Part 27 (1/2)

SIR SANDFORD. We shall object to loftiness of att.i.tude on your part, sir. You would do well to reflect that we are seeking to restore a young man to a useful and honourable career.

AMOS. You are using very honourable means, Sir Sandford.

SIR SANDFORD. I shall protest against any perversion of words, Mr.

Winterfield--

[The door of the further room opens, and GERTRUDE comes in, then AGNES.

The latter is in a rusty, ill-fitting, black, stuff, dress; her hair is tightly drawn from her brows; her face is haggard, her eyes are red and sunken. A strip of linen binds her right hand.]

ST. OLPHERTS. [Speaking into SYBIL'S ear.] The lean witch again! The witch of the Iron Hall at St. Luke's.

SYBIL. [In a whisper.] Is that the woman?

ST. OLPHERTS. You see only one of 'em--there are two there.

[SANDFORD rises as AGNES comes slowly forward accompanied by GERTRUDE.

AMOS joins GERTRUDE; and they go together into the adjoining room, GERTRUDE giving AGNES an appealing look.]

SIR SANDFORD. [To AGNES.] I--I am Mr. Lucas Cleeve's brother--[with a motion of the hand towards SYBIL]--this is--this is--

[He swallows the rest of the announcement and retires to the back of the room, where he stands before the stove. ST. OLPHERTS strolls away and disappears.]

SYBIL. [To AGNES, in a hard, dry, disdainful voice.] I beg that you will sit down. [AGNES sits mechanically, with an expressionless face.]

I--I don't need to be told that this is a very--a very unwomanly proceeding on my part.

SIR SANDFORD. I can't regard it in that light, under the peculiar circ.u.mstances.

SYBIL. I'd rather you wouldn't interrupt me, Sandford. [To AGNES.] But the peculiar circ.u.mstances, to borrow my brother-in-law's phrase, are not such as to develop sweetness and modesty, I suppose.

SIR SANDFORD. Again I say you wrong yourself there, Sybil--

SYBIL. [Impatiently.] Oh, please let me wrong myself, for a change. [To AGNES.] When my husband left me, and I heard of his a.s.sociation with you, I felt sure that his vanity would soon make an openly irregular life intolerable to him. Vanity is the cause of a great deal of virtue in men; the vainest are those who like to be thought respectable.

SIR SANDFORD. Really, I must protest--

SYBIL. But Lady Cleeve--the mother--and the rest of the family have not had the patience to wait for the fulfilment of my prophecy. And so I have been forced to undertake this journey.

SIR SANDFORD. I demur to the expression ”forced”, Sybil--

SYBIL. Cannot we be left alone? Surely--! [SANDFORD bows stiffly and moves away, following ST. OLPHERTS.] However, there's this to be said for them, poor people--whatever is done to save my husband's prospects in life must be done now. It is no longer possible to play fast and loose with friends and supporters--to say nothing of enemies. His future now rests upon a matter of days--hours almost. [Rising and walking about agitatedly.] That is why I am sent here--well, why I am here.

AGNES. [In a low, quavering voice.] What is it you are all asking me to do now?

SYBIL. We are asking you to continue to--to exert your influence over him for a little while longer.

AGNES. [Rising unsteadily.] Ah--! [She makes a movement to go, falters, and irresolutely sits again.] My influence--mine!

SYBIL. [With a stamp of the foot.] You wouldn't underrate your power if you had seen him, heard him, about an hour ago--[mockingly] after he had discovered his bereavement.

AGNES. He will soon forget me.