Fling yourself at the door, father, and bar them out. Maggie, what keeps you so quiet now?
MAGGIE [weak in her limbs]. You're sure you're in, John?
JOHN. Majority 244. I've beaten the baronet. I've done it, Maggie, and not a soul to help me; I've done it alone. [His voice breaks; you could almost pick up the pieces.] I'm as hoarse as a crow, and I have to address the Cowcaddens Club yet; David, pump some oxygen into me.
DAVID. Certainly, Mr. Shand. [While he does it, MAGGIE is seeing visions.]
ALICK. What are you doing, Maggie?
MAGGIE. This is the House of Commons, and I'm John, catching the Speaker's eye for the first time. Do you see a queer little old wifie sitting away up there in the Ladies' Gallery? That's me. 'Mr. Speaker, sir, I rise to make my historic maiden speech. I am no orator, sir'; voice from Ladies' Gallery, 'Are you not, John? you'll soon let them see that'; cries of 'Silence, woman,' and general indignation. 'Mr. Speaker, sir, I stand here diffidently with my eyes on the Treasury Bench'; voice from the Ladies' Gallery, 'And you'll soon have your coat-tails on it, John'; loud cries of 'Remove that little old wifie,' in which she is forcibly ejected, and the honourable gentleman resumes his seat in a torrent of admiring applause.
[ALICK and DAVID waggle their proud heads.]
JOHN [tolerantly]. Maggie, Maggie.
MAGGIE. You're not angry with me, John?
JOHN. No, no.
MAGGIE. But you glowered.
JOHN. I was thinking of Sir Peregrine. Just because I beat him at the poll he took a shabby revenge; he congratulated me in French, a language I haven't taken the trouble to master.
MAGGIE [becoming a little taller]. Would it help you, John, if you were to marry a woman that could speak French?
DAVID [quickly]. Not at all.
MAGGIE [gloriously]. Mon cher Jean, laissez-moi parler le francais, voulez-vous un interprete?
JOHN. Hullo!
MAGGIE. Je suis la soeur francaise de mes deux freres ecossais.
DAVID [worshipping her]. She's been learning French.
JOHN [lightly]. Well done.
MAGGIE [grandly]. They're arriving.
ALICK. Who?
MAGGIE. Our guests. This is London, and Mrs. John Shand is giving her first reception. [Airily] Have I told you, darling, who are coming to-night? There's that dear Sir Peregrine. [To ALICK] Sir Peregrine, this is a pleasure. Avez-vous...So sorry we beat you at the poll.
JOHN. I'm doubting the baronet would sit on you, Maggie.
MAGGIE. I've invited a lord to sit on the baronet. Voila!
DAVID [delighted]. You thing! You'll find the lords expensive.
MAGGIE. Just a little cheap lord. [JAMES enters importantly.] My dear Lord Cheap, this is kind of you.
[JAMES hopes that MAGGIE's reason is not unbalanced.]
DAVID [who really ought to have had education]. How de doo, Cheap?
JAMES [bewildered]. Maggie---
MAGGIE. Yes, do call me Maggie.
ALICK [grinning]. She's practising her first party, James. The swells are at the door.
JAMES [heavily]. That's what I came to say. They are at the door.
JOHN. Who?
JAMES. The swells; in their motor. [He gives JOHN three cards.]
JOHN. 'Mr. Tenterden.'
DAVID. Him that was speaking for you?
JOHN. The same. He's a whip and an Honourable. 'Lady Sybil Tenterden.' [Frowns.] Her! She's his sister.
MAGGIE. A married woman?
JOHN. No. 'The Comtesse de la Briere.'
MAGGIE [the scholar]. She must be French.
JOHN. Yes; I think she's some relation. She's a widow.
JAMES. But what am I to say to them? ['Mr. Shand's compliments, and he will be proud to receive them' is the very least that the Wylies expect.]
JOHN [who was evidently made for great ends]. Say I'm very busy, but if they care to wait I hope presently to give them a few minutes.
JAMES [thunderstruck]. Good God, Mr. Shand!
[But it makes him JOHN'S more humble servant than ever, and he departs with the message.]
JOHN [not unaware of the sensation he has created]. I'll go up and let the crowd see me from the window.
MAGGIE. But--but--what are we to do with these ladies?
JOHN [as he tramps upwards].