Driftwood

CHARACTERS

MR. TRAVERS.

MRS. TRAVERS.

MARION [their daughter].

DAN [a gentleman of no position].

* * * * *

SCENE: A room opening upon a garden. The shadows creep from their corners, driving before them the fading twilight.

MRS. TRAVERS sits in a wickerwork easy chair. MR. TRAVERS, smoking a cigar, sits the other side of the room. MARION stands by the open French window, looking out.

MR. TRAVERS. Nice little place Harry’s got down here.

MRS. TRAVERS. Yes; I should keep this on if I were you, Marion. You’ll find it very handy. One can entertain so cheaply up the river; one is not expected to make much of a show. [She turns to her husband.] Your poor cousin Emily used to work off quite half her list that way — relations and Americans, and those sort of people, you know — at that little place of theirs at Goring. You remember it — a poky hole I always thought it, but it had a lot of green stuff over the door — looked very pretty from the other side of the river. She always used to have cold meat and pickles for lunch — called it a picnic. People said it was so homely and simple.

MR. TRAVERS. They didn’t stop long, I remember.

MRS. TRAVERS. And there was a special champagne she always kept for the river — only twenty-five shillings a dozen, I think she told me she paid for it, and very good it was too, for the price. That old Indian major — what was his name? — said it suited him better than anything else he had ever tried. He always used to drink a tumblerful before breakfast; such a funny thing to do. I’ve often wondered where she got it.

MR. TRAVERS. So did most people who tasted it. Marion wants to forget those lessons, not learn them. She is going to marry a rich man who will be able to entertain his guests decently.

MRS. TRAVERS. Oh, well, James, I don’t know. None of us can afford to live up to the income we want people to think we’ve got. One must economise somewhere. A pretty figure we should cut in the county if I didn’t know how to make fivepence look like a shilling. And, besides, there are certain people that one has to be civil to, that, at the same time, one doesn’t want to introduce into one’s regular circle. If you take my advice, Marion, you won’t encourage those sisters of Harry’s more than you can help. They’re dear sweet girls, and you can be very nice to them; but don’t have them too much about. Their manners are terribly old-fashioned, and they’ve no notion how to dress, and those sort of people let down the tone of a house.