_Spir._ Something, I think.

_Scro._ No, no. I should like to be able to say a word or two to my clerk, just now, that's all.

_Spir._ My time grows short, let us hurry on. Do you remember this?

(_Waves wand._)

SCENE IV.--_A room. Enter Belle and Scrooge's former self, at twenty-five years of age._

_Scro._ It is Belle, as sure as I am a living sinner.

_Belle._ It matters little to you. To you very little. Another idol has displaced me; and if it can cheer and comfort you in time to come, as I would have tried to do, I have no just cause to grieve.

_Young S._ What idol has displaced you?

_Belle._ A golden one.

_Young S._ This is the even-handed dealing of the world. There is nothing on which it is so hard as poverty; and there is nothing it professes to condemn with such severity, as the pursuit of wealth.

_Belle._ You fear the world too much. All your other hopes have merged into the hope of being beyond the chance of its sordid reproach. I have seen your n.o.bler aspirations fall off one by one, until the master pa.s.sion _gain_, engrosses you. Have I not?

_Young S._ What then? Even if I have grown so much wiser, what then? I am not changed toward you, (_She shakes her head._) Am I?

_Belle._ Our contract is an old one. It was made when we were both poor and content to be so, until in good season, we could improve our worldly fortune by our patient industry. You _are_ changed. When it was made you were another man.

_Young S._ I was a boy.

_Belle._ Your own feeling tells you that you were not what you are. I am. That which promised happiness when we were one in heart is fraught with misery now that we are two. How often and how keenly I have thought of this, I will not say. It is enough that I _have_ thought of it, and can release you.

_Young S._ Have I ever sought release?

_Belle._ In words; no, never.

_Young S._ In what, then?

_Belle._ In a changed nature; in an altered spirit; in another atmosphere of life; another hope as to its great end. In everything that made my love of any worth or value in your sight. If this had never been between us, tell me, would you seek me out and try to win me now? Ah, no!

_Young S._ You think not?

_Belle._ I would gladly think otherwise, if I could; Heaven knows. When I have learned a truth like this, I know how strong and irresistible it must be. But if you were free to-day, to-morrow, yesterday, can even I believe that you would choose a dowerless girl--you, who, in your very confidence with her, weigh everything by gain; or choosing her, if for a moment you were false enough to your one guiding principle to do so, do I not know that your repentance and regret would surely follow? I do; and I release you, with a full heart, for the love of him you once were.

(_He is about to speak, but with her head turned from him she resumes._) You may--the memory of what is past half makes me hope you will--have pain in this. A very, very brief time, and you will dismiss the recollection of it, gladly, as an unprofitable dream, from which it happened well that you awoke. May you be happy in the life you have chosen. Fare well. [_Exit._]

_Young S._ (_Following_) Belle, Belle! Hear me. Let me explain.

[_Exit._]

[_Scene Closes._]

_Scro._ Spirit, show me no more! Conduct me home. Why do you delight to torture me?

_Spir._ O, mortal, what a treasure didst thou cast away. She, whom you resigned for paltry gold, became the happy wife of your former schoolmate, Kemper. One shadow more. Behold now the tender mother of smiling children, in their joyous home--a home that might have been your own.

_Scro._ No more! no more! I don't wish to see it.

_Spir._ Behold. (_Waves Wand._)

SCENE V.--_Drawing room. Six or eight children, of various sizes, in groups, playing with toys. A Christmas tree, trimmed and lighted. Mr. and Mrs.

Kemper seated at table; their daughter Belle seated at fire, dressing a doll for one of the girls._

_Mr. K._ Belle, I saw an old friend of yours this afternoon.

_Mrs. K._ Who was it?

_Mr. K._ Guess?

_Mrs. K._ How can I? Tut, don't I know (_laughingly_), Mr. Scrooge?

_Mr. K._ Mr. Scrooge it was--your old sweetheart (_laughing_). I pa.s.sed his office window, and as it was not shut up, and he had a candle inside, I could scarcely help seeing him. His partner, old Jacob Marley, lies upon the point of death, I hear. And there he sat, alone. Quite alone in the world, I do believe.

_Mrs. K._ Poor old man.

[_Scene Closes._]

_Scro._ Spirit (_in a broken voice_), remove me from this place.

_Spir._ I told you these were shadows of the things that have been.

That they are what they are, do not blame me.

_Scro._ I am to blame for what they are, and now that I see what they might have been, I am more wretched than ever. Remove me! I can not bear it. (_Turns upon the spirit, and struggles with it._) Leave me! Take me back! Haunt me no longer! (_Seizes the extinguisher-cap, presses it down, while spirit sinks through trap, and disappears. When trap is replaced, Scrooge reels to the bedstead, apparently exhausted, and with the cap grasped in his hand, falls asleep._)

CURTAIN.

STAVE THREE.

SCENE I.--_Adjoining room in Scrooge's house. Flat to represent piles of turkeys, geese, game, poultry, joints of meat, sucking-pigs, strings of sausages, oysters, mince pies, plum-puddings, pears, apples, oranges, cakes and bowls of punch; also holly, mistletoe and ivy._

_The Spirit of Christmas Present_ R. [_a giant_], _discovered holding a glowing torch--shaped like a cornucopia, to shed its light on Scrooge's entrance._

_Spir._ Come in!

_Enter Scrooge, timidly_, L.

_Spir._ Come in, and know me better, man. You have never seen the like of me before.