The Friend of Women and Other Stories (23 page)

E
LIDA
(Suddenly passionate):
But you had no right! That's
my
room! The only place in the world that I can call my own. I must have one place that's private... can't you see that?
(She sinks down on the sofa and covers her face with her hands for a moment. Then she looks up and, after a moment, shrugs)
It was only a silly picture that a photographer snapped on Broadway and sold us for fifty cents. I kept it as a souvenir.

M
RS
. H
ONE
: Broadway? So it
was
you at the theater, after all. Oh, my prophetic soul, I knew it!
(She sits down heavily beside ELIDA and puts her arm around her shoulders.)
My child, you don't think I'm angry with you, do you? Or that I disapprove? You don't think your poor old aunt has gone over to the philistines? That she'd take Caroline's side? Oh, Elida. Look at me, child.
(ELIDA looks away.)
“To love and be so loved, yet so mistaken.” Look at your old aunt and tell her all about it.

E
LIDA
(Shaking her head):
But there's nothing to tell.

M
RS
. H
ONE
: Oh, nothing, is that it? You talked about nothing when you dined together, when you went to the theater together, when you came home in the dark in a taxi?

E
LIDA
(Indignant):
But that wasn't the way it was, Aunt Nellie! Not at all. Alexander took me out to dinner exactly once, the same evening he took me to the theater. Someone at the bank had given him tickets that afternoon, and Caroline was away. There wasn't
time
to get anyone but me.

M
RS
. H
ONE
: Funny he should have lied to her about it.

E
LIDA
: But you know how jealous she is!

M
RS
. H
ONE
: And
I
suppose he doesn't sit up here and talk to you after you've bundled me off to bed.

E
LIDA
(
Trying her best to be patient
): He sometimes sits and finishes his drink, yes. Why not? Isn't he my own first cousin?

M
RS
. H
ONE
(
Grunting
): Cousin? As if that had anything to do with the price of eggs.
(Sound of doorbell again)
That's probably him now. (
Getting up slowly)
I'll ask him. We'll see if he tries to pull the wool over his poor old mother's eyes.

E
LIDA
(Frantic)
: Oh, Aunt Nellie, for God's sake, please! Do you want to embarrass me to death? Now, please, it's time for your rest. I'll send him right in as soon as you're ready.

M
RS
. H
ONE
(Shrugging)
: All right, dear, all right.
I
know when I'm not wanted.
(Almost with a leer)
When the young have to be alone!
(She goes to door C. Mocking)
Oh, Caroline! if you
only knew!
(Exit MRS. HONE door C.)
(ELIDA covers her face for a moment after her aunt has gone and then, recovering, turns to door C. as ALEXANDER HONE enters. He is a medium-size man, somewhat under forty, dressed soberly and carefully in brown, his tie tied in a tiny knot. He is handsome in a mild, smooth, round-faced fashion and has the cautious, occasionally sly affability of the conscientious if not totally convinced conformist. One feels that his resistance, if any, would spring from irritability rather than anger.)

A
LEXANDER
: Good evening, Elida.

E
LIDA
(Tense):
Have you forgot you're dining here tonight? In an hour? Don't you have to go home and dress?

A
LEXANDER
(
His hand on his forehead
): God, I'd forgotten all about it.
Tristan
for four bloody hours. I'd better beat it. How's Ma?

E
LIDA
: Fine.

A
LEXANDER
(
Looking at his watch
): Maybe I have time for one drink.
(Sighs)
It's been a long day.

E
LIDA
(
Hesitating
): Alexander?

A
LEXANDER
: Yes?

E
LIDA
: Can I ask you something first? Something rather personal?

A
LEXANDER
(Amused):
Shoot.

E
LIDA
(Blurting it out):
Why didn't you tell Caroline that you'd taken me to the theater?

A
LEXANDER
(After a pause):
How do you know I didn't?

E
LIDA
: She was here just now. She's found the ticket stubs. And she's livid. Really!

A
LEXANDER
(Pursing his lips):
So that's why she's been so persnickety lately. Does she know who it was?

E
LIDA
: No. She came to ask your mother if
she
knew.

A
LEXANDER
: And did she?

E
LIDA
(Hesitating):
Yes. But she didn't tell.

A
LEXANDER
(Smiling as he takes this in):
Good old Ma. Oh, Elida, this could be quite a lark, you know!

E
LIDA
(Upset at his attitude):
But why didn't
you
tell her?

A
LEXANDER
(Changing his tone, surprised):
Why? Do you think I have to tell her every time I step out with a pretty girl?

E
LIDA
(Appalled):
But you
know
it wasn't like that! You know it was perfectly innocent!

A
LEXANDER
(Raising his eyebrows):
Do I? Speak for yourself.

E
LIDA
(Horrified):
Alexander! What are you saying?

A
LEXANDER
(Shrugging):
Simply that when
I
take a pretty girl out to dinner and the theater, it may be many things, but I hope it's not innocent. Good Lord, how old do you think I am?

E
LIDA
(Stepping back):
Oh!

A
LEXANDER
(
Taking the offensive
): Well, would you really prefer it was innocent?

E
LIDA
: I?

A
LEXANDER
(Moving a step closer to her):
Would you really rather I looked upon you as Mother's little helper? Would that be more gratifying?

E
LIDA
(Staring; in a low, reproachful voice):
What must you
think
of me?

A
LEXANDER
: What must you think of
me? (Insinuatingly)
Never as a friend? A warm friend?
(Coming closer)
One who might like to be warmer?

E
LIDA
(
Throwing up her hands
): Alexander! What about your wife?

A
LEXANDER
(
Smiling broadly):
But that's just the beauty of it, don't you see? Right under her nose and she'd never guess! Never in a million years!

E
LIDA
: And you think I'd allow myself to drop to
—that?

A
LEXANDER
: Now don't tell me you're going to go prudish on me. I know what girls are like. It's all an act with them. I thought you at least were above hypocrisy.

E
LIDA
(Desperate):
Will you go now?
Please?

A
LEXANDER
(In a coaxing tone):
Oh, come off, Elida. After all, it's all in the family.
(He seizes her hand and tries to pull her to him.)

E
LIDA
(In horror)
: Oh!
(She disengages herself furiously and rushes from the stage by door C. ALEXANDER shrugs and walks to the table with the whiskey decanter, which he is picking up as the curtain falls?)

SCENE: Same, an hour later

AT RISE: ELIDA is alone, dressed in a simple brown evening dress, moving about the room, arranging ashtrays, fixing flowers, doing the necessary before a dinner party. ALICE enters door C.

A
LICE
: Mr. DeLancey, Miss Elida.

E
LIDA
: Oh, thank you, Alice.
(Exit ALICE, and enter WINTHROP DELANCEY, in evening clothes, a tall, slender, distinguished man, in his early forties, with thin, receding hair combed straight back from his temples, a slightly hooked nose, and clear eyes that stare at one with a calm, semicurious detachment.)

W
INTHROP
: Good evening, my dear Elida. I'm afraid I'm a bit early.

E
LIDA
: Oh, but I hoped you would be, Winthrop. I got ready early just in case.

W
INTHROP
: Well, a man couldn't ask for a better welcome than that, could he?
(They both sit. ELIDA leans forward; clasping her hands, nervous.)

E
LIDA
: There's something I wanted to talk to you about. I don't know if you know it, but...
(Shyly)
Well, you're really the one person around here to whom I can talk.

W
INTHROP
: Dear me, I hope that isn't so. I should have thought Cousin Nellie would have had a great deal to say—

E
LIDA
(
Interrupting
): Oh, Aunt Nellie's been very kind. It's not that. But you know how she is.
(They exchange an understanding look.)
And
her friends. And this room! (
She looks about and gives a little shudder.
) Sometimes when I look around at the accumulated piles of opera programs, the old coins, the bits of seashell, all those huge art books so jammed in the shelves,
and
the statuettes...
(She sighs.)
Well, it seems almost like a great heap of bones. The aftermath of a life devoted too fiercely to devouring art and relics. As if, in the end, even discrimination has gone, and a buttonhook is the same as a Botticelli.

W
INTHROP
(Sympathetic):
What William James called the inertly sentimental condition?

E
LIDA
(Eagerly):
Well, isn't it? Isn't that just what it is?

W
INTHROP
(Shrugging):
You should know far better than
I.
Cousin Nellie is your aunt. She's only my cousin by marriage.

E
LIDA
: But you're her lawyer. Don't lawyers have to know everything about their clients?

W
INTHROP
: Well, she's considerably less sentimental, I can assure you, when it comes to business. If that's what you mean.

E
LIDA
(Getting up and walking restlessly about):
I wonder if it wouldn't be a nicer world the other way around.

W
INTHROP
: How do you mean?

E
LIDA
: If people were more realistic about the arts and more sentimental in business.

W
INTHROP
: People have their responsibilities, you know.

E
LIDA
(
Nodding rather sadly
): Don't I know. Uncle Robert Hone used to talk a great deal about his responsibilities.
As a child I used to think of them as the small gold objects that dangled on his watch chain which he was always fingering.
(She turns back to him with a shrug.)
Now Alexander wears them on his.

W
INTHROP
(Smiling)
: You're very cynical tonight.

E
LIDA
: I feel cynical.

W
INTHROP
: Has anything happened?

E
LIDA
(Eagerly)
: Yes, something has happened. It's what I'm trying to tell you.

W
INTHROP
: Is it
SO
difficult?

E
LIDA
: I find it so. Because I keep thinking there are two yous. The Winthrop who's always been kind enough to listen to my petty problems, and the Winthrop who's Aunt Nellie's lawyer. Who belongs to all those clubs.

W
INTHROP
: Nonsense. There's only one, and he's your friend. Now go sit on the sofa and turn your back to me. You'll find it's easier that way.

E
LIDA
(Doing as he says):
Does this really help? I'll try.
(A pause)
Maybe it would be easier if I started with
them.

W
INTHROP
: Them?

E
LIDA
: Aunt Nellie and Alexander. And Caroline, too, of course.
(After a pause)
You see, when I first came here to live, I assumed, with all the self-pity of a poor relative, that they had everything.
(With a sweeping gesture)
Everything in the whole world that they could possibly want. And I, of course, had nothing. Nothing, that is, that
they
could want. It was a question, as Elizabeth Barrett Browning would have put it, of the chrism being on their head, on mine the dew.

W
INTHROP
: I see.

E
LIDA
: And then suddenly... well, it's hard to describe. It was rather like a nightmare. Instead of hovering in the wings as the pale and shadowy companion, it seems... now promise me you won't laugh, Winthrop?

W
INTHROP
(Quietly)
: You know
I
won't laugh.

E
LIDA
: Well, it seems I'm the leading lady.

W
INTHROP
: The leading lady?

E
LIDA
: It's as if the curtain has suddenly gone up and there I am, caught alone before a glare of lights, utterly unprepared, not a line in my head, with Alexander and Aunt Nellie and Caroline sitting out there in front, clapping their hands and stamping their feet for me to begin.

W
INTHROP
: But to begin what?

E
LIDA
: The drama.