If I Had a Father

years I haven’t seen her⁠—have not once written to her! Since I came back I’ve seen her just twice⁠—and now in the very hell of love! The ragged little darling that used to lie coiled up there in that corner! If it were my sister, it would be hard to lose her so! And to such a fellow as that!⁠—not even a gentleman! How could she take him for one! That does perplex me! Ah, well! I suppose men have borne such things before, and men will bear them again! I must work! Nothing but work will save me. Approaches the Psyche, but turns from it with a look of despair and disgust. What a fool I have been!⁠—Constance! Constance!⁠—A brute like that to touch one of her fingers! God in heaven! It will drive me mad. Rushes out, leaving the door open. Enter Col. Gervaise. Col. Gervaise Gone again! and without his breakfast! My poor boy! There’s something very wrong with you! It’s that girl! It must be! But there’s conscience in him yet!⁠—It is all my fault. If I had been a father to him, this would never have happened.⁠—If he were to marry the girl now?⁠—Only, who can tell but she led him astray? I have known such a thing. Sits down and buries his face in his hands. Enter Waterfield. Waterfield Is Mr. Gervaise in? Col. Gervaise Rising. No, sir. Waterfield Tell him I called, will you? Exit. Col. Gervaise Yes, sir.⁠—Forgot again. Young man;⁠—gentleman or cad?⁠—don’t know; think the latter. Enter Thomas. Thomas Han yo heard speyk ov mo chylt yet, sir? Col. Gervaise Starting up. In the name of God, I know nothing of your child; but bring her here, and I will give you a hundred pounds⁠—in golden sovereigns. Thomas Hea am aw to fot her yere, when I dunnot know wheer hoo be, sir? Col. Gervaise That’s your business. Bring her, and there will be your money. Thomas Dun yo think, sir, o’ the gouden suverings i’ th’ Bank ov England would put a sharper edge on mo oud eighes when they look for mo lass? Eh, mon! Yo dunnot know the heart ov a feyther⁠—ov the feyther ov a lass-barn, sir. Han yo kilt and buried her, and nea be yo sorry for’t? I’ hoo be dead and gwoan, tell mo, sir, and aw’ll goo whoam again, for mo oud lass be main lonesome beout mo, and we’ll wait till we goo to her, for hoo winnot coom no moor to us. Col. Gervaise For anything I know, your daughter is alive and well. Bring her here, I say, and I will make you happy. Thomas Aw shannot want thes or thi silverings either to mak mo happy then, maister. Iv aw hed a houd o’ mo lass, it’s noan o’ yere aw’d be a coomin’ wi’ her. It’s reet streight whoam to her mother we’d be gooin’, aw’ll be beawn. Nay, nay, mon!⁠—aw’m noan sich a greight foo as yo tak mo for. Exit. Col. Gervaise follows him. Enter. Gervaise Sits down before the Psyche, but without looking at her. Gervaise Oh those fingers! They are striking terrible chords on my heart! I will conquer it. But I will love her. The spear shall fill its own wound. To draw it out and die, would be no victory. “I’ll but lie down and bleed awhile, and then I’ll rise and fight again.” Brave old Sir Andrew! Enter Col. Gervaise. Col. Gervaise I beg your pardon, sir⁠—a young man called while you were out. Gervaise Listlessly. Very well, William. Col. Gervaise Is there any message, if he calls again, sir? He said he would. Gervaise No. Col. Gervaise lingers. You can go. Col. Gervaise I hope you feel better, sir? Gervaise Quite well. Col. Gervaise Can I get you anything, sir? Gervaise No, thank you; I want nothing.⁠—Why do you stay? Col. Gervaise Can’t you think of something I can do for you, sir? Gervaise Fetch that red cloth. Col. Gervaise Yes, sir. Gervaise Throw it over that⁠— Col. Gervaise This, sir? Gervaise No, no⁠—the clay there. Thank you. A knock at the door. See who that is. Col. Gervaise Are you at home, sir? Gervaise That depends. Not to Mr. Waterfield. Oh, my head! my head! Exit Col. Gervaise. Enter Constance. Gervaise starts, but keeps his head leaning on his hand. Constance I forgot to say to you, Arthur⁠—. But you are ill! What is the matter, dear Arthur? Gervaise Without looking up. Nothing⁠—only a headache. Constance Do come home with me, and let aunt and me nurse you. Don’t be vexed with me any more. I will do whatever you like. I couldn’t go home without seeing you again. And now I find you ill! Gervaise Not a bit. I am only dreadfully busy. I must go out of town. I am so busy! I can’t stay in it a moment longer. I have so many things to do. Constance Mayn’t I come and see you while you work? I never used to interrupt you. I want so to sit once more in my old place. Draws a stool towards him. Gervaise No, no⁠—not⁠—not there! Constance used to sit there. William! Constance You frighten me, Arthur! Enter Col. Gervaise. Gervaise Bring a chair, William. Constance sits down like a chidden child. Exit Col. Gervaise. Constance I must have offended you more than I thought, Arthur! What can I say? It is so stupid to be always saying “I am sorry.” Gervaise No, no. But someone may call. Constance You mean more than that. Will you not let me understand? Gervaise Your friend Mr. Waterfield called a few minutes ago. He will be here again presently, I dare say. Constance Indifferently. Indeed! Gervaise I suppose you appointed⁠—expected⁠—to meet him here. Constance Arthur! Do you think I would come to you to meet him? I saw him this morning; I don’t want to see him again. I wish you knew him. Gervaise Why should you want me to know him? Constance Because you would do him good. Gervaise What good does he want