Green Stockings Part 15

(_They all turn away hurriedly, quickly putting down the things they have been offering_ CELIA _and laughing nervously_.)

OMNES. Not at all, dear. Not unusually so. Not a bit. (_Etc., etc_.)

GRICE. Cake, with plums in it.

CELIA. (_Exchanges looks with_ AUNT IDA, _who has worked down_ L.

_after_ FARADAY _has gone up_ C. AUNT IDA _nods her head.

Indifferently_) Any news in the Times?

OMNES. _The Times? The Times? Why, no, I don't imagine so. Have you seen the Times? Now where has Martin put that Times?_ (_Etc., etc_.

NOTE: _This should come to a crescendo and then die down_.)

EVELYN. (_In a loud, hoa.r.s.e whisper to_ TARVER) Oh, say something.

TARVER. (_Very nervously_) No, I don't think there was anything, was there, Admiral?

GRICE. (_Mournfully, staring straight ahead of him_) Nothing very lively.

OMNES. (_In a strained whisper_) Admiral!

FARADAY. (_To relieve situation. Gayly_) Now where has the Times got to?

(TARVER _rises and looks in fireplace, muttering to himself_.)

PHYLLIS _and_ MADGE. Where is the Times? Have you seen the Times? I wonder what could have happened to it? (_Etc_.)

(GRICE _rises and turns_ R. _and starts up stage. The Times falls out from his back. There is general consternation_.)

CELIA. (_Seeing Times on floor_) Why, there it is, isn't it?

FARADAY. (_In mock, great surprise_) G.o.d bless my soul! So it is.

(TARVER _sinks down on fender_.)

GRICE. (_Coming down stage and picking up paper_) Now, how did that get there?

CELIA. May I see it, if everyone has quite finished? (_Holds out hand for paper_. GRICE _reluctantly gives paper to her. She opens it and reads. All watch her, strained and anxiously. Cheerfully_) Births, marriages, deaths. I always look first at that column, you know.

(_After a pause. Laughing a little_) How very amusing!

OMNES. Amusing? Celia!! Great Scott! G.o.d bless my soul!

CELIA. (_Reading_) "On October the 11th----"

EVELYN. (_Almost with a sob_) _Eleventh!_

CELIA. "Elsie Hardiman to Alfred Bryce." (_All give tremendous sigh of relief. Looking up_) Why didn't somebody tell me Elsie Hardiman was engaged?

FARADAY. (_Comes to chair_ R. _of_ L. _table and lays m.u.f.f down on book rack_) I wouldn't go into that, Celia. I wouldn't pursue _that_ line of inquiry any further if I were _you_, my dear. (_Tries to take paper_.)

CELIA. (_Retaining her hold on paper_) I just want to see if anybody is dead, Father. (_Puts out a hand surrept.i.tiously and pulls_ AUNT IDA _near her. They all watch her with tragic anxiety. She sees notice, reads it, and utters a long, low cry of grief, then lets paper drop on table and with another long moan, rises and buries her face in_ AUNT IDA'S _shoulder_.)

(TARVER _curls up in chair extreme_ R., _pulling his moustache_.)

PHYLLIS. (_Making sympathetic motion forward_) Celia--darling.

AUNT IDA. (_Waving her handkerchief up and down_) Sh--sh--sh--s.h.!.+

(_They stand in grief-stricken att.i.tudes, contemplating her_.)

FARADAY. (_Brokenly_) Celia--my child----

AUNT IDA. (_Waving her handkerchief up and down_) Sh--sh--sh--s.h.!.+

EVELYN. _Poor Celia!_

AUNT IDA. Sh--sh--sh--s.h.!.+ (_Pause_.) I think--she will--say something soon.

CELIA. (_Raising a flushed, quivering face from_ AUNT IDA'S _shoulder_) So you were all--trying to keep this--from me?

GRICE. (_Coming down_ R.) G.o.d help us, we were. (_Takes off his gla.s.ses and wipes his eyes_.)

PHYLLIS. Ah--Celia.

AUNT IDA. (_In same queer, choked way_) Wouldn't it be better if you all left her alone--with me?

FARADAY. (_Much relieved_) Quite so. Quite so. Come, children.

(_Crosses a few steps up and right. The girls, with_ PHYLLIS _first_, MADGE, _then_ EVELYN, _form a line and, with bowed heads and folded hands, walk across the morning room door_. TARVER _rises and walks mournfully up to door_.) Come, Admiral.

GRICE. (_Crossing up_ R.) No, Faraday. I'll take my leave from this house of grief. (_Exits through card room_.)

CELIA. (_Comes_ L.C.) Wait, Father. (_The girls halt in doorway_, TARVER _above sofa_) I only want to say that I don't intend to let this news make any difference--outwardly. You see you never knew what I knew--about him, so I can't expect you to realize all that I've lost. I don't see what's to be gained by any parade of grief, so I'll go to this dinner party to-night and try to act as though nothing whatever had happened.

TARVER. (_Beaming_) That's splendid of you, Celia. It's much the wisest not to give way to sorrow. But you will get those votes you promised me, won't you?

FARADAY. Take him away. Take him away.

(EVELYN _whirls_ TARVER _around and hands him unceremoniously off the stage_. FARADAY _exits. There is a pause, then_ AUNT IDA _and_ CELIA _burst into hearty laughter_. AUNT IDA _crosses to table_ R., _sits, and_ CELIA _sits on the arm of her chair_.)

CELIA. Oh, Aunt Ida. Didn't we get through that splendidly?