The Sweet Girl Graduates Part 8

Bulbus on ladder, measuring the wall. Katherine enters and re-enters, with flowers and gifts. Miss Hoppenh.o.e.r flits in and out. Everybody nervous.)

_Katherine_ The bill's been a-ringin' all morning like that. (arranges flowers).

_Mr. B._ I should think you'd be tired. Ain't yer?

_Katherine_ No, it's as exciting as a wedding.

_Mr. B._ You wimmen like weddin's. I never see a woman as didn't.

_Katherine_ (wonderingly). Are you going to decorate the hall?

_Mr. B._ (largely). Of course,--palms and ropes of smilax--

(Enter Jack, carrying his hat and gloves.)

_Jack_ (agreeably). Good morning, Katherine. I let myself in, you not being a regiment. (Katherine goes). Good morning, Mr. Bulbus. You look pretty festive in here. (examines bouquets, reading cards aloud and commenting). "Compliments of Harold Taylor."--Umph, got them here in time, I should say. "With love of Edith."--girls always put on "with love of." "Wis.h.i.+ng you a joyous day. d.i.c.k Dowell." That's nice of d.i.c.k, considering the late unpleasantness. "Lucile," of course; "Lucile" in white and gold! A girl couldn't graduate unless she had three 'Luciles' and a 'Maurine!' Golden Gate roses! Whew, that means dough! Professor Graham, I'll bet! He's got dough and cheek--

(Maude runs down the stairs.)

_Jack_ O, h.e.l.lo, Maude! (gives a long whistle). Aren't we fine? Swagger!

_Maude_ (imploringly). Jack, how do I look?

_Jack_ Turn around,--slowly. (Maude revolves very slowly.)

_Maude_ (anxiously). Well?

_Jack_ You look--you look--out of sight! By George, you do!

_Maude_ (caressing her dress skirt). You like the train?

(Mr. Bulbus gets down and goes out, unnoticed by Maude.)

_Jack_ It's splendid. You're a--a queen! I'd kiss you--

_Maude_ (startled). H-u-s-h! Mr. Bulbus!

_Jack_ (coolly). Oh, he's gone.

_Maude_ Goodness, what if he'd been there!

_Jack_ (comfortably). He wasn't.

_Maude_ (trying to see the back of her train in gla.s.s). But you didn't know it!

_Jack_ Don't you think I didn't know it! 'Spose I want to make the poor duffer green with envy? I can't kiss you anyway, you're too fine.

_Maude_ No, I can't even sit down! Jack, you look awfully handsome.

_Jack_ Thank you. Would you wear a rose?

_Maude_ Of course--one of d.i.c.k's. Nice of d.i.c.k, wasn't it? (gets one; puts it on; an operation requiring time and patience).

_Jack_ Don't leave so much green show. I want a contrast, not a study in tints.

_Maude_ Don't touch me! Hold your arms out straight.

_Jack_ (standing like a sign post). Then hurry up! I am not the stuff martyrs are made of.

_Maude_ Is that all right?

_Jack_ Stand off and get the effect. How can I tell?

_Maude_ (standing back). Put down your arms!

_Jack_ (obediently). Well?

_Maude_ (with enthusiasm). Perfectly lovely! My, I shall be proud of you! For pity's sake, don't look at me!

_Jack_ Can't help it.

_Maude_ I don't mean now--goosey! I mean when I read. If I should forget!

_Jack_ You won't! Keep your eye on Old South Church and--

_Maude_ On what?

_Jack_ I beg your pardon. On Miss Rantum.

_Maude_ Oh! It must be time,--where is everybody?

_Jack_ I'm here, (sits on arm of chair and gazes at her.)

_Maude_ O you, yes! But I mean mamma! I am so nervous!

_Jack_ You girls just try to be nervous. You think it's becoming.

(Enter Mrs. De Smythe, in black silk.)

_Mrs. De S._ The carriages have come. Where can Papa be?

_Maude_ (in dismay). O, it isn't time, is it? O horrors, where is my essay? Jack, please look in my desk.

(Jack dashes out.)

_Maude_ Mamma, is my hair all right?

_Mrs. De S._ Yes, Maudie, yes, (dismally) you look lovely.