Belinda | Page 5

in and stands up at back.)
And now here's Betty coming in to upset all our delightful plans, just
when we'vt made them. (BELINDA and DELIA are now on BETTY'S
R.)
DELIA (leaving BELINDA and shaking hands with BETTY). How are
you, Betty? I've left school.
BETTY. Very nicely, thank you, miss. (Backing to L. and admiring.)
You've grown.
BELINDA (moving to and patting the top of DELIA'S head). I'm much
taller than she is... (Crossing to BETTY in front of DELIA.) Well,
Betty, what is it?
BETTY. The two gentlemen, Mr. Baxter and Mr. Devenish, have both
called together, ma'am.
BELINDA (excited). Oh! How--how very simultaneous of them!
DELIA (eagerly, going towards house). Oh, do let me see them!
BELINDA (stopping her). Darling, you'll see plenty of them before
you've finished. (To BETTY in an exaggerated whisper.) What have

you done with them?
BETTY. They're waiting in the hall, ma'am, while I said I would see if
you were at home.
BELINDA. All right, Betty. Give me two minutes and then show them
out here.
BETTY. Yes, ma'am.
(BETTY crosses below BELINDA and DELIA and exits into the
house.)
BELINDA (taking DELIA down R. a step). They can't do much harm
to each other in two minutes.
DELIA (taking her hat from table). Well, I'll go and unpack. (She goes
back to BELINDA.) You really won't mind my coming down
afterwards?
BELINDA. Of course not. (A little awkwardly, taking DELIA'S arm
and moving down R.) Darling one, I wonder if you'd mind--just at
first--being introduced as my niece. (By now at foot of deck- chair.)
You see, I expect they're in a bad temper already (now C.), having
come here together, and we don't want to spoil their day entirely.
DELIA (smiling, on BELINDA'S L.). I'll be your mother if you like.
BELINDA. Oh no, that wouldn't do, because then Mr. Baxter would
feel that he ought to ask your permission before paying his attentions to
me. He's just that sort of man. A niece is so safe--however good you are
at statistics, you can't really prove anything.
DELIA. All right, mummy.
BELINDA (enjoying herself). You'd like to be called by a different
name, wouldn't you? There's something so thrilling about taking a false
name. Such a lot of adventures begin like that. How would you like to
be Miss Robinson, darling? It's a nice easy one to remember.

(Persuasively.) And you shall put your hair up so as to feel more
disguised. What fun we're going to have!
DELIA. You baby! All right, then, I'm Miss Robinson, your favourite
niece. (She takes her jacket from the hammock and moves towards the
house.)
BELINDA. How sweet of you! No, no, not that way--you'll meet them.
(Following quickly up between tree and table to DELIA, who has now
reached the house.) Oh, I'm coming with you to do your hair. (Moving
up C., arm in arm with DELIA.) You don't think you're going to be
allowed to do it yourself, when so much depends on it, and husbands
leave you because of it, and----
(BELINDA, seeing BETTY entering from house, hurries DELIA up R.,
and they bob down behind the yew hedge R. BETTY comes from the
house into the garden, crossing to centre and up stage looking for
BELINDA, followed by MR. BAXTER and MR. DEVENISH.
BAXTER gives an angry look round at DEVENISH as he enters. MR.
BAXTER is forty-five, prim and erect, with close-trimmed moustache
and side-whiskers. His clothes are dark and he wears a bowler-hat.
MR. DEVENISH is a long-haired, good-looking boy in a n glig
costume; perhaps twenty-two years old, and very scornful of the world.
BAXTER crosses to L. below BETTY, and turns to her with a sharp
inquiring glance. DEVENISH moves down R., languidly admiring the
garden.)
BETTY (looking about her surprised). The mistress was here a
moment ago. (The two heads pop up from behind the hedge and then
down again immediately. BELINDA and DELIA exeunt R.). I expect
she'll be back directly, if you'll just wait.
(She goes back into the house.)
(BAXTER, crossing to R., meets DEVENISH who has moved up R.
BAXTER is annoyed and with an impatient gesture comes down
between the tree and the table to chair L. and sits. DEVENISH throws
his felt hat on to the table and walks to the back of the hammock. He

sees the review in the hammock and picks it up.)
DEVENISH. Good heavens, Baxter, she's been reading your article!
BAXTER. I dare say she's not the only one.
DEVENISH. That's only guesswork (going to back of table); you don't
know of anyone else.
BAXTER (with contempt). How many people, may I ask, have bought
your poems?
DEVENISH (loftily). I don't write for the mob.
BAXTER. I think I may say that of