The Red House Mystery and Other Novels. A. A. Milne
you might sometimes call her a poor dear.]
MARGARET. Good-morning, Mr. Meriton. I do hope your breakfast was all right.
RICHARD. Excellent, thank you.
MARGARET. That's right. Did you want me, Robert?
CRAWSHAW. (obviously uncomfortable). Yes--er--h'rm--Richard--er-- what are your--er--plans?
RICHARD. Is he trying to get rid of me, Mrs. Crawshaw?
MARGARET. Of course not. (TO ROBERT) Are you, dear?
CRAWSHAW. Perhaps we had better come into my room, Margaret. We can leave Richard here with the paper.
RICHARD. No, no; I'm going.
CRAWSHAW (going to the door with him). I have some particular business to discuss. If you aren't going out, I should like to consult you in the matter afterwards.
RICHARD. Right! [He goes out.]
CRAWSHAW. Sit down, Margaret. I have some extraordinary news for you.
MARGARET (sitting down). Yes, Robert?
CRAWSHAW. This letter has just come by hand. (He reads it) "199, Lincoln's Inn Fields. Dear Sir, I have pleasure to inform you that under the will of the late Mr. Antony Clifton you are a beneficiary to the extent of 50,000."
MARGARET. Robert!
CRAWSHAW. Wait! "A trifling condition is attached--namely, that you should take the name of--Wurzel-Flummery."
MARGARET. Robert!
CRAWSHAW. "I have the honour to be, your obedient servant, Denis Clifton." (He folds the letter up and puts it away.)
MARGARET. Robert, whoever is he? I mean the one who's left you the money?--
CRAWSHAW (calmly). I have not the slightest idea, Margaret. Doubtless we shall find out before long. I have asked Mr. Denis Clifton to come and see me.
MARGARET. Leaving you fifty thousand pounds! Just fancy!
CRAWSHAW. Wurzel-Flummery!
MARGARET. We can have the second car now, dear, can't we? And what about moving? You know you always said you ought to be in a more central part. Mr. Robert Crawshaw, M.P., of Curzon Street sounds so much more--more Cabinety.
CRAWSHAW. Mr. Robert Wurzel-Flummery, M.P., of Curzon Street--I don't know what _that_ sounds like.
MARGARET. I expect that's only a legal way of putting it, dear. They can't really expect us to change our name to--Wurzley-Fothergill.
CRAWSHAW. Wurzel-Flummery.
MARGARET. Yes, dear, didn't I say that? I am sure you could talk the solicitor round--this Mr. Denis Clifton. After all, it doesn't matter to him what we call ourselves. Write him one of your letters, dear.
CRAWSHAW. You don't seem to apprehend the situation, Margaret.
MARGARET. Yes, I do, dear. This Mr.--Mr.--
CRAWSHAW. Antony Clifton.
MARGARET. Yes, he's left you fifty thousand pounds, together with the name of Wurzley-Fothergill--
CRAWSHAW. Wurzel--oh, well, never mind.
MARGARET. Yes, well, you tell the solicitor that you will take the fifty thousand pounds, but you don't want the name. It's too absurd, when everybody knows of Robert Crawshaw, M.P., to expect you to call yourself Wurzley-Fothergill.
CRAWSHAW (impatiently). Yes, yes. The point is that this Mr. Clifton has left me the money on _condition_ that I change my name. If I don't take the name, I don't take the money.
MARGARET. But is that legal?
CRAWSHAW. Perfectly. It is often done. People change their names on succeeding to some property.
MARGARET. I thought it was only when your name was Moses and you changed it to Talbot.
CRAWSHAW (to himself). Wurzel-Flummery!
MARGARET. I wonder why he left you the money at all. Of course it was very nice of him, but if you didn't know him--Why do you think he did, dear?
CRAWSHAW. I know no more than this letter. I suppose he had--ah-- followed my career, and was--ah--interested in it, and being a man with no relations, felt that he could--ah--safely leave this money to me. No doubt Wurzel-Flummery was his mother's maiden name, or the name of some other friend even dearer to him; he wished the name--ah--perpetuated, perhaps even recorded not unworthily in the history of our country, and--ah--made this will accordingly. In a way it is a kind of--ah--sacred trust.
MARGARET. Then, of course, you'll accept it, dear?
CRAWSHAW. It requires some consideration. I have my career to think about, my duty to my country.
MARGARET. Of course, dear. Money is a great help in politics, isn't it?
CRAWSHAW. Money wisely spent is a help in any profession. The view of riches which socialists and suchlike people profess to take is entirely ill-considered. A rich man, who spends his money thoughtfully, is serving his country as nobly as anybody.
MARGARET. Yes, dear. Then you think we _could_ have that second car and the house in Curzon Street?
CRAWSHAW. We must not be led away. Fifty thousand pounds, properly invested, is only two thousand a year. When you have deducted the income-tax--and the tax on unearned income is extremely high just now--
MARGARET. Oh, but surely if we have to call ourselves Wurzel-Flummery it would count as _earned_ income.
CRAWSHAW. I fear not. Strictly speaking, all money is earned. Even if it is left to you by another, it is presumably left to you in recognition of certain outstanding qualities which you possess. But Parliament takes a different view. I do not for a moment say that fifty thousand pounds would not be welcome. Fifty pounds is certainly not to be sneezed at--
MARGARET. I should think not, indeed!
CRAWSHAW (unconsciously rising from his chair). And without this preposterous condition attached I should be pleased to accept this trust, and I would endeavour, Mr. Speaker--(He sits down again suddenly.) I would, Margaret, to, carry it out to the best of my poor ability. But--Wurtzel-Flummery!
MARGARET. You would soon get used to it, dear. I had to get used to the name of Crawshaw after I had been Debenham for twenty-five years. It is surprising how quickly it comes to you. I think I only signed my name Margaret Debenham once after I was married.
CRAWSHAW (kindly). The cases are rather different, Margaret. Naturally a woman, who from her cradle looks forward to the day when she will change her name, cannot have this feeling for the-- ah--honour of his name, which every man--ah--feels. Such a feeling is naturally more present in my own case since I have been privileged to make the name of Crawshaw in some degree--ah-- well-known, I might almost say famous.
MARGARET (wistfully). I used to be called "the beautiful Miss Debenham of Leamington." Everybody in Leamington knew of me. Of course, I am very proud to be Mrs. Robert Crawshaw.
CRAWSHAW (getting up and walking over to the fireplace). In a way it would mean beginning all over again. It is half the battle in politics to get your name before the public. "Whoever is this man Wurzel-Flummery?"