Three Plays by Granville-Barker Part 52

EDWARD _hides his face in his hands_.

TRENCHARD. I'm very glad to hear it, Mother.

MRS. VOYSEY. When Mr. Barnes died your father agreed to appointing another trustee.

TREGONING. [_diffidently._] I suppose, Edward, I'm involved.

EDWARD. [_lifting his head quickly._] Denis, I hope not. I didn't know that anything of yours--

TREGONING. Yes . . all that I got under my aunt's will.

EDWARD. You see how things are . . I've discovered no trace of that.

We'll hope for the best.

TREGONING. [_setting his teeth._] It can't be helped.

MAJOR BOOTH _leans over the table and speaks in the loudest of whispers_.

BOOTH. Let me advise you to say nothing of this to Ethel at such a critical time.

TREGONING. Thank you, Booth, naturally I shall not.

HUGH, _by a series of contortions, has lately been giving evidence of a desire or intention to say something_.

EDWARD. Well, what is it, Hugh?

HUGH. I have been wondering . . if he can hear this conversation.

_Up to now it has all been meaningless to_ HONOR, _in her nervous dilapidation, but this remark brings a fresh burst of tears_.

HONOR. Oh, poor papa . . poor papa!

MRS. VOYSEY. I think I'll go to my room. I can't hear what any of you are saying. Edward can tell me afterwards.

EDWARD. Would you like to go too, Honor?

HONOR. [_through her sobs._] Yes, please, I would.

TREGONING. And I'll get out, Edward. Whatever you think fit to do . .

Oh, well, I suppose there's only one thing to be done.

EDWARD. Only that.

TREGONING. I wish I were in a better position as to work, for Ethel's sake and--and the child's.

EDWARD. Shall I speak to Trenchard?

TREGONING. No . . he knows I exist in a wig and gown. If I can be useful to him, he'll be useful to me, I daresay. Good bye, Hugh. Good bye, Booth.

_By this time_ MRS. VOYSEY _and_ HONOR _have been got out of the room_: TREGONING _follows them. So the four brothers are left together._ HUGH _is vacant_, EDWARD _does not speak_, BOOTH _looks at_ TRENCHARD, _who settles himself to acquire information_.

TRENCHARD. How long have things been wrong?

EDWARD. He told me the trouble began in his father's time and that he'd been battling with it ever since.

TRENCHARD. [_smiling._] Oh, come now . . that's impossible.

EDWARD. But I believed him! Now I look through his papers I can find only one irregularity that's more than ten years old, and that's only to do with old George Booth's business.

BOOTH. But the Pater never touched his money . . why, he was a personal friend.

EDWARD. Did you hear what Denis said?

TRENCHARD. Very curious his evolving that fiction about his father . . I wonder why. I remember the old man. He was honest as the day.

EDWARD. To gain sympathy, I suppose.

TRENCHARD. I think one can trace the psychology of it deeper than that.

It would add a fitness to the situation . . his handing on to you an inheritance he had received. You know every criminal has a touch of the artist in him.

HUGH. [_suddenly roused._] That's true.

TRENCHARD. What position did you take up on the matter when he told you?

EDWARD. [_shrugging._] You know what the Pater was as well as I.

TRENCHARD. Well . . what did you attempt to do?

EDWARD. I urged him to start by making some of the smaller accounts right. He said . . he said that would be penny wise and pound foolish.

So I did what I could myself.

TRENCHARD. With your own money?

EDWARD. The little I had.

TRENCHARD. Can you prove that you did that?

EDWARD. I suppose I could.

TRENCHARD. It's a good point.

BOOTH. [_not to be quite left out._] Yes, I must say--

TRENCHARD. You ought to have written him a letter, and left the firm the moment you found out. Even then, legally . . ! But as he was your father. What was his object in telling you? What did he expect you to do?

EDWARD. I've thought of every reason . . and now I really believe it was that he might have someone to boast to of his financial exploits.

TRENCHARD. [_appreciatively._] I daresay.