L. of Aunt Ida.)
Faraday. (Coming down L.C. with Smith) Ida, this is Colonel Vavasour. My sister-in-law, Mrs. Chisholm Faraday. (To Smith) Who has been, I may say, more than a mother to our poor Celia through all this, more than a mother.
Smith. I am delighted to make your acquaintance. (Shakes her warmly by the hand.) Friends of Miss Faraday have a claim upon me which can never be obliterated from my mind.
Aunt Ida. (Briskly) I am sure it is very pleasant to know that. But why?
(Smith C., Aunt Ida to his right.)
Faraday. Colonel Vavasour has just returned from Somaliland.
Aunt Ida. (In horror) What!!
Madge. From Somaliland.
Aunt Ida. (Involuntarily) But why did he do that?
(Smith looks at Faraday.)
Faraday. Eh? – I don't think you understand, Ida. Colonel Vavasour is here-I may say-on an errand of mercy. He brings us news of our poor-gallant-lost friend-Smith.
Aunt Ida. S-S-Smith-?
Faraday. Colonel Smith.
Madge. Celia's Colonel Smith.
Tarver. (Coming C. at back with atlas, beckoning to Faraday, who joins him, and together they look over the atlas, Faraday explaining something to Tarver) Colonel Vavasour knew him quite well.
Aunt Ida. (In awestruck voice) You-knew-the-Co-Co-Colonel?
Smith. My dearest friend. I bring to Miss Faraday a few trinkets he habitually wore and his last dying message.
Aunt Ida. (Wildly. Stands rigidly, staring at Smith) Trinkets!! A message!! (During the following speech, Aunt Ida gradually becomes more and more hysterical, culminating in a series of wild shrieks of hysterical laughter and grotesque movements of her arms and body.)
Smith. A long message. He used to lie in his sickbed, gazing across the thatched roofs of Berbera to the Arab dhows, riding at their anchors in the sea, and-
(Aunt Ida, by now, is shrieking wildly and waving her arms above. Madge runs frightened across the L. of Aunt Ida and Phyllis runs down from fender to R. of Aunt Ida, and together they help her into chair to L. of table R. Tarver and Faraday look up suddenly, startled. Smith goes up L.C., concealing laughter. Phyllis stands R. of chair below sofa, trying to hold Aunt Ida's hand. Evelyn runs excitedly and aimlessly about, looking for smelling salts. Faraday runs up and down extreme L., waving his arms. Madge above chair, fanning Aunt Ida. Tarver C., fanning Aunt Ida with atlas. He kneels and fans her more vigorously. They all talk excitedly to each other, such as, "What has happened to your Aunt Ida?" "God bless my soul, can't you do something for your aunt?" "She is having a fit," "Go for a doctor," "Fan her, fan her," "Get some water," etc., etc. During all this, Aunt Ida is still shrieking.)
Phyllis. (At a signal from Aunt Ida) The shock has been too much for her.
Madge. She's so devoted to Celia.
(Aunt Ida whoops.)
Faraday. Get some vinegar.
(Aunt Ida whoops.)
Evelyn. No, smelling salts.
(Aunt Ida whoops.)
Tarver. (Rising) Oh, hold it upside down!
Faraday. Nonsense, that's for drowning.
Tarver. Here, I know a remedy.
(Madge takes Tarver's place at L. of choir and Tarver goes up above chair, gets spray from table, leans over Aunt Ida's shoulder and sprays her forehead.)
Smith. (Comes down C.) Slap her hands hard. That always brings them to.
(Phyllis and Madge slap Aunt Ida's hands vigorously.)
Aunt Ida. (Pushing them away) It doesn't do anything of the kind.
(Madge goes L.C. and helps Evelyn on with evening wraps.)
Smith. There, what did I tell you? (Goes up stage and to table L.)
(Tarver goes R. above sofa. Phyllis goes R. between sofa and fender.)
Aunt Ida. (Rises weakly) Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh! This must be broken to Celia.
Faraday. (Going up and getting his coat and hat from piano stool) Celia already knows.
Phyllis. (Pouting) She and Colonel Vavasour are going to stay home and dine together. (Goes up to Tarver and talks.)
Aunt Ida. (Gasping) Dine together!! And discuss S-S-Smith!! (Celia enters in mourning-black shawl and dress-door R.I. She closes door, comes a few steps on stage and stands with folded hands and downcast eyes. Aunt Ida is now thoroughly bewildered.) Celia, you're in black! (Waves her hand up and down weakly.)
Celia. Yes, dear. I made a mistake when I said I shouldn't allow this news to interfere. I was wrong. Colonel Vavasour has shown me how deeply he was grieved by my neglect of the trappings of distress.
(Note: The bodice of the black dress Celia wears, which is completely hidden by the black shawl, should be of some bright color, to be disclosed in Act III.)
Aunt Ida. (With a long wail) Will somebody pinch me, please? (Sits.)
Tarver. (Coming to foot of sofa and kneeling) Let me do it for you, won't you?
(Martin enters through L.I with army list on tray. Comes to Faraday.)
Aunt Ida. Certainly not.
Tarver. (Rising and going back to head of sofa) So sorry.
Martin. The wagonette is at the door, sir.
(Evelyn and Madge cross to door L., bidding goodnight to Colonel Smith, and exit.)
Faraday. Very well, what have you got there, Martin?
Martin. Another army list, sir.
Smith. (Above table L.C. Seeing army list) Oh, damn!
Faraday. All right. Put it on the table. (Martin puts army list on table, crosses R. and exits through morning room, turning on lights in morning room.) Now then, off we go. (Counting) One, two, three, four. (To Phyllis and Tarver) No hanging behind, you two. (Tarver and Phyllis cross quickly L. to door.) Got your atlas, Tarver?
Tarver. Yes, sir.
(Phyllis and Tarver exit, nodding good-night to Colonel Smith.)
Faraday. Then off we go. (Coming down to Aunt Ida's chair, helping her up and supporting her. Aunt Ida, who is now in a thoroughly demoralised condition, weakly and brokenly emits little gasps. The feathers in her hair have fallen over one eye. She also shows other traces of her recent fit. Faraday lifts her up, puts his arm around her waist and leads her across the stage, Faraday above her. Celia follows her as far as chair R. of table L., where she remains.) Come along, Ida. This has been a little too much for you. Nothing like fresh air for an attack like yours. You will be all right when you get out in the fresh air. (Aunt Ida crosses with him quickly, but haltingly, still emitting little gasps. When she gets almost to the door, she looks back at Celia's dress, and with a final burst, exits. Faraday at door) My daughter will appreciate these quiet, I may say, these holy hours-with you, Colonel Vavasour.
Smith. (Comes down L.C.) I appreciate them, sir.
(Faraday exits L.IE., closing door after him. Martin enters through morning room.)
Martin. Dinner is served. Miss. (Exits through morning room.)
(Clock off L., upper, chimes eight.)
Smith. Eight!
Celia. And your train goes at ten.
Smith. Yes. We shall have two long hours to talk of Smith. (Offers Celia his arm. Celia takes it and they go slowly up to morning room.)