Complete Works of Wilkie Collins (2031 page)

Mercy
(
interrupting him
). Have you asked her to speak to me about our marriage?

Horace.
Don’t be angry, Grace! Is it so very inexcusable to ask her to intercede for me? I have tried to persuade you in vain. My mother and my sisters have pleaded for me — and you turn a deaf ear to them.

Mercy
(
breaking out
). I am weary of hearing of your mother and your sisters! You talk of nothing else!

Horace
(
rising, offended
). It would be well if you followed their example, Grace. My mother and my sisters are not in the habit of speaking cruelly to those who love them.

(
He crosses to the opposite side of the stage, and seats himself at the luncheon-table, on the right.
)

Mercy
(
to herself
). His mother and his sisters! It sickens me to hear of the virtues of women who have never been tempted! Has his mother known starvation? Have his sisters been left forsaken in the streets? He hardens my heart when he sets them up as patterns for me — he almost reconciles me to deceiving him! (
She looks round at Horace. Her voice and manner change.
) I have offended him! It’s my fault. How should
he
know it, poor fellow, when he innocently mortifies me? (
She rises, and, joining
HORACE,
stands by him with her hand on his shoulder
). Forgive me, Horace. I am suffering this morning — I am not myself. I didn’t mean what I said. Pray forgive me.

(HORACE
looks up at her and gives her his hand. She touches his forehead with her lips. At the same moment,
LADY JANET
opens the door on the left, and sees them together.
)

Lady Janet
(
in the doorway
). My client is pleading for himself. I am not wanted evidently.

(
She withdraws, softly closing the door.
)

Horace
(
looking up at
MERCY). My darling! If you only knew how I love you!

Mercy
(
tenderly
). I
do
know it, Horace.

Horace.
If you would only consent —
 
—

Mercy
(
moving away from him
). Don’t press me to-day. I am not well to-day.

Horace
(
rising and following her
). May I speak about it to-morrow?

Mercy
. Yes — to-morrow. (
She returns to the sofa.
HORACE
follows her.
) What a time Lady Janet is away! What can be keeping her so long?

Horace
(
behind the sofa, bending over her
). Where is she?

Mercy
. In the library, I believe, writing a note to her nephew.

Horace.
Writing to Julian Gray?

Mercy
(
starting violently
). What!!!

Horace
(
astonished
). My dear Grace, what have I said or done to frighten you now?

Mercy
(
thunderstruck
). Lady Janet’s nephew is — Julian Gray?

Horace.
Didn’t you know it?

Mercy
. No.

Horace.
Now you do know it, what is there to alarm you?

Mercy
(
controlling herself
). Oh, nothing. I am not alarmed, only a little surprised.

Horace.
I see! Julian is a famous man. His reputation as a preacher has reached you. Is he coming here, do you know?

Mercy
(
absently
). Lady Janet said he was coming to-day.

Horace.
Prepare yourself to see the most unclerical of clergymen. Smokes. Goes to the play. Preaches, if they ask him, in Dissenters’ chapels. Declines to set up any pretensions to priestly power. Goes about doing good on a plan of his own. Is quite resigned never to rise to the high places in his profession. Says it’s rising high enough for
him
to be the Archdeacon of the afflicted, the Dean of the hungry, and the Bishop of the poor! With all his oddities, as good a fellow as ever lived. Immensely popular with the women. They all go to him for advice. I wish you would go too.

Mercy
(
startled
). What do you mean?

Horace
(
jesting
). Julian is famous for his powers of persuasion. If
he
spoke to you, he would prevail on you to fix the day. Suppose I ask Julian to plead for me?

Mercy
(
aside, in terror
). He will do it if I don’t stop him! (
To
HORACE
with a sudden change of manner.
) Why are you standing there? Come and sit down. (
She makes room for him on the sofa, and continues with an assumption of coquetry in her manner under which anxiety shows itself from time to time.
) What were we saying just now, before we began to talk of — Mr. Julian Gray?

Horace.
I was saying that I loved you.

Mercy
. Only that?

Horace
(
putting his arm round her.
) Are you tired of hearing it?

Mercy
. Are you so very much in earnest about —
 
— ?

Horace
(
eagerly
) About our marriage?

Mercy
. Yes.

Horace.
It is the one dearest wish of my life!

Mercy
(
with her eyes on the ground
). Really?

Horace.
Really.

Mercy
(
as before
). When would you like it to be?

Horace
(
amazed
). Oh, Grace, you are not trifling with me?

Mercy
. What makes you think I am trifling with you?

Horace.
You wouldn’t let me speak of our marriage just now.

Mercy
. Never mind what I said just now. They say women are changeable. It is one of the defects of the sex.

Horace.
Heaven be praised for the defects of the sex! May I really fix the day?

Mercy
. If you insist on it.

Horace.
We can be married by licence in a fortnight. (MERCY
starts.
) We might be married at once if the law would only let us. This day fortnight. Say — yes. (
A pause.
MERCY
looks at him sadly.
) Only one little word, Grace. Whisper it!

Mercy
(
with a sigh
). Yes!

Horace.
My angel, let us seal the promise! (
He kisses her and springs to his feet.
) Where is Lady Janet? I want to show the dear old lady that I have recovered my spirits, and to tell her why.

Mercy
(
absently
). You know where to find her?

Horace.
You won’t go away?

Mercy
. I will wait here.

(HORACE
kisses his hand to her, and hastens out on the left.
)

Mercy
(
alone
). Am I awake or dreaming? Have I said the word which pledges me to marry him in a fortnight! (
With sudden recklessness.
) I don’t care! Any alternative is preferable to an interview with Julian Gray. That man searched my inmost heart — when
he
was in the pulpit, and when
I
was only listening to him in the chapel. If he spoke to me as Horace proposed, how would it end? He would see my secret in my face; he would hear it in my voice; he would bring me to his feet with the shameful confession of the truth. Even now can I be sure that I shall not betray myself? Something in me shudders and shrinks at his coming. I feel it! I know it! My guilty conscience sees, and dreads its master, in Julian Gray.

(JULIAN’S
voice is heard in the conservatory, as if speaking to a servant.
)

Julian
(
outside
). Never mind me, James. I shall find my way to Lady Janet.

Mercy
(
starting in terror to her feet
). He is here! He is coming in!

(
She hurries to the door on the left. At the moment when she opens it,
JULIAN
appears, entering from the conservatory. He is dressed in black, and wears a white cravat. Except that his frock coat is a little longer than usual, there is a studious avoidance of anything clerical in the make and form of his clothes.
)

Julian.
(
gaily
). Pray don’t run away. I am nothing very formidable. Only Lady Janet’s nephew — Julian Gray. (MERCY
pauses, turns slowly as if spell-bound, and confronts him. in silence. His manner alters when he sees her. He speaks earnestly, in a tone of the deepest respect.
) Let me entreat you to favour me by resuming your seat. And let me ask your pardon if I have thoughtlessly intruded on you. (MERCY
bows, and silently returns to the sofa. Her agitation still keeps her silent.
JULIAN
walks away, a little to the right, and speaks aside.
) No common sorrow has set its mark on that woman’s face. No common heart beats in that woman’s breast. Who can she be?

(MERCY
controls herself, and addresses
JULIAN,
shyly.
)

Mercy
. Lady Janet is in the library, I believe. Shall I tell her you are here?

Julian.
Don’t disturb Lady Janet, and don’t disturb yourself. (
He takes a bottle of claret from the luncheon-table, and fills a glass.
) My aunt’s claret shall represent my aunt for the present. I have had a long walk, and I may venture to help myself in this house without invitation. Is it useless to offer you anything?

Mercy
(
wondering at his light way of talking
). Thank you. Nothing.

Julian
(
after emptying his glass
). My aunt’s wine is worthy of my aunt — both are the genuine products of Nature. (
He notices the French pie on the table.
) What is this? A French pie! It seems grossly unjust to taste French wine and to pass over French pie without notice. (
He seats himself at the table, and takes some of the pie.
) Worthy of the Great Nation! —
Vive la France!