Sketches in Lavender, Blue and Green [79]
it, and very good it was too, for the price. That old Indian major--what was his name?--said it suited him better than anything else he had ever tried. He always used to drink a tumblerful before breakfast; such a funny thing to do. I've often wondered where she got it.
MR. TRAVERS. So did most people who tasted it. Marion wants to forget those lessons, not learn them. She is going to marry a rich man who will be able to entertain his guests decently.
MRS. TRAVERS. Oh, well, James, I don't know. None of us can afford to live up to the income we want people to think we've got. One must economise somewhere. A pretty figure we should cut in the county if I didn't know how to make fivepence look like a shilling. And, besides, there are certain people that one has to be civil to, that, at the same time, one doesn't want to introduce into one's regular circle. If you take my advice, Marion, you won't encourage those sisters of Harry's more than you can help. They're dear sweet girls, and you can be very nice to them; but don't have them too much about. Their manners are terribly old-fashioned, and they've no notion how to dress, and those sort of people let down the tone of a house.
MARION. I'm not likely to have many "dear sweet girls" on my visiting list. [With a laugh.] There will hardly be enough in common to make the company desired, on either side.
MRS. TRAVERS. Well, I only want you to be careful, my dear. So much depends on how you begin, and with prudence there's really no reason why you shouldn't do very well. I suppose there's no doubt about Harry's income. He won't object to a few inquiries?
MARION. I think you may trust me to see to that, mamma. It would be a bad bargain for me, if even the cash were not certain.
MR. TRAVERS [jumping up]. Oh, I do wish you women wouldn't discuss the matter in that horribly business-like way. One would think the girl was selling herself.
MRS. TRAVERS. Oh, don't be foolish, James. One must look at the practical side of these things. Marriage is a matter of sentiment to a man--very proper that it should be. A woman has to remember that she's fixing her position for life.
MARION. You see, papa dear, it's her one venture. If she doesn't sell herself to advantage then, she doesn't get another opportunity--very easily.
MR. TRAVERS. Umph! When I was a young man, girls talked more about love and less about income.
MARION. Perhaps they had not our educational advantages.
[DAN enters from the garden. He is a man of a little over forty, his linen somewhat frayed about the edges.]
MRS. TRAVERS. Ah! We were just wondering where all you people had got to.
DAN. We've been out sailing. I've been sent up to fetch you. It's delightful on the river. The moon is just rising.
MRS. TRAVERS. But it's so cold.
MR. TRAVERS. Oh, never mind the cold. It's many a long year since you and I looked at the moon together. It will do us good.
MRS. TRAVERS. Ah, dear. Boys will be boys. Give me my wrap then.
[DAN places it about her. They move towards the window, where they stand talking. MARION has slipped out and returns with her father's cap. He takes her face between his hands and looks at her.]
MR. TRAVERS. Do you really care for Harry, Marion?
MARION. As much as one can care for a man with five thousand a year. Perhaps he will make it ten one day--then I shall care for him twice as much. [Laughs.]
MR. TRAVERS. And are you content with this marriage?
MARION. Quite.
[He shakes his head gravely at her.]
MRS. TRAVERS. Aren't you coming, Marion?
MARION. No. I'm feeling tired.
[MR. and MRS. TRAVERS go out.]
DAN. Are you going to leave Harry alone with two pairs of lovers?
MARION [with a laugh]. Yes--let him see how ridiculous they look. I hate the night--it follows you and asks questions. Shut it out. Come and talk to me. Amuse me.
DAN. What shall I talk to you about?
MARION. Oh, tell me all the news. What is the world doing? Who has run away with whose wife? Who has
MR. TRAVERS. So did most people who tasted it. Marion wants to forget those lessons, not learn them. She is going to marry a rich man who will be able to entertain his guests decently.
MRS. TRAVERS. Oh, well, James, I don't know. None of us can afford to live up to the income we want people to think we've got. One must economise somewhere. A pretty figure we should cut in the county if I didn't know how to make fivepence look like a shilling. And, besides, there are certain people that one has to be civil to, that, at the same time, one doesn't want to introduce into one's regular circle. If you take my advice, Marion, you won't encourage those sisters of Harry's more than you can help. They're dear sweet girls, and you can be very nice to them; but don't have them too much about. Their manners are terribly old-fashioned, and they've no notion how to dress, and those sort of people let down the tone of a house.
MARION. I'm not likely to have many "dear sweet girls" on my visiting list. [With a laugh.] There will hardly be enough in common to make the company desired, on either side.
MRS. TRAVERS. Well, I only want you to be careful, my dear. So much depends on how you begin, and with prudence there's really no reason why you shouldn't do very well. I suppose there's no doubt about Harry's income. He won't object to a few inquiries?
MARION. I think you may trust me to see to that, mamma. It would be a bad bargain for me, if even the cash were not certain.
MR. TRAVERS [jumping up]. Oh, I do wish you women wouldn't discuss the matter in that horribly business-like way. One would think the girl was selling herself.
MRS. TRAVERS. Oh, don't be foolish, James. One must look at the practical side of these things. Marriage is a matter of sentiment to a man--very proper that it should be. A woman has to remember that she's fixing her position for life.
MARION. You see, papa dear, it's her one venture. If she doesn't sell herself to advantage then, she doesn't get another opportunity--very easily.
MR. TRAVERS. Umph! When I was a young man, girls talked more about love and less about income.
MARION. Perhaps they had not our educational advantages.
[DAN enters from the garden. He is a man of a little over forty, his linen somewhat frayed about the edges.]
MRS. TRAVERS. Ah! We were just wondering where all you people had got to.
DAN. We've been out sailing. I've been sent up to fetch you. It's delightful on the river. The moon is just rising.
MRS. TRAVERS. But it's so cold.
MR. TRAVERS. Oh, never mind the cold. It's many a long year since you and I looked at the moon together. It will do us good.
MRS. TRAVERS. Ah, dear. Boys will be boys. Give me my wrap then.
[DAN places it about her. They move towards the window, where they stand talking. MARION has slipped out and returns with her father's cap. He takes her face between his hands and looks at her.]
MR. TRAVERS. Do you really care for Harry, Marion?
MARION. As much as one can care for a man with five thousand a year. Perhaps he will make it ten one day--then I shall care for him twice as much. [Laughs.]
MR. TRAVERS. And are you content with this marriage?
MARION. Quite.
[He shakes his head gravely at her.]
MRS. TRAVERS. Aren't you coming, Marion?
MARION. No. I'm feeling tired.
[MR. and MRS. TRAVERS go out.]
DAN. Are you going to leave Harry alone with two pairs of lovers?
MARION [with a laugh]. Yes--let him see how ridiculous they look. I hate the night--it follows you and asks questions. Shut it out. Come and talk to me. Amuse me.
DAN. What shall I talk to you about?
MARION. Oh, tell me all the news. What is the world doing? Who has run away with whose wife? Who has