The Gay Lord Quex | Page 2

are set out packets of soap and of powder and other articles of the toilet. At the further end of the room, in the centre, stands a desk laden with account-books; and above the desk, its back against the partition, is a chair. On the right is a hat-and-umbrella stand. Nearer, in the centre, is a large circular table on which are displayed bottles of scent and liquid soap, cases of instruments for manicure, and some wooden bowls of bath-soap with lather brushes. On the right and left are ordinary chairs. Placed against the partition on the left, and facing the audience, is a cabinet, making a display similar to that upon the what-not. Nearer, on the left, there is another screen-chair set to face the audience; below it is a smaller seat and, by the side of the smaller seat, another little table with manicure tools, &c. Some framed photographs of ladies hang against the wood-work of the partition and in the wall-spaces; and in the lower and middle windows, on the right, bird-cages are suspended._
_The light is that of a bright day in June._
[On the right MISS CLARIDGE and MISS HUDDLE _are in the final stages of manicuring two smart-looking men. The men occupy the screen-chairs; the manicurists--comely girls in black frocks--sit, facing the men, upon the smaller seats. On the left_ MISS MOON _is rougeing and varnishing the nails of a fashionably-dressed young lady, whose maid is seated at the table in the centre._ MISS LIMBIRD _is at the desk, deep in accounts._
MISS MOON:
[_To the young lady._] You won't have them too red, will you?
YOUNG LADY.
Not too red--nicely flushed.
FIRST GENTLEMAN.
[_Examining his nails critically as he rises._] I say though, that's a vast improvement!
MISS CLARIDGE.
Getting more shapely, aren't they?
FIRST GENTLEMAN.
Thanks awfully.
[He pays MISS LIMBIRD, _stands talking to her for a while, and ultimately strolls away through the opening in the partition. After putting her table in order_, MISS CLARIDGE _goes out the same way, carrying her bowl of water and towel._
MISS MOON.
[_To the young lady._] Have you had your hand read yet, madam, by any of these palmists?
YOUNG LADY.
Heavens, yes! I've been twice to that woman Bernstein, and I don't know how often to Chiron.
MISS MOON.
Ah, you ought to try Valma.
YOUNG LADY.
Valma?
MISS MOON.
He's the latest. Ladies are flocking to him.
YOUNG LADY.
Really?
MISS MOON.
Yes. Such taking manners.
YOUNG LADY.
Where does he--?
MISS MOON.
186--next door. [_Indicating the window on the left._] You can see his waiting-room from that window.
YOUNG LADY.
Is he a guinea or half a guinea?
MISS MOON.
Oh, he's a guinea.
YOUNG LADY.
That's a bore.
MISS MOON.
Ah, but consider, madam--his rooms are draped from ceiling to floor in blue velvet. Blue velvet! fancy! Not that I've had the privilege of viewing them myself; Miss F. is our authority.
YOUNG LADY.
Miss F.?
MISS MOON.
I beg your pardon--Miss Fullgarney. Valma is quite neighbourly with Miss Fullgarney.
[_A door-gong sounds--as it does every time any one enters or quits the establishment--signifying that the first gentleman has departed._
SECOND GENTLEMAN.
[_Rising._] Much obliged. [Putting a tip into MISS HUDDLE'S hand.] For yourself.
MISS HUDDLE.
Much obliged to you.
SECOND GENTLEMAN.
You're a fresh face here?
MISS HUDDLE.
Yes; I used to be with Mossu and Madame Roget in Mortimer Street.
SECOND GENTLEMAN.
I'll ask for you next time. What name?
MISS HUDDLE.
Miss Huddle.
SECOND GENTLEMAN.
Huddle?
MISS HUDDLE.
Well, p'r'aps you'd better ask for Miss Hud-delle; I fancy Miss Fullgarney is going to alter me to that.
SECOND GENTLEMAN.
[_With a nod._] Goo'-bye.
MISS HUDDLE.
Good-day, sir.
[He pays MISS LIMBIRD _and goes out. The maid rises and hands the young lady her gloves._
MISS MOON.
[_Taking a card from the mirror._] Would you like a card of Valma's, madam, just to remind you?
YOUNG LADY.
[_Accepting the card and reading it._] "Valma. Palmist. Professor of the Sciences of Chiromancy and Chirognomy. 186 New Bond Street." [_Giving the card to her maid._] Keep that.
[_The door-gong sounds._
MISS MOON.
[_Opening a window._] Look, madam. That's one of his rooms; the window there--the open one--
YOUNG LADY.
Yes, I see. Thanks. Good-morning.
MISS MOON.
Good morning.
[The young lady pays MISS LIMBIRD _and goes, followed by her maid_.
MISS HUDDLE.
[To MISS MOON] What time is it, dear?
MISS MOON.
[_Putting her table in order._] Half-past one. Lunch-time.
MISS HUDDLE.
Thought so; I've sech a vacancy.
[MISS HUDDLE _goes out, carrying her bowl and towel, as_ FRANK POLLITT--"VALMA"--_appears at the window on the left--a well, if rather showily, dressed young fellow, wearing a frock coat, white waistcoat, and patent-leather boots. He is handsome in a commonplace way, and, though stilted and self-conscious, earnest in speech and bearing._
POLLITT.
[_Looking in._] Excuse me--
MISS MOON.
[_Startled._] Oh! oh, Mr. Valma!
POLLITT.
[_Entering._] Is Miss Fullgarney in the way?
MISS MOON.
[_Gazing at him in modest admiration._] She's with a lady in the private room, Mr. Valma.
[_The door in the partition opens._
SOPHY.
[_From the private room._] Oh, no, madam, I promise I won't forget. Certainly not, I take too much interest in your daughter's nails for that.
MISS MOON.
This is her.
[_A middle-aged lady enters from the private room, followed by_ SOPHY FULLGARNEY. The customer