A Fool's Paradise Part 11

SIR P. And she being your half-sister, it concerns _you_.

PHIL. Miss Derwent, my half-sister! What do you mean?

SIR P. That Philip Selwyn and Philip Derwent were one and the same person.

PHIL. Sir Peter!

SIR P. Of that I have no proof, except your father's word.

PHIL. My father's word?

SIR P. Given to me on his death-bed. Do you _doubt_ his word? Do you doubt mine?

PHIL. No--but I cannot grasp it! Am I awake, or am I dreaming? I have such strange dreams.

SIR P. You are awake--and for the first time in your life. Till to-day, you have been living in a dream.

PHIL. My father was a widower, when he married my mother? Why did he not say so? Why did he change his name?

SIR P. Because he was _not_ a widower.

PHIL. Not a widower!

SIR P. Because his first wife was alive----

PHIL. Alive! (_leaning well forward_)

SIR P. There is the certificate of her death--twenty years later.

(_PHILIP takes it, looks at it blankly, drops back into seat._)

PHIL. (_after a short pause_) Incredible!

SIR P. I haven't half done yet.

PHIL. Go on--go on. (_leaning forward again to table and placing certificate on it_)

SIR P. You inherited from your father everything you possess?

PHIL. Everything!

SIR P. He bequeathed to you, and your sister Mildred, all his fortune?

PHIL. All.

SIR P. Where did he get that fortune?

PHIL. Well?

SIR P. From his first wife.

PHIL. (_springing up_) It's false! it _must_ be false!

SIR P. (_rises_) I have his word for it, and it can be proved. He left her penniless; and left his child to struggle with the world as best they could--and n.o.bly they did it. Yes, sir, it is too true. The father you have loved and honoured _was_----

PHIL. (_extending his arms, as if to stop SIR PETER_) My father! (_SIR PETER stands for a moment, nonplussed_)

SIR P. Was your father--just so. (_turns off. SIR PETER picks up certificate from table and goes to R.C. down stage, folding papers which he returns to his pocket, PHILIP leans on mantel-piece--aside, looking at PHILIP_) Takes it very well.

PHIL. (_goes to L.C., helping himself by table_) I want to ask you one question. Dare I? (_they stand looking at one another for an instant_)

SIR P. You mean, your mother.

PHIL. Yes.

SIR P. She knew nothing of this.

PHIL. Thank heaven for that--thank heaven! (_falls heavily into sofa, and sobs upon the table_)

_Re-enter BEATRICE, followed by KATE, in travelling dress, R.U.D. SIR PETER down R. PHILIP sits up._

BEA. (_up C._) Philip dear, Miss Derwent has come to say good-bye to you. She is going. (_crosses behind and goes down L. of table_)

PHIL. (_rising_) She is _not_ going. (_SIR PETER turns up to piano_)

KATE. (_crosses down to PHILIP_) The brougham is at the door, Mr.

Selwyn, and I have left myself barely time to catch the train; but I could not go without shaking hands with you, and thanking you for all your kindness. I came here a stranger, and I have found almost a brother. (_offers her two hands_)

PHIL. (_taking and holding them_) Yes, you _have_ found a brother; and _I_ have found a sister.

KATE. Mr. Selwyn!

PHIL. Whom I have wronged without knowing it--of whose very existence I was unaware till this moment; but whom I know at last, and to whom I will make rest.i.tution.

BEA. Philip? (_advances a step; PHILIP turns to BEATRICE_)

KATE. (_turning to SIR PETER_) You have broken your promise!

SIR P. I made no promise. (_sits R. by piano, interested in scene_)

PHIL. Yes, Beatrice, this is my sister----

KATE. (_C., breaking out_) But you need not acknowledge me. I ask for nothing but to go away. Let the past be forgotten. Of what use is it to revive a sorrow that is dead, and to publish a sin that is unknown?

(_to SIR PETER_) It cannot be right to make three beings unhappy, to do justice to one, when all that one asks is to go away.

PHIL. You know, then?

KATE. Everything!