The Red House Mystery and Other Novels. A. A. Milne
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in again.)
PAMELA. I waited for him to go; I knew he wanted to talk to you about something. Gerald, he is all right, isn't he?
GERALD (taking her hands). Who? Bob? Oh yes, he's all right. So is Pamela.
PAMELA. Sure?
GERALD. Oh yes, he's all right.
PAMELA. I take rather a motherly interest in Bob, you know. What was worrying him?
GERALD (smiling). His arithmetic again; compound interest. His masters are very pleased with his progress in English. And he wants more pocket-money. He says that fourpence a week doesn't give him enough scope.
PAMELA (smiling). But he really is all right?
GERALD. Well, I've got to go up on Thursday to see his House Master--I mean I've got to go up to town on Thursday.
PAMELA (drawing back). Thursday? That was _our_ day, Gerald.
GERALD. Yes, I know; it's a confounded nuisance.
PAMELA (slowly). Yes, it is rather a--nuisance.
GERALD. I'm awfully sorry, darling. I hate it just as much as you do.
PAMELA. I wonder if you do.
GERALD (shaking his head at her). Oh, woman, woman! And you asked me to be kind to Bob.
PAMELA. It is for Bob? He really does want you?
GERALD. He thinks I can help him if I go up on Thursday. (Smiling) We aren't going to quarrel about that.
PAMELA (holding out her hand to him). Come along. Of course we aren't going to quarrel--I don't think I could quarrel with you for more than five minutes. Only--you make me wonder sometimes.
GERALD (getting up and taking her arm). What do you wonder about?
PAMELA. Oh--things.
[They go out into the garden together.]
ACT II
[It is a quiet old-fashioned hotel which SIR JAMES and LADY FARRINGDON patronize in Dover Street on their occasional visits to London. Their private sitting-room is furnished in heavy early Victorian style. A couple of gloomy palms help to decorate the room, on whose walls are engravings of Landseer's masterpieces.]
[MASON, a faithful kindly body, once nurse, now familiar servant, is at the table arranging flowers, in a gallant attempt to make the room more cheerful. As she fills each vase she takes it to its place, steps back to consider the effect, and returns to fill the next one. GERALD, in London clothes as attractive as ever, but looking none rather serious, discovers her at work.]
GERALD. Hullo, Nanny, when did you come?
MASON. This morning, sir. Her ladyship telegraphed for me.
GERALD (smiling affectionately at her). Whenever there's any trouble about, we send for Nanny. I wonder she ever came to London without you.
MASON. I told her I'd better come, but she wouldn't listen to me. Dear, dear! there _is_ trouble about now Master Gerald.
GERALD. Yes.
MASON. I thought a few flowers would cheer us up. I said to Mr. Underhill before I started, "Give me some flowers to take with me," I said, "so that I can make the place look more homey and comfortable for her ladyship."
GERALD. And you have. No one like Nanny for that.
MASON (timidly). Is there any news of Master Bob this morning? Of course, we've all been reading about it in the papers. They're not going to send him to prison?
GERALD. I'm afraid they are.
MASON. Dear, dear! (She goes on arranging the flowers.) He's not in prison now?
GERALD. No; he's on bail for the moment. Perhaps he'll be round here for lunch. But I'm afraid that to-night--
MASON. Even as a baby he was never quite like you, Master Gerald. Never was there such a little lamb as you. How long will they send him to prison for?
GERALD. We don't know yet; I expect we shall know this evening. But there's no doubt which way the case is going.
MASON. Two of the men were making their bets about it over the supper-table last night. I didn't wait long before giving them a piece of my mind, I can promise you.
GERALD (turning round sharply). Who were they? Out they go to-morrow.
MASON. That wouldn't be quite fair, would it, sir? They're young and thoughtless like.
GERALD (to himself rather than to her). After all, it's only what everybody else has been doing.
MASON. It wouldn't be anything very bad that Master Bob has done?
GERALD (emphatically). No, Nanny. No. Nothing bad; only--stupid.
MASON. I didn't know they put you in prison for being stupid. Some of us have been lucky.
GERALD. They can put you in prison for everything Nanny--being stupid or being wise, being bad or being good, being poor or--yes, or being rich.
MASON (putting her last touches to the flowers). There! Now it looks much more like what her ladyship's used to. If you aren't sent to prison for being bad, it doesn't seem to matter so much.
GERALD. Well--it isn't nice, you know.
MASON. There's lots of things that aren't nice in the world. They haven't come _your_ way yet, and I only hope they never will.
GERALD. I wish they hadn't come Bob's way.
MASON. Ah, Master Bob was born to meet them. Well, I'll go up to her ladyship now.
GERALD. Oh, are they back?
MASON. Sir James and her ladyship came back from the police-station--
GERALD. The Old Bailey, Nanny.
MASON. They came back about ten minutes ago, Master Gerald. And went up to their rooms.
GERALD. Tell mother I'm here, will you?
MASON. Yes, Sir.
(She goes out and comes back almost at once with PAMELA.)
MASON. Here's Miss Pamela. (To PAMELA) I was just saying that her ladyship will be down directly.
GERALD (smiling). Not too directly now, Nanny.
MASON. No, Master Gerald. [Exit.]
GERALD. Pamela! Have you just come up?
PAMELA. Mother and I are staying with Aunt Judith. Oh, Gerald! Poor, poor Bob!
GERALD. Have you seen him?
PAMELA. He came down to us last week, and he has been writing the most heart-rending letters.
GERALD. You're a dear to be so good to him.
PAMELA. How can one help it? Oh, Gerald, he _has_ been stupid! How he could have gone on as he did, hating it all, understanding nothing, but feeling all the time that things were wrong, and