What Every Woman Knows - Sir James Matthew Barrie (top books to read .txt) 📗
- Author: Sir James Matthew Barrie
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general idea of it. Just see, Maggie, if I know the peroration. 'In conclusion, Mr. Speaker, these are the reasonable demands of every intelligent Englishwoman'-- I had better say British woman--'and I am proud to nail them to my flag'---
[The visitor is properly impressed.]
COMTESSE. Oho! defies his leaders!
JOHN. 'So long as I can do so without embarrassing the Government.'
COMTESSE. Ah, ah, Mr. Shand!
JOHN. 'I call upon the Front Bench, sir, loyally but firmly'--
COMTESSE. Firm again!
JOHN. --'either to accept my Bill, or to promise WITHOUT DELAY to bring in one of their own; and if they decline to do so I solemnly warn them that though I will not press the matter to a division just now'--
COMTESSE. Ahem!
JOHN. 'I will bring it forward again in the near future.' And now Comtesse, you know that I'm not going to divide--and not another soul knows it.
COMTESSE. I am indeed flattered by your confidence.
JOHN. I've only told you because I don't care who knows now.
COMTESSE. Oh!
[Somehow MAGGIE seems to be dissatisfied.]
MAGGIE. But why is that, John?
JOHN. I daren't keep the Government in doubt any longer about what I mean to do. I'll show the whips the speech privately to-night.
MAGGIE [who still wants to know]. But not to go to a division is hedging, isn't it? Is that strong?
JOHN. To make the speech at all, Maggie, is stronger than most would dare. They would do for me if I went to a division.
MAGGIE. Bark but not bite?
JOHN. Now, now, Maggie, you're out of your depth.
MAGGIE. I suppose that's it.
[The COMTESSE remains in the shallows.]
COMTESSE. But what will the ladies say, Mr. Shand?
JOHN. They won't like it, Comtesse, but they've got to lump it.
[Here the maid appears with a card for MAGGIE, who considers it quietly.]
JOHN. Any one of importance?
MAGGIE. No.
JOHN. Then I'm ready, Maggie.
[This is evidently an intimation that she is to open the folding-doors, and he makes an effective entrance into the dining-room, his thumb in his waistcoat. There is a delicious clapping of hands from the committee, and the door closes. Not till then does MAGGIE, who has grown thoughtful, tell her maid to admit the visitor.]
COMTESSE. Another lady, Mrs. Shand?
MAGGIE. The card says 'Mr. Charles Venables.'
[The COMTESSE is really interested at last.]
COMTESSE. Charles Venables! Do you know him?
MAGGIE. I think I call to mind meeting one of that name at the Foreign Office party.
COMTESSE. One of that name! He who is a Minister of your Cabinet. But as you know him so little why should he call on you?
MAGGIE. I wonder.
[MAGGIE's glance wanders to the drawer in which she has replaced JOHN's speech.]
COMTESSE. Well, well, I shall take care of you, petite.
MAGGIE. Do you know him?
COMTESSE. Do I know him! The last time I saw him he asked me to--to-- hem!--ma cherie, it was thirty years ago.
MAGGIE. Thirty years!
COMTESSE. I was a pretty woman then. I dare say I shall detest him now; but if I find I do not--let us have a little plot--I shall drop this book; and then perhaps you will be so charming as--as not to be here for a little while?
[MR. VENABLES, who enters, is such a courtly seigneur that he seems to bring the eighteenth century with him; you feel that his sedan chair is at the door. He stoops over MAGGIE's plebeian hand.]
VENABLES. I hope you will pardon my calling, Mrs. Shand; we had such a pleasant talk the other evening.
[MAGGIE, of course, is at once deceived by his gracious manner.]
MAGGIE. I think it's kind of you. Do you know each other? The Comtesse de la Briere.
[He repeats the name with some emotion, and the COMTESSE, half mischievously, half sadly, holds a hand before her face.]
VENABLES. Comtesse.
COMTESSE. Thirty years, Mr. Venables.
[He gallantly removes the hand that screens her face.]
VENABLES. It does not seem so much.
[She gives him a similar scrutiny.]
COMTESSE. Mon Dieu, it seems all that.
[They smile rather ruefully. MAGGIE like a kind hostess relieves the tension.]
MAGGIE. The Comtesse has taken a cottage in Surrey for the summer.
VENABLES. I am overjoyed.
COMTESSE. No, Charles, you are not. You no longer care. Fickle one! And it is only thirty years.
[He sinks into a chair beside her.]
VENABLES. Those heavenly evenings, Comtesse, on the Bosphorus.
COMTESSE. I refuse to talk of them. I hate you.
[But she drops the book, and MAGGIE fades from the room. It is not a very clever departure, and the old diplomatist smiles. Then he sighs a beautiful sigh, for he does all things beautifully.]
VENABLES. It is moonlight, Comtesse, on the Golden Horn.
COMTESSE. Who are those two young things in a caique?
VENABLES. Is he the brave Leander, Comtesse, and is she Hero of the Lamp?
COMTESSE. No, she is the foolish wife of the French Ambassador, and he is a good-for-nothing British attache trying to get her husband's secrets out of her.
VENABLES. Is it possible! They part at a certain garden gate.
COMTESSE. Oh, Charles, Charles!
VENABLES. But you promised to come back; I waited there till dawn. Blanche, if you HAD come back--
COMTESSE. How is Mrs. Venables?
VENABLES. She is rather poorly. I think it's gout.
COMTESSE. And you?
VENABLES. I creak a little in the mornings.
COMTESSE. So do I. There is such a good man at Wiesbaden.
VENABLES. The Homburg fellow is better. The way he patched me up last summer--Oh, Lord, Lord!
COMTESSE. Yes, Charles, the game is up; we are two old fogies. [They groan in unison; then she raps him sharply on the knuckles.] Tell me, sir, what are you doing here?
VENABLES. Merely a friendly call.
COMTESSE. I do not believe it.
VENABLES. The same woman; the old delightful candour.
COMTESSE. The same man; the old fibs. [She sees that the door is asking a question.] Yes, come, Mrs. Shand, I have had quite enough of him; I warn you he is here for some crafty purpose.
MAGGIE [drawing back timidly]. Surely not?
VENABLES. Really, Comtesse, you make conversation difficult. To show that my intentions are innocent, Mrs. Shand, I propose that you choose the subject.
MAGGIE [relieved]. There, Comtesse.
VENABLES. I hope your husband is well?
MAGGIE. Yes, thank you. [With a happy thought] I decide that we talk about him.
VENABLES. If you wish it.
COMTESSE. Be careful; HE has chosen the subject.
MAGGIE. _I_ chose it, didn't I?
VENABLES. You know you did.
MAGGIE [appealingly]. You admire John?
VENABLES. Very much. But he puzzles me a little. You Scots, Mrs. Shand, are such a mixture of the practical and the emotional that you escape out of an Englishman's hand like a trout.
MAGGIE [open-eyed]. Do we?
VENABLES. Well, not you, but your husband. I have known few men make a worse beginning in the House. He had the most atrocious bow-wow public-park manner---
COMTESSE. I remember that manner!
MAGGIE. No, he hadn't.
VENABLES [soothingly]. At first. But by his second session he had shed all that, and he is now a pleasure to listen to. By the way, Comtesse, have you found any dark intention in that?
COMTESSE. You wanted to know whether he talks over these matter with his wife; and she has told you that he does not.
MAGGIE [indignantly]. I haven't said a word about it, have I?
VENABLES. Not a word. Then, again, I admire him for his impromptu speeches.
MAGGIE. What is impromptu?
VENABLES. Unprepared. They have contained some grave blunders not so much of judgment as of taste---
MAGGIE [hotly]. _I_ don't think so.
VENABLES. Pardon me. But he has righted himself subsequently in the neatest way. I have always found that the man whose second thoughts are good is worth watching. Well, Comtesse, I see you have something to say.
COMTESSE. You are wondering whether she can tell you who gives him his second thoughts.
MAGGIE. Gives them to John? I would like to see anybody try to give thoughts to John.
VENABLES. Quite so.
COMTESSE. Is there anything more that has roused your admiration Charles?
VENABLES [purring]. Let me see. Yes, we are all much edified by his humour.
COMTESSE [surprised indeed]. His humour? That man!
MAGGIE [with hauteur]. Why not?
VENABLES. I assure you, Comtesse, some of the neat things in his speeches convulse the house. A word has even been coined for them-- Shandisms.
COMTESSE [slowly recovering from a blow]. Humour!
VENABLES. In conversation, I admit, he strikes one as being--ah-- somewhat lacking in humour.
COMTESSE [pouncing]. You are wondering who supplies his speeches with the humour.
MAGGIE. Supplies John?
VENABLES. Now that you mention it, some of his Shandisms do have a curiously feminine quality.
COMTESSE. You have thought it might be a woman.
VENABLES. Really, Comtesse--
COMTESSE. I see it all. Charles, you thought it might be the wife!
VENABLES [flinging up his hands]. I own up.
MAGGIE [bewildered]. Me?
VENABLES. Forgive me, I see I was wrong.
MAGGIE [alarmed]. Have I been doing John any harm?
VENABLES. On the contrary, I am relieved to know that there are no hairpins in his speeches. If he is at home, Mrs. Shand, may I see him? I am going to be rather charming to him.
MAGGIE [drawn in two directions]. Yes, he is--oh yes--but--
VENABLES. That is to say, Comtesse, if he proves himself the man I believe him to be.
[This arrests MAGGIE almost as she has reached the dining-room door.]
MAGGIE [hesitating]. He is very busy just now.
VENABLES [smiling]. I think he will see me.
MAGGIE. Is it something about his speech?
VENABLES [the smile hardening]. Well, yes, it is.
MAGGIE. Then I dare say I could tell you what you want to know without troubling him, as I've been typing it.
VENABLES [with a sigh]. I don't acquire information in that way.
COMTESSE. I trust not.
MAGGIE. There's no secret about it. He is to show it to the whips tonight.
VENABLES [sharply]. You are sure of that?
COMTESSE. It is quite true, Charles. I heard him say so; and indeed he repeated what he called the 'peroration' before me.
MAGGIE. I know it by heart. [She plays a bold game.] 'These are the demands of all intelligent British women, and I am proud to nail them to my flag'--
COMTESSE. The very words, Mrs. Shand.
MAGGIE [looking at her imploringly]. 'And I don't care how they may embarrass the Government.' [The COMTESSE is bereft of speech, so suddenly has she been introduced to the real MAGGIE SHAND]. 'If the right honourable gentleman will give us his pledge to introduce a similar Bill this session I will willingly withdraw mine; but otherwise I solemnly warn him that I will press the matter now to a division.'
[She turns her face from the great man; she has gone white.]
VENABLES [after a pause]. Capital.
[The blood returns to MAGGIE's heart.]
COMTESSE [who is beginning to
[The visitor is properly impressed.]
COMTESSE. Oho! defies his leaders!
JOHN. 'So long as I can do so without embarrassing the Government.'
COMTESSE. Ah, ah, Mr. Shand!
JOHN. 'I call upon the Front Bench, sir, loyally but firmly'--
COMTESSE. Firm again!
JOHN. --'either to accept my Bill, or to promise WITHOUT DELAY to bring in one of their own; and if they decline to do so I solemnly warn them that though I will not press the matter to a division just now'--
COMTESSE. Ahem!
JOHN. 'I will bring it forward again in the near future.' And now Comtesse, you know that I'm not going to divide--and not another soul knows it.
COMTESSE. I am indeed flattered by your confidence.
JOHN. I've only told you because I don't care who knows now.
COMTESSE. Oh!
[Somehow MAGGIE seems to be dissatisfied.]
MAGGIE. But why is that, John?
JOHN. I daren't keep the Government in doubt any longer about what I mean to do. I'll show the whips the speech privately to-night.
MAGGIE [who still wants to know]. But not to go to a division is hedging, isn't it? Is that strong?
JOHN. To make the speech at all, Maggie, is stronger than most would dare. They would do for me if I went to a division.
MAGGIE. Bark but not bite?
JOHN. Now, now, Maggie, you're out of your depth.
MAGGIE. I suppose that's it.
[The COMTESSE remains in the shallows.]
COMTESSE. But what will the ladies say, Mr. Shand?
JOHN. They won't like it, Comtesse, but they've got to lump it.
[Here the maid appears with a card for MAGGIE, who considers it quietly.]
JOHN. Any one of importance?
MAGGIE. No.
JOHN. Then I'm ready, Maggie.
[This is evidently an intimation that she is to open the folding-doors, and he makes an effective entrance into the dining-room, his thumb in his waistcoat. There is a delicious clapping of hands from the committee, and the door closes. Not till then does MAGGIE, who has grown thoughtful, tell her maid to admit the visitor.]
COMTESSE. Another lady, Mrs. Shand?
MAGGIE. The card says 'Mr. Charles Venables.'
[The COMTESSE is really interested at last.]
COMTESSE. Charles Venables! Do you know him?
MAGGIE. I think I call to mind meeting one of that name at the Foreign Office party.
COMTESSE. One of that name! He who is a Minister of your Cabinet. But as you know him so little why should he call on you?
MAGGIE. I wonder.
[MAGGIE's glance wanders to the drawer in which she has replaced JOHN's speech.]
COMTESSE. Well, well, I shall take care of you, petite.
MAGGIE. Do you know him?
COMTESSE. Do I know him! The last time I saw him he asked me to--to-- hem!--ma cherie, it was thirty years ago.
MAGGIE. Thirty years!
COMTESSE. I was a pretty woman then. I dare say I shall detest him now; but if I find I do not--let us have a little plot--I shall drop this book; and then perhaps you will be so charming as--as not to be here for a little while?
[MR. VENABLES, who enters, is such a courtly seigneur that he seems to bring the eighteenth century with him; you feel that his sedan chair is at the door. He stoops over MAGGIE's plebeian hand.]
VENABLES. I hope you will pardon my calling, Mrs. Shand; we had such a pleasant talk the other evening.
[MAGGIE, of course, is at once deceived by his gracious manner.]
MAGGIE. I think it's kind of you. Do you know each other? The Comtesse de la Briere.
[He repeats the name with some emotion, and the COMTESSE, half mischievously, half sadly, holds a hand before her face.]
VENABLES. Comtesse.
COMTESSE. Thirty years, Mr. Venables.
[He gallantly removes the hand that screens her face.]
VENABLES. It does not seem so much.
[She gives him a similar scrutiny.]
COMTESSE. Mon Dieu, it seems all that.
[They smile rather ruefully. MAGGIE like a kind hostess relieves the tension.]
MAGGIE. The Comtesse has taken a cottage in Surrey for the summer.
VENABLES. I am overjoyed.
COMTESSE. No, Charles, you are not. You no longer care. Fickle one! And it is only thirty years.
[He sinks into a chair beside her.]
VENABLES. Those heavenly evenings, Comtesse, on the Bosphorus.
COMTESSE. I refuse to talk of them. I hate you.
[But she drops the book, and MAGGIE fades from the room. It is not a very clever departure, and the old diplomatist smiles. Then he sighs a beautiful sigh, for he does all things beautifully.]
VENABLES. It is moonlight, Comtesse, on the Golden Horn.
COMTESSE. Who are those two young things in a caique?
VENABLES. Is he the brave Leander, Comtesse, and is she Hero of the Lamp?
COMTESSE. No, she is the foolish wife of the French Ambassador, and he is a good-for-nothing British attache trying to get her husband's secrets out of her.
VENABLES. Is it possible! They part at a certain garden gate.
COMTESSE. Oh, Charles, Charles!
VENABLES. But you promised to come back; I waited there till dawn. Blanche, if you HAD come back--
COMTESSE. How is Mrs. Venables?
VENABLES. She is rather poorly. I think it's gout.
COMTESSE. And you?
VENABLES. I creak a little in the mornings.
COMTESSE. So do I. There is such a good man at Wiesbaden.
VENABLES. The Homburg fellow is better. The way he patched me up last summer--Oh, Lord, Lord!
COMTESSE. Yes, Charles, the game is up; we are two old fogies. [They groan in unison; then she raps him sharply on the knuckles.] Tell me, sir, what are you doing here?
VENABLES. Merely a friendly call.
COMTESSE. I do not believe it.
VENABLES. The same woman; the old delightful candour.
COMTESSE. The same man; the old fibs. [She sees that the door is asking a question.] Yes, come, Mrs. Shand, I have had quite enough of him; I warn you he is here for some crafty purpose.
MAGGIE [drawing back timidly]. Surely not?
VENABLES. Really, Comtesse, you make conversation difficult. To show that my intentions are innocent, Mrs. Shand, I propose that you choose the subject.
MAGGIE [relieved]. There, Comtesse.
VENABLES. I hope your husband is well?
MAGGIE. Yes, thank you. [With a happy thought] I decide that we talk about him.
VENABLES. If you wish it.
COMTESSE. Be careful; HE has chosen the subject.
MAGGIE. _I_ chose it, didn't I?
VENABLES. You know you did.
MAGGIE [appealingly]. You admire John?
VENABLES. Very much. But he puzzles me a little. You Scots, Mrs. Shand, are such a mixture of the practical and the emotional that you escape out of an Englishman's hand like a trout.
MAGGIE [open-eyed]. Do we?
VENABLES. Well, not you, but your husband. I have known few men make a worse beginning in the House. He had the most atrocious bow-wow public-park manner---
COMTESSE. I remember that manner!
MAGGIE. No, he hadn't.
VENABLES [soothingly]. At first. But by his second session he had shed all that, and he is now a pleasure to listen to. By the way, Comtesse, have you found any dark intention in that?
COMTESSE. You wanted to know whether he talks over these matter with his wife; and she has told you that he does not.
MAGGIE [indignantly]. I haven't said a word about it, have I?
VENABLES. Not a word. Then, again, I admire him for his impromptu speeches.
MAGGIE. What is impromptu?
VENABLES. Unprepared. They have contained some grave blunders not so much of judgment as of taste---
MAGGIE [hotly]. _I_ don't think so.
VENABLES. Pardon me. But he has righted himself subsequently in the neatest way. I have always found that the man whose second thoughts are good is worth watching. Well, Comtesse, I see you have something to say.
COMTESSE. You are wondering whether she can tell you who gives him his second thoughts.
MAGGIE. Gives them to John? I would like to see anybody try to give thoughts to John.
VENABLES. Quite so.
COMTESSE. Is there anything more that has roused your admiration Charles?
VENABLES [purring]. Let me see. Yes, we are all much edified by his humour.
COMTESSE [surprised indeed]. His humour? That man!
MAGGIE [with hauteur]. Why not?
VENABLES. I assure you, Comtesse, some of the neat things in his speeches convulse the house. A word has even been coined for them-- Shandisms.
COMTESSE [slowly recovering from a blow]. Humour!
VENABLES. In conversation, I admit, he strikes one as being--ah-- somewhat lacking in humour.
COMTESSE [pouncing]. You are wondering who supplies his speeches with the humour.
MAGGIE. Supplies John?
VENABLES. Now that you mention it, some of his Shandisms do have a curiously feminine quality.
COMTESSE. You have thought it might be a woman.
VENABLES. Really, Comtesse--
COMTESSE. I see it all. Charles, you thought it might be the wife!
VENABLES [flinging up his hands]. I own up.
MAGGIE [bewildered]. Me?
VENABLES. Forgive me, I see I was wrong.
MAGGIE [alarmed]. Have I been doing John any harm?
VENABLES. On the contrary, I am relieved to know that there are no hairpins in his speeches. If he is at home, Mrs. Shand, may I see him? I am going to be rather charming to him.
MAGGIE [drawn in two directions]. Yes, he is--oh yes--but--
VENABLES. That is to say, Comtesse, if he proves himself the man I believe him to be.
[This arrests MAGGIE almost as she has reached the dining-room door.]
MAGGIE [hesitating]. He is very busy just now.
VENABLES [smiling]. I think he will see me.
MAGGIE. Is it something about his speech?
VENABLES [the smile hardening]. Well, yes, it is.
MAGGIE. Then I dare say I could tell you what you want to know without troubling him, as I've been typing it.
VENABLES [with a sigh]. I don't acquire information in that way.
COMTESSE. I trust not.
MAGGIE. There's no secret about it. He is to show it to the whips tonight.
VENABLES [sharply]. You are sure of that?
COMTESSE. It is quite true, Charles. I heard him say so; and indeed he repeated what he called the 'peroration' before me.
MAGGIE. I know it by heart. [She plays a bold game.] 'These are the demands of all intelligent British women, and I am proud to nail them to my flag'--
COMTESSE. The very words, Mrs. Shand.
MAGGIE [looking at her imploringly]. 'And I don't care how they may embarrass the Government.' [The COMTESSE is bereft of speech, so suddenly has she been introduced to the real MAGGIE SHAND]. 'If the right honourable gentleman will give us his pledge to introduce a similar Bill this session I will willingly withdraw mine; but otherwise I solemnly warn him that I will press the matter now to a division.'
[She turns her face from the great man; she has gone white.]
VENABLES [after a pause]. Capital.
[The blood returns to MAGGIE's heart.]
COMTESSE [who is beginning to
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