by Unknown
COSENS. Miss Goodwillie, you really go too far.
LUCY (to MISS GOODWILLIE). Have you finished?
MISS GOODWILLIE. For the present.
LUCY. And you won’t withdraw those words?
MISS GOODWILLIE. No!
LUCY. I give you one last chance. (Takes stage.) You know that I have never encouraged the Professor. In your heart you are afraid that had I cared to do so, I could be engaged to him at this moment. You know that since I came here I have been treated as a pariah; yes, by all of you, from the Dowager, who patronises me, and your Lady Gilding and her husband, who call me by my surname, down to your brother, whose belief that no one could love Lucy White, even while he does it, is the greatest insult of all.
COSENS (to miss goodwillie). Be just to her, my friend.
LUCY. All this you know to be true, and still have you no pity for me nor for the position I am in through no fault of my own?
MISS GOODWILLIE. None!
LUCY. Very well, then I’ll have none for you. The great desire of your life has been to keep your brother single. To have no one come between his love for you and your selfish love for him, and I — I have respected that desire — but now I will do so no longer.
MISS GOODWILLIE. Hoity-toity, Miss. I am not afraid of you.
COSENS. Miss White, I am not your enemy. If you tell me that you truly love Tom —
LUCY. Would you believe my word?
COSENS. I may be a fool but — yes, I would. Do you?
LUCY (after hesitation). What has he done to deserve my love? (Exit.)
COSENS. She does care for him. Miss Goodwillie, if you don’t mind I will beat a retreat to the cottage.
MISS GOODWILLIE. Why?
COSENS. For one reason, I see the Dowager coming. By the way, is she seeing much of the Professor?
MISS GOODWILLIE. I fling them as much together as I can — to keep him away from Miss White.
COSENS. Oho! Is that wise?
MISS GOODWILLIE. I am not afraid of her.
COSENS. H’m! Well, Miss White seems to have challenged the field, so I should like to get out of it.
MISS GOODWILLIE. She alarms you?
COSENS. Mortally. When it comes to Lucy White versus the field, I feel sure that Lucy White will win.
MISS GOODWILLIE. YOU think so?
COSENS. I do, and what is more, excuse me, I am inclined to think that it will serve the field jolly well right.
(Exit.)
(DOWAGER enters as he is going. She is humming gaily, waggles hand to him in high spirits, evidently meaning that all is going well. He responds and exits, amused.
MISS GOODWILLIE is picking up PROFESSOR’S rod and creel.)
MISS GOODWILLIE. YOU seem to be in high spirits.
DOWAGER. I am! I don’t know why. Perhaps just because it’s such a beautiful world.
MISS GOODWILLIE. I can’t say it is striking me in that light. By the way, I hope you are to take Tom off to lunch.
DOWAGER. I shall be only too delighted.
(Exit MISS GOODWILLIE. DOWAGER kisses hand after her, hums, skips about gaily, looks about her and calls.)
DOWAGER. Lucykins!
(Enter LUCY.)
What do you think, Lucy, Miss Goodwillie has asked me to invite Thomas to lunch. She is evidently on my side.
(DOWAGER seizes her and dances with her gaily.)
Do you know why I am so fond of you to-day, you quaint, simple Whitey?
LUCY. Perhaps it’s because you want me to do something for you.
DOWAGER. Fancy your guessing. It is this! I want you to keep every one away from this part of the field for the next half-hour —
LUCY. Except the Professor?
DOWAGER. Right again!
LUCY. It is so good of you to let me help you.
(Enter PETE at back gathering out corn.)
DOWAGER. Oh, there are heaps of things I mean to let you do for me besides that.
LUCY. Thank you.
DOWAGER. I expect the Prof — (Sees PETE) Go away, man.
PETE. I have Sir George’s orders.
DOWAGER. Most provoking!
LUCY (to PETE). Pete, why haven’t you asked Effie to marry you?
PETE. Because there’s no hurry.
LUCY. There is a hurry, unless you want Henders to have her.
PETE. What’s that? What do you mean?
LUCY. Do you see the pink figure over there? (Pointing.)
PETE. Ay, it’s Effie.
LUCY. And a man hurrying towards her — there!
PETE. No!
LUCY. You do, Lady Gilding?
DOWAGER. Distinctly.
LUCY. Well, that is Henders, and he’s going straight to propose to her.
PETE. What’s to be done?
LUCY. I know what I’d do if I were you.
PETE. What?
LUCY. I’d run along the wood on this side and get to Effie before him.
PETE. I will. (He runs off.)
DOWAGER. Clever! Is it true about Henders?
LUCY. No, but I want to help Effie to a husband.
DOWAGER. She would have preferred Henders.
LUCY. Are you sure of that?
DOWAGER. She told me so.
LUCY. Then I won’t let Pete get her. (Turns and calls off)
Henders!
DOWAGER. What does it matter? She will be quite satisfied with Pete.
LUCY. She is a dear girl and she has been kind to me. (Calls)
Henders!
(Enter henders with sickle.)
Look at Pete!
HENDERS. What’s he up to?
LUCY. He’s off to propose to Effie.
HENDERS. Wh — at!
(Throws down sickle and runs off. DOWAGER and LUCY laugh heartily.)
LUCY. Now it is a race for a wife. (Sits on stook.)
DOWAGER. Yes, and mine is to be a swoon for a husband.
LUCY. A swoon?
DOWAGER. Yes, listen — it’s lovely. A little while ago I sent a letter to the Professor by Effie asking him to meet me here at two o’clock, as I had something very particular to say to him.
LUCY. Meaning, of course, that you hope to get him to say something very particular to you.
DOWAGER. Exactly!
LUCY (curiously). Tell me, do you really care for him?
DOWAGER. I shouldn’t wonder. And I assure you I mean to make him very happy. Somebody once said to me that I was the one woman in the world for the Professor; I forget who it was — perhaps it was myself — but that doesn’t matter, and obviously Miss Goodwillie is quite favourable.
LUCY. You don’t really think him in love with you, do you?
DOWAGER. Not with my hand on my heart, Lucy. Still, what else can be making him so gay and sportive?
LUCY. Don’t you think it just possible that there might be some other woman?
DOWAGER. YOU naughty! He never sees any other woman.
LUCY. After all, there’s me.
DOWAGER. YOU? You droll thing. Naturally he sees you and Effie. But I mean a lady.
LUCY. Ah, yes.
DOWAGER. Of course, you are a lady in a sense.
LUCY. No, no! (Sits on stook.)
DOWAGER. Yes, in a sense. I am a faithful radical. Now listen and learn. The great difficulty with men is not to make them fall in love with you, but to get them to propose. So I have devised such a simple little scheme for helping the Professor out of his difficulty.
LUCY. How thoughtful of you....
DOWAGER. It is this. When he arrives here, he will find me in a swoon. This is where I intend to faint. Do you see the result?
LUCY. Not quite.
DOWAGER. Ah, you are obtuse. The Professor sees that I’ve fainted. His first impulse is to rush to the river for water — but he has nothing to carry it in.
LUCY. His hat!
DOWAGER. Oh, he is too stupid to think of that.
LUCY. This tin pan. (Pointing to one.)
DOWAGER. Ah! (Hides it in rick.)
That settles the tin pan! In a moment he sees that he must carry me to the river; he lifts me up gently, he hurries off with his lovely burden and — but there is no more to be said, for the woman who is in a man’s arms and can’t draw a proposal out of him, is — well, she’s no true helpmate.
LUCY. What a sweetly simple scheme.
DOWAGER. Isn’t it? And quite justifiable. I feel as if I were a lovely little cupid, standing on one toe and firing an arrow into the dense one’s breast. (She realises the picture.)
Whitey, you may almost congratulate me already.
LUCY. I do.
DOWAGER. Do you think I should lie this way — or this way? (Tries.) Ugh! (Starting up.)
LUCY. What is it?
DOWAGER. Spiders!
LUCY. You should have a rug to faint on.
DOWAGER. A capital idea. There are some near the gate.
I’ll get one. Lucy, if the Professor comes before his time, keep him away from this spot till I return.
LUCY. Very well.
DOWAGER (going). How cleverly you managed Henders and Pete. It is simply the best joke I know of.
LUCY. Oh, I could show you a much better joke than that.
DOWAGER. You clever little thing. You shall!
(The DOWAGER goes.)
LUCY (looking after her). I will.
(PROFESSOR is heard calling ‘LADY GILDING.’) I will!
(lucy faints, as dowager has shown her, on stook.
professor comes on looking for dowager. He finds lucy lying there and is anguished.)
PROFESSOR. Miss Lucy! Fainted! Hie, hie, help! Oh, Miss Lucy! Water! The river! Look up, Miss Lucy. Dear Miss Lucy!
(He carries her off. EFFIE enters moodily knitting.
PETE rushes on breathlessly.)
PETE. Effie!
EFFIE. Pete — you ‘re out of breath.
PETE. Effie, quick — will you?
EFFIE. Will I what?
PETE (jumps, looking for HENDERS). Will you take me, Effie?
EFFIE. Do you mean, will I marry you?
PETE. Ay! Will you?
EFFIE. Where’s Henders?
PETE. I’ve no idea. Will you?
EFFIE. Ay, I will.
PETE. I’ve won! (Mops brow.)
EFFIE (perhaps expecting endearments). Is that all, Pete?
PETE (heavy-witted). All? What more could there be?
EFFIE. That’s no for a lassie to say. (Pointedly) You’ve crumpled me terrible.
PETE. Me? I never touched you!
EFFIE. So you didna. I’ll always mind that about you, Pete. (She is going.)
PETE. Where are you going, Effie?
EFFIE. To tell everybody I’m promised to you.
PETE. Is that necessary? (Following her.)
EFFIE. Ay, it’ll make me feel surer o’ you. Good day to you, Pete.
(Exit EFFIE. He stares after her and mops his brow. Enter HENDERS hurriedly.)
HENDERS. Whaur’s Effie?
PETE. You ‘re ower late, my man.
HENDERS. She’s yours?
PETE. She’s mine.
HENDERS. Dagont! (Sits on sheaf.)
PETE. You ‘re michty jelly-ous o’ me, Henders!
HENDERS. Jelly-ous! Not me.
PETE. What? Think shame to pretend.
HENDERS. Poor Pete.
PETE. Marriage is an honourable estate.
HENDERS. It’s michty risky.
PETE. It is risky. Once they have you, they have you. There’s no way out, no, man, no! But — but Effie’s a jewel.
HENDERS. It’s a good thing you think so. Willium Todd thought that about Christy Lunan, but whaur is Willium now?
PETE. They say she makes him wander about the house in his stocking soles in case his boots messes the floor.
HENDERS. Poor Willium, I liked him fine.
PETE. You speak as if he was dead.
HENDERS. He’s married.
PETE. Effie’s a beauty, Henders.
HENDERS. It doesna wear.
PETE. I ken her weel.
HENDERS. I hope you’ll never ken her better.
PETE. Henders, you terrify me. Ah, you wanted her yoursel’.
HENDERS. Not me!
PETE. But you did. It was hearing you were off to put it to her that made me do’t.
HENDERS. You’ve made an awful mistake, Pete. I wasna after Effie. I was after you to warn you against being in a hurry. You ‘re so fearful rash when your blood’s up.
PETE. I am, woe ‘s me, I’m lost. Henders, I’m away to ask Effie to let me off.
HENDERS. Pete, did you kiss her?
PETE. NO!
HENDERS. What for no?
PETE. I never thoucht o’t.
(Exit PETE, while HENDERS looks contemptuously after him and shakes his fist and repeatedly grins, as if he saw a good scheme. Enter DOWAGER, carrying rug. She is in high spirits.)
DOWAGER. What are you grinning at, man? Go away and grin somewhere else.
HENDERS. The very thing I was thinking of doing, your ladyship. He never thought of it!
DOWAGER. What?
HENDERS. That’s what he said. He never thought of it.
(When henders has gone, dowager arranges rug cosily, in high spirits — looks about and evidently sees professor coming — lies down on rug in affected swoon. Enter professor excitedly and miss goodwillie simultaneously, and not seeing dowager, who is hidden by stook.)
PROFESSOR. Agnes!
MISS GOODWILLIE. Tom, I’ve been looking for you every —
PROFESSOR. Agnes, Agnes, Dick was right.
MISS GOOD WILLIE. In what?
PROFESSOR. I am in love.
MISS GOODWILLIE. Tom!
PROFESSOR. With Miss Lucy.
(DOWAGER listens horrified.)
MISS GOODWILLIE. Oh, Tom!
PROFESSOR. I found her lying over there a few moments ago. She had fainted.
(Horror of DOWAGER.) I called for help — no one heard me. I thought of water — I had nothing to bring it in, so I lifted her in my arms and carried her to the riverside. Agnes, I no sooner had her in my arms than I realised that I loved her.
(DOWAGER crawls out of sight in stook.)
MISS GOODWILLIE. Where is she now?
PROFESSOR. When she came to herself she ran away from me.
MISS GOODWILLIE. Tom, have you asked her to marry you?
PROFESSOR. I had no time. Where are you going, Agnes?
MISS GOODWILLIE. After her!
PROFESSOR. To plead for me. Agnes, you dear sister, you are going to plead for me.
(MISS GOODWILLIE goes, PROFESSOR excitedly follows her and DOWAGER peeps out from stook a picture of comic woe.)
ACT III
EXTERIOR of Professor’s cottage. Moonlight. The time is eight o’clock p m. When the curtain rises the windows are opened but the room is not lit up. Piano is being played in an amateur way inside. Effie comes out of gate carrying two empty water-pails. She disappears. Pete enters stealthily and sees her.
PETE. Effie!
(She does not look routid. He follows her. Enter DR.
YELLOWLEES. He knocks at door and the music ceases.
YELLOWLEES enters house. Enter SIR GEORGE, LADY GILDING, and DOWAGER. They are in evening dress with wraps.)
SIR GEORGE. Then what I have to tell the Professor and Miss Goodwillie is this: that Miss White’s swoon was a deliberate sham.
LADY GILDING. As mamma can testify, for she saw it.
