MISS FAIRFIELD. [_Entering with_ HILARY] Tea’s very late. [BASSETT _goes out_.] HILARY. I thought I heard the sound of a car. [_Suspiciously_] Where’s your mother? SYDNEY. She’s gone away. HILARY. [_Stricken_] Gone? SYDNEY. Gone away for good. HILARY. Where? SYDNEY. Out of our lives. HILARY. With--? SYDNEY. [_Quickly_] Out of our lives. MISS FAIRFIELD. [_Furiously_] This is your doing, Sydney. HILARY. [_Dazed_] Gone. Everything gone. SYDNEY. I’m not gone. HILARY. But that boy--? SYDNEY. That’s done with. MISS FAIRFIELD. You’ve jilted him? SYDNEY. Yes. MISS FAIRFIELD. Like mother, like daughter. SYDNEY. Just so. MISS FAIRFIELD. I pray you get your punishment. SYDNEY. Your prayers will surely be answered, Auntie. HILARY. [_Slowly_] It was a cruel thing to do. SYDNEY. He’ll get over it. Men--they’re not like us. HILARY. [_Timidly_] You loved him? SYDNEY. What’s that to anyone but me? HILARY. [_Peering at her_] You’re crying. SYDNEY. I’m not. HILARY. You love him? SYDNEY. I suppose so. HILARY. Then why? Then why? SYDNEY. We’re in the same boat, Father. MISS FAIRFIELD. Yes, that’s the way they talk now, Hilary. They know too much, the young women. It upsets everything. HILARY _sits down on the sofa_. HILARY. [_Broken_] I don’t see ahead. I don’t see what’s to become of me. There’s no-one. SYDNEY. There’s me. HILARY. [_Not looking at her_] I should think you hate me. SYDNEY. I need you just as badly as you need me. HILARY. [_Fiercely_] It’s your damn-clever doing that she went. D’you think I can’t hate you? SYDNEY. [_Close to him_] No, no, Father, you want me too much. We’ll make a good job of it yet. HILARY. [_His head in his hands_] What job? SYDNEY. [_Petting him, coaxing him, loving him, her hands quieting his twitching hands, her strong will already controlling him_] Living. I’ve got such plans already, Father--Father dear. We’ll do things. We’ll have a good time somehow, you and I--you and I. Did you know you’d got a clever daughter? Writing--painting--acting! We’ll go on tour together. We’ll make a lot of money. We’ll have a cottage somewhere. You see, I’ll make it up to you. I’ll make you proud of me. MISS FAIRFIELD. [_Surveying them_] Proud of her! D’you see, Hilary? That’s all she thinks of--self--self--self! Money, ambition--and sends that poor boy away. A parson’s son! Not good enough for her, that’s what it is. She’s like the rest of the young women. Hard as nails! Hard as nails! SYDNEY. [_Crying out_] Don’t you listen to her, Father! Father, don’t believe her! I’m not hard. I’m not hard. _His arm goes round her with a gesture, awkward, timid, yet fatherly._ THE CURTAIN FALLS. _May-June, 1920._ WOODS & SONS, LTD., Printers, London, N. 1. (W.W.A.) End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Bill of Divorcement, by Clemence Dane