SCENE III.—_MRS. SMITH’S sitting-room. MRS. S. present, C.

MRS. S. (_soliloquizing_). I don’t see where Mr. Smith can be. It is seldom he is out so late. (_Calls the servant, who is passing the door._) Bridget!

B. (_enters, R._). Yes, mum.

MRS. S. Did Mr. Smith say where he was going when he left home?

B. No, mum. He axed me “was you out,” and I told him you had gone into Mrs. Clarke’s for a few minutes. He said it was no matter; he only wanted to know had you mended the pocket of his weskit.

MRS. S. I entirety forgot it. Just pass it from the hall-closet, Bridget, and I will mend it at once. It will serve to pass the time away.

(_Exit B., R._)

B. (_enters, R._). Here it is, mum (_passes vest to MRS. S._). An’ I think I’ll be goin’ upstairs, if ye don’t want me any more. It’s gettin’ late.

MRS. S. Very well, Bridget. I believe that is all I need.

(_Exit BRIDGET, R._)

MRS. S. I think it was the pocket on the right side that needed mending. (_Turns pocket inside out._) What is this? (_Picks up a letter in a small envelope, directed in a lady’s hand._) It cannot be a letter from his sister. I must open it. (_Unfolds the letter and reads_):—

“DEAREST JOHN,—It is a long time since the sight of your face has gladdened my heart. Cannot you call on me this, evening? I will refuse myself to every one else. Remember I have not seen you for a whole week. Notwithstanding your protestations of devotion to me, I fear you are too attentive to your wife, and you know she does not appreciate your love as I do. Do not fail to come. If it is necessary to make any excuses, say that you are obliged to be away on business. I count the moments till we meet.

“LILLIAN PERCIVAL.”

MRS. S. (_bitterly_). Is it possible that John has deceived me, and is carrying on an intrigue with such a woman as that?—I cannot believe it,—and yet it must be so. (_Hears sound of a latch-key,—listens._) That is his step now. (_Puts letter back in another pocket of vest, and begins to sew._)

MR. S. (_enters, L._). What? Amanda—up yet. I expected to find you asleep. Don’t trouble yourself with mending that vest to-night. I have several others.

MRS. S. (_coldly_). Where have you been to-night, John?

MR. S. I was out on business.

MRS. S. It must have been important business to keep you out till this hour.

MR. S. To tell the truth it was so. But it isn’t a matter you would be likely to understand.

MRS. S. I understand it only too well. (_Passes letter to him._) Who wrote that letter? (_Eyes him sharply._)

MR. S. (_bursting into a laugh_). I understand it all now,—you’ve read that letter, and are jealous. Confess, now, that that’s the case. But I didn’t suppose you’d be so ridiculous.

MRS. S. (_bridling_). Ridiculous indeed! When one’s husband receives such letters as that, it’s about time for his wife to inquire into the matter.

MR. S. I received the letter this morning, but, satisfied that it was written to some other John Smith, I thrust it hastily into my pocket, not dreaming that it would stir up such a breeze as this.

MRS. S. I wish, John, that you would have your name changed.

MR. S. That is what I am intending to do. At the next session of the Legislature, I have determined to apply for a change of name. I believe there are more rascals by the name of Smith than any other one name in the world. And if there is any villain who is brought before the police, he is sure to give his name as John Smith. I don’t care what the new name is,—Snooks, Jenkins, or Tubbs,—there isn’t one of them that would bring a man into trouble half as soon, as to be called plain John Smith.

(_Curtain falls._)

AUNT RACHEL’S FRIGHT.

CHARACTERS.

MR. CAMPBELL, A Returned Traveller. MR. LEWIS, The Head of the Family. MRS. LEWIS, His Wife. AGNES, ⎫ PHILIP, ⎭ Their Children. MISS RACHEL, A Spinster Sister of Mr. L. SERVANT.