Short Plays

He descends the steps into the auditorium and makes for the door, grumbling all the time. Insane, senseless extravagance! Barking. Worthlessness!! Muttering. I will not bear it any longer. Dresses, hats, furs, gloves, motor rides: one bill after another: money going like water. No restraint, no self-control, no decency. Shrieking. I say, no decency! Muttering again. Nice state of things we are coming to! A pretty world! But I simply will not bear it. She can do as she likes. I wash my hands of her: I am not going to die in the workhouse for any good-for-nothing, undutiful, spendthrift daughter; and the sooner that is understood by everybody the better for all par⁠—He is by this time out of hearing in the corridor.

The Play

A hotel sitting room. A table in the centre. On it a telephone. Two chairs at it, opposite one another. Behind it, the door. The fireplace has a mirror in the mantelpiece.

	A spinster Princess, hatted and gloved, is ushered in by the hotel manager, spruce and artifically bland by professional habit, but treating his customer with a condescending affability which sails very close to the east wind of insolence.
The Manager	I am sorry I am unable to accommodate Your Highness on the first floor.
The Princess	Very shy and nervous. Oh, please don’t mention it. This is quite nice. Very nice. Thank you very much.
The Manager	We could prepare a room in the annexe⁠—
The Princess	Oh no. This will do very well.
	She takes of her gloves and hat; puts them on the table; and sits down.
The Manager	The rooms are quite as good up here. There is less noise; and there is the lift. If Your Highness desires anything, there is the telephone⁠—
The Princess	Oh, thank you, I don’t want anything. The telephone is so difficult: I am not accustomed to it.
The Manager	Can I take any order? Some tea?
The Princess	Oh, thank you. Yes: I should like some tea, if I might⁠—if it would not be too much trouble.
	He goes out. The telephone rings. The Princess starts out of her chair, terrified, and recoils as far as possible from the instrument.
The Princess	Oh dear! It rings again. She looks scared. It rings again. She approaches it timidly. It rings again. She retreats hastily. It rings repeatedly. She runs to it in desperation and puts the receiver to her ear. Who is there? What do I do? I am not used to the telephone: I don’t know how⁠—What! Oh, I can hear you speaking quite distinctly. She sits down, delighted, and settles herself for a conversation. How wonderful! What! A lady? Oh! a person. Oh yes: I know. Yes, please, send her up. Have my servants finished their lunch yet? Oh no: please don’t disturb them: I’d rather not. It doesn’t matter. Thank you. What? Oh yes, it’s quite easy. I had no idea⁠—am I to hang it up just as it was? Thank you. She hangs it up.
	Ermyntrude enters, presenting a plain and staid appearance in a long straight waterproof with a hood over her headgear. She comes to the end of the table opposite to that at which the Princess is seated.
The Princess	Excuse me. I have been talking through the telephone: and I heard quite well, though I have never ventured before. Won’t you sit down?
Ermyntrude	No, thank you, Your Highness. I am only a lady’s maid. I understood you wanted one.
The Princess	Oh no: you mustn’t think I want one. It’s so unpatriotic to want anything now, on account of the war, you know. I sent my maid away as a public duty; and now she has married a soldier and is expecting a war baby. But I don’t know how to do without her. I’ve tried my very best; but somehow it doesn’t answer: everybody cheats me; and in the end it isn’t any saving. So I’ve made up my mind to sell my piano and have a maid. That will be a real saving, because I really don’t care a bit for music, though of course one has to pretend to. Don’t you think so?
Ermyntrude	Certainly I do, Your Highness. Nothing could be more correct. Saving and self-denial both at once; and an act of kindness to me, as I am out of place.
The Princess	I’m so glad you see it in that way. Er⁠—you won’t mind my asking, will you?⁠—how did you lose your place?
Ermyntrude	The war, Your Highness, the war.
The Princess	Oh yes, of course. But how⁠—
Ermyntrude	Taking out her handkerchief and showing signs of grief. My poor mistress⁠—
The Princess	Oh please say no more. Don’t think about it. So tactless of me to mention it.
Ermyntrude	Mastering her emotion and smiling through her tears. Your Highness is too good.
The Princess	Do you think you could be happy with me? I attach such importance to that.
Ermyntrude	Gushing. Oh, I know I shall.
The Princess	You must not expect too much. There is my uncle. He is very severe and hasty; and he is my guardian. I once had a maid I liked very much; but he sent her away the very first time.
Ermyntrude	The first time of what, Your Highness?
The Princess	Oh, something she did. I am sure she had never done it before; and I know she would never have done it again, she was so truly contrite and nice about it.
Ermyntrude	About what, Your Highness?
The Princess	Well, she wore my jewels and one of my dresses at a rather improper ball with her young man; and my uncle saw her.
Ermyntrude	Then he was at the ball too, Your Highness?
The Princess	Struck by the inference. I suppose he must have been. I wonder! You know, it’s very sharp of you to find that out. I hope you are not too sharp.
Ermyntrude	A lady’s maid has to be, Your Highness. She produces some