Complete Works of Wilkie Collins (2000 page)

Wragge.
Mrs. Lecount! Good morning, ma’am. (
He advances to the gate.
) Glorious weather, isn’t it? Come in!

Mrs. L.
(
declining
). Thank you, sir. I am on my way to do my marketing for the house. I only stopped to admire your pretty cottage.

Wragge.
You are too good! I hope you have better accounts of your brother, ma’am?

Mrs. L.
Ah! you know about my brother, Mr. Bygrave?

Wragge.
Mr. Noel tells me you have a brother settled at Penzance, in Cornwall — a brother who has been dangerously ill.

Mrs. L.
He is getting better, Mr. Bygrave. I have heard again from his doctor this morning.

Wragge.
I congratulate you. Shall we see Mr. Noel to-day?

Mrs. L.
He will pass this way, sir, at his customary time, for his customary walk — with Me.

(
She bows to
WRAGGE,
and goes out on the right.
)

Wragge.
Stick to him as tight as you like, you she-cat. He will be married, in spite of you, in three days’ time! (
His tone changes, and becomes serious.
) I wonder what humour Magdalen is in this morning? It’s no easy task to manage her, now the day is fixed. (
He turns round and sees
MAGDALEN
at the back, still absorbed in herself.
) There she is! Good morning, my dear. What are you doing there? Admiring the view?

Mag.
(
coming slowly down to the front
). What is to-day?

Wragge.
Saturday.

Mag.
How many days —
 
— ? (
She stops.
)

Wragge.
Before the wedding day? You marry him on Wednesday next.

Mag.
(
to herself in low, despairing tones; counting the days on her fingers
). Sunday — one. Monday — two. Tuesday — three. Something may happen to
him.
Something may happen to
me.
One of us may die.

Wragge.
Can’t you realise it? Let me help you. Here is your Marriage License! That’s something real, isn’t it? I am going to-day to give the usual notice at the parish church here. There’s reality for you again. Solid reality. Fees.

Mag.
(
wildly
). Don’t show it to me! Don’t speak of it! Where is your wife?

Wragge.
Safe in-doors — out of Mrs. Lecount’s reach. I have given her a cookery-book, and I have insisted on her learning how to cook me an omelette before I let her stir out of the house. She’s safe in the kitchen — with omelette on the brain — till Wednesday next. (MAGDALEN
turns towards the cottage.
) Where are you going?

Mag.
(
sternly
). I am going to take refuge from myself — and from you.

Wragge.
With Mrs. Wragge?

Mag.
(
on the first step
). Poor Mrs. Wragge’s life is hard enough already. It shall not be made harder to serve our vile interests. You have set her her lesson. I am going to help her to learn it.

Wragge.
One word before you begin. Noel Vanstone is coming here directly, while his housekeeper’s back is turned. Am I, or am I not, to squeeze him on the subject of a marriage settlement?

Mag.
Say nothing about it. Leave the use to which he is to put his money for the future in my hands.

(
She goes into the cottage.
)

Wragge.
In her hands! There was a light in her eye that boded ill to somebody when she said that! (NOEL VANSTONE
appears on the promenade at the right.
WRAGGE
hurries to meet him.
) Good morning, Mr. Vanstone.

Noel
(
in terror at the gate
). Where’s Lecount?

Wragge.
Gone to market. Come in.

Noel.
I’ll stop in the garden. Lecount can’t listen here. (
He takes a chair.
) Can I see Miss Bygrave?

Wragge.
My niece is not visible yet. Later in the day, when you come out for your walk. — In the mean while, let us get to business. Do you thoroughly understand what we are to do between this and the wedding-day?

Noel.
Suppose we go over it again — for form’s sake?

Wragge.
Very good. We start from this position. For obvious reasons, your marriage is to be kept a secret from Mrs. Lecount, until you are off for the honeymoon, out of her reach. How do we manage to make your housekeeper leave this place?

Noel
(
in high glee
). By a pious fraud!

Wragge.
By a pious fraud. We know that Mrs. Lecount has a brother in Cornwall, from whom she has expectations. We know that the brother has been very ill. We arrange, through a friend of mine, that Mrs. Lecount shall receive a telegram from Penzance, on Monday next, calling her instantly to her brother’s bedside. Will she go; leaving you behind her, a prey to Mr. Bygrave and his niece?

Noel
(
as before
). Not she!

Wragge.
Not she! How do we meet that difficulty?

Noel
(
as before
). You’re to come and drink tea with us to-night — and you’re to quarrel with me — and we are not to communicate again, till Lecount has left Aldborough.

Wragge.
And you volunteer — don’t forget that! — to accompany Lecount as far as London. What do you tell her?

Noel
(
as before
). I tell her I’m sick of Aldborough after what has happened. I mean to try a week or so, for a change, in London.

Wragge.
Perfect! Lecount knows that no communication has passed between us, and believes you on the evidence of her own senses. She goes on to Cornwall by the train on Monday night. You return here by the train on Tuesday morning. And you are married on Wednesday, two hours before Mrs. Lecount can possibly get back from Penzance to this place. Neat — isn’t it?

Noel.
You’re a wonderful man, Mr. Bygrave!

Wragge.
Ha! ha! ha! One would think I had never done anything all my life but take people in!

Noel
(
humouring the joke
). I’d better look after my purse! How do I know I’m not in the company of a swindler?

Wragge.
How indeed! There’s many a true word spoken in jest — eh?

(
They both laugh heartily.
NOEL VANSTONE
suddenly remembers his position.
)

Noel
(
starting to his feet
). You don’t see anything of Lecount, do you? She’ll be back directly. I think I’ll go!

Wragge.
We shall see you after breakfast?

Noel.
Yes! yes! (
He hastens out on the right.
)

Wragge
(
looking after him
). He is a miser; he is a coward; he will be married for his money in three days more to the bitterest enemy he has on earth. If the whole of Noel Vanstone’s fortune was offered me, to stand in Noel Vanstone’s shoes — rich as he is, I wouldn’t take it! (
He turns towards the cottage, and sees
MAGDALEN
descending the steps with
MRS. WRAGGE.) What do I see? Mrs. Wragge publicly exhibited in broad daylight? (
To
MAGDALEN.) My dear girl, what are you thinking of?

Mag.
She is pining for fresh air, and she shall have it. I won’t leave her by herself, and I won’t take her beyond the garden. Be satisfied with that.

Wragge
(
yielding
). It’s your risk, mind; I have nothing to do with it. (MRS. WRAGGE
produces a shabby old book, and seats herself, studying it intently.
WRAGGE
turns towards the cottage.
) Mind you get rid of her before Noel Vanstone comes this way with Mrs. Lecount.

Mag.
Mrs. Lecount accompanies her master?

Wragge.
Don’t be alarmed. Mrs. Lecount won’t overhear what her master says to you to-day. I undertake to centre her attention entirely on myself.

Mag.
How?

Wragge.
There is one weak point in the housekeeper’s character. Her late husband was a professor. A scientific man is an irresistible man to Mrs. Lecount, for her late husband’s sake. Bear that in mind, and look at this invaluable book. (
He hands
MAGDALEN
a little book.
)

Mag.
(
reading the title
). “Joyce’s Scientific Dialogues.”

Wragge.
I propose to fascinate Mrs. Lecount in the character of a scientific man — crammed for the occasion out of “Joyce’s Dialogues.” (
He takes back the book.
) I’ll just run over one or two of the toughest bits in-doors by myself. Don’t let my wife out of your sight.

(
He goes into the cottage.
)

Mag.
More deception! More disguises and falsehoods!

(
She turns towards
MRS. WRAGGE.) Let me do something innocent and harmless, or my horror of myself will be more than I can bear! (
She seats herself by
MRS. WRAGGE,
with an effort to be cheerful and patient.
) Well, my poor friend, have I helped you a little? Do you understand it better now?

Mrs. W.
I don’t know. Sometimes I think I’ve got it, and it goes away from me. Sometimes I think I haven’t got it, and it all comes back in a heap.

Mag.
Suppose you read the receipt again — out loud to me?

Mrs. W.
(
reading
). “Omelette, with herbs: Beat up two eggs with a little water or milk, salt, pepper, chives, and parsley. Mince small.” (
To
MAGDALEN.) How am I to mince small when it’s all mixed up and running?

Mag.
You are to mince the parsley, I suppose.

Mrs. W.
(
reading
). “Put a piece of butter the size of your thumb into the frying-pan.” (
To
MAGDALEN.) Look at
my
thumb, and then look at
yours.
Whose thumb does she mean?