Chapter IV: Epilogue

(A Wednesday morning in May, 1905. Mr. and Mrs. Jack Hamilton at breakfast. He reading a paper, totally absorbed. She opening her letters; there are two by her plate.)

_Maude_ (reading letter and talking to herself). Well, Well! (reading). I am not angry--not in the least. You dear old girl! (drops letter and meditates). You dear old girl! (resumes reading). I know better,--you wouldn't! (reads about a page without comment, then) W-h-y! Why! O goodness gracious! Jack!

(Jack looks over top of paper absently, then resumes reading.)

_Maude_ (explosively). Jack, what do you think? Only fancy--Valeria is--Jack, listen! Put down your horrid paper! Valeria is married.

(He looks at her vacantly.)

_Jack_ Well?

_Maude_ Well? Listen: Valeria is married.

_Jack_ (waking to the situation). Is that so! Valeria--well, well. I'm not astonished.

_Maude_ (pensively). Why not?

_Jack_ (at a venture). O, because--she is so--so handsome.

_Maude_ (scornfully). She isn't handsome! Where are your eyes? She's clever--clever, that's what Valeria is. But not handsome,--certainly not. She squints.

_Jack_ (staring). I thought you were so fond of her.

_Maude_ (with dignity). I am, I am awfully fond of her--I've always been. But (cuttingly) affection doesn't blind me. I can love her and see her faults. Nobody ever called Valeria handsome.

_Jack_ (hunting his place on the page). Maybe it was stunning.

_Maude_ (with intense emphasis). Stunning!

_Jack_ (turning the page with a prodigious rattling). Hal used to rave over her.

_Maude_ O! Hal, he--don't rattle your paper so, you make me nervous! Hal didn't care for her.

_Jack_ (absently). No, I suppose not, I suppose not. Of course, nobody could.

(Silence. Both read.)

_Maude_ (intent on letter and all to herself). I wonder what she wore! She is too old for white. (reads aloud). "You'll be surprised, my dear." Yes, I confess I am. (gazing at coffee urn thoughtfully). Yes, I am. (resumes reading). Where was I? "I want to tell you first, dear." Here it is. So she did wear white--now, I am astonished. (reads on). For pity sakes! Jack

_Jack_ (starts violently, crushing paper). A man might as well live on Vesuvius.

_Maude_ (in great excitement). But, Jack, guess who married her.

_Jack_ (with calm certainty). The man in the Moon. He's too jolly to mind squints.

_Maude_ Just guess. You never can.

_Jack_ (impatiently, much wrought upon.) Then tell me.

_Maude_ (in an explosive). Hal!

_Jack_ (inanely). Hal!

_Maude_ (calmly, the mine sprung). Hal Taylor.

_Jack_ Hal Taylor. Well, I am--bobbed!

_Maude_ I'm not surprised.

_Jack_ You said Hal didn't care for her.

_Maude_ (very slowly). He doesn't, Jack. Hal was--roped in.

_Jack_ (stares, then gives vent to a long whistle of astonishment). Well, you women!

_Maude_ Don't talk to me. I am disgusted!

_Jack_ (ruefully). Well! (He stares, folds napkin, unfolds it and takes up his newspaper.)

_Maude_ Don't sit there, just saying "Well" all the time!

_Jack_ (slowly). Say, what is it to you?

_Maude_ (sobs a little). She h-has deceived me--basely deceived me. But I don't care. I shall send her a cut-glass berry dish,--maybe a Tiffany c-c-cut! (dries her eyes resolutely). Coffee, dear?

_Jack_ (irritably; a trifle suspicious yet). Yes, don't I always take coffee?

_Maude_ (plaintively). Don't scold me. I cannot endure much more. To think Valeria--

_Jack_ (with decision, carving the steak). Don't think, then. Drop it. What's your other letter?

_Maude_ (sadly). I don't care--I don't care for anything. (takes a biscuit). The biscuits are burned.

_Jack_ No, they are not. Never mind--give the letter to me.

(Maude gazes pensively at nothing. Jack opens the letter with a fork, and reads silently.)

_Jack_ (to himself, muttering). Of course, it's money,--always money. Only a dollar and fifty cents apiece,--a man ought not growl. Umph! "The happy old days." Yes, I remember.

_Maude_ (meekly). Remember what, Jack, dear? (He reads. Silence. She folds and unfolds Valeria's letter.)

_Jack_ (suddenly). By George!

_Maude_ (buttering a biscuit, slowly). What is it?

_Jack_ By George!

_Maude_ What is it? A woman might as well live on--on Vesuvius!

_Jack_ George Graham is in the New York legislature!

_Maude_ Professor George De Witt Graham!

_Jack_ (reading while he speaks). The same, my dear. We're to banquet him; it seems he's made a big speech.

_Maude_ He was very handsome, and nice to us girls. He pulled us all through chemistry.

_Jack_ (absently). Yes, he was a good wire puller. And now he's Senator, Senator in New York. That's great.

_Maude_ How do you know? Is that from him?

_Jack_ This is the Alumni Letter.

_Maude_ Alumni?

_Jack_ (slowly and elaborately). Yes, my dear, the Alumni Letter,--Alumni. We graduated in 1902,--possibly you remember the circumstances. You ought to.

_Maude_ How long ago it seems,--how long, long ago!

_Jack_ Thank you. It is. Three years.

(Silence. He stirs coffee.)

_Maude_ The lace for my dress gave out,--do you remember? And I wore Paris muslin and Mamma was sick.

_Jack_ It was a great day! You remember your Aunt?

_Maude_ Poor Aunty! I can see her now--so 'fraid I would forget--sitting on the edge of her chair! And those lemon drops,--I thought I should faint when Bob brought 'em up!

_Jack_ Yes, I remember how his shoes squeaked! And Bob would usher!

_Maude_ Poor Aunty, I hope she is happier now out among the Hottentots. Aren't they Hottentots?

_Jack_ (with scholarly precision). Your Aunt, my dear, is in Korea. Korea is an island just east of--

_Maude_ (vaguely). Well aren't the Hottentots there, too? I thought they were all together over there somewhere,--all fat and dusty together, with their queer hats like plates,--all praying and embroidering lovely silks.

_Jack_ As I was saying, Korea is east of--of Asia.

_Maude_ (taking another biscuit). Asia was always hard for me. The rivers had such dreadful names! "1902! 1902! We are the people, who are you?" What fun we had! Let's go back!

_Jack_ Haven't time. You write 'em greetings and so on, and enclose three dollars. I wonder where old Grindem is?

_Maude_ Old Grindem! You remember his side whiskers? I couldn't bear that man! He was horrid on Commencement day--wouldn't wait one second! Not one second! And Valeria, (she sighs heavily). Poor Valeria!

_Jack_ (cheerfully). You looked mighty pretty that day. You didn't need any lace.

(She sighs gently and shakes her head.)

_Jack_ (with desperate cheerfulness). And your hair was like gold,--and those lilies-of-the-valley! I remember I went so far as to think of Solomon. How is it? "Solomon in all his glory--all his glory was--was--Solomon was"--how is it?

_Maude_ "Was not arrayed like one of these."

_Jack_ O yes--"like one of these," of course. "Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these." You were a sort of female Solomon. Not a Mrs. Solomon,--perish the thought!

_Maude_ (reproachfully). Jack!

_Jack_ (still cheerfully). Who gave you those lilies? Come on--tell me now. This is a sort of anniversary when "all things shall be made clear." Old Bulbus?

(She braces herself with visible effort.)

_Jack_ It was awfully hard on me, your just carrying my roses and putting old Bulbus' lilies in your Solomon hair.

_Maude_ They weren't B-B-Bulbuses.

_Jack_ Honest?

_Maude_ H-honest.

_Jack_ (gravely). Whose were they?

(Silence. Maude twists her napkin.)

_Jack_ (more gravely). Whose were they, Mrs. Hamilton?

_Maude_ You won't be mad?

_Jack_ Do I get "mad"? I am not a two-year-old!

_Maude_ Nor cross?

_Jack_ Whose lilies were those, I ask!

_Maude_ (sitting very erect). I am going to tell you!

_Jack_ (a trifle viciously). See that you do.

_Maude_ Hal sent those lilies.

_Jack_ (incredulous). Hal Taylor?

_Maude_ (with a dead period). Hal Taylor.

(He gazes at her sternly; she hides her face behind the coffee urn.)

_Jack_ Therefore, Valeria squints!

_Maude_ O don't, Jack!

_Jack_ (severely). The vanity of woman!

_Maude_ (rising quickly and coming round to his chair). But I have your roses, Jack, in the box with my dress! And I shall send Valeria a cut-glass berry-bowl--maybe a Tiffany cut!

(He pulls her down to him as curtain falls.)