The Master of Mrs. Chilvers: An Improbable Comedy

Mrs. Mountcalm-Villiers. (Clapping her hands.) Now we shan’t be long!

Lady Mogton. (Hammers.) Order, please!

(The three subside.)

This is serious business. The next step is, of course —

(The door opens; Geoffrey enters. He is a youngish-looking man of three or four and thirty. Lady Mogton, at the sound of the door, turns. St. Herbert rises. There is a pause.)

Lady Mogton. We’ve been talking about you. We must apologise for turning your drawing-room —

Geoffrey. My dear mother-in-law, it is Providence. (He kisses her.) There is no one I was more longing to see.

Annys. (She has risen.) Hake told me you would be dining at the House.

Geoffrey. (He comes to her, kisses her, he is in a state of suppressed excitement.) I shall be. I came back to bring you some news.

Phoebe. We’ve got some news for you. Have you heard —

Geoffrey. (He stays her.) May I claim man’s privilege for the first word? It is news, I am sure, you will all be delighted to hear. A friend of yours has been appointed to an office where – it is quite possible – he may be of service to you.

Phoebe. Governorship of Holloway Gaol?

Geoffrey. Not a bad guess. Very near it. To the Under-Secretaryship for Home Affairs.

Lady Mogton. Who is it?

Geoffrey. (He bows.) Your affectionate and devoted servant.

Annys. You!

Phoebe. (Genuinely delighted. She is not a quick thinker.) Bravo! Congratulations, old boy! (She has risen—she slaps him on the back.)

Annys. Geoffrey! (She puts her arms about him.) You never told me anything.

Geoffrey. I know, dear. I was afraid. It mightn’t have come off. And then you would have been so disappointed.

Annys. (There are tears in her eyes. She still clings to him.) I am so glad. Oh, I am so glad!

Geoffrey. It is all your doing. You have been such a splendid help. (He breaks gently away from her. Turns to St. Herbert, with a lighter tone.) Haven’t you anything to say to a fellow? You’re not usually dumb.

St. Herbert. It has all been so sudden – as the early Victorian heroine was fond of remarking!

Geoffrey. (Laughs.) It has been sudden. We had, none of us, any idea till yesterday that old Bullock was thinking of resigning.

Elizabeth. (She has risen and moved towards the fire.) Won’t it necessitate a bye-election?

(Lady Mogton and St. Herbert have been thinking it out. On the others the word falls like a bombshell.)

Geoffrey. (He turns to her. He does not see their faces.) Yes. But I don’t anticipate a contest. The Conservatives are without a candidate, and I am on good terms with the Labour Party. Perhaps Mr. Hunnable – (He laughs, then, turning, catches sight of his wife’s face. From Annys he looks to the others.)

Lady Mogton. (She has risen.) You haven’t heard, then, of McCaw versus Potts?

Geoffrey. “McCaw versus Potts!” What the —

St. Herbert. Was decided in the House of Lords late yesterday afternoon. Briefly stated, it confers upon women the right of becoming Parliamentary candidates.

Geoffrey. (He is staggered.) You mean —

Lady Mogton. Having regard to which, we have decided to bring forward a woman candidate to contest the next bye-election.

Geoffrey. Um! I see.

Annys. But we never thought – we never anticipated it would be Geoffrey’s.

Lady Mogton. I really cannot admit that that alters the case. Geoffrey himself would never dream, I am sure, of asking us to sacrifice our cause to his convenience.

Geoffrey. No. Of course not. Certainly not.

Lady Mogton. It is perhaps unfortunate that the candidate selected —

Annys. It is quite impossible. Such a dilemma was never dreamed of.

Lady Mogton. And if not? Is the solidarity of woman —

Geoffrey. (Beginning to guess.) Forgive my impatience; but whom have you selected?

Elizabeth. (When she likes she can be quite sweet.) Your wife. (He expected it.) We rather assumed (she appeals to the others with a gesture), I think, that the president of the Man’s League for the Extension of the Franchise to Women would regard it as a compliment.

Geoffrey. (His dislike of her is already in existence.) Yes. Very thoughtful.

Annys. You must choose some one else.

Phoebe. But there is no one else.

Annys. There’s mamma.

Phoebe. Mamma’s too heavy.

Annys. Well, then, there’s Elizabeth – there’s you!

Geoffrey. Yes. Why not you? You and I could have a jolly little fight.

Lady Mogton. This is not a laughing matter. If I could think of any one to take Annys’s place I should not insist. I cannot.

Phoebe. You see, it mustn’t be a crank.

Geoffrey. (He is losing his temper.) Yes, I suppose that does limit you.