Green Stockings: A Comedy in Three Acts
ACT I
SCENE: _A room in_ MR. FARADAY'S _country house; at the upper left corner a little room is recessed, in which is a folding card table and four chairs. Windows at back. On table are two decks of cards, an ashtray and two bridge-markers and pencils. Hanging over table, a shaded electrolier. There is no door, but people sitting at the card tables are practically off the stage, though they can be seen and heard. At right corner balancing left corner exactly is seen a portion of the morning room (backing used is part of Act III set). Directly against back is a small table, between two chairs, both of which are facing it. On table, a lighted lamp and an English periodical, also an ashtray and a vase of spring flowers. Note: All flowers used in this set are spring flowers. Between card room and morning room on back flat, a tapestry is hung, against flat a baby grand piano, keyboard facing right up and down stage; on piano are a scarf, photograph frames, vase of flowers and a lamp. In the center of the left wall of the room, proper is hung a large picture; beneath this stands a large cabinet on which is formal garniture. Below this is a door (_L.I_) which leads into the hall; above door and to left center, a table on which is a sliding book rack holding several books and an English army list. Also a shaded lamp, a purse for_ LADY TRENCHARD _to left of table, and a sewing-bag for_ AUNT IDA _to right of table_.
_In_ R.I _is a door balancing that in_ L.I. _It leads to hall. Above door_ R. _is a large mantel. Above this is hung a large picture, balancing that on left wall. On the mantel, a formal garniture of vases; against mantel, a club fender with upholstered top, fireirons inside fender, grate with lighted coal fire; below fender, facing sofa, an armchair. Opposite and facing the fender and about three feet from it is a large comfortable sofa, with a number of cushions; against the back of this, a long magazine table. On this are, beginning at upper end, an English timetable, a large shaded lamp, large cigarette box containing cigarettes, ashtray, match-holder, vase of tulips, photo frame, and at extreme lower end of table seven or eight English periodicals. On these, a large blue linen envelope, unsealed, flap being turned in. This contains a few spring fashion plates. With this are four ordinary letters, containing circulars (all of these letters are important). Below table, a square tapestry stool, left of table an armchair, under table a waste-paper basket. Between piano and entrance to morning room is a small light writing table. On this, a small lamp or a pair of shaded candles, a blotting pad with paper, envelopes, ink and pens. Above this a chair. Off_ L. _a door bell and set of chimes. Electric light switch on_ R. _wall to_ R. _of morning room opening. Bell push on_ L. _of back flat. The entire room should convey the impression of quiet, dignified, tasteful elegance. Complete darkness at windows, suggesting a rainy night. On rise of curtain, all lamps are lighted and fire aglow_.
_Before the curtain rises_, PHYLLIS _plays for a moment or two_.
AT RISE: _Discovered_: PHYLLIS _at piano, playing_. LADY TRENCHARD _seated at upper end of sofa, smoking a cigarette and reading a periodical_. MADGE _writing a letter at writing table up stage_. AUNT IDA _seated in armchair at_ R. _of table_ L,. _knitting. The girls and_ AUNT IDA _are in evening dress_. PHYLLIS _continues to play softly under conversation, something cheerful but not too fast. The opening scene should be played brightly and quickly_.
MADGE. (_Rises. Brightly_) Oh, Evelyn----
EVELYN. Yes, Madge.
MADGE. (_Coming down to chair_ L. _of table_ R. _with letter in hand_) I _do_ want this letter to my husband to catch the Indian mail. Do _you_ know anything about the postal service in this benighted village?
EVELYN. (_Continuing to read and speaking over her magazine_) No, Madgie, I don't. _Celia_ always attends to those things. _She's_ away. Ring for _Martin_.
(MADGE _goes to bell in upper flat_ L., _rings it, and then comes_ L.C.)
AUNT IDA. (_Without looking up from her knitting_) Has anyone gone to the wharf to _meet_ Celia?
EVELYN. (_Indifferently_) Why, no. She's coming home to-night, isn't she?
AUNT IDA. (_Vehemently_) You _got_ her _telegram_.
MADGE. (_Unconcerned_) What time is her boat due?
AUNT IDA. At _eight_, and now it's nearly _nine_.
(_Enter_ MARTIN R.IE. _and stands_.)
AUNT IDA. (_Continuing_) She'll have been waiting for an hour on that dreadful wharf.
EVELYN. (_Still reading and speaking over her book_) Oh, Martin, the motor must go at once to the wharf to fetch Miss Celia.
MARTIN. Yes, your Ladyship, but hadn't I better send down some extra wraps; it's a very wet night.
EVELYN. (_Looking up for a moment_) Wet? Dear me, is it raining?
AUNT IDA. Cats and dogs.
EVELYN. (_Returning to her reading_) Oh, very well, then, Martin, attend to it at once.
MARTIN. (_Turns to go to door_ R.) Yes, your Ladyship.
MADGE. (_From_ L.C.) Attend to _me_ first, Martin, if you please.
MARTIN. (_Turns back_) Yes, madam.
MADGE. How late can I post in order to catch the Indian mail?
MARTIN. Up till ten o'clock, madam.
MADGE. (_Going back to desk_) Oh, then I have time to write a longer letter. (MARTIN _exits_ R.I.)
AUNT IDA. (_Looking around at girls, who are all occupied and quite oblivious of_ CELIA'S _discomfort. With a deep sigh and shaking her head_) Poor Celia.
PHYLLIS. (_Gives a slight bang on the piano, rises and comes quickly down center. Indignantly_) Poor Celia. Well, she's coming back home just at a moment that's going to complicate--_the--whole--situation_.
EVELYN. Why, what do you mean?
PHYLLIS. (_Addressing_ EVELYN) Well, you know how father feels about letting me _get_ married--while Celia is settling down day after day into a permanent old maid. If she'd stay away a little longer, he might forget for a while, but here she's turning up just _this very night_, just as Bobby has gained courage enough to take the bull by the horns and beard the lion sulking in his tent.
(_Enter_ TARVER _in evening dress, dejectedly_, R.U., _coming down center_.)
AUNT IDA. What an extraordinary proceeding.
PHYLLIS. (_Running up to_ BOBBY _and taking him by the arm_) Oh! Bobby, Bobby! What news?
TARVER. Well, I'm afraid it's hopeless, though I spoke with singular force. (_Sits in chair left of table_ R.)
PHYLLIS. (_Stands_ L. _of chair_, L. _of table_ R.) Oh, Bobby, how splendid of you! How did you put it?
TARVER. In the form of a question. I said to your father, "Are you aware, sir, that I love your daughter and wish to make her mine?"
EVELYN. What did _Father_ say?
TARVER. Oh, he said, "Has it escaped your observation, sir, that I still have _two_ marriageable daughters?"
PHYLLIS. (_Protestingly_) But he hasn't, he hasn't.
AUNT IDA. Eh?
PHYLLIS. You know what I mean, Aunt Ida. _I'm_ marriageable, but _Celia_--well--_Celia's_ just--_unmarried_.
EVELYN. (_With smiling sarcasm_) And very likely to stay so.
AUNT IDA. (_Grunts_) Huh!
TARVER. That's just it, but tell me, what is your father's dearest wish in life?
PHYLLIS. To get rid of us _both_, of course.
AUNT IDA. _Phyllis Faraday!_
EVELYN. (_Putting magazine on sofa and putting out cigarette on ashtray_) Yes, so that he can give up this house to live at his club, but he promised poor mother to wait till we were all married----
TARVER. Yes, and he knows there's a better chance of getting Celia off his hands as long as Phyllis is about, because people will go on talking of her and Celia as the two Faraday _girls_, and lumping good old Celia into the girl division just out of habit. He won't risk letting Miss Celia put on a third pair of green stockings. (TARVER _looks around for ashtray, sees one on upper end of table, rises, goes to upper end of table, flicks ashes on tray and strolls down right of sofa and sits lower end of fender_.)
AUNT IDA. Eh? Will you tell me what all this has to do with Celia's _stockings?_
(PHYLLIS _sits in chair_ L. _of table_ R.)
EVELYN. (_Rising leisurely, going to lower end of table, taking her fan and crossing to_ AUNT IDA, _speaking as she goes_) Not Celia's _stockings_, Aunt Ida, her _green stockings_.
AUNT IDA. Eh?
EVELYN. Why, yes. Have you never known of the old country custom which requires an elder sister to wear _green stockings_ at the wedding of her _younger_ sister, if that _younger_ sister has captured a husband _first?_
AUNT IDA. (_Turning her back to_ EVELYN _with disgust_) No, I never heard of such rubbish.
EVELYN. (_Patronizingly, crossing to head of table_ R. _and speaking as she crosses_) And poor old Celia has had to put them on twice already. Once for Madge and once for me, and now comes Phyllis. (_Puts her hand on_ PHYLLIS'S _shoulder_.)
PHYLLIS. And if I have to wait to be married until Celia is out of the way---- (_Sighs_. EVELYN _moves above table and down_ R. _of sofa_.) Oh, couldn't we think of anybody who might marry Celia? Evelyn, do you think you could do anything about it with Henry Steele or Jimmie Raleigh?
TARVER. (_With a brilliant inspiration_) If it comes to that, why shouldn't _Admiral Grice_ be got to marry Miss Celia? (_Everybody exclaims and throws up their hands in horror_.)
(EVELYN _sits on sofa_.)
PHYLLIS. (_Horrified_) Oh, Bobby!
TARVER. Yes, Grice. (_Thoughtfully, strolling center below table_) Isn't half a bad idea, come to think of it. I'd like to get even with Grice. (AUNT IDA _gives a grunt of disgust_.) The way he keeps roaring questions at me all day about my election, and neither he nor Miss Celia are what you might call--in the first bloom of their youth.
AUNT IDA. (_Interrupting sharply_) _Mr. Tarver_, my niece, Miss Celia Faraday, is a dear, delightful young woman, still under thirty.
EVELYN. (_Again with smiling sarcasm_) Yes, but how _much_ under, Aunt Ida?
TARVER. Yes, as Lady Trenchard says, how _much_ is Miss Celia Faraday under thirty? Thirty-two is freezing-point, remember. (PHYLLIS _laughs_.)
AUNT IDA. Tcha! (_Picks up knitting and goes on with it angrily_.)
TARVER. (_Chuckling to himself and strolling right to foot of table_) Jimmie Raleigh said a very true thing about her. He said, "Whenever I talk to Miss Faraday, I'm warranted to stay cold for days--like a Thermos bottle." (_Sits on stool_.)
PHYLLIS. Oh, Bobby!
AUNT IDA. Oh, Mr. Tarver! (_Smiling with suppressed fury_) I _should_ like to have you in Chicago for a week.
TARVER. (_Taking her seriously_) Oh, thanks awfully. I dare say some day, after my election, I shall have to look up America. Just at present, though, I have too much on my mind.
AUNT IDA. Shouldn't overburden the weak, Mr. Tarver.
PHYLLIS. (_Showing resentment_) Oh, Aunt Ida! (EVELYN _laughs_.)
TARVER. (_Rises, gives_ AUNT IDA _a resentful look, turns up_ R. _by fender and addresses_ EVELYN) But the great thing now is to get old Grice to _propose_ to Miss Celia.
EVELYN. (_Very patronizingly_) Why, yes, Bobby. Then out of gratitude she might go out and canvass for you.
TARVER. (_Doubtfully_) Ye-es, that would be very nice, of course. (_Rises enthusiastically_.) But fascinating girls are what is needed at a time like this--like you, Lady Trenchard, and Phyllis and Mrs. Rockingham. (_He bows to each as he addresses them. Going up to_ MADGE _at desk_ R.) I say, when is your husband coming back from India?
MADGE. Not till Christmas. (_Rises_.)
TARVER. Then _you_ can spend all _your_ time canvassing for me, can't you?
MADGE. (_Patronizingly_) Oh, of course, Bobby.
TARVER. (_Crossing_ L. _to_ C.) Thanks awfully. And you two girls can do the same. But your sister--well---- (MADGE _comes to head of magazine table_.)
AUNT IDA. (_Turning on him quickly_) _Well, what, Mr. Tarver?_
TARVER. (_Very diffidently_) Well, I'm afraid _she_ wouldn't be of much use--you see, she's rather difficult--isn't she?
AUNT IDA. Difficult!
TARVER. (_Seeing he has made a break, tries to recover himself_) Well, not quite the sort of person to make friends for one, don't you know?
AUNT IDA. (_Growing more and more enraged, rises and faces him_) _Mr. Tarver!_
TARVER. (_Now thoroughly frightened_) Well, shall we say a,--a--a trifle cold?
AUNT IDA. (_Backing him across stage to foot of table_ R.) Yes, and who has made her a trifle cold--(_Imitating_ TARVER)-and difficult? _You_ and your _Henry Steeles_ and _Jimmy Raleighs_.
ALL THE GIRLS TOGETHER. Aunt Ida!
TARVER. Oh, I say!
AUNT IDA. Yes, where is she now, I would like to know? Freezing for an hour on an open wharf in the pouring rain, three miles away, because nobody took the trouble to think of her.
MADGE. (_Coming center. Protestingly_) Oh, Aunt Ida, I heard the motor leave not two minutes ago.
AUNT IDA. Yes, just about two hours too late. (MADGE _goes above table and joins girls, who with_ TARVER _are evidently alarmed under_ AUNT IDA'S _attack and express it in a murmur_. TARVER _sits_.) Oh, if only she doesn't get tired of waiting before the motor can get there.
TARVER. (_To girls_) Don't worry. Don't worry. Why should she get tired? It would look like a lack of confidence in you if she stopped waiting.
AUNT IDA. Yes, and Celia is certainly accustomed to waiting for and on every one of you.
GIRLS and TARVER. Now, you know---- Oh, I say.
(MADGE _turns up to piano_.)
AUNT IDA. (_Continuing_) She is a back number. That's your constant suggestion, and because she hasn't found a Jim Raleigh to love her, she is on the shelf--(_Disgustedly_)--a Jim Raleigh.
(TARVER _and_ PHYLLIS _rise and she consoles him_.)
RALEIGH. (_Entering gayly through morning room_) Hello, what's that about me? (_Goes directly to_ AUNT IDA. _They turn to table_ L.)
(AUNT IDA _flustered and exclaiming. Immediately following_ RALEIGH _are_ FARADAY, GRICE _and_ STEELE _in the foregoing order. They are chatting and smoking and are all in evening dress_.)
FARADAY. (_Cheerily_) You don't mind, girls, if we bring in our cigars?
MADGE _and_ EVELYN. Not at all, Father.
(FARADAY _crosses immediately to card table and looks it over_.)
GRICE. (_Coming down_ R. _of sofa. Gruffly to_ TARVER) _Tarver_, I want to ask you a question.
TARVER. (_Going reluctantly to him_) Yes, sir.
(PHYLLIS _looks reproachfully at_ GRICE _and sits again in chair_ L. _of table_ R., _swinging her foot and watching_ TARVER _and_ GRICE. STEELE _goes to head of sofa and talks with_ LADY TRENCHARD. MADGE _remains by piano, turning over music_. RALEIGH _crosses to left of table, above table, still talking to_ AUNT IDA. _All of this business occurs almost simultaneously and quickly_.)
FARADAY. (_Coming out of card room. Irritably_) Madge, where are those new markers?
MADGE. I don't know, Father. Celia attends to everything.
FARADAY. (_Coming down center. Testily_) Well, God bless my soul, where is Celia?
(MADGE _gradually comes down_ C., R. _of_ FARADAY.)
AUNT IDA. (_Facing him. Vehemently_) God bless your soul, William Faraday, down on the wharf in the pouring rain----
FARADAY. What's that?
AUNT IDA. (_Continuing_) Frozen to death by this time.
FARADAY. God bless my soul!
AUNT IDA. (_Continuing_) For all any one cares.
FARADAY. But I need her. She must be sent for at once.
(_Door opens suddenly_. CELIA, _in dripping oilskins and drenched veil, carrying a soaking wet traveling bag, enters and crosses immediately from_ L.IE. _to_ R.I. _All give start of surprise_.)
OMNES. Celia! Miss Faraday! (_Etc_.)
AUNT IDA. Darling!
MADGE. (_As_ CELIA _gets center. Coming down center_) We did send the motor for you, Celia, only it was too late.
CELIA. (_Pausing at door_) Yes, I know, Madgie, but when I met him, he wouldn't stop. He took me for the fish-monger---- (_Exit quickly_ R.IE.)
FARADAY. Fish-monger! God bless my soul!
MADGE. (_Idiotically to girls_) She must have walked.
EVELYN _and_ PHYLLIS. Why, yes.
AUNT IDA. Well, she could hardly sleep on the wharf, could she?
GRICE. (_To_ STEELE) What an unfortunate way that poor woman has of doing things that make everyone feel uncomfortable.
STEELE. (_To_ GRICE) Yes, the idea of her walking up here alone in the rain!
EVELYN. (_To girls_) Wherever did she get the clothes?
CELIA. (_Off stage_) Martin, send to the station at once for my hat and coat and return these things to Wilson. He borrowed them from the pilot.
GRICE. Wilson?
EVELYN. (_Patronizingly_) He is the man at the station. _He's_ Celia's slave.
(CELIA _re-enters without oilskins and stands at door_ R. _She is in a simple traveling dress_.)
FARADAY. (_From center of stage_) God bless my soul, Celia, where have you been?
CELIA. Why; I've been away, Father, for a week. Perhaps you haven't noticed it.
FARADAY. Not noticed it? I have missed you very much. I never get all the right things for breakfast when you're away!
CELIA. Sorry, Father. (CELIA _crosses quickly to_ AUNT IDA, _who is in the center of the stage_, FARADAY _having turned and gone up into the card room_. CELIA _nodding as she crosses, to the_ ADMIRAL _and the girls_) Good evening, Admiral. Well, girls.
(ADMIRAL _acknowledges her greeting with a grunt_, STEELE _with a stiff bow, and the girls say_, "_Good evening_, CELIA.")
CELIA. Well, Aunt Ida.
AUNT IDA. (_Kissing her on both cheeks_) Dear child!
(CELIA _passing_ L. _over to_ MR. RALEIGH, _who is left of table_ L. CELIA _offers her hand, which he takes with a very bored air. Meanwhile, the groups break up after_ CELIA _has passed_. LADY TRENCHARD _joins the_ ADMIRAL _and_ STEELE _at upper end of sofa_. PHYLLIS _joins_ TARVER; _they sit at lower end of fender_, PHYLLIS _sitting in chair below fender_. AUNT IDA _joins_ MADGE _and they all talk in dumb show during_ CELIA'S _scene with_ RALEIGH.)
CELIA. Mr. Raleigh, how are you?
RALEIGH. I am very well, thank you. (_Pause_.) Yes.
CELIA. Yes?
RALEIGH. (_In a bored monotone, looking straight in front of him_) Yes. I hope you enjoyed yourself, Miss Faraday. You were in London?
CELIA. No, at Southampton.
RALEIGH. Oh, yes--er--all amongst the ships and things,
CELIA. Yes.
RALEIGH. Yes.
CELIA. Won't you sit down, Mr. Raleigh?
RALEIGH. No, thanks. I never sit down.
CELIA. Eh?
RALEIGH. After dinner.
CELIA. Oh.
RALEIGH. You have been away quite a long time, Miss Faraday?
CELIA. Yes, for me.
RALEIGH. Yes, I mean for you. Well--nothing much has happened.
CELIA. Well, one hardly expects much, does one?
RALEIGH. No. Oh, Manners has got himself engaged.
CELIA. Really? To Jennie Woodcote, I suppose?
RALEIGH. Yes; they were all saying it was her last chance.
CELIA. Yes, they would.
RALEIGH. Of course, that's all nonsense. Nowadays, there's no--a----
CELIA. Age limit?
RALEIGH. Exactly! (_Then catching himself up in great confusion_) No, no! Good Lord, no! I didn't mean----
FARADAY. (_Coming forward_ L.C.) Well, we might as well have some bridge. (_Murmurs of_ "_Oh, splendid!_")
RALEIGH. (_With a shout of relief backs away from_ CELIA _toward card room_) _Bridge! Oh, splendid!_
(EVELYN _and_ STEELE _go slowly to card room_. TARVER _starts_ L.)
GRICE. (_Quickly_) Tarver, I have another question to ask you.
TARVER. (_To_ FARADAY, _enthusiastically_) Admiral Grice plays a ripping game.
FARADAY. (_Gayly_) Come along, Admiral. Come along.
GRICE. (_Crossing left_. FARADAY _takes him by the arm. They go up to card room together, chatting gayly_) Not bad. Not bad.
(_These last few lines are played very quickly_. CELIA _has remained in chair_ R. _of_ L. _table after_ RALEIGH _has gone to card room_. AUNT IDA _and_ MADGE _are standing up stage and those who have gone into the card room seat themselves in the following fashion, after the settling of partners in dumb show_: RALEIGH _is seated down stage, his back to the audience_; LADY TRENCHARD _to his right_, FARADAY _to his left, and_ ADMIRAL GRICE _opposite him. They begin their game of bridge_. TARVER _has gone up_ R. _of sofa, getting a cigarette at head of table_. PHYLLIS _throws herself lightly on the sofa on her knees, gathering up_ CELIA'S _letters and flourishing them at her_.)
PHYLLIS. Celia, here are some letters for you.
CELIA. (_Crossing to chair_ L. _of table_ R. _and sitting_) Letters for me?
PHYLLIS. One is a big one. (_Gives_ CELIA _letters, kneeling on sofa_.)
CELIA. I don't suppose any of them are very important.
PHYLLIS. (_Pityingly_) No, I don't suppose so.
CELIA. (_Looking at letters_) Circulars. Circulars. (_Tears open one envelope and takes out circular letter. Then seeing big envelope, says brightly as she picks it up and draws out fashion plates_) Oh, spring fashions.
PHYLLIS. (_With an air of superiority_) Oh, _you_ don't want those. Give them to _me_.
(CELIA _submissively hands them, over, leaving large blue envelope on table_. PHYLLIS _takes them and sits on sofa with_ TARVER, _who has come down after lighting his cigarette. They hold hands, backs to_ CELIA, _looking at fashions_.)
CELIA. (_Reading letter that she has opened_) "Dear Sir or Madam: Having secured our unparalleled stock of sherry wine on a falling market----" (_Drops envelope and opens another. Reads_) "Dear Madam: You are cordially invited to attend our spring opening of household linens--"
FARADAY. (_Coming from card room_) Madge, you will play?
MADGE. No, thanks, I'll finish my letter. (_Who has been talking to_ AUNT IDA, _goes back to writing table up_ R. _and resumes writing_.)
FARADAY. (_Disappointedly_) And Phyllis doesn't.
AUNT IDA. Well, there's Celia.
FARADAY. (_Coming down to_ CELIA,) God bless my soul! Of course, why did I forget?
CELIA. Oh--that's all right, Father. (_Cheerfully opening her letters_) It's being done, you know.
FARADAY. (_To_ TARVER _and_ PHYLLIS, _who are seated on sofa, holding hands_) Now, then, you two, none of that! No holding hands! (_They rise quickly, looking embarrassed and facing father_.) You are; not engaged yet, you know.
CELIA. (_Happily_) Engaged? Phyllis and Mr. Tarver?
FARADAY. (_Reassuringly_) No, no, certainly not. Nothing of the kind. Cheer up, my dear. (_Patting_ CELIA _on the shoulder_) You don't suppose I would allow a chick like _Phyllis_ to marry with you on my hands still?
AUNT IDA. (_Who has been watching him and listening to him_) William! (_She takes him by the arm and they go up to the card room together_.)
(_There are now in the card room_ GRICE, FARADAY, STEELE, RALEIGH, LADY TRENCHARD _and_ AUNT IDA. AUNT IDA _is out of sight_. RALEIGH, LADY TRENCHARD, GRICE _and_ FARADAY _are playing_. STEELE _is circulating about above table_. TARVER _goes up in the morning room, sits left of table, and reads a magazine_. CELIA _rises and goes to_ PHYLLIS, _who meets her below sofa_.)
CELIA. Phyllis----?
PHYLLIS. (_Eagerly_) Oh, Celia, you don't really mind, do you? Just because _you can't_--I mean, because you _don't want_ to--get married, you won't try to stop Bobby and me, will you?
CELIA. (_In a hurt tone_) Phyllis--dear----
PHYLLIS. (_Relieved_) I knew you wouldn't. I _told_ Bobby----!
CELIA. And do you mean to say that Mr. Tarver---- (_Controlling herself with effort_) Phyllis, dear---- You ought to know--by now--there isn't anything I wouldn't do to make my littlest sister happy. (_Patting_ PHYLLIS _on cheek_.)
PHYLLIS. (_Carelessly engrossed in her own affairs_) Oh, of course, I _know_ that. But, Celia, you're quite mistaken and unjust about poor Bobby.
CELIA. (_Smiling, rather bitterly_) Oh--I hope not, Phyllis. I--can't stand--injustice!
PHYLLIS. (_Kneeling on stool_ R.C.) _But you are!_ In spite of all his worries and preoccupations about his election, Bobby takes the _greatest interest_ in you, Celia----
CELIA. (_Crosses_ C. _Smiles ironically_) Yes?
PHYLLIS. I tell you _he does!_ (_Forgetting herself in her zeal_) As soon as he has time, Bobby means to do everything he can to get _Admiral Grice to propose to you!_
CELIA. (_Recoiling_) What!!
PHYLLIS. (_Crestfallen_) Oh--I oughtn't to have told you, I suppose. But it's true, all the same. (_Reproachfully_) You don't appreciate Bobby's _noble nature_, Celia. You don't know how Bobby realizes your--your _loneliness_, Celia. Unless you could hear him talk about you, you'd never guess how much darling Bobby _pities_ you.
CELIA. (_In a changed voice_) Phyllis. One moment, please---- (_With an effort at calm_) Do you mean to say that you and--and Mr. Tarver have been--been discussing--me? Oh! (_Clenching her handkerchief_.)
PHYLLIS. Not _discussing_---- (_Self-righteously_) Bobby _would not discuss_ anybody. But--you see, Celia, we were all--Aunt Ida and all of us--talking, just in fun, about your having to wear Green Stockings once more at my wedding, and Bobby--(_Laughs to herself_) Darling Bobby, _is so witty_----!
CELIA. Oh, yes--go on, Phyllis.
PHYLLIS. (_Injured_) Well, but he is.
CELIA. Oh, yes--yes----
PHYLLIS. And so Bobby was just being most awfully _sweet_ and _sympathetic_ about your--_your position_.
CELIA. My position--! (_Between her teeth_) My--position! And so Mr. Robert Tarver was kind enough to express concern, was he--because there was no possible chance of any decent man ever wanting to marry me?
PHYLLIS. (_Half frightened_) Oh, Celia! (_Rises_.)
CELIA. And he makes jokes about my stockings. (_Goes_ L. _to chair_ R. _of table_ L. _and stands beside it_.) I can hear his jokes!
PHYLLIS. Oh, Celia! Bobby is witty.
CELIA. (_Ironically_) Yes, very.
FARADAY. (_In card room_) I don't think much of that, Admiral.
GRICE. (_In card room_) You don't? What's the matter with it?
(_These last two lines are spoken hurriedly, almost together in card room, as_ CELIA'S _expression conveys to the audience her sudden determination to invent her story_.)
CELIA. (_With entire change of manner_) Call him down here, Phyllis, please, and tell him I want to speak to him.
PHYLLIS. Celia! (_Crossing to center_) But why?
CELIA. Oh, nothing. I only want to thank him, you know, about old Admiral Grice, and tell him that he need no longer complicate his anxiety about his election with worries about me or the color of my stockings.
PHYLLIS. (_Startled_) Why, Celia--what do you mean?
CELIA. Well, you see--(_Laughs_)--I am not quite accustomed to announcing--_my_ engagement.
PHYLLIS. (_With undisguised amazement. Haltingly_) _Your engagement?_ Why--it's impossible.
CELIA. Yes, that's what Mr. Tarver says. Well, now suppose we call him down here, Phyllis, and tell him he is mistaken.
PHYLLIS. Oh-Ce-lia! (_Embraces_ CELIA _gushingly. Rushes up to_ TARVER _and calling_) Bobby, Bobby, Bobby, Bobby! (_TARVER drops his magazine_, PHYLLIS _drags him down_ R. _of_ CELIA. _He is right of_ PHYLLIS.) What do you think? Celia's engaged to be married.
TARVER. (_Looks at her, greatly astonished, dropping his eyeglass_) Never!
CELIA. (_Sarcastically_) Thanks so much, Mr. Tarver, for your kind congratulations.
PHYLLIS. (_Who has run up to card room, calling_) Aunt Ida, Aunt Ida!
(TARVER _pauses a moment and then goes_ R., _looking over at_ CELIA _incredulously as he goes. He finally sits on fender_.)
CELIA. (_Calling up to_ PHYLLIS) Oh, Phyllis, I only meant to tell you and Mr. Tarver.
PHYLLIS. (_Excitedly. Bringing down_ AUNT IDA _extreme_ L.) Aunt Ida! Celia is engaged to be married.
AUNT IDA. (_Coming down left of table and below table to_ CELIA. _Smiling happily_) Darling--at last---- (_Kisses_ CELIA.)
PHYLLIS. (_Dances across to center_) I can be married now. _I_ can be married now. (_Runs across to_ MADGE _and sits on piano stool_.)
AUNT IDA. I knew that this would happen.
CELIA. Did you, Aunt Ida? (_These last two lines spoken hurriedly and together_.)
PHYLLIS. Madge, what do you think? Celia is engaged.
MADGE. (_Rises, drops her pen in blank surprise_) _Not really!_
(PHYLLIS _runs to_ BOBBY, _who is on fender, and they sit together, talking excitedly, and looking at_ CELIA.)
FARADAY. (_Entering from card room. Testily_) Now then, now then, can't you girls make a little less noise?
MADGE. Oh, Father! (_Rushes to him, brings him_ C. _She is_ R. _of him_.) What do you think has happened? Celia is engaged to be married. (_Pauses a moment to listen to ensuing dialogue and then runs up to card room and in dumb show tells others of_ CELIA'S _engagement. They also in pantomime express surprise and incredulity. They come slowly out of card room_.)
FARADAY. God--bless--my--soul! (_A broad grin breaks slowly on his face_) Celia--engaged?
CELIA. Why, yes, Father, if you have no objection to the prospect of my leaving you.
FARADAY. Objection? (_Joyfully_) Why, I'm delighted, my dear girl, delighted.
(AUNT IDA _and_ CELIA _exchange glances and_ AUNT IDA, _disgusted at_ FARADAY, _goes up to card room and talks to_ EVELYN.)
CELIA. Yes, Father, I thought you would be pleased.
FARADAY. Pleased? (_With mock sentiment_) I hope I show a father's feelings when his eldest daughter proposes to--er--desert the home-nest. (_Murmurs up in card room. Reverting to his former attitude of enthusiasm_) And who is he? What's the d-e-a-r fellow's name? Eh, Celia?
(EVELYN _comes down extreme left_. RALEIGH, GRICE _and_ STEELE _up_ L.C. AUNT IDA _comes back of chair_, R. _of table_ L. PHYLLIS _kneels on sofa, facing_ CELIA. TARVER _comes and sits in chair below fender_.)
MADGE. (_Coming down_ R.C.) Yes, Celia, tell us all about him. Who is he? (_Sits_ L. _of table_ R.)
CELIA. (_Standing by chair_ R. _of table_ L. _Slowly_) Well--he is in the army.
RALEIGH. (_Quickly to_ STEELE) A soldier, eh?
EVELYN. What's his rank?
CELIA. He's a cap--a colonel--dear--a colonel.
(FARADAY _center_, GRICE _up_ L.C., RALEIGH _and_ STEELE _up_ L.C. EVELYN L. _of table_ L.)
FARADAY. Colonel? What's his name?
CELIA. (_Pause_) Smith.
(_They all show pained surprise_.)
FARADAY. Smith?
CELIA. Yes, _John_ Smith.
FARADAY. Smith--huh-- (_Genially_) Well, of course the dear fellow isn't to be held responsible for that. Eh, Admiral? (_Joins_ AUNT IDA _and_ GRICE _up_ C.)
GRICE. (_To_ FARADAY. _Coming down_ R.C.) Miss Faraday _engaged?_ You might knock me down with a feather. My dear, I congratulate yo--_him_, my dear, _him_.
CELIA. (_Smiling and shaking hands with_ GRICE) Thank you, Admiral, thank you.
RALEIGH. (_Up_ L.C. _to_ STEELE) Engaged!
STEELE. By George! (_They contemplate_ CELIA _from a new point of view_.)
FARADAY. (_Up_ R.C. _with_ AUNT IDA. _Smiling broadly and rubbing his hands together_) Good--old--_John_--_Smith!_
EVELYN. (_Patronizingly_) Well, Father, he _may_ be one of the _good_ Smiths, you know.
MADGE. (_From chair_ R.) If Celia would only stop being such a clam, and tell us.
CELIA. But, Madge dear, I have told you.
FARADAY. (_Comes down stage to_ R. _of_ CELIA) Well, Celia, I suppose he will be coming to _see_ us soon?
CELIA. Oh, yes--father--after the war. (_Leaning back on chair_ R. _of table_ L.)
PHYLLIS. (_Quickly_) The war?
(_All show surprise and interest_.)
CELIA. Yes, you see he sailed this morning on board a troop ship, for Somaliland. It was just within an hour of his leaving that he--spoke to me.
FARADAY. But during that hour he might have told you something about himself.
PHYLLIS. Oh, Father! How absurd! On occasions of that kind, an hour passes very quickly, (_Turns to_ TARVER _and smiles_.)
(_All laugh_.)
FARADAY. Well, I remember that when I proposed to your mother, I told her my life history _three times over_ in the first hour. (_Goes up stage_.)
EVELYN. (_Deprecatingly_) Oh, Father! (_To_ CELIA) What's his regiment?
CELIA. Oh, it is a very good one, Evelyn dear. It's one of the West African ones, you know. It has green thing-a-majigs all down the front.
(EVELYN _goes up_ L. _and crosses_ R.)
TARVER. It sounds like a garden party.
MADGE. Well, but--Celia-- (_Rises, comes to_ CELIA _and offers hand and passes_ CELIA _in front of her to chair_ L. _of table_ R.)
PHYLLIS. Oh, yes, do tell us.
CELIA. (_Sitting_ L. _of table_ R. _Eagerly, to get rid of the questions_) But there is very little to tell.
(RALEIGH _and_ STEELE _drop down_ R.C. EVELYN _joins them_. AUNT IDA _is back of_ CELIA. GRICE _is_ C. MADGE L. _of_ CELIA. FARADAY _drops down behind_ CELIA'S _chair to_ R. _of_ AUNT IDA. _They are new all grouped about_ CELIA'S _chair, except_ TARVER, _who is in chair below fender. They all show smiling interest_.)
CELIA. Well, you see, we had been together in the house all the week--and--er--this morning I was in the garden--alone--and--and he joined me. (_Pause_.) And--er--it was then. (_Covers her--face in mock confusion_.)
(_All laugh sympathetically_.)
PHYLLIS. (_From sofa_) What did he say?
CELIA. (_Looks at_ TARVER _and_ PHYLLIS _and waving toward_ TARVER) Oh, you know.
(_All laugh_.)
PHYLLIS. And--are you _happy?_
CELIA. (_Looking at group bending over her_) Well, I really believe that this change will make a very great difference in my life.
FARADAY. (_Patting_ CELIA _on shoulder_) Well, I hope so, my dear child, I hope so. Now, let's go back and finish our rubber.
(_There is a general bright buzz of conversation, such as "By jove!" "I'll bet it does," "Why, yes, Celia," "Well, I should think it would," "Indeed it will," etc_. FARADAY _goes up to card room with_ EVELYN, GRICE _and_ AUNT IDA. _They resume their bridge game in former positions_. MADGE _catches_ TARVER'S _eye and they join each other up_ R., _evidently talking about_ CELIA'S _engagement_. PHYLLIS _stops on sofa, talking across to_ CELIA, _as_ CELIA _glances over the remaining envelopes and slips them into the large blue envelope, in view of audience_.)
RALEIGH. (_To_ STEELE, L.C.) It's obvious that Smith didn't find it difficult.
STEELE. (_Who is_ R. _of_ RALEIGH. _Looking thoughtfully at_ CELIA) No, he didn't. Perhaps, we have all been mistaken. You know she isn't so bad looking--if you look long enough. (STEELE _starts to cross to_ CELIA. RALEIGH _stops him and goes over himself_. STEELE _comes back of chair_ L.)
RALEIGH. Miss Faraday, _I_ haven't congratulated you yet. I hope you won't go off to Southampton soon again. We all missed you _dreadfully_ when you were away.
(STEELE _shows impatience at_ RALEIGH'S _talking to_ CELIA.)
CELIA. I'm sure you did. My coming back as I've done seems to have made a _very great difference_.
RALEIGH. Oh, _great_. Believe me, _great_. Well, you've every good wish of mine. (_Gushingly extending his hand, which_ CELIA _takes amusedly_.)
CELIA. (_Warmly_) I am sure I have, Mr. Raleigh.
FARADAY. (_From card room_) Come, Raleigh.
RALEIGH. (_Over his shoulder_) But you threw down your cards.
FARADAY. Well, I'm going to take them up again.
GRICE. (_Impatiently_) Come along, Raleigh!
STEELE. (_Triumphantly motions_ RALEIGH _back to card room and eagerly takes his place beside_ CELIA'S _chair_) What Raleigh has just said, I most warmly echo, my dear Miss Faraday.
(RALEIGH _returns and takes_ STEELE _by the arm_.)
RALEIGH. You are wanted over here, Steele.
(CELIA _watches them with amusement_.)
STEELE. But I am cut out.
RALEIGH. (_Taking_ STEELE _back to card room_) Well, you can cut in again.
(STEELE _goes reluctantly back to card room, protesting to_ RALEIGH _and looking back over his shoulder at_ CELIA _as he goes. Those in card room resume former positions and go on with bridge game_.)
MADGE. (_Coming down to_ CELIA _and putting her arms around her_) Celia!
(TARVER _strolls up to morning room and sits right of table and begins reading again_.)
CELIA. Yes.
MADGE. The _Indian Mail_ goes out to-night-via Brindisi and Port Said.
CELIA. Well?
MADGE. _Port Said_. That's where letters to Somaliland will be transferred.
(CELIA _is startled_.)
PHYLLIS. Oh, of course you must write to him. (_Jumps up, runs up to writing table_ R.C., _brings blotter from table, containing sheets of paper, envelopes, pens and ink, and puts them on magazine table; stands above and to the_ R. _of_ CELIA.)
CELIA. (_Protestingly_) But it's too late.
MADGE. No, the post doesn't go until ten. You have just time.
PHYLLIS. (_Opening blotting pad and ink well_) You must, if it is only a note. He will be expecting something.
CELIA. Oh, I couldn't write in such a hurry.
PHYLLIS. (_Forcing pen into_ CELIA'S _hand_) You must.
CELIA. (_Laughingly_) Well, I can't write with you two at my elbows, you know.
(MADGE _goes slowly up into card room, turning and smiling at_ CELIA _as she goes_.)
PHYLLIS. (_Running up and around and down to foot of sofa_) I shan't look. (_Kneels on Chesterfield sofa, facing_ CELIA) What do you call him?
CELIA. (_At a loss_) I don't know.
PHYLLIS. (_Surprised_) You don't know?
CELIA. (_Recovering herself_) I mean, dear, I use a pet name.
PHYLLIS. Oh, lovely, what is it?
CELIA. Really, it's too absurd, you know, Phyllis. It's--it's--_Wobbles_.
PHYLLIS. (_Laughing and surprised_) Wobbles!
CELIA. Yes, dear. Everybody calls him--Wobbles.
PHYLLIS. (_Laughing_) Celia, it's delicious. Fancy your being married to a man called Wobbles! (_Pretending to write in the air_) "My darling Wobbles." (_Laughs and runs up to_ TARVER, _who is seated reading in the morning room, saying as she goes_) Bobby, what do you think? (_She tells_ TARVER _the name of_ CELIA'S _fiance in dumb show as she sits opposite him_.)
CELIA. (_Writing_) "My darling Wobbles."
(TARVER _laughs. Laugh in card room_.)
CELIA. (_Looks around to see that no one is overlooking or watching her. Writes_) "I hardly know how to write you. It all seems too hauntingly beautiful to be true. I see your face everywhere--Wobbles. The very tulips have a look of you. Oh, dearest, don't get wounded in the war." (_Leans back and laughs to herself_) Good Heavens, when I got up this morning, did I ever think that I should be doing anything like this? (_Resumes writing_) "This is my first love letter, Wobbles, but even I know how it ought to end. Crosses, Wobbles, crosses. One, two, three, four, five, nought, nought, nought, nought, nought. To be taken as required. Thine forever. Celia Faraday." (PHYLLIS _comes to right of sofa and hands envelope to_ CELIA.) Thank you, dear. (TARVER _strolls down center, looking at_ CELIA. CELIA _turns letter face down on blotter to prevent its being seen by_ PHYLLIS. _Then seeing that she is being scrutinised by_ TARVER _and_ PHYLLIS, _she takes envelope from_ PHYLLIS, _places letter in it, addresses it and seals it. Addressing letter_) "Colonel Smith, Field Force, Somaliland, Africa."
TARVER. I say, Miss Faraday.
CELIA. Yes.
TARVER. I hope awfully that _you_ will _help_ me in my election.
RALEIGH. (_Speaking from card room, turning in his chair and holding card aloft_) Yes, it's just girls like you, Miss Faraday, who win the day.
TARVER. Righto!!
GRICE. (_Thumping the table_) Have you none of that suit, sir?
RALEIGH. (_Whirling around and playing_) Oh, yes, I beg your pardon.
(MADGE _comes to desk, gets her letter, goes down to foot of sofa and hands it to_ PHYLLIS. STEELE _sees that_ CELIA _has finished letter and comes slowly down_ C.)
CELIA. Of course, I will help you, Mr. Tarver. It's awfully nice to have _you_ ask _me_ for help, you know.
TARVER. Oh, thanks awfully. (_Goes up and around to_ PHYLLIS, _who is on sofa, talks to_ MADGE _and_ PHYLLIS.)
STEELE. You have finished, Miss Faraday?
CELIA. Yes.
STEELE. May I put that letter in the box for you?
CELIA. No, thanks. I will see to it.
STEELE. Well--wouldn't you like to come and play a game of billiards?
CELIA. No, thank you. I really must go and change my shoes. (_Indicating her feet_) You can see that these are quite damp.
STEELE. (_Most graciously_) I can't be expected to see things so small as that. But--(_Getting chair from left_) Won't you let me talk to you for just a minute?
CELIA. (_Rising_) I really must go and change.
(STEELE _disconsolately and slowly puts back chair, leaving it turned on stage. He stands watching_ CELIA _for a moment, then walks up_ L. _of table_ L., _looking at big picture on left wall as he goes_. NOTE: EVELYN _should give him a signal when_ CELIA _exits_.)
MADGE. I will go with you, dear. (_Goes to door_ R.I _and takes the knob in her hand_.)
(TARVER _sits on fender, leans over and talks intently to_ PHYLLIS.)
CELIA. No, don't bother, Madgie.
MADGE. It's no bother. I have a lovely new frock I want to show you. You might want to copy it for your trousseau. (_Exit_ R.)
CELIA. (_Puzzled_) My trousseau? (_Recovers herself_) My trousseau, oh, yes, yes, my trousseau. (_Looks quickly and vainly about for some place to hide letter, either in her dress or under the table. No one is looking at_ CELIA _during this business. She sees large blue envelope in which she has already placed two unopened letters_. NOTE: _The flap of this large envelope must be turned in. She quickly holds it up and slips the letter to_ SMITH _inside and hides it between the periodicals on lower end of table. She then looks around to see that no one has observed her and exits quickly_ R.)
(PHYLLIS _beckons to_ TARVER _and he sits beside her on sofa. Immediately_ CELIA _exits_, STEELE _starts after her. When he gets down_ R.C., RALEIGH _rushes after him, carrying a card_.)
RALEIGH. Where are you going?
STEELE. I thought perhaps Miss Faraday might let me put on her slippers.
RALEIGH. (_Taking_ STEELE _by the arm_) Well, she is not going to put them on in the hall. She has gone to her room. You come back here.
GRICE. (_Shouts loudly and bangs table and jumps up_) Raleigh!
FARADAY. Is this a game of bridge or a game of tag?
RALEIGH _and_ STEELE. I beg your pardon! (_They rush back to card room and_ RALEIGH _plays card that he has carried away_.)
FARADAY. There now, he revoked too, and that's game and rubber.
(STEELE _strolls down extreme_ L., _goes_ R. _a few steps and stands watching door where_ CELIA _has made her exit_.)
RALEIGH. (_Coming down_ R.C., _also looking toward door_ R.I) Do I owe anything?
(FARADAY _goes_ C. _up stage_. GRICE _comes_ C. _down stage_. EVELYN _comes_ R. _of_ L. _table with a bridge score in her hand_.)
GRICE. (_Coming down center above and to the_ L. _of_ RALEIGH) Do you owe anything? You have revoked, lost the rubber, played the worst game I have ever seen, and now you ask if you owe anything. Yes, you owe Lady Trenchard three and six.
(RALEIGH _turns_ L. _to_ EVELYN _and pays her_.)
FARADAY. (_Moving_ R. _toward morning room_) Come and have a whiskey and soda.
TARVER. Whiskey and soda. What, ho! (_He rises_.)
(GRICE, FARADAY _and_ TARVER _exit through morning room. Enter_ MARTIN L.I _with salver_. STEELE _starts for door_ R.I _and gets to door_. RALEIGH _goes up to morning room. Just as he gets to the door, he sees_ STEELE, _who is about to exit after_ CELIA.)
RALEIGH. No, you don't, Steele. You come along here.
(STEELE _goes up_ R. _of sofa and exits with_ RALEIGH, _protesting. There is a general lively subdued conversation during these exits_.)
MARTIN. (_When only_ PHYLLIS _and_ EVELYN _are left on the stage_) It is time for the letters, your Ladyship.
EVELYN. (_Goes_ L. _above table, adding up her bridge score and deferring the matter to_ PHYLLIS) Oh, Phyllis.
PHYLLIS. (_Crossing to_ MARTIN _with letter that_ MADGE _has given her_) Here's one of Mrs. Rockingham's. (MARTIN _comes_ C., _takes it and turns to door_ L. PHYLLIS _turns back_ R. _Stopping_) Oh, Martin. (MARTIN _stops at table_ R.) Has Miss Faraday given you one?
MARTIN. No, Miss.
PHYLLIS. I will call her-- Wait a minute-- Perhaps she left it here. (_Warn electrician for lights out_. PHYLLIS _looks about on table and writing desk, then returns to table. She aimlessly rummages through pile of periodicals at foot of table, knocking them off on the floor. In replacing them, she comes across blue envelope, and in picking this up by one corner, the letters that_ CELIA _has put in it, including the "Smith" letter, fall to the floor. She goes to replace the letters, sees the "Smith" letter, and speaks_) Oh, here it is. (_Reads address_) Colonel John Smith, Somaliland. (_Crosses and gives letter to_ MARTIN _and he exits_ L.I. _She returns to table, places two of the magazines back on it, then the large blue envelope in which she has replaced other letters, and then the rest of the magazines on top of these. All this should be done quickly and unconsciously_, PHYLLIS _humming while she is doing it_.)
EVELYN. (_After_ PHYLLIS _has replaced magazines_) I wonder who he is. Oh, let's look him up in the army list. (_Gets army list from book slide, table_ L.)
PHYLLIS. Oh, let's. (_Crosses to_ EVELYN _and together they turn over the pages to the S's. Reading_) "Smith--Smith--Smith--Smith"-- Oh, here it is. "J. N. Smith, D. S. O."
EVELYN. (_With mild surprise_) Distinguished Service Order.
PHYLLIS. (_Reading_) "West African Rifles."
EVELYN. (_Crossing_ R. _to morning room_) I suppose that's the man.
PHYLLIS. It must be. (_Replaces army list in book slide and runs after_ EVELYN _toward morning room to electric light switch by door_) The Rifles wear green thing-a-majigs on their tunics, don't they?
EVELYN. Yes, I think they do.
(PHYLLIS _switches off light and then_ EVELYN _puts out lamp in the morning room as they exit chatting. The room is lighted now only by the firelight and light in card room. As soon as the stage is clear_, CELIA _enters cautiously. She goes to table_ R., _looks for large envelope, finds it and throws it quickly into the fire, not looking at its contents. She stands thinking a moment, then goes to table_ L., _looks at book rack, snatches out army list, crosses and, after making sure that it is the army list by looking at it in the firelight, throws it into the fire_. NOTE: _The electrician should at this point flash on and off a thirty-two amber lamp in the fireplace to give the impression of the burning of the envelope and army list that_ CELIA _has thrown into the fire_. AUNT IDA, _who has remained out of sight in the card room, enters as_ CELIA _crosses to fire with book_.)
AUNT IDA. Why, Celia.
CELIA. (_Turns around, startled. Goes to light switch up_ R. _and turns on lights_) Oh, it's you, Aunt Ida.
AUNT IDA. (_Comes down and crosses to center and sees book in flames_) Celia, what was that?
CELIA. (_Sitting on fender and swinging her foot_) That? The army list.
AUNT IDA. The army list? And you burned it? Celia!
CELIA. Well, Aunt Ida.
AUNT IDA. (_Beside chair_ L. _of table_ R. _In low voice, almost tearfully_) Celia, darling, have you been doing something--foolish? (CELIA _laughs_.) Is there--is there--anything peculiar about--Colonel Smith?
CELIA. (_Smiling_) What would you call--peculiar, Aunt Ida?
AUNT IDA. (_With great gentleness, but evidently distressed_) Forgive me, dearest. It is--is there anything about Colonel Smith you don't want the family to know?
CELIA. Yes. (_Going to_ AUNT IDA _above chair_ R. _Laughs_) There is--something--about Colonel Smith--I don't want the family to know. (_Laughs_.)
AUNT IDA. Why, isn't he--what you said?
CELIA. (_Looking at_ AUNT IDA _and laughing_) He is not.
AUNT IDA. (_Timidly_) No--?
CELIA. He is--not!! (CELIA, _above chair_ R., _swings_ AUNT IDA _into it_.)
AUNT IDA. Mercy, child! Don't drive me crazy! He is not--not what?
CELIA. Not at all. (_Looks at_ AUNT IDA _and begins to laugh irrepressibly_.)
AUNT IDA. Celia!
CELIA. (_Bends above_ AUNT IDA, _putting her arms about her from back and kissing her neck_) Hush--listen, dear---- Will you swear you won't betray me?
AUNT IDA. But--Celia!
CELIA. Will you promise, Aunt Ida? I know I can trust you if you will only really promise never to breathe a word of what I am going to tell you to any living being?
AUNT IDA. Well--but--I am not sure.
CELIA. Oh, very well, then--if you don't want to (_Crosses to chair_ R. _of table_ L. _and sits_.)
AUNT IDA. No, no, Celia, I promise. There now, I have promised.
CELIA. Very well, then. (_Slowly and emphatically_) There--isn't--any--Colonel Smith.
AUNT IDA. (_Helplessly_) There--isn't--any--Colonel?
CELIA. None.
AUNT IDA. Then who is he?
CELIA. He _isn't_. I invented him.
AUNT IDA. (_Rising_) But, Celia--your engagement?
CELIA. Well, naturally I invented that too.
AUNT IDA. Celia Faraday, you are not telling the truth.
CELIA. (_Shaking her head_) No.
AUNT IDA. (_Going towards_ CELIA) You are deceiving everybody.
CELIA. Yes.
AUNT IDA. You are being frightfully immoral.
CELIA. Yes.
AUNT IDA. (_Startled_) And how on earth are you going to keep them from finding out?
CELIA. (_Taking_ AUNT IDA'S _hand_) Well, first of all, dear, a regiment did sail for Somaliland this morning.
AUNT IDA. Yes, but regiments sail back.
CELIA. Wobbles won't.
AUNT IDA. Wobbles?
CELIA. (_Laughing to herself_) Isn't that a heavenly name, Aunt Ida,--Wobbles?
AUNT IDA. (_Turning away from_ CELIA _reprovingly_) Celia!
CELIA. (_Still seated, throwing out her arms with a big gesture_) Oh, the difference that dear, dear man is going to make in my life. Oh, the difference.
AUNT IDA. (_Going back to_ CELIA _and putting her hand on her shoulder_) Oh, my dearest child. Do give up this mad scheme and come back with me and be happy in Chicago.
CELIA. Oh, I couldn't give it up now. It's going to be too much fun. Now be a dear and stand by me through this and then I'll go to Chicago and stay there forever, but first let me have this one mad experience, do let me enjoy my blushing triumph as a brave and absent soldier's adored fiancée. (_Crosses to table_ R. _and straightens writing things_.) Do you know, Aunt Ida, I just loved writing that first love letter to him just now.
AUNT IDA. But Celia, your letter!!!
CELIA. That is all right, dear. I burned that. Do you know what I am going to do, Aunt Ida? (_Suddenly throwing herself in chair_ L. _of table_ R.)
AUNT IDA. What?
CELIA. I am going to make it a point now to shut myself alone in my room every afternoon for hours--let someone else look after the house and the servants while I correspond with Wobbles. (AUNT IDA _laughs_.) I am going to give myself a chance at last. I'm going to do all sorts of wonderful things.
AUNT IDA. (_Down_ C.) What?
CELIA. (_Rising and coming to her_) I don't know what, but I'm going to do them. One day I'll wear a haunted look in my eye as I gaze sadly toward Somaliland. I wonder where it is. (_Looks around_.) The next, I'll have a merry laugh or else a mocking smile. By day, I'll wander through the woods and think of him. By night, I'll sit before the fire and dream of him.
AUNT IDA. Celia! Celia!
CELIA. Oh, I know I'll be a perfect fool, but I'll be the only one who will know it, and if one little fib can turn this household upside down, I am going to keep it there now just as long as it pleases me. (_Saunters right_.)
AUNT IDA. (_Frightened_) Celia, suppose you are found out!
CELIA. (_Coming back_ C.) Now, what should I do? My heroic Wobbles--my beloved Colonel Smith will die--in Somaliland. (_Going to magazine table, gets calendar, comes down_ C. _to_ AUNT IDA _and runs over leaves_.) Now, let me see when--when will he die? (_Stop's at a leaf_.) On October 11th. There, now, it is all arranged. (_She replaces calendar on table_.) After eight brief months of the most perfect understanding, I shall lose--Wobbles. After eight months, I'll write out a notice of his death and _you_ will send it to the Times.
AUNT IDA. (_Slowly_) To _The Times?_ I?
CELIA. Yes.
AUNT IDA. Never. (_Sits_ R. _of table_ L.)
CELIA. What? Not if I promise to go with you to Chicago? (AUNT IDA _shakes her head_.) And you know how much you always wanted me to do that. Oh, yes, you will, Aunt Ida. (_Goes to her_.) I'll buy the tickets to-morrow. You shall have the very nicest cabin on the whole ship. On October 11th we will kill off the Colonel and the very next day we will sail away, we'll sail away. (_Crosses_ R. _gayly_.)
AUNT IDA. I tell you, I will not help you. It's too immoral.
CELIA. Oh, very well, then. Have I, or have I not, proved now that I can help myself?
AUNT IDA. (_Rising and coming_ C. _Half angry, half laughing_) Are you, or are you not, ashamed of yourself, Celia Faraday?
CELIA. Ashamed? I? Why, no, not the least little bit in the world. I don't believe I was ever so happy in all my life.
AUNT IDA. Oh, oh!
CELIA. It's all very well, dear, for you to "Oh, oh!" at me, but I ask you, Aunt Ida, have you ever been pitied and patronized as I was here to-night, as I have been all these years, and looked upon as old and ugly and dowdy and dull?
AUNT IDA. (_Sympathetically_) Not that, Celia, not that.
CELIA. Oh, don't think I don't know those things about myself. I do, but I don't like to hear them all the time, just the same. Have you ever been a wall-flower at every ball you have gone to, while all the other girls danced and had a perfectly lovely time? Have _you_ ever been seated next to the _oldest_, _deafest_ members of the community at every dinner party you have gone to? Positively, Aunt Ida, I've grown so now that I can't talk at a dinner party except through an ear trumpet. (_Goes_ R. _and then returns_.) And, if that Tarver creature or a Jim Raleigh or that old fossil of an Admiral or any other mortal trouser-wearing remnant of humanity had ever condescended to propose to me, there isn't a man or woman in this entire household, beginning with Martin and the boot boy, who wouldn't respect me and treat me quite differently in consequence.
AUNT IDA. Yes, I know it.
CELIA. Oh, don't _I_ know it?
AUNT IDA. Yes, it has been pretty well rubbed in.
CELIA. Yes, I should say it has. Well, it has just been rubbed in so hard to-night that, as Phyllis would say, the straw has broken the worm's back and the worm has turned at last. Never, never, never again will I be content to be what I have been all these years. "Good old Celia." (_Walking_ R.) Yes, "Nice old thing." (_Walking to_ C.) Celia who doesn't want things and Celia who looks after things and Celia who doesn't mind things and Celia who attends to things. Well, Celia who attends to things is dead. Now everything attends to Celia. (_Warn curtain. From now on, gay and laughing and walking to and fro across stage with_ AUNT IDA _slowly, her arm around_ AUNT IDA'S _waist_.) When the day begins and Father shouts, "God bless my soul, what's the matter with this coffee?" (_Turns right_) I'll be upstairs in bed, drinking chocolate. And then, when the evening comes and Martin says, "Beg pardon, Miss, but the whiskey is out," I'll say, "I don't care. Colonel Smith doesn't drink." (_Turns_ L.) Instead of keeping house accounts, I'm going to write my love letters, and instead of ordering groceries, I'm going to order frocks, and wait until you see the frocks I'm going to order. (_They stop walking_.) I'm going to be a blazing dream. I'll be younger than the youngest of them, gayer than the gayest, and what do I care now what any of them say or do or think about me? I'll wear just as many green stockings as they wish at as many weddings as they please, and I'll laugh and I'll sing and I'll dance them into holes, because why? Well, I'll have a sweetheart of _my own_, don't you see? I'll be the lady love of--_Wobbles_. (_Waves her handkerchief in the air and she and_ AUNT IDA _embrace, laughing heartily_.)
QUICK CURTAIN
(_Running time, thirty to thirty-five minutes, depending on laughs_.)