An Ideal Husband - Oscar Wilde (unputdownable books .txt) 📗

the smoking room. That is a paradox, sir. I hate paradoxes. Lord Goring So do I, father. Everybody one meets is a paradox nowadays. It is a great bore. It makes society so obvious. Lord Caversham Turning round, and looking at his son beneath his bushy eyebrows. Do you always really understand what you say, sir? Lord Goring After some hesitation. Yes, father, if I listen attentively. Lord Caversham Indignantly. If you listen attentively!⁠ ⁠… Conceited young puppy! Goes off grumbling into the smoking room. Phipps enters. Lord Goring Phipps, there is a lady coming to see me this evening on particular business. Show her into the drawing room when she arrives. You understand? Phipps Yes, my lord. Lord Goring It is a matter of the gravest importance, Phipps. Phipps I understand, my lord. Lord Goring No one else is to be admitted, under any circumstances. Phipps I understand, my lord. Bell rings. Lord Goring Ah! that is probably the lady. I shall see her myself. Just as he is going towards the door Lord Caversham enters from the smoking room. Lord Caversham Well, sir? am I to wait attendance on you? Lord Goring Considerably perplexed. In a moment, father. Do excuse me. Lord Caversham goes back. Well, remember my instructions, Phipps⁠—into that room. Phipps Yes, my lord. Lord Goring goes into the smoking room. Harold, the footman shows Mrs. Cheveley in. Lamia-like, she is in green and silver. She has a cloak of black satin, lined with dead rose-leaf silk. Harold What name, madam? Mrs. Cheveley To Phipps, who advances towards her. Is Lord Goring not here? I was told he was at home? Phipps His lordship is engaged at present with Lord Caversham, madam. Turns a cold, glassy eye on Harold, who at once retires. Mrs. Cheveley To herself. How very filial! Phipps His lordship told me to ask you, madam, to be kind enough to wait in the drawing room for him. His lordship will come to you there. Mrs. Cheveley With a look of surprise. Lord Goring expects me? Phipps Yes, madam. Mrs. Cheveley Are you quite sure? Phipps His lordship told me that if a lady called I was to ask her to wait in the drawing room. Goes to the door of the drawing room and opens it. His lordship’s directions on the subject were very precise. Mrs. Cheveley To herself. How thoughtful of him! To expect the unexpected shows a thoroughly modern intellect. Goes towards the drawing room and looks in. Ugh! How dreary a bachelor’s drawing room always looks. I shall have to alter all this. Phipps brings the lamp from the writing-table. No, I don’t care for that lamp. It is far too glaring. Light some candles. Phipps Replaces lamp. Certainly, madam. Mrs. Cheveley I hope the candles have very becoming shades. Phipps We have had no complaints about them, madam, as yet. Passes into the drawing room and begins to light the candles. Mrs. Cheveley To herself. I wonder what woman he is waiting for tonight. It will be delightful to catch him. Men always look so silly when they are caught. And they are always being caught. Looks about room and approaches the writing-table. What a very interesting room! What a very interesting picture! Wonder what his correspondence is like. Takes up letters. Oh, what a very uninteresting correspondence! Bills and cards, debts and dowagers! Who on earth writes to him on pink paper? How silly to write on pink paper! It looks like the beginning of a middle-class romance. Romance should never begin with sentiment. It should begin with science and end with a settlement. Puts letter down, then takes it up again. I know that handwriting. That is Gertrude Chiltern’s. I remember it perfectly. The ten commandments in every stroke of the pen, and the moral law all over the page. Wonder what Gertrude is writing to him about? Something horrid about me, I suppose. How I detest that woman! Reads it. “I trust you. I want you. I am coming to you. Gertrude.” “I trust you. I want you. I am coming to you.” A look of triumph comes over her face. She is just about to steal the letter, when Phipps comes in. Phipps The candles in the drawing room are lit, madam, as you directed. Mrs. Cheveley Thank you. Rises hastily and slips the letter under a large silver-cased blotting-book that is lying on the table. Phipps I trust the shades will be to your liking, madam. They are the most becoming we have. They are the same as his lordship uses himself when he is dressing for dinner. Mrs. Cheveley With a smile. Then I am sure they will be perfectly right. Phipps Gravely. Thank you, madam. Mrs. Cheveley goes into the drawing room. Phipps closes the door and retires. The door is then slowly opened, and Mrs. Cheveley comes out and creeps stealthily towards the writing-table. Suddenly voices are heard from the smoking room. Mrs. Cheveley grows pale, and stops. The voices grow louder, and she goes back into the drawing room, biting her lip. Enter Lord Goring and Lord Caversham. Lord Goring Expostulating. My dear father, if I am to get married, surely you will allow me to choose the time, place, and person? Particularly the person. Lord Caversham Testily. That is a matter for me, sir. You would probably make a very poor choice. It is I who should be consulted, not you. There is property at stake. It is not a matter for affection. Affection comes later on in married life. Lord Goring Yes. In married life affection comes when people thoroughly dislike each other, father, doesn’t it? Puts on Lord Caversham’s cloak for him. Lord Caversham Certainly, sir. I mean certainly not, air. You are talking very foolishly tonight. What I say is that marriage is a matter for common sense. Lord Goring But women who have common sense are so curiously plain, father, aren’t they? Of course I only speak from hearsay. Lord Caversham No woman, plain or