Previous - Next

Ah, if you had a father,
Gerald, he wouldn't let you waste your life here. He would send
you off with Lord Illingworth at once. But mothers are so weak.
They give up to their sons in everything. We are all heart, all
heart. Come, dear, I must call at the rectory and inquire for Mrs.
Daubeny, who, I am afraid, is far from well. It is wonderful how
the Archdeacon bears up, quite wonderful. He is the most
sympathetic of husbands. Quite a model. Good-bye, Gerald, give my
fondest love to your mother.

MRS. ALLONBY. Good-bye, Mr. Arbuthnot.

GERALD. Good-bye.

[Exit LADY HUNSTANTON and MRS. ALLONBY. GERALD sits down and reads
over his letter.]

GERALD. What name can I sign? I, who have no right to any name.
[Signs name, puts letter into envelope, addresses it, and is about
to seal it, when door L.C. opens and MRS. ARBUTHNOT enters. GERALD
lays down sealing-wax. Mother and son look at each other.]

LADY HUNSTANTON. [Through French window at the back.] Good-bye
again, Gerald. We are taking the short cut across your pretty
garden. Now, remember my advice to you - start at once with Lord
Illingworth.

MRS. ALLONBY. AU REVOIR, Mr. Arbuthnot. Mind you bring me back
something nice from your travels - not an Indian shawl - on no
account an Indian shawl.

[Exeunt.]

GERALD. Mother, I have just written to him.

MRS. ARBUTHNOT. To whom?

GERALD. To my father. I have written to tell him to come here at
four o'clock this afternoon.

MRS. ARBUTHNOT. He shall not come here. He shall not cross the
threshold of my house.

GERALD. He must come.

MRS. ARBUTHNOT. Gerald, if you are going away with Lord
Illingworth, go at once. Go before it kills me: but don't ask me
to meet him.

GERALD. Mother, you don't understand. Nothing in the world would
induce me to go away with Lord Illingworth, or to leave you.
Surely you know me well enough for that. No: I have written to him
to say -

MRS. ARBUTHNOT. What can you have to say to him?

GERALD. Can't you guess, mother, what I have written in this
letter?

MRS. ARBUTHNOT. No.

GERALD. Mother, surely you can. Think, think what must be done,
now, at once, within the next few days.

MRS. ARBUTHNOT. There is nothing to be done.

GERALD. I have written to Lord Illingworth to tell him that he
must marry you.

MRS. ARBUTHNOT. Marry me?

GERALD. Mother, I will force him to do it. The wrong that has
been done you must be repaired. Atonement must be made. Justice
may be slow, mother, but it comes in the end. In a few days you
shall be Lord Illingworth's lawful wife.

MRS. ARBUTHNOT. But, Gerald -

GERALD. I will insist upon his doing it. I will make him do it:
he will not dare to refuse.

MRS. ARBUTHNOT. But, Gerald, it is I who refuse. I will not marry
Lord Illingworth.

GERALD. Not marry him? Mother!

Previous - Next