The Second Series Plays | Page 2

a shame! But I say that's serious. I thought there
was--she was--I mean----
FREDA. He's taken up with another girl, they say.
CHRISTINE. Too bad! [Pinning the roses] D'you know if Mr. Bill's
come?
FREDA. [With a swift upward look] Yes, by the six-forty.
RONALD KEITH comes slowly down, a weathered firm-lipped man,
in evening dress, with eyelids half drawn over his keen eyes, and the air
of a horseman.
KEITH. Hallo! Roses in December. I say, Freda, your father missed a
wigging this morning when they drew blank at Warnham's spinney.
Where's that litter of little foxes?
FREDA. [Smiling faintly] I expect father knows, Captain Keith.
KEITH. You bet he does. Emigration? Or thin air? What?
CHRISTINE. Studdenham'd never shoot a fox, Ronny. He's been here
since the flood.
KEITH. There's more ways of killing a cat--eh, Freda?
CHRISTINE. [Moving with her husband towards the drawing-room]
Young Dunning won't marry that girl, Ronny.
KEITH. Phew! Wouldn't be in his shoes, then! Sir William'll never
keep a servant who's made a scandal in the village, old girl. Bill come?
As they disappear from the hall, JOHN LATTER in a clergyman's
evening dress, comes sedately downstairs, a tall, rather pale young man,
with something in him, as it were, both of heaven, and a drawing-room.
He passes FREDA with a formal little nod. HAROLD, a fresh-cheeked,
cheery-looking youth, comes down, three steps at a time.
HAROLD. Hallo, Freda! Patience on the monument. Let's have a sniff!
For Miss Lanfarne? Bill come down yet?

FREDA. No, Mr. Harold.
HAROLD crosses the hall, whistling, and follows LATTER into the
drawing-room. There is the sound of a scuffle above, and a voice
crying: "Shut up, Dot!" And JOAN comes down screwing her head
back. She is pretty and small, with large clinging eyes.
JOAN. Am I all right behind, Freda? That beast, Dot!
FREDA. Quite, Miss Joan.
DOT's face, like a full moon, appears over the upper banisters. She too
comes running down, a frank figure, with the face of a rebel.
DOT. You little being!
JOAN. [Flying towards the drawing-roam, is overtaken at the door] Oh!
Dot! You're pinching!
As they disappear into the drawing-room, MABEL LANFARNE, a tall
girl with a rather charming Irish face, comes slowly down. And at sight
of her FREDA's whole figure becomes set and meaning- full.
FREDA. For you, Miss Lanfarne, from my lady.
MABEL. [In whose speech is a touch of wilful Irishry] How sweet!
[Fastening the roses] And how are you, Freda?
FREDA. Very well, thank you.
MABEL. And your father? Hope he's going to let me come out with the
guns again.
FREDA. [Stolidly] He'll be delighted, I'm sure.
MABEL. Ye-es! I haven't forgotten his face-last time.
FREDA. You stood with Mr. Bill. He's better to stand with than Mr.
Harold, or Captain Keith?
MABEL. He didn't touch a feather, that day.
FREDA. People don't when they're anxious to do their best.
A gong sounds. And MABEL LANFARNE, giving FREDA a rather
inquisitive stare, moves on to the drawing-room. Left alone without the
roses, FREDA still lingers. At the slamming of a door above, and hasty
footsteps, she shrinks back against the stairs. BILL runs down, and
comes on her suddenly. He is a tall, good-looking edition of his father,
with the same stubborn look of veiled choler.
BILL. Freda! [And as she shrinks still further back] what's the matter?
[Then at some sound he looks round uneasily and draws away from her]
Aren't you glad to see me?
FREDA. I've something to say to you, Mr. Bill. After dinner.

BILL. Mister----?
She passes him, and rushes away upstairs. And BILL, who stands
frowning and looking after her, recovers himself sharply as the
drawing-room door is opened, and SIR WILLIAM and MISS
LANFARNE come forth, followed by KEITH, DOT, HAROLD,
CHRISTINE, LATTER, and JOAN, all leaning across each other, and
talking. By herself, behind them, comes LADY CHESHIRE, a
refined-looking woman of fifty, with silvery dark hair, and an
expression at once gentle, and ironic. They move across the hall
towards the dining-room.
SIR WILLIAM. Ah! Bill.
MABEL. How do you do?
KEITH. How are you, old chap?
DOT. [gloomily] Do you know your part?
HAROLD. Hallo, old man!
CHRISTINE gives her brother a flying kiss. JOAN and LATTER pause
and look at him shyly without speech.
BILL. [Putting his hand on JOAN's shoulder] Good luck, you two!
Well mother?
LADY CHESHIRE. Well, my dear boy! Nice to see you at last. What a
long time!
She draws his arm through hers, and they move towards the
dining-room.
The curtain falls.
The curtain rises again at once.

SCENE II
CHRISTINE, LADY CHESHIRE, DOT, MABEL LANFARNE, and
JOAN, are returning to the hall after dinner.
CHRISTINE. [in a low voice] Mother, is it true about young