Cheveley!
MRS. CHEVELEY. Oh, donât be so solemn about it, or I shall be obliged to leave a card on you. In England I suppose that would hardly be considered en règle. Abroad, we are more civilised. Will you see me down, Sir Robert? Now that we have both the same interests at heart we shall be great friends, I hope!
[Sails out on SIR ROBERT CHILTERNâs arm. LADY CHILTERN goes to the top of the staircase and looks down at them as they descend. Her expression is troubled. After a little time she is joined by some of the guests, and passes with them into another reception-room.]
MABEL CHILTERN. What a horrid woman!
LORD GORING. You should go to bed, Miss Mabel.
MABEL CHILTERN. Lord Goring!
LORD GORING. My father told me to go to bed an hour ago. I donât see why I shouldnât give you the same advice. I always pass on good advice. It is the only thing to do with it. It is never of any use to oneself.
MABEL CHILTERN. Lord Goring, you are always ordering me out of the room. I think it most courageous of you. Especially as I am not going to bed for hours. [Goes over to the sofa.] You can come and sit down if you like, and talk about anything in the world, except the Royal Academy, Mrs. Cheveley, or novels in Scotch dialect. They are not improving subjects. [Catches sight of something that is lying on the sofa half hidden by the cushion.] What is this? Some one has dropped a diamond brooch! Quite beautiful, isnât it? [Shows it to him.] I wish it was mine, but Gertrude wonât let me wear anything but pearls, and I am thoroughly sick of pearls. They make one look so plain, so good and so intellectual. I wonder whom the brooch belongs to.
LORD GORING. I wonder who dropped it.
MABEL CHILTERN. It is a beautiful brooch.
LORD GORING. It is a handsome bracelet.
MABEL CHILTERN. It isnât a bracelet. Itâs a brooch.
LORD GORING. It can be used as a bracelet. [Takes it from her, and, pulling out a green letter-case, puts the ornament carefully in it, and replaces the whole thing in his breast-pocket with the most perfect sang froid.]
MABEL CHILTERN. What are you doing?
LORD GORING. Miss Mabel, I am going to make a rather strange request to you.
MABEL CHILTERN. [Eagerly.] Oh, pray do! I have been waiting for it all the evening.
LORD GORING. [Is a little taken aback, but recovers himself.] Donât mention to anybody that I have taken charge of this brooch. Should any one write and claim it, let me know at once.
MABEL CHILTERN. That is a strange request.
LORD GORING. Well, you see I gave this brooch to somebody once, years ago.
MABEL CHILTERN. You did?
LORD GORING. Yes.
[LADY CHILTERN enters alone. The other guests have gone.]
MABEL CHILTERN. Then I shall certainly bid you good-night. Good-night, Gertrude! [Exit.]
LADY CHILTERN. Good-night, dear! [To LORD GORING.] You saw whom Lady Markby brought here to-night?
LORD GORING. Yes. It was an unpleasant surprise. What did she come here for?
LADY CHILTERN. Apparently to try and lure Robert to uphold some fraudulent scheme in which she is interested. The Argentine Canal, in fact.
LORD GORING. She has mistaken her man, hasnât she?
LADY CHILTERN. She is incapable of understanding an upright nature like my husbandâs!
LORD GORING. Yes. I should fancy she came to grief if she tried to get Robert into her toils. It is extraordinary what astounding mistakes clever women make.
LADY CHILTERN. I donât call women of that kind clever. I call them stupid!
LORD GORING. Same thing often. Good-night, Lady Chiltern!
LADY CHILTERN. Good-night!
[Enter SIR ROBERT CHILTERN.]
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. My dear Arthur, you are not going? Do stop a little!
LORD GORING. Afraid I canât, thanks. I have promised to look in at the Hartlocksâ. I believe they have got a mauve Hungarian band that plays mauve Hungarian music. See you soon. Good-bye!
[Exit]
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. How beautiful you look to-night, Gertrude!
LADY CHILTERN. Robert,