The Benefit of the Doubt; a Comedy in Three Acts

Title: The Benefit of the Doubt; a Comedy in Three Acts

Author: Arthur Wing Pinero

Release date: December 9, 2017 [eBook #56151] Most recently updated: October 23, 2024

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/56151

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Copyright 1895 All rights reserved Entered at Stationers’ Hall Entered at the Library of Congress, Washington, U.S.A.

This Play was produced at the Comedy Theatre, London, on Wednesday, October 16th, 1895

The scenes are placed at Mrs. Emptage’s house, in the neighbourhood of Regent’s Park, and at “The Lichens,” Mr. Allingham’s cottage at Epsom.

The events of the First and Second Acts occur on the same day,day, those of the Third Act about fifteen hours afterwards.

THE FIRST ACT

The Scene represents a drawing-room in Mrs. Emptage’s house near Regent’s Park. At the back are double doors, opening on to a further drawing-room, and these face a window, over which the blinds are drawn, to moderate the glare of the sun, which nevertheless streams through them, for it is a fine afternoon in early summer. The rooms are furnished and decorated in a costly and tasteful fashion.

Mrs. Emptage is reclining upon the settee, her eyes closed, a bottle of smelling-salts in her hand. Justina is pacing the room between the door and the window. Mrs. Emptage is a pretty, carefully-preserved woman with dyed hair and “touched-up” face: she is old enough to be the mother of a 2daughter of nine-and-twenty. Justina is of that age, good-looking, “smart,” and already somewhat passé. Both are fashionably but sombrely dressed.

Tell me the time once more, ’Tina.

[Referring to her watch.] A few minutes to four, mother.

Does the judge of the Divorce Court invariably rise at four o’clock?

He may sit a little later under special circumstances.

To have done with a case if it’s very near its end?

So I’m told.

They must all be here soon, whether that happens or not.

Yes, yes. Oh, but if the confounded thing should last into another day!

A third day’s suspense will kill me.

Ma, I suppose, really, we ought to be reading our Church Services or something.

I can’t concentrate my attention in the least; I have been glancing at “The Yellow Book.”

Hark! what’s that?

I don’t hear anything.

It is somebody!

Mrs. Emptage struggles to her feet as Mrs. Quinton Twelves enters. Horton retires. Kate Twelves is a lively, handsome young woman, brightly dressed.

[Throwing themselves upon her.] Kitty!

[Kissing them.] Well, well, well, well!

Is it over?

Not quite; that is, it wasn’t when I came away. It’s all over by now, I expect.

[Hysterically.] Oh, Kitty——!

Sssh, sssh! everything has gone swimmingly, I tell you.

For Theophila?

Of course, for Theophila.

[Sinking back on to the settee.] I felt sure it would.

But what was happening when you left?

The dear old judge was just beginning to deliver his decision—his judgment.

Oh, how could you come away then?

Certainly, it was a wrench. Only, Theo wrote little notes to Sir Fletcher Portwood and to Claude and me. [Taking a screw of paper from her glove.glove.] Here’s mine. [Reading.] “I won’t have anybody I am 6fond of, except my husband, in Court at the finish. They tell me they are sure I am cleared, but it frightens me to think you are all waiting. Go to mother’s.”

[Taking the note.] My poor child! [Reading it.] “... they are sure I am cleared....” ’Tina, she’s cleared!

Cleared! I wish you could have heard Sir John Clarkson’s opening speech for Theophila this morning. There was quite a murmur of approval when he sat down.

He let that wretch, Mrs. Jack Allingham, have it—eh? He did!

He said that a morbidly jealous wife is one of the saddest spectacles the world presents; but that when her jealousy leads her to attempt to blacken the reputation, the hitherto spotless reputation, of another woman—in this instance, a young lady more happily married than herself—then that jealous wife becomes a positive danger to society.

I ought to have been there, ’Tina. I said it was my duty, if you remember.

I might have gone.

Certainly; and yet you have both sat at home, quaking; behaving, for all the world, as if you have a lurking suspicion that Theophila really may—really has—really did——

Kate, I will not permit you to say such a thing!

Why these miserable-looking gowns then? You are dressed more funereally to-day than you were yesterday!

[Tearfully.] If you live to see a daughter of yours, however innocent she may be, dragged through the Divorce Court——!

We haven’t been quite certain what we ought to put on.

I considered half-mourning rather a happy thought.

To my mind, it looks as if you had deliberately prepared for all emergencies.

[Rising, in a flutter.] ’Tina, pin some flowers in your dress at once! I’ll get Bristow to stick a bit of relief about me somewhere. And I’ll wear some more rings——

[She goes out. Justina selects some cut flowers from a vase on the pianoforte.

Oh, Kit, we were dreadfully in the dumps. Bless you for bullying us!

[Taking a pin from her hat.] Come here.

[Going to Mrs. Twelves.] By Jove, though! it would have been too rough on us if—if—wouldn’t it?

[Attaching the flowers to the bodice of Justina’s dress.] Pray complete your sentence.

Well—if Mrs. Allingham had made out her case against Jack Allingham and Theo.

For shame, ’Tina!

Oh, you’re awfully prudish all of a sudden, Kate. You’ve very soon forgotten—— Mind that pin!

What are you saying?

I mean, it isn’t as if we hadn’t all been just a leetle 10rapid in our time, we three girls—Theo, you, and I. You needn’t be quite so newly-married-womanish with me.

Shut up!

[Glancing round.] No one’s there.

[In an undertone.] We always knew where to draw the line, I hope.

Of course we did. Only, when you’re married, as Theo is, to a cold, dry mummy of a man like Alexander Fraser, the line’s apt to get drawn rather zigzag.

[Finishing with the flowers.] Go away!

Thanks—they’re jolly. [Picking up a little mirror from the table, and making a wry face at herself.] I haven’t had a night’s sound sleep for weeks.

I should think not, with such thoughts in your head. Poor Theo! I’ve been fretting about her too, in a different way.

[Adjusting the flowers with the aid of the mirror.] Yes, but it isn’t only Theo. I’ve been doing a bit of lying-awake on my own account, I can tell you.

Why?

[Moistening her eyelashes as she again surveys her face.] Why, if this business had gone against my sister, it wouldn’t have bettered my chances—eh?

No, perhaps it wouldn’t.

I’m twenty—oh, you know——

Nine.

Ugh, dash it, yes! And this beastly scrape of Theophila’s has been no end of a shocker for me. From to-day I turn over the proverbial new leaf.

So glad, dear.

Just fancy! I’m the only single one out of we three musketeers. Great Scot, Kate, suppose I got left!

[With a laugh.] ’Tina!

But I won’t, you mark me! From to-day I’ll alter—I take my oath I will! No more slang for me, no more swears, no more smokes with the men after dinner, no more cycling at the club in knickers! I’ve been giving too much away——!

[Listening.] Take care!

[Glancing round.] Claude—back.

Claude Emptage, a plain, stumpy, altogether insignificant young man enters—a young man with a pale face, red eyelids and nostrils, a dense look, and heavy, depressed manner.

What news? Any?

It’s finished.

Finished!

Don’t tell me! How?

It’s all right for Theo. Mrs. Allingham’s petition dismissed.

Ho, ho! Ha, ha, ha! All right for Theo! [Clapping her hands, almost dancing. Mrs. Twelves embraces her.] All right for Theo!

Isn’t it splendid?

Ha, ha, ha! All right for——! Mother! ma! ma!

[To Claude.] You did wait then, in spite of Theo’s orders?

No, not in Court. I hung about outside, with Uncle Fletcher, to hear the result. [Sitting, with a little groan.] Oh!

I must say, Claude, the victory hasn’t left you very cheerful.

Cheerful! Think of the day I’ve spent!

You’ve spent!

Theophila’s brother! [Pointing into space.] The 15brother of Mrs. Fraser of Locheen! The brother of the witness in the box! Every eye upon me!

[Drily.] I see.

Oh, Kate, I’ve felt this business in more ways than one. It has been a terrible lesson to me.

[Smiling.] My poor Claudio!

[Not looking at her.] No, don’t pity me—despise me. Kitty, how easy it is for a fellow to imperil a woman’s reputation!

[Amused.] Yes, isn’t it?

We attach ourselves to a pretty married woman; we lounge in her drawing-room, her boudoir; we make her our toy, our pastime. Do we allow a single 16thought of the scandal we may involve her in to check us in our pursuit of pleasure?

[Demurely.] No, I suppose you don’t.

Never!

Perhaps you had better not come to tea with me quite so frequently in the future, Claude.

You are right; you, and others, must see less of me. [Turning to her.] And yet, Kate, I am not all bad!

Sir Fletcher Portwood enters. He is fifty-one, amiable, pompous, egotistical, foolish.

Why didn’t you wait for me, Claude, my boy?

Sorry; my brain was reeling.

[Meeting Mrs. Twelves.] A very proper, a very satisfactory termination of this affair, Mrs. Twelves.

It has been awfully reassuring to see you beaming in Court, Sir Fletcher.

Ha! I daresay my attitude has been remarked. Beaming; why not? I’ve had no doubt as to the result.

No doubt of Theo’s innocence—of course not.

Innocent; that goes without saying—my niece. But the result, in any case, would have been much the same, I venture to think.

Really?

You see, my own public position, if I may speak of it——

Oh, yes.

[Smiling.] And I happen to know the judge—slightly perhaps; but there it is.

But judges are not influenced by considerations of that kind?

Heaven forbid I should say a word against our method of administering law in this country. The House knows my opinion of the English Judicial Bench. At the same time, judges are mortal—I have never concealed that from myself; and Sir William and I have met. [To Claude.] You saw the judge look at me this morning, Claude?

No.

No? Oh, yes, and I half-smiled in return. Yesterday I couldn’t catch his eye, but today I’ve been half-smiling at him all through the proceedings.

19Justina runs in, seats herself at the pianoforte, and thumps out the Wedding March.

Well, Uncle Fletcher!

Ah! ha!

What price Mrs. Allingham?

Mrs. Emptage returns. She has relieved the heaviness of her dress by a fichu of crêpe de soie.

[Embracing Claude.] My darling! [Embracing Sir Fletcher.] Oh, my dear Fletcher! Be quiet, ’Tina!

[Justina plays the air of a popular music-hall melody, softly; Mrs. Twelves comes to her.

I told you so—hey!

We all said so.

But I’ve been the most emphatic——

Where are Theo and Alec?

They went over to Sir John Clarkson’s chambers directly the case concluded—I fancy, to consult him on some little point that had arisen. I managed to get one word——

[Impulsively kissing Mrs. Twelves.] I’m so happy!

I contrived to get just one word with Alec as he was putting Theophila into the carriage. I wanted to tell him——

[Pacing the room, humming the air played by Justina.] Tra, la, la! la, la! tra, la, la!

I wanted to tell him an amusing story I’d heard 21during the luncheon interval, but he hadn’t time to—— Ha, ha! It’s a legal anecdote. It appears that a fellow of the name of Babbitt once brought an action——

Did the judge apologise, Fletcher?

Apologise!

To Theophila?

A judge never apologises.

He might do worse, where such undeserved distress is occasioned a young wife and her husband——

Hear, hear!

To say nothing of her mother!

I surmise that the judgment of my friend Sir William was very strongly worded, and I daresay an expression of regret followed from Mrs. Allingham’s counsel. But I had quitted the Court, you know——

Oh, yes; Theo wrote you a note——

But you are losing my anecdote. It appears that a man of the name of Babbitt—— One thing, Muriel, I will stake my reputation upon.

[Peeping out at the side of the window blind.] What’s that?

That the public applauded the decision roundly.

[Pacing the room again.] I can hear them doing it! Bravo, Mrs. Fraser! Eh, girls?

Plucky Mrs. Fraser!

How jolly to have been there just then!

As a matter of fact, I talked with several strangers of a humble rank of life, and hinted that a few cheers—so regrettable and unseemly in a court of law as a rule—I hinted that a few cheers would undoubtedly be justifiable in the present instance, as well as peculiarly agreeable to me. It seems that Babbitt——

[After glancing at the card.] Oh——!

Eh?

What’s up?

[To Horton.] Where is Mrs. Cloys?

[Sir Fletcher, Justina and Claude rise precipitately.

In the morning-room, ma’am. She preferred——

[Taking the card.] I—I—some one will come to her.

Harriet here!

By Jove!

[Making for the door.] No; she is too impossible.

[Intercepting him.] Claude, I dare you to leave the house!

[Sir Fletcher also moves towards the door.

[Stopping him.] Fletcher, you mustn’t!

Muriel, I distinctly prefer not to meet——

But I must havehave every support; I am unequal to it otherwise. Who will fetch her upstairs? Fletcher, dear!——

In your establishment! Singularly inappropriate!

[Turning to Justina.] Justina——

No thanks, ma.

Brutes, all of you!

Confound her!

I shall submit to none of her airs. What is a bishop?

Why does she select this occasion——?

It’s nearly ten years since she washed her hands of us.

Exactly eleven years have elapsed since my sister Harriet placed it out of my power to continue on a footing of brotherly intercourse with her.

[To Mrs. Twelves, in a whisper.] I know the story.

[To him.] Sssh!

Her behaviour on that one memorable afternoon proved that her marriage to a dignitary of the Church was something worse than a fluke—a sacrilege.

[Quietly to Claude.] What is it?

[Quietly to her.] She called him a Bore.

[Going to Justina.] Do you think I could steal downstairs and get away? She used to tell me I was an empty-headed little fool.

Outrageous!

And predicted I should end badly.

Well, you haven’t.

No, but there’s time, she’d say. [Going towards the doors.] I’m off.

Sneak!

[Returning hastily.] They’re coming up!

Let ’em!

28Mrs. Cloys enters, and stands surveying the room. Mrs. Emptage follows her. Mrs. Cloys is about fifty-three, handsome, dignified in bearing, richly but soberly dressed, in manner a mixture of sweetness and acerbity.

Justina—is it?

[Going to her.] How do you do, Aunt Harriet?

[Kissing her, then eyeing her keenly.] H’m! you’re not married yet, I believe?

No, I haven’t the slightest inclination that way.

Oh, my dear, you still tell fibs, then?

Indeed, aunt?

[Justina retires; Sir Fletcher advances. Mrs. Cloys kisses him, then looks him up and down.

Well, Fletcher, so they’ve knighted you, have they?

Lord Cranbery was gracious enough to recommend——

How much did it cost you?

Cost me!

Well, you’ve made money; I suppose you could afford it.

Pray let us——!

Don’t puff yourself out at me, Fletcher.

I am doing nothing of the kind, Harriet.

Then don’t.

Er—how is the bishop?

Old.

Old? Let me see—my marvellous head for figures should serve me——

Very old.

Born in——

We’re all getting old; that’s why you have the pleasure of seeing me amongst you once more. [Turning to Claude, who bows stiffly.] My nephew? [Shaking hands with him and looking him in the face searchingly.] You’re rather old too. [Sharply.] Who’s that there?

[Who has been hidden by the flowers on the piano-forte, 31advancing, with a nervous outburst.] Oh, I hope you remember me, dear Mrs. Cloys—Kitty Twelves. I was Kitty Powis, if you recollect.

I recollect. Weren’t you at school in Paris with Justina and Theophila, and afterwards——?

Yes. Isn’t this interesting? Quinton, my husband, was confirmed by the Bishop of St. Olpherts! I never discovered it till we’d been married for ages—I mean, weeks and weeks—[gradually quailing under Mrs. Cloys’s gaze]—and then one day—he—he happened to see me kissing the sweetest photograph of you—and and—and——

Mrs. Twills, I understood from my sister there was a purely family gathering here this afternoon——

[Offering her hand.] I—I have to go on elsewhere——

[Detaining her hand.] My dear, you were extremely 32old when I last saw you, during your first season, in eighty-something; I pray, now you’re married, that you are—younger.

[They look at each other for a moment longer, then Mrs. Twelves withdraws her hand, and, after nodding to the others in a scared way, goes out silently. Claude follows her.

[Sitting on the settee.] Muriel. [Mrs. Emptage comes to her.] We have been on bad terms for many years; let us have done with it. I suggest mutual concessions to disposition and temper.

[Sitting.] I am sure I have been more than desirous——

You have brought up your children abominably; that was always our most serious point of dissension——

I may remind you, Harriet, that Muriel’s cheerful method of training her children has received my 33sympathy and sanction. On the death of the late Mr. Emptage——

My poor dear Herbert——

It naturally devolved upon me——

Sssh!

I am not one of those——

Sssh, sssh, sssh!

Your twenty years of married life may have taught you how to manage a husband, Harriet, but——

Heaven has blessed you with no offspring.

And the world isn’t all deans, and canons, and bishops and things——

A department of society you were thrown headlong into——

By the merest chance, as you well know——

Without, I fear, possessing every qualification for the—ah—the exalted station which—which——

And—and—and——

[To Mrs. Emptage.] There, there! Don’t, I say. Have done with it? At any rate, we’re grey-haired women now—I am, and you ought to be——

Now, Harriet——!

And judgment has overtaken you——

Judgment!

This terrible calamity that has befallen your girl Theophila. Oh, how is it going to end?

My dear Harriet, it has ended.

Has the case——?

Mrs. Allingham’s petition is dismissed—dismissed.

My daughter has emerged triumphantly——

Thank God! [Rising.] Muriel——

[Mrs. Emptage rises; Mrs. Cloys kisses her on both cheeks, then turns away.

You will see Theo and her husband in a few minutes. They are staying with me just now. 36“Weak, giddy mother,” am I, Harriet? My child flies to me in her trouble, nevertheless.

[Wiping her eyes.] The dear bishop will be so rejoiced. Not a newspaper has been taken at the Palace this week. [Resuming her seat.] It has hit us hard. How did it all come about?

In this way. I——

[Sitting again.] Why, we’ve all known Jack Allingham for years——

[Sitting.] A good fellow—little dull, perhaps—little prosy——

[Glancing at Justina.] At one time we thought he was rather inclined to pay ’Tina——

What rot, mother!

Oh!

However, he married this creature, Olive Harker—daughter of a Major Harker——

“Crummy” Harker—stout man——

Four years ago this month.

Yes, in the summer of the year in which Theo was married to Fraser of Locheen.