Six Plays by Lady Florence Henrietta Fisher Darwin Part 19

[THOMAS and GEORGE go out of the back kitchen door. EMILY begins putting the irons away, folding up the ironing sheet and setting the chairs back against the wall.

[JESSIE and ROBIN, from their places at the table, watch her intently.

EMILY. [As she moves about.] 'Twouldn't be half the upset if the wench was coming by herself, but to have a hussy of a serving maid sticking about in the rooms along of us, is more nor I can stand.

[She begins violently to sweep up the hearth.

[Steps are heard outside.

JESSIE. Hark, what's that, mother?

EMILY. I'll give it to any one who wants to come in here.

JESSIE. [Running to the open door.] They're coming up the path.

'Tis our fine auntie and two grand gentlemen either side of she.

ROBIN. [Running also to the door.] O I want to look on her too.

EMILY. [Putting the broom in a corner.] 'Tis no end to the vexation. But she'll have to wait on herself. I've no time to play the dancing bear. And that I've not.

[JOAN, between MILES HOOPER and LUKE JENNER, comes up to the open door.

MILES. [To Jessie.] See here, my little maid, what'll you give Mister Hooper for bringing this pretty lady safe up to the farm?

JESSIE. I know who 'tis you've brought. 'Tis my Aunt Clara.

LUKE. You're a smart little wench, if ever there was one.

ROBIN. I know who 'tis, too, 'cause of the spangled plumes in the bonnet of she. Mother said as there'd be some.

EMILY. [Coming forward.] Well, Clara, if 'twas by the morning coach as you did come, you're late. If 'twas by th' evening one, you're too soon by a good few hours.

MILES. Having come by the morning coach, Miss Clara had the pleasant fancy to stroll here through the woodlands, Missis Spring.

LUKE. Ah, and 'twas lost on the way as we did find her, like a strayed sheep.

MILES. And ours has been the privilege to bring the fair wanderer safely home.

EMILY. [Scornfully looking JOAN over from head to foot.] Where's that serving wench of yours got to, Clara?

MILES. Our young missy had a wish for solitude. She sent her maid on by another road.

EMILY. The good-for-nothing hussy. I warrant as she have found something of mischief for her idle hands to do.

MILES. If I may venture to say so, our Miss Clara is somewhat fatigued by her long stroll. London young ladies are very delicately framed, Missis Spring.

EMILY. [Pointing ungraciously.] There's chairs right in front of you.

[MILES and LUKE lead JOAN forward, placing her in an armchair with every attention. JOAN sinks into it, and, taking a little fan from the silken bag on her arm, begins to fan herself violently.

EMILY. [Watching her with fierce contempt.] Maybe as you'd like my kitchen wench to come and do that for you, Clara, seeing as your fine maid is gadding about the high roads instead of minding what it concerns her to attend to.

JOAN. [Faintly.] O no, thank you. The day is rather warm--that's all.

EMILY. Warm, I should think it was warm in under of that great white curtain.

JESSIE. Aunt Clara, I'm Jessie.

JOAN. Are you, my dear?

ROBIN. And I'm Robin.

MILES. Now, I wager, if you are both good little children, this pretty lady will give you each a kiss.

JOAN. [Faintly.] To be sure I will.

JESSIE. Then you'll have to take off that white thing from your face. 'Tis like what mother do spread over the currant bushes to keep the birds from the fruit.

[JOAN slowly raises her veil, showing her face.

JESSIE. Shall I give you a kiss, Aunt?

EMILY. I'd be careful if I was you, Jess. Fine ladies be brittle as fine china.

JESSIE. O I'll kiss her very lightly, Mother.

[She goes up to JOAN and kisses her. ROBIN then reaches up his face and JOAN kisses him.

ROBIN. [Rubbing his mouth.] The flour do come from Aunt same as it does from a new loaf.

MILES. [To JOAN.] You must pardon these ignorant little country brats, Miss Clara.

JOAN. O there's nothing amiss, thank you.

EMILY. Amiss, who said as there was? When folks what can afford to lodge at the inn do come down and fasten theirselves on the top of poor people, they must take things as they do find them and not start grumbling at the first set off.

LUKE. There, there, Missis Spring. There wasn't naught said about grumbling. But Miss Clara have come a smartish long distance, and it behoves us all as she should find summat of a welcome at the end of her journey, like.

MILES. [Aside to JOAN.] How strange this country tongue must fall on your ears, Miss Clara!

JOAN. I don't understand about half of what they say.

EMILY. [Overhearing her.] O, you don't, don't you. Well, Clara, I was always one for plain words, and I say 'tis a pity when folks do get above the position to which they was bred, and for all the fine satins and plumes upon you, the body what's covered by them belongs to Clara Spring, what's sister to Thomas. And all the world knows what Thomas is--A poor, mean spirited, humble born man with but two coats to the back of him, and with not a thought to the mind of him which is not foolishness. And I judge from by what they be in birth, and not by the bags of gold what have been left them by any old madams in their dotage. So now you see how I takes it all and you and me can start fair, like.

JOAN. [To LUKE.] O Mister--Mister Jenner, I feel so faint.

MILES. [Taking her fan.] Allow me. [He begins to fan her.] I a.s.sure you she means nothing by it. It's her way. You see, she knows no better.

LUKE. I'd fetch out summat for her to eat if I was you, missis.