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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/37140-8.txt b/37140-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3d8331c --- /dev/null +++ b/37140-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1676 @@ +Project Gutenberg's A Proposal Under Difficulties, by John Kendrick Bangs + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Proposal Under Difficulties + A Farce + +Author: John Kendrick Bangs + +Release Date: August 20, 2011 [EBook #37140] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A PROPOSAL UNDER DIFFICULTIES *** + + + + +Produced by David E. Brown, Bryan Ness and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) + + + + + + + + + + [Illustration: "PST!"] + + + + + A Proposal + Under Difficulties + + A Farce + + By + John Kendrick Bangs + + Illustrated + + Harper & Brothers Publishers + New York and London + 1905 + + + Copyright, 1896, by HARPER & BROTHERS. + + _All rights reserved._ + + Published September, 1905. + + + + +CAST OF CHARACTERS + + + ROBERT YARDSLEY, } _suitors for the hand of + JACK BARLOW, } Miss Andrews_. + + DOROTHY ANDREWS, _a much-loved young woman_. + + JENNIE, _a housemaid_. + + HICKS, _a coachman, who does not appear_. + + + + +A PROPOSAL UNDER DIFFICULTIES + + + _The scene is laid in a fashionable New York drawing-room. The + time is late in October, and Wednesday afternoon. The curtain + rising shows an empty room. A bell rings. After a pause the + front-door is heard opening and closing. Enter YARDSLEY through + portière at rear of room._ + +_Yardsley._ Ah! So far so good; but I wish it were over. I've had the +nerve to get as far as the house and into it, but how much further my +courage will carry me I can't say. Confound it! Why is it, I wonder, +that men get so rattled when they're head over heels in love, and want +to ask the fair object of their affections to wed? I can't see. Now I'm +brave enough among men. I'm not afraid of anything that walks, except +Dorothy Andrews, and generally I'm not afraid of her. Stopping runaway +teams and talking back to impudent policemen have been my delight. I've +even been courageous enough to submit a poem in person to the editor of +a comic weekly, and yet here this afternoon I'm all of a tremble. And +for what reason? Just because I've co-come to ask Dorothy Andrews to +change her name to Mrs. Bob Yardsley; as if that were such an unlikely +thing for her to do. Gad! I'm almost inclined to despise myself. +(_Surveys himself in the mirror at one end of the room. Then walking up +to it and peering intently at his reflection, he continues._) Bah! you +coward! Afraid of a woman--a sweet little woman like Dorothy. You ought +to be ashamed of yourself, Bob Yardsley. _She_ won't hurt you. Brace up +and propose like a man--like a real lover who'd go through fire for her +sake, and all that. Ha! That's easy enough to talk about, but how shall +I put it? That's the question. Let me see. How _do_ men do it? I ought +to buy a few good novels and select the sort of proposal I like; but not +having a novel at hand, I must invent my own. How will it be? Something +like this, I fancy. (_The portières are parted, and JENNIE, the maid, +enters. YARDSLEY does not observe her entrance._) I'll get down on my +knees. A man on his knees is a pitiable object, and pity, they say, is +akin to love. Maybe she'll pity me, and after that--well, perhaps pity's +cousin will arrive. (_The maid advances, but YARDSLEY is so intent +upon his proposal that he still fails to observe her. She stands back +of the sofa, while he, gazing downward, kneels before it._) I'll say: +"Divine creature! At last we are alone, and I--ah--I can speak freely +the words that have been in my heart to say to you for so long--oh, so +long a time." (_JENNIE appears surprised._) "I have never even hinted +at how I feel towards you. I have concealed my love, fearing lest by too +sudden a betrayal of my feelings I should lose all." (_Aside._) Now for +a little allusion to the poets. Poetry, they say, is a great thing for +proposals. "You know, dearest, you must know, how the poet has phrased +it--'Fain would I fall but that I fear to climb.' But now--now I must +speak. An opportunity like this may not occur again. Will you--will you +be my wife?" + + [_JENNIE gives a little scream of delight._ + + [Illustration: "'DIVINE CREATURE'"] + +_Jennie._ Oh, Mr. Yardsley, this is so suddent like and unexpected, and +me so far beneath you! + + [_YARDSLEY looks up and is covered with confusion._ + +_Yardsley._ Great Scott! What have I done? + +_Jennie._ But of course it ain't for the likes of me to say no to-- + +_Yardsley_ (_rising_). For Heaven's sake, Jennie--do be sensi-- +Don't--say--Jennie, why--ah-- (_Aside._) Oh, confound it! What the deuce +shall I say? What's the matter with my tongue? Where's my vocabulary? A +word! a word! my kingdom for a word! (_Aloud._) Now, Jen-- + +_Jennie_ (_coyly_). I has been engaged to Mr. Hicks, the coach +gentleman, sir, but-- + +_Yardsley._ Good! good! I congratulate you, Jennie. Hicks is a very fine +fellow. Drives like a--like a driver, Jennie, a born driver. I've seen +him many a time sitting like a king on his box--yes, indeed. Noticed him +often. Admired him. Gad, Jennie, I'll see him myself and tell him; and +what is more, Jennie, I'll--I'll give Hicks a fine present. + +_Jennie._ Yes, sir; I has no doubt as how you'll be doin' the square +thing by Hicks, for, as I was a-sayin', I has been engaged like to him, +an' he has some rights; but I think as how, if I puts it to him right +like, and tells him what a nice gentleman you are (_a ring is heard at +the front-door_), it'll be all right, sir. But there goes the bell and I +must run, Mr. Yardsley. (_Ecstatically kissing her hand._) Bob! + +_Yardsley_ (_with a convulsive gasp_). Bob? Jennie! You--er--you +misun--(_JENNIE, with a smile of joy and an ecstatic glance at +YARDSLEY, dances from the room to attend the door. YARDSLEY throws +himself into a chair._) Well, I'll be teetotally--Awh! It's too dead +easy proposing to somebody you don't know you are proposing to. What a +kettle of fish this is, to be sure! Oh, pshaw! that woman can't be +serious. She must know I didn't mean it for her. But if she doesn't, +good Lord! what becomes of me? (_Rises, and paces up and down the room +nervously. After a moment he pauses before the glass._) I ought to be +considerably dishevelled by this. I feel as if I'd been drawn through a +knot-hole--or--or dropped into a stone-crusher--that's it, a +stone-crusher--a ten-million horse-power stone-crusher. Let's see how +you look, you poor idiot. + + [_As he is stroking his hair and rearranging his tie he talks in + pantomime at himself in the glass. In a moment JENNIE ushers + MR. JACK BARLOW into the room._ + +_Jennie._ Miss Andrews will be down in a minute, sir. + + [_BARLOW takes arm-chair and sits gazing ahead of him. Neither he + nor YARDSLEY perceives the other. JENNIE tiptoes to one side, + and, tossing a kiss at YARDSLEY, retires._ + +_Barlow._ Now for it. I shall leave this house to-day the happiest or +the most miserable man in creation, and I rather think the odds are in +my favor. Why shouldn't they be? Egad! I can very well understand how a +woman could admire me. I admire myself, rather. I confess candidly that +I do not consider myself half bad, and Dorothy has always seemed to feel +that way herself. In fact, the other night in the Perkinses' +conservatory she seemed to be quite ready for a proposal. I'd have done +it then and there if it hadn't been for that confounded Bob Yardsley-- + +_Yardsley_ (_turning sharply about_). Eh? Somebody spoke my name. A man, +too. Great Heavens! I hope Jennie's friend Hicks isn't here. I don't +want to have a scene with Hicks. (_Discovering BARLOW._) +Oh--ah--why--hullo, Barlow! You here? + +_Barlow_ (_impatiently, aside_). Hang it! Yardsley's here too! The man's +always turning up when he's not wanted. (_Aloud._) Ah! why, Bob, how are +you? What're you doing here? + +_Yardsley._ What do you suppose--tuning the piano? I'm here because I +want to be. And you? + +_Barlow._ For the same reason that you are. + +_Yardsley_ (_aside_). Gad! I hope not. (_Aloud._) Indeed? The great +mind act again? Run in the same channel, and all that? Glad to see you. +(_Aside._) May the saints forgive me that fib! But this fellow must be +got rid of. + +_Barlow_ (_embarrassed_). So'm I. Always glad to see myself--I mean +you--anywhere. Won't you sit down? + +_Yardsley._ Thanks. Very kind of you, I'm sure. (_Aside._) He seems very +much at home. Won't I sit down?--as if he'd inherited the chairs! Humph! +I'll show him. + +_Barlow._ What say? + +_Yardsley._ I--ah--oh, I was merely remarking that I thought it was +rather pleasant out to-day. + +_Barlow._ Yes, almost too fine to be shut up in-doors. Why aren't you +driving, or--or playing golf, or--ah--or being out-doors somewhere? You +need exercise, old man; you look a little pale. (_Aside._) I must get +him away from here somehow. Deuced awkward having another fellow about +when you mean to propose to a woman. + +_Yardsley._ Oh, I'm well enough! + +_Barlow_ (_solicitously_). You don't look it--by Jove, you don't. +(_Suddenly inspired._) No, you don't, Bob. You overestimate your +strength. It's very wrong to overestimate one's strength. +People--ah--people have died of it. Why, I'll bet you a hat you can't +start now and walk up to Central Park and back in an hour. Come. I'll +time you. (_Rises and takes out watch._) It is now four-ten. I'll wager +you can't get back here before five-thirty. Eh? Let me get your hat. + + [_Starts for door._ + +_Yardsley_ (_with a laugh_). Oh no; I don't bet--after four. But I say, +did you see Billie Wilkins? + +_Barlow_ (_returning in despair_). Nope. + +_Yardsley_ (_aside_). Now for a bit of strategy. (_Aloud._) He was +looking for you at the club. (_Aside._) Splendid lie! (_Aloud._) Had +seats for the--ah--the Metropolitan to-night. Said he was looking for +you. Wants you to go with him. (_Aside._) That ought to start him along. + +_Barlow._ I'll go with him. + + [Illustration: "I'LL TIME YOU"] + +_Yardsley_ (_eagerly_). Well, you'd better let him know at once, then. +Better run around there and catch him while there's time. He said if he +didn't see you before half-past four he'd get Tom Parker to go. Fine +show to-night. Wouldn't lose the opportunity if I were you. (_Looking at +his watch._) You'll just about have time to do it now if you start at +once. + + [_Grasps BARLOW by arm, and tries to force him out. BARLOW + holds back, and is about to remonstrate, when DOROTHY enters. + Both men rush to greet her; YARDSLEY catches her left hand, + BARLOW her right._ + +_Dorothy_ (_slightly embarrassed_). Why, how do you do--this is an +unexpected pleasure--both of you? Excuse my left hand, Mr. Yardsley; I +should have given you the other if--if you'd given me time. + +_Yardsley._ Don't mention it, I pray. The unexpectedness is wholly mine, +Miss Andrews--I mean--ah--the pleasure is-- + +_Barlow._ Wholly mine. + +_Dorothy_ (_withdrawing her hands from both and sitting down_). I +haven't seen either of you since the Perkinses' dance. Wasn't it a +charming affair? + + [Illustration: "START AT ONCE"] + +_Yardsley._ Delightful I--ah--I didn't know that the Perkinses-- + +_Barlow_ (_interrupting_). It was a good deal of a crush, though. As +Mrs. Van Darling said to me, "You always meet--" + +_Yardsley._ It's a pity Perkins isn't more of a society man, though, +don't you think? + +_Dorothy._ Oh, I don't know. I've always found him very pleasant. He is +so sincere. + +_Barlow._ Isn't he, though? He looked bored to death all through the +dance. + +_Yardsley._ I thought so too. I was watching him while you were talking +to him, Barlow, and such a look of ennui I never saw on a man's face. + +_Barlow._ Humph! + +_Dorothy._ Are you going to Mrs. Van Darling's dinner? + +_Barlow._ Yes; I received my bid last night. You? + +_Dorothy._ Oh yes! + +_Yardsley_ (_gloomily_). I can't go very well. I'm--ah--engaged for +Tuesday. + +_Barlow._ Well, I hope you've let Mrs. Van Darling know. She's a +stickler for promptness in accepting or declining her invitations. If +you haven't, I'll tell her for you. I'm to see her to-night. + +_Yardsley._ Oh no! Never mind. I'll--I'll attend to it. + +_Barlow._ Oh, of course. But it's just as well she should know in +advance. You might forget it, you know. I'll tell her; it's no trouble +to me. + +_Dorothy._ Of course not, and she can get some one to take your place. + +_Yardsley_ (_desperately_). Oh, don't say anything about it. Fact is, +she--ah--she hasn't invited me. + +_Barlow._ Ah! (_Aside._) I knew that all along. Oh, but I'm clever! + +_Dorothy_ (_hastily, to relieve YARDSLEY'S embarrassment_). Have you +seen Irving, Mr. Yardsley? + +_Yardsley._ Yes. + +_Barlow_ (_suspiciously_). What in? I haven't seen you at any of the +first nights. + +_Yardsley_ (_with a grin_). In the grill-room at the Players'. + +_Barlow_ (_aside_). Bah! + +_Dorothy_ (_laughing_). You are so bright, Mr. Yardsley. + +_Barlow_ (_forcing a laugh_). Ha, ha, ha! Why, yes--very clever that. It +ought to have a Gibson picture over it, that joke. It would help it. +Those Gibson pictures are fine, I think. Carry any kind of joke, eh? + +_Yardsley._ Yes, they frequently do. + +_Dorothy._ I'm so glad you both like Gibson, for I just dote on him. I +have one of his originals in my portfolio. I'll get it if you'd like to +see it. + + [_She rises and goes to the corner of the room, where there + stands a portfolio-case._ + +_Yardsley_ (_aside_). What a bore Barlow is! Hang him! I must get rid of +him somehow. + + [_BARLOW meanwhile is assisting DOROTHY._ + +_Yardsley_ (_looking around at the others_). Jove! he's off in the +corner with her. Can't allow that, for the fact is Barlow's just a bit +dangerous--to me. + +_Dorothy_ (_rummaging through portfolio_). Why, it _was_ here-- + +_Barlow._ Maybe it's in this other portfolio. + +_Yardsley_ (_joining them_). Yes, maybe it is. That's a good idea. If it +isn't in one portfolio maybe it's in another. Clever thought! I may be +bright, Miss Andrews, but you must have observed that Barlow is +thoughtful. + +_Dorothy_ (_with a glance at BARLOW_). Yes, Mr. Yardsley, I have noticed +the latter. + +_Barlow._ Tee-hee! that's one on you, Bob. + +_Yardsley_ (_obtuse_). Ha, ha! Yes. Why, of course! Ha, ha, ha! For +repartee I have always said--polite repartee, of course--Miss Andrews +is--(_Aside._) Now what the dickens did she mean by that? + +_Dorothy._ I can't find it here. Let--me think. Where--can--it--be? + +_Barlow_ (_striking thoughtful attitude_). Yes, where can it be? Let me +do your thinking for you, Miss Dorothy. (_Then softly to her._) Always! + +_Yardsley_ (_mocking BARLOW_). Yes! Let _me_ think! (_Points his finger +at his forehead and assumes tragic attitude. Then stalks to the front of +stage in manner of burlesque Hamlet._) Come, thought, come. Shed the +glory of thy greatness full on me, and thus confound mine enemies. +Where the deuce is that Gibson? + +_Dorothy._ Oh, I remember. It's upstairs. I took it up with me last +night. I'll ring for Jennie, and have her get it. + +_Yardsley_ (_aside, and in consternation_). Jennie! Oh, thunder! I'd +forgotten her. I do hope she remembers not to forget herself. + +_Barlow._ What say? + +_Yardsley._ Nothing; only--ah--only that I thought it was very--very +pleasant out. + +_Barlow._ That's what you said before. + +_Yardsley_ (_indignantly_). Well, what of it? It's the truth. If you +don't believe it, go outside and see for yourself. + + [_JENNIE appears at the door in response to DOROTHY'S ring. + She glances demurely at YARDSLEY, who tries to ignore her + presence._ + +_Dorothy._ Jennie, go up to my room and look on the table in the corner, +and bring me down the portfolio you will find there. The large brown one +that belongs in the stand over there. + +_Jennie_ (_dazed_). Yessum. And shall I be bringin' lemons with it? + +_Dorothy._ Lemons, Jennie? + +_Jennie._ You always does have lemons with your tea, mum. + +_Dorothy._ I didn't mention tea. I want you to get my portfolio from +upstairs. It is on the table in the corner of my room. + + [_Looks at JENNIE in surprise._ + +_Jennie._ Oh, excuse me, mum. I didn't hear straight. + + [_She casts a languishing glance at YARDSLEY and disappears._ + +_Yardsley_ (_noting the glance, presumably aside_). Confound that +Jennie! + +_Barlow_ (_overhearing YARDSLEY_). What's that? Confound that Jennie? +Why say confound that Jennie? Why do you wish Jennie to be confounded? + +_Yardsley_ (_nervously_). I didn't say that. I--ah--I merely said +that--that Jennie appeared to be--ah--confounded. + +_Dorothy._ She certainly is confused. I cannot understand it at all. +Ordinarily I have rather envied Jennie her composure. + +_Yardsley._ Oh, I suppose--it's--it's--it's natural for a young girl--a +servant--sometimes to lose her--equipoise, as it were, on occasions. If +we lose ours at times, why not Jennie? Eh? Huh? + +_Barlow._ Certainly. + +_Yardsley._ Of course--ha--trained servants are hard to get these days, +anyhow. Educated people--ah--go into other professions, such as law, +and--ah--the ministry--and-- + +_Dorothy._ Well, never mind. Let's talk of something more interesting +than Jennie. Going to the Chrysanthemum Show, Mr. Barlow? + +_Barlow._ I am; wouldn't miss it for the world. Do you know, really now, +the chrysanthemum, in my opinion, is the most human-looking flower we +have. The rose is too beautiful, too perfect, for me. The chrysanthemum, +on the other hand-- + +_Yardsley_ (_interrupting_). Looks so like a football-player's head it +appeals to your sympathies? Well, perhaps you are right. I never thought +of it in that light before, but-- + +_Dorothy_ (_smiling_). Nor I; but now that you mention it, it does look +that way, doesn't it? + +_Barlow_ (_not wishing to disagree with DOROTHY_). Very much. Droll +idea, though. Just like Bob, eh? Very, very droll. Bob's always dro-- + +_Yardsley_ (_interrupting_). When I see a man walking down the avenue +with a chrysanthemum in his button-hole, I always think of a wild Indian +wearing a scalp for decorative purposes. + + [_BARLOW and DOROTHY laugh at this, and during their mirth + JENNIE enters with the portfolio. She hands it to DOROTHY. + DOROTHY rests it on the arm of her chair, and, BARLOW looking + over one shoulder, she goes through it. JENNIE in passing out + throws another kiss to YARDSLEY._ + +_Yardsley_ (_under his breath, stamping his foot_). Awgh! + +_Barlow._ What say? + + [_DOROTHY looks up, surprised._ + +_Yardsley._ I--I didn't say anything. My--ah--my shoe had a piece +of--ah-- + +_Barlow._ Oh, say lint, and be done with it. + +_Yardsley_ (_relieved, and thankful for the suggestion_). Why, how did +you know? It did, you know. Had a piece of lint on it, and I tried to +get it off by stamping, that's all. + +_Dorothy._ Ah, here it is. + +_Yardsley._ What? The lint? + +_Barlow._ Ho! Is the world nothing but lint to you? Of course not--the +Gibson. Charming, isn't it, Miss Dorothy? + +_Dorothy_ (_holding the picture up_). Fine. Just look at that girl. +Isn't she pretty? + +_Barlow._ Very. + +_Dorothy._ And such style, too. + + [Illustration: "CHARMING, ISN'T IT?"] + +_Yardsley_ (_looking over DOROTHY'S other shoulder_). Yes, very +pretty, and lots of style. (_Softly._) Very--like some one--some one I +know. + +_Barlow_ (_overhearing_). I think so myself, Yardsley. It's exactly +like Josie Wilkins. By-the-way--ah--how is that little affair coming +along, Bob? + +_Dorothy_ (_interested_). What! You don't mean to say--Why, _Mister_ +Yardsley! + +_Yardsley_ (_with a venomous glance at BARLOW_). Nonsense. Nothing in +it. Mere invention of Barlow's. He's a regular Edison in his own way. + + [_DOROTHY looks inquiringly at BARLOW._ + +_Barlow_ (_to YARDSLEY_). Oh, don't be so sly about it, old fellow! +_Every_body knows. + +_Yardsley._ But I tell you there's nothing in it. I--I have different +ideas entirely, and you--you know it--or, if you don't, you will +shortly. + +_Dorothy._ Oh! Then it's some one else, Mr. Yardsley? Well, now I _am_ +interested. Let's have a little confidential talk together. Tell _us_, +Mr. Yardsley, tell Mr. Barlow and me, and maybe--I can't say for +certain, of course--but maybe we can help you. + +_Barlow_ (_gleefully rubbing his hands_). Yes, old man; certainly. Maybe +we--_we_ can help you. + +_Yardsley_ (_desperately_). You can help me, both of you--but--but I +can't very well tell you how. + +_Barlow._ I'm willing to do all I can for you, my dear Bob. If you will +only tell us her name I'll even go so far as to call, in your behalf, +and propose for you. + +_Yardsley._ Oh, thanks. You are very kind. + +_Dorothy._ I think so too, Mr. Barlow. You are almost too kind, it seems +to me. + +_Yardsley._ Oh no; not too kind, Miss Andrews. Barlow simply realizes +that one who has proposed marriage to young girls as frequently as he +has knows how the thing is done, and he wishes to give me the benefit of +his experience. (_Aside._) That's a facer for Barlow. + +_Barlow._ Ha, ha, ha! Another joke, I suppose. You see, my dear Bob, +that I am duly appreciative. I laugh. Ha, ha, ha! But I must say I laugh +with some uncertainty. I don't know whether you intended that for a joke +or for a staggerer. You should provide your conversation with a series +of printed instructions for the listener. Get a lot of cards, and have +printed on one, "Please laugh"; on another, "Please stagger"; on +another, "Kindly appear confused." Then when you mean to be jocose hand +over the laughter card, and so on. Shall I stagger? + +_Dorothy._ I think that Mr. Yardsley meant that for a joke. Didn't you, +Mr. Yardsley? + +_Yardsley._ Why, certainly. Of course. I don't really believe Barlow +ever had sand enough to propose to any one. Did you, Jack? + +_Barlow_ (_indignant_). Well, I rather think I have. + +_Dorothy._ Ho, ho! Then you _are_ an experienced proposer, Mr. Barlow? + +_Barlow_ (_confused_). Why--er--well--um--I didn't exactly mean that, +you know. I meant that--ah--if it ever came to the--er--the test, I +think I could--I'd have sand enough, as Yardsley puts it, to do the +thing properly, and without making a--ah--a Yardsley of myself. + +_Yardsley_ (_bristling up_). Now what do you mean by that? + +_Dorothy._ I think you are both of you horrid this afternoon. You are so +quarrelsome. Do you two always quarrel, or is this merely a little +afternoon's diversion got up for my especial benefit? + +_Barlow_ (_with dignity_). I never quarrel. + +_Yardsley._ Nor I. I simply differ sometimes, that's all. I never had an +unpleasant word with Jack in my life. Did I, Jack? + +_Barlow._ Never. I always avoid a fracas, however great the provocation. + +_Dorothy_ (_desperately_). Then let us have a cup of tea together +and be more sociable. I have always noticed that tea promotes +sociability--haven't you, Mr. Yardsley? + +_Yardsley._ Always. (_Aside._) Among women. + +_Barlow._ What say? + + [_DOROTHY rises and rings the bell for JENNIE._ + +_Yardsley._ I say that I am very fond of tea. + +_Barlow._ So am I--here. + + [_Rises and looks at pictures. YARDSLEY meanwhile sits in moody + silence._ + +_Dorothy_ (_returning_). You seem to have something on your mind, Mr. +Yardsley. I never knew you to be so solemn before. + +_Yardsley._ I have something on my mind, Miss Dorothy. It's-- + +_Barlow_ (_coming forward_). Wise man, cold weather like this. It would +be terrible if you let your mind go out in cold weather without anything +on it. Might catch cold in your idea. + +_Dorothy._ I wonder why Jennie doesn't come? I shall have to ring again. + + [_Pushes electric button again._ + +_Yardsley_ (_with an effort at brilliance_). The kitchen belle doesn't +seem to work. + +_Dorothy._ Ordinarily she does, but she seems to be upset by something +this afternoon. I'm afraid she's in love. If you will excuse me a moment +I will go and prepare the tea myself. + +_Barlow._ Do; good! Then we shall not need the sugar. + +_Yardsley._ You might omit the spoons too, after a remark like that, +Miss Dorothy. + +_Dorothy._ We'll omit Mr. Barlow's spoon. I'll bring some for you and +me. + + [_She goes out._ + +_Yardsley_ (_with a laugh_). That's one on you, Barlow. But I say, old +man (_taking out his watch and snapping the cover to three or four +times_), it's getting very late--after five now. If you want to go with +Billie Wilkins you'd better take up your hat and walk. I'll say good-bye +to Miss Andrews for you. + +_Barlow._ Thanks. Too late now. You said Billie wouldn't wait after +four-thirty. + +_Yardsley._ Did I say four-thirty? I meant five-thirty. Anyhow, Billie +isn't over-prompt. Better go. + +_Barlow._ You seem mighty anxious to get rid of me. + +_Yardsley._ I? Not at all, my dear boy--not at all. I'm very, very fond +of you, but I thought you'd prefer opera to me. Don't you see? That's +where my modesty comes in. You're so fond of a good chat I thought you'd +want to go to-night. Wilkins has a box. + +_Barlow._ You said seats a little while ago. + +_Yardsley._ Of course I did. And why not? There are seats in boxes. +Didn't you know that? + +_Barlow._ Look here, Yardsley, what's up, anyhow? You've been deuced +queer to-day. What are you after? + + [Illustration: "WHAT'S UP, ANYHOW?"] + +_Yardsley_ (_tragically_). Shall I confide in you? Can I, with a sense +of confidence that you will not betray me? + +_Barlow_ (_eagerly_). Yes, Bob. Go on. What is it? I'll never give you +away, and I _may_ be able to give you some good advice. + +_Yardsley._ I am here to--to--to rob the house! Business has been bad, +and one must live. + + [_BARLOW looks at him in disgust._ + +_Yardsley_ (_mockingly_). You have my secret, John Barlow. Remember that +it was wrung from me in confidence. You must not betray me. Turn your +back while I surreptitiously remove the piano and the gas-fixtures, +won't you? + +_Barlow_ (_looking at him thoughtfully_). Yardsley, I have done you an +injustice. + +_Yardsley._ Indeed? + +_Barlow._ Yes. Some one claimed, at the club, the other day, that you +were the biggest donkey in existence, and I denied it. I was wrong, old +man, I was wrong, and I apologize. You are. + +_Yardsley._ You are too modest, Jack. You forget--yourself. + +_Barlow._ Well, perhaps I do; but I've nothing to conceal, and you have. +You've been behaving in a most incomprehensible fashion this afternoon, +as if you owned the house. + +_Yardsley._ Well, what of it? Do you own it? + +_Barlow._ No, I don't, but-- + +_Yardsley._ But you hope to. Well, I have no such mercenary motive. I'm +not after the house. + +_Barlow_ (_bristling up_). After the house? Mercenary motive? I demand +an explanation of those words. What do you mean? + +_Yardsley._ I mean this, Jack Barlow: I mean that I am here for--for my +own reasons; but you--you have come here for the purpose of-- + + [_DOROTHY enters with a tray, upon which are the tea things._ + +_Barlow_ (_about to retort to YARDSLEY, perceiving DOROTHY_). Ah! Let +me assist you. + +_Dorothy._ Thank you so much. I really believe I never needed help more. +(_She delivers the tray to BARLOW, who sets it on the table. DOROTHY, +exhausted, drops into a chair._) Fan me--quick--or I shall faint. +I've--I've had an awful time, and I really don't know what to do! + +_Barlow_ and _Yardsley_ (_together_). Why, what's the matter? + +_Yardsley._ I hope the house isn't on fire? + +_Barlow._ Or that you haven't been robbed? + +_Dorothy._ No, no; nothing like that. It's--it's about Jennie. + +_Yardsley_ (_nervously_). Jennie? Wha--wha--what's the matter with +Jennie? + +_Dorothy._ I only wish I knew. I-- + +_Yardsley_ (_aside_). I'm glad you don't. + +_Barlow._ What say? + +_Yardsley._ I didn't say anything. Why should I say anything? I haven't +anything to say. If people who had nothing to say would not insist upon +talking, you'd be-- + +_Dorothy._ I heard the poor girl weeping down-stairs, and when I went to +the dumb-waiter to ask her what was the matter, I heard--I heard a man's +voice. + +_Yardsley._ Man's voice? + +_Barlow._ Man's voice is what Miss Andrews said. + +_Dorothy._ Yes; it was Hicks, our coachman, and he was dreadfully angry +about something. + +_Yardsley_ (_sinking into chair_). Good Lord! Hicks! Angry! +At--something! + +_Dorothy._ He was threatening to kill somebody. + +_Yardsley._ This grows worse and worse! Threatening to kill somebody! +D-did-did you o-over-overhear huh-huh-whom he was going to kuk-kill? + +_Barlow._ What's the matter with you, Yardsley? Are you going to die of +fright, or have you suddenly caught a chill? + +_Dorothy._ Oh, I hope not! Don't die here, anyhow, Mr. Yardsley. If you +must die, please go home and die. I couldn't stand another shock to-day. +Why, really, I was nearly frightened to death. I don't know now but +what I ought to send for the police, Hicks was so violent. + +_Barlow._ Perhaps she and Hicks have had a lovers' quarrel. + +_Yardsley._ Very likely; very likely, indeed. I think that is no doubt +the explanation of the whole trouble. Lovers will quarrel. They were +engaged, you know. + +_Dorothy_ (_surprised_). No, I didn't know it. Were they? Who told you? + +_Yardsley_ (_discovering his mistake_). Why--er--wasn't it you said so, +Miss Dorothy? Or you, Barlow? + +_Barlow._ I have not the honor of the young woman's confidence, and so +could not have given you the information. + +_Dorothy._ I didn't know it, so how could I have told you? + +_Yardsley_ (_desperately_). Then I must have dreamed it. I do have the +queerest dreams sometimes, but there's nothing strange about this one, +anyhow. Parlor-maids frequently do--er--become engaged to coachmen and +butlers and that sort of thing. It isn't a rare occurrence at all. If +I'd said she was engaged to Billie Wilkins, or to--to Barlow here-- + +_Barlow._ Or to yourself. + +_Yardsley._ Sir? What do you mean to insinuate? That I am engaged to +Jennie? + +_Barlow._ I never said so. + +_Dorothy._ Oh, dear, let us have the tea. You quarrelsome men are just +wearing me out. Mr. Barlow, do you want cream in yours? + +_Barlow._ If you please; and one lump of sugar. (_DOROTHY pours it +out._) Thanks. + +_Dorothy._ Mr. Yardsley? + +_Yardsley._ Just a little, Miss Andrews. No cream, and no sugar. + + [_DOROTHY prepares a cup for YARDSLEY. He is about to take it when--_ + +_Dorothy._ Well, I declare! _It's nothing but hot water! I forgot the +tea entirely!_ + +_Barlow_ (_with a laugh_). Oh, never mind. Hot water is good for +dyspepsia. + + [_With a significant look at YARDSLEY._ + +_Yardsley._ It depends on how you get it, Mr. Barlow. I've known men +who've got dyspepsia from living in hot water too much. + + [_As YARDSLEY speaks the portière is violently clutched from + without, and JENNIE'S head is thrust into the room. No one + observes her._ + +_Barlow._ Well, my cup is very satisfactory to me, Miss Dorothy. Fact +is, I've always been fond of cambric tea, and this is just right. + +_Yardsley_ (_patronizingly_). It _is_ good for children. + +_Jennie_ (_trying to attract YARDSLEY'S attention_). Pst! + +_Yardsley._ My mamma lets me have it Sunday nights. + +_Dorothy._ Ha, ha, ha! + +_Barlow._ Another joke? Good. Let me enjoy it, too. Hee, hee! + +_Jennie._ Pst! + + [_BARLOW looks around; JENNIE hastily withdraws her head._ + +_Barlow._ I didn't know you had steam heat in this house. + +_Dorothy._ We haven't. What put such an idea as that into your head? + +_Barlow._ Why, I thought I heard the hissing of steam, the click of a +radiator, or something of that sort back by the door. + +_Yardsley._ Maybe the house is haunted. + +_Dorothy._ I fancy it was your imagination; or perhaps it was the wind +blowing through the hall. The pantry window is open. + +_Barlow._ I guess maybe that's it. How fine it must be in the country +now! + + [_JENNIE pokes her head in through the portières again, and + follows it with her arm and hand, in which is a feather-duster, + which she waves wildly in an endeavor to attract YARDSLEY'S + attention._ + +_Dorothy._ Divine. I should so love to be out of town still. It seems to +me people always make a great mistake returning to the city so early in +the fall. The country is really at its best at this time of year. + + [_YARDSLEY turns half around, and is about to speak, when he + catches sight of the now almost hysterical JENNIE and her + feather-duster._ + +_Barlow._ Yes; I think so too. I was at Lenox last week, and the foliage +was gorgeous. + +_Yardsley_ (_feeling that he must say something_). Yes. I suppose all +the feathers on the maple-trees are turning red by this time. + +_Dorothy._ Feathers, Mr. Yardsley? + +_Barlow._ Feathers? + +_Yardsley_ (_with a furtive glance at JENNIE_). Ha, ha! What an absurd +slip! Did I say feathers? I meant--I meant leaves, of course. All the +leaves on the dusters are turning. + +_Barlow._ I don't believe you know what you do mean. Who ever heard of +leaves on dusters? What are dusters? Do you know, Miss Dorothy? + + [_As he turns to MISS ANDREWS, YARDSLEY tries to wave JENNIE + away. She beckons with her arms more wildly than ever, and + YARDSLEY silently speaks the words_, "Go away." + +_Dorothy._ I'm sure I don't know of any tree by that name, but then I'm +not a--not a what? + +_Yardsley_ (_with a forced laugh_). Treeologist. + +_Dorothy._ What are dusters, Mr. Yardsley? + +_Barlow._ Yes, old man, tell us. I'm anxious to find out myself. + +_Yardsley_ (_aside_). So am I. What the deuce are dusters, for this +occasion only? (_Aloud._) What? Never heard of dusters? Ho! Why, dear +me, where have you been all your lives? (_Aside._) Must gain time to +think up what dusters are. (_Aloud._) Why, they're as old as the hills. + +_Barlow._ That may be, but I can't say I think your description is at +all definite. + +_Dorothy._ Do they look like maples? + +_Yardsley_ (_with an angry wave of his arms towards JENNIE_). +Something--in fact, very much. They're exactly like them. You can hardly +tell them from oaks. + +_Barlow._ Oaks? + +_Yardsley._ I said oaks. Oaks! O-A-K-S! + +_Barlow._ But oaks aren't like maples. + +_Yardsley._ Well, who said they were? We were talking about +oaks--and--erand dusters. We--er--we used to have a row of them in +front of our old house at--(_Aside._) Now where the deuce did we have +the old house? Never had one, but we must for the sake of the present +situation. (_Aloud._) Up at--at--Bryn-Mawr--or at--Troy, or some such +place, and--at--they kept the--the dust of the highway from getting into +the house. (_With a sigh of relief._) And so, you see, they were called +dusters. Thought every one knew that. + + [_As YARDSLEY finishes, JENNIE loses her balance and falls + headlong into the room._ + +_Dorothy_ (_starting up hastily_). Why, Jennie! + +_Yardsley_ (_staggering into chair_). That settles it. It's all up with +me. + + [_JENNIE sobs, and, rising, rushes to YARDSLEY'S side._ + +_Jennie._ Save yourself; he's going to kill you! + +_Dorothy._ Jennie! What is the meaning of this? Mr. Yardsley--can--can +you shed any light on this mystery? + +_Yardsley_ (_pulling himself together with a great effort_). I? I assure +you I can't, Miss Andrews. How could I? All I know is that somebody +is--is going to kill me, though for what I haven't the slightest idea. + +_Jennie_ (_indignantly_). Eh? What? Why, Mr. Yardsley--Bob! + +_Barlow._ Bob? + +_Dorothy._ Jennie! Bob? + + [Illustration: "WHY, JENNIE!"] + +_Yardsley._ Don't you call me Bob. + +_Jennie._ It's Hicks. + + [_Bursts out crying._ + +_Barlow._ Hicks? + +_Dorothy._ Jennie, Hicks isn't Bob. His name is George. + +_Yardsley_ (_in a despairing rage_). Hicks be-- + +_Dorothy._ Mr. Yardsley! + +_Yardsley_ (_pulling himself together again_). Bobbed. Hicks be Bobbed. +That's what I was going to say. + +_Dorothy._ What on earth does this all mean? I must have an explanation, +Jennie. What have you to say for yourself? + +_Jennie._ Why, I-- + +_Yardsley._ I tell you it isn't true. She's made it up out of whole +cloth. + +_Barlow._ What isn't true? She hasn't said anything yet. + +_Yardsley_ (_desperately_). I refer to what she's going to say. I'm +a--a--I'm a mind-reader, and I see it all as plain as day. + +_Dorothy._ I can best judge of the truth of Jennie's words when she has +spoken them, Mr. Yardsley. Jennie, you may explain, if you can. What do +you mean by Hicks killing Mr. Yardsley, and why do you presume to call +Mr. Yardsley by his first name? + +_Yardsley_ (_aside_). Heigho! My goose is cooked. + +_Barlow._ I fancy you wish you had taken that walk I suggested now. + +_Yardsley._ You always were a good deal of a fancier. + +_Jennie._ I hardly knows how to begin, Miss Dorothy. I--I'm so +flabbergasted by all that's happened this afternoon, mum, that I can't +get my thoughts straight, mum. + +_Dorothy._ Never mind getting your thoughts straight, Jennie. I do not +want fiction. I want the truth. + +_Jennie._ Well, mum, when a fine gentleman like Mr. Yardsley asks-- + +_Yardsley._ I tell you it isn't so. + +_Jennie._ Indeed he did, mum. + +_Dorothy_ (_impatiently_). Did what? + +_Jennie._ Axed me to marry him, mum. + +_Dorothy._ Mr. Yardsley--asked--you--to--to marry him? + + [_BARLOW whistles._ + +_Jennie_ (_bursting into tears again_). Yes, mum, he did, mum, right +here in this room. He got down on his knees to me on that Proossian rug +before the sofa, mum. I was standin' behind the sofa, havin' just come +in to tell him as how you'd be down shortly. He was standin' before the +lookin'-glass lookin' at himself, an' when I come in he turns around and +goes down on his knees and says such an importunity may not occur again, +mum; I've loved you very long; and then he recited some pottery, mum, +and said would I be his wife. + +_Yardsley_ (_desperately_). Let me explain. + +_Dorothy._ Wait; Mr. Yardsley; your turn will come in a moment. + +_Barlow._ Yes, it'll be here, my boy; don't fret about that. Take all +the time you need to make it a good one. Gad! if this doesn't strain +your imagination, nothing will. + +_Dorothy._ Go on, Jennie. Then what happened? + +_Yardsley_ (_with an injured expression_). Do you expect me to stand +here, Miss Andrews, and hear this girl's horrible story? + +_Barlow._ Then you know the story, do you, Yardsley? It's horrible, and +you are innocent. My! you are a mind-reader with a vengeance. + +_Dorothy._ Don't mind what these gentlemen say, Jennie, but go on. + + [_YARDSLEY sinks into the arm-chair. BARLOW chuckles; MISS + ANDREWS glances indignantly at him._ + +_Dorothy._ Pardon me, Mr. Barlow. If there is any humor in the +situation, I fail to see it. + +_Barlow_ (_seeing his error_). Nor, indeed, do I. I was +not--ah--laughing from mirth. That chuckle was hysterics, Miss Dorothy, +I assure you. There are some laughs that can hardly be differentiated +from sobs. + +_Jennie._ I was all took in a heap, mum, to think of a fine gentleman +like Mr. Yardsley proposing to me, mum, and I says the same. Says I, +"Oh, Mr. Yardsley, this is so suddent like," whereat he looks up with a +countenance so full o' pain that I hadn't the heart to refuse him; so, +fergettin' Hicks for the moment, I says, kind o' soft like, certingly, +sir. It ain't for the likes o' me to say no to the likes o' him. + +_Yardsley._ Then you said you were engaged to Hicks. You know you did, +Jennie. + +_Barlow._ Ah! Then you admit the proposal? + +_Yardsley._ Oh, Lord! Worse and worse! I-- + +_Dorothy._ Jennie has not finished her story. + +_Jennie._ I did say as how I was engaged to Hicks, but I thought he +would let me off; and Mr. Yardsley looked glad when I said that, and +said he'd make it all right with Hicks. + +_Yardsley._ What? I? Jennie O'Brien, or whatever your horrible name is, +do you mean to say that I said I'd make it all right with Hicks? + +_Jennie._ Not in them words, Mr. Yardsley; but you did say as how you'd +see him yourself and give him a present. You did indeed, Mr. Yardsley, +as you was a-standin' on that there Proossian rug. + +_Dorothy._ Did you, Mr. Yardsley? + + [_YARDSLEY buries his face in his hands and groans._ + +_Barlow._ Not so ready with your explanations now, eh? + +_Dorothy._ Mr. Barlow, really I must ask you not to interfere. Did you +say that, Mr. Yardsley? + +_Yardsley._ I did, but-- + +_Dorothy_ (_frigidly_). Go on, Jennie. + +_Jennie._ Just then the front-door bell rings and Mr. Barlow comes, and +there wasn't no more importunity for me to speak; but when I got +down-stairs into the kitchen, mum, Mr. Hicks he comes in, an' +(_sobs_)--an' I breaks with him. + +_Yardsley._ You've broken with Hicks for me? + +_Jennie._ Yes, I have--but I wouldn't never have done it if I'd +known--boo-hoo--as how you'd behave this way an' deny ever havin' said a +word. I--I--I l-lo-love Mr. Hicks, an' I--I hate you--and I wish I'd let +him come up and kill you, as he said he would. + +_Dorothy._ Jennie! Jennie! be calm! Where is Hicks now? + +_Yardsley._ That's so. Where is Hicks? I want to see him. + +_Jennie._ Never fear for that. You'll see him. He's layin' for you +outside. An' that, Miss Dorothy, is why I was a-wavin' at him an' sayin' +"pst" to him. I wanted to warn him, mum, of his danger, mum, because +Hicks is very vi'lent, and he told me in so many words as how he was +a-goin' to _do--him--up_. + +_Barlow._ You'd better inform Mr. Hicks, Jennie, that Mr. Yardsley is +already done up. + +_Yardsley._ Do me up, eh? Well, I like that. I'm not afraid of any +coachman in creation as long as he's off the box. I'll go see him at +once. + +_Dorothy._ No--no--no. Don't, Mr. Yardsley; don't, I beg of you. I don't +want to have any scene between you. + +_Yardsley_ (_heroically_). What if he succeeds? I don't care. As Barlow +says, I'm done up as it is. I don't want to live after this. What's the +use. Everything's lost. + +_Barlow_ (_dryly_). Jennie hasn't thrown you over yet. + +_Jennie_ (_sniffing airily_). Yes, she has, too. I wouldn't marry him +now for all the world--an'--an' I've lost--lost Hicks. (_Weeps._) Him as +was so brave, an' looks so fine in livery! + +_Yardsley._ If you'd only give me a chance to say something-- + +_Barlow._ Appears to me you've said too much already. + +_Dorothy_ (_coldly_). I--I don't agree with Mr. Barlow. You--you haven't +said enough, Mr. Yardsley. If you have any explanation to make, I'll +listen. + +_Yardsley_ (_looks up gratefully. Suddenly his face brightens. Aside_). +Gad! The very thing! I'll tell the exact truth, and if Dorothy has half +the sense I think she has, I'll get in my proposal right under Barlow's +very nose. (_Aloud._) My--my explanation, Miss Andrews, is very simple. +I--ah--I cannot deny having spoken every word that Jennie has charged to +my account. I did get down on my knees on the rug. I did say "divine +creature." I did not put it strong enough. I should have said "divinest +of _all_ creatures." + +_Dorothy_ (_in remonstrance_). Mr. Yardsley! + +_Barlow_ (_aside_). Magnificent bluff! But why? (_Rubs his forehead in a +puzzled way._) What the deuce is he driving at? + +_Yardsley._ Kindly let me finish. I did say "I love you." I should have +said "I adore you; I worship you." I did say, "Will you be my wife?" and +I was going to add, "for if you will not, then is light turned into +darkness for me, and life, which your 'yes' will render radiantly +beautiful, will become dull, colorless, and not worth the living." That +is what I was going to say, Miss Andrews--Miss Dorothy--when--when +Jennie interrupted me and spoke the word I most wish to hear--spoke the +word "yes"; but it was not her yes that I wished. My words of love were +not for her. + +_Barlow_ (_perceiving his drift_) Ho! Absurd! Nonsense! Most +unreasonable! You were calling the sofa the divinest of all creatures, I +suppose, or perhaps asking the--the piano to put on its shoes and--elope +with you. Preposterous! + +_Dorothy_ (_softly_). Go on, Mr. Yardsley. + +_Yardsley._ I--I spoke a little while ago about sand--courage--when it +comes to one's asking the woman he loves the greatest of all questions. +I was boastful. I pretended that I had that courage; but--well, I am not +as brave as I seem. I had come, Miss Dorothy, to say to you +the words that fell on Jennie's ears, and--and I began to get +nervous--stage-fright, I suppose it was--and I was foolish enough to +rehearse what I had to say--to you, and to you alone. + +_Barlow._ Let me speak, Miss Andrews. I-- + +_Yardsley._ You haven't anything to do with the subject in hand, my dear +Barlow, not a thing. + +_Dorothy._ Jennie--what--what have you to say? + +_Jennie._ Me? Oh, mum, I hardly knows what to say! This is suddenter +than the other; but, Miss Dorothy, I'd believe him, I would, +because--I--I think he's tellin' the truth, after all, for the reason +that--oh dear--for-- + +_Dorothy._ Don't be frightened, Jennie. For what reason? + +_Jennie._ Well, mum, for the reason that when I said "yes," mum, he +didn't act like all the other gentlemen I've said yes to, and--and +k-kuk-kiss me. + +_Yardsley._ That's it! that's it! Do you suppose that if I'd been after +Jennie's yes, and got it, I'd have let a door-bell and a sofa stand +between me and--the sealing of the proposal? + +_Barlow_ (_aside_). Oh, what nonsense this all is! I've got to get ahead +of this fellow in some way. (_Aloud._) Well, where do I come in? I came +here, Miss Andrews, to tell you-- + +_Yardsley_ (_interposing_). You come in where you came in before--just a +little late--after the proposal, as it were. + +_Dorothy_ (_her face clearing and wreathing with smiles_). What a comedy +of errors it has all been! I--I believe you, Mr. Yardsley. + +_Yardsley._ Thank Heaven! And--ah--you aren't going to say anything +more, D--Dorothy? + +_Dorothy._ I'm afraid-- + +_Yardsley._ Are you going to make me go through that proposal all over +again, now that I've got myself into so much trouble saying it the first +time--Dorothy? + +_Dorothy._ No, no. You needn't--you needn't speak of it again. + +_Barlow_ (_aside_). Good! That's _his congé_. + +_Yardsley._ And--then if I--if I needn't say it again? What then? Can't +I have--my answer now? Oh, Miss Andrews-- + +_Dorothy_ (_with downcast eyes, softly_). What did Jennie say? + +_Yardsley_ (_in ecstasy_). Do you mean it? + +_Barlow._ I fancy--I fancy I'd better go now, Miss--er--Miss Andrews. +I--I--have an appointment with Mr. Wilkins, and--er--I observe that it +is getting rather late. + +_Yardsley._ Don't go yet, Jack. I'm not so anxious to be rid of you now. + +_Barlow._ I must go--really. + +_Yardsley._ But I want you to make me one promise before you go. + +_Dorothy._ He'll make it, I'm sure, if I ask him. Mr. Yardsley and I +want you--want you to be our best man. + +_Yardsley._ That's it, precisely. Eh, Jack? + +_Barlow._ Well, yes. I'll be--second-best man. The events of the +afternoon have shown my capacity for that. + +_Yardsley._ Ah! + +_Barlow._ And I'll show my sincerity by wearing Bob's hat and coat into +the street now and letting the fury of Hicks fall upon me. + +_Jennie._ If you please, Miss Dorothy--I--I think I can attend to Mr. +Hicks. + +_Dorothy._ Very well. I think that would be better. You may go, Jennie. + + [_JENNIE departs._ + +_Barlow._ Well, good-day. I--I've had a very pleasant afternoon, +Miss--Andrews. Thanks for the--the cambric tea. + + [Illustration: HICKS] + +_Dorothy._ Good-bye, and don't forget. + +_Barlow._ I'm afraid--I won't. Good-bye, Bob. I congratulate you from my +heart. I was in hopes that I should have the pleasure of having you for +a best man at _my_ wedding, but--er--there's many a slip, you know, and +I wish you joy. + + [_YARDSLEY shakes him by the hand, and BARLOW goes out. As he + disappears through the portières YARDSLEY follows, and, holding + the curtain aside, looks after him until the front-door is heard + closing. Then he turns about. DOROTHY looks demurely around at + him, and as he starts to go to her side the curtain falls._ + + +THE END + + + + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES: + + Text in italics is indicated by underscores: _italics_. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Proposal Under Difficulties, by +John Kendrick Bangs + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A PROPOSAL UNDER DIFFICULTIES *** + +***** This file should be named 37140-8.txt or 37140-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/1/4/37140/ + +Produced by David E. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Proposal Under Difficulties + A Farce + +Author: John Kendrick Bangs + +Release Date: August 20, 2011 [EBook #37140] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A PROPOSAL UNDER DIFFICULTIES *** + + + + +Produced by David E. Brown, Bryan Ness and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/cover.png" alt="" /></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/frontispiece.png" alt="" /></div> +<p class="caption">"PST!"</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p class="center"><span class="giant">A Proposal<br/> +Under Difficulties</span></p> +<p> </p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">A Farce</span></p> +<p> </p> +<p class="center">By</p> +<p class="center"><span class="huge">John Kendrick Bangs</span></p> +<p> </p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">Illustrated</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/tpage.png" alt="" /></div> + +<p class="center"><span class="big">Harper & Brothers Publishers</span><br/> +New York and London<br/> +1905</p> +<p> </p> + + + +<p class="center">Copyright, 1896, by <span class="smcap">Harper & Brothers</span>.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>All rights reserved.</i></p> + +<p class="center">Published September, 1905.</p> + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p class="center"><span class="huge">CAST OF CHARACTERS</span></p> +<p> </p> +<table class="braces" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="table"> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Robert Yardsley</span>,</td><td>⎫</td><td> <i>suitors for the hand of</i></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td><td>⎬</td><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Jack Barlow</span>,</td><td>⎭</td><td align="center"><i>Miss Andrews</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="3"> </td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="3"><span class="smcap">Dorothy Andrews</span>, <i>a much-loved young woman</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="3"> </td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="3"><span class="smcap">Jennie</span>, <i>a housemaid</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="3"> </td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="3"><span class="smcap">Hicks</span>, <i>a coachman, who does not appear</i>.</td></tr></table> + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p class="center"><span class="huge">A PROPOSAL UNDER DIFFICULTIES</span></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> + +<p class="blockquot"><i>The scene is laid in a fashionable New York drawing-room. The +time is late in October, and Wednesday afternoon. The curtain +rising shows an empty room. A bell rings. After a pause the +front-door is heard opening and closing. Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Yardsley</span> <i>through +portière at rear of room</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Ah! So far so good; but I wish it were over. I've had the +nerve to get as far as the house and into it, but how much further my +courage will carry me I can't say. Confound it! Why is it, I wonder, +that men get so rattled when they're head over heels in love, and want +to ask the fair object of their affections<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> to wed? I can't see. Now I'm +brave enough among men. I'm not afraid of anything that walks, except +Dorothy Andrews, and generally I'm not afraid of her. Stopping runaway +teams and talking back to impudent policemen have been my delight. I've +even been courageous enough to submit a poem in person to the editor of +a comic weekly, and yet here this afternoon I'm all of a tremble. And +for what reason? Just because I've co-come to ask Dorothy Andrews to +change her name to Mrs. Bob Yardsley; as if that were such an unlikely +thing for her to do. Gad! I'm almost inclined to despise myself. +(<i>Surveys himself in the mirror at one end of the room. Then walking up +to it and peering intently at his reflection, he continues.</i>) Bah! you +coward! Afraid of a woman—a sweet little woman like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> Dorothy. You ought +to be ashamed of yourself, Bob Yardsley. <i>She</i> won't hurt you. Brace up +and propose like a man—like a real lover who'd go through fire for her +sake, and all that. Ha! That's easy enough to talk about, but how shall +I put it? That's the question. Let me see. How <i>do</i> men do it? I ought +to buy a few good novels and select the sort of proposal I like; but not +having a novel at hand, I must invent my own. How will it be? Something +like this, I fancy. (<i>The portières are parted, and</i> <span class="smcap">Jennie</span>, <i>the maid, +enters</i>. <span class="smcap">Yardsley</span> <i>does not observe her entrance</i>.) I'll get down on my +knees. A man on his knees is a pitiable object, and pity, they say, is +akin to love. Maybe she'll pity me, and after that—well, perhaps pity's +cousin will arrive. (<i>The maid advances, but</i> <span class="smcap">Yardsley</span> <i>is so intent +upon</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> <i>his proposal that he still fails to observe her. She stands back +of the sofa, while he, gazing downward, kneels before it.</i>) I'll say: +"Divine creature! At last we are alone, and I—ah—I can speak freely +the words that have been in my heart to say to you for so long—oh, so +long a time." (<span class="smcap">Jennie</span> <i>appears surprised</i>.)<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> "I have never even hinted +at how I feel towards you. I have concealed my love, fearing lest by too +sudden a betrayal of my feelings I should lose all." (<i>Aside.</i>) Now for +a little allusion to the poets. Poetry, they say, is a great thing for +proposals. "You know, dearest, you must know, how the poet has phrased +it—'Fain would I fall but that I fear to climb.' But now—now I must +speak. An opportunity like this may not occur again. Will you—will you +be my wife?"</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<span class="smcap">Jennie</span> <i>gives a little scream of delight</i>.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/fig_001.png" alt="" /></div> +<p class="caption">"'DIVINE CREATURE'"</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><i>Jennie.</i> Oh, Mr. Yardsley, this is so suddent like and unexpected, and +me so far beneath you!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p> +<p class="blockquot">[<span class="smcap">Yardsley</span> <i>looks up and is covered with confusion</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Great Scott! What have I done?</p> + +<p><i>Jennie.</i> But of course it ain't for the likes of me to say no to—</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>rising</i>). For Heaven's sake, Jennie—do be +sensi—Don't—say—Jennie, why—ah— (<i>Aside.</i>) Oh, confound it! What the deuce +shall I say? What's the matter with my tongue? Where's my vocabulary? A +word! a word! my kingdom for a word! (<i>Aloud.</i>) Now, Jen—</p> + +<p><i>Jennie</i> (<i>coyly</i>). I has been engaged to Mr. Hicks, the coach +gentleman, sir, but—</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Good! good! I congratulate you, Jennie. Hicks is a very fine +fellow. Drives like a—like a driver, Jennie, a born driver. I've seen +him many a time sitting like a king on his box—yes, indeed. Noticed him +often. Admired him. Gad, Jennie, I'll see<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> him myself and tell him; and +what is more, Jennie, I'll—I'll give Hicks a fine present.</p> + +<p><i>Jennie.</i> Yes, sir; I has no doubt as how you'll be doin' the square +thing by Hicks, for, as I was a-sayin', I has been engaged like to him, +an' he has some rights; but I think as how, if I puts it to him right +like, and tells him what a nice gentleman you are (<i>a ring is heard at +the front-door</i>), it'll be all right, sir. But there goes the bell and I +must run, Mr. Yardsley. (<i>Ecstatically kissing her hand.</i>) Bob!</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>with a convulsive gasp</i>). Bob? Jennie! You—er—you +misun—(<span class="smcap">Jennie</span>, <i>with a smile of joy and an ecstatic glance at</i> +<span class="smcap">Yardsley</span>, <i>dances from the room to attend the door.</i> <span class="smcap">Yardsley</span> <i>throws +himself into a chair</i>.) Well, I'll be teetotally—Awh! It's too dead<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> +easy proposing to somebody you don't know you are proposing to. What a +kettle of fish this is, to be sure! Oh, pshaw! that woman can't be +serious. She must know I didn't mean it for her. But if she doesn't, +good Lord! what becomes of me? (<i>Rises, and paces up and down the room +nervously. After a moment he pauses before the glass.</i>) I ought to be +considerably dishevelled by this. I feel as if I'd been drawn through a +knot-hole—or—or dropped into a stone-crusher—that's it, a +stone-crusher—a ten-million horse-power stone-crusher. Let's see how +you look, you poor idiot.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>As he is stroking his hair and rearranging his tie he talks in +pantomime at himself in the glass. In a moment</i> <span class="smcap">Jennie</span> <i>ushers</i> +<span class="smcap">Mr. Jack Barlow</span> <i>into the room</i>.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p> + +<p><i>Jennie.</i> Miss Andrews will be down in a minute, sir.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<span class="smcap">Barlow</span> <i>takes arm-chair and sits gazing ahead of him. Neither he +nor</i> <span class="smcap">Yardsley</span> <i>perceives the other</i>. <span class="smcap">Jennie</span> <i>tiptoes to one side, +and, tossing a kiss at</i> <span class="smcap">Yardsley</span>, <i>retires</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Now for it. I shall leave this house to-day the happiest or +the most miserable man in creation, and I rather think the odds are in +my favor. Why shouldn't they be? Egad! I can very well understand how a +woman could admire me. I admire myself, rather. I confess candidly that +I do not consider myself half bad, and Dorothy has always seemed to feel +that way herself. In fact, the other night in the Perkinses' +conservatory she seemed to be quite ready for a proposal. I'd<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> have done +it then and there if it hadn't been for that confounded Bob Yardsley—</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>turning sharply about</i>). Eh? Somebody spoke my name. A man, +too. Great Heavens! I hope Jennie's friend Hicks isn't here. I don't +want to have a scene with Hicks. (<i>Discovering</i> <span class="smcap">Barlow</span>.) +Oh—ah—why—hullo, Barlow! You here?</p> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> (<i>impatiently, aside</i>). Hang it! Yardsley's here too! The man's +always turning up when he's not wanted. (<i>Aloud.</i>) Ah! why, Bob, how are +you? What're you doing here?</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> What do you suppose—tuning the piano? I'm here because I +want to be. And you?</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> For the same reason that you are.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>aside</i>). Gad! I hope not.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> (<i>Aloud.</i>) Indeed? The great +mind act again? Run in the same channel, and all that? Glad to see you. +(<i>Aside.</i>) May the saints forgive me that fib! But this fellow must be +got rid of.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> (<i>embarrassed</i>). So'm I. Always glad to see myself—I mean +you—anywhere. Won't you sit down?</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Thanks. Very kind of you, I'm sure. (<i>Aside.</i>) He seems very +much at home. Won't I sit down?—as if he'd inherited the chairs! Humph! +I'll show him.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> What say?</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> I—ah—oh, I was merely remarking that I thought it was +rather pleasant out to-day.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Yes, almost too fine to be shut up in-doors. Why aren't you +driving, or—or playing golf, or—ah—or being out-doors somewhere? You +need<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> exercise, old man; you look a little pale. (<i>Aside.</i>) I must get +him away from here somehow. Deuced awkward having another fellow about +when you mean to propose to a woman.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Oh, I'm well enough!</p> + +<div class="figright"><img src="images/fig_002.png" alt="" /><p class="caption">"I'LL TIME YOU"</p></div> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> (<i>solicitously</i>). You don't look it—by Jove, you don't. +(<i>Suddenly inspired.</i>) No, you don't, Bob. You overestimate your +strength. It's very wrong to overestimate one's strength. +People—ah—people have died of it. Why, I'll bet you a hat you can't +start now and walk up to Central Park and back in an hour. Come. I'll +time you. (<i>Rises and takes out watch.</i>) It is now four-ten. I'll wager +you can't get back here before five-thirty. Eh? Let me get your hat.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Starts for door.</i></p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>with a laugh</i>). Oh no; I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> don't bet—after four. But I say, +did you see Billie Wilkins?</p> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> (<i>returning in despair</i>). Nope.</p> + + + + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>aside</i>). Now for a bit of strategy. (<i>Aloud.</i>) He was +looking for you at the club. (<i>Aside.</i>) Splendid lie! (<i>Aloud.</i>) Had +seats for the—ah—the Metropolitan to-night. Said he was looking for +you. Wants you to go with him. (<i>Aside.</i>) That ought to start him along.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> I'll go with him.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>eagerly</i>). Well, you'd bet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>ter let him know at once, then. +Better run around there and catch him while there's time. He said if he +didn't see you before half-past four he'd get Tom Parker to go. Fine +show to-night. Wouldn't lose the opportunity if I were you. (<i>Looking at +his watch.</i>) You'll just about have time to do it now if you start at +once.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Grasps</i> <span class="smcap">Barlow</span> <i>by arm, and tries to force him out</i>. <span class="smcap">Barlow</span> +<i>holds back, and is about to remonstrate, when</i> <span class="smcap">Dorothy</span> <i>enters. +Both men rush to greet her</i>; <span class="smcap">Yardsley</span> <i>catches her left hand</i>, +<span class="smcap">Barlow</span> <i>her right</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy</i> (<i>slightly embarrassed</i>). Why, how do you do—this is an +unexpected pleasure—both of you? Excuse my left hand, Mr. Yardsley; I +should have given you the other if—if you'd given me time.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Don't mention it, I pray. The unexpectedness is wholly mine, +Miss Andrews—I mean—ah—the pleasure is—</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Wholly mine.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy</i> (<i>withdrawing her hands from both and sitting down</i>). I +haven't seen either of you since the Perkinses' dance. Wasn't it a +charming affair?</p> + +<div class="figright"><img src="images/fig_003.png" alt="" /><p class="caption">"START AT ONCE"</p></div> + + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Delightful I—ah—I didn't know that the Perkinses—</p> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> (<i>interrupting</i>). It was a good deal of a crush, though. As +Mrs. Van Darling said to me, "You always meet—"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span></p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> It's a pity Perkins isn't more of a society man, though, +don't you think?</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Oh, I don't know. I've always found him very pleasant. He is +so sincere.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Isn't he, though? He looked bored to death all through the +dance.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> I thought so too. I was watching him while you were talking +to him, Barlow, and such a look of ennui I never saw on a man's face.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Humph!</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Are you going to Mrs. Van Darling's dinner?</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Yes; I received my bid last night. You?</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Oh yes!</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>gloomily</i>). I can't go very well. I'm—ah—engaged for +Tuesday.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Well, I hope you've let Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> Van Darling know. She's a +stickler for promptness in accepting or declining her invitations. If +you haven't, I'll tell her for you. I'm to see her to-night.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Oh no! Never mind. I'll—I'll attend to it.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Oh, of course. But it's just as well she should know in +advance. You might forget it, you know. I'll tell her; it's no trouble +to me.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Of course not, and she can get some one to take your place.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>desperately</i>). Oh, don't say anything about it. Fact is, +she—ah—she hasn't invited me.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Ah! (<i>Aside.</i>) I knew that all along. Oh, but I'm clever!</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy</i> (<i>hastily, to relieve</i> <span class="smcap">Yardsley's</span> <i>embarrassment</i>). Have you +seen Irving, Mr. Yardsley?</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Yes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span></p> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> (<i>suspiciously</i>). What in? I haven't seen you at any of the +first nights.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>with a grin</i>). In the grill-room at the Players'.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> (<i>aside</i>). Bah!</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy</i> (<i>laughing</i>). You are so bright, Mr. Yardsley.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> (<i>forcing a laugh</i>). Ha, ha, ha! Why, yes—very clever that. It +ought to have a Gibson picture over it, that joke. It would help it. +Those Gibson pictures are fine, I think. Carry any kind of joke, eh?</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Yes, they frequently do.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> I'm so glad you both like Gibson, for I just dote on him. I +have one of his originals in my portfolio. I'll get it if you'd like to +see it.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>She rises and goes to the corner of the room, where there +stands a portfolio-case.</i></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>aside</i>). What a bore Barlow is! Hang him! I must get rid of +him somehow.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<span class="smcap">Barlow</span> <i>meanwhile is assisting</i> <span class="smcap">Dorothy</span>.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>looking around at the others</i>). Jove! he's off in the +corner with her. Can't allow that, for the fact is Barlow's just a bit +dangerous—to me.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy</i> (<i>rummaging through portfolio</i>). Why, it <i>was</i> here—</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Maybe it's in this other portfolio.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>joining them</i>). Yes, maybe it is. That's a good idea. If it +isn't in one portfolio maybe it's in another. Clever thought! I may be +bright, Miss Andrews, but you must have observed that Barlow is +thoughtful.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy</i> (<i>with a glance at</i> <span class="smcap">Barlow</span>). Yes, Mr. Yardsley, I have noticed +the latter.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span><i>Barlow.</i> Tee-hee! that's one on you, Bob.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>obtuse</i>). Ha, ha! Yes. Why, of course! Ha, ha, ha! For +repartee I have always said—polite repartee, of course—Miss Andrews +is—(<i>Aside.</i>) Now what the dickens did she mean by that?</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> I can't find it here. Let—me think. Where—can—it—be?</p> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> (<i>striking thoughtful attitude</i>). Yes, where can it be? Let me +do your thinking for you, Miss Dorothy. (<i>Then softly to her.</i>) Always!</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>mocking</i> <span class="smcap">Barlow</span>). Yes! Let <i>me</i> think! (<i>Points his finger +at his forehead and assumes tragic attitude. Then stalks to the front of +stage in manner of burlesque Hamlet.</i>) Come, thought, come. Shed the +glory of thy greatness full on me, and thus confound mine<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> enemies. +Where the deuce is that Gibson?</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Oh, I remember. It's upstairs. I took it up with me last +night. I'll ring for Jennie, and have her get it.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>aside, and in consternation</i>). Jennie! Oh, thunder! I'd +forgotten her. I do hope she remembers not to forget herself.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> What say?</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Nothing; only—ah—only that I thought it was very—very +pleasant out.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> That's what you said before.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>indignantly</i>). Well, what of it? It's the truth. If you +don't believe it, go outside and see for yourself.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<span class="smcap">Jennie</span> <i>appears at the door in response to</i> <span class="smcap">Dorothy's</span> <i>ring</i>. +<i>She glances</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> <i>demurely at</i> <span class="smcap">Yardsley</span>, <i>who tries to ignore her +presence</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Jennie, go up to my room and look on the table in the corner, +and bring me down the portfolio you will find there. The large brown one +that belongs in the stand over there.</p> + +<p><i>Jennie</i> (<i>dazed</i>). Yessum. And shall I be bringin' lemons with it?</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Lemons, Jennie?</p> + +<p><i>Jennie.</i> You always does have lemons with your tea, mum.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> I didn't mention tea. I want you to get my portfolio from +upstairs. It is on the table in the corner of my room.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Looks at</i> <span class="smcap">Jennie</span> <i>in surprise</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Jennie.</i> Oh, excuse me, mum. I didn't hear straight.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>She casts a languishing glance at</i> <span class="smcap">Yardsley</span> <i>and disappears</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>noting the glance, presumably aside</i>). Confound that +Jennie!</p> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> (<i>overhearing</i> <span class="smcap">Yardsley</span>). What's that? Confound that Jennie? +Why say confound that Jennie? Why do you wish Jennie to be confounded?</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>nervously</i>). I didn't say that. I—ah—I merely said +that—that Jennie appeared to be—ah—confounded.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> She certainly is confused. I cannot understand it at all. +Ordinarily I have rather envied Jennie her composure.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Oh, I suppose—it's—it's—it's natural for a young girl—a +servant—sometimes to lose her—equipoise, as it were, on occasions. If +we lose ours at times, why not Jennie? Eh? Huh?</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Certainly.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Of course—ha—trained<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> servants are hard to get these days, +anyhow. Educated people—ah—go into other professions, such as law, +and—ah—the ministry—and—</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Well, never mind. Let's talk of something more interesting +than Jennie. Going to the Chrysanthemum Show, Mr. Barlow?</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> I am; wouldn't miss it for the world. Do you know, really now, +the chrysanthemum, in my opinion, is the most human-looking flower we +have. The rose is too beautiful, too perfect, for me. The chrysanthemum, +on the other hand—</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>interrupting</i>). Looks so like a football-player's head it +appeals to your sympathies? Well, perhaps you are right. I never thought +of it in that light before, but—</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy</i> (<i>smiling</i>). Nor I; but now<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> that you mention it, it does look +that way, doesn't it?</p> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> (<i>not wishing to disagree with</i> <span class="smcap">Dorothy</span>). Very much. Droll +idea, though. Just like Bob, eh? Very, very droll. Bob's always dro—</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>interrupting</i>). When I see a man walking down the avenue +with a chrysanthemum in his button-hole, I always think of a wild Indian +wearing a scalp for decorative purposes.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<span class="smcap">Barlow</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Dorothy</span> <i>laugh at this, and during their mirth</i> +<span class="smcap">Jennie</span> <i>enters with the portfolio. She hands it to</i> <span class="smcap">Dorothy</span>. +<span class="smcap">Dorothy</span> <i>rests it on the arm of her chair, and</i>, <span class="smcap">Barlow</span> <i>looking +over one shoulder, she goes through it</i>. <span class="smcap">Jennie</span> <i>in passing out +throws another kiss to</i> <span class="smcap">Yardsley</span>.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>under his breath, stamping his foot</i>). Awgh!</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> What say?</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<span class="smcap">Dorothy</span> <i>looks up, surprised</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> I—I didn't say anything. My—ah—my shoe had a piece +of—ah—</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Oh, say lint, and be done with it.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>relieved, and thankful for the suggestion</i>). Why, how did +you know? It did, you know. Had a piece of lint on it, and I tried to +get it off by stamping, that's all.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Ah, here it is.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> What? The lint?</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Ho! Is the world nothing but lint to you? Of course not—the +Gibson. Charming, isn't it, Miss Dorothy?</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy</i> (<i>holding the picture up</i>). Fine. Just look at that girl. +Isn't she pretty?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span><i>Barlow.</i> Very.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> And such style, too.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/fig_004.png" alt="" /></div> +<p class="caption">"CHARMING, ISN'T IT?"</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>looking over</i> <span class="smcap">Dorothy's</span> <i>other shoulder</i>). Yes, very +pretty, and lots of style. (<i>Softly.</i>) Very—like some one—some one I +know.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> (<i>overhearing</i>). I think so my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>self, Yardsley. It's exactly +like Josie Wilkins. By-the-way—ah—how is that little affair coming +along, Bob?</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy</i> (<i>interested</i>). What! You don't mean to say—Why, <i>Mister</i> +Yardsley!</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>with a venomous glance at</i> <span class="smcap">Barlow</span>). Nonsense. Nothing in +it. Mere invention of Barlow's. He's a regular Edison in his own way.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<span class="smcap">Dorothy</span> <i>looks inquiringly at</i> <span class="smcap">Barlow</span>.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> (<i>to</i> <span class="smcap">Yardsley</span>). Oh, don't be so sly about it, old fellow! +<i>Every</i>body knows.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> But I tell you there's nothing in it. I—I have different +ideas entirely, and you—you know it—or, if you don't, you will +shortly.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Oh! Then it's some one else, Mr. Yardsley? Well, now I <i>am</i> +interested. Let's have a little confidential<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> talk together. Tell <i>us</i>, +Mr. Yardsley, tell Mr. Barlow and me, and maybe—I can't say for +certain, of course—but maybe we can help you.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> (<i>gleefully rubbing his hands</i>). Yes, old man; certainly. Maybe +we—<i>we</i> can help you.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>desperately</i>). You can help me, both of you—but—but I +can't very well tell you how.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> I'm willing to do all I can for you, my dear Bob. If you will +only tell us her name I'll even go so far as to call, in your behalf, +and propose for you.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Oh, thanks. You are very kind.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> I think so too, Mr. Barlow. You are almost too kind, it seems +to me.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Oh no; not too kind, Miss<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> Andrews. Barlow simply realizes +that one who has proposed marriage to young girls as frequently as he +has knows how the thing is done, and he wishes to give me the benefit of +his experience. (<i>Aside.</i>) That's a facer for Barlow.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Ha, ha, ha! Another joke, I suppose. You see, my dear Bob, +that I am duly appreciative. I laugh. Ha, ha, ha! But I must say I laugh +with some uncertainty. I don't know whether you intended that for a joke +or for a staggerer. You should provide your conversation with a series +of printed instructions for the listener. Get a lot of cards, and have +printed on one, "Please laugh"; on another, "Please stagger"; on +another, "Kindly appear confused." Then when you mean to be jocose hand +over the laughter card, and so on. Shall I stagger?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span><i>Dorothy.</i> I think that Mr. Yardsley meant that for a joke. Didn't you, +Mr. Yardsley?</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Why, certainly. Of course. I don't really believe Barlow +ever had sand enough to propose to any one. Did you, Jack?</p> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> (<i>indignant</i>). Well, I rather think I have.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Ho, ho! Then you <i>are</i> an experienced proposer, Mr. Barlow?</p> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> (<i>confused</i>). Why—er—well—um—I didn't exactly mean that, +you know. I meant that—ah—if it ever came to the—er—the test, I +think I could—I'd have sand enough, as Yardsley puts it, to do the +thing properly, and without making a—ah—a Yardsley of myself.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>bristling up</i>). Now what do you mean by that?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span></p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> I think you are both of you horrid this afternoon. You are so +quarrelsome. Do you two always quarrel, or is this merely a little +afternoon's diversion got up for my especial benefit?</p> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> (<i>with dignity</i>). I never quarrel.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Nor I. I simply differ sometimes, that's all. I never had an +unpleasant word with Jack in my life. Did I, Jack?</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Never. I always avoid a fracas, however great the provocation.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy</i> (<i>desperately</i>). Then let us have a cup of tea together and be +more sociable. I have always noticed that tea promotes +sociability—haven't you, Mr. Yardsley?</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Always. (<i>Aside.</i>) Among women.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> What say?</p> + +<p class="blockquot"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>[<span class="smcap">Dorothy</span> <i>rises and rings the bell for</i> <span class="smcap">Jennie</span>.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> I say that I am very fond of tea.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> So am I—here.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Rises and looks at pictures.</i> <span class="smcap">Yardsley</span> <i>meanwhile sits in moody +silence</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy</i> (<i>returning</i>). You seem to have something on your mind, Mr. +Yardsley. I never knew you to be so solemn before.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> I have something on my mind, Miss Dorothy. It's—</p> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> (<i>coming forward</i>). Wise man, cold weather like this. It would +be terrible if you let your mind go out in cold weather without anything +on it. Might catch cold in your idea.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> I wonder why Jennie doesn't come? I shall have to ring again.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Pushes electric button again.</i></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>with an effort at brilliance</i>). The kitchen belle doesn't +seem to work.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Ordinarily she does, but she seems to be upset by something +this afternoon. I'm afraid she's in love. If you will excuse me a moment +I will go and prepare the tea myself.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Do; good! Then we shall not need the sugar.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> You might omit the spoons too, after a remark like that, +Miss Dorothy.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> We'll omit Mr. Barlow's spoon. I'll bring some for you and +me.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>She goes out.</i></p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>with a laugh</i>). That's one on you, Barlow. But I say, old +man (<i>taking out his watch and snapping the cover to three or four +times</i>), it's getting very late—after five now. If you want<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> to go with +Billie Wilkins you'd better take up your hat and walk. I'll say good-bye +to Miss Andrews for you.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Thanks. Too late now. You said Billie wouldn't wait after +four-thirty.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Did I say four-thirty? I meant five-thirty. Anyhow, Billie +isn't over-prompt. Better go.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> You seem mighty anxious to get rid of me.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> I? Not at all, my dear boy—not at all. I'm very, very fond +of you, but I thought you'd prefer opera to me. Don't you see? That's +where my modesty comes in. You're so fond of a good chat I thought you'd +want to go to-night. Wilkins has a box.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> You said seats a little while ago.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Of course I did. And why<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> not? There are seats in boxes. +Didn't you know that?</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Look here, Yardsley, what's up, anyhow? You've been deuced +queer to-day. What are you after?</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/fig_005.png" alt="" /></div> +<p class="caption">"WHAT'S UP, ANYHOW?"</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>tragically</i>). Shall I confide in you? Can I, with a sense +of confidence that you will not betray me?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> (<i>eagerly</i>). Yes, Bob. Go on. What is it? I'll never give you +away, and I <i>may</i> be able to give you some good advice.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> I am here to—to—to rob the house! Business has been bad, +and one must live.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<span class="smcap">Barlow</span> <i>looks at him in disgust.</i></p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>mockingly</i>). You have my secret, John Barlow. Remember that +it was wrung from me in confidence. You must not betray me. Turn your +back while I surreptitiously remove the piano and the gas-fixtures, +won't you?</p> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> (<i>looking at him thoughtfully</i>). Yardsley, I have done you an +injustice.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Indeed?</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Yes. Some one claimed, at the club, the other day, that you +were the biggest donkey in existence, and I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> denied it. I was wrong, old +man, I was wrong, and I apologize. You are.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> You are too modest, Jack. You forget—yourself.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Well, perhaps I do; but I've nothing to conceal, and you have. +You've been behaving in a most incomprehensible fashion this afternoon, +as if you owned the house.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Well, what of it? Do you own it?</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> No, I don't, but—</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> But you hope to. Well, I have no such mercenary motive. I'm +not after the house.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> (<i>bristling up</i>). After the house? Mercenary motive? I demand +an explanation of those words. What do you mean?</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> I mean this, Jack Barlow: I mean that I am here for—for my +own<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> reasons; but you—you have come here for the purpose of—</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<span class="smcap">Dorothy</span> <i>enters with a tray, upon which are the tea things</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> (<i>about to retort to</i> <span class="smcap">Yardsley</span>, <i>perceiving</i> <span class="smcap">Dorothy</span>). Ah! Let +me assist you.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Thank you so much. I really believe I never needed help more. +(<i>She delivers the tray to</i> <span class="smcap">Barlow</span>, <i>who sets it on the table</i>. <span class="smcap">Dorothy</span>, +<i>exhausted, drops into a chair</i>.) Fan me—quick—or I shall faint. +I've—I've had an awful time, and I really don't know what to do!</p> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> and <i>Yardsley</i> (<i>together</i>). Why, what's the matter?</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> I hope the house isn't on fire?</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Or that you haven't been robbed?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> No, no; nothing like that. It's—it's about Jennie.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>nervously</i>). Jennie? Wha—wha—what's the matter with +Jennie?</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> I only wish I knew. I—</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>aside</i>). I'm glad you don't.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> What say?</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> I didn't say anything. Why should I say anything? I haven't +anything to say. If people who had nothing to say would not insist upon +talking, you'd be—</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> I heard the poor girl weeping down-stairs, and when I went to +the dumb-waiter to ask her what was the matter, I heard—I heard a man's +voice.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Man's voice?</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Man's voice is what Miss Andrews said.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Yes; it was Hicks, our<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> coachman, and he was dreadfully angry +about something.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>sinking into chair</i>). Good Lord! Hicks! Angry! +At—something!</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> He was threatening to kill somebody.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> This grows worse and worse! Threatening to kill somebody! +D-did-did you o-over-overhear huh-huh-whom he was going to kuk-kill?</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> What's the matter with you, Yardsley? Are you going to die of +fright, or have you suddenly caught a chill?</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Oh, I hope not! Don't die here, anyhow, Mr. Yardsley. If you +must die, please go home and die. I couldn't stand another shock to-day. +Why, really, I was nearly frightened to death. I don't know now but +what<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> I ought to send for the police, Hicks was so violent.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Perhaps she and Hicks have had a lovers' quarrel.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Very likely; very likely, indeed. I think that is no doubt +the explanation of the whole trouble. Lovers will quarrel. They were +engaged, you know.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy</i> (<i>surprised</i>). No, I didn't know it. Were they? Who told you?</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>discovering his mistake</i>). Why—er—wasn't it you said so, +Miss Dorothy? Or you, Barlow?</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> I have not the honor of the young woman's confidence, and so +could not have given you the information.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> I didn't know it, so how could I have told you?</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>desperately</i>). Then I must<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> have dreamed it. I do have the +queerest dreams sometimes, but there's nothing strange about this one, +anyhow. Parlor-maids frequently do—er—become engaged to coachmen and +butlers and that sort of thing. It isn't a rare occurrence at all. If +I'd said she was engaged to Billie Wilkins, or to—to Barlow here—</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Or to yourself.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Sir? What do you mean to insinuate? That I am engaged to +Jennie?</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> I never said so.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Oh, dear, let us have the tea. You quarrelsome men are just +wearing me out. Mr. Barlow, do you want cream in yours?</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> If you please; and one lump of sugar. (<span class="smcap">Dorothy</span> <i>pours it +out</i>.) Thanks.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span><i>Dorothy.</i> Mr. Yardsley?</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Just a little, Miss Andrews. No cream, and no sugar.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<span class="smcap">Dorothy</span> <i>prepares a cup for</i> <span class="smcap">Yardsley</span>. <i>He is about to take it when</i>—</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Well, I declare! <i>It's nothing but hot water! I forgot the +tea entirely!</i></p> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> (<i>with a laugh</i>). Oh, never mind. Hot water is good for +dyspepsia.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>With a significant look at</i> <span class="smcap">Yardsley</span>.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> It depends on how you get it, Mr. Barlow. I've known men +who've got dyspepsia from living in hot water too much.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>As</i> <span class="smcap">Yardsley</span> <i>speaks the portière is violently clutched from +without, and</i> <span class="smcap">Jennie's</span> <i>head is thrust into the room. No one +observes her.</i></p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Well, my cup is very satisfactory<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> to me, Miss Dorothy. Fact +is, I've always been fond of cambric tea, and this is just right.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>patronizingly</i>). It <i>is</i> good for children.</p> + +<p><i>Jennie</i> (<i>trying to attract</i> <span class="smcap">Yardsley's</span> <i>attention</i>). Pst!</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> My mamma lets me have it Sunday nights.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Ha, ha, ha!</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Another joke? Good. Let me enjoy it, too. Hee, hee!</p> + +<p><i>Jennie.</i> Pst!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<span class="smcap">Barlow</span> <i>looks around</i>; <span class="smcap">Jennie</span> <i>hastily withdraws her head</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> I didn't know you had steam heat in this house.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> We haven't. What put such an idea as that into your head?</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Why, I thought I heard the hissing of steam, the click of a +radiator,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> or something of that sort back by the door.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Maybe the house is haunted.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> I fancy it was your imagination; or perhaps it was the wind +blowing through the hall. The pantry window is open.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> I guess maybe that's it. How fine it must be in the country +now!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<span class="smcap">Jennie</span> <i>pokes her head in through the portières again, and +follows it with her arm and hand, in which is a feather-duster, +which she waves wildly in an endeavor to attract</i> <span class="smcap">Yardsley's</span> +<i>attention</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Divine. I should so love to be out of town still. It seems to +me people always make a great mistake returning to the city so early in +the fall.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> The country is really at its best at this time of year.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<span class="smcap">Yardsley</span> <i>turns half around, and is about to speak, when he +catches sight of the now almost hysterical</i> <span class="smcap">Jennie</span> <i>and her +feather-duster</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Yes; I think so too. I was at Lenox last week, and the foliage +was gorgeous.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>feeling that he must say something</i>). Yes. I suppose all +the feathers on the maple-trees are turning red by this time.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Feathers, Mr. Yardsley?</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Feathers?</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>with a furtive glance at</i> <span class="smcap">Jennie</span>). Ha, ha! What an absurd +slip! Did I say feathers? I meant—I meant leaves, of course. All the +leaves on the dusters are turning.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> I don't believe you know<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> what you do mean. Who ever heard of +leaves on dusters? What are dusters? Do you know, Miss Dorothy?</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>As he turns to</i> <span class="smcap">Miss Andrews</span>, <span class="smcap">Yardsley</span> <i>tries to wave</i> <span class="smcap">Jennie</span> +<i>away. She beckons with her arms more wildly than ever, and</i> +<span class="smcap">Yardsley</span> <i>silently speaks the words</i>, "Go away."</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> I'm sure I don't know of any tree by that name, but then I'm +not a—not a what?</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>with a forced laugh</i>). Treeologist.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> What are dusters, Mr. Yardsley?</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Yes, old man, tell us. I'm anxious to find out myself.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>aside</i>). So am I. What the deuce are dusters, for this +occasion only? (<i>Aloud.</i>) What? Never heard of dust<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>ers? Ho! Why, dear +me, where have you been all your lives? (<i>Aside.</i>) Must gain time to +think up what dusters are. (<i>Aloud.</i>) Why, they're as old as the hills.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> That may be, but I can't say I think your description is at +all definite.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Do they look like maples?</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>with an angry wave of his arms towards</i> <span class="smcap">Jennie</span>). +Something—in fact, very much. They're exactly like them. You can hardly +tell them from oaks.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Oaks?</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> I said oaks. Oaks! O-A-K-S!</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> But oaks aren't like maples.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Well, who said they were? We were talking about +oaks—and—er<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>and dusters. We—er—we used to have a row of them in +front of our old house at—(<i>Aside.</i>) Now where the deuce did we have +the old house? Never had one, but we must for the sake of the present +situation. (<i>Aloud.</i>) Up at—at—Bryn-Mawr—or at—Troy, or some such +place, and—at—they kept the—the dust of the highway from getting into +the house. (<i>With a sigh of relief.</i>) And so, you see, they were called +dusters. Thought every one knew that.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>As</i> <span class="smcap">Yardsley</span> <i>finishes</i>, <span class="smcap">Jennie</span> <i>loses her balance and falls +headlong into the room</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy</i> (<i>starting up hastily</i>). Why, Jennie!</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>staggering into chair</i>). That settles it. It's all up with +me.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<span class="smcap">Jennie</span> <i>sobs, and, rising, rushes to</i> <span class="smcap">Yardsley's</span> <i>side</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span><i>Jennie.</i> Save yourself; he's going to kill you!</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Jennie! What is the meaning of this? Mr. Yardsley—can—can +you shed any light on this mystery?</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>pulling himself together with a great effort</i>). I? I assure +you I can't, Miss Andrews. How could I? All I know is that somebody +is—is going to kill me, though for what I haven't the slightest idea.</p> + +<p><i>Jennie</i> (<i>indignantly</i>). Eh? What? Why, Mr. Yardsley—Bob!</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Bob?</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Jennie! Bob?</p> + +<div class="figright"><img src="images/fig_006.png" alt="" /><p class="caption">"WHY, JENNIE!"</p></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span><i>Yardsley.</i> Don't you call me Bob.</p> + +<p><i>Jennie.</i> It's Hicks.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Bursts out crying.</i></p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Hicks?</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Jennie, Hicks isn't Bob. His name is George.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>in a despairing rage</i>). Hicks be—</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Mr. Yardsley!</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>pulling himself together again</i>). Bobbed. Hicks be Bobbed. +That's what I was going to say.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> What on earth does this all mean? I must have an explanation, +Jennie. What have you to say for yourself?</p> + +<p><i>Jennie.</i> Why, I—</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> I tell you it isn't true. She's made it up out of whole +cloth.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> What isn't true? She hasn't said anything yet.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>desperately</i>). I refer to what she's going to say. I'm +a—a—I'm a mind-reader, and I see it all as plain as day.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> I can best judge of the truth of Jennie's words when she has +spoken them, Mr. Yardsley. Jennie, you may explain, if you can. What do +you mean by Hicks killing Mr. Yardsley, and why do you presume to call +Mr. Yardsley by his first name?</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>aside</i>). Heigho! My goose is cooked.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> I fancy you wish you had taken that walk I suggested now.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> You always were a good deal of a fancier.</p> + +<p><i>Jennie.</i> I hardly knows how to begin, Miss Dorothy. I—I'm so +flabbergasted by all that's happened this afternoon,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> mum, that I can't +get my thoughts straight, mum.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Never mind getting your thoughts straight, Jennie. I do not +want fiction. I want the truth.</p> + +<p><i>Jennie.</i> Well, mum, when a fine gentleman like Mr. Yardsley asks—</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> I tell you it isn't so.</p> + +<p><i>Jennie.</i> Indeed he did, mum.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy</i> (<i>impatiently</i>). Did what?</p> + +<p><i>Jennie.</i> Axed me to marry him, mum.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Mr. Yardsley—asked—you—to—to marry him?</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<span class="smcap">Barlow</span> <i>whistles</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Jennie</i> (<i>bursting into tears again</i>). Yes, mum, he did, mum, right +here in this room. He got down on his knees to me on that Proossian rug +before the sofa, mum. I was standin' behind the sofa, havin' just come +in to tell him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> as how you'd be down shortly. He was standin' before the +lookin'-glass lookin' at himself, an' when I come in he turns around and +goes down on his knees and says such an importunity may not occur again, +mum; I've loved you very long; and then he recited some pottery, mum, +and said would I be his wife.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>desperately</i>). Let me explain.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Wait; Mr. Yardsley; your turn will come in a moment.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Yes, it'll be here, my boy; don't fret about that. Take all +the time you need to make it a good one. Gad! if this doesn't strain +your imagination, nothing will.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Go on, Jennie. Then what happened?</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>with an injured expression</i>). Do you expect me to stand +here, Miss<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> Andrews, and hear this girl's horrible story?</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Then you know the story, do you, Yardsley? It's horrible, and +you are innocent. My! you are a mind-reader with a vengeance.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Don't mind what these gentlemen say, Jennie, but go on.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<span class="smcap">Yardsley</span> <i>sinks into the arm-chair</i>. <span class="smcap">Barlow</span> <i>chuckles</i>; <span class="smcap">Miss +Andrews</span> <i>glances indignantly at him</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Pardon me, Mr. Barlow. If there is any humor in the +situation, I fail to see it.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> (<i>seeing his error</i>). Nor, indeed, do I. I was +not—ah—laughing from mirth. That chuckle was hysterics, Miss Dorothy, +I assure you. There are some laughs that can hardly be differentiated +from sobs.</p> + +<p><i>Jennie.</i> I was all took in a heap,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> mum, to think of a fine gentleman +like Mr. Yardsley proposing to me, mum, and I says the same. Says I, +"Oh, Mr. Yardsley, this is so suddent like," whereat he looks up with a +countenance so full o' pain that I hadn't the heart to refuse him; so, +fergettin' Hicks for the moment, I says, kind o' soft like, certingly, +sir. It ain't for the likes o' me to say no to the likes o' him.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Then you said you were engaged to Hicks. You know you did, +Jennie.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Ah! Then you admit the proposal?</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Oh, Lord! Worse and worse! I—</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Jennie has not finished her story.</p> + +<p><i>Jennie.</i> I did say as how I was engaged to Hicks, but I thought he +would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> let me off; and Mr. Yardsley looked glad when I said that, and +said he'd make it all right with Hicks.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> What? I? Jennie O'Brien, or whatever your horrible name is, +do you mean to say that I said I'd make it all right with Hicks?</p> + +<p><i>Jennie.</i> Not in them words, Mr. Yardsley; but you did say as how you'd +see him yourself and give him a present. You did indeed, Mr. Yardsley, +as you was a-standin' on that there Proossian rug.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Did you, Mr. Yardsley?</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<span class="smcap">Yardsley</span> <i>buries his face in his hands and groans</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Not so ready with your explanations now, eh?</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Mr. Barlow, really I must ask you not to interfere. Did you +say that, Mr. Yardsley?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span></p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> I did, but—</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy</i> (<i>frigidly</i>). Go on, Jennie.</p> + +<p><i>Jennie.</i> Just then the front-door bell rings and Mr. Barlow comes, and +there wasn't no more importunity for me to speak; but when I got +down-stairs into the kitchen, mum, Mr. Hicks he comes in, an' +(<i>sobs</i>)—an' I breaks with him.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> You've broken with Hicks for me?</p> + +<p><i>Jennie.</i> Yes, I have—but I wouldn't never have done it if I'd +known—boo-hoo—as how you'd behave this way an' deny ever havin' said a +word. I—I—I l-lo-love Mr. Hicks, an' I—I hate you—and I wish I'd let +him come up and kill you, as he said he would.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Jennie! Jennie! be calm! Where is Hicks now?</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> That's so. Where is Hicks? I want to see him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span><i>Jennie.</i> Never fear for that. You'll see him. He's layin' for you +outside. An' that, Miss Dorothy, is why I was a-wavin' at him an' sayin' +"pst" to him. I wanted to warn him, mum, of his danger, mum, because +Hicks is very vi'lent, and he told me in so many words as how he was +a-goin' to <i>do—him—up</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> You'd better inform Mr. Hicks, Jennie, that Mr. Yardsley is +already done up.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Do me up, eh? Well, I like that. I'm not afraid of any +coachman in creation as long as he's off the box. I'll go see him at +once.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> No—no—no. Don't, Mr. Yardsley; don't, I beg of you. I don't +want to have any scene between you.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>heroically</i>). What if he succeeds? I don't care. As Barlow +says, I'm done up as it is. I don't want<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> to live after this. What's the +use. Everything's lost.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> (<i>dryly</i>). Jennie hasn't thrown you over yet.</p> + +<p><i>Jennie</i> (<i>sniffing airily</i>). Yes, she has, too. I wouldn't marry him +now for all the world—an'—an' I've lost—lost Hicks. (<i>Weeps.</i>) Him as +was so brave, an' looks so fine in livery!</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> If you'd only give me a chance to say something—</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Appears to me you've said too much already.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy</i> (<i>coldly</i>). I—I don't agree with Mr. Barlow. You—you haven't +said enough, Mr. Yardsley. If you have any explanation to make, I'll +listen.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>looks up gratefully. Suddenly his face brightens. Aside</i>). +Gad! The very thing! I'll tell the exact truth, and if Dorothy has half +the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> sense I think she has, I'll get in my proposal right under Barlow's +very nose. (<i>Aloud.</i>) My—my explanation, Miss Andrews, is very simple. +I—ah—I cannot deny having spoken every word that Jennie has charged to +my account. I did get down on my knees on the rug. I did say "divine +creature." I did not put it strong enough. I should have said "divinest +of <i>all</i> creatures."</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy</i> (<i>in remonstrance</i>). Mr. Yardsley!</p> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> (<i>aside</i>). Magnificent bluff! But why? (<i>Rubs his forehead in a +puzzled way.</i>) What the deuce is he driving at?</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Kindly let me finish. I did say "I love you." I should have +said "I adore you; I worship you." I did say, "Will you be my wife?" and +I was going to add, "for if you will not,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> then is light turned into +darkness for me, and life, which your 'yes' will render radiantly +beautiful, will become dull, colorless, and not worth the living." That +is what I was going to say, Miss Andrews—Miss Dorothy—when—when +Jennie interrupted me and spoke the word I most wish to hear—spoke the +word "yes"; but it was not her yes that I wished. My words of love were +not for her.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> (<i>perceiving his drift</i>) Ho! Absurd! Nonsense! Most +unreasonable! You were calling the sofa the divinest of all creatures, I +suppose, or perhaps asking the—the piano to put on its shoes and—elope +with you. Preposterous!</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy</i> (<i>softly</i>). Go on, Mr. Yardsley.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> I—I spoke a little while<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> ago about sand—courage—when it +comes to one's asking the woman he loves the greatest of all questions. +I was boastful. I pretended that I had that courage; but—well, I am not +as brave as I seem. I had come, Miss Dorothy, to say to you the words +that fell on Jennie's ears, and—and I began to get +nervous—stage-fright, I suppose it was—and I was foolish enough to +rehearse what I had to say—to you, and to you alone.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Let me speak, Miss Andrews. I—</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> You haven't anything to do with the subject in hand, my dear +Barlow, not a thing.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Jennie—what—what have you to say?</p> + +<p><i>Jennie.</i> Me? Oh, mum, I hardly knows what to say! This is suddenter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +than the other; but, Miss Dorothy, I'd believe him, I would, +because—I—I think he's tellin' the truth, after all, for the reason +that—oh dear—for—</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Don't be frightened, Jennie. For what reason?</p> + +<p><i>Jennie.</i> Well, mum, for the reason that when I said "yes," mum, he +didn't act like all the other gentlemen I've said yes to, and—and +k-kuk-kiss me.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> That's it! that's it! Do you suppose that if I'd been after +Jennie's yes, and got it, I'd have let a door-bell and a sofa stand +between me and—the sealing of the proposal?</p> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> (<i>aside</i>). Oh, what nonsense this all is! I've got to get ahead +of this fellow in some way. (<i>Aloud.</i>) Well, where do I come in? I came +here, Miss Andrews, to tell you—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>interposing</i>). You come in where you came in before—just a +little late—after the proposal, as it were.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy</i> (<i>her face clearing and wreathing with smiles</i>). What a comedy +of errors it has all been! I—I believe you, Mr. Yardsley.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Thank Heaven! And—ah—you aren't going to say anything +more, D—Dorothy?</p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/fig_007.png" alt="HICKS" /><p class="caption">HICKS</p></div> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> I'm afraid—</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Are you going to make me go through that proposal all over +again, now that I've got myself into so much trouble saying it the first +time—Dorothy?</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> No, no. You needn't—you needn't speak of it again.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow</i> (<i>aside</i>). Good! That's <i>his congé</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> And—then if I—if I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> needn't say it again? What then? Can't +I have—my answer now? Oh, Miss Andrews—</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy</i> (<i>with downcast eyes, softly</i>). What did Jennie say?</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley</i> (<i>in ecstasy</i>). Do you mean it?</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> I fancy—I fancy I'd better go now, Miss—er—Miss Andrews. +I—I—have an appointment with Mr. Wilkins, and—er—I observe that it +is getting rather late.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Don't go yet, Jack. I'm not so anxious to be rid of you now.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> I must go—really.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> But I want you to make me one promise before you go.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> He'll make it, I'm sure, if I ask him. Mr. Yardsley and I +want you—want you to be our best man.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> That's it, precisely. Eh, Jack?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span><i>Barlow.</i> Well, yes. I'll be—second-best man. The events of the +afternoon have shown my capacity for that.</p> + +<p><i>Yardsley.</i> Ah!</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> And I'll show my sincerity by wearing Bob's hat and coat into +the street now and letting the fury of Hicks fall upon me.</p> + +<p><i>Jennie.</i> If you please, Miss Dorothy—I—I think I can attend to Mr. +Hicks.</p> + +<p><i>Dorothy.</i> Very well. I think that would be better. You may go, Jennie.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<span class="smcap">Jennie</span> <i>departs</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> Well, good-day. I—I've had a very pleasant afternoon, +Miss—Andrews. Thanks for the—the cambric tea.</p> + + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span><i>Dorothy.</i> Good-bye, and don't forget.</p> + +<p><i>Barlow.</i> I'm afraid—I won't. Good-bye, Bob. I congratulate you from my +heart. I was in hopes that I should have the pleasure of having you for +a best man at <i>my</i> wedding, but—er—there's many a slip, you know, and +I wish you joy.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<span class="smcap">Yardsley</span> <i>shakes him by the hand, and</i> <span class="smcap">Barlow</span> <i>goes out. As he +disappears through the portières</i> <span class="smcap">Yardsley</span> <i>follows, and, holding +the curtain aside, looks after him until the front-door is heard +closing. Then he turns about.</i> <span class="smcap">Dorothy</span> <i>looks demurely around at +him, and as he starts to go to her side the curtain falls</i>.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="big">THE END</span></p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Proposal Under Difficulties, by +John Kendrick Bangs + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A PROPOSAL UNDER DIFFICULTIES *** + +***** This file should be named 37140-h.htm or 37140-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/1/4/37140/ + +Produced by David E. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Proposal Under Difficulties + A Farce + +Author: John Kendrick Bangs + +Release Date: August 20, 2011 [EBook #37140] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A PROPOSAL UNDER DIFFICULTIES *** + + + + +Produced by David E. Brown, Bryan Ness and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) + + + + + + + + + + [Illustration: "PST!"] + + + + + A Proposal + Under Difficulties + + A Farce + + By + John Kendrick Bangs + + Illustrated + + Harper & Brothers Publishers + New York and London + 1905 + + + Copyright, 1896, by HARPER & BROTHERS. + + _All rights reserved._ + + Published September, 1905. + + + + +CAST OF CHARACTERS + + + ROBERT YARDSLEY, } _suitors for the hand of + JACK BARLOW, } Miss Andrews_. + + DOROTHY ANDREWS, _a much-loved young woman_. + + JENNIE, _a housemaid_. + + HICKS, _a coachman, who does not appear_. + + + + +A PROPOSAL UNDER DIFFICULTIES + + + _The scene is laid in a fashionable New York drawing-room. The + time is late in October, and Wednesday afternoon. The curtain + rising shows an empty room. A bell rings. After a pause the + front-door is heard opening and closing. Enter YARDSLEY through + portiere at rear of room._ + +_Yardsley._ Ah! So far so good; but I wish it were over. I've had the +nerve to get as far as the house and into it, but how much further my +courage will carry me I can't say. Confound it! Why is it, I wonder, +that men get so rattled when they're head over heels in love, and want +to ask the fair object of their affections to wed? I can't see. Now I'm +brave enough among men. I'm not afraid of anything that walks, except +Dorothy Andrews, and generally I'm not afraid of her. Stopping runaway +teams and talking back to impudent policemen have been my delight. I've +even been courageous enough to submit a poem in person to the editor of +a comic weekly, and yet here this afternoon I'm all of a tremble. And +for what reason? Just because I've co-come to ask Dorothy Andrews to +change her name to Mrs. Bob Yardsley; as if that were such an unlikely +thing for her to do. Gad! I'm almost inclined to despise myself. +(_Surveys himself in the mirror at one end of the room. Then walking up +to it and peering intently at his reflection, he continues._) Bah! you +coward! Afraid of a woman--a sweet little woman like Dorothy. You ought +to be ashamed of yourself, Bob Yardsley. _She_ won't hurt you. Brace up +and propose like a man--like a real lover who'd go through fire for her +sake, and all that. Ha! That's easy enough to talk about, but how shall +I put it? That's the question. Let me see. How _do_ men do it? I ought +to buy a few good novels and select the sort of proposal I like; but not +having a novel at hand, I must invent my own. How will it be? Something +like this, I fancy. (_The portieres are parted, and JENNIE, the maid, +enters. YARDSLEY does not observe her entrance._) I'll get down on my +knees. A man on his knees is a pitiable object, and pity, they say, is +akin to love. Maybe she'll pity me, and after that--well, perhaps pity's +cousin will arrive. (_The maid advances, but YARDSLEY is so intent +upon his proposal that he still fails to observe her. She stands back +of the sofa, while he, gazing downward, kneels before it._) I'll say: +"Divine creature! At last we are alone, and I--ah--I can speak freely +the words that have been in my heart to say to you for so long--oh, so +long a time." (_JENNIE appears surprised._) "I have never even hinted +at how I feel towards you. I have concealed my love, fearing lest by too +sudden a betrayal of my feelings I should lose all." (_Aside._) Now for +a little allusion to the poets. Poetry, they say, is a great thing for +proposals. "You know, dearest, you must know, how the poet has phrased +it--'Fain would I fall but that I fear to climb.' But now--now I must +speak. An opportunity like this may not occur again. Will you--will you +be my wife?" + + [_JENNIE gives a little scream of delight._ + + [Illustration: "'DIVINE CREATURE'"] + +_Jennie._ Oh, Mr. Yardsley, this is so suddent like and unexpected, and +me so far beneath you! + + [_YARDSLEY looks up and is covered with confusion._ + +_Yardsley._ Great Scott! What have I done? + +_Jennie._ But of course it ain't for the likes of me to say no to-- + +_Yardsley_ (_rising_). For Heaven's sake, Jennie--do be sensi-- +Don't--say--Jennie, why--ah-- (_Aside._) Oh, confound it! What the deuce +shall I say? What's the matter with my tongue? Where's my vocabulary? A +word! a word! my kingdom for a word! (_Aloud._) Now, Jen-- + +_Jennie_ (_coyly_). I has been engaged to Mr. Hicks, the coach +gentleman, sir, but-- + +_Yardsley._ Good! good! I congratulate you, Jennie. Hicks is a very fine +fellow. Drives like a--like a driver, Jennie, a born driver. I've seen +him many a time sitting like a king on his box--yes, indeed. Noticed him +often. Admired him. Gad, Jennie, I'll see him myself and tell him; and +what is more, Jennie, I'll--I'll give Hicks a fine present. + +_Jennie._ Yes, sir; I has no doubt as how you'll be doin' the square +thing by Hicks, for, as I was a-sayin', I has been engaged like to him, +an' he has some rights; but I think as how, if I puts it to him right +like, and tells him what a nice gentleman you are (_a ring is heard at +the front-door_), it'll be all right, sir. But there goes the bell and I +must run, Mr. Yardsley. (_Ecstatically kissing her hand._) Bob! + +_Yardsley_ (_with a convulsive gasp_). Bob? Jennie! You--er--you +misun--(_JENNIE, with a smile of joy and an ecstatic glance at +YARDSLEY, dances from the room to attend the door. YARDSLEY throws +himself into a chair._) Well, I'll be teetotally--Awh! It's too dead +easy proposing to somebody you don't know you are proposing to. What a +kettle of fish this is, to be sure! Oh, pshaw! that woman can't be +serious. She must know I didn't mean it for her. But if she doesn't, +good Lord! what becomes of me? (_Rises, and paces up and down the room +nervously. After a moment he pauses before the glass._) I ought to be +considerably dishevelled by this. I feel as if I'd been drawn through a +knot-hole--or--or dropped into a stone-crusher--that's it, a +stone-crusher--a ten-million horse-power stone-crusher. Let's see how +you look, you poor idiot. + + [_As he is stroking his hair and rearranging his tie he talks in + pantomime at himself in the glass. In a moment JENNIE ushers + MR. JACK BARLOW into the room._ + +_Jennie._ Miss Andrews will be down in a minute, sir. + + [_BARLOW takes arm-chair and sits gazing ahead of him. Neither he + nor YARDSLEY perceives the other. JENNIE tiptoes to one side, + and, tossing a kiss at YARDSLEY, retires._ + +_Barlow._ Now for it. I shall leave this house to-day the happiest or +the most miserable man in creation, and I rather think the odds are in +my favor. Why shouldn't they be? Egad! I can very well understand how a +woman could admire me. I admire myself, rather. I confess candidly that +I do not consider myself half bad, and Dorothy has always seemed to feel +that way herself. In fact, the other night in the Perkinses' +conservatory she seemed to be quite ready for a proposal. I'd have done +it then and there if it hadn't been for that confounded Bob Yardsley-- + +_Yardsley_ (_turning sharply about_). Eh? Somebody spoke my name. A man, +too. Great Heavens! I hope Jennie's friend Hicks isn't here. I don't +want to have a scene with Hicks. (_Discovering BARLOW._) +Oh--ah--why--hullo, Barlow! You here? + +_Barlow_ (_impatiently, aside_). Hang it! Yardsley's here too! The man's +always turning up when he's not wanted. (_Aloud._) Ah! why, Bob, how are +you? What're you doing here? + +_Yardsley._ What do you suppose--tuning the piano? I'm here because I +want to be. And you? + +_Barlow._ For the same reason that you are. + +_Yardsley_ (_aside_). Gad! I hope not. (_Aloud._) Indeed? The great +mind act again? Run in the same channel, and all that? Glad to see you. +(_Aside._) May the saints forgive me that fib! But this fellow must be +got rid of. + +_Barlow_ (_embarrassed_). So'm I. Always glad to see myself--I mean +you--anywhere. Won't you sit down? + +_Yardsley._ Thanks. Very kind of you, I'm sure. (_Aside._) He seems very +much at home. Won't I sit down?--as if he'd inherited the chairs! Humph! +I'll show him. + +_Barlow._ What say? + +_Yardsley._ I--ah--oh, I was merely remarking that I thought it was +rather pleasant out to-day. + +_Barlow._ Yes, almost too fine to be shut up in-doors. Why aren't you +driving, or--or playing golf, or--ah--or being out-doors somewhere? You +need exercise, old man; you look a little pale. (_Aside._) I must get +him away from here somehow. Deuced awkward having another fellow about +when you mean to propose to a woman. + +_Yardsley._ Oh, I'm well enough! + +_Barlow_ (_solicitously_). You don't look it--by Jove, you don't. +(_Suddenly inspired._) No, you don't, Bob. You overestimate your +strength. It's very wrong to overestimate one's strength. +People--ah--people have died of it. Why, I'll bet you a hat you can't +start now and walk up to Central Park and back in an hour. Come. I'll +time you. (_Rises and takes out watch._) It is now four-ten. I'll wager +you can't get back here before five-thirty. Eh? Let me get your hat. + + [_Starts for door._ + +_Yardsley_ (_with a laugh_). Oh no; I don't bet--after four. But I say, +did you see Billie Wilkins? + +_Barlow_ (_returning in despair_). Nope. + +_Yardsley_ (_aside_). Now for a bit of strategy. (_Aloud._) He was +looking for you at the club. (_Aside._) Splendid lie! (_Aloud._) Had +seats for the--ah--the Metropolitan to-night. Said he was looking for +you. Wants you to go with him. (_Aside._) That ought to start him along. + +_Barlow._ I'll go with him. + + [Illustration: "I'LL TIME YOU"] + +_Yardsley_ (_eagerly_). Well, you'd better let him know at once, then. +Better run around there and catch him while there's time. He said if he +didn't see you before half-past four he'd get Tom Parker to go. Fine +show to-night. Wouldn't lose the opportunity if I were you. (_Looking at +his watch._) You'll just about have time to do it now if you start at +once. + + [_Grasps BARLOW by arm, and tries to force him out. BARLOW + holds back, and is about to remonstrate, when DOROTHY enters. + Both men rush to greet her; YARDSLEY catches her left hand, + BARLOW her right._ + +_Dorothy_ (_slightly embarrassed_). Why, how do you do--this is an +unexpected pleasure--both of you? Excuse my left hand, Mr. Yardsley; I +should have given you the other if--if you'd given me time. + +_Yardsley._ Don't mention it, I pray. The unexpectedness is wholly mine, +Miss Andrews--I mean--ah--the pleasure is-- + +_Barlow._ Wholly mine. + +_Dorothy_ (_withdrawing her hands from both and sitting down_). I +haven't seen either of you since the Perkinses' dance. Wasn't it a +charming affair? + + [Illustration: "START AT ONCE"] + +_Yardsley._ Delightful I--ah--I didn't know that the Perkinses-- + +_Barlow_ (_interrupting_). It was a good deal of a crush, though. As +Mrs. Van Darling said to me, "You always meet--" + +_Yardsley._ It's a pity Perkins isn't more of a society man, though, +don't you think? + +_Dorothy._ Oh, I don't know. I've always found him very pleasant. He is +so sincere. + +_Barlow._ Isn't he, though? He looked bored to death all through the +dance. + +_Yardsley._ I thought so too. I was watching him while you were talking +to him, Barlow, and such a look of ennui I never saw on a man's face. + +_Barlow._ Humph! + +_Dorothy._ Are you going to Mrs. Van Darling's dinner? + +_Barlow._ Yes; I received my bid last night. You? + +_Dorothy._ Oh yes! + +_Yardsley_ (_gloomily_). I can't go very well. I'm--ah--engaged for +Tuesday. + +_Barlow._ Well, I hope you've let Mrs. Van Darling know. She's a +stickler for promptness in accepting or declining her invitations. If +you haven't, I'll tell her for you. I'm to see her to-night. + +_Yardsley._ Oh no! Never mind. I'll--I'll attend to it. + +_Barlow._ Oh, of course. But it's just as well she should know in +advance. You might forget it, you know. I'll tell her; it's no trouble +to me. + +_Dorothy._ Of course not, and she can get some one to take your place. + +_Yardsley_ (_desperately_). Oh, don't say anything about it. Fact is, +she--ah--she hasn't invited me. + +_Barlow._ Ah! (_Aside._) I knew that all along. Oh, but I'm clever! + +_Dorothy_ (_hastily, to relieve YARDSLEY'S embarrassment_). Have you +seen Irving, Mr. Yardsley? + +_Yardsley._ Yes. + +_Barlow_ (_suspiciously_). What in? I haven't seen you at any of the +first nights. + +_Yardsley_ (_with a grin_). In the grill-room at the Players'. + +_Barlow_ (_aside_). Bah! + +_Dorothy_ (_laughing_). You are so bright, Mr. Yardsley. + +_Barlow_ (_forcing a laugh_). Ha, ha, ha! Why, yes--very clever that. It +ought to have a Gibson picture over it, that joke. It would help it. +Those Gibson pictures are fine, I think. Carry any kind of joke, eh? + +_Yardsley._ Yes, they frequently do. + +_Dorothy._ I'm so glad you both like Gibson, for I just dote on him. I +have one of his originals in my portfolio. I'll get it if you'd like to +see it. + + [_She rises and goes to the corner of the room, where there + stands a portfolio-case._ + +_Yardsley_ (_aside_). What a bore Barlow is! Hang him! I must get rid of +him somehow. + + [_BARLOW meanwhile is assisting DOROTHY._ + +_Yardsley_ (_looking around at the others_). Jove! he's off in the +corner with her. Can't allow that, for the fact is Barlow's just a bit +dangerous--to me. + +_Dorothy_ (_rummaging through portfolio_). Why, it _was_ here-- + +_Barlow._ Maybe it's in this other portfolio. + +_Yardsley_ (_joining them_). Yes, maybe it is. That's a good idea. If it +isn't in one portfolio maybe it's in another. Clever thought! I may be +bright, Miss Andrews, but you must have observed that Barlow is +thoughtful. + +_Dorothy_ (_with a glance at BARLOW_). Yes, Mr. Yardsley, I have noticed +the latter. + +_Barlow._ Tee-hee! that's one on you, Bob. + +_Yardsley_ (_obtuse_). Ha, ha! Yes. Why, of course! Ha, ha, ha! For +repartee I have always said--polite repartee, of course--Miss Andrews +is--(_Aside._) Now what the dickens did she mean by that? + +_Dorothy._ I can't find it here. Let--me think. Where--can--it--be? + +_Barlow_ (_striking thoughtful attitude_). Yes, where can it be? Let me +do your thinking for you, Miss Dorothy. (_Then softly to her._) Always! + +_Yardsley_ (_mocking BARLOW_). Yes! Let _me_ think! (_Points his finger +at his forehead and assumes tragic attitude. Then stalks to the front of +stage in manner of burlesque Hamlet._) Come, thought, come. Shed the +glory of thy greatness full on me, and thus confound mine enemies. +Where the deuce is that Gibson? + +_Dorothy._ Oh, I remember. It's upstairs. I took it up with me last +night. I'll ring for Jennie, and have her get it. + +_Yardsley_ (_aside, and in consternation_). Jennie! Oh, thunder! I'd +forgotten her. I do hope she remembers not to forget herself. + +_Barlow._ What say? + +_Yardsley._ Nothing; only--ah--only that I thought it was very--very +pleasant out. + +_Barlow._ That's what you said before. + +_Yardsley_ (_indignantly_). Well, what of it? It's the truth. If you +don't believe it, go outside and see for yourself. + + [_JENNIE appears at the door in response to DOROTHY'S ring. + She glances demurely at YARDSLEY, who tries to ignore her + presence._ + +_Dorothy._ Jennie, go up to my room and look on the table in the corner, +and bring me down the portfolio you will find there. The large brown one +that belongs in the stand over there. + +_Jennie_ (_dazed_). Yessum. And shall I be bringin' lemons with it? + +_Dorothy._ Lemons, Jennie? + +_Jennie._ You always does have lemons with your tea, mum. + +_Dorothy._ I didn't mention tea. I want you to get my portfolio from +upstairs. It is on the table in the corner of my room. + + [_Looks at JENNIE in surprise._ + +_Jennie._ Oh, excuse me, mum. I didn't hear straight. + + [_She casts a languishing glance at YARDSLEY and disappears._ + +_Yardsley_ (_noting the glance, presumably aside_). Confound that +Jennie! + +_Barlow_ (_overhearing YARDSLEY_). What's that? Confound that Jennie? +Why say confound that Jennie? Why do you wish Jennie to be confounded? + +_Yardsley_ (_nervously_). I didn't say that. I--ah--I merely said +that--that Jennie appeared to be--ah--confounded. + +_Dorothy._ She certainly is confused. I cannot understand it at all. +Ordinarily I have rather envied Jennie her composure. + +_Yardsley._ Oh, I suppose--it's--it's--it's natural for a young girl--a +servant--sometimes to lose her--equipoise, as it were, on occasions. If +we lose ours at times, why not Jennie? Eh? Huh? + +_Barlow._ Certainly. + +_Yardsley._ Of course--ha--trained servants are hard to get these days, +anyhow. Educated people--ah--go into other professions, such as law, +and--ah--the ministry--and-- + +_Dorothy._ Well, never mind. Let's talk of something more interesting +than Jennie. Going to the Chrysanthemum Show, Mr. Barlow? + +_Barlow._ I am; wouldn't miss it for the world. Do you know, really now, +the chrysanthemum, in my opinion, is the most human-looking flower we +have. The rose is too beautiful, too perfect, for me. The chrysanthemum, +on the other hand-- + +_Yardsley_ (_interrupting_). Looks so like a football-player's head it +appeals to your sympathies? Well, perhaps you are right. I never thought +of it in that light before, but-- + +_Dorothy_ (_smiling_). Nor I; but now that you mention it, it does look +that way, doesn't it? + +_Barlow_ (_not wishing to disagree with DOROTHY_). Very much. Droll +idea, though. Just like Bob, eh? Very, very droll. Bob's always dro-- + +_Yardsley_ (_interrupting_). When I see a man walking down the avenue +with a chrysanthemum in his button-hole, I always think of a wild Indian +wearing a scalp for decorative purposes. + + [_BARLOW and DOROTHY laugh at this, and during their mirth + JENNIE enters with the portfolio. She hands it to DOROTHY. + DOROTHY rests it on the arm of her chair, and, BARLOW looking + over one shoulder, she goes through it. JENNIE in passing out + throws another kiss to YARDSLEY._ + +_Yardsley_ (_under his breath, stamping his foot_). Awgh! + +_Barlow._ What say? + + [_DOROTHY looks up, surprised._ + +_Yardsley._ I--I didn't say anything. My--ah--my shoe had a piece +of--ah-- + +_Barlow._ Oh, say lint, and be done with it. + +_Yardsley_ (_relieved, and thankful for the suggestion_). Why, how did +you know? It did, you know. Had a piece of lint on it, and I tried to +get it off by stamping, that's all. + +_Dorothy._ Ah, here it is. + +_Yardsley._ What? The lint? + +_Barlow._ Ho! Is the world nothing but lint to you? Of course not--the +Gibson. Charming, isn't it, Miss Dorothy? + +_Dorothy_ (_holding the picture up_). Fine. Just look at that girl. +Isn't she pretty? + +_Barlow._ Very. + +_Dorothy._ And such style, too. + + [Illustration: "CHARMING, ISN'T IT?"] + +_Yardsley_ (_looking over DOROTHY'S other shoulder_). Yes, very +pretty, and lots of style. (_Softly._) Very--like some one--some one I +know. + +_Barlow_ (_overhearing_). I think so myself, Yardsley. It's exactly +like Josie Wilkins. By-the-way--ah--how is that little affair coming +along, Bob? + +_Dorothy_ (_interested_). What! You don't mean to say--Why, _Mister_ +Yardsley! + +_Yardsley_ (_with a venomous glance at BARLOW_). Nonsense. Nothing in +it. Mere invention of Barlow's. He's a regular Edison in his own way. + + [_DOROTHY looks inquiringly at BARLOW._ + +_Barlow_ (_to YARDSLEY_). Oh, don't be so sly about it, old fellow! +_Every_body knows. + +_Yardsley._ But I tell you there's nothing in it. I--I have different +ideas entirely, and you--you know it--or, if you don't, you will +shortly. + +_Dorothy._ Oh! Then it's some one else, Mr. Yardsley? Well, now I _am_ +interested. Let's have a little confidential talk together. Tell _us_, +Mr. Yardsley, tell Mr. Barlow and me, and maybe--I can't say for +certain, of course--but maybe we can help you. + +_Barlow_ (_gleefully rubbing his hands_). Yes, old man; certainly. Maybe +we--_we_ can help you. + +_Yardsley_ (_desperately_). You can help me, both of you--but--but I +can't very well tell you how. + +_Barlow._ I'm willing to do all I can for you, my dear Bob. If you will +only tell us her name I'll even go so far as to call, in your behalf, +and propose for you. + +_Yardsley._ Oh, thanks. You are very kind. + +_Dorothy._ I think so too, Mr. Barlow. You are almost too kind, it seems +to me. + +_Yardsley._ Oh no; not too kind, Miss Andrews. Barlow simply realizes +that one who has proposed marriage to young girls as frequently as he +has knows how the thing is done, and he wishes to give me the benefit of +his experience. (_Aside._) That's a facer for Barlow. + +_Barlow._ Ha, ha, ha! Another joke, I suppose. You see, my dear Bob, +that I am duly appreciative. I laugh. Ha, ha, ha! But I must say I laugh +with some uncertainty. I don't know whether you intended that for a joke +or for a staggerer. You should provide your conversation with a series +of printed instructions for the listener. Get a lot of cards, and have +printed on one, "Please laugh"; on another, "Please stagger"; on +another, "Kindly appear confused." Then when you mean to be jocose hand +over the laughter card, and so on. Shall I stagger? + +_Dorothy._ I think that Mr. Yardsley meant that for a joke. Didn't you, +Mr. Yardsley? + +_Yardsley._ Why, certainly. Of course. I don't really believe Barlow +ever had sand enough to propose to any one. Did you, Jack? + +_Barlow_ (_indignant_). Well, I rather think I have. + +_Dorothy._ Ho, ho! Then you _are_ an experienced proposer, Mr. Barlow? + +_Barlow_ (_confused_). Why--er--well--um--I didn't exactly mean that, +you know. I meant that--ah--if it ever came to the--er--the test, I +think I could--I'd have sand enough, as Yardsley puts it, to do the +thing properly, and without making a--ah--a Yardsley of myself. + +_Yardsley_ (_bristling up_). Now what do you mean by that? + +_Dorothy._ I think you are both of you horrid this afternoon. You are so +quarrelsome. Do you two always quarrel, or is this merely a little +afternoon's diversion got up for my especial benefit? + +_Barlow_ (_with dignity_). I never quarrel. + +_Yardsley._ Nor I. I simply differ sometimes, that's all. I never had an +unpleasant word with Jack in my life. Did I, Jack? + +_Barlow._ Never. I always avoid a fracas, however great the provocation. + +_Dorothy_ (_desperately_). Then let us have a cup of tea together +and be more sociable. I have always noticed that tea promotes +sociability--haven't you, Mr. Yardsley? + +_Yardsley._ Always. (_Aside._) Among women. + +_Barlow._ What say? + + [_DOROTHY rises and rings the bell for JENNIE._ + +_Yardsley._ I say that I am very fond of tea. + +_Barlow._ So am I--here. + + [_Rises and looks at pictures. YARDSLEY meanwhile sits in moody + silence._ + +_Dorothy_ (_returning_). You seem to have something on your mind, Mr. +Yardsley. I never knew you to be so solemn before. + +_Yardsley._ I have something on my mind, Miss Dorothy. It's-- + +_Barlow_ (_coming forward_). Wise man, cold weather like this. It would +be terrible if you let your mind go out in cold weather without anything +on it. Might catch cold in your idea. + +_Dorothy._ I wonder why Jennie doesn't come? I shall have to ring again. + + [_Pushes electric button again._ + +_Yardsley_ (_with an effort at brilliance_). The kitchen belle doesn't +seem to work. + +_Dorothy._ Ordinarily she does, but she seems to be upset by something +this afternoon. I'm afraid she's in love. If you will excuse me a moment +I will go and prepare the tea myself. + +_Barlow._ Do; good! Then we shall not need the sugar. + +_Yardsley._ You might omit the spoons too, after a remark like that, +Miss Dorothy. + +_Dorothy._ We'll omit Mr. Barlow's spoon. I'll bring some for you and +me. + + [_She goes out._ + +_Yardsley_ (_with a laugh_). That's one on you, Barlow. But I say, old +man (_taking out his watch and snapping the cover to three or four +times_), it's getting very late--after five now. If you want to go with +Billie Wilkins you'd better take up your hat and walk. I'll say good-bye +to Miss Andrews for you. + +_Barlow._ Thanks. Too late now. You said Billie wouldn't wait after +four-thirty. + +_Yardsley._ Did I say four-thirty? I meant five-thirty. Anyhow, Billie +isn't over-prompt. Better go. + +_Barlow._ You seem mighty anxious to get rid of me. + +_Yardsley._ I? Not at all, my dear boy--not at all. I'm very, very fond +of you, but I thought you'd prefer opera to me. Don't you see? That's +where my modesty comes in. You're so fond of a good chat I thought you'd +want to go to-night. Wilkins has a box. + +_Barlow._ You said seats a little while ago. + +_Yardsley._ Of course I did. And why not? There are seats in boxes. +Didn't you know that? + +_Barlow._ Look here, Yardsley, what's up, anyhow? You've been deuced +queer to-day. What are you after? + + [Illustration: "WHAT'S UP, ANYHOW?"] + +_Yardsley_ (_tragically_). Shall I confide in you? Can I, with a sense +of confidence that you will not betray me? + +_Barlow_ (_eagerly_). Yes, Bob. Go on. What is it? I'll never give you +away, and I _may_ be able to give you some good advice. + +_Yardsley._ I am here to--to--to rob the house! Business has been bad, +and one must live. + + [_BARLOW looks at him in disgust._ + +_Yardsley_ (_mockingly_). You have my secret, John Barlow. Remember that +it was wrung from me in confidence. You must not betray me. Turn your +back while I surreptitiously remove the piano and the gas-fixtures, +won't you? + +_Barlow_ (_looking at him thoughtfully_). Yardsley, I have done you an +injustice. + +_Yardsley._ Indeed? + +_Barlow._ Yes. Some one claimed, at the club, the other day, that you +were the biggest donkey in existence, and I denied it. I was wrong, old +man, I was wrong, and I apologize. You are. + +_Yardsley._ You are too modest, Jack. You forget--yourself. + +_Barlow._ Well, perhaps I do; but I've nothing to conceal, and you have. +You've been behaving in a most incomprehensible fashion this afternoon, +as if you owned the house. + +_Yardsley._ Well, what of it? Do you own it? + +_Barlow._ No, I don't, but-- + +_Yardsley._ But you hope to. Well, I have no such mercenary motive. I'm +not after the house. + +_Barlow_ (_bristling up_). After the house? Mercenary motive? I demand +an explanation of those words. What do you mean? + +_Yardsley._ I mean this, Jack Barlow: I mean that I am here for--for my +own reasons; but you--you have come here for the purpose of-- + + [_DOROTHY enters with a tray, upon which are the tea things._ + +_Barlow_ (_about to retort to YARDSLEY, perceiving DOROTHY_). Ah! Let +me assist you. + +_Dorothy._ Thank you so much. I really believe I never needed help more. +(_She delivers the tray to BARLOW, who sets it on the table. DOROTHY, +exhausted, drops into a chair._) Fan me--quick--or I shall faint. +I've--I've had an awful time, and I really don't know what to do! + +_Barlow_ and _Yardsley_ (_together_). Why, what's the matter? + +_Yardsley._ I hope the house isn't on fire? + +_Barlow._ Or that you haven't been robbed? + +_Dorothy._ No, no; nothing like that. It's--it's about Jennie. + +_Yardsley_ (_nervously_). Jennie? Wha--wha--what's the matter with +Jennie? + +_Dorothy._ I only wish I knew. I-- + +_Yardsley_ (_aside_). I'm glad you don't. + +_Barlow._ What say? + +_Yardsley._ I didn't say anything. Why should I say anything? I haven't +anything to say. If people who had nothing to say would not insist upon +talking, you'd be-- + +_Dorothy._ I heard the poor girl weeping down-stairs, and when I went to +the dumb-waiter to ask her what was the matter, I heard--I heard a man's +voice. + +_Yardsley._ Man's voice? + +_Barlow._ Man's voice is what Miss Andrews said. + +_Dorothy._ Yes; it was Hicks, our coachman, and he was dreadfully angry +about something. + +_Yardsley_ (_sinking into chair_). Good Lord! Hicks! Angry! +At--something! + +_Dorothy._ He was threatening to kill somebody. + +_Yardsley._ This grows worse and worse! Threatening to kill somebody! +D-did-did you o-over-overhear huh-huh-whom he was going to kuk-kill? + +_Barlow._ What's the matter with you, Yardsley? Are you going to die of +fright, or have you suddenly caught a chill? + +_Dorothy._ Oh, I hope not! Don't die here, anyhow, Mr. Yardsley. If you +must die, please go home and die. I couldn't stand another shock to-day. +Why, really, I was nearly frightened to death. I don't know now but +what I ought to send for the police, Hicks was so violent. + +_Barlow._ Perhaps she and Hicks have had a lovers' quarrel. + +_Yardsley._ Very likely; very likely, indeed. I think that is no doubt +the explanation of the whole trouble. Lovers will quarrel. They were +engaged, you know. + +_Dorothy_ (_surprised_). No, I didn't know it. Were they? Who told you? + +_Yardsley_ (_discovering his mistake_). Why--er--wasn't it you said so, +Miss Dorothy? Or you, Barlow? + +_Barlow._ I have not the honor of the young woman's confidence, and so +could not have given you the information. + +_Dorothy._ I didn't know it, so how could I have told you? + +_Yardsley_ (_desperately_). Then I must have dreamed it. I do have the +queerest dreams sometimes, but there's nothing strange about this one, +anyhow. Parlor-maids frequently do--er--become engaged to coachmen and +butlers and that sort of thing. It isn't a rare occurrence at all. If +I'd said she was engaged to Billie Wilkins, or to--to Barlow here-- + +_Barlow._ Or to yourself. + +_Yardsley._ Sir? What do you mean to insinuate? That I am engaged to +Jennie? + +_Barlow._ I never said so. + +_Dorothy._ Oh, dear, let us have the tea. You quarrelsome men are just +wearing me out. Mr. Barlow, do you want cream in yours? + +_Barlow._ If you please; and one lump of sugar. (_DOROTHY pours it +out._) Thanks. + +_Dorothy._ Mr. Yardsley? + +_Yardsley._ Just a little, Miss Andrews. No cream, and no sugar. + + [_DOROTHY prepares a cup for YARDSLEY. He is about to take it when--_ + +_Dorothy._ Well, I declare! _It's nothing but hot water! I forgot the +tea entirely!_ + +_Barlow_ (_with a laugh_). Oh, never mind. Hot water is good for +dyspepsia. + + [_With a significant look at YARDSLEY._ + +_Yardsley._ It depends on how you get it, Mr. Barlow. I've known men +who've got dyspepsia from living in hot water too much. + + [_As YARDSLEY speaks the portiere is violently clutched from + without, and JENNIE'S head is thrust into the room. No one + observes her._ + +_Barlow._ Well, my cup is very satisfactory to me, Miss Dorothy. Fact +is, I've always been fond of cambric tea, and this is just right. + +_Yardsley_ (_patronizingly_). It _is_ good for children. + +_Jennie_ (_trying to attract YARDSLEY'S attention_). Pst! + +_Yardsley._ My mamma lets me have it Sunday nights. + +_Dorothy._ Ha, ha, ha! + +_Barlow._ Another joke? Good. Let me enjoy it, too. Hee, hee! + +_Jennie._ Pst! + + [_BARLOW looks around; JENNIE hastily withdraws her head._ + +_Barlow._ I didn't know you had steam heat in this house. + +_Dorothy._ We haven't. What put such an idea as that into your head? + +_Barlow._ Why, I thought I heard the hissing of steam, the click of a +radiator, or something of that sort back by the door. + +_Yardsley._ Maybe the house is haunted. + +_Dorothy._ I fancy it was your imagination; or perhaps it was the wind +blowing through the hall. The pantry window is open. + +_Barlow._ I guess maybe that's it. How fine it must be in the country +now! + + [_JENNIE pokes her head in through the portieres again, and + follows it with her arm and hand, in which is a feather-duster, + which she waves wildly in an endeavor to attract YARDSLEY'S + attention._ + +_Dorothy._ Divine. I should so love to be out of town still. It seems to +me people always make a great mistake returning to the city so early in +the fall. The country is really at its best at this time of year. + + [_YARDSLEY turns half around, and is about to speak, when he + catches sight of the now almost hysterical JENNIE and her + feather-duster._ + +_Barlow._ Yes; I think so too. I was at Lenox last week, and the foliage +was gorgeous. + +_Yardsley_ (_feeling that he must say something_). Yes. I suppose all +the feathers on the maple-trees are turning red by this time. + +_Dorothy._ Feathers, Mr. Yardsley? + +_Barlow._ Feathers? + +_Yardsley_ (_with a furtive glance at JENNIE_). Ha, ha! What an absurd +slip! Did I say feathers? I meant--I meant leaves, of course. All the +leaves on the dusters are turning. + +_Barlow._ I don't believe you know what you do mean. Who ever heard of +leaves on dusters? What are dusters? Do you know, Miss Dorothy? + + [_As he turns to MISS ANDREWS, YARDSLEY tries to wave JENNIE + away. She beckons with her arms more wildly than ever, and + YARDSLEY silently speaks the words_, "Go away." + +_Dorothy._ I'm sure I don't know of any tree by that name, but then I'm +not a--not a what? + +_Yardsley_ (_with a forced laugh_). Treeologist. + +_Dorothy._ What are dusters, Mr. Yardsley? + +_Barlow._ Yes, old man, tell us. I'm anxious to find out myself. + +_Yardsley_ (_aside_). So am I. What the deuce are dusters, for this +occasion only? (_Aloud._) What? Never heard of dusters? Ho! Why, dear +me, where have you been all your lives? (_Aside._) Must gain time to +think up what dusters are. (_Aloud._) Why, they're as old as the hills. + +_Barlow._ That may be, but I can't say I think your description is at +all definite. + +_Dorothy._ Do they look like maples? + +_Yardsley_ (_with an angry wave of his arms towards JENNIE_). +Something--in fact, very much. They're exactly like them. You can hardly +tell them from oaks. + +_Barlow._ Oaks? + +_Yardsley._ I said oaks. Oaks! O-A-K-S! + +_Barlow._ But oaks aren't like maples. + +_Yardsley._ Well, who said they were? We were talking about +oaks--and--erand dusters. We--er--we used to have a row of them in +front of our old house at--(_Aside._) Now where the deuce did we have +the old house? Never had one, but we must for the sake of the present +situation. (_Aloud._) Up at--at--Bryn-Mawr--or at--Troy, or some such +place, and--at--they kept the--the dust of the highway from getting into +the house. (_With a sigh of relief._) And so, you see, they were called +dusters. Thought every one knew that. + + [_As YARDSLEY finishes, JENNIE loses her balance and falls + headlong into the room._ + +_Dorothy_ (_starting up hastily_). Why, Jennie! + +_Yardsley_ (_staggering into chair_). That settles it. It's all up with +me. + + [_JENNIE sobs, and, rising, rushes to YARDSLEY'S side._ + +_Jennie._ Save yourself; he's going to kill you! + +_Dorothy._ Jennie! What is the meaning of this? Mr. Yardsley--can--can +you shed any light on this mystery? + +_Yardsley_ (_pulling himself together with a great effort_). I? I assure +you I can't, Miss Andrews. How could I? All I know is that somebody +is--is going to kill me, though for what I haven't the slightest idea. + +_Jennie_ (_indignantly_). Eh? What? Why, Mr. Yardsley--Bob! + +_Barlow._ Bob? + +_Dorothy._ Jennie! Bob? + + [Illustration: "WHY, JENNIE!"] + +_Yardsley._ Don't you call me Bob. + +_Jennie._ It's Hicks. + + [_Bursts out crying._ + +_Barlow._ Hicks? + +_Dorothy._ Jennie, Hicks isn't Bob. His name is George. + +_Yardsley_ (_in a despairing rage_). Hicks be-- + +_Dorothy._ Mr. Yardsley! + +_Yardsley_ (_pulling himself together again_). Bobbed. Hicks be Bobbed. +That's what I was going to say. + +_Dorothy._ What on earth does this all mean? I must have an explanation, +Jennie. What have you to say for yourself? + +_Jennie._ Why, I-- + +_Yardsley._ I tell you it isn't true. She's made it up out of whole +cloth. + +_Barlow._ What isn't true? She hasn't said anything yet. + +_Yardsley_ (_desperately_). I refer to what she's going to say. I'm +a--a--I'm a mind-reader, and I see it all as plain as day. + +_Dorothy._ I can best judge of the truth of Jennie's words when she has +spoken them, Mr. Yardsley. Jennie, you may explain, if you can. What do +you mean by Hicks killing Mr. Yardsley, and why do you presume to call +Mr. Yardsley by his first name? + +_Yardsley_ (_aside_). Heigho! My goose is cooked. + +_Barlow._ I fancy you wish you had taken that walk I suggested now. + +_Yardsley._ You always were a good deal of a fancier. + +_Jennie._ I hardly knows how to begin, Miss Dorothy. I--I'm so +flabbergasted by all that's happened this afternoon, mum, that I can't +get my thoughts straight, mum. + +_Dorothy._ Never mind getting your thoughts straight, Jennie. I do not +want fiction. I want the truth. + +_Jennie._ Well, mum, when a fine gentleman like Mr. Yardsley asks-- + +_Yardsley._ I tell you it isn't so. + +_Jennie._ Indeed he did, mum. + +_Dorothy_ (_impatiently_). Did what? + +_Jennie._ Axed me to marry him, mum. + +_Dorothy._ Mr. Yardsley--asked--you--to--to marry him? + + [_BARLOW whistles._ + +_Jennie_ (_bursting into tears again_). Yes, mum, he did, mum, right +here in this room. He got down on his knees to me on that Proossian rug +before the sofa, mum. I was standin' behind the sofa, havin' just come +in to tell him as how you'd be down shortly. He was standin' before the +lookin'-glass lookin' at himself, an' when I come in he turns around and +goes down on his knees and says such an importunity may not occur again, +mum; I've loved you very long; and then he recited some pottery, mum, +and said would I be his wife. + +_Yardsley_ (_desperately_). Let me explain. + +_Dorothy._ Wait; Mr. Yardsley; your turn will come in a moment. + +_Barlow._ Yes, it'll be here, my boy; don't fret about that. Take all +the time you need to make it a good one. Gad! if this doesn't strain +your imagination, nothing will. + +_Dorothy._ Go on, Jennie. Then what happened? + +_Yardsley_ (_with an injured expression_). Do you expect me to stand +here, Miss Andrews, and hear this girl's horrible story? + +_Barlow._ Then you know the story, do you, Yardsley? It's horrible, and +you are innocent. My! you are a mind-reader with a vengeance. + +_Dorothy._ Don't mind what these gentlemen say, Jennie, but go on. + + [_YARDSLEY sinks into the arm-chair. BARLOW chuckles; MISS + ANDREWS glances indignantly at him._ + +_Dorothy._ Pardon me, Mr. Barlow. If there is any humor in the +situation, I fail to see it. + +_Barlow_ (_seeing his error_). Nor, indeed, do I. I was +not--ah--laughing from mirth. That chuckle was hysterics, Miss Dorothy, +I assure you. There are some laughs that can hardly be differentiated +from sobs. + +_Jennie._ I was all took in a heap, mum, to think of a fine gentleman +like Mr. Yardsley proposing to me, mum, and I says the same. Says I, +"Oh, Mr. Yardsley, this is so suddent like," whereat he looks up with a +countenance so full o' pain that I hadn't the heart to refuse him; so, +fergettin' Hicks for the moment, I says, kind o' soft like, certingly, +sir. It ain't for the likes o' me to say no to the likes o' him. + +_Yardsley._ Then you said you were engaged to Hicks. You know you did, +Jennie. + +_Barlow._ Ah! Then you admit the proposal? + +_Yardsley._ Oh, Lord! Worse and worse! I-- + +_Dorothy._ Jennie has not finished her story. + +_Jennie._ I did say as how I was engaged to Hicks, but I thought he +would let me off; and Mr. Yardsley looked glad when I said that, and +said he'd make it all right with Hicks. + +_Yardsley._ What? I? Jennie O'Brien, or whatever your horrible name is, +do you mean to say that I said I'd make it all right with Hicks? + +_Jennie._ Not in them words, Mr. Yardsley; but you did say as how you'd +see him yourself and give him a present. You did indeed, Mr. Yardsley, +as you was a-standin' on that there Proossian rug. + +_Dorothy._ Did you, Mr. Yardsley? + + [_YARDSLEY buries his face in his hands and groans._ + +_Barlow._ Not so ready with your explanations now, eh? + +_Dorothy._ Mr. Barlow, really I must ask you not to interfere. Did you +say that, Mr. Yardsley? + +_Yardsley._ I did, but-- + +_Dorothy_ (_frigidly_). Go on, Jennie. + +_Jennie._ Just then the front-door bell rings and Mr. Barlow comes, and +there wasn't no more importunity for me to speak; but when I got +down-stairs into the kitchen, mum, Mr. Hicks he comes in, an' +(_sobs_)--an' I breaks with him. + +_Yardsley._ You've broken with Hicks for me? + +_Jennie._ Yes, I have--but I wouldn't never have done it if I'd +known--boo-hoo--as how you'd behave this way an' deny ever havin' said a +word. I--I--I l-lo-love Mr. Hicks, an' I--I hate you--and I wish I'd let +him come up and kill you, as he said he would. + +_Dorothy._ Jennie! Jennie! be calm! Where is Hicks now? + +_Yardsley._ That's so. Where is Hicks? I want to see him. + +_Jennie._ Never fear for that. You'll see him. He's layin' for you +outside. An' that, Miss Dorothy, is why I was a-wavin' at him an' sayin' +"pst" to him. I wanted to warn him, mum, of his danger, mum, because +Hicks is very vi'lent, and he told me in so many words as how he was +a-goin' to _do--him--up_. + +_Barlow._ You'd better inform Mr. Hicks, Jennie, that Mr. Yardsley is +already done up. + +_Yardsley._ Do me up, eh? Well, I like that. I'm not afraid of any +coachman in creation as long as he's off the box. I'll go see him at +once. + +_Dorothy._ No--no--no. Don't, Mr. Yardsley; don't, I beg of you. I don't +want to have any scene between you. + +_Yardsley_ (_heroically_). What if he succeeds? I don't care. As Barlow +says, I'm done up as it is. I don't want to live after this. What's the +use. Everything's lost. + +_Barlow_ (_dryly_). Jennie hasn't thrown you over yet. + +_Jennie_ (_sniffing airily_). Yes, she has, too. I wouldn't marry him +now for all the world--an'--an' I've lost--lost Hicks. (_Weeps._) Him as +was so brave, an' looks so fine in livery! + +_Yardsley._ If you'd only give me a chance to say something-- + +_Barlow._ Appears to me you've said too much already. + +_Dorothy_ (_coldly_). I--I don't agree with Mr. Barlow. You--you haven't +said enough, Mr. Yardsley. If you have any explanation to make, I'll +listen. + +_Yardsley_ (_looks up gratefully. Suddenly his face brightens. Aside_). +Gad! The very thing! I'll tell the exact truth, and if Dorothy has half +the sense I think she has, I'll get in my proposal right under Barlow's +very nose. (_Aloud._) My--my explanation, Miss Andrews, is very simple. +I--ah--I cannot deny having spoken every word that Jennie has charged to +my account. I did get down on my knees on the rug. I did say "divine +creature." I did not put it strong enough. I should have said "divinest +of _all_ creatures." + +_Dorothy_ (_in remonstrance_). Mr. Yardsley! + +_Barlow_ (_aside_). Magnificent bluff! But why? (_Rubs his forehead in a +puzzled way._) What the deuce is he driving at? + +_Yardsley._ Kindly let me finish. I did say "I love you." I should have +said "I adore you; I worship you." I did say, "Will you be my wife?" and +I was going to add, "for if you will not, then is light turned into +darkness for me, and life, which your 'yes' will render radiantly +beautiful, will become dull, colorless, and not worth the living." That +is what I was going to say, Miss Andrews--Miss Dorothy--when--when +Jennie interrupted me and spoke the word I most wish to hear--spoke the +word "yes"; but it was not her yes that I wished. My words of love were +not for her. + +_Barlow_ (_perceiving his drift_) Ho! Absurd! Nonsense! Most +unreasonable! You were calling the sofa the divinest of all creatures, I +suppose, or perhaps asking the--the piano to put on its shoes and--elope +with you. Preposterous! + +_Dorothy_ (_softly_). Go on, Mr. Yardsley. + +_Yardsley._ I--I spoke a little while ago about sand--courage--when it +comes to one's asking the woman he loves the greatest of all questions. +I was boastful. I pretended that I had that courage; but--well, I am not +as brave as I seem. I had come, Miss Dorothy, to say to you +the words that fell on Jennie's ears, and--and I began to get +nervous--stage-fright, I suppose it was--and I was foolish enough to +rehearse what I had to say--to you, and to you alone. + +_Barlow._ Let me speak, Miss Andrews. I-- + +_Yardsley._ You haven't anything to do with the subject in hand, my dear +Barlow, not a thing. + +_Dorothy._ Jennie--what--what have you to say? + +_Jennie._ Me? Oh, mum, I hardly knows what to say! This is suddenter +than the other; but, Miss Dorothy, I'd believe him, I would, +because--I--I think he's tellin' the truth, after all, for the reason +that--oh dear--for-- + +_Dorothy._ Don't be frightened, Jennie. For what reason? + +_Jennie._ Well, mum, for the reason that when I said "yes," mum, he +didn't act like all the other gentlemen I've said yes to, and--and +k-kuk-kiss me. + +_Yardsley._ That's it! that's it! Do you suppose that if I'd been after +Jennie's yes, and got it, I'd have let a door-bell and a sofa stand +between me and--the sealing of the proposal? + +_Barlow_ (_aside_). Oh, what nonsense this all is! I've got to get ahead +of this fellow in some way. (_Aloud._) Well, where do I come in? I came +here, Miss Andrews, to tell you-- + +_Yardsley_ (_interposing_). You come in where you came in before--just a +little late--after the proposal, as it were. + +_Dorothy_ (_her face clearing and wreathing with smiles_). What a comedy +of errors it has all been! I--I believe you, Mr. Yardsley. + +_Yardsley._ Thank Heaven! And--ah--you aren't going to say anything +more, D--Dorothy? + +_Dorothy._ I'm afraid-- + +_Yardsley._ Are you going to make me go through that proposal all over +again, now that I've got myself into so much trouble saying it the first +time--Dorothy? + +_Dorothy._ No, no. You needn't--you needn't speak of it again. + +_Barlow_ (_aside_). Good! That's _his conge_. + +_Yardsley._ And--then if I--if I needn't say it again? What then? Can't +I have--my answer now? Oh, Miss Andrews-- + +_Dorothy_ (_with downcast eyes, softly_). What did Jennie say? + +_Yardsley_ (_in ecstasy_). Do you mean it? + +_Barlow._ I fancy--I fancy I'd better go now, Miss--er--Miss Andrews. +I--I--have an appointment with Mr. Wilkins, and--er--I observe that it +is getting rather late. + +_Yardsley._ Don't go yet, Jack. I'm not so anxious to be rid of you now. + +_Barlow._ I must go--really. + +_Yardsley._ But I want you to make me one promise before you go. + +_Dorothy._ He'll make it, I'm sure, if I ask him. Mr. Yardsley and I +want you--want you to be our best man. + +_Yardsley._ That's it, precisely. Eh, Jack? + +_Barlow._ Well, yes. I'll be--second-best man. The events of the +afternoon have shown my capacity for that. + +_Yardsley._ Ah! + +_Barlow._ And I'll show my sincerity by wearing Bob's hat and coat into +the street now and letting the fury of Hicks fall upon me. + +_Jennie._ If you please, Miss Dorothy--I--I think I can attend to Mr. +Hicks. + +_Dorothy._ Very well. I think that would be better. You may go, Jennie. + + [_JENNIE departs._ + +_Barlow._ Well, good-day. I--I've had a very pleasant afternoon, +Miss--Andrews. Thanks for the--the cambric tea. + + [Illustration: HICKS] + +_Dorothy._ Good-bye, and don't forget. + +_Barlow._ I'm afraid--I won't. Good-bye, Bob. I congratulate you from my +heart. I was in hopes that I should have the pleasure of having you for +a best man at _my_ wedding, but--er--there's many a slip, you know, and +I wish you joy. + + [_YARDSLEY shakes him by the hand, and BARLOW goes out. As he + disappears through the portieres YARDSLEY follows, and, holding + the curtain aside, looks after him until the front-door is heard + closing. Then he turns about. DOROTHY looks demurely around at + him, and as he starts to go to her side the curtain falls._ + + +THE END + + + + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES: + + Text in italics is indicated by underscores: _italics_. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Proposal Under Difficulties, by +John Kendrick Bangs + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A PROPOSAL UNDER DIFFICULTIES *** + +***** This file should be named 37140.txt or 37140.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/1/4/37140/ + +Produced by David E. 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