Getting Married

poor people. In a historical museum she would explain Edward the Fourth’s taste for shopkeepers’ wives. Her age, which is certainly 40, and might be 50, is carried off by her vitality, her resilient figure, and her confident carriage. So far, a remarkably well-preserved woman. But her beauty is wrecked, like an ageless landscape ravaged by long and fierce war. Her eyes are alive, arresting and haunting; and there is still a turn of delicate beauty and pride in her indomitable chin; but her cheeks are wasted and lined, her mouth writhen and piteous. The whole face is a battlefield of the passions, quite deplorable until she speaks, when an alert sense of fun rejuvenates her in a moment, and makes her company irresistible. All rise except Soames, who sits down. Leo joins Reginald at the garden door. Mrs. Bridgenorth hurries to the tower to receive her guest, and gets as far as Soames’s chair when Mrs. George appears. Hotchkiss, apparently recognizing her, recoils in consternation to the study door at the furthest corner of the room from her. Mrs. George Coming straight to the Bishop with the ring in her hand. Here is your ring, my lord; and here am I. It’s your doing, remember: not mine. The Bishop Good of you to come. Mrs. Bridgenorth How do you do, Mrs. Collins? Mrs. George Going to her past the Bishop, and gazing intently at her. Are you his wife? Mrs. Bridgenorth The Bishop’s wife? Yes. Mrs. George What a destiny! And you look like any other woman! Mrs. Bridgenorth Introducing Lesbia. My sister, Miss Grantham. Mrs. George So strangely mixed up with the story of the General’s life? The Bishop You know the story of his life, then? Mrs. George Not all. We reached the house before he brought it up to the present day. But enough to know the part played in it by Miss Grantham. Mrs. Bridgenorth Introducing Leo. Mrs. Reginald Bridgenorth. Reginald The late Mrs. Reginald Bridgenorth. Leo Hold your tongue, Rejjy. At least have the decency to wait until the decree is made absolute. Mrs. George To Leo. Well, you’ve more time to get married again than he has, haven’t you? Mrs. Bridgenorth Introducing Hotchkiss. Mr. St. John Hotchkiss. Hotchkiss, still far aloof by the study door, bows. Mrs. George What! That! She makes a half tour of the kitchen and ends right in front of him. Young man: do you remember coming into my shop and telling me that my husband’s coals were out of place in your cellar, as Nature evidently intended them for the roof? Hotchkiss I remember that deplorable impertinence with shame and confusion. You were kind enough to answer that Mr. Collins was looking out for a clever young man to write advertisements, and that I could take the job if I liked. Mrs. George It’s still open. She turns to Edith. Mrs. Bridgenorth My daughter Edith. She comes towards the study door to make the introduction. Mrs. George The bride! Looking at Edith’s dressing-jacket. You’re not going to get married like that, are you? The Bishop Coming round the table to Edith’s left. That’s just what we are discussing. Will you be so good as to join us and allow us the benefit of your wisdom and experience? Mrs. George Do you want the Beadle as well? He’s a married man. They all turn, involuntarily and contemplate the Beadle, who sustains their gaze with dignity. The Bishop We think there are already too many men to be quite fair to the women. Mrs. George Right, my lord. She goes back to the tower and addresses the Beadle. Take away that bauble, Joseph. Wait for me wherever you find yourself most comfortable in the neighborhood. The Beadle withdraws. She notices Collins for the first time. Hullo, Bill: you’ve got ’em all on too. Go and hunt up a drink for Joseph: there’s a dear. Collins goes out. She looks at Soames’s cassock and biretta. What! Another uniform! Are you the sexton? He rises. The Bishop My chaplain, Father Anthony. Mrs. George Oh Lord! To Soames, coaxingly. You don’t mind, do you? Soames I mind nothing but my duties. The Bishop You know everybody now, I think. Mrs. George Turning to the railed chair. Who’s this? The Bishop Oh, I beg your pardon, Cecil. Mr. Sykes. The bridegroom. Mrs. George To Sykes. Adorned for the sacrifice, aren’t you? Sykes It seems doubtful whether there is going to be any sacrifice. Mrs. George Well, I want to talk to the women first. Shall we go upstairs and look at the presents and dresses? Mrs. Bridgenorth If you wish, certainly. Reginald But the men want to hear what you have to say too. Mrs. George I’ll talk to them afterwards: one by one. Hotchkiss To himself. Great heavens! Mrs. Bridgenorth This way, Mrs. Collins. She leads the way out through the tower, followed by Mrs. George, Lesbia, Leo, and Edith. The Bishop Shall we try to get through the last batch of letters whilst they are away, Soames? Soames Yes, certainly. To Hotchkiss, who is in his way. Excuse me. The Bishop and Soames go into the study, disturbing Hotchkiss, who, plunged in a strange reverie, has forgotten where he is. Awakened by Soames, he stares distractedly; then, with sudden resolution, goes swiftly to the middle of the kitchen. Hotchkiss Cecil. Rejjy. Startled by his urgency, they hurry to him. I’m frightfully sorry to desert on this day; but I must bolt. This time it really is pure cowardice. I can’t help it. Reginald What are you afraid of? Hotchkiss I don’t know. Listen to me. I was a young fool living by myself in London. I ordered my first ton of coals from that woman’s husband. At that time I did not know that it is not true economy to buy the lowest priced article: I thought all coals were