you thought was concealed in a room in your house, at half-past ten o’clock at night? You want me to tell him that?
LORD GORING. I think it is better that he should know the exact truth.
LADY CHILTERN. [Rising.] Oh, I couldn’t, I couldn’t!
LORD GORING. May I do it?
LADY CHILTERN. No.
LORD GORING. [Gravely.] You are wrong, Lady Chiltern.
LADY CHILTERN. No. The letter must be intercepted. That is all. But how can I do it? Letters arrive for him every moment of the day. His secretaries open them and hand them to him. I dare not ask the servants to bring me his letters. It would be impossible. Oh! why don’t you tell me what to do?
LORD GORING. Pray be calm, Lady Chiltern, and answer the questions I am going to put to you. You said his secretaries open his letters.
LADY CHILTERN. Yes.
LORD GORING. Who is with him to-day? Mr. Trafford, isn’t it?
LADY CHILTERN. No. Mr. Montford, I think.
LORD GORING. You can trust him?
LADY CHILTERN. [With a gesture of despair.] Oh! how do I know?
LORD GORING. He would do what you asked him, wouldn’t he?
LADY CHILTERN. I think so.
LORD GORING. Your letter was on pink paper. He could recognise it without reading it, couldn’t he? By the colour?
LADY CHILTERN. I suppose so.
LORD GORING. Is he in the house now?
LADY CHILTERN. Yes.
LORD GORING. Then I will go and see him myself, and tell him that a certain letter, written on pink paper, is to be forwarded to Robert to-day, and that at all costs it must not reach him. [Goes to the door, and opens it.] Oh! Robert is coming upstairs with the letter in his hand. It has reached him already.
LADY CHILTERN. [With a cry of pain.] Oh! you have saved his life; what have you done with mine?
[Enter SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. He has the letter in his hand, and is reading it. He comes towards his wife, not noticing LORD GORING’S presence.]
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. ‘I want you. I trust you. I am coming to you. Gertrude.’ Oh, my love! Is this true? Do you indeed trust me, and want me? If so, it was for me to come to you, not for you to write of coming to me. This letter of yours, Gertrude, makes me feel that nothing that the world may do can hurt me now. You want me, Gertrude?
[LORD GORING, unseen by SIR ROBERT CHILTERN, makes an imploring sign to LADY CHILTERN to accept the situation and SIR ROBERT’S error.]
LADY CHILTERN. Yes.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. You trust me, Gertrude?
LADY CHILTERN. Yes.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. Ah! why did you not add you loved me?
LADY CHILTERN. [Taking his hand.] Because I loved you.
[LORD GORING passes into the conservatory.]
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [Kisses her.] Gertrude, you don’t know what I feel. When Montford passed me your letter across the table — he had opened it by mistake, I suppose, without looking at the handwriting on the envelope — and I read it — oh! I did not care what disgrace or punishment was in store for me, I only thought you loved me still.
LADY CHILTERN. There is no disgrace in store for you, nor any public shame. Mrs. Cheveley has handed over to Lord Goring the document that was in her possession, and he has destroyed it.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. Are you sure of this, Gertrude?
LADY CHILTERN. Yes; Lord Goring has just told me.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. Then I am safe! Oh! what a wonderful thing to be safe! For two days I have been in terror. I am safe now. How did Arthur destroy my letter? Tell me.
LADY CHILTERN. He burned it.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. I wish I had seen that one sin of my youth burning to ashes. How many men there are in modern life who would like to see their past burning to white ashes before them! Is Arthur still here?
LADY CHILTERN. Yes; he is in the conservatory.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. I am so glad now I made that speech last night in the House, so glad. I made it thinking that public disgrace might be the result. But it has not been so.
LADY CHILTERN. Public honour has been the result.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. I think so. I fear so, almost. For although I am safe from detection, although every proof against me is destroyed, I suppose, Gertrude … I suppose I should retire from public life? [He looks anxiously at his wife.]
LADY CHILTERN. [Eagerly.] Oh yes, Robert, you should do that. It is your duty to do that.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. It is much to surrender.
LADY CHILTERN. No; it will be much to gain.
[SIR ROBERT CHILTERN walks up and down the room with a troubled expression. Then comes over to his wife, and puts his hand on her shoulder.]
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. And you would be happy living somewhere alone with me, abroad perhaps, or in the country away from London, away from public life? You would have no regrets?
LADY CHILTERN. Oh! none, Robert.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [Sadly.] And your ambition for me? You used to be ambitious for me.
LADY CHILTERN. Oh, my ambition! I have none now, but that we two may love each other. It was your ambition that led you astray. Let us not talk about ambition.
[LORD GORING returns from the conservatory, looking very pleased with himself, and with an entirely new buttonhole that some one has made for him.]
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [Going towards him.] Arthur, I have to thank you for what you have done for me. I don’t know how I can repay you. [Shakes hands with him.]
LORD GORING. My dear fellow, I’ll tell you at once. At the present moment, under the usual palm tree … I mean in the conservatory …
[Enter MASON.]
MASON. Lord Caversham.
LORD GORING. That admirable father of mine really makes a habit of turning up at the wrong moment. It is very heartless of him, very heartless indeed.
[Enter LORD CAVERSHAM. MASON goes out.]
LORD CAVERSHAM. Good morning, Lady Chiltern! Warmest congratulations to you, Chiltern, on your brilliant speech last night. I have just left the Prime Minister, and you are to have the vacant seat in the Cabinet.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [With a look of joy and triumph.] A seat in the Cabinet?
LORD CAVERSHAM. Yes; here is the Prime Minister’s letter. [Hands letter.]
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [Takes letter and reads it.] A seat in the Cabinet!
LORD CAVERSHAM. Certainly, and you well deserve it too. You have got what we want so much in political life nowadays — high character, high moral tone, high principles. [To LORD GORING.] Everything that you have not got, sir, and never will have.
LORD GORING. I don’t like principles, father. I prefer prejudices.
[SIR ROBERT CHILTERN is on the brink of accepting the Prime Minister’s offer, when he sees wife looking at him with her clear, candid eyes. He then realises that it is impossible.]
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. I cannot accept this offer, Lord Caversham. I have made up my mind to decline it.
LORD CAVERSHAM. Decline it, sir!
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. My intention is to retire at once from public life.
LORD CAVERSHAM. [Angrily.] Decline a seat in the Cabinet,