Celia. (Smiling and shaking hands with Grice) Thank you, Admiral, thank you.
Raleigh. (Up L.C. to Steele) Engaged!
Steele. By George! (They contemplate Celia from a new point of view.)
Faraday. (Up R.C. with Aunt Ida. Smiling broadly and rubbing his hands together) Good-old-John-Smith!
Evelyn. (Patronizingly) Well, Father, he may be one of the good Smiths, you know.
Madge. (From chair R.) If Celia would only stop being such a clam, and tell us.
Celia. But, Madge dear, I have told you.
Faraday. (Comes down stage to R. of Celia) Well, Celia, I suppose he will be coming to see us soon?
Celia. Oh, yes-father-after the war. (Leaning back on chair R. of table L.)
Phyllis. (Quickly) The war?
(All show surprise and interest.)
Celia. Yes, you see he sailed this morning on board a troop ship, for Somaliland. It was just within an hour of his leaving that he-spoke to me.
Faraday. But during that hour he might have told you something about himself.
Phyllis. Oh, Father! How absurd! On occasions of that kind, an hour passes very quickly, (Turns to Tarver and smiles.)
(All laugh.)
Faraday. Well, I remember that when I proposed to your mother, I told her my life history three times over in the first hour. (Goes up stage.)
Evelyn. (Deprecatingly) Oh, Father! (To Celia) What's his regiment?
Celia. Oh, it is a very good one, Evelyn dear. It's one of the West African ones, you know. It has green thing-a-majigs all down the front.
(Evelyn goes up L. and crosses R.)
Tarver. It sounds like a garden party.
Madge. Well, but-Celia- (Rises, comes to Celia and offers hand and passes Celia in front of her to chair L. of table R.)
Phyllis. Oh, yes, do tell us.
Celia. (Sitting L. of table R. Eagerly, to get rid of the questions) But there is very little to tell.
(Raleigh and Steele drop down R.C. Evelyn joins them. Aunt Ida is back of Celia. Grice is C. Madge L. of Celia. Faraday drops down behind Celia's chair to R. of Aunt Ida. They are new all grouped about Celia's chair, except Tarver, who is in chair below fender. They all show smiling interest.)
Celia. Well, you see, we had been together in the house all the week-and-er-this morning I was in the garden-alone-and-and he joined me. (Pause.) And-er-it was then. (Covers her-face in mock confusion.)
(All laugh sympathetically.)
Phyllis. (From sofa) What did he say?
Celia. (Looks at Tarver and Phyllis and waving toward Tarver) Oh, you know.
(All laugh.)
Phyllis. And-are you happy?
Celia. (Looking at group bending over her) Well, I really believe that this change will make a very great difference in my life.
Faraday. (Patting Celia on shoulder) Well, I hope so, my dear child, I hope so. Now, let's go back and finish our rubber.
(There is a general bright buzz of conversation, such as "By jove!" "I'll bet it does," "Why, yes, Celia," "Well, I should think it would," "Indeed it will," etc. Faraday goes up to card room with Evelyn, Grice and Aunt Ida. They resume their bridge game in former positions. Madge catches Tarver's eye and they join each other up R., evidently talking about Celia's engagement. Phyllis stops on sofa, talking across to Celia, as Celia glances over the remaining envelopes and slips them into the large blue envelope, in view of audience.)
Raleigh. (To Steele, L.C.) It's obvious that Smith didn't find it difficult.
Steele. (Who is R. of Raleigh. Looking thoughtfully at Celia) No, he didn't. Perhaps, we have all been mistaken. You know she isn't so bad looking-if you look long enough. (Steele starts to cross to Celia. Raleigh stops him and goes over himself. Steele comes back of chair L.)
Raleigh. Miss Faraday, I haven't congratulated you yet. I hope you won't go off to Southampton soon again. We all missed you dreadfully when you were away.
(Steele shows impatience at Raleigh's talking to Celia.)
Celia. I'm sure you did. My coming back as I've done seems to have made a very great difference.
Raleigh. Oh, great. Believe me, great. Well, you've every good wish of mine. (Gushingly extending his hand, which Celia takes amusedly.)
Celia. (Warmly) I am sure I have, Mr. Raleigh.
Faraday. (From card room) Come, Raleigh.
Raleigh. (Over his shoulder) But you threw down your cards.
Faraday. Well, I'm going to take them up again.
Grice. (Impatiently) Come along, Raleigh!
Steele. (Triumphantly motions Raleigh back to card room and eagerly takes his place beside Celia's chair) What Raleigh has just said, I most warmly echo, my dear Miss Faraday.
(Raleigh returns and takes Steele by the arm.)
Raleigh. You are wanted over here, Steele.
(Celia watches them with amusement.)
Steele. But I am cut out.
Raleigh. (Taking Steele back to card room) Well, you can cut in again.
(Steele goes reluctantly back to card room, protesting to Raleigh and looking back over his shoulder at Celia as he goes. Those in card room resume former positions and go on with bridge game.)
Madge. (Coming down to Celia and putting her arms around her) Celia!
(Tarver strolls up to morning room and sits right of table and begins reading again.)
Celia. Yes.
Madge. The Indian Mail goes out to-night-via Brindisi and Port Said.
Celia. Well?
Madge. Port Said. That's where letters to Somaliland will be transferred.
(Celia is startled.)
Phyllis. Oh, of course you must write to him. (Jumps up, runs up to writing table R.C., brings blotter from table, containing sheets of paper, envelopes, pens and ink, and puts them on magazine table; stands above and to the R. of Celia.)
Celia. (Protestingly) But it's too late.
Madge. No, the post doesn't go until ten. You have just time.
Phyllis. (Opening blotting pad and ink well) You must, if it is only a note. He will be expecting something.
Celia. Oh, I couldn't write in such a hurry.
Phyllis. (Forcing pen into Celia's hand) You must.
Celia. (Laughingly) Well, I can't write with you two at my elbows, you know.
(Madge goes slowly up into card room, turning and smiling at Celia as she goes.)
Phyllis. (Running up and around and down to foot of sofa) I shan't look. (Kneels on Chesterfield sofa, facing Celia) What do you call him?
Celia. (At a loss) I don't know.
Phyllis. (Surprised) You don't know?
Celia. (Recovering herself) I mean, dear, I use a pet name.
Phyllis. Oh, lovely, what is it?
Celia. Really, it's too absurd, you know, Phyllis. It's-it's-Wobbles.
Phyllis. (Laughing and surprised) Wobbles!
Celia. Yes, dear. Everybody calls him-Wobbles.
Phyllis. (Laughing) Celia, it's delicious. Fancy your being married to a man called Wobbles! (Pretending to write in the air) "My darling Wobbles." (Laughs and runs up to Tarver, who is seated reading in the morning room, saying as she goes) Bobby, what do you think? (She tells Tarver the name of Celia's fiance in dumb show as she sits opposite him.)
Celia. (Writing) "My darling Wobbles."
(Tarver laughs. Laugh in card room.)
Celia. (Looks around to see that no one is overlooking or watching her. Writes) "I hardly know how to write you. It all seems too hauntingly beautiful to be true. I see your face everywhere-Wobbles. The very tulips have a look of you. Oh, dearest, don't get wounded in the war." (Leans back and laughs to herself) Good Heavens, when I got up this morning, did I ever think that I should be doing anything like this? (Resumes writing) "This is my first love letter, Wobbles, but even I know how it ought to end. Crosses, Wobbles, crosses. One, two, three, four, five, nought, nought, nought, nought, nought. To be taken as required. Thine forever. Celia Faraday." (Phyllis comes to right of sofa and hands envelope to Celia.) Thank you, dear. (Tarver strolls down center, looking at Celia. Celia turns letter face down on blotter to prevent its being seen by Phyllis. Then seeing that she is being scrutinised by Tarver and Phyllis, she takes envelope from Phyllis, places letter in it, addresses it and seals it. Addressing letter) "Colonel Smith, Field Force, Somaliland, Africa."
Tarver. I say, Miss Faraday.
Celia. Yes.
Tarver. I hope awfully that you will help me in my election.
Raleigh. (Speaking from card room, turning in his chair and holding card aloft) Yes, it's just girls like you, Miss Faraday, who win the day.
Tarver. Righto!!
Grice. (Thumping the table) Have you none of that suit, sir?
Raleigh. (Whirling around and playing) Oh, yes, I beg your pardon.
(Madge comes to desk, gets her letter, goes down to foot of sofa and hands it to Phyllis. Steele sees that Celia has finished letter and comes slowly down C.)
Celia. Of course, I will help you, Mr. Tarver. It's awfully nice to have you ask me for help, you know.
Tarver. Oh, thanks awfully. (Goes up and around to Phyllis, who is on sofa, talks to Madge and Phyllis.)
Steele. You have finished, Miss Faraday?
Celia. Yes.
Steele. May I put that letter in the box for you?
Celia. No, thanks. I will see to it.
Steele. Well-wouldn't you like to come and play a game of billiards?
Celia. No, thank you. I really must go and change my shoes. (Indicating her feet) You can see that these are quite damp.
Steele. (Most graciously) I can't be expected to see things so small as that. But-(Getting chair from left) Won't you let me talk to you for just a minute?
Celia. (Rising) I really must go and change.
(Steele disconsolately and slowly puts back chair, leaving it turned on stage. He stands watching Celia for a moment, then walks up L. of table L., looking at big picture on left wall as he goes. Note: Evelyn should give him a signal when Celia exits.)
Madge. I will go with you, dear. (Goes to door R.I and takes the knob in her hand.)
(Tarver sits on fender, leans over and talks intently to Phyllis.)
Celia. No, don't bother, Madgie.
Madge. It's no bother. I have a lovely new frock I want to show you. You might want to copy it for your trousseau. (Exit R.)
Celia. (Puzzled) My trousseau? (Recovers herself) My trousseau, oh, yes, yes, my trousseau. (Looks quickly and vainly about for some place to hide letter, either in her dress or under the table. No one is looking at Celia during this business. She sees large blue envelope in which she has already placed two unopened letters. Note: The flap of this large envelope must be turned in. She quickly holds it up and slips the letter to Smith inside and hides it between the periodicals on lower end of table. She then looks around to see that no one has observed her and exits quickly R.)
(Phyllis beckons to Tarver and he sits beside her on sofa. Immediately Celia exits, Steele starts after her. When he gets down R.C., Raleigh rushes after him, carrying a card.)
Raleigh. Where are you going?
Steele. I thought perhaps Miss Faraday might let me put on her slippers.
Raleigh. (Taking Steele by the arm) Well, she is not going to put them on in the hall. She has gone to her room. You come back here.
Grice. (Shouts loudly and bangs table and jumps up) Raleigh!
Faraday. Is this a game of bridge or a game of tag?
Raleigh and Steele. I beg your pardon! (They rush back to card room and Raleigh plays card that he has carried away.)
Faraday. There now, he revoked too, and that's game and rubber.
(Steele strolls down extreme L., goes R. a few steps and stands watching door where Celia has made her exit.)
Raleigh. (Coming down R.C., also looking toward door R.I) Do I owe anything?
(Faraday goes C. up stage. Grice comes C. down stage. Evelyn comes R. of L. table with a bridge score in her hand.)
Grice. (Coming down center above and to the L. of Raleigh) Do you owe anything? You have revoked, lost the rubber, played the worst game I have ever seen, and now you ask if you owe anything. Yes, you owe Lady Trenchard three and six.
(Raleigh turns L. to Evelyn and pays her.)
Faraday. (Moving R. toward morning room) Come and have a whiskey and soda.
Tarver. Whiskey and soda. What, ho! (He rises.)
(Grice, Faraday and Tarver exit through morning room. Enter Martin L.I with salver. Steele starts for door R.I and gets to door. Raleigh goes up to morning room. Just as he gets to the door, he sees Steele, who is about to exit after Celia.)
Raleigh. No, you don't, Steele. You come along here.
(Steele goes up R. of sofa and exits with Raleigh, protesting. There is a general lively subdued conversation during these exits.)
Martin. (When only Phyllis and Evelyn are left on the stage) It is time for the letters, your Ladyship.
Evelyn. (Goes L. above table, adding up her bridge score and deferring the matter to Phyllis) Oh, Phyllis.
Phyllis. (Crossing to Martin with letter that Madge has given her) Here's one of Mrs. Rockingham's. (Martin comes C., takes it and turns to door L. Phyllis turns back R. Stopping) Oh, Martin. (Martin stops at table R.) Has Miss Faraday given you one?
Martin. No, Miss.
Phyllis. I will call her- Wait a minute- Perhaps she left it here. (Warn electrician for lights out. Phyllis looks about on table and writing desk, then returns to table. She aimlessly rummages through pile of periodicals at foot of table, knocking them off on the floor. In replacing them, she comes across blue envelope, and in picking this up by one corner, the letters that Celia has put in it, including the "Smith" letter, fall to the floor. She goes to replace the letters, sees the "Smith" letter, and speaks) Oh, here it is. (Reads address) Colonel John Smith, Somaliland. (Crosses and gives letter to Martin and he exits L.I. She returns to table, places two of the magazines back on it, then the large blue envelope in which she has replaced other letters, and then the rest of the magazines on top of these. All this should be done quickly and unconsciously, Phyllis humming while she is doing it.)
Evelyn. (After Phyllis has replaced magazines) I wonder who he is. Oh, let's look him up in the army list. (Gets army list from book slide, table L.)
Phyllis. Oh, let's. (Crosses to Evelyn and together they turn over the pages to the S's. Reading) "Smith-Smith-Smith-Smith" – Oh, here it is. "J. N. Smith, D. S. O."
Evelyn. (With mild surprise) Distinguished Service Order.
Phyllis. (Reading) "West African Rifles."
Evelyn. (Crossing R. to morning room) I suppose that's the man.
Phyllis. It must be. (Replaces army list in book slide and runs after Evelyn toward morning room to electric light switch by door) The Rifles wear green thing-a-majigs on their tunics, don't they?
Evelyn. Yes, I think they do.
(Phyllis switches off light and then Evelyn puts out lamp in the morning room as they exit chatting. The room is lighted now only by the firelight and light in card room. As soon as the stage is clear, Celia enters cautiously. She goes to table R., looks for large envelope, finds it and throws it quickly into the fire, not looking at its contents. She stands thinking a moment, then goes to table L., looks at book rack, snatches out army list, crosses and, after making sure that it is the army list by looking at it in the firelight, throws it into the fire. Note: The electrician should at this point flash on and off a thirty-two amber lamp in the fireplace to give the impression of the burning of the envelope and army list that Celia has thrown into the fire. Aunt Ida, who has remained out of sight in the card room, enters as Celia crosses to fire with book.)
Aunt Ida. Why, Celia.
Celia. (Turns around, startled. Goes to light switch up R. and turns on lights) Oh, it's you, Aunt Ida.
Aunt Ida. (Comes down and crosses to center and sees book in flames) Celia, what was that?
Celia. (Sitting on fender and swinging her foot) That? The army list.
Aunt Ida. The army list? And you burned it? Celia!
Celia. Well, Aunt Ida.
Aunt Ida. (Beside chair L. of table R. In low voice, almost tearfully) Celia, darling, have you been doing something-foolish? (Celia laughs.) Is there-is there-anything peculiar about-Colonel Smith?
Celia. (Smiling) What would you call-peculiar, Aunt Ida?
Aunt Ida. (With great gentleness, but evidently distressed) Forgive me, dearest. It is-is there anything about Colonel Smith you don't want the family to know?
Celia. Yes. (Going to Aunt Ida above chair R. Laughs) There is-something-about Colonel Smith-I don't want the family to know. (Laughs.)
Aunt Ida. Why, isn't he-what you said?
Celia. (Looking at Aunt Ida and laughing) He is not.
Aunt Ida. (Timidly) No-?
Celia. He is-not!! (Celia, above chair R., swings Aunt Ida into it.)
Aunt Ida. Mercy, child! Don't drive me crazy! He is not-not what?
Celia. Not at all. (Looks at Aunt Ida and begins to laugh irrepressibly.)
Aunt Ida. Celia!
Celia. (Bends above Aunt Ida, putting her arms about her from back and kissing her neck) Hush-listen, dear- Will you swear you won't betray me?
Aunt Ida. But-Celia!
Celia. Will you promise, Aunt Ida? I know I can trust you if you will only really promise never to breathe a word of what I am going to tell you to any living being?
Aunt Ida. Well-but-I am not sure.
Celia. Oh, very well, then-if you don't want to (Crosses to chair R. of table L. and sits.)
Aunt Ida. No, no, Celia, I promise. There now, I have promised.
Celia. Very well, then. (Slowly and emphatically) There-isn't-any-Colonel Smith.
Aunt Ida. (Helplessly) There-isn't-any-Colonel?
Celia. None.
Aunt Ida. Then who is he?
Celia. He isn't. I invented him.
Aunt Ida. (Rising) But, Celia-your engagement?
Celia. Well, naturally I invented that too.
Aunt Ida. Celia Faraday, you are not telling the truth.
Celia. (Shaking her head) No.
Aunt Ida. (Going towards Celia) You are deceiving everybody.
Celia. Yes.
Aunt Ida. You are being frightfully immoral.
Celia. Yes.
Aunt Ida. (Startled) And how on earth are you going to keep them from finding out?
Celia. (Taking Aunt Ida's hand) Well, first of all, dear, a regiment did sail for Somaliland this morning.
Aunt Ida. Yes, but regiments sail back.
Celia. Wobbles won't.
Aunt Ida. Wobbles?
Celia. (Laughing to herself) Isn't that a heavenly name, Aunt Ida, – Wobbles?
Aunt Ida. (Turning away from Celia reprovingly) Celia!
Celia. (Still seated, throwing out her arms with a big gesture) Oh, the difference that dear, dear man is going to make in my life. Oh, the difference.
Aunt Ida. (Going back to Celia and putting her hand on her shoulder) Oh, my dearest child. Do give up this mad scheme and come back with me and be happy in Chicago.
Celia. Oh, I couldn't give it up now. It's going to be too much fun. Now be a dear and stand by me through this and then I'll go to Chicago and stay there forever, but first let me have this one mad experience, do let me enjoy my blushing triumph as a brave and absent soldier's adored fiancée. (Crosses to table R. and straightens writing things.) Do you know, Aunt Ida, I just loved writing that first love letter to him just now.
Aunt Ida. But Celia, your letter!!!
Celia. That is all right, dear. I burned that. Do you know what I am going to do, Aunt Ida? (Suddenly throwing herself in chair L. of table R.)
Aunt Ida. What?
Celia. I am going to make it a point now to shut myself alone in my room every afternoon for hours-let someone else look after the house and the servants while I correspond with Wobbles. (Aunt Ida laughs.) I am going to give myself a chance at last. I'm going to do all sorts of wonderful things.
Aunt Ida. (Down C.) What?
Celia. (Rising and coming to her) I don't know what, but I'm going to do them. One day I'll wear a haunted look in my eye as I gaze sadly toward Somaliland. I wonder where it is. (Looks around.) The next, I'll have a merry laugh or else a mocking smile. By day, I'll wander through the woods and think of him. By night, I'll sit before the fire and dream of him.
Aunt Ida. Celia! Celia!
Celia. Oh, I know I'll be a perfect fool, but I'll be the only one who will know it, and if one little fib can turn this household upside down, I am going to keep it there now just as long as it pleases me. (Saunters right.)
Aunt Ida. (Frightened) Celia, suppose you are found out!
Celia. (Coming back C.) Now, what should I do? My heroic Wobbles-my beloved Colonel Smith will die-in Somaliland. (Going to magazine table, gets calendar, comes down C. to Aunt Ida and runs over leaves.) Now, let me see when-when will he die? (Stop's at a leaf.) On October 11th. There, now, it is all arranged. (She replaces calendar on table.) After eight brief months of the most perfect understanding, I shall lose-Wobbles. After eight months, I'll write out a notice of his death and you will send it to the Times.
Aunt Ida. (Slowly) To The Times? I?
Celia. Yes.
Aunt Ida. Never. (Sits R. of table L.)
Celia. What? Not if I promise to go with you to Chicago? (Aunt Ida shakes her head.) And you know how much you always wanted me to do that. Oh, yes, you will, Aunt Ida. (Goes to her.) I'll buy the tickets to-morrow. You shall have the very nicest cabin on the whole ship. On October 11th we will kill off the Colonel and the very next day we will sail away, we'll sail away. (Crosses R. gayly.)
Aunt Ida. I tell you, I will not help you. It's too immoral.
Celia. Oh, very well, then. Have I, or have I not, proved now that I can help myself?
Aunt Ida. (Rising and coming C. Half angry, half laughing) Are you, or are you not, ashamed of yourself, Celia Faraday?
Celia. Ashamed? I? Why, no, not the least little bit in the world. I don't believe I was ever so happy in all my life.
Aunt Ida. Oh, oh!
Celia. It's all very well, dear, for you to "Oh, oh!" at me, but I ask you, Aunt Ida, have you ever been pitied and patronized as I was here to-night, as I have been all these years, and looked upon as old and ugly and dowdy and dull?
Aunt Ida. (Sympathetically) Not that, Celia, not that.
Celia. Oh, don't think I don't know those things about myself. I do, but I don't like to hear them all the time, just the same. Have you ever been a wall-flower at every ball you have gone to, while all the other girls danced and had a perfectly lovely time? Have you ever been seated next to the oldest, deafest members of the community at every dinner party you have gone to? Positively, Aunt Ida, I've grown so now that I can't talk at a dinner party except through an ear trumpet. (Goes R. and then returns.) And, if that Tarver creature or a Jim Raleigh or that old fossil of an Admiral or any other mortal trouser-wearing remnant of humanity had ever condescended to propose to me, there isn't a man or woman in this entire household, beginning with Martin and the boot boy, who wouldn't respect me and treat me quite differently in consequence.
Aunt Ida. Yes, I know it.
Celia. Oh, don't I know it?
Aunt Ida. Yes, it has been pretty well rubbed in.
Celia. Yes, I should say it has. Well, it has just been rubbed in so hard to-night that, as Phyllis would say, the straw has broken the worm's back and the worm has turned at last. Never, never, never again will I be content to be what I have been all these years. "Good old Celia." (Walking R.) Yes, "Nice old thing." (Walking to C.) Celia who doesn't want things and Celia who looks after things and Celia who doesn't mind things and Celia who attends to things. Well, Celia who attends to things is dead. Now everything attends to Celia. (Warn curtain. From now on, gay and laughing and walking to and fro across stage with Aunt Ida slowly, her arm around Aunt Ida's waist.) When the day begins and Father shouts, "God bless my soul, what's the matter with this coffee?" (Turns right) I'll be upstairs in bed, drinking chocolate. And then, when the evening comes and Martin says, "Beg pardon, Miss, but the whiskey is out," I'll say, "I don't care. Colonel Smith doesn't drink." (Turns L.) Instead of keeping house accounts, I'm going to write my love letters, and instead of ordering groceries, I'm going to order frocks, and wait until you see the frocks I'm going to order. (They stop walking.) I'm going to be a blazing dream. I'll be younger than the youngest of them, gayer than the gayest, and what do I care now what any of them say or do or think about me? I'll wear just as many green stockings as they wish at as many weddings as they please, and I'll laugh and I'll sing and I'll dance them into holes, because why? Well, I'll have a sweetheart of my own, don't you see? I'll be the lady love of-Wobbles. (Waves her handkerchief in the air and she and Aunt Ida embrace, laughing heartily.)
QUICK CURTAIN
(Running time, thirty to thirty-five minutes, depending on laughs.)