The Squire - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Oh, I didn't mean to trap you.
{Kate.} _(rising)_ Trap! _(takes up key-basket)_
{Gil.} I beg your pardon, _(meekly)_ but it was concerning this very Mr. Thornd.y.k.e that I returned to speak to you.
{Kate.} I won't hear you. I'm going indoors.
{Gil.} _(calmly)_ I won't let you. _(standing before her)_
{Kate.} You know what you are here?
{Gil.} Is it mistress and servant?
{Kate.} I was your mistress--you are my discharged servant.
{Gil.} Humbly, then, as an old servant, I ask you to consider what this Mr. Thornd.y.k.e really is.
{Kate.} _(coldly)_ A gentleman and a soldier.
{Gil.} Not a gentleman, because he's a soldier-- what does he do here? _(pause)_
{Kate.} We are friends.
{Gil.} They don't say that in the parlour of the White Lion.
{Kate.} Oh! Do they dare--?
{Gil.} Oh, yes, they dare.
{Kate.} The idlers in a pot-house malign the woman out of whose land they get the very crust they eat. _(covers her face with her hands and sits on garden seat)_ How hard! How cruel!
{Gil.} _(earnestly)_ I have stopped their tongues when I have been by. I have always said--
{Kate.} _(raising her head)_ You, Mr. Hythe?
Thank you. In the future don't meddle with their legitimate pleasures, _(laughing with pain)_ They've so little to amuse them. How selfish I am! _(the bell rings)_ Who is that?
_(The Rev. Paul Dormer appears in the archway from L., He is a dark-browed man, about forty, but with white hair; he is attired as a clergyman, but his dress is rusty, shabby, and slovenly; he carries a heavy stick.)_
{Gil.} _(surprised)_ Parson Dormer! _(going up C.)_
{Kate.} _(rising)_ Mr. Dormer! _(Dor. comes down, meeting Gil.)_
{Dormer.} _(to Gil. roughly)_ You're Gilbert Hythe, I think.
{Gil.} You think aright--I am.
{Dormer.} Can you carry a basket?
{Gil.} Where to?
{Dormer.} To the White Lion!
{Gil.} What for?
{Dormer.} For the sake of a sick woman.
{Gil.} I can carry a basket to the White Lion.
{Dormer.} _(gruffly)_ Thank you.
{Gil.} _(looking at Dor.)_ For the sake of a sick woman?
{Dormer.} _(turning away)_ Ah!
{Gil.} _(to Kate.)_ Call me when I'm wanted, Squire. I'm going to say good-bye to the dog.
_(Goes off through archway to R., Dor. sits R., of table.)_
{Kate.} _(L. C.)_ If your business is with Gilbert Hythe, you can dispense with the mistress of the house, Mr. Dormer, _(about to go)_
{Dormer.} No, I want you, too.
{Kate.} Really, parson--you haven't shown face at The Priors since father died, two years ago; you don't say "How do you do?" to John Verity's daughter; and you don't say "Good-day" to the nearest approach to a Squire that your parish can boast. The one omission is rude--the other impolitic.
{Dormer.} I didn't like your father--you resemble him in face and manner.
{Kate.} My father didn't like you. _(she holds out her hand, going to him)_ How are you, parson?
What can I do for you?
_(He looks at her, takes her hand sulkily.)_
{Dormer.} Fill a basket with food, fit for an invalid, and send your man with it to Market-Sinfield.
{Kate.} _(calling)_ Christie! _(to Dor.)_ A woman manages the White Lion, I think.
{Dormer.} A woman mismanages the White Lion.
{Kate.} _(clapping her hands)_ Christie! _(to Dor.)_ Shan't we hurt the landlady's feelings by sending food there? _(goes to R., table)_
{Dormer.} _(with enjoyment)_ We shall, _(irritably)_ Now then, you--what's-your-name?--why don't you come when you're called?
_(Christiana appears at door, wiping her hands on her ap.r.o.n.)_
{Chris.} _(angrily)_ Who's calling me "what's-your- name"? _(seeing Dor.)_ Why, parson! _(curtseys at door)_
{Dormer.} _(rises--shaking his stick at her)_ The gipsy girl, who won't sing the hymns on Sunday.
{Kate.} You start them in such a high key, parson.
{Chris.} _(curtseying)_ Yes, Squire, that he does.
