Misalliance

to ask? Have I asked am I the first? Tarleton You’re right: a vulgar question. To a man like me, everybody is the first. Life renews itself. Lina The youngest child is the sweetest. Tarleton Don’t probe too deep, Lina. It hurts. Lina You must get out of the habit of thinking that these things matter so much. It’s linendraperish. Tarleton You’re quite right. I’ve often said so. All the same, it does matter; for I want to cry. He buries his face in his arms on the worktable and sobs. Lina Going to him. O la la! She slaps him vigorously, but not unkindly, on the shoulder. Courage, old pal, courage! Have you a gymnasium here? Tarleton There’s a trapeze and bars and things in the billiard room. Lina Come. You need a few exercises. I’ll teach you how to stop crying. She takes his arm and leads him off into the vestibule. A young man, cheaply dressed and strange in manner, appears in the garden; steals to the pavilion door; and looks in. Seeing that there is nobody, he enters cautiously until he has come far enough to see into the hatstand corner. He draws a revolver, and examines it, apparently to make sure that it is loaded. Then his attention is caught by the Turkish bath. He looks down the lunette, and opens the panels. Hypatia Calling in the garden. Mr. Percival! Mr. Percival! Where are you? The young man makes for the door, but sees Percival coming. He turns and bolts into the Turkish bath, which he closes upon himself just in time to escape being caught by Percival, who runs in through the pavilion, bareheaded. He also, it appears, is in search of a hiding-place; for he stops and turns between the two tables to take a survey of the room; then runs into the corner between the end of the sideboard and the wall. Hypatia, excited, mischievous, her eyes glowing, runs in, precisely on his trail; turns at the same spot; and discovers him just as he makes a dash for the pavilion door. She flies back and intercepts him. Hypatia Aha! aren’t you glad I’ve caught you? Percival Illhumoredly turning away from her and coming towards the writing table. No I’m not. Confound it, what sort of girl are you? What sort of house is this? Must I throw all good manners to the winds? Hypatia Following him. Do, do, do, do, do. This is the house of a respectable shopkeeper, enormously rich. This is the respectable shopkeeper’s daughter, tired of good manners. Slipping her left hand into his right. Come, handsome young man, and play with the respectable shopkeeper’s daughter. Percival Withdrawing quickly from her touch. No, no: don’t you know you mustn’t go on like this with a perfect stranger? Hypatia Dropped down from the sky. Don’t you know that you must always go on like this when you get the chance? You must come to the top of the hill and chase me through the bracken. You may kiss me if you catch me. Percival I shall do nothing of the sort. Hypatia Yes you will: you can’t help yourself. Come along. She seizes his sleeve. Fool, fool: come along. Don’t you want to? Percival No: certainly not. I should never be forgiven if I did it. Hypatia You’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t. Percival Nonsense. You’re engaged to Ben. Ben’s my friend. What do you take me for? Hypatia Ben’s old. Ben was born old. They’re all old here, except you and me and the man-woman or woman-man or whatever you call her that came with you. They never do anything: they only discuss whether what other people do is right. Come and give them something to discuss. Percival I will do nothing incorrect. Hypatia Oh, don’t be afraid, little boy: you’ll get nothing but a kiss; and I’ll fight like the devil to keep you from getting that. But we must play on the hill and race through the heather. Percival Why? Hypatia Because we want to, handsome young man. Percival But if everybody went on in this way⁠— Hypatia How happy! oh how happy the world would be! Percival But the consequences may be serious. Hypatia Nothing is worth doing unless the consequences may be serious. My father says so; and I’m my father’s daughter. Percival I’m the son of three fathers. I mistrust these wild impulses. Hypatia Take care. You’re letting the moment slip. I feel the first chill of the wave of prudence. Save me. Percival Really, Miss Tarleton⁠—She strikes him across the face. Damn you! Recovering himself, horrified at his lapse. I beg your pardon; but since we’ve both forgotten ourselves, you’ll please allow me to leave the house. He turns towards the inner door, having left his cap in the bedroom. Hypatia Standing in his way. Are you ashamed of having said “Damn you” to me? Percival I had no right to say it. I’m very much ashamed of it. I have already begged your pardon. Hypatia And you’re not ashamed of having said “Really, Miss Tarleton.” Percival Why should I? Hypatia O man, man! mean, stupid, cowardly, selfish masculine male man! You ought to have been a governess. I was expelled from school for saying that the very next person that said “Really, Miss Tarleton,” to me, I would strike her across the face. You were the next. Percival I had no intention of being offensive. Surely there is nothing that can wound any lady in⁠—He hesitates, not quite convinced. At least⁠—er⁠—I really didn’t mean to be disagreeable. Hypatia Liar. Percival Of course if you’re going to insult me, I am quite helpless. You’re a woman: you can say what you like. Hypatia And you can only say what you dare. Poor wretch: it isn’t much. He bites his lip, and sits down, very much annoyed. Really, Mr. Percival! You sit down in the presence of a lady and leave her standing. He rises hastily. Ha, ha! Really, Mr. Percival! Oh really, really, really, really, really, Mr. Percival! How