CHAINS
[ACT I. Sitting-room at 55 Acacia Avenue]
[ACT II. Sitting-room at 55 Acacia Avenue]
[ACT III. The sitting-room at “Sunnybank,” Hammersmith.]
[ACT IV. Sitting-room at 55 Acacia Avenue]
CHAINS
A Play,
IN FOUR ACTS
BY
ELIZABETH BAKER
LONDON:
SIDGWICK & JACKSON, LTD.
3 ADAM STREET, ADELPHI.
MCMXI.
CHAINS
[ACT I]
SCENE: Sitting-room at 55 Acacia Avenue. The principal articles of furniture are the centre table, set for dinner for three, and a sideboard on the right. There are folding doors at the back, leading to the front room, partly hidden by curtains; on the left a low French window leading into the garden. On the right is a fire burning; and above it a door into the kitchen.
The furniture of the room is a little mixed in style. A wicker armchair is on one side of the fireplace, a folding carpet-chair on the other. The other chairs, three at the table and two against the walls, are of bent wood. The sideboard is mahogany. The carpet-square over oilcloth is of an indeterminate pattern in subdued colours, dull crimson predominating. Lace curtains at window. Family photographs, a wedding group and a cricket group, and a big lithograph copy of a Marcus Stone picture, are on the walls. There is a brass alarm clock on the mantelpiece and one or two ornaments. A sewing-machine stands on a small table near the window; and on the edge of this table and on the small table on the other side of the window are pots of cuttings. A couple of bookshelves hang over the machine. A small vase of flowers stands in the centre of the dinner table.
LILY WILSON, much worried, is laying the centre table. She is a pretty, slight woman, obviously young, wearing a light cotton blouse, dark skirt and big pinafore. The front door is heard to close. CHARLEY WILSON enters. He is an ordinary specimen of the city clerk, dressed in correct frock-coat, dark trousers, carefully creased, much cuff and a high collar.
LILY. Here you are, then. [She puts up her face and they kiss hurriedly.] Did I hear Mr. Tennant with you?
CHAR. Met on the step.
LILY. How funny! Well, that’s nice. We can have dinner almost directly.
CHAR. [putting down his hat carefully on sideboard, and stretching himself slowly, with evident enjoyment.] Saturday, thank the Lord!
LILY. [laughing prettily.] Poor thing!
CHAR. [looking at his silk hat.] I should like to pitch the beastly thing into the river. [He shakes his fist at it. Then he stretches his neck as if to lift it out of the collar and shaking down his cuffs till he can get a fine view of them, regards them meditatively.] Pah!
LILY. [anxiously.] What’s the matter with them? Are they scorched?
CHAR. Scorched! No, they’re white enough. Beastly uniform!
LILY. But you must wear cuffs, dear.
CHAR. A chap came to the office to-day in a red tie. Old Raffles had him up, and pitched into him. Asked him if he was a Socialist. Chap said he wasn’t, but liked red. “So do I,” says the Boss, “but I don’t wear a golf coat in the city!” Thought he was awfully smart, and it did make Poppy swear.
LILY. Who’s Poppy, dear?
CHAR. Popperwell. He almost left there and then. Said he should wear whatever tie he liked.
LILY. It would have been rather silly of him, wouldn’t it? He’s so sure there.
CHAR. That’s what he said. He thought better of it and swallowed it. Well—dinner ready?
LILY. Waiting.
CHAR. [going out.] I’ll be down in a jiffy.
LILY goes to the fire. TENNANT heard outside whistling a bar of the song “Off to Philadelphia.” He comes in. He is a broad-shouldered young fellow, a little shy in his manner with women.
TENNANT. Nice day, Mrs. Wilson.
LILY. Beautiful.
TENNANT. I’ve brought you home the paper, if you’d like it. It’s the “Daily Mirror.”
LILY. Oh, thank you. I do like the pictures. Charley is getting so dreadfully serious now in his reading, and won’t buy it. He takes the “Daily Telegraph.” He thinks the gardening notes are so good.
TENNANT. He’s luxurious. It’s a penny.
LILY. Oh, he shares it with somebody. [Pause.]
TENNANT. How goes the garden?
LILY. It’s rather trying—I should like to give up those peas and things, and have chickens. They would be so useful.
LILY goes out. TENNANT takes a map out of his pocket and stands studying it. CHARLEY and LILY enter together. CHARLEY has made a wonderful change into a loose, rather creased suit of bright brown, flannel shirt with soft collar, flowing tie and old slippers. A pipe is sticking out of one pocket, and a newspaper out of the other. They sit down, and LILY tries not to look worried as CHARLEY laboriously cuts the small joint which she has brought in with her and put before him. He splashes the gravy a little and has to use the sharpener. LILY serves vegetables.
CHAR. I think I shall get one of Robertson’s pups.
LILY. It would be lovely.
CHAR. He’s got one he’ll let me have cheap.
TENNANT. I saw them last night. They’re a good breed. Make fine house-dogs.
CHAR. That’s what you want round here. A quiet neighbourhood like this is A 1 for burglars.
LILY. You don’t think we shall have any, do you?
CHAR. No. 24 had ’em the other night.
TENNANT. What were they after?
LILY. 24? That’s the new people. What a shame!
CHAR. Wanted the wedding presents.
LILY. And Mrs. Thompson told me they had real silver at 24.
CHAR. Trust the burglars for knowing that. They won’t risk their skins for electro. So we shan’t have ’em.
LILY. Charley! You forget the biscuit barrel and the tray.
TENNANT. Where’s the Bobby?
LILY. There’s only one about here.
CHAR. They don’t have Bobbies for burgles in these sort of places, only for rows. And we don’t have rows. We’re too respectable.
LILY. I think it’s so mean of burglars to come to people like us.
CHAR. [with a burst of laughter.] Let ’em go to Portman Square, you say?
LILY. Well, of course, it’s wrong to steal at all; but it doesn’t seem quite so bad. [She stops, a little confused.]
TENNANT. Of course it isn’t.
CHAR. [lying back comfortably in his chair.] Going away Sunday?
TENNANT. No—the fact is—
LILY. Maggie is coming round this afternoon. Shall we ask the Leslies for whist to-night?
CHAR. All right. Don’t make it too early, though. [Looking out of the French windows into the garden.] I’ve got to get in my peas.
TENNANT. Green peas?
CHAR. Green peas in that patch? My dear chap, don’t I wish I could!
LILY. [to TENNANT.] Have some more?
TENNANT. No, thanks.
CHAR. For one thing, there’s the soil! It’s rotten. Then there’re the sparrows. . . .
LILY. Some of them are so tame, dear, and they don’t seem to care a bit for the cat next door.
CHAR. [bitterly.] They don’t care for anything. I wish they’d take a fancy to a few snails.
LILY. They don’t eat snails.
CHAR. You spoil ’em. She gives ’em soaked bread all through the winter, and then expects me to grow things. Lord!
LILY collects plates. TENNANT goes out. CHARLEY lights pipe. CHARLEY goes to window, where he stands leaning against the post and smoking.
LILY. The baby across the road is such a darling, Charley.
CHAR. Is it?
LILY. The girl was out with it this morning, and I called her over.
CHAR. What is it?
LILY. It’s a boy.
CHARLEY’S replies are without interest and he continues to gaze out into garden.
They’re going to call him Theodore Clement Freeman. It’s rather a lot, isn’t it?
CHAR. What’s he got it all for?
LILY. After her father and his father and Freeman is a family name.
CHAR. What did they want to give ’em all to him for? They should keep some for the next.
LILY. Charley!
CHAR. It’s silly. Still, it’s their business.
LILY. It might be a girl.
CHAR. Well—there’s the others.
LILY. Charley!
CHAR. My dear girl, why not?
LILY. I don’t like you to speak like that.
CHAR. I— [Stops suddenly, looks at her, and comes over. He takes her face between his hands.] You silly! [Kisses her.]
LILY goes out with a tray of things singing. CHARLEY rolls up his sleeves and goes into the garden.
TENNANT comes in and looks round. CHARLEY comes to the window with a spade.
TENNANT. You—er—busy?
CHAR. [lighting his pipe.] Um! Want a job? There’s a nice little lot of squirming devils under that flower-pot that want killing. Take your time over it.
TENNANT. Thanks. My fancy doesn’t lie in gardening.
CHAR. Filthy soil, this.
TENNANT. Mrs. Wilson would like to keep chickens.
CHAR. Not if I know it! I’d rather go into a flat. [Leaning against the door and smoking thoughtfully.] I could chuck the lot sometimes. These two-penny-halfpenny back yards make me sick.
Pause.
I’d give something for a piece of good land. Something to pay you for your labour. [Rousing.] Well—going out?
TENNANT. [uneasily.] Yes—presently.
CHAR. [turning to look at him.] What’s up?
TENNANT. I’ve—er—got some news for you.
CHAR. Anything wrong?
TENNANT. No—no! The fact is—I’m going to hook it.
CHAR. [astonished.] Hook it? Where to?
TENNANT. I’m sick of the whole show. I can’t stand it any longer.
CHAR. [trying to realise the situation.] Do you mean you’ve left Molesey’s?
TENNANT. Yes. I’m going to leave England—and so, you see, I’ve got to leave here—your place.
CHAR. Leave England? Got a crib?
TENNANT. No, nothing.
CHAR. What are you going for then?
TENNANT. Because I’m sick of it.
CHAR. So am I, and so are others. Do you mean you are just going out because you want a change?
TENNANT. That’s about it. I’ve had enough of grind.
CHAR. Well, perhaps you’ll get grind somewhere else.
TENNANT. It’ll be a change of grind then. That’s something.
CHAR. Canada?
TENNANT. No, Australia.
CHAR. Phew! That’s a long shot. Got any friends there?
TENNANT. No.
CHAR. It’s a bit risky, isn’t it?
TENNANT. Of course it’s risky. But who wouldn’t have a little risk instead of that beastly hole every day for years? Scratch, scratch, scratch, and nothing in the end, mind you?
CHAR. [ironically.] You might become a junior partner.
TENNANT. [ignoring the remark.] Suppose I stay there. They’ll raise the screw every year till I get what they think is enough for me. Then you just stick. I suppose I should marry and have a little house somewhere, and grind on.
CHAR. [looking round.] Like me.
LILY heard singing off R.
TENNANT. No offence, old chap. It’s all right for some. It suits you. You’re used to it. I want to see things a bit before I settle.
CHARLEY is silent. His pipe has gone out and he is staring at the floor.
So I thought I’d go the whole plunge. I’ve got a little cash, of course, so I shan’t starve at first, anyhow.
CHARLEY makes no remark. TENNANT becomes apologetic.
I’m—I feel a bit of a beast—but the fact is—I—it was decided in a hurry—I—er—
CHARLEY looks up.
I’m going on Monday.
CHAR. On Monday! Why, that’s the day after tomorrow.
TENNANT. Yes, I know. It was like this. I heard of a man who’s going Monday—a man I know—and it came over me all at once, why shouldn’t I go too? I went to see him Friday—kept it dark here till I’d seen the guv’nor, and now it’s all fixed. I’m awfully sorry to have played you like this—
CHAR. Oh, rot! That’s nothing. But I say, it’s the rummest go I ever heard of. What did Molesey say?
TENNANT. Slapped me on the back! What d’ye think of that? I thought he’d call me a fool. He pointed out that I could stay there for ever, if I liked—which was jolly decent of him—but when I said I’d rather not, thanks muchly, he banged me on the back, and said he wished he could do the same and cut the office. He didn’t even stop the money for notice.
CHAR. Did he give you a £5 note?
TENNANT. [laughing.] You don’t want much. The old chap was quite excited, asked me to write—how’s that?
Pause.
[Rising.] The thing is—I can’t see why I didn’t go before. Why did I ever go into the beastly office? There was nobody to stop me going to Timbuctoo, if I liked. I say, will you tell Mrs. Wilson?
CHAR. She’s only in the kitchen. Lil!—Lil! [Shouting.]
LILY. [from outside.] Yes, dear.
CHAR. Come here! Here’s news.
LILY enters, wiping her hands on her pinafore and smiling.
LILY. Yes?
CHAR. [waving his pipe towards TENNANT.] What d’ye think he’s going to do?
LILY. [studying TENNANT seriously.] Do? How—
TENNANT. [nervously.] I—I’m going to leave you, Mrs. Wilson.
LILY. To leave us? [With enlightenment.] You’re going to be married!
TENNANT. Good Heavens, no! Not that!
CHAR. Whatever made you think of that?
LILY. What else could he do?
TENNANT. I’m going abroad.
Going over to garden door.
CHAR. He’s going to seek his fortune. Lucky dog!
LILY. Have you got a good appointment, Mr. Tennant?
TENNANT. No, nothing. I’m going on the chance.
LILY. Whatever for? Didn’t you like Molesey’s?
TENNANT. Oh, they were good enough and all that, but I got sick of the desk. I’m going farming.
LILY. And throwing up a good situation?
TENNANT. I suppose you’d call it good.
LILY. It was so sure. You’d have been head clerk in time. I’m sure you would. It does seem such a pity.
TENNANT. Sounds a bit foolish, I expect.
LILY. Of course you must get tired of it sometimes. But to throw it up altogether! I do hope you won’t be sorry for it. Charley gets tired of it sometimes—don’t you, dear?
CHAR. [from the garden door.] Just a bit—now and then.
LILY. Everybody does I expect. It would be very nice, of course, to see other places and all that—but you can always travel in your holidays.
CHAR. How far on the Continong can you go in a fortnight, Lil?
TENNANT. I don’t think you quite understand. It isn’t so much that I want to see things—though that’d be jolly—but I want a change of work.
LILY. [sympathetically.] It is trying to do the same thing over and over again. But then the hours are not so very long, are they?
CHAR. Nine to six, with an hour for lunch and tea thrown in. Count your many blessings, Freddy.
LILY. [reproachfully, and crossing to him.] You know, Charley, we’ve often talked it over, and you’ve said how regular the hours were.
CHAR. So they are.
CHARLEY disappears for a moment into garden, but is now and again to be seen outside the door with a flower-pot or some other thing for the garden.
LILY. And you have the evenings, and they give you Saturday morning at Molesey’s as you get on, don’t they?
TENNANT. Yes, it’s all true, Mrs. Wilson—but I can’t stand it. Anybody can have the job.
CHAR. It’s the spring, Freddy. That’s the matter with you.
LILY. I do hope you won’t be sorry for it. It would be so dreadful if you failed, after giving up such a good situation. Of course we are very sorry to lose you, Mr. Tennant—you have been so kind.
TENNANT. [hastily and with much embarrassment.] Oh, please don’t.
LILY. And we have always got on so very well together. I’m sure it will be very difficult to get anyone to suit us so well again. But you won’t forget us and if we have your address, we can write sometimes—
CHAR. And if anything striking occurs, I’ll send a cable. The novelty will be worth it. [Coming just inside the door with the spade in his hand.] For the rest, I’ll describe one day and you can tick it off for the whole lot of the others. Rise at 7, breakfast; catch the 8.30, City—
The door-bell is heard.
Who on earth—!
He goes into the garden.
LILY. Maggie, I expect.
She goes out.
TENNANT, after making a step towards the garden, turns to the door, only to meet MAGGIE MASSEY and LILY. MAGGIE is of medium height, well-proportioned, good-looking without being pretty.
MAGGIE. [shaking hands with TENNANT.] How do you do?
LILY. What do you think, Maggie? Mr. Tennant is going to leave us. Guess what for!
MAGGIE. He’s going to be married?
CHAR. Good Lord! There’s another.
MAGGIE. Hullo, Charles, you there!
LILY. He’s going to leave England.
MAGGIE. How nice for him!
LILY. [emphatically.] Nice! But he’s got nothing to do there!
MAGGIE. [to TENNANT.] Are you going to emigrate?
TENNANT. Yes; I’m going to Australia to try my luck.
CHAR. Isn’t he an idiot?
MAGGIE. Do you think so?
CHAR. Throwing up a nice snug little place at Molesey’s and rushing himself on to the already overstocked labour market of the Colonies.
MAGGIE. You are really going on your luck?
TENNANT. Yes.
MAGGIE. How fine!
LILY. Maggie! Think of the risk!
MAGGIE. He’s a man. It doesn’t matter.
LILY. If he’d been out of work, it would have been so very different.
MAGGIE. That would have spoilt the whole thing. I admire his pluck.
LILY. Well, he’s got no one depending on him, so he will suffer alone.
MAGGIE. You’re not very encouraging, Lil. I have heard of a married man doing the same.
CHAR. [quickly.] Who was that?
LILY. How very foolish!
MAGGIE. Oh, he was already out of work.
LILY. That is different—although even then—
MAGGIE. His wife went to live with her people again and he went out to the Colonies and made a home for her.
LILY. [sceptically.] How did he do that?
MAGGIE. I don’t know. You are quite free to do as you like, aren’t you, Mr. Tennant? How does that feel?
TENNANT. I have only just started to think about it. Directly the idea came into my head, off I had to go.
CHARLEY, who has stood listening, turns slowly and walks away.
MAGGIE. You are lucky to have found it out in time.
TENNANT. In time?
MAGGIE. Before you got too old to do anything.
Pause.
CHAR. [near the garden window but outside.] Climb on to the dustbin, only mind the lid’s on tight.
TENNANT. That’s Leslie coming over. I’ll go. [goes.]
Enter from the garden MORTON LESLIE, a big fair man, clean-shaven, lazy and good-natured. CHARLEY follows.
LESLIE. I nearly smashed your husband, Mrs. Wilson . . . Good day, Miss Maggie—and I’m sure I’ve absolutely killed Mr. Wilson’s beans.
CHAR. If you don’t the birds will—and if they don’t the worms will—and—how can you expect anything to grow in that garden?
LESLIE. I thought it was such an excellent Small Holding! What about the carrots?
CHAR. Pah! Carrots! Why not peaches? Come on, Leslie! I’ve got the papers in the other room.
CHARLEY lifts the curtain and they go into front room.
LILY. I’m afraid Charley must be tired. He seems quite irritable.
MAGGIE. So am I when I get home from business. [Throwing out her arms and smiling at LILY.] No more shop for me in a month or two, Lil.
LILY. [excitedly.] You’re going to marry Mr. Foster?
MAGGIE nods.
Oh, how lovely! How nice for you, dear! I am so glad. What did mother say?
MAGGIE. [with a little laugh.] Mother is charmed.
LILY. Everybody is, of course. He is such a nice man. He will spoil you, Maggie. You lucky girl!
MAGGIE. Yes, I suppose I am.
LILY. You don’t like to show it, of course, dear.
MAGGIE. Don’t I? You should have seen me last night! I took off my shop collar and apron and put them on the floor and danced on them—till mother came to see what was the matter.
LILY. You must be fond of him, dear.
MAGGIE. No, I’m not, particularly.
LILY. Maggie!
MAGGIE. [walking up and down.] That’s funny now. I didn’t mean to say that. It just came. [A pause.] How queer! [A pause.] Well, it’s the truth, anyway. At least, it’s not quite true. When I came here to-day I was awfully happy about it—I am fond of him at least—I—well—he’s very nice—you know. [Irritably.] What did you want to start this for, Lil?
LILY. [aggrieved.] I start it? I did nothing.
MAGGIE. I was so satisfied when I came.
LILY. [soothingly and taking her sister’s hat and coat from her.] You’re a little tired, dear. We’ll have an early cup of tea. Have you got your ring, dear?
MAGGIE holds out her left hand.
How sweet! Sapphires! He must be rich, Maggie.
Pause.
MAGGIE. I wish I was a good housekeeper, Lil.
LILY. [reassuring.] Oh, you’ll soon learn, dear; and his other housekeeper wasn’t very good.
MAGGIE. I wasn’t thinking of that.
LILY. But you talked of housekeeping, dear.
MAGGIE. Yes, but that’s quite different from being married. If I could cook decently, I would have left the shop before.
LILY. But you are going to leave the shop!
MAGGIE. [unheeding.] Or if I understood anything about the house properly, but I couldn’t be even a mother’s help unless I could wash.
LILY. I don’t know what you mean, Maggie. You haven’t got to wash. You know Mr. Foster can afford to send it all out. [Sighing enviously.] That must be nice.
MAGGIE. I heard of a girl the other day, Fanny White—you know her—she’s gone to Canada.
LILY. Canada! Who’s talking about Canada? What’s that to do—?
MAGGIE. I was envious. She used to be with us at the shop.
LILY. [impatiently.] Yes, I know. Well, you’ve done better than she, anyway, Maggie, if she is going to Canada. She’ll only be a servant, after all. What else can she do? And then in the end she’ll marry some farmer man and have to work fearfully hard—I’ve heard about the women over there—and wish she had never left England. While here are you, going to marry a rich man who’s devoted to you, with plenty of money and long holidays, and your own servant to begin with! Really, Maggie—!
MAGGIE. [stretching a little and smiling.] Isn’t it gorgeous? [shaking herself.] Well—it must be Mr. Tennant’s fault. He shouldn’t get mad ideas into his head—
LILY. And he really is mad. Throwing up a most excellent situation. My dear, I call him just stupid!
CHARLEY. [lifting the curtain and coming forward with LESLIE.] There’s no hurry.
LESLIE. Oh, I’ll start on it to-night. My wife’s gone away and left me for the day, and I’m a forsaken grass widower.
LILY. [laughing.] Poor Mr. Leslie! Won’t you come in here to-night? Don’t you think it would be very nice, Charley, as Mr. Tennant is going so soon—
LESLIE. Tennant? Where’s he going?
MAGGIE. You’ll never guess.
LESLIE. He’s leaving you? He’s going to get married?
CHAR. [impatiently.] You’re as bad as a woman!
MAGGIE. I thought you more brilliant, Mr. Leslie.
LESLIE. I thought of the happiest thing that could happen to a man, Miss Maggie.
LILY. No, it’s not marrying. He’s going abroad.
LESLIE. Got a fortune?
MAGGIE. He’s just going to try his luck. He’s emigrating.
LESLIE. What a fool! He’s got the sack, I suppose?
MAGGIE. No. He’s thrown it up.
LESLIE. Thrown up a safe job? Oh, he’s an ass, a stupid ass! You surely don’t ask me to come and wish good luck to an ass?
MAGGIE. You can help with a dirge then.
LESLIE. Much more like it. But, I say, is it really true? He must have got something to go to?
CHAR. He hasn’t. He’s got a little cash, of course. He’s always been a careful beast.