(Hallway of the DeSmythe house. Flowers on extra tables, cards
attached. Door bell in vestibule rings constantly; flowers and
packages arriving. Maude's picture hat, gloves and fan on chair. Mr.
Bulbus on ladder, measuring the wall. Katherine enters and re-enters,
with flowers and gifts. Miss Hoppenhoer flits in and out. Everybody
nervous.)
_Katherine_ The bill's been a-ringin' all morning like that. (arranges
flowers).
_Mr. B._ I should think you'd be tired. Ain't yer?
_Katherine_ No, it's as exciting as a wedding.
_Mr. B._ You wimmen like weddin's. I never see a woman as didn't.
_Katherine_ (wonderingly). Are you going to decorate the hall?
_Mr. B._ (largely). Of course,--palms and ropes of smilax--
(Enter Jack, carrying his hat and gloves.)
_Jack_ (agreeably). Good morning, Katherine. I let myself in, you not
being a regiment. (Katherine goes). Good morning, Mr. Bulbus. You look
pretty festive in here. (examines bouquets, reading cards aloud and
commenting). "Compliments of Harold Taylor."--Umph, got them here in
time, I should say. "With love of Edith."--girls always put on "with
love of." "Wishing you a joyous day. Dick Dowell." That's nice of
Dick, considering the late unpleasantness. "Lucile," of course;
"Lucile" in white and gold! A girl couldn't graduate unless she had
three 'Luciles' and a 'Maurine!' Golden Gate roses! Whew, that means
dough! Professor Graham, I'll bet! He's got dough and cheek--
(Maude runs down the stairs.)
_Jack_ O, hello, Maude! (gives a long whistle). Aren't we fine? Swagger!
_Maude_ (imploringly). Jack, how do I look?
_Jack_ Turn around,--slowly. (Maude revolves very slowly.)
_Maude_ (anxiously). Well?
_Jack_ You look--you look--out of sight! By George, you do!
_Maude_ (caressing her dress skirt). You like the train?
(Mr. Bulbus gets down and goes out, unnoticed by Maude.)
_Jack_ It's splendid. You're a--a queen! I'd kiss you--
_Maude_ (startled). H-u-s-h! Mr. Bulbus!
_Jack_ (coolly). Oh, he's gone.
_Maude_ Goodness, what if he'd been there!
_Jack_ (comfortably). He wasn't.
_Maude_ (trying to see the back of her train in glass). But you didn't
know it!
_Jack_ Don't you think I didn't know it! 'Spose I want to make the
poor duffer green with envy? I can't kiss you anyway, you're too fine.
_Maude_ No, I can't even sit down! Jack, you look awfully handsome.
_Jack_ Thank you. Would you wear a rose?
_Maude_ Of course--one of Dick's. Nice of Dick, wasn't it? (gets one;
puts it on; an operation requiring time and patience).
_Jack_ Don't leave so much green show. I want a contrast, not a study in
tints.
_Maude_ Don't touch me! Hold your arms out straight.
_Jack_ (standing like a sign post). Then hurry up! I am not the stuff
martyrs are made of.
_Maude_ Is that all right?
_Jack_ Stand off and get the effect. How can I tell?
_Maude_ (standing back). Put down your arms!
_Jack_ (obediently). Well?
_Maude_ (with enthusiasm). Perfectly lovely! My, I shall be proud of
you! For pity's sake, don't look at me!
_Jack_ Can't help it.
_Maude_ I don't mean now--goosey! I mean when I read. If I should
forget!
_Jack_ You won't! Keep your eye on Old South Church and--
_Maude_ On what?
_Jack_ I beg your pardon. On Miss Rantum.
_Maude_ Oh! It must be time,--where is everybody?
_Jack_ I'm here, (sits on arm of chair and gazes at her.)
_Maude_ O you, yes! But I mean mamma! I am so nervous!
_Jack_ You girls just try to be nervous. You think it's becoming.
(Enter Mrs. De Smythe, in black silk.)
_Mrs. De S._ The carriages have come. Where can Papa be?
_Maude_ (in dismay). O, it isn't time, is it? O horrors, where is my
essay? Jack, please look in my desk.
(Jack dashes out.)
_Maude_ Mamma, is my hair all right?
_Mrs. De S._ Yes, Maudie, yes, (dismally) you look lovely.
(Jack dashes in, essay in hand.)
_Jack_ Here it is, but don't practice now.
_Maude_ (pacing the floor). "As a traveler, among the mighty mountains,
fails to realize--to realize the heights to which he has climbed, so
we, in Life's dusty pathway, cannot estimate the distance we have--we
have,--cannot estimate the distance we have--" There, I knew I didn't
know it! What shall I do?
_Jack_ (brilliantly). Open your manuscript.
(Katherine enters, with letters and small package.)
_Maude_ (unseeing, resumes). "Deep, deep are the mysteries of nature,
infinite are--are--"
_Mrs. De S._ Maudie, here is a letter from Uncle John. (withholds
package).
_Maude_ (drops essay). O, I wonder what he sent! Is this all!
_Mrs. De S._ Why, Maudie! Read it.
_Maude_ (tears it open; reads). "My dearest Niece: Hail to the happy
day! 'Way down here in South Africa, 'mong monkeys and Boers, I feel
the excitement. We don't graduate down here, but we know people who
do. Never, I know, has the house of De Smythe been so shaken. In honor
thereof, I am sending a--a--" O, goodness, I can't--"a diamond
ring,"--a diamond! Hasn't it come?
_Mrs. De S._ Does he say when?
_Maude_ (referring to the letter). He says "I am sending--" Katherine
is such a stupy! (calls). Katherine--
_Mrs. De S._ Maybe this is it. (gives package).
(Katherine comes with pink roses.)
_Maude_ O, O. O.! Isn't it a beauty! Jack, look!
_Jack_ (just glancing). Umph! Yes, I see.
_Maude_ Dear Uncle John! Everybody is so good! It's bigger than
_Valeria_'s. Must I wear gloves? I don't care, I just won't.
_Mrs. De S._ Your roses, Maudie.
_Maude_ O, your roses, Jack! They're lovely!
_Jack_ (slowly). The red weren't pretty, so I got pink. I hope you'll--
_Maude_ (rapturously). I just love pink roses!
(Katherine comes in with a big package.)
_Maude_ (tearing away pink ribbons and tissue papers). "With Valeria's
dearest love." A bonbon dish! Isn't it lovely! And violets on it!
_Jack_ (with a grimace). It will hold two pounds!
_Maude_ It isn't a bit too big! If you won't fill it--well, there are
others. I'm forgetting my piece. "Deep, deep are the mysteries--"
_Jack_ Are you going to say it?
_Maude_ No, but I must really know it, you know, so I can look up often.
_Jack_ "O, I see clearly," said the blind man.
_Mrs. De S._ Dear, dear, this is just as if you were getting married!
(sinks into a chair; she has been examining the flowers). The presents
and the flowers and the carriages and--and everything. O, suppose you
were--suppose you were!
_Maude_ (with intense indignation). But I'm not! I'm graduating!
_Jack_ (disconsolately). I don't think they're much alike!
_Mrs. De S. But where is Papa?
_Jack_ As I came, I saw him at the drug store.
_Mrs. De S._ The drug store! Why in the world--oh, I remember now,--I
sent him. We'll never get off.
(Miss Hoppenhoer's voice is heard from somewhere, "O Jennie!")
_Mrs. De S._ (rising and collecting things dropped). I wonder what's
happened now? I hope Papa isn't killed! (hurries out).
_Maude_ (gazing at her ring). Aren't my presents pretty?
_Jack_ Yes, but you are prettier.
_Maude_ (archly). Thank you, Mr. Hamilton, but aren't you a little rash?
(holds roses to her face by way of contrast.)
_Jack_ (critically). No, I think not, on mature consideration. Your hair
looks like gold--California gold, and those lovely lilies! Who gave
you those lilies-of-the-valley? (suddenly).
_Maude_ (evasively). Why California gold?
_Jack_ O, it's redder, and then, it is a native product. You'd be mad if
I said antique gold.
_Maude_ But do you like antique gold better?
_Jack_ That isn't the point. Who gave you those lilies?
_Maude_ Aren't they dear?
_Jack_ (cruelly). Don't know,--didn't buy 'em. Whose tribute are they?
_Maude_ "Tribute" sounds like a funeral.
_Jack_ (with awful meaning). There may be a funeral. Whose are they?
_Maude_ (demurely). Mine.
_Jack_ (with infinite patience). You know what I mean, (with terrible
calmness). Who gave you those?
_Maude_ (preparing to cry). You're awfully cross, I think.
(Mr. Bulbus enters in rear hunting something. Maude sees him.)
_Jack_ (unmoved). Who gave you those?
_Maude_ (graciously, sweetly). Mr. Bulbus, the lilies are lovely.
_Mr. B._ (surprised into dropping a hammer). Yes'sum, I'm glad you--you
like 'em. (retreats in confusion.)
_Jack_ Oh! (slowly). That's awfully nice of you.
(Enter Mrs. De Smythe and Miss Hoppenhoer, bonnets and gloves on.)
_Mrs. De S._ Where is your father? It's time to go.
_Jack_ Past time. Grindem said to be there at 9:30.
_Mrs. De S._ What shall we do? I knew he would be late! I hope I shall
not have an attack!
_Miss H._ (grimly). No, I hope not--in that dress!
_Mrs. De S._ As if one's dress made any difference with an attack! O,
there he is! Well, Papa, you--good morning, Madam.
(Mr. De Smythe and Madam Sateene come in together.)
_Mr. De S._ My, how fine we look!
_Maude_ Madam Sateene, this shoulder--wrinkles.
_Madam_ Let me see. (Madam and Maude consult apart.)
_Mrs. De S._ We ought to go.
_Mr. De S._ Miss Rantum hasn't come.
_Jack_ (looking up from his own Ms.) O, I forgot! Miss Baked Beans will
meet us there. She couldn't come here.
_Maude_ She promised she would!
_Mr. De S._ All ready. How many of these do we take? (indicating
flowers). Need a dray?
_Maude_ Only Jack's--and I carry them. Jack, you carry my essay and
fan. (puts on hat). Is it straight? Where are my roses?
(Miss Hoppenhoer gives Mr. De Smythe two shawls and he goes.)
_Madam_ (anxiously). Wait one moment. (adjusts Maude's train). Now.
_Miss H._ Have you any lemon drops?
_Maude_ Of course not,--nobody carries lemon drops! Where is my
handkerchief!
_Jack_ (sheepishly, taking it out of his vest). Here it is.
_Mr. De S._ (from door). Come on, you people.
_Mrs. De S._ O dear, dear, I shall never stand it.
_Miss H._ (collecting salts and fans). We're coming.
_Mrs. De S._ O dear,--kiss me, Maudie. (sits down exhausted). It's just
like a wedding! I can't stand it! Some day you'll be getting married!
(Mr. Bulbus enters in the rear and just stands.)
_Jack_ (cheerfully). I hope so.
_Maude_ (arranging train to carry it gracefully). Poor Mamma!
_Mr. De S._ (from outside). Come on! Matilda, bring Mamma!
_Mrs. De S._ O, O, O!
_Maude_ Brace up, Mamma, you must.
_Mrs. De S._ (to her handkerchief). And only yesterday she was a baby!
_Miss H._ (snappishly.) And only day before yesterday you were!
_Mrs. De S._ (from outside). Come on--we must go.
_Chorus_ We're coming! (All start, collecting fans, handkerchiefs, and
gathering up trains, adjusting bonnets anew, etc.)
_Maude_ (as they rush for the door). O, look out for my flowers!
Jack, got my piece? I know I shall forget! What if we're late?
Good-bye, Mr. Bulbus! (all go).
(Curtain drops on Mr. Bulbus, gazing after Maude in a sort of trance.)
EPILOGUE.
(A Wednesday morning in May, 1905. Mr. and Mrs. Jack Hamilton at
breakfast. He reading a paper, totally absorbed. She opening her
letters; there are two by her plate.)
_Maude_ (reading letter and talking to herself). Well, Well! (reading).
I am not angry--not in the least. You dear old girl! (drops letter and
meditates). You dear old girl! (resumes reading). I know better,--you
wouldn't! (reads about a page without comment, then) W-h-y! Why! O
goodness gracious! Jack!
(Jack looks over top of paper absently, then resumes reading.)
_Maude_ (explosively). Jack, what do you think? Only fancy--Valeria
is--Jack, listen! Put down your horrid paper! Valeria is married.
(He looks at her vacantly.)
_Jack_ Well?
_Maude_ Well? Listen: Valeria is married.
_Jack_ (waking to the situation). Is that so! Valeria--well, well. I'm
not astonished.
_Maude_ (pensively). Why not?
_Jack_ (at a venture). O, because--she is so--so handsome.
_Maude_ (scornfully). She isn't handsome! Where are your eyes? She's
clever--clever, that's what Valeria is. But not handsome,--certainly
not. She squints.
_Jack_ (staring). I thought you were so fond of her.
_Maude_ (with dignity). I am, I am awfully fond of her--I've always
been. But (cuttingly) affection doesn't blind me. I can love her and
see her faults. Nobody ever called Valeria handsome.
_Jack_ (hunting his place on the page). Maybe it was stunning.
_Maude_ (with intense emphasis). Stunning!
_Jack_ (turning the page with a prodigious rattling). Hal used to rave
over her.
_Maude_ O! Hal, he--don't rattle your paper so, you make me nervous! Hal
didn't care for her.
_Jack_ (absently). No, I suppose not, I suppose not. Of course, nobody
could.
(Silence. Both read.)
_Maude_ (intent on letter and all to herself). I wonder what she wore!
She is too old for white. (reads aloud). "You'll be surprised, my
dear." Yes, I confess I am. (gazing at coffee urn thoughtfully). Yes,
I am. (resumes reading). Where was I? "I want to tell you first,
dear." Here it is. So she did wear white--now, I am astonished. (reads
on). For pity sakes! Jack
_Jack_ (starts violently, crushing paper). A man might as well live on
Vesuvius.
_Maude_ (in great excitement). But, Jack, guess who married her.
_Jack_ (with calm certainty). The man in the Moon. He's too jolly to
mind squints.
_Maude_ Just guess. You never can.
_Jack_ (impatiently, much wrought upon.) Then tell me.
_Maude_ (in an explosive). Hal!
_Jack_ (inanely). Hal!
_Maude_ (calmly, the mine sprung). Hal Taylor.
_Jack_ Hal Taylor. Well, I am--bobbed!
_Maude_ I'm not surprised.
_Jack_ You said Hal didn't care for her.
_Maude_ (very slowly). He doesn't, Jack. Hal was--roped in.
_Jack_ (stares, then gives vent to a long whistle of astonishment).
Well, you women!
_Maude_ Don't talk to me. I am disgusted!
_Jack_ (ruefully). Well! (He stares, folds napkin, unfolds it and takes
up his newspaper.)
_Maude_ Don't sit there, just saying "Well" all the time!
_Jack_ (slowly). Say, what is it to you?
_Maude_ (sobs a little). She h-has deceived me--basely deceived me. But
I don't care. I shall send her a cut-glass berry dish,--maybe a
Tiffany c-c-cut! (dries her eyes resolutely). Coffee, dear?
_Jack_ (irritably; a trifle suspicious yet). Yes, don't I always take
coffee?
_Maude_ (plaintively). Don't scold me. I cannot endure much more. To
think Valeria--
_Jack_ (with decision, carving the steak). Don't think, then. Drop it.
What's your other letter?
_Maude_ (sadly). I don't care--I don't care for anything. (takes a
biscuit). The biscuits are burned.
_Jack_ No, they are not. Never mind--give the letter to me.
(Maude gazes pensively at nothing. Jack opens the letter with a fork,
and reads silently.)
_Jack_ (to himself, muttering). Of course, it's money,--always money.
Only a dollar and fifty cents apiece,--a man ought not growl. Umph!
"The happy old days." Yes, I remember.
_Maude_ (meekly). Remember what, Jack, dear? (He reads. Silence. She
folds and unfolds Valeria's letter.)
_Jack_ (suddenly). By George!
_Maude_ (buttering a biscuit, slowly). What is it?
_Jack_ By George!
_Maude_ What is it? A woman might as well live on--on Vesuvius!
_Jack_ George Graham is in the New York legislature!
_Maude_ Professor George De Witt Graham!
_Jack_ (reading while he speaks). The same, my dear. We're to banquet
him; it seems he's made a big speech.
_Maude_ He was very handsome, and nice to us girls. He pulled us all
through chemistry.
_Jack_ (absently). Yes, he was a good wire puller. And now he's Senator,
Senator in New York. That's great.
_Maude_ How do you know? Is that from him?
_Jack_ This is the Alumni Letter.
_Maude_ Alumni?
_Jack_ (slowly and elaborately). Yes, my dear, the Alumni
Letter,--Alumni. We graduated in 1902,--possibly you remember the
circumstances. You ought to.
_Maude_ How long ago it seems,--how long, long ago!
_Jack_ Thank you. It is. Three years.
(Silence. He stirs coffee.)
_Maude_ The lace for my dress gave out,--do you remember? And I wore
Paris muslin and Mamma was sick.
_Jack_ It was a great day! You remember your Aunt?
_Maude_ Poor Aunty! I can see her now--so 'fraid I would forget--sitting
on the edge of her chair! And those lemon drops,--I thought I should
faint when Bob brought 'em up!
_Jack_ Yes, I remember how his shoes squeaked! And Bob would usher!
_Maude_ Poor Aunty, I hope she is happier now out among the Hottentots.
Aren't they Hottentots?
_Jack_ (with scholarly precision). Your Aunt, my dear, is in Korea.
Korea is an island just east of--
_Maude_ (vaguely). Well aren't the Hottentots there, too? I thought
they were all together over there somewhere,--all fat and dusty
together, with their queer hats like plates,--all praying and
embroidering lovely silks.
_Jack_ As I was saying, Korea is east of--of Asia.
_Maude_ (taking another biscuit). Asia was always hard for me. The
rivers had such dreadful names! "1902! 1902! We are the people, who
are you?" What fun we had! Let's go back!
_Jack_ Haven't time. You write 'em greetings and so on, and enclose
three dollars. I wonder where old Grindem is?
_Maude_ Old Grindem! You remember his side whiskers? I couldn't bear
that man! He was horrid on Commencement day--wouldn't wait one second!
Not one second! And Valeria, (she sighs heavily). Poor Valeria!
_Jack_ (cheerfully). You looked mighty pretty that day. You didn't need
any lace.
(She sighs gently and shakes her head.)
_Jack_ (with desperate cheerfulness). And your hair was like gold,--and
those lilies-of-the-valley! I remember I went so far as to think of
Solomon. How is it? "Solomon in all his glory--all his glory
was--was--Solomon was"--how is it?
_Maude_ "Was not arrayed like one of these."
_Jack_ O yes--"like one of these," of course. "Solomon in all his glory
was not arrayed like one of these." You were a sort of female Solomon.
Not a Mrs. Solomon,--perish the thought!
_Maude_ (reproachfully). Jack!
_Jack_ (still cheerfully). Who gave you those lilies? Come on--tell me
now. This is a sort of anniversary when "all things shall be made
clear." Old Bulbus?
(She braces herself with visible effort.)
_Jack_ It was awfully hard on me, your just carrying my roses and
putting old Bulbus' lilies in your Solomon hair.
_Maude_ They weren't B-B-Bulbuses.
_Jack_ Honest?
_Maude_ H-honest.
_Jack_ (gravely). Whose were they?
(Silence. Maude twists her napkin.)
_Jack_ (more gravely). Whose were they, Mrs. Hamilton?
_Maude_ You won't be mad?
_Jack_ Do I get "mad"? I am not a two-year-old!
_Maude_ Nor cross?
_Jack_ Whose lilies were those, I ask!
_Maude_ (sitting very erect). I am going to tell you!
_Jack_ (a trifle viciously). See that you do.
_Maude_ Hal sent those lilies.
_Jack_ (incredulous). Hal Taylor?
_Maude_ (with a dead period). Hal Taylor.
(He gazes at her sternly; she hides her face behind the coffee urn.)
_Jack_ Therefore, Valeria squints!
_Maude_ O don't, Jack!
_Jack_ (severely). The vanity of woman!
_Maude_ (rising quickly and coming round to his chair). But I have your
roses, Jack, in the box with my dress! And I shall send Valeria a
cut-glass berry-bowl--maybe a Tiffany cut!
(He pulls her down to him as curtain falls.)