Quality Street Part 6

(_They bow or curtsy, and retire to_ MISS SUSAN'S _room, with the exception of_ ARTHUR WELLESLEY TOMSON, _who is standing in disgrace in a corner with the cap of shame on his head, and_ ISABELLA, _a forbidding-looking, learned little girl_. ISABELLA _holds up her hand for permission to speak._)

ISABELLA. Please, ma'am, father wishes me to acquire algebra.

PHOEBE (_with a sinking_). Algebra! It--it is not a very ladylike study, Isabella.

ISABELLA. Father says, will you or won't you?

PHOEBE. And you are thin. It will make you thinner, my dear.

ISABELLA. Father says I am thin but wiry.

PHOEBE. Yes, you are. (_With feeling._) You are very wiry, Isabella.

ISABELLA. Father says, either I acquire algebra or I go to Miss Prothero's establishment.

PHOEBE. Very well, I--I will do my best. You may go.

(ISABELLA _goes and_ PHOEBE _sits wearily._)

ARTHUR (_fingering his cap_). Please, ma'am, may I take it off now?

PHOEBE. Certainly not. Unhappy boy---- (ARTHUR _grins._) Come here.

Are you ashamed of yourself?

ARTHUR (_blithely_). No, ma'am.

PHOEBE (_in a terrible voice_). Arthur Wellesley Tomson, fetch me the implement. (ARTHUR _goes briskly for the cane, and she hits the desk with it._) Arthur, surely that terrifies you?

ARTHUR. No, ma'am.

PHOEBE. Arthur, why did you fight with that street boy?

ARTHUR. 'Cos he said that when you caned you did not draw blood.

PHOEBE. But I don't, do I?

ARTHUR. No, ma'am.

PHOEBE. Then why fight him? (_Remembering how strange boys are._) Was it for the honour of the school?

ARTHUR. Yes, ma'am.

PHOEBE. Say you are sorry, Arthur, and I won't punish you.

(_He bursts into tears._)

ARTHUR. You promised to cane me, and now you are not going to do it.

PHOEBE (_incredulous_). Do you wish to be caned?

ARTHUR (_holding out his hand eagerly_). If you please, Miss Phoebe.

PHOEBE. Unnatural boy. (_She canes him in a very unprofessional manner._) Poor dear boy.

(_She kisses the hand._)

ARTHUR (_gloomily_). Oh, ma'am, you will never be able to cane if you hold it like that. You should hold it like this, Miss Phoebe, and give it a wriggle like that.

(_She is too soft-hearted to follow his instructions._)

PHOEBE (_almost in tears_). Go away.

ARTHUR (_remembering that women are strange_). Don't cry, ma'am; I love you, Miss Phoebe.

(_She seats him on her knee, and he thinks of a way to please her._)

If any boy says you can't cane I will blood him, Miss Phoebe.

(PHOEBE _shudders, and_ MISS SUSAN _again darts in. She signs to_ PHOEBE _to send_ ARTHUR _away._)

MISS SUSAN (_as soon as_ ARTHUR _has gone_). Phoebe, if a herring and a half cost three ha'pence, how many for elevenpence?

PHOEBE (_instantly_). Eleven.

MISS SUSAN. William Smith says it is fifteen; and he is such a big boy, do you think I ought to contradict him? May I say there are differences of opinion about it? No one can be really sure, Phoebe.

PHOEBE. It is eleven. I once worked it out with real herrings.

(_Stoutly._) Susan, we must never let the big boys know that we are afraid of them. To awe them, stamp with the foot, speak in a ferocious voice, and look them unflinchingly in the face. (_Then she pales._) Oh, Susan, Isabella's father insists on her acquiring algebra.

MISS SUSAN. What is algebra exactly; is it those three cornered things?

PHOEBE. It is _x_ minus _y_ equals _z_ plus _y_ and things like that.

And all the time you are saying they are equal, you feel in your heart, why should they be.

(_The music of the band swells here, and both ladies put their hands to their ears._)

It is the band for to-night's ball. We must not grudge their rejoicings, Susan. It is not every year that there is a Waterloo to celebrate.

MISS SUSAN. I was not thinking of that. I was thinking that he is to be at the ball to-night; and we have not seen him for ten years.

PHOEBE (_calmly_). Yes, ten years. We shall be glad to welcome our old friend back, Susan. I am going in to your room now to take the Latin cla.s.s.

(_A soldier with a girl pa.s.ses--a yokel follows angrily._)

MISS SUSAN. Oh, that weary Latin, I wish I had the whipping of the man who invented it.

(_She returns to her room, and the sound of the music dies away_. MISS PHOEBE, _who is not a very accomplished cla.s.sical scholar, is taking a final peep at the declensions when_ MISS SUSAN _reappears excitedly._)