THE COOK. ... And as pretty a wedding, Mr. Hill, as ever I did see.
THE BUTLER. Indeed, Mrs. Minchley? And how did our niece look?
THE COOK (_closing her eyes in silent rapture_). Well,
_there_! That lace! (_In a burst of ecstacy_.) Well, _there_!!
Words can't describe it, Mr. Hill.
THE BUTLER. Indeed, Mrs. Minchley?
THE COOK. And Miss Phyllis--Mrs. Garnet, I _should_ say--she was as
calm as calm. And looking beautiful as--well, there! Now, Mr. Garnet,
he _did_ look nervous, if you like, and when the best man--such a
queer-looking awkward man, in a frock coat that _I_ wouldn't have been
best man at a wedding in--when he lost the ring and said--quite loud,
everybody could hear him--"I can't find it, old horse!" why I did
think Mr. Garnet would have fainted away, and so I said to Jane, as
was sitting beside me. But he found it at the last moment, and all
went on as merrily, as you may say, as a wedding bell.
JANE (_sentimentally_). Reely, these weddings, you know, they do give
you a sort of feeling, if you catch my meaning, Mrs. Minchley.
THE BUTLER (_with the air of a high priest who condescends for once to
unbend and frolic with lesser mortals_). Ah! it'll be your turn next,
Miss Jane.
JANE (_who has long had designs on this dignified bachelor_). Oh, Mr.
Hill, reely! You do poke your fun.
[_Raises her eyes to his, and drops them swiftly, leaving him
with a pleasant sensation of having said a good thing
particularly neatly, and a growing idea that he might do
worse than marry Jane, take a nice little house in Chelsea
somewhere, and let lodgings. He thinks it over._
TILBY (_a flighty young person who, when she has a moment or two to
spare from the higher flirtation with the local policeman, puts in a
little light work about the bedrooms_). Oh, I say, this'll be one in
the eye for Riggetts, pore little feller. (_Assuming an air of
advanced melodrama._) Ow! She 'as forsiken me! I'll go and blow me
little 'ead off with a blunderbuss! Ow that one so fair could be so
false!
MASTER THOMAS RIGGETTS (_the page boy, whose passion for the lady who
has just become Mrs. Garnet has for many months been a byword in the
servants' hall_). Huh! (_To himself bitterly._) Tike care, tike care,
lest some day you drive me too far. [_Is left brooding darkly._