SCENE III.—_The same. Time, six months later. MRS. LELAND,

sitting at table, R. C., and CALEB, L. C. Enter AUNT HANNAH, R._

A. H. (_going to MRS. L._). Is this stockin’ goin’ to be large enough for Calup?

MRS. LELAND (_examining stocking_). I guess so. It is larger than the last pair.

CAL. Aunt Hannah thinks my understanding is increasing pretty fast.

A. H. (_bluntly_). It’s a pity ’taint your politeness instid o’ your feet that’s agrowin’.

MRS. L. (_looking up_). Take another chair, Caleb, and let your aunt have the rocking-chair.

CAL. (_rising and taking another chair_). Of course—age before good looks.

A. H. (_sinking down into rocking-chair_). In my day, children warn’t allowed to make fun of their relations.

MRS. L. Caleb doesn’t mean anything, Aunt Hannah, but he ought not to speak so.

A. H. (_severely_). P’r’aps he don’t. This aint the fust time he’s been sassy to me.

CAL. Well, why can’t you be jolly, like other folks? I have to make fun so’s to make up for your lookin’ an’ talkin’ so dismal.

A. H. (_sighing_). Well, I shan’t always be here to trouble you with my looks. When I’m gone, maybe you’ll wish you hadn’t laughed at me as you have. (_Bell rings._)

CAL. (_eagerly_). There’s the door-bell. Shall I go, mother?

MRS. L. Yes, for I must go upstairs to get some pieces to mend this coat with.

(_Exit_, R.)

(_CAL. goes out, L., and immediately returns with a letter. He pretends to be studying the address._)

CAL. M-m-iss Lel-land.

A. H. Calup, that letter’s for me. Give it to me this minute.

CAL. (_holding it behind him_). It aint a letter; it’s a valentine. It’s got all sorts of pretty figures on the envelope. Promise, Aunt Hannah, that you’ll let me see the inside of it, and I’ll give it to you right off.

A. H. (_rising, and laying knitting on the table_). I shan’t make any promises. Give me that letter, Calup. (_CAL. runs round stage with letter. His aunt, running after him, tries in vain to catch him._)

MRS. L. (_from outside_). Ca-leb! Ca-leb!

CAL. (_darting across the room in a tantalizing way, lays letter on the table_). By the time you get it read, Aunt Hannah, I’ll be back all ready to see it.

(_Exit, R._)

A. H. (_takes letter eagerly, and sits down, L. C._). It is a valentine, as sure as I’m alive. Who could have sent it? (_Reads._)

“My dearest One: This is St. Valentine’s, the day when every person is privileged to write tender epistles to their loved ones. So I have seated myself to write to you. I did think of asking you a question which my past attentions have, no doubt, led you to expect. But, on second thoughts, I have concluded to call on you and ask the question in person. I am sure you will have no difficulty in recognizing

“YOUR DEVOTED VALENTINE.”

A. H. (_laying valentine on table, sits back in chair, clasps her hands together, rocking, and apparently meditating_). Well, there’s a perspective proposal, and I’m sure it couldn’t come from anybody but Obadiah Rakestraw. His mother’s just died, and he used to go to singing school with me when I was a girl (_complacently_), and he’ll be here to-night. I guess I’ll go and fix up a little, as long as he’s sent me word he’s coming.

(_Exit A. H., R. Enter CARRIE by same door._)

CAR. (_soliloquizing_). Oh, dear, how unhappy I am! it is six months since Herbert went away, and I know it was because he thought I liked that popinjay Adolphus. Of course, he doesn’t know that it was nothing but a flirtation, and that I couldn’t endure the sight of Adolphus afterwards. I didn’t think Herbert would have gone off so suddenly, without even writing me a note to say he was going. Six months ago, and I’ve been so miserable all this weary time! (_Suddenly sees the letter._) What’s this, a valentine, addressed to Miss Leland? Why, that’s my name, and, of course, I have a right to read it. (_Opens it, and notices contents._) Yes, it was intended for me, and is in Herbert’s handwriting (_joyfully_), and he is to be here this evening! But how came it opened? (_With sudden thought._) It must be that Aunt Hannah has opened and read it, thinking it was intended for her. I guess I’ll place the letter where I found it (_lays it down_), and leave the room till the time comes for Herbert to arrive.

(_Exit CARRIE, L., and enter CALEB, R._)

CAL. Well, that’s pretty treatment, for Aunt Hannah to go off when I told her partic’larly I was coming right back; and most likely she has carried the valentine with her. (_Looking round, his gaze falls on the letter._) No, she hasn’t, either. By George! she was quite good, for her. (_Takes letter, which he opens and reads. Looks up with ludicrous expression._) So Aunt Hannah has really got a beau! Who can he be? I guess he don’t know her as well as some folks do. Let’s see (_Consulting the letter._) He’s coming here to-night to ask her that question. It’ll be worth a great deal to see anybody making love to Aunt Hannah. How can I manage to be round to see how it’s done? (_Looks around._) Oh, this is just the thing. (_Goes behind a curtain, which he draws, thereby concealing himself. A. H., dressed in black silk and wearing a gay headdress, enters, R._)

A. H. (_taking letter, which she puts in her pocket_). Well, there, I was rather ventur’som in leaving this valentine on the table. It’s a wonder that Calup didn’t come in an’ get hold of it. If he had, I’d never have heard the last of it. (_A knock at the door, L. A. H. opens it, and ushers in OBADIAH RAKESTRAW._)

A. H. Good evening, Mr. Rakestraw.

OBADIAH RAKESTRAW. Good-evening, Miss Leland. So you’re all alone this evening. (_They sit down with their backs to CALEB’S place of concealment._)

A. H. Yes, I happen to be just now, but I suppose the rest of the folks will be in soon. (_Aside._) I wonder if he won’t take the hint.

CAL. (_aside._) Oh, my! aint she sly?

O. R. I thought I’d just come in and make a neighborly call this evening.

A. H. Just so. I’m glad the spirit took ye. It be kind o’ lonesome for you at home.

O. R. Wall, ’tis so sometimes.

A. H. Ye ought to get married.

O. R. I’m afraid nobody’d have me.

A. H. Oh, you’re too shy. There’s nothin’ like tryin’. To-night is St. Valentine’s, and there aint no time like the present. All ye’ve got to do is jest ask the question. I’ll warrant you’ll get a favorable answer.

CAL. (_aside_). Don’t she drive business?

O. R. Wall, I’ve a good mind to take your advice. As you say, ’tis kind o’ lonesome, an’ I can’t more’n get refused (_rising_); so I’ll jest go over an’ ask Hitty Trumbull if she’ll marry me.

A. H. (_indignantly, rising_). Mehitable Trumbull! You don’t mean you’re going to offer yourself to her.

O. R. That’s jest what I mean.

A. H. Well, it’s downright dishonorable treatment, after the letter you sent me to-day.

O. R. (_surprised_). I haven’t sent you any letter.

A. H. (_taking it from pocket_). Didn’t you write that valentine?

O. R. (_glancing over it_). I never saw it before; and, between you and me, I don’t think it was intended for you.

A. H. Do you mean to insult me by saying I open other folks’ letters?

O. R. Not exactly, but I think this was written to your niece. It aint the kind o’ valentine one would be likely to send to a person of your age.

A. H. (_in a high tone_). You mean to twit me about my age, do you? I’ll just let you know that I’m six years younger than Mehitable Trumbull. But I won’t listen to any more of your insultin’ remarks; so just leave this house, or I’ll call somebody to help you.

O. R. It’s lucky I didn’t offer to marry you, as you asked me to. I see your temper hasn’t improved any since we used to go to singing-school together.

(_Exit O. R., L. A. H., almost frantic, paces back and forth._)

A. H. The villain! to treat me so. But it’s lucky none of the folks know anything about it. I must change my dress before any of them come in.

(_Exit A. H., R._)

CAL. (_coming forward_). Wasn’t that rich? To think of Aunt Hannah, who “wouldn’t marry the best man living,” offering herself, and then, after all, that her love should be refused. (_Voices outside._) But who’s that? Perhaps, she’s coming back again. She mustn’t find me here. (_Hides behind the curtain. Enter HERBERT and CARRIE, talking earnestly._)

CAR. It was only by accident that I happened to see your letter at all. Aunt Hannah received and read it, and thought it was sent to her.

H. Who could she have supposed sent it?

CAR. I don’t know, I’m sure.

CAL. (_peeping out, aside_). I know all about it.

H. But you haven’t answered the question it contained.

CAR. (_demurely_). Did it contain one? I thought the note said you intended to ask a question; but, as you didn’t do so, I supposed you’d changed your mind.

H. You needn’t pretend ignorance. I can’t propose with the same grace that Adolphus did, but you can’t help knowing that I meant to ask you to marry me. (_Taking her hand._) Will you be my wife, Carrie?

CAR. (_archly_). I suppose it wouldn’t do to say anything but “Yes,” especially as, if I refuse, I couldn’t return your letter, since Aunt Hannah has taken possession of it.

H. I shouldn’t be satisfied with any other answer. Now, let’s go and tell your mother about it, and then we’ll set the wedding day.

(_Exeunt, arm in arm._)

CAL. (_coming forward_). Well that was a little addition I didn’t expect. I’ve always wondered how folks popped the question, but I’ve found out all about it, and now I can do it like a book. I guess I’ll go down and see ’Lizy Blake before I forget how it’s done. If she says “Yes” we’ll have a loaf of wedding-cake as big as our new school-house. (_With sudden thought_) I don’t know though, but I ought to write a valentine, and send to her, first, to let her know I’m coming. That’s the way Herbert did. But then, just as likely as not, her aunt Lizy’d get it, thinking ’twas for her. She’s cross-eyed, an’ wears false hair an’ store teeth, an’ I couldn’t have her on my hands. No, I guess I’ll go right down, an’ do my sparkin’ in good style, an’ wind up by askin’ ’Lizy if _I_ shan’t be her Valentine.

(_Exit L. Curtain falls._)

MR. BLISS’ VISION.

CHARACTERS.

MR. HIRAM BLISS, A Wealthy Bachelor. DICK WELLINGTON, His Nephew and Prospective Heir. MRS. MARIAN PAYNE, A Widow. SERVANT.