University of Virginia Library

Scene II.

—In the Garden.
Frank and Mabel.
FRANK.
I may not say what any man may say?

MABEL.
To me? And any man, you think, may say
Foolish and heartless things to me? or is it
Only the heir of Heronshaw who claims
A right so undeniable?

FRANK.
Is the taunt
Fair to yourself or me? You do not think—

MABEL.
You have the right to make mock love to me?
I do not.

FRANK.
How have you the right to call
Truth mockery, knowing I love you?

MABEL.
How should I
Know it? If you mistake me now for Anne,
You may mistake her presently for me.

FRANK.
Anne?

MABEL.
If you care for either cousin—much,
It ought, by all I ever heard or read,
To be the one you are always bickering with.

FRANK.
She does not like me.

MABEL.
She does not dislike.

FRANK.
Her liking would not help nor her dislike
Forbid me to be happy. You perhaps—
I can't guess how you can—may think so: she
Cannot. And if I did—worse luck for me!—
What chance should I have? Can you not have seen
—Not once—not ever—how her face and eyes
Change when she looks at Redgie?

MABEL.
What!—Absurd!
You love her, and are mad with jealousy.

FRANK.
Mad if I am, my madness is to love
You. But you must have seen it.

MABEL.
I am not
Jealous.

FRANK.
You need not have an eye to see it.
Her voice might tell you, when she speaks to him.

MABEL.
The tone is just like yours or mine. Of course
We all make much—or something—of him now;
Since he came back, I mean.

FRANK.
From Waterloo;
I knew it—an interesting young cousin. Well,
He does deserve his luck, I know; he did
Always: and you were always good to him.

MABEL.
He always needed somebody, poor boy,
To be so.

FRANK.
Ah, if that were all! Because
His guardian, my good father,—good to me
Always—his cousin, in whose grounds we now
Walk and discuss him—and his schoolmasters,
You think, were apt—

MABEL.
To ill-use him? No; nor yet
Misunderstand him: that I did not mean.
But she who knew him and loved him best is gone—
His aunt and mine—your mother.

FRANK.
Yes: she did
Love him! she must have loved his mother more
Than many sisters love each other.

MABEL.
More
Than I love Anne or Anne loves me? I hope
Not. But when death comes in—and leaves behind
A child for pledge and for memorial, love
Must naturally feel more—I want the word;
More of a call upon it—not a claim—
A sort of blind and dumb and sweet appeal
Out of the dark, and out of all the light
That burns no more but broods on all the past—
A glowworm on a grave. And you, I know,
Were never jealous: all the house knew that,
And loved you for it as we did.

FRANK.
Ah—as you
Did! I'd have had you love me more than they,
If it had not been too great and sweet a thing
For me to dream of.

MABEL.
Do not dream at all.
What good can come of dreaming?

FRANK.
Less than none,
If dreaming, doubt, or fear, should take away
The little comfort, such as it is—God knows,
Not much, though precious—that your kind last words
Gave me. Too kind they were, Mabel. I was,
And am, jealous of Redgie; more to-night
Than ever: but I will not be.

MABEL.
I am sure
You will not. Why?

FRANK.
Because I know—I am sure,
Mabel—more sure than you can be of me
Or I can of myself—he would not grudge
Nor envy me my happiness if you
Could bring yourself to make me happy.

MABEL.
Why
Should he?

FRANK.
Ask him.

MABEL.
A pretty thing to ask!
But, Frank, it's good, and very good, of you
To say so—if you care for me at all,
And think it possible I could care for him.

FRANK.
I think it more than possible: but he
Does not. You'll have to tell him. Don't let Anne
Hear you.

MABEL.
I would not let her, certainly,
If I were tempted to propose to you.
Do you think that girls—that women do such things?

FRANK.
No: but I do think—think, by heaven! I know—
He will not tell you what a child might see,
That he can love, and does, better than I,
And all his heart is set on you. But Anne
Loves him: you must have seen it.

MABEL.
You love her,
And do not know it, and take me for her, seeing
Her features in my face, and thinking she
Loves Redgie: is not this the truth? Be frank,
Or change your name for one that means a lie—
Iscariot or Napoleon.

FRANK.
God forbid!
I tell you what I am sure of, as I am sure
I wish I were not.

MABEL.
Sure? How can you be?

FRANK.
Are you not sure? Be honest. Can you say
You doubt he would have told you—what he won't
And can't—had he been heir of Heronshaw
Or Anyshaw? You might have spared that taunt,
Mabel. But can you say it? You never were
A liar, and never can be. Tell him then
The truth he will not tell you.

MABEL.
What if he
Rejects me? This is past a joke.

FRANK.
It is.

MABEL.
I knew you could not love me. Why make love?

FRANK.
I love you; but I see how you love him;
And think you are right. He loves you more than I—
Yes, more than I can—more than most men could
Love even you. You are no mate for me,
I am no mate for you, the song says. Well,
So be it. God send you happiness with him!
He has done more than give you up—give up
All chance of you—he would not take the chance
That honour, as he thought, forbade. Do you
Reward him.

MABEL.
God reward you, Frank! You see
—It's true—I love him.

FRANK.
And he will not speak.
Tell him to-morrow—and come in to-night.

[Exeunt.