The Black Cat | Page 5

set end on to the footlights._
_At the upper end of this table Undine is discovered, as she sits with a slate and arithmetic book before her, her elbows on the table, her head supported on both hands, holding a slate pencil from which a bit of sponge dangles by a string._
Undine.
(_pouting_) I hate these old sums! Mother's always making me do sums in the holidays. It isn't fair. Seven times three is--what's father reading? (_Rises, and takes up the book._) That's French, I know. Father's always reading French. G.Y.P. Gyp? I wonder what it's about. (_Puts the book down, sits, yawns, and takes up the pencil._) Seven times three is--twenty-one. Put down one and carry two. Oh, but it's pence and shillings. I can't do pence and shillings! (_Throws down the pencil; it falls off the table._) Horrid old things! they're always coming wrong. (_She rises lazily, and stoops to pick up the pencil, then looks round her, stretching her arms and yawning._) I say, what fun to make a libation to Demeter! I will! Let's see. I wish I had mother's Greek dress. I must have one of father's rags. This'll do. (_Drapes herself in a piece of embroidery, runs up stage, jumps on "throne," and poses before the mirror._) It's awfully jolly dressing up. But I have no wine. Oh, I know--I'll take some of father's painting water--though it's rather black-and-whity. (_Takes up the glass, and approaches the statue._) Hail, Demeter! I have no wine for you, but here's some water. (_Makes libation._) I suppose I should pray for something now. Oh, I do wish you'd stop mother persecuting me in the holidays like this! But you can't, you dear old thing. Father says the old gods are dead. I wish they'd come alive again. (_Crosses to table._)
(_Enter Denham. Undine drops embroidery, kicks it under the table, and sits._)
Denham.
Well, imp, what's up now? (_He comes to the fireplace, and takes a pipe from the rack._) Rags again! I shall have to lock them up, I see. (_Takes up the embroidery, and throws it over a chair._) Get to your work at once! Sit up straight. (_He crosses L, seats himself in the armchair, lights his pipe, and takes up the book, Undine resumes her crouched position at the table._)
Undine.
(_pouting_) It's very hard to have to do sums in the holidays.
Denham.
(_crosses to table behind Undine_) You are behind your class, you know. (_Looking over her._) Well, seven times three?
Undine.
Let's see--twenty-one?
Denham.
And how many shillings in that?
Undine.
I suppose two shillings and one penny.
Denham.
Nonsense! Don't suppose anything so un-English. How many pence in a shilling?
Undine.
Twelve--I suppose.
Denham.
Well, twelve from twenty-one leaves--
(_Undine counts on her fingers_)
How many?
Undine.
About eight, I think.
Denham.
Try again, stupid!
Undine.
But, father, I think there ought to be ten pence in a shilling.
Denham.
Why ought there, you monkey?
Undine.
Oh, because then, don't you see, you could count on your fingers all right, but now there are too many pennies for your fingers, and so you never can tell how many are over.
Denham.
Very convenient. But come now, twelve from twenty-one?
Undine.
(_counting again_) Nine?
Denham.
(_resuming his book_) All right then. Down with it in the pence column, and get on.
Undine.
(_kissing him_) Oh, you jolly old father! I should like to do my sums with you always.
Denham.
Heaven forbid! Get on! Get on! (_Crosses to chair L._)
(_A pause._)
Undine.
Father! _Father!_
Denham.
H'm!
Undine.
I say, FATHER!
Denham.
Do let me read in peace.
Undine.
But, father--
Denham.
Well?
Undine.
Do the Greeks worship Demeter now?
Denham.
No, not now.
Undine.
The old Greeks were the cleverest people that ever lived, and they had the nicest gods. Don't you wish there were goddesses now, father? (_Rises, and leans against table._)
Denham.
(_absently_) Yes, of course.
Undine.
Goddesses sometimes fell in love with people, father--didn't they?
Denham.
People who didn't happen to be gods? It did occur sometimes, they say.
Undine.
And one might fall in love with you, father. That would be fun!
Denham.
That would be awful. But do stop this chatter, and get on.
Undine.
She'd give me all sorts of jolly things.
(_A pause._)
_Mrs. Denham_ (_outside the door_) In a quarter of an hour will do, Jane.
Denham.
Here comes mother!
Undine.
Oh, bother these horrid old sums! (_Flops into chair._)
(_Enter Mrs. Denham, with flowers. She comes to the cabinet to place them in a vase, and sees the water spilt._)
Mrs. Denham.
What's all this mess? What have you been doing, miss? (_Crosses to Undine._)
Undine.
(_rising and standing before her_) Please, mother, I only made a libation.
Mrs. Denham.
You naughty, wicked girl! Oh, this wicked, wicked waste of time!
Undine.
(_whimpering_) But, mother, I only--
Mrs. Denham.
Hold your tongue, miss. Don't attempt to make excuses. (_Steps back, looks at Undine._) And just look at that pinafore, that was put on you clean this morning, and now it is all over dirt! You have been climbing trees again.
Undine.
(_whimpering_) I wasn't climbing trees. I only climbed one tree.
Denham.
(_aside_) Well parried!
Mrs. Denham.
Oh, these mean prevarications! If I take my eye off you for a moment, you disobey me. But you shall obey