(to OBENREIZER). Are you satisfied now?
Obenreizer. Wait a little!
Marguerite. (looking at OBENREIZER). He frightens me!
Obenreizer. (to MARGUERITE). A word more—a little word more, dearest, between us. You know that I alone have authority over you as your guardian?
Marguerite. (fearing a dispute between the two men). Yes.
Obenreizer. If Mr. Vendale is ever to marry you, it must be with my consent?
Marguerite. Yes.
Obenreizer. You promise to be guided in this matter by my regard for your welfare, and by my better knowledge of the world?
Marguerite. Yes.
Obenreizer. If I say wait—whatever Mr. Vendale may say—you will wait my time?
(VENDALE attempts to interpose. MARGUERITE, in terror of what may happen, silences him by a gesture.)
Obenreizer. (enforcing the question). You will wait my time?
Marguerite. Yes.
Obenreizer. Mr. Vendale, are you answered?
Vendale. I am not answered. You have heard from herself that she loves me. In her presence, I tell you again that I love her. In her presence, state your objection to me. I repeat my proposal.
Obenreizer. I decline your proposal.
Vendale. On what ground?
Obenreizer. On the ground of your income.
Vendale. Fifteen hundred a year, is—in your opinion—not enough?
Obenreizer. Not more than half enough!
Vendale. That is your objection?
Obenreizer. That is my objection.
Vendale. I take you at your word. Mr. Obenreizer! I will double my income.
Obenreizer. Easier said than done!
Vendale. Watch the course of my business for another year, and you will see it done.—Marguerite! will you wait for me?
Marguerite. Willingly, Geor——! (Sees OBENREIZER looking at her, and corrects herself.) Yes, Mr. Vendale!
Vendale. In a year more, you shall be my wife!
(He turns towards the door.)
Marguerite. (impulsively following him). George!
Obenreizer. (calling her back furiously). Marguerite!
Marguerite. (looking at him with a cry of terror). Oh!
Vendale. You have frightened her!
Obenreizer. (to MARGUERITE). Have I frightened you?
Marguerite. I was a little startled—that’s all! (She looks at VENDALE. He attempts to approach her. OBENREIZER places himself between them).
Obenreizer. No, Mr. Vendale. You are not her husband yet!
(The Scene closes on them.)
SECOND SCENE.—A room in WILDING’S house. Side entrances, right and left. A door in the flat scene. BINTREY enters from the side, and knocks at the door in the flat. It is opened by SALLY GOLDSTRAW, who closes it behind her before she speaks to BINTREY.
Sally. Did you wish to see Mr. Wilding, sir?
Bintrey. Yes. I have been away a week on business, and I want to ask him how he does.
Sally. You can’t see him now, sir. He has promised me to lie down, and try if he can get a little sleep. The new doctor warned me not to let him be disturbed.
Bintrey. What, another doctor called in! When I was here last, Mr. Wilding was able to walk and talk. All he complained of was the oppression in his head. You don’t mean to say he is dangerously ill?
Sally. He is able to walk and talk still, sir. But I am afraid he is dangerously ill, for all that. Three days since he alarmed us dreadfully—he had a fit. The doctors say that a second attack will be the death of him. I have my orders not to let him be vexed or disturbed. And, to own the truth, sir, I am afraid he would be both vexed and disturbed, if he saw you.
Bintrey. Come! that’s plain speaking, at any rate. What have I done to upset him, if you please?
Sally. He can’t rest night or day, sir, for thinking of the lost Walter Wilding. And he blames you for stopping his inquiries, when he wanted to make them, and when he had health and strength to do it.
Bintrey. My good woman! you have your duty towards Mr. Wilding; and I have mine. My duty is to keep my old friend and client from being swindled by the first rogue who chooses to impose on him. (Aside.) Obenreizer, for example!
Sally. Still, you might humour him, sir, mightn’t you? He does take it, Mr. Bintrey, so much to heart!
Bintrey. I have humoured him—I have drawn his will. And what’s more, I have let him execute it. The most absurd document that ever was put on paper! Mr. Vendale and I are charged, as his executors, to find a lost man, without knowing where to look for him—and to give that man a fortune, no matter who or what he may be, if he ever turns up! In drawing that will, I have committed professional suicide—and here’s a worthy woman who tells me I haven’t humoured my client!
Sally. I’m sure you mean well, sir! But he’s so anxious and so ill—and I am so sorry for him! In old days at the Foundling, I used to call him “my boy.” And somehow—I can’t explain it—he seems to be growing back, in this distress of his, to be “my boy” again!
Bintrey. You may be old enough to be his mother, Miss Goldstraw—but you don’t look it, at any rate!
Sally (curtseying). Thank you, sir!
Bintrey. Don’t mention it! Come! come! I see you think I may be of some use in quieting poor Wilding’s mind. What can I do?
Sally. Help him, sir, to find the lost man.
Bintrey. Help him to find somebody who will relieve him of every farthing he has in the world! If I do, I’ll be——
Sally. Hush, sir! I don’t think you understand poor Mr. Wilding’s case. He is not to be reasoned with in this matter. It will be the death of him if his present anxiety is not relieved.
Bintrey. Was there ever such perversity? A man dying with anxiety to see another man make a pauper of him!—There! there! I’ll tell you what I’ll do—I’ll help him, but it must be on my own terms. If the lost man is to be found (the devil take him!), it’s my address he shall apply at, and not Wilding’s. If he gets half the fortune out of me, he may think himself lucky! I hate the fellow by anticipation! Tell Mr. Wilding I’ll make inquiries—and say, I’ll call and report to-morrow. Will that pacify him?
Sally. I’m sure it will, sir. Ah, you may be rough outside, Mr. Bintrey—but you have a good heart.
Bintrey. Don’t take away my character, Miss Goldstraw!
(Exit.)
Sally (looking after him). It’s no laughing matter, Mr. Bintrey. If something isn’t done to quiet his mind, I tremble to think of what may happen before long!
(WILDING enters by the door in the flat. He is clothed in his dressing-gown. His manner expresses mental, rather than physical, weakness.)
Wilding. Did I hear Mr. Bintrey?
Sally (starting, and turning round).