Getting Married

quite done talking about yourselves, we shall get to whatever business Sinjon came about. Hotchkiss Coming off the table hastily. My dear fellow. I beg a thousand pardons. Oh! true, It’s about the wedding? The General What about the wedding? Hotchkiss Well, we can’t get our man up to the scratch. Cecil has locked himself in his room and won’t see or speak to anyone. I went up to his room and banged at the door. I told him I should look through the keyhole if he didn’t answer. I looked through the keyhole. He was sitting on his bed, reading a book. Reginald rises in consternation. The General recoils. I told him not to be an ass, and so forth. He said he was not going to budge until he had finished the book. I asked him did he know what time it was, and whether he happened to recollect that he had a rather important appointment to marry Edith. He said the sooner I stopped interrupting him, the sooner he’d be ready. Then he stuffed his fingers in his ears; turned over on his elbows; and buried himself in his beastly book. I couldn’t get another word out of him; so I thought I’d better come here and warn you. Reginald This looks to me like they’ve arranged it between them. The Bishop No. Edith has no sense of humor. And I’ve never seen a man in a jocular mood on his wedding morning. Collins appears in the tower, ushering in the bridegroom, a young gentleman with good looks of the serious kind, somewhat careworn by an exacting conscience, and just now distracted by insoluble problems of conduct. Collins Announcing. Mr. Cecil Sykes. He retires. Hotchkiss Look here, Cecil: this is all wrong. You’ve no business here until after the wedding. Hang it, man! you’re the bridegroom. Sykes Coming to the Bishop, and addressing him with dogged desperation. I’ve come here to say this. When I proposed to Edith I was in utter ignorance of what I was letting myself in for legally. Having given my word, I will stand to it. You have me at your mercy: marry me if you insist. But take notice that I protest. He sits down distractedly in the railed chair. Both highly incensed. The General What the devil do you mean by this? What the⁠— Reginald Confound your impertinence, what do you⁠— Hotchkiss Easy, Rejjy. Easy, old man. Steady, steady. Reginald subsides into his chair. Hotchkiss sits on his right, appeasing him. The Bishop No, please, Rej. Control yourself, Boxer, I beg you. The General I tell you I can’t control myself. I’ve been controlling myself for the last half-hour until I feel like bursting. He sits down furiously at the end of the table next the study. Sykes Pointing to the simmering Reginald and the boiling General. That’s just it, Bishop. Edith is her uncle’s niece. She can’t control herself any more than they can. And she’s a Bishop’s daughter. That means that she’s engaged in social work of all sorts: organizing shop assistants and sweated work girls and all that. When her blood boils about it (and it boils at least once a week) she doesn’t care what she says. Reginald Well: you knew that when you proposed to her. Sykes Yes; but I didn’t know that when we were married I should be legally responsible if she libelled anybody, though all her property is protected against me as if I were the lowest thief and cadger. This morning somebody sent me Belfort Bax’s essays on Men’s Wrongs; and they have been a perfect eye-opener to me. Bishop: I’m not thinking of myself: I would face anything for Edith. But my mother and sisters are wholly dependent on my property. I’d rather have to cut off an inch from my right arm than a hundred a year from my mother’s income. I owe everything to her care of me. Edith, in dressing-jacket and petticoat, comes in through the tower, swiftly and determinedly, pamphlet in hand, principles up in arms, more of a bishop than her father, yet as much a gentlewoman as her mother. She is the typical spoilt child of a clerical household: almost as terrible a product as the typical spoilt child of a Bohemian household: that is, all her childish affectations of conscientious scruple and religious impulse have been applauded and deferred to until she has become an ethical snob of the first water. Her father’s sense of humor and her mother’s placid balance have done something to save her humanity; but her impetuous temper and energetic will, unrestrained by any touch of humor or scepticism, carry everything before them. Imperious and dogmatic, she takes command of the party at once. Edith Standing behind Cecil’s chair. Cecil: I heard your voice. I must speak to you very particularly. Papa: go away. Go away everybody. The Bishop Crossing to the study door. I think there can be no doubt that Edith wishes us to retire. Come. He stands in the doorway, waiting for them to follow. Sykes That’s it, you see. It’s just this outspokenness that makes my position hard, much as I admire her for it. Edith Do you want me to flatter and be untruthful? Sykes No, not exactly that. Edith Does anybody want me to flatter and be untruthful? Hotchkiss Well, since you ask me, I do. Surely it’s the very first qualification for tolerable social intercourse. The General Markedly. I hope you will always tell me the truth, my darling, at all events. Edith Complacently coming to the fireplace. You can depend on me for that, Uncle Boxer. Hotchkiss Are you sure you have any adequate idea of what the truth about a military man really is? Reginald Aggressively. What’s the truth about you, I wonder? Hotchkiss Oh, quite unfit for publication in its entirety. If Miss Bridgenorth begins telling it, I shall have to leave the room. Reginald I’m not at all