Act II

[That night. Arnold’s apartments. Arnold is running busily around, trying to place the plates and glasses on the table, while at the same time perform various other chores. Enter Philip, dressed in Henry’s butler clothes, with a cloth over one arm.]

Philip: Mr. Philip Higgins.

Arnold: [Turns and sees Philip.] Philip! Good heavens! What is poor Henry wearing?

Philip: My clothes, if I am not mistaken. And my last five pounds.

Arnold: Well, it is your decision, my good man. Though a rather strange decision to dress as a butler. I only hope that there is a method behind this madness?

Philip: Oh yes. A small matter of a kiss from you.

Arnold: What!

Philip: I’m your new butler, Arnold. At least for tonight. It will be a trial period. I simply must have work. A butler’s shouldn’t be too difficult.

Arnold: I’d be glad to help you, Philip, but I haven’t a bit of money. The only reason that I’m holding this party is because my aunt is paying for everything.

Philip: She can pay for me too. I’m sure she won’t mind.

Arnold: You play the butler very well, Philip, but I am afraid that several people coming tonight will wonder where they have seen your face before.

Philip: Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. Nobody ever recognises a servant. To hold friendly conversation with one, such as a butler, when others are about is in very bad taste these days.

Arnold: This is true. However, I doubt that Madeline, or even Mr. Richard will not have some questions regarding the remarkable similarity between my butler and yourself.

Philip: It is a risk I must take. Oh, what I suffer for the sake of love!

Arnold: You’re being rather silly, if you ask my opinion. I have been in love many times and have never found myself in the position of serving my friends. Indeed, if I serve anyone, it is my love, and she is never my friend.

Philip: You are a confirmed bachelor, if I ever met one.

Arnold: Pas de tout. I am a confirmed bachelor until my aunt dies. She has repeatedly threatened to give all her money to the M.L.E. Charity, which I believe is nothing less than giving her money to her newest protégéé, Miss Emma Delamonde, whom you shall meet tonight. A detestable thing, this young girl is. Aunt Ethyl pays most of her attention on this little scrap more than she does on me. I would not mind this except that my dear Mrs. Davis is intent on the two of us forming a liaison. Thus you see that I am a happy and safe bachelor until my aunt dies and I am forced to marry her protégéé for want of money. I wonder if all women are as scheming as Aunt Ethyl is?

Philip: Oh, I hardly think so. At least, Madeline isn’t. I know everything that goes on in her mind, as she does in mine.

Arnold: Really.

[There is a knock on the door, and Philip goes to answer it. Mrs. Davis enters, followed by a young lady of raven curls and striking blue eyes. This is Miss Emma Delamonde, as the audience has no doubt already guessed. Miss Delamonde is a stately figure, more akin to a statue than to any rose petal. Her nose is long and straight and perfect for looking down. There is a great evidence of Mrs. Davis’s influence on her.]

Philip: Mrs. Ethyl Davis and….

Mrs. Davis: [Pushing past Philip to a bee-line for Arnold. Emma stays and regards Philip’s handsome countenance.] Arnold! Arnold! Dreadful news! I had not anticipated such a thing happening. However, we must make do.

Arnold: Whatever is it Aunt?

Mrs. Davis: [Pulling off her gloves] Simply this: The Duchess has decided, whimsical, as she is, that she must have a celebration tonight. I had not thought that she would do such a thing, since the reception is in honour of her birthday. It is not fashionable these days to hold birthday festivities after one reaches one’s thirty-first year. Indeed, really fashionable ladies have decided to dispense with birthdays all together. Nonetheless, her flagrant show of bad taste has attracted many people to attendance, thus depleting the number who will come tonight. Thank goodness Mr. Richard…[collecting herself] and Miss Applebaum will be coming. And you must thank goodness too, Arnold.

Arnold: Oh, I do, Aunt.

Mrs. Davis: However, we do have the small problem of being short one guest. I shall, of course, be seated by Mr. Richard, and you, Arnold, will be with Emma. However, I have no one to seat our dear Miss Applebaum near.

Emma: Mrs. Davis. I believe I have a solution to your dilemma. It seems that since we are minus one dinner partner, namely a male, we should use any available person of that particular gender who happens along. As it is, a very handsome male has been provided us. Namely, [she drags over a very unwilling Philip] him.

Mrs. Davis: It seems that I have seen him somewhere.

Arnold: I doubt it, Aunt. Unless you have been consorting in the dregs of London society.

Mrs. Davis: I knew I had never seen him. But I do wish, Arnold, that you would consult me before you choose another butler. You, [pointing to Philip] how much does my nephew owe you?

Emma: Oh, no, Mrs. Davis. You cannot send him away. Think of your reputation! No only would we be less one guest, but less one butler! Who would pour your gin and tonic for you? Besides, I have taken a liking to him, lowborn though he may be. He shall be my partner, and Arnold shall take Miss…whoever she is.

Arnold: Madeline Applebaum.

Mrs. Davis: Oh yes. The young woman to whom you were speaking. If I did now know that you possessed so little intelligence Arnold, I would suspect you of subterfuge.

[There is a knock at the door. Philip attempts to escape Emma and answer it, but she holds on to him.]

Emma: Arnold, get the door. You must be a host tonight. [Arnold obeys. Emma brings Philip down centre.] Sir, what is your name, your family, your station, and your eligibility?

Philip: Non, non parler l’anglais.

Emma: What did you say?

Philip: Qu’est-ce que vous dites?

Emma: Arnold! [He has entered with Madeline and Mr. Richard in tow] Tell me why I cannot understand a word that he says?

Arnold: What?

Madeline: Philip! What in the world are you doing here?

Mr. Richard: Philip! Why are you wearing Henry’s clothes?

Philip: Mon dieu!

Arnold: Everyone, this is Pheeleepe Heegeens, my new butler. I am afraid that he does not speak a word of English. So, you will all….

Madeline: Nonsense. I’d know my fiancé anywhere I went. Philip what are you doing here?

Mr. Richard: Fiancé!

Mrs. Davis: Heavens, Arnold. Are all your parties like this?

Madeline: Philip, why won’t you speak to me?

Emma: Miss, everyone! [They fall silent] I am sure there is a logical explanation to this predicament. However, if you will all kindly be seated…

[Arnold retreats to his chair down stage right, begins writing in his book. Madeline grabs Philip and shoves him onto the centre of the couch, sitting next to him. Mr. Richard guides Mrs. Davis to their chairs down stage left. Emma takes her own seat on the left extreme of the couch, sandwiching Philip between herself and Madeline.]

Emma: …We can argue more comfortably over dinner. Now, who will serve?

[Everybody looks at Philip who sneaks out from his position and goes to the table. He serves Mrs. Davis and Mr. Richard first, and leaves the ladies for last. This scene is most easily performed if not at a table over dinner, but at the cocktails and hors d’oeuvres portion of a formal meal.]

Emma: Now, Miss….

Madeline: Applebaum. And you?

Emma: Miss Emma Delamonde.

Madeline: Curious that for one having a French surname, you know not a hint of French.

Emma: Oh, I see no reason for learning a different language. One is enough for me. My philosophy is that so long as most of the world does not comprehend me, I can speak as much as I like.

Madeline: You seem to enjoy speaking even when others speak English.

Mr. Richard: You sound very much like my late wife, may she lie in peace, who followed your beliefs. She spoke of nothing in particular, and certainly was able to refrain from speaking of anything relevant to the situation.

Mrs. Davis: Do you find this attractive in a woman?

Emma: My dearest Philippe! Come, sit! [She returns him to the sweet seat on the couch.]

Madeline: [Leaning over and whispering to Arnold] What did I tell you, Arnold! He is in love with another!

Mr. Richard: As I said earlier today, Mrs. Davis, I am an inaccurate judge of anything concerning women. Evidence of this is marrying my wife. No doubt you have found similar instances in your marriage, Mrs. Davis?

Mrs. Davis: Oh, no, Mr. Richard. I will be honest with you, and you must listen carefully for I try to never be honest. It is a wretched condition and often leads to unnecessary conflicts. However, I will confide in you that I have never been married. I have adopted the title mistress rather than miss because it allows me the sympathy of friends for something other than old maidenhood.

Mr. Richard: A wiser woman I have never met. Indeed, my first, and thus far, only wife would often do the reverse and introduce herself as miss rather than mistress. As a result I rarely saw her.

Madeline: I hope you were never unfaithful to your dear wife, Mr. Richard.

Mr. Richard: Oh, no, never. But I let her think I was. It kept her amused.

Philip: [Disentangling himself from Emma] Oui! Amusee! Quelle bague! Ha ha ha! Hon hon hon!

Mrs. Davis: Honestly, Arnold. Your servants….

Arnold: [Looks up from his journal] I'm sorry, Aunt. Philippe! Bee scilente!

Madeline: Er, Philippe. Philippe Heegeens. Monsieur Philippe Heegeens. Dites-moi pourquoi vous avez compris la mal franglais d’Arnold? Hmmm?

Emma: Oh! Do you know French? How delightful!

Madeline: It seems someone else knows French as well.

Mrs. Davis: I must apologise for my nephew’s bad behaviour.

Mr. Richard: I do not blame him at all. I do believe that I have seen this French butler somewhere.

Mrs. Davis: Have you? I thought so as well, but then Arnold explained where he had come from and I remembered that I had never seen him before.

Mr. Richard: Ah yes! In the last few days that my dearest wife was still on this earth she believed that she saw people who were not there. I remember that she had quite a few male relations visiting her during that time.

Mrs. Davis: Relations always seem to show up when someone is dying. Particularly male relations. No doubt those visitors were upset that you were not ill either.

Mr. Richard: Again your insight astounds me. I do remember one of them mentioning something about wishing me dead. Of course, this was while my wife was in the prime of her life.

Mrs. Davis: Relations can be horrible. I should know. Arnold! Whatever are you doing? Can you not even pretend to be a proper host instead of writing all the time?

Arnold: But, my dear Aunt Ethyl, I am pretending to be a good host. Look. Read here. [He snaps his fingers and Philip all but jumps up, out of the grips of Madeline and Emma to bring the journal to Mrs. Davis.]

Mrs. Davis: Why so you have. I beg your pardon, nephew.

Arnold: Read a few lines down. You’ll see I’ve already forgiven you.

Mrs. Davis: Why so you have! Perhaps I misjudged you, Arnold. I did not think you were capable of eloquence. Certainly you show none when you are with Miss Delamonde. [She gives the journal to Philip who returns it to Arnold, and remains standing behind his friend.]

Arnold: Your protégées bore me Aunt. They are all like you.

Mrs. Davis: All the more reason for you to be nice to them. Consider Miss Delamonde your aunt and I believe that all will work out well.

Arnold: I already consider her my aunt.

Emma: Indeed you do, Arnold. For you show the same lack of manners for her as for me.

Madeline: You needn’t feel slighted, Miss Delamonde. Arnold treats everyone as if they were his aunt.

Mr. Richard: Quite right. My late wife used to treat everyone was if they were her husband.

Emma: Well, I needn’t worry with Philippe. It is obvious to all that he treats everyone as if she were a lady.

Madeline: Of course he does. It is his station in life. If he were, say, of our class, he would have no need to treat anyone as anything better than an aunt. I should know. A certain young man who, by coincidence, has the same name of this butler, a Mr. Philip Higgins, is a gentleman of my recent association. He is also my former fiancé.

Philip: former! [All look at him] Er…formeerre? For ma mere! Oui! Ma mere! Ah, elle est belle! Ha ha ha.

Madeline: Indeed.

Mr. Richard: Quite right. So he told you, did he, Madeline? Quite right. As the estimable Mrs. Davis has taught me, honesty is not for women, but for men. As is ignorance, although we like to think otherwise. However, I really didn’t think that he would tell you. Well! I must give him marks for that! He’s not so bad a chap! My departed wife praised honesty in men, as well as our ignorance, and I am positive that it was through my thorough possession of both these qualities that we lived happily as a couple.

Arnold: I would not be at all surprised if it were just these qualities that are at once aiding and abetting this conversation. But do continue on, Miss Applebaum. Your story is most interesting, and I do wish to record it for my latest novel.

Madeline: Of course. Tell me when I am speaking too fast, but do not interrupt. Now, my former fiancé, who, also, I am sure, quite by coincidence, looks remarkably like this good frog by my side, treated me as if I were his aunt. And, not heeding the warnings of Mrs. Davis, he believed that he could leave me in a state of ignorance over a certain…matter.

Emma: [Pacing to Philip] Pray tell, what was this? It sounds marvellous!

Arnold: Oh, it is. And Madeline, do speak slower. I find myself missing half of your exquisite words and I do not want to lose the emphasis of your speech.

Madeline: Of course. As Arnold expressed, Miss Delamonde, it is a marvellous matter which I had hoped only rumour. However, as I see now, my suspicions were not unfounded.

Emma: [Pulling Philip's arms around her] Truly? What were these horrific suspicions?

Madeline: I do not think that there is any need to continue with this discussion. I realise that you may be laughing at me, Miss Delamonde, but I will not sit here and watch you perform your antics in front of me. Philip! [She takes his head in her hands, and kisses him full upon the lips. As she does so, she pulls back her arm and then wallops him across the face] I leave you. [She grabs her coat and runs to the door, shouting from its exit] And I hope I never see you again! [Exits. A pause.]

Mrs. Davis: Oh, Arnold, now we are short one dinner guest! Whatever shall we do?

[Lights dim, curtain closes.]

(c) 2001
Updated 10 September, 2001
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