Act IV
Seven weeks later. The drawing-room as in Act II. Georgiana, in a clinging black lace dress, is at the piano, playing “Traumerei.” The sunshine pours in through the windows. Moles comes in apologetically from the Left.
Moles. Mr. Coast wants to know if you will see him, miss.
Georgiana. [Who continues playing.] Very well, Moles.
Moles. Shall I show him up?
[Georgiana nods her head. Moles goes out. Georgiana continues playing. In a few seconds Moles reënters with Coast.
Coast. Good morning, Georgiana.
[Georgiana, half smiling, bows very impersonally, and continues playing till she finishes the music. Coast leans against the piano, facing her, and watches her and waits.
Georgiana. [When she has finished.] How long is it since you and I have been friends?
Coast. It’s five weeks and a couple of days—but it wasn’t my fault.
Georgiana. Wasn’t it? Well? What is it? Why do you want to see me?
Coast. Same reason as ever!
Georgiana. No,—you wouldn’t ask me that now!
Coast. Yes, I would!
Georgiana. No, Sam! Love isn’t a game with all women, if you lose with one hand, to try another. Do you mean you think because Dick is dead, it would be any more possible for me to care for you? I don’t respect you, Sam, and I don’t like you,—and that’s putting it very politely,—for many reasons; but one’s enough—Steve!
[Coast looks away.
Coast. [After a second’s pause.] I’ve let you go on because I know I deserve all I get; and I’ve caught on to the fact that you won’t ever care about me the way I want. Well, it’s funny, it don’t seem to make much difference in my feelings for you all the same! [Half laughs.] I ain’t exactly ashamed of what I’ve done, but I’m sort of sorry—for you.
Georgiana. [Rising.] I don’t want your sympathy, Sam.
[She comes away from the piano and he follows her.
Coast. Well, you’ve got to get it, anyway! That you can’t help, and if you can help loving me, you can’t help my loving you! Anyway, I don’t want you to have to get out o’ this house.
Georgiana. That is all settled now; we can’t afford to live here, of course.
Coast. Yes, you can.
Georgiana. No, no—Steve’s salary—
Coast. Steve’s leaving that job; he don’t need that money any longer.
[He looks at her, she looks in his face—a short pause; then—
Georgiana. You don’t mean you’ve given Steve—
Coast. Don’t worry, I’m giving away nothing. Steve’s got a new job.
Georgiana. What?
Coast. I’m going home—leastways so far’s Denver—and Steve’s going to look after my interests here.
Georgiana. But—
Coast. [Interrupting her.] Oh, don’t worry—he can’t act without my advice—and that’s just the kind of a man I want! I don’t want none of these here fellers who’s got judgment o’ their own! Steve’s knows he’s a fool in business, and he’ll obey me implicitly.
Georgiana. [Sitting by the table Left.] And Steve is willing to accept from you—
Coast. [Interrupting.] Oh, I guess he considers I owe him that much anyway.
Georgiana. You couldn’t repay what you owe Steve.
Coast. That’s how you look at it! Then there’s Coleman’s money.
Georgiana. Don’t speak about that, please.
Coast. Why not? he’s left it to you, everybody knows it, and it must be a good deal.
Georgiana. I can’t and won’t discuss that with you.
Coast. [Goes to Georgiana.] I wish you didn’t feel so hard against me, Georgy!
Georgiana. To tell you the truth, Sam, I don’t think I feel anything about you.
Coast. Oh, Lord, that’s worse! I guess I won’t stop at Denver,—I’ll go away out to the mine for a while and join father.—Good-by.
Georgiana. Good-by.
[Rises.
Coast. I swore off a lot of things when I thought I was going to get you, Georgiana!
Georgiana. [Without any feeling.] I’m glad!
Coast. But I don’t want to put on any bluff. I’ve sworn ’em all on again.
[Going Left.
Georgiana. [Same voice, without feeling.] I’m sorry.
Coast. [Turning quickly and with an absurd ray of hope.] Are you really?
Georgiana. [Looking at him a second.] No, Sam, I suppose, if I tell the truth, I don’t really care. You see, somehow or other, I don’t care very much about anything.
Coast. [Discouraged.] Good-by.
Georgiana. Good-by, a pleasant journey.
[She turns away. Coast is about to go when he meets Louise, who enters Left.
Louise. Good morning, Sam. Where are you off to?
[Going to the sofa.
Coast. Chicago first, Lou, and then Denver, and eventually—hell, I guess!
[With a little gulp in his throat he goes out quickly.
Louise. What’s the matter with him—he hasn’t proposed to you again?
Georgiana. He’s going away, and he’s made Steve—
Louise. [Interrupting.] I’ve just seen Steve, he’s told me. Steve’s coming uptown soon—to see you—
Georgiana. [Sitting on the sofa beside Louise.] To see me—why?
Louise. He’ll tell you better than I—I feel happy, Georgiana.
Georgiana. I’m glad.
Louise. And I believe you’ll be happy again.
Georgiana. Thank you, Louise!
[Mrs. Carley enters Right and sits by the table.
Mrs. Carley. You back, Louise! I’m that tired, shopping. I’m buying everything I can think of we’ll be likely to need for months. There’ll be no pleasure buying things when, instead of having them sent to 2 East 71st Street, we have to say 329 West 143rd!
Georgiana. [Rises and goes back of the table.] Mother, dear, you may not have to leave here after all!
Mrs. Carley. What do you mean?
Georgiana. Louise will tell you. I’ve promised to sit through lunch with the children this morning if you don’t mind, and it’s their hour.
Mrs. Carley. But, Georgiana—
[She is interrupted by a gesture and a glance from Louise to let Georgiana go.
Georgiana. [Sweetly.] Yes? Do you want me for anything, dear?
[Louise repeats the gesture, unnoticed by Georgiana.
Mrs. Carley. Oh, no.
Georgiana. If you want me—
Mrs. Carley. No.
Georgiana. Louise, I told Bella Shindle I’d help her get up an article this morning on the drawing-room and dining room for her sister,—you know—who has a friend who writes for the weekly papers. You don’t mind, do you?
Louise. No.
Georgiana. Of course, if you do mind—
Louise. But I don’t, not the least in the world.
Georgiana. [Smiling.] Bella says it will be a great thing for her sister’s reputation—what she calls such a “select” house as ours—and buy her a new hat besides. So I thought we’d better.
[She goes out Right.
Mrs. Carley. Did you ever know any one so changed? She hasn’t been horrid to me once since he died. It makes me feel perfectly dreadful to have her treat me so nice.
[Almost crying, crosses to Left.
Louise. Mother, you know Mrs. Coleman sent for me just now.
Mrs. Carley. Yes?
Louise. Well, why, do you suppose?
Mrs. Carley. I don’t know, but I hope you’ll tell me that, too, sometime—what about Steve?
Louise. That must wait, mother—Dick Coleman—
Mrs. Carley. What? Don’t tell me he made another will, and didn’t leave Georgiana his money.
Louise. No, it’s good news for Georgiana. I’m almost as afraid to tell you as to tell her. [Whispers.] Dick Coleman may be alive, after all.
Mrs. Carley. Louise!
Louise. It is possible he was one of the three men who arrived at San Francisco nearly a week ago.
Mrs. Carley. Who were taken prisoners by the Ladrones and escaped?
Louise. Yes! The three men who got away from Cebú in a boat and were picked up by a German steamer. It seems more than probable. They got one name wrong in the despatches, making it “Richard Cotten”—who was also missing—instead of “Richard Coleman.”
Mrs. Carley. But how did you find out all this?
Louise. From Mrs. Coleman. And it’s all in the morning paper, and we never took the trouble to look!
Mrs. Carley. I read the society notes—it wasn’t in there.
Louise. Well, the Colemans saw it and telegraphed at once to Washington for confirmation.
Mrs. Carley. Did they get it?
Louise. Not yet. But we’re all in the greatest hopes!
Mrs. Carley. But if Dick Coleman was with those other men in San Francisco, why didn’t he telegraph home?
Louise. That’s the one thing that makes still a dreadful doubt. [Rises and rings the bell.] The Colemans are nearly mad waiting for their reply from Washington.
Mrs. Carley. Shall you tell Georgiana?
[She rises.
Louise. Not till we are a little more certain. It would be dreadful to open the wound of her grief again for nothing. Oh, if it’s only true!
Mrs. Carley. And you’ve seen Steve?
Louise. Yes, he went off at once to the newspaper to see how authentic their information was, and then he was going on to the Colemans. [Moles enters Left in answer to the bell.] Moles, bring me the morning paper.
Moles. [Unable to suppress his excitement.] I’ve read it, m’m! We’re all nearly crazy over it downstairs. Lizzie’s took to crying and can’t answer her bells.—Is it true, Mrs. Carley?
Louise. Yes, we hope it’s true, Moles.
Moles. Thank God, m’m, if you’ll excuse me!
Louise. But we’re not sure yet, and you mustn’t let anything drop before Miss Georgiana till we are certain.
Moles. No, m’m.
[He goes out.
Mrs. Carley. Oughtn’t we to give Georgiana a hint to prepare her in some way?
Louise. Perhaps, if we do it very carefully.
Mrs. Carley. It seems awful to me not to tell her right out. Of course we won’t have Dick Coleman’s money to help live on now, if he’s back.
Louise. Never mind that, mother.
[Moles returns with the paper.
Moles. Here is the paper, m’m, and Miss Shindle is come—she says to interview the drawing-room.
Louise. Very well—tell Miss Georgiana.
Moles. Yes, m’m.
[Goes out Right. Louise looks through the paper. Moles brings in Bella. Bella shows signs of suppressed excitement.
Bella. Oh, Mrs. Carley, have you seen the papers—isn’t it splendid?
Louise. Yes, if it’s only true. We’re trying to make sure!
[Louise finds the place in the paper.
Mrs. Carley. [Rising.] She doesn’t know yet.
Bella. Oh, Mrs. Carley!
Louise. We’re waiting to be sure, and that we may be almost any minute.
Bella. Mercy! I don’t see how you can keep it to yourself.
Mrs. Carley. You might give her a little hint, Bella, if you get a chance.
Bella. I wouldn’t dare. If I opened my mouth wide enough to give her a hint, I know it would all burst out!
Louise. As soon as Mr. Carley comes, make an excuse to leave her, won’t you? We expect him to bring us some definite news?
Bella. Yes, indeed!
[Mrs. Carley and Louise go out Left, as Georgiana comes in.
Georgiana. [Pleasantly.] Good morning, Bella.
[She sits by the table.
Bella. Good morning, ain’t it a fine morning?
Georgiana. Is it? I haven’t been out.
Bella. I’m scared to death. [Laughing nervously.] I ain’t going to write the article myself, you know. It’s my sister’s husband’s friend—she’s real literary enough! She’s got a typewriter.
Georgiana. One can’t do everything in this world, Bella, and you must be content with being a real artiste in your own profession.
Bella. Yes, I will say without boasting, so to speak, I don’t believe there’s a soul in New York who can make hair go further and wear less, than me! [Laughs heartily.] What’s this room? Of course it’s one of them Louis, I suppose, ain’t it? [Looks around the room.] Let me see, is it Louis Eleventimes? I saw Henry Irving in that, it was fine!
Georgiana. No, Bella, Henry Irving has never been in this room, and it’s Louis XVI.
Bella. Oh, of course! [Writing.] How well you’re looking, Miss Georgiana. Look to me kinder as if you thought good news was in the wind!
[She glances at her surreptitiously, but down again quickly, frightened.
Georgiana. Why, Bella?
Bella. Oh, that’s just my idea, that’s all. What might this picture be? Shall we say—er—er—Michael Ange?
Georgiana. [Suppressing a smile.] No, that is a Van Dyck.
Bella. Of course! I might have known! [Writing.] This entire room is a fine bit, ain’t it? All Louis—[She looks back in her book.] 16, as a piece, I suppose?
Georgiana. Yes.
Bella. So I see! My! How I love all this kind of thing. I couldn’t live without a lot o’ bric-a-brah lying around sort of careless like and undusted. These tapestries are real, I presume?
Georgiana. Yes.
Bella. I thought so! I got a beautiful piece of tapestry over my washstand, hand-painted, and all the faces and clothes outlined in chenille cross-stitch by the Singer Sewing Machine—but it’s not quite the same as yours.
Georgiana. It must be very pretty.
Bella. Oh, it adds a touch! Mr. Gootch gave it to me for an engagement present.
Georgiana. Does Mr. Gootch ever speak of Mr. Coleman?
Bella. He worships him—naturally, as Mr. Coleman got wounded in both arms carrying him to a safe place! Mr. Gootch says as there wasn’t a man in the regiment braver or as popular as Mr. Coleman. Don’t you think, perhaps, sometimes, maybe, Miss Georgiana—
[She stops near Georgiana.
Georgiana. Maybe what—?
Bella. Oh, I dunno—I—
Georgiana. [Rising and going to the sofa.] Come, Bella, we must get on with your article.
[A pause.
Bella. [Looking about.] Why, you haven’t got a cosy corner, have you? And yet you seem to go in for the real artistic! I don’t know what my sister ’n’ I’d do without our cosy corner! It is draped with a fish net, and has paper butterflies and beetles in it! Very artistic! And she’s got—well, really now, I believe she’s got at least eleven pillers; counting the two ticking ones that has their covers come off at night for our bed!
Georgiana. [Rising nervously.] Bella, I have some colored dresses I’d like to give you for your trousseau, if you care to take them. They’ve not been worn very much.
Bella. Oh, Miss Georgiana, of course I’d take ’em—only, I don’t know, I sort of feel it in my bones you’ll wear ’em yourself.
[Steven enters Left suddenly. He tries to conceal his great excitement. Moles is with him.
Steven. [To Moles.] Tell Mrs. Carley I want to see her here, please.
Moles. Yes, sir.
[He goes out Right.
Steven. Hello, Georgy!
Georgiana. Steve!
Steven. Good morning, Miss Shindle.
Bella. Good morning, Mr. Carley. I must be going now, Miss Georgiana.
Georgiana. But have you got enough for the article?
Bella. Oh, yes, miss—Louise furniture, the Van Wyck picture, tapestry effects—etcetra. Thank you ever so much. Good-by!
Georgiana. Wait, I’ll tell you about the dining room.
[She goes out with Bella Left, and Louise enters.
Steven. Louise, it’s true!
Louise. Oh, Steve!
Steven. It was a press telegram and has been verified by private wire. Besides, Mrs. Coleman has a telegram from Dick himself.
Louise. From where?
Steven. From San Francisco, when the Colemans were at Palm Beach. Their servants foolishly mailed the telegram to them, and before it arrived in Florida, they were on their way North, coming by easy stages.
Louise. [Rises.] And the message only just caught up with them! Who will tell her?
[Moles comes in Left with a note.
Moles. A note just come for you, sir, by Mr. Coleman’s man.
Steven. We must break it very gently, prepare her a little for it if we can. [To Moles.] Thanks. [Takes note, opens it, and reads it hurriedly.] He’s there! With his father and mother!
Moles. [Forgetting himself.] Oh, sir—I’m so glad! Excuse me, sir, but we’re all so glad, sir—any answer sir?
[His eyes fill up.
Steven. No, only tell Miss Georgiana I want to see her.
Moles. [Who has to swallow a lump in his throat before he can speak.] Yes, sir.
[He goes out Right.
Louise. [Wiping her eyes, goes to Steven.] What does it say?
Steven. [Reads the note.] “Dick and the answer from Washington arrived together!” He’ll be over here at once—they won’t keep him.
Louise. We must tell her before he gets here.
Steven. Yes.
Louise. We must do it very carefully.
Steven. But we mustn’t lose any time.
[Georgiana comes in during this last speech, overhearing it. A movement is made by others on Georgiana’s entrance.
Georgiana. “Losing time!” Am I keeping you from anything? I’m very sorry!
Louise. [Very tenderly, and hiding her emotion.] No, you’re not keeping us, Georgy, we only wanted to see you, that’s all.
Georgiana. [Going to her.] Why?
Steven. [Also very tenderly.] Do we have to have a reason to want to see you, isn’t that we love you enough?
Georgiana. Yes, but why do you speak to me like this?—it’s very kind of you—only—what does it mean?
[Smiling a little nervously, they hesitate.
Louise. Steve has news for you, Georgy.
Georgiana. I know about it, Coast told me.
Steven. It isn’t that, Georgy.
Georgiana. What is it, then? How serious you both look.
[She becomes frightened.
Steven. This is good news.
Georgiana. Good news!
Louise. Yes.
Steven. The best in the world!
Georgiana. For me?
Steven. For you!
Georgiana. [A second’s pause, she speaks then in a low voice.] No, it can’t be! It can’t be!
Steven. Yes, it is, Georgy!
Georgiana. No!
Steven. Georgy! It is!
[Moles enters Left.
Moles. [With voice full of happy emotion which he cannot disguise.] Please, sir—
[He hesitates.
Steven. Show him here, Moles.
[Moles lowers his head and goes out.
Georgiana. Dick—?
[She looks from Steven to Louise. They all show her by their faces and movements that it is true.
Georgiana. [Whispers.] Dick!
[She stands waiting, breathless. Steven steals out with his arm about Louise.
Georgiana. [Excitedly, to herself.] Come! No, no! It can’t be true! It can’t be true! They killed him, those brutes out there! You told me so! Every one believed it! I believed it! And so you want me to believe he’s alive! That he’s here! In this house, coming into this room—that I shall see—
[She stops suddenly, looking up. The door-knob of the door Left turns. Every nerve in Georgiana’s body grows tense. Moles opens the door and lets Dick pass in and closes the door behind him.
Georgiana. [Cries out.] Dick!
[Dick goes towards her, but stops. She starts towards him, stops a moment, and they look at each other, unable to speak,—then she goes on slowly, almost fearfully, till she reaches him.
Dick. [Moving to her.] Georgy!
[He stands before her with both arms bandaged in a sling.
Georgiana. [Whispers.] Dick! [Looks him straight in the eyes—he looks back. She cries out.] Dick!
[Holding out her arms toward him.
Dick. Georgy! [He looks down at his arms.] My arms—I can’t—
Georgiana. Oh, Dick!
[And putting her arms tenderly about his neck, she holds him close, as he leans down his head and kisses her, and
the curtain falls