ADELA. A man! who are you?
FRANK. One who adores you! I am Frank--I mean Harry Mitchell.
(_advancing to her, she eludes him and runs over to R._)
ADELA. Oh, wretch, villain! oh, oh, oh! I am very ill--oh, oh! (_falls
into chair_)
FRANK. (_running about_) Oh, curse it! here's a mess I've made of it.
ADELA. Oh, oh!
FRANK. What must I do?--bite her finger, I suppose!
ADELA. Oh, salts, vinegar!
FRANK. Yes, yes--oh, I wonder where grandmother keeps her salt and
vinegar!
_Runs off, L. door--ADELAIDE jumps up, runs to the door and bolts it
behind him--SIMON enters, R. door, tipsy, a bottle in his hand, and
still wearing the morning gown and cap._
SIMON. (_singing_) Grief is a folly,
We'll sing and be jolly!
ADELA. Mr. Mitchell, in that dreadful state!
SIMON. Where are you, Mr. Sir? it's me, Simon--you must wait upon
yourself--I'm going to bed.
ADELA. (_aside_) Simon! the servant, ah, I understand. (_aloud, to
SIMON_) Oh, it is you, is it?
SIMON. (_aside_) The young lady! (_dropping into easy chair and acting
the old man again_) My wife will be back directly--
ADELA. (_pulling him from chair_) Yes; and Mr. Mitchell will also be
back directly.
SIMON. (_frightened and placing the bottle on easy chair_) Mr.
Mitchell!
ADELA. (C.) And I will tell him all!
SIMON. (_on his knees_) Don't! I shall lose my place, before I have
had time to redden my nose--'tisn't my fault--it's the keys of the
cellar did it--and Mr. Harry----
ADELA. It was he who made you thus disguise yourself--confess and I
forgive you!
SIMON. (_rising_) Yes; he arrived this evening, on a visit to his
grandfather and grandmother, whom he hasn't seen for twelve years; and
as they went away this morning----
ADELA. He hasn't encountered them?
SIMON. How was he to do it, I should like to know.