I'll Leave It To You Part 24

MRS. DERMOTT. What do you mean, Sylvia? Why has he gone to the _Green Hart_?

SYLVIA. Because every one here had been so beastly to him.

(_They all continue breakfast hurriedly._)

MRS. DERMOTT. You mean that he----! Oh, Sylvia! (_She bursts into tears._)

SYLVIA. Mother darling, don't cry.... (_Rises and kisses her._)

MRS. DERMOTT (_weeping bitterly_). Darling Danny. My only brother. And you've driven him away--after all his kindness and everything. Oh, how could you? How could you? He must be sent for at once. (_She rises and rings the bell, dropping bits of newspaper en route._) You're wicked, wicked children, and you don't deserve any one to be kind to you ever again.

(_Enter_ GRIGGS, R.)

Oh, Griggs, send the car down to the _Green Hart_ at once to fetch Mr.

Davis.

GRIGGS. Yes, madam.

(_Exit_ GRIGGS, R.)

MRS. DERMOTT (C.). How dare you behave like you have done. I shall never, never forgive you--you're cruel and horrid and----

OLIVER. It's all very fine, mother, but he made fools of us.

MRS. DERMOTT. He didn't do anything of the sort--he only meant it kindly--going to all that trouble, too (_she weeps again_), with one foot in the grave.

BOBBIE. And the other in the _Green Hart_.

JOYCE. He's not going to die. He said he meant to live to eighty-two.

MRS. DERMOTT. Eighty-three, I think, was the age, dear, but that's just another instance of his dear unselfishness--so that you wouldn't worry over him. I know! I'm going up to my room--you've upset me for the rest of the day. Call me the very moment he comes. Oh, how could you? How could you be so unkind? Oh, just look at my nose, it's all red and s.h.i.+ny.

(_Exit upstairs._ SYLVIA _follows, standing at the foot of the stairs, looking after her. There is silence for a moment._)

BOBBIE. That's torn it.

JOYCE. Now what are we to do?

SYLVIA (_moving down_). I know. (_At head of table._)

OLIVER. What, then?

SYLVIA. Apologise to Uncle Dan, every one of you, for being such utter beasts.

OLIVER. Well, I'm hanged!

(_During the following speech, the others continue their breakfasts._)

SYLVIA. So you jolly well ought to be. Who do you owe your position in the motor works to, Oliver? Uncle Dan. Who do you owe your song successes to, Bobbie? Uncle Dan. And you, Joyce, d'you think you'd have won a single thing if it hadn't been for him? Do you imagine Evangeline would have had the vim to have stuck to her novel if it hadn't been for Uncle Dan's faith in her? I know I should never have done a thing, either. And all we did it for apparently, was that he could die off conveniently and leave us his money--the moment he'd done that I suppose we should have stopped working. What charming characters! Waiting for a man to die, and then getting disagreeable because he says he doesn't want to. Do you think any one of you would stop work now for anything?

Of course you wouldn't. I know _that_. Don't you see that Uncle Dan chose the one and only way of really helping us? He's worked wonders and we ought to be thankful to him until our dying day....

BOBBIE (_marmalade on toast in hand_). It's all very fine for you--he hasn't come between you and the only person you've ever loved....

SYLVIA. And that's one of the best things of all--he's been the means of showing Faith up in her true colours. Bobbie, you must realise now in your heart of hearts what a rotter she is?

BOBBIE. She wouldn't have been if it wasn't for her beastly mother. Just because you found him out before us, by a fluke, you think you can preach to us about being rude to him. Well, you'd have been just as bad under the same circ.u.mstances, if not worse. The fact of you having spotted his game doesn't make it any the less disgusting. He's behaved atrociously and you know it, making fools of us all. What do you think my friends will say? Joyce's school girls? Vangy's literary nuts?

SYLVIA (_coming down_ R. _to below Chesterfield_). It's your own silly faults. You shouldn't have told them.

EVANGELINE (_rising_). Don't be so superior. Of course we only did in confidence. (_Going up_ R., _followed by_ JOYCE.)

SYLVIA. Well, that's not Uncle Dan's fault, he only did it for the best....

BOBBIE. Best be d.a.m.ned!

SYLVIA. If you can't curb your language I should think you'd better go outside.

BOBBIE (_rising, knife in hand_). I shall do exactly as I like. I'm fed up with you, Sylvia, you're as bad as he is. (_Throws knife on table._) And if you think you can get round us by making excuses for him you're jolly well mistaken. I suppose all this is a put-up job! (_Moves to_ L.C.)

SYLVIA (_R.C._). How dare you, Bobbie! It's nothing of the sort. Only luckily I have a little discrimination, I can see the difference between good and bad, and Uncle Dan's good, good all through. He wouldn't do harm to any one or anything in the world. He did all this out of genuine kindness. He couldn't help us in any other way, so he made us work, hoping it would improve us. And I should think he'd go back to America sick and wretched inside with disappointment having discovered that we, his only relatives, have only liked him and been nice to him because of his money--waiting for him to die like beastly treacherous ghouls.

(EVANGELINE _attempts to speak._)

That's what you are, ghouls! (_Turning on_ EVANGELINE.) And selfish pigs, and if you don't apologise to him I shall never speak to any of you again.

OLIVER. Hah! (_Throws down serviette and exits_ R.)

SYLVIA. Oh, you're very dignified walking out like that without saying anything. I hate you! I hate you all! Poor Uncle Daniel--it's rotten.

(_She bursts out crying, and subsides on Chesterfield._)

(_Towards the end of her speech, the rest have risen and walked out with their heads in the air_, R. BOBBIE _kicks violently at paper on floor and goes upstairs. There is a moment's pause, then enter_ DANIEL _from garden._)

DANIEL (_coming_ C.). I left the car down the drive, hoping to make a sweet lovable entrance with perhaps a few rose leaves on my coat. Where is everybody?

SYLVIA (_sniffing on Chesterfield_). It's no use, they're still being beastly. Mother sent for you. She's frightfully upset at your going to the _Green Hart_.

DANIEL. If they're keeping it up, I think I'd better go back. (_Moving towards entrance._)

SYLVIA (_rising_). No, you're not to do anything of the sort, you're to stay here. (_Firmly._) They can be as disagreeable as they like, we'll go about together; you can come to the studio with me to-morrow morning.

DANIEL (_up to her_). You, Sylvia, are what is described as a sympathetic character. You've been very nice to me all along. Can I leave you anything?

SYLVIA. Don't joke about it, uncle, it's all so horrid.

DANIEL. If I don't joke I shall burst into storms of pa.s.sionate sobbing.

(_Moves down_ C.)

SYLVIA. That would be rather awful. Here comes mother....