Comediettas and Farces

FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED.

A Comedietta, in One Act.

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DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

SCENE.—Mrs. Templeton’s Villa at Roehampton.

Handsomely furnished apartments; large French window at C. looking on a garden. Doors R. H. and L. H. At R. H. a table, on which is an open album; at L. C. another table covered with papers, etc.; table, sofa, chairs, etc.

Enter MRS. TEMPLETON at C., followed by COLONEL CHALLENGER.

COL. Cousin Martha, you are wrong, wrong, wrong! a thousand times wrong!

MRS. T. Cousin Samuel, I’m right, right, right! ten thousand times right!

COL. (aside). Obstinate old woman!

MRS. T. (aside). Pig-headed old man!

COL. What possible reason can you have for setting your face against Josephine’s getting married? It’s downright tyranny! Call yourself an aunt, indeed!

MRS. T. My reason is a very simple one. Her elder sister, Julia, must find a husband first.

COL. First come, first served—eh? Really, my dear Martha, I must say that, for a sensible woman, you are by many degrees the most prejudiced, the most self-willed, the most—

MRS. T. Of course I am! But you know very well that when I once do make up my mind to anything—

COL. You stick to it like a fly to a “catch-’em-alive-oh.”

MRS. T. I don’t choose that Julia should suffer what I did! I had a sister, Dorothy Jane, four years my junior, who married before I did—do you think that was pleasant?—who supplied me with a sprinkling of nephews and nieces before I had a husband—do you think that was pleasant?—who gave garden-parties, balls, concerts, to which all the world flocked, and surrounded her with flattery, adulation, while I was neglected, extinguished, regularly snuffed out. Do you think that was pleasant? Well, it is this humiliation that I am determined to spare Julia.

COL. Well, you didn’t lose much by waiting. I’m sure Tom Templeton was as good a creature as ever breathed—didn’t live long, poor fellow, but cut up remarkably well considering.

MRS. T. Leaving his two nieces, his brother’s children, to my charge, with ten thousand pounds each.

COL. As a wedding portion, which, I must say, you didn’t seem in a hurry to part with.

MRS. T. You know my conditions. You have only to find a husband for Julia.

COL. I? When she refused half the good-looking fellows within ten miles round! If she does mean to marry, she takes her time about it, that I will say; it never seems to occur to her that she’s keeping her poor sister out in the cold!

MRS. T. You may be mistaken, cousin. I spoke to Julia only yesterday, and she expressed herself in terms which convinced me that, were she to receive a suitable offer—

COL. She’d accept it? Well, I’m glad she’s coming to her senses at last; and I shall go away all the more comfortable in my mind.

MRS. T. Go away?

COL. Yes. I’m off back again to Cheltenham. Touch of gout—liver queer; besides, my work here is done. Your husband’s affairs, which I confess appeared to me at first sight to be in a state of hopeless confusion, are now clearly and satisfactorily arranged, thanks to my young colleague, Harry Barton, who, I must say, worked like a nigger over them. By-the-bye, he’s another victim to Miss Julia’s caprice and fastidiousness—she actually snubbed the poor fellow before she’d time even to look at him, much less know him.

MRS. T. Well, you’ll confess he bears his disappointment with becoming resignation (satirically).

COL. Yes, he’s getting used to it, like the eels. He doesn’t see the use of crying over spilt milk. By-the-bye, there’s another matter of five thousand pounds coming to the girls out of the Hampshire property. But Barton will give you all the particulars.

MRS. T. I’m sure, cousin, I feel deeply indebted to you.

COL. Not half as much as you ought to feel to Harry Barton. Hasn’t he been here twice a week for the last month, up to his elbows in leases, loans, mortgages, and the deuce knows what? Oh! here he comes.

Enter HARRY BARTON at C., a roll of papers under his arm, a lawyer’s blue bag in his hand, which he deposits on chair.

BART. (bowing to MRS. TEMPLETON). Your servant, madam. (To COLONEL.) Ah! my dear colonel, I hope you’re well. But perhaps I ought to apologize for entering unannounced. You may be engaged?

MRS. T. Not at all. I am aware, Mr. Barton, how deeply I am in your debt; but now that the business which served as your first introduction here is satisfactorily concluded, pray remember my house is open to you as before (BARTON bows). You will kindly excuse me now—a few orders to give (courtesies and exit L. H.; at the same moment the door at R. H. opens and JOSEPHINE peeps in).

JOSEPHINE. Is the coast clear? (watching MRS. TEMPLETON as she goes out). She’s gone at last (runs in).

BART. (meeting her). Jo, dear Jo (taking her hand, which he is about to kiss).

JOSEPHINE. Wait a minute! (looking after MRS. TEMPLETON). She’s quite disappeared; now you may! (holding out her hand to BARTON, who kisses it). And now (turning to COLONEL), you dear, good, kind old uncle. Uncle is it, or cousin? I never know which.

COL. Don’t you? It’s simple enough. Your mother’s elder brother’s second—never mind. Call me uncle.

JOSEPHINE. Well? Have you spoken to Aunt Martha?

BART. Yes. Have you broken the ice?

COL. Cracked it, that’s all!

JOSEPHINE. And what was the result? Did she consent or not?

BART. Did she say yes or no?

JOSEPHINE. Why don’t you speak? (impatiently).

BART. Why don’t you say something? (ditto).

COL. How the deuce can I, when you won’t let me get in a word edgeways? Well, then, my poor young friends, sorry I’ve no good news for you; the old story over again—Miss Julia stops the way.

BART. And yet Mrs. Templeton’s pressing invitation to me to visit at her house—

COL. Is easily explained. She doesn’t even suspect that your affections have been transferred from her elder to her younger niece.

JOSEPHINE. Then you should have told her—then there would have been an explosion!

COL. Yes, which would have blown Master Harry clean out of the street door! No, no! don’t despair; Julia will find a husband—sooner or later!

JOSEPHINE. Sooner or later? But what am I to do in the mean time?

BART. Yes! what are we to do in the mean time?

JOSEPHINE. I’m sure she’s had plenty of offers; but one was too young—another was too old—one was too rich—another wasn’t rich enough; even poor Harry here, though he followed her about like her shadow, and I’m sure made himself sufficiently ridiculous—even he wasn’t good enough for her ladyship! It’s downright absurd being so particular. I’m sure I wasn’t!

BART. No, dear Jo! you took pity on me at once.

JOSEPHINE. No, not quite at once. I didn’t jump at you. But what—what is to be done?

COL. Have patience!

JOSEPHINE. Patience? Haven’t I been patient for the last five weeks?

BART. Five weeks and three days!

JOSEPHINE. Five weeks and three days! (suddenly). Oh! such an idea! such a capital notion! Listen. Julia must find a husband, or a husband must be found for Julia—that’s a settled point.

COL.	}	(together). Quite so!
BART.

JOSEPHINE. Well, then, as she sets her face against a young one—

COL. Yes; as she sets her face against a young one—

JOSEPHINE. And turns up her nose at a handsome one—

COL. And turns up her nose at a handsome one—

JOSEPHINE. She might find you more to her taste! (to COLONEL).

COL. She might find me more to her— (Seeing JOSEPHINE laughing.) So, Miss Saucy one, you’re poking fun at me, are you? Then you’ll be good enough to find another victim—I mean another admirer, for Miss Julia! Egad, I must make haste and pack up, or I shall lose my train! Come along with me, little one! Good-by, Barton! Keep up your spirits! Recollect you’ve still got me!

JOSEPHINE. And me, Harry. Not yet, but you will!

[Exeunt COLONEL and JOSEPHINE at door R. H.

BART. Dear Josephine! What a contrast to her cold, insensible, apathetic sister! I, who loved her so sincerely, so devotedly, made such a thorough spooney of myself! and was even weak enough to believe I was not quite indifferent to her! I confess I felt hurt—considerably hurt—infernally hurt; but if she flattered herself I should be inconsolable, she never was more mistaken in her life! She little dreamt how soon I should find a cure for my infatuation in the charms of her angelic sister! Dear Josephine! And to think there’s no hope of my calling her mine till we find somebody to call her sister his! By-the-bye, here are a few papers I must look over (seating himself at table and opening papers).

ROYS. (heard without). Very well; take my card to Mrs. Templeton. I’ll wait. I’m in no hurry.

BART. Heyday! who have we here?

Enter BASIL ROYSTON at C.

ROYS. (coming down—seeing BARTON). I beg pardon, sir!

BART. (rising). Sir—I—

ROYS. Be seated, I beg.

BART. Not till you set me the example (pointing to chair—they seat themselves).

ROYS. Like me, sir, you are doubtless waiting to see Mrs. Templeton?

BART. No, sir.

ROYS. Oh! One of the family, perhaps? Possibly a friend?

BART. Yes, sir, a friend. (Aside.) He’s very inquisitive!

ROYS. (looking at album). What charming water-colors—perfect gems!

BART. They are the work of Mrs. Templeton’s elder niece. Are you an artist?

ROYS. No, merely an amateur. And you?

BART. A humble member of the legal profession.

ROYS. A lawyer—eh? (Aside.) By Jove! here’s a chance for me! I’ve half a mind to—he looks the very picture of good-nature, and six and eightpence won’t ruin me! (Aloud.) Might I venture, sir, on so very slight an acquaintance, to solicit your professional opinion? (BARTON bows.) It is rather a delicate subject, a very peculiar subject.

BART. I’m all attention, sir, merely observing that the sooner you begin—

ROYS. The sooner I shall have done. Exactly. Then I’ll come to the point at once. I would ask you whether, in your opinion, a promise of marriage, written under certain circumstances and under certain conditions, must necessarily be binding?

BART. Such conditions being—

ROYS. First and foremost—that the lady should have her head altered!

BART. (astonished). Have her head altered?

ROYS. I mean, have her hair dyed!

BART. Which condition the lady has not complied with?

ROYS. No, sir! It’s as red as ever!

BART. Then, sir, I’ve no hesitation in saying that the promise falls to the ground.

ROYS. Thank you, sir (seizing BARTON’S hand and shaking it—aside and sighing). Poor Sophia!

BART. May I inquire the name of my new client? (smiling).

ROYS. Royston.

BART. The Roystons of Banbury?

ROYS. Yes, Banbury—where the cakes come from.

BART. I was aware that Mrs. Templeton expected you on a matter of business—a certain sum of money, I believe?

ROYS. Yes, coming to the family from some Hampshire property.

BART. I imagined Mr. Royston was a much older person.

ROYS. I see! You mean Jonathan.

BART. Jonathan?

Rots. Yes, my brother—the head of the firm—he’s twenty years my senior! But as he could not spare the time to come, he sent me.

BART. (aside). It’s worth the trial—decidedly worth it! (looking aside at ROYSTON). Young, gentlemanly, sufficiently good-looking, good family! Here goes! (Aloud.) Excuse my candor, but I think I guess your motive in putting the professional question you did just now. You are the writer of the promise of marriage, and you are desirous of contracting another alliance—eh?

ROYS. I don’t care about it, but Jonathan does! (Aside, and sighing again.) Poor Sophia!

BART. Perhaps you have some party in view?

ROYS. No. But I’m on the lookout.

BART. And, no doubt, anxious to succeed?

ROYS. Not particularly—but Jonathan is.

BART. Perhaps that is the object of your visit here?

ROYS. Eh? Is there a marriageable young lady here?

BART. Yes.

ROYS. I should like to see her.

BART. Nothing more easy.

ROYS. What age?

BART. Twenty.

ROYS. Any fortune?

BART. Ten thousand.

ROYS. That’d just suit Jonathan! Pretty?

BART. Charming!

ROYS. That’d just suit me! Egad, suppose I try my luck? I’ve half a mind!

BART. Have a whole one! I’ve a notion you’ll succeed!

ROYS. But I know nobody here!

BART. I beg your pardon! you know me!

ROYS. Eh?

BART. Known me for years (with intention).

ROYS. (suddenly seeing BARTON’S meaning). Of course I have!

BART. Ever since we were children!

ROYS. Babies!

BART. We went to the same school together!

ROYS. Of course we did!

BART. At Tunbridge Wells!

ROYS. Yes, at Bagnigge Wells!

BART. And we have been friends ever since!

ROYS. (enthusiastically). Bosom friends! And you’ll really do all you can to serve me?

BART. Of course I will! (Aside.) And myself at the same time!

ROYS. A thousand thanks, my dear— By-the-bye, what shall I call you?

BART. Harry. And you?

ROYS. Basil (grasping BARTON’S hand). Sophia might scratch your eyes out, but Jonathan will bless you.

BART. Hush! (seeing MRS. TEMPLETON, who enters at L. H.).

MRS. T. (to ROYSTON). Sorry to have kept you waiting, Mr. Royston.

ROYS. I am here, madam, as my brother’s representative.

MRS. T. I am aware of it. Mr. Barton, allow me to introduce to you—

BART. No necessity for it, madam. Basil is an old friend of mine.

ROYS. Yes, madam! I little thought of meeting an old schoolfellow here (shaking BARTON’S hand warmly). Some years ago now—eh, Tom?

BART. (aside to him). Harry!

ROYS. Harry!

MRS. T. So you were school-fellows—eh?

ROYS. Yes, ma’am, at—Bagnigge Wells.

BART. (hastily aside to him). Tunbridge!

ROYS. Of course! Tunbridge!

MRS. T. You must have had some difficulty in recognizing each other?

ROYS. I had—very considerable difficulty, I assure you!

BART. We should have met earlier, no doubt, but for my friend’s lengthened absence in Italy (significantly to ROYSTON).

ROYS. Yes. Ah! charming country—for those who don’t mind the cold! (On a sign from BARTON.) I mean the heat!

MRS. T. (aside and looking at ROYSTON). Really a vastly agreeable young man!

Enter COLONEL at R. H.

COL. So Royston has arrived, has he? (Seeing BASIL.) Heyday! why, this is Basil—his younger brother!

ROYS. At your service, colonel.

MRS. T. You are acquainted, then?

COL. I was intimate with his mother’s family—indeed, I may say I was the means of getting him a nomination to the Blue Coat school.

BART. (aside). This is deuced awkward!

MRS. T. The Blue Coat school? I thought you said Tunbridge Wells?

ROYS. (recollecting). Yes; that was before—I mean after—

COL. (aside and suspiciously). I suspect these young fellows are playing some little game of their own; and, what’s more, I can pretty well guess what it is!

MRS. T. (aside to COLONEL). As Mr. Royston is an entire stranger to me, may I ask you, Cousin Samuel, what is the opinion you have formed of him?

COL. Oh! a very charming young man, indeed! Most respectable family! an ample income already, with great expectations from a couple of aunts and a godmother! A little wild at present, perhaps, but he’ll soon settle down when he’s married! Ah! happy the woman who makes a conquest of such a man! (Aside.) There! now I’m in the conspiracy too!

MRS. T. (to ROYSTON). Your friend Mr. Barton does not leave here till to-morrow; you, I hope, will also defer your departure till then?

BART. (quickly to ROYSTON). Of course you will! (To MRS. T.) Of course he will! (To ROYSTON.) You’ll be only too delighted! (To MRS. T.) He’ll be only too delighted!

MRS. T. Ah! here’s my niece! (going up to meet JULIA, who enters at C.).

ROYS. (seeing JOSEPHINE, who at the same moment enters at R. H.). Look! what a charming creature!

BART. No, no! it isn’t she! it’s the other! Look there! (pointing to JULIA). There’s a figure! there’s a symmetry! Look at those finely-chiselled features!

ROYS. Yes, yes! but still, in my opinion (looking admiringly at JOSEPHINE)—

BART. Your opinion, indeed! Pshaw! what do you know about it?

JOSEPHINE (aside to COLONEL, and pointing to ROYSTON). What! has Harry found somebody already?

MRS. T. Julia, my dear, allow me to present Mr. Royston, an old friend of Mr. Barton’s (JULIA courtesies stiffly to ROYSTON).

BART. (to ROYSTON). There’s a courtesy! that’s what I call a courtesy!

ROYS. Yes! but, as I said before, of the two I prefer (looking at JOSEPHINE)—

BART. You prefer, indeed! Surely I must know better than you! (To JULIA.) My friend Royston, a distinguished amateur of the fine arts, is in raptures with your sketches, Miss Julia. (JULIA courtesies stiffly again.)

JOSEPHINE (to JULIA). Why don’t you thank Mr. Royston, sister?

ROYS. (aside to BARTON). Oh! she’s the sister—eh?

BART. (with pretended indifference). Yes, a little, harmless, insignificant school-girl—

ROYS. Still, I repeat, if I had to choose between them—

BART. Pshaw! my dear fellow, if you only knew what nonsense you’re talking! (Aside.) Zounds! I hope he isn’t going to fall in love with Josephine!

COL. Sorry to interrupt, but my time is precious, and business must be attended to. Mr. Royston, will you step into the dining-room with your papers? Barton, you’ll come too?

JOSEPHINE (hastily aside to BARTON). I understand it all, Harry. A very nice young man, indeed! and likely to stand a good chance. Don’t you think so? Where did you pick him up so soon?

BART. Hush! I’ll explain everything another time.

[COLONEL and MRS. TEMPLETON exeunt at R. H., followed by BARTON and ROYSTON. ROYSTON stops, turns, and makes a profound bow to JOSEPHINE. BARTON pushes him out.

JOSEPHINE (aside). I wonder what she thinks of him? (Aloud.) A very gentlemanly young man, Mr. Royston, don’t you think so, Julia?

JULIA (indifferently). I scarcely looked at him.

JOSEPHINE (aside). That’s not very encouraging! (Aloud.) How do you manage to find so many admirers? I can’t!

JULIA (smiling). Hitherto, perhaps, I may have had the lion’s share of attention, homage, and professed admiration; but your turn will come.

JOSEPHINE. It’s a long time about it! You are so difficult to please. And poor Mr. Royston, I suppose, will be snubbed like the rest!

JULIA (reprovingly). Josephine! surely you don’t imagine—

JOSEPHINE. That there is some attraction for him here? Of course I do! It can’t be Aunt Martha—nor I! I’m only a child! (with affected humility).

JULIA. Josephine, you speak as though you were piqued, vexed—I might almost say envious!

JOSEPHINE. Envious? I? Of what?

JULIA (sighing). Of what, indeed! Ah, dear one, the privileges of an elder sister are not so enviable after all! What is often her lot?—to be constantly exposed to flattery—adulation from the lips of strangers—compelling her to assume an extreme reserve in order to modify the exaggerated and at times indelicate encomiums of relatives and friends. What is the necessary result? Doubt, distrust, suspicion—nay, even prejudice, oftentimes unjust, against those who profess a desire to please! On this impulse I have acted—an impulse dictated by self-respect and a due sense of my own dignity!

JOSEPHINE (aside). What a serious tone! (Aloud.) But just think how cruelly, how unjustly you may have acted. And I’m sure, as for Mr. Royston—

JULIA. Mr. Royston again! Silly child!

JOSEPHINE. Child? Perhaps I could mention a little fact that—that—but I won’t! (Aside.) Good-by to my secret if I did! (Aloud.) Good-by!

JULIA. Are you going to leave me too?

JOSEPHINE. Haven’t I got to write out all the invitations for our ball on the 23d?

JULIA. Your birthday?—true.

JOSEPHINE. Yes; that is the professed reason—but of course it is on your account that it is given.

JULIA (reproachfully). Josephine!

JOSEPHINE. I know a younger sister’s duty, Miss Templeton (makes a low courtesy and exit L. H.).

JULIA. Josephine! sister!—Did she but know how she misjudges me! How heavily I have been punished for that pride, that apparent insensibility, with which she reproaches me! Oh, Harry! Harry! could you but tell how bitterly I have repented! But surely, surely the cruel, wicked indifference with which I treated his affection, his devotion, cannot have entirely destroyed them—some little spark of the old flame must still remain! else why is he so constantly here? Why does he still seem to seek my presence? At any rate, he shall see that I am no heartless coquette; and when this Mr. Royston presents himself, as I’m sure he will (seeing ROYSTON, who enters from R. H.)— I thought so!

ROYS. (aside). She’s alone! She’s decidedly handsome. Yet, as I said before, there’s something about the other that—that— (Aloud, and bowing to JULIA.) Miss Templeton!

JULIA (courtesying). Sir! the business matter in which you are engaged is, I presume, settled?

ROYS. Yes; the signatures alone are required.

JULIA. In that case perhaps I had better— (About to retire.)

ROYS. One moment, I beg! (Aside.) She’s decidedly very handsome! Still—don’t know how it is—but there is certainly something about the other that—that— (Aloud.) Before leaving this house to-morrow, with my new acquaintance—I mean my old friend Barton—

JULIA (quickly). Mr. Barton leaves to-morrow?

ROYS. Yes, alas! I say “alas,” because one day only is now left for me to admire your physical attractions, your mental accomplishments—

JULIA. Oh, sir! Believe me, my sister is far more accomplished than I am.

ROYS. Far be it from me to deny it. Still, from the highly eulogistic terms in which every one speaks of you—your sister among the first—

JULIA. Ah, sir! Dear Josephine is so amiable, so affectionate, so good, so loving, so angelic—

ROYS. (aside). She sticks up for her sister, that I will say! (Aloud.) Still, there are certain attractions which we can all judge of by our own eyes.

JULIA (quickly). And who can possess them to a greater degree than Josephine? Such exquisite grace—such absolute perfection of form and feature—

ROYS. (aside). Her sister again! If we go on at this rate, we sha’n’t get on very fast! (Aloud.) Allow me to be frank with you; my brother Jonathan—but perhaps you’ve never heard of Jonathan?—Jonathan Royston, of Banbury—where the cakes come from—well, he often reproaches me with being what he calls rather wild and fast and flighty—

JULIA. The only fault I find with Josephine, dear child. She is so giddy, so thoughtless, so excitable! What a capital match you’d make! Ha, ha, ha!

ROYS. (aside). That’s a pretty broad hint! (Aloud.) And he—I mean Jonathan—says that the best thing I could do would be to get married!

JULIA. The very conclusion I have come to about Josephine.

ROYS. (aside). It really looks as if she wanted to turn me over to her sister. (Aloud.) And having received the flattering assurance that my pretensions to your hand might possibly not be unsuccessful—

JULIA. From whom, pray? Doubtless from my aunt.

ROYS. Oh no! From my dear old friend, Barton.

JULIA (indignantly). Mr. Barton? He? No, no! I cannot, will not believe it!

ROYS. I’m sure he will not deny it—and see, fortunately, he’s here!

Enter BARTON at door R. H.

BART. Miss Templeton, your presence is required in the drawing-room.

JULIA (very coldly, and seating herself at table). Presently.

BART. (aside to ROYSTON). Well, what news?

ROYS. (aside). All right! At least, if it isn’t this one, it’ll be the other! One of the two!

BART. What do you mean by “the other?”

ROYS. The “little, harmless, insignificant school-girl,” you know!

BART. (aside). Confound the fellow!

ROYS. You first put the notion of marriage into my head, and I won’t leave this house a bachelor; I’ll marry somebody! I leave you together! You’ll plead my cause, won’t you?—and pitch it strong, won’t you? I shall be all anxiety to know the result—because if she won’t have me, I can fall back on the other. Don’t you see? (shaking BARTON’S hand, and runs out at C.).

BART. (aside, and looking at JULIA). To have to plead the cause of another, when, in spite of me, her presence will recall the past, painful, humiliating as it is!

JULIA (with indifference). Your friend has left you, Mr. Barton?

BART. He has, Miss Templeton; but he has left an advocate to intercede with you on his behalf.

JULIA (satirically). A willing and an earnest one, no doubt, who probably has already furnished him with a detailed catalogue of my tastes, habits, pursuits, disposition—

BART. (aside). He’s been blabbing! (Aloud.) Surely he cannot have betrayed my confidence?

JULIA (with suppressed anger). The charge of “betrayal of confidence” should rather be levelled at one who by his intimacy with a family, into which he is admitted on terms of friendship, is enabled to study the characters of its members for the purpose of retailing the result of his observations to others!

BART. I will not affect to misunderstand your reproof. It is true that I spoke of you to Mr. Royston in terms which you fully merit—that I even told him your heart was free.

JULIA. Perfectly, absolutely free! You undertook to be his advocate with such zeal, such earnestness, one might almost imagine you had some personal interest.

BART. And what if I had an interest—a powerful interest?

JULIA (quickly). Indeed?

BART. Yes. And after the somewhat harsh rejection I met with at your hands—which, no doubt, I fully merited—what greater proof can I give of the esteem in which I still hold you than to confide my secret to you?

JULIA (starting). A secret? (Aside.) What can he mean?

BART. That, on the eve of leaving your family, I should feel far less regret could I but indulge in the hope of ever becoming connected with it by a closer tie.

JULIA (aside, and joyfully). Can it be? Has he forgotten—forgiven? Can he still care for me? (Aloud.) But why this silence—this want of confidence in me?

BART. Frankly, because we feared you would oppose our wishes, our hopes.

JULIA (eagerly). Our hopes? We feared?

BART. Yes! She especially.

JULIA. She? Of whom are you speaking? Her name?

BART. Surely I must have mentioned it? Your sister.

JULIA (starting from her chair). Josephine!

BART. Yes; rejected by her elder sister, I sought and found solace and consolation in her goodness and sympathy.

JULIA (with increasing anger). So! Your frequent visits, your constant presence here, apparently so inconsistent with your “wounded feelings” (satirically), are now explained! It was for her! And I was to be kept in ignorance—to fancy, to believe, to hope—

BART. (surprised). Miss Templeton!

JULIA. I now understand this anxiety to dispose of my hand—this crowd of admirers thrown in my way! What mattered my feelings—my happiness? I was an obstacle to be removed! (with increasing excitement).

BART. I implore you—

JULIA (stamping her foot). Silence, sir!

Enter MRS. TEMPLETON hurriedly at R. H.

MRS. T. What is the matter here? Julia! what means this excitement—this agitation? Perhaps you, sir (to BARTON)—

BART. I am as much surprised as yourself, madam! I ventured to confide to Miss Julia my pretensions to the hand of her sister—

MRS. T. (with a scream). What! You had the cruelty, the barbarity to make such an avowal to her elder sister? (advancing upon BARTON, who retreats)—to lacerate her feelings! to wound her pride!

JULIA. Yes, that’s it!—to wound my pride!

BART. But really—

MRS. T. Silence, young man! I remember what my feelings were when my younger sister was married before me. I was choking, sir! suffocating, sir! I turned positively purple! all sorts of colors, sir! And here is a little pert, forward chit, daring to follow her Aunt Dorothy Jane’s example!—but here she comes. (Enter COLONEL from R. H., and JOSEPHINE from L. H.) So, miss (advancing angrily on JOSEPHINE), a pretty account I’ve heard of you! To mix yourself up at your age in a silly romance—a nonsensical love-intrigue—

COL. (interfering). But, my dear Martha—

MRS. T. (turning sharply on him). Hold your tongue, Cousin Samuel!

JOSEPHINE. But, aunt, if you’ll only allow me—

MRS. T. But I won’t allow you! (To JULIA.) Keep up your spirits, poor persecuted victim!

JOSEPHINE. Victim? It seems to me that I’m the victim! Just as I thought I was going to be married and settled! (beginning to sob; COLONEL tries to pacify her).

MRS. T. Married and settled, indeed! A child—a baby like you! (To BARTON.) After what has occurred, sir, you will see that your further presence under this roof—

BART. (bowing). I fully understand, madam!

MRS. T. (to JOSEPHINE). Come, miss, follow me! (JOSEPHINE about to speak.) Not a word! It is for me to speak, as you’ll find I intend to do, and to some purpose. This way! (making JOSEPHINE pass before her; she and JULIA follow her out at R. H.).

COL. Wheugh! here’s a pretty piece of business!

BART. Not satisfied with rejecting me herself, she carries her prejudice, her hate so far as to—

COL. Hate? nonsense! (Suddenly.) By Jove! I have it!—at least I think I have. What if she should feel a “sneaking kindness” for you, after all?

BART. Pshaw!

COL. But what about friend Royston?

BART. Hang friend Royston!

COL. With all my heart; but where the deuce is he?

BART. Waiting somewhere or other to hear the result of my interview with Miss Templeton.

COL. In which you undertook to plead his cause—eh?

BART. Yes; and forgot all about it in my anxiety to plead my own!

COL. What’s that? Do you mean to say you confided to her the secret between you and Josephine?

BART. Yes; trusting in her generous nature and her sisterly affection, I certainly did!

COL. And a pretty mess you’ve made of it! Well, I must find Royston and let him know. As for you, as you’ve received orders to march, the sooner you pack up and pack off the better! (hurries out at C.).

(Door at R. H. opens, and JOSEPHINE peeps in.)

JOSEPHINE. Harry! Are you alone?—quite alone? (hurries forward).

BART. Yes. What is it?

JOSEPHINE. Such a discovery! (in a very mysterious tone). She’s got one!

BART. She? Who?

JOSEPHINE. Julia!

BART. Got one? Got what?

JOSEPHINE. A young man! shut up in a box!

BART. In a box?

JOSEPHINE. Listen. After being well scolded by Aunt Martha, I followed Julia to her room. There she was, with a little open box before her, out of which she took something, looked at it, then pressed her lips to it, and gave such a sigh!—you might have heard it here! perhaps you did?

BART. Well?

JOSEPHINE. Then aunt called her, and she hurried out of the room, leaving the box on the table; and then—then—somehow or other—here it is! (producing a small casket). It looks as if there was a young man inside—I mean a portrait—doesn’t it?

BART. You’ve not opened it? (eagerly).

JOSEPHINE. No! That’s for Aunt Martha to do!

BART. Surely you would not betray your sister’s secret—perhaps her happiness?

JOSEPHINE. Much she cared about mine, didn’t she? Aunt Martha must and shall see it! (going; BARTON stops her, the box falls on stage and opens). There! there! how clumsy you are!

BART. (picks up the box, and then suddenly starting). What do I see?

JOSEPHINE. That’s what I want to know! It is a portrait, isn’t it?

BART. (confused). Yes!—no! a mere fancy sketch, nothing more! (taking miniature from box, and hastily concealing it in his breast-pocket). Be persuaded by me! replace the box where you found it! (giving box to her).

JOSEPHINE. Mayn’t I take just one little peep?—not that I’ve an atom of curiosity!

BART. No, no!

JOSEPHINE. Well, if you insist on it.

BART. I do not insist, I beg, implore of you.

JOSEPHINE. Very well! (hurries out at R. H.).

BART. (watching her out, then taking miniature out and looking at it). My portrait! and what is written here? (Reading.) “From memory.” What am I to think? Can I dare to hope that her indifference was assumed—that she ever loved me—that she loves me still? Can such happiness be mine? Dear, dear Julia. But zounds! what about Josephine? Poor little girl! I can’t marry them both! What—what is to be done? (walking up and down). Will anybody tell me what’s to be done?

Enter ROYSTON hurriedly at C.

ROYS. (coming down). Oh, here you are! I couldn’t wait any longer! (following BARTON up and down).

BART. (impatiently). Don’t worry! don’t bother!

ROYS. (astonished). Bother! when I want to thank you for introducing me to this charming, amiable family, and to tell you I don’t despair of becoming one of it!

BART. What?

ROYS. In a word, I’m in love! There’s no mistake about it! Over head and ears in love!

BART. What, sir? you persist in carrying on this absurd, ridiculous joke?

ROYS. Joke?

BART. Yes, sir; I beg to tell you I’ll not allow, I’ll not permit you to annoy poor dear Julia—I mean Miss Templeton—with your unwelcome attentions, sir—your absurd importunities, sir?

ROYS. Miss Templeton? My dear fellow, she’s nothing whatever to do with it! It’s the other! the little one!

BART. (joyfully). Josephine?

ROYS. Yes.

BART. My dear fellow! Come to my arms! (throwing his arms about ROYSTON, who struggles). I congratulate you! I give you joy! Such a sweet, charming, amiable creature, brimful of talent, overflowing with tenderness. Come to my arms again! (embracing ROYSTON again).

ROYS. Then you’ll speak for me—eh?

BART. Speak for yourself—here she comes.

Enter JOSEPHINE hurriedly at R.

JOSEPHINE (stopping on seeing ROYSTON). Mr. Royston.

BART. (aside to ROYSTON). Now, then, speak out! don’t be afraid! put on a sentimental look.

ROYS. (assuming a very lackadaisical look). This sort of thing! (Aloud.) Miss Josephine—I—I— (Aside.) It’s very awkward! if I only knew how to begin.

BART. (aside to him). Go on!

ROYS. Pardon my frankness, but it has been impossible for me to find myself in your charming society without being captivated—enchanted—by your fascinations, your—

JOSEPHINE (surprised). I thought it was my sister who—

ROYS. So it was! but she wouldn’t have me! that’s why I—

BART. (hastily aside to him). No! that won’t do!

ROYS. (shouting). No! that won’t do!

JOSEPHINE. (still more astonished). And you don’t hesitate to address me in this language before— (pointing to BARTON).

ROYS. Before my friend—my bosom friend—that I went to school with at Bagnigge Wells? Why should I? It is he who encourages me—who tells me to “go on.” You told me to “go on,” didn’t you?

JOSEPHINE (with intention, and looking at BARTON). But has it never occurred to you that you might have a rival?

ROYS. So much the better! I should make it my immediate business to sweep him off the face of the earth!

JOSEPHINE (to BARTON, in a sarcastic tone). And you, sir! you can listen with perfect calmness, indifference! Have you nothing to say?

ROYS. Yes! Have you nothing?—

BART. (aside to him). Hold your tongue! (Aloud, and with affected solemnity.) Ah! who can anticipate events? How little do we know what a few hours may bring forth!

ROYS. Yes! how little do we know!—

BART. (aside to him again). Hold your tongue! (Aloud.) In a word, what if circumstances compel me to leave England for a considerable time?

JOSEPHINE. A considerable time?

BART. Yes; for two years at least—possibly more!

JOSEPHINE. Two or three years?

BART. Could I venture to hope that you would submit to such a tax on your goodness—your patience?

JOSEPHINE (very quickly). I should think not, indeed!

BART. (aside). She doesn’t love me! Huzza! (Aloud.) What course is, then, open to me? One—only one: to sacrifice myself to the happiness of my friend!

ROYS. (grasping his hand). Glorious creature!

JOSEPHINE. But what about your own happiness? It isn’t likely you could give me up so quietly without some other reason—some other motive!

BART. I have another motive, which for your sister’s sake you will respect! In a word, that portrait—

JOSEPHINE. In Julia’s box? Yes. Well?

BART. Was mine! See! (taking out portrait and showing it).

JOSEPHINE (exclaiming). Yours? It is!

ROYS. Yours? It is! (bewildered).

JOSEPHINE. Then—then you are her young man, after all?

ROYS. Yes. You are her young man—

JOSEPHINE. Of course; now I understand. Now I see it all.

ROYS. So do I! No, I don’t! At least, not quite.

Enter COLONEL hurriedly at C.

COL. (singing as he comes in). “See, the conquering hero comes.” Victory! victory! Everything’s settled; and now, my dear young friends (shaking BARTON’S and JOSEPHINE’S hands), you can get married as soon as you like.

JOSEPHINE.	}	(together). Married?
BART.
ROYS.

COL. Yes! I had a devil of a fight for it, but I’ve carried the day! Aunt Martha consents, Julia consents, everybody consents!

ROYS. I beg your pardon! I don’t! (Shouting). I forbid the banns!

Enter MRS. TEMPLETON, followed by JULIA, at R. H.

JULIA (aside, as she sees BARTON). Still here!

JOSEPHINE. So, Aunt Martha, you’ve given your consent? And you, too, Julia?

JULIA (endeavoring to conceal her emotion). Yes, Josephine, willingly, gladly! Can I be indifferent to your happiness? (smiling sadly).

JOSEPHINE (aside). How bravely she bears herself! (Aloud.) And yet, just now, you were so indignant, so angry with me?

JULIA. A momentary caprice, an unworthy jealousy!—but no more of that. Kiss me, dear sister! (kissing JOSEPHINE and moving away).

JOSEPHINE (aside). A tear? But you won’t suffer long, poor dear martyr! (Suddenly bursting into loud laughter.) Ha! ha! ha! (Aside to COLONEL.) Laugh!

COL. (forcing laugh). Ha! ha! ha! (Aside.) Laugh!

ROYS. (very loud). Ha! ha! ha! (Aside.) I don’t know what I’m laughing about.

MRS. T. What is the matter?

JOSEPHINE (laughing again). Ha! ha! ha! You don’t mean to say you’ve all been taken in? Did you think we were in earnest all the time? Ha! ha! ha! (Aside to COLONEL.) Laugh!

COL. Ha! ha! ha!

ROYS. (very loud). Ha! ha! ha!

MRS. T. (impatiently). Josephine, I insist on your explaining this extraordinary behavior instantly!

JOSEPHINE. Nothing so simple. (To COLONEL and BARTON.) There’s no necessity for our carrying on this innocent little jest any longer, is there?

MRS. T. Jest?

JOSEPHINE. Yes; this harmless conspiracy to make everybody happy! Julia dear, it was to test your love for me that I pretended to be so very anxious to get married, which I wasn’t the least little bit in the world (with a sly look at ROYSTON). I mean I wasn’t then! My fellow-conspirator, Mr. Barton, fearing that your rejection of him might proceed from a preference for another, joined in the plot, but very unwillingly, for it is you, Julia, you alone, that he has ever loved; you alone that he loves still!

MRS. T. What is it I hear?

BART. The truth, madam! (To JULIA.) May I hope, or must I endure a second refusal!

JULIA (tenderly). I suffered too much from the first, Harry (giving her hand to BARTON).

ROYS. (aside). That’s one couple; but there’s room for another. (To MRS. TEMPLETON.) Madam, I have the honor to solicit the hand of your younger niece, Miss Josephine!

MRS. T. With all my heart, Mr. Royston; that is, unless Josephine objects.

JOSEPHINE (quickly). But she doesn’t! (giving her hand to ROYSTON).

BART. You see, Jonathan will be satisfied, after all.

ROYS. Yes. But poor Sophia (sighing).

BART. Hush! (Aside to JULIA, and slipping the portrait into her hand.) You’ll put this portrait back in its place.

JOSEPHINE. She won’t care to look at it, now that she’s got the original.

THE CURTAIN FALLS.