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Indeed, Salome! Then why do you keep me in short skirts?
SALOME.
Why! you cruel girl! You know I can't lengthen you till I'm married!
[_BLORE, the butler, a venerable-looking person, with rather a clerical suggestion about his dress, enters by the window._
BLORE.
[_Benignly._] The two soldier gentlemen have just rode hup, Miss Salome.
[_The girls clutch each other's hands._
SALOME.
You mean Major Tarver?
SHEBA.
And Mr. Darbey. They have called to inquire after poor Papa.
SALOME.
Poor Papa!
BLORE.
Shall I show them hin, Miss Sheba?
SHEBA.
Yes, Blore, dear, and hang your h's on the hat-stand.
[BLORE _laughs sweetly at SHEBA and shakes his fingers at her playfully._
BLORE.
[_Vindictively, behind their backs._] 'Ussies!
[_He goes out._
SALOME.
Am I all right, Sheba?
SHEBA.
Yes. Am I?
SALOME.
Yes. [_Looking out at window._] Here they are! How well Gerald Tarver dismounts! Oh!
SHEBA.
He left his liver in India, didn't he?
SALOME.
No--only part of it.
SHEBA.
Well--part of it.
SALOME.
And that he gave to his Queen, brave fellow!
SHEBA.
[_Seating herself in an artificial att.i.tude._] Where shall we be--here?
SALOME.
[_Running to the piano._] All right; you be admiring my voice!
SHEBA.
Oh, I dare say!
SALOME.
Here they are, and we're doing nothing!
SHEBA.
Let's run away and then come in unconsciously.
SALOME.
Yes--unconsciously.
[_They run off through the Library. BLORE shows in MAJOR TARVER and MR. DARBEY, who are both in regimentals. MAJOR TARVER is a middle-aged, tall, angular officer, with a thin face, yellow complexion, and red eyes. He is alternately in a state of great excitement and depression. MR. DARBEY is a mere boy, but with a pompous, patronizing manner._
DARBEY.
The Dean's out of the way, eh!
