CRUM. (_aside to BETSY_) Capitally. Capitally acted, so far.
Only carry it on a little longer, and the shop is yours. (_aside
to MOUSER_) Did you ever see such a pair of eyes? (_aside, as he
goes out, towards L. D. F._) I’ll not lose sight of them.
_Exit L. D. F._
(_MOUSER and BETSY stand at opposite sides of the Stage. Their
eyes meet once or twice--she dropping them with emotion, and he
drawing himself up and trying to appear indifferent. CRUMMY
crosses unseen into Office, R._)
BET. Poor man! He’ll never begin, so I suppose I must. (_aloud_)
Sir!
MOUS. (_aside_) Mouser, be firm. No damned nonsense! Do your
duty, Mouser, and that duty commands you instantly to plunge a dagger
into the heart that adores you. Well, Miss Baker? (_with great
indifference--his back towards her_)
BET. Those as likes me calls me Betsy. (_in a plaintive tone_)
Call me Betsy, sir!
MOUS. No, Betsy--I shall not call you Betsy--I never do call people by
their Christian names, Betsy--never, Betsy! Never, Betsy!
BET. No more do I--unless they’re very--_very_ pretty ones indeed,
such as John, and Timothy, and Marma_dook_. (_in a tender tone,
and approaching him_)
MOUS. (_aside_) Mouser, be firm. (_turning to BETSY, and seeing her
close to him, begins whistling again. BETSY retires a step or two, and
approaches him again_) So, you think Marma_dook_ a pretty name, eh?
BETSY. Yes, sir. I could go on making rhymes to it all day long, as I
stand at the washing-tub: just like the man in the play.
There’s not a name in any book,
As can compare with Marma_dook_,
No breeze as e’er the treeses shook,
Sounds half as sweet as Marma_dook._
MOUS. (_aside_) It was wrong in me to stop. I feel, it was
highly wrong in me to stop. (_aloud_) But remember, you are going
to marry a Joseph.
BET. (_with sudden violence, and close to MOUSER_) Never!
MOUS. (_jumping away_) Don’t. But why not?
BET. I _don’t_ want to marry--I never _will_ marry--I’ll live
and die a Baker. (_with great energy_)
MOUS. But your reason--your motive--for dying a Baker?
BET. (_with a pathetic look at MOUSER_) Can _you_ ask? _You! You?_ Oh,
’tis too much! Oh! Oh! Oh! (_aside_) I wonder how I’m doing it.
(_hiding her face in her hands and sobbing_)
MOUS. Hush! (_tenderly_) Don’t cry--don’t make such a row, Miss
Baker.
BET. Call me Betsy!
MOUS. Very well, Betsy. (_aside_) I’ve been _too_ firm, Mouser, you’ve
been by many degrees too firm. (_aloud, and taking BETSY’S hand_) Now,
don’t cry, there’s a dear. (_aside_) I called her a dear!
_Here CRUMMY looks in from Office, and observes._
There--there--and, now laugh--laugh directly, you little rogue.
(_aside_) I called her a little rogue. (_chucks BETSY under the
chin_)
BET. (_looking nervously towards the door_) Oh, I think I’d
better go now, sir.
MOUS. Don’t be in a hurry, Betsy. He, he, he my pretty little
Betsy--for you _are_ pretty--_very_--_very_--he, he! (_laughs to
himself, aside_) I’m going it! I feel I’m rapidly becoming a horrid,
good-for-nothing little rascal! But I can’t help it.
BET. (_trying to disengage her hand_) But, sir, what would Mrs.
Mouser think?
MOUS. (_recklessly_) Mrs. Mouser may think whatever she likes. There,
what d’ye say to that? Ha, ha, ha! who’s afraid? (_suddenly and very
loud_) Betsy, embrace your Marma_dook_.
BET. (_frightened, takes up her pattens, and holds them out,
threatening him_)
MOUS. (_rushes at BETSY--she avoids him, leaving the veil in his
hand._)
CRUM. (_without_) Very well, I shall find him.