SCENE III.—_The same. MRS. GRANBY, R., and CLARA, L., present.

C. Doesn’t it seem a great relief to have Aunt Patience gone?

MRS. G. I must say that it does. I was constantly anxious for fear she would learn our real feelings, though I flatter myself we concealed them quite carefully.

C. I don’t believe she suspected at all that we were glad her visit was over. Deaf people are most always obtuse.

MRS. G. I hope it may prove so, for her money would be a great help to us. In fact, I don’t see how we can get along without it.

C. It would be very convenient if she would let us have an instalment of a few thousands soon—before my marriage, for instance.

MRS. G. Yes, in that case we could afford to send to Paris for your trousseau. But has the time for the wedding been fixed?

C. Yes; Ernest wishes it to take place in June.

MRS. G. I spoke of your marriage as liable to take place soon, and hoped Aunt Patience would take the hint; but she didn’t seem to.

C. What reply did she make?

MRS. G. She said she hadn’t anything special against Mr. Montgomery, but that _she_ would never think of choosing _him_ for a husband.

C. Perhaps he reciprocates her feelings. I don’t think it would be a suitable match myself.

MRS. G. (_smiling_). Being an interested party, perhaps you are not a suitable judge.

(_SERVANT enters, R., bearing a letter, which she passes to MRS. G._)

MRS. G. (_surprised_). A letter from Aunt Patience, as I live!

SERVANT. Yes, ma’am, and there’s a box downstairs, with one end of the old lady’s ear-trumpet sticking out of it.

MRS. G. Very well, you may let it remain there for the present.

(_Exit SERVANT, R._)

C. (_clasping her hands, while an expression of horror overspreads her face_). Don’t say Aunt Patience is coming back again. I certainly think I couldn’t survive such an event.

MRS. G. (_who has read the letter—quite soberly_). It is worse than that.

C. Worse! I don’t know of anything that could be worse than another visit from Aunt Patience.

MRS. G. Very well—read the letter and satisfy yourself.

C. (_Taking the letter, which she reads aloud:_)

“NIECE ELVIRA: Thinking you might be anxious to hear from me, I write to say that I reached home safely. But since my arrival I have had an attack of rheumatic fever. Therefore, feeling that life is uncertain, yesterday I made my will. Before visiting you I had decided to leave my property to you; but I changed my mind, and have concluded to leave it to the Home for Aged Women, a charitable institution, where it will, I hope, do a great deal of good.

“I shall not visit you again. It would be too much of a tax on you to ask you to put up with my odd ways. As you remarked to Clara when I came that you would be delighted to have me go, this information will doubtless be pleasing to you. Besides, I have a presentiment that I shall not live long, notwithstanding Clara’s fears to the contrary.

“Although deaf as an adder when I came to visit you, my hearing has been wonderfully restored, so that I can now dispense with my ear-trumpet. I therefore send it to you, hoping it may do you as good service as it did me, in showing me for what I was valued most.

“AUNT PATIENCE.”

(_MRS. G. and CLARA look blankly at each other._)

MRS. G. So it seems we are not to have any of Aunt Patience’s money after all.

C. (_indignantly_). It’s a real mean thing for any one to be so deceitful—going round pretending to be deaf. I’m glad she isn’t coming here again. I couldn’t endure the sight of her.

SERV. (_entering, R._). Here’s a note that Mr. Montgomery left for you.

C. (_surprised_). Has he been here?

SERV. Yes, he came just after the expressman brought the box.

C. But why didn’t he stop?

S. He heard you reading the letter, and he said he couldn’t stop but a moment; a message would do just as well as seeing you. So he wrote this note in the drawing-room, and asked me to give it to you. (_CLARA gazes at the note. SERVANT goes out, R._)

MRS. G. Why don’t you read your note?

C. I am so surprised. (_Unfolds the paper—reads aloud:_)

“MISS CLARA GRANBY: I have received an appointment which will carry me to India, and I am to sail for that place this afternoon. I called to bid you good-by, but finding you engaged, and being myself in great haste, I make my adieu on paper. As I may be gone for a long time, perhaps a number of years, I deem it my duty to release you from your engagement.

“ERNEST MONTGOMERY.”

MRS. G. What does it mean?

C. (_contemptuously_). It means that he overheard enough of Aunt Patience’s letter to know that we are not to have any of her property; so he has magnanimously released me from my engagement.

MRS. G. But what are you going to do about it?

C. Do? I don’t know as there is anything to be done. In fact, my present feelings of indifference towards him show that my affections were not involved, and I am well satisfied to have him leave me as he has done. As to Aunt Patience, I guess we can get along without any of her money. I have several accomplishments that can be turned to account if necessity requires it.

MRS. G. (_with motherly solicitude, and looking at the matter from a practical point of view_). But young ladies who earn their own living are considered strong-minded, and never get married. I couldn’t bear to have you an old maid.

C. (_calmly_). Well, I don’t know as that would be a terrible fate. It would be a more independent life than marriage would give me. On the whole, I think I shall decide to live a single life. (_Smiling._) Still, as an old lady of eighty once said: “I’ve made up my mind not to get married, and I don’t expect to; but if the Lord should see fit to send me a good husband, I should try to be resigned.”

(_Curtain falls._)

THE GHOSTLY VISITATION.

CHARACTERS.

MRS. FLORA WILLIS, A Young Widow. MRS. LAWRENCE, Her Mother. ALFRED PERCIVAL, Flora’s Suitor.