JANET. My mistake! (They shake hands.) But why does this young man call me Mrs. X. I told him Carve, plain enough.

ALCAR. Did he? A slip--a slip! You've brought your husband?

JANET. Yes, but not so easily as all that. I'm afraid he's quarrelling out there with Mr. Cyrus Carve. They get across one another on the stairs.

ALCAR. Tut-tut. Excuse me one moment.

(Exit hurriedly.)

(Exit SERVANT.)

JANET. Mr. Ebag! So you're here too! Why, it's a family party.

EBAG. (Astounded.) How do you do, Mrs. Shawn? I beg pardon, Mrs.

Carve.

JANET. It seems I'm Mrs. X now--didn't you hear?

EBAG. I expect the servant had received instructions. His lordship has a great reputation for wit, you know.

JANET. (Looking round.) And what's this room supposed to be?

EBAG. Oh, the study, probably.

JANET. Really! Not what you'd call 'homely,' is it? Rather like being on the stage.

(Enter LORD LEONARD ALCAR, leading CARVE on his right and CYRUS on his left. Servant closes door from without.)

ALCAR. Now we're all safely here, and I fancy there will be enough easy-chairs to go round. Mr. Texel, you already know Mr. Cyrus Carve, and you will be pleased to meet the talented artist who painted the pictures which you have been buying from Mr. Ebag. He has most kindly consented to be called Mr. X for the moment. This is Mrs. X, Mr. Texel.

(They bow--CYRUS shakes hands with TEXEL.)

EBAG. (To CYRUS.) How d'you do?

CYRUS. How d'you do?

CARVE. How d'you do?

ALCAR. (Observing that these three are already acquainted.) Good!

Excellent! Now, Mrs.--er--X, will you have this chair near the fire?

(Fixes chair for her.)

TEXEL. (Indicating JANET, aside to EBAG.) Good looking?

EBAG. (Aside to TEXEL.) Very agreeable little thing!

TEXEL. Excellent! Excellent!

ALCAR. (Interrupting a gesture from CARVE.) You have all done me a signal favour by coming here. In thanking you, I wonder if I may ask another favour. May I?

TEXEL. Certainly. Among kindred spirits.

EBAG. a.s.suredly, my lord.

ALCAR. I would merely request you to control so far as possible any expression of your astonishment at meeting one another here. That is to say, any violent expression.

CARVE. (Gaily and carelessly.) Oh, very well! Very well!

(LORD LEONARD ALCAR waves the rest of the company into chairs, tactfully separating CYRUS and CARVE as much as possible. He remains standing himself.)

JANET. I suppose what you really want is to stop this funny trial from coming on.

ALCAR. (Slightly taken aback.) Mrs. X, I congratulate myself on your presence here. Yes, my ambition is to be peacemaker. Of course a peacemaker always runs the risk of a broken head, but I shall entrust my head to your good nature. As a proof that I really mean business, I need only point out that I haven't invited a single lawyer.

EBAG. (After slight pause.) This is exceedingly good of your lordship.

TEXEL. For myself I'm rather looking forward to next week. I've spared no expense to get up a first-cla.s.s show. Half the papers in New York and Chicago are sending over special correspondents. I've even secured your champion humorous judge; and altogether I reckon this trial will be about the greatest judicial proposition the British public's seen in years. Still, I'm always ready to oblige--and I'll shake hands right now, on terms--my terms.

ALCAR. We are making progress.

TEXEL. But what I don't understand is--where you come in, Lord Leonard.

ALCAR. Where I come in?

TEXEL. Well, I don't want to be personal, but is this Hague Conference merely your hobby, or are you standing in with somebody?

ALCAR. I quite appreciate your delicacy. Let me a.s.sure you that, though it gives me the greatest pleasure to see you all, I have not selected you as the victims of a hobby. Nor have I anything whatever to gain by stopping the trial. The reverse. At the trial I should probably have a seat on the bench next to a delightful actress, and I should enjoy the case very much indeed. I have no doubt that even now the learned judge is strenuously preparing his inimitable flashes of humour, and that, like the rest of the world, I should allow myself to be convulsed by them. I like to think of four K.C.'s toiling hard for a miserable hundred guineas a day each. I like to think of the solicitors, good, honest fellows, striving their best to keep the costs as low as possible. I even like to think of the jury with their powerful intellects who, when we are dead and gone, Mr. Texel, will tell their grandchildren proudly how they decided the famous case of Texel v.

Ebag. Above all, I like to think of the witnesses revelling in their cross-examination. n.o.body will be more sorry than I to miss this grand spectacle of the greatest possible number of the greatest possible brains employed for the greatest possible length of time in settling a question that an average grocer's a.s.sistant could settle in five minutes. I am human. But, I have been approached--I have been flattered by the suggestion--that I might persuade you two gentlemen to abandon the trial, and I may whisper to you that the abandonment of the trial would afford satisfaction in--er--influential quarters.

TEXEL. Then are we up against the British Government? Well, go ahead.

ALCAR. (Protesting with a very courteous air of extreme astonishment.) My dear Mr. Texel, how can I have been so clumsy as to convey such an idea? The Government? Not in the least--not in the least. On behalf of n.o.body whatever. (Confidentially.) I am merely in a position to inform you positively that an amicable settlement of the case would be viewed with satisfaction in influential quarters.

JANET. Well, I can tell you it would be viewed with satisfaction in a certain street in Putney. But influential quarters--what's it got to do with them?

ALCAR. I shall be quite frank with you. The dignity of Westminster Abbey is involved in this case, and nothing in all England is more sacred to us than Westminster Abbey. One has only to p.r.o.nounce the word "the Abbey"--to realize that. We know what a modern trial is; we know what the modern press is; and, unhappily, we know what the modern bench is.

It is impossible to contemplate with equanimity the prospect of Westminster Abbey and its solemnities being given up to the tender mercy of the evening papers and a joking judge surrounded by millinery.

Such an exhibition would be unseemly. It would soil our national existence. In a word, it would have a bad effect.

CARVE. (Meditatively--bland.) How English! (He gets up and walks un.o.btrusively about the room, examining the pictures.)

ALCAR. Undoubtedly. But this is England. It is perhaps a disadvantage that we are not in Russia nor in Prussia. But we must make the best of our miserable country. (In a new tone, showing the orator skilled in changes of voice.) Can't we discuss our little affair in a friendly way entirely without prejudice? We are together here, among gentlemen--

JANET. I'm afraid you're forgetting me.

ALCAR. (Recovering himself.) Madam, I am convinced that none of us can be more gentlemanly than yourself.... Can we not find a way of settlement? (With luxurious enjoyment of the idea.) Imagine the fury of all those lawyers and journalists when they learn that we--er--if I may so express it--have done them in the eye!

TEXEL. If I wasn't going to come out on top, I could understand you worrying about your old Abbey. But I'm taking the part of your Abbey.

When I win it wins, and I'm certain to win.