The Second Mrs. Tanqueray by Arthur W. Pinero (top 100 novels TXT) 📕

of it as well as I. It would soothe me; it would make me less horribly restless; it would take this⁠—this⁠—mischievous feeling from me. Coaxingly. Aubrey! Aubrey Have patience; everything will come right. Paula Yes, if you help me. Aubrey In the meantime you will tear up your letter to Lady Orreyed, won’t you? Paula Kissing his hand. Of course I will⁠—anything! Aubrey Ah, thank you, dearest! Laughing. Why, good gracious!⁠—ha, ha!⁠—just imagine “Saint Ellean” and that woman side by side! Paula Going back with a cry. Ah! Aubrey What? Paula Passionately. It’s Ellean you’re considering, not me? It’s all Ellean with you! Ellean! Ellean! Ellean re-enters. Ellean Did you call me, Paula? Clenching his hands, Aubrey turns away and goes out. Is papa angry? Paula I drive him distracted sometimes. There, I confess it! Ellean Do you? Oh, why do you? Paula Because I⁠—because I’m jealous. Ellean Jealous? Paula Yes⁠—of you. Ellean is silent. Well, what do you think of that? Ellean I knew it; I’ve seen it. It hurts me dreadfully. What do you wish me to do? Go away? Paula Leave us! Beckoning her with a motion of the head. Look here! Ellean goes to Paula slowly and unresponsively. You could cure me of my jealousy very easily. Why don’t you⁠—like me? Ellean What do you mean by⁠—like you? I don’t understand. Paula Love me. Ellean Love is not a feeling that is under one’s control. I shall alter as time goes on, perhaps. I didn’t begin to love my father deeply till a few months ago, and then I obeyed my mother. Paula Ah, yes, you dream things, don’t you⁠—see them in your sleep? You fancy your mother speaks to you? Ellean When you have lost your mother it is a comfort to believe that she is dead only to this life, that she still watches over her child. I do believe that of my mother. Paula Well, and so you haven’t been bidden to love me? Ellean After a pause, almost inaudibly. No. Paula Dreams are only a hash-up of one’s day-thoughts, I suppose you know. Think intently of anything, and it’s bound to come back to you at night. I don’t cultivate dreams myself. Ellean Ah, I knew you would only sneer! Paula I’m not sneering; I’m speaking the truth. I say that if you cared for me in the daytime I should soon make friends with those nightmares of yours. Ellean, why don’t you try to look on me as your second mother? Of course there are not many years between us, but I’m ever so much older than you⁠—in experience. I shall have no children of my own, I know that; it would be a real comfort to me if you would make me feel we belonged to each other. Won’t you? Perhaps you think I’m odd⁠—not nice. Well, the fact is I’ve two sides to my nature, and I’ve let the one almost smother the other. A few years ago I went through some trouble, and since then I haven’t shed a tear. I believe if you put your arms round me just once I should run upstairs and have a good cry. There, I’ve talked to you as I’ve never talked to a woman in my life. Ellean, you seem to fear me. Don’t! Kiss me! With a cry, almost of despair, Ellean turns from Paula and sinks on to the settee, covering her face with her hands. Paula Indignantly. Oh! Why is it! How dare you treat me like this? What do you mean by it? What do you mean? A Servant enters. Servant Mr. Drummle, ma’am. Cayley Drummle, in riding dress, enters briskly. The Servant retires. Paula Recovering herself. Well, Cayley! Drummle Shaking hands with her cordially. How are you? Shaking hands with Ellean, who rises. I saw you in the distance an hour ago, in the gorse near Stapleton’s. Ellean I didn’t see you, Mr. Drummle. Drummle My dear Ellean, it is my experience that no charming young lady of nineteen ever does see a man of forty-five. Laughing. Ha, Ha! Ellean Going to the door. Paula, papa wishes me to drive down to the village with you this morning. Do you care to take me? Paula Coldly. Oh, by all means. Pray tell Watts to balance the cart for three. Ellean goes out. Drummle How’s Aubrey? Paula Very well⁠—when Ellean’s about the house. Drummle And you? I needn’t ask. Paula Walking away to the window. Oh, a dog’s life, my dear Cayley, mine. Drummle Eh? Paula Doesn’t that define a happy marriage? I’m sleek, well-kept, well-fed, never without a bone to gnaw and fresh straw to lie upon. Gazing out of the window. Oh, dear me! Drummle H’m! Well, I heartily congratulate you on your kennel. The view from the terrace here is superb. Paula Yes, I can see London. Drummle London! Not quite so far, surely? Paula I can. Also the Mediterranean, on a fine day. I wonder what Algiers looks like this morning from the sea! Impulsively. Oh, Cayley, do you remember those jolly times on board Peter Jarman’s yacht when we lay off⁠—? Stopping suddenly, seeing Drummle staring at her. Good gracious! What are we talking about! Aubrey enters. Aubrey To Drummle. Dear old chap! Has Paula asked you? Paula Not yet. Aubrey We want you to come to us, now that you’re leaving Mrs. Cortelyon⁠—at once, today. Stay a month, as long as you please⁠—eh, Paula? Paula As long as you can possibly endure it⁠—do, Cayley. Drummle Looking at Aubrey. Delighted. To Paula. Charming of you to have me. Paula My dear man, you’re a blessing. I must telegraph to London for more fish! A strange appetite to cater for! Something to do, to do, to do! She goes out in a mood of almost childish delight. Drummle Eyeing Aubrey. Well? Aubrey With a wearied, anxious look. Well, Cayley? Drummle How are you getting on? Aubrey My position doesn’t grow less difficult. I told you, when I met you last week, of this feverish, jealous