The Squire Part 8

{Kate.} Is that the little girl who sings so sweetly in the choir?

{Gun.} Ay, her singing's sweet enough, but her behaviour's 'orrid.--_(coming down)_

{Kate.} Oh dear! Oh dear! _(Dor. resumes his seat)_

_(Felicity enters through the archway. Felicity is a pretty little girl with a sweet face and simple manner. Her dress is rustic, but clean and tidy.

She comes down R., C., and makes a curtsey.)_

_(R. of table)_ Sit down, Felicity. _(Fel. sits on stone C.)_

{Dormer.} In heaven's name, why Felicity?

{Gun.} _(C.)_ We called her Felicity, parson, because she was our thirteenth hoffspring.

{Eric.} Good gracious!

{Gun.} She's the only one left--the other dozen are all out in the world, some doin' precious well, some doin' precious bad--most of 'em precious bad.

{Kate.} Felicity's a great consolation to you, isn't she?

{Gun.} Squire, that gell is a weight on my chest.

You wouldn't guess it to look at her, but Felicity Gunnion is a desolate character.

{Kate.} A desolate character!

{Gun.} A mad-brained, rampagious, desolate character.

She's had as fine a schooling as you, Squire --pianner, twelve lessons--singing, six lessons-- deportment, as they call it--deportment, I taught her.

Notwithstanding the all o' which, her writin's despisable, her grammar's shockin', her spellin's beastly --and, Lord, oh, Lord, she's in love with a soldier!

_(works round behind Felicity to R., of her during speech)_

{Eric.} _(shuddering)_ Ugh! What depravity.

{Kate.} Why, Felicity, come here. _(Fel. crosses to R., of Kate)_ In love with a soldier? _(kisses her)_ Is that true, dearie?

{Fel.} It's true, Squire. He's in the 84th now at Pagley Barracks.

{Kate.} That's Mr. Thornd.y.k.e's regiment.

{Fel.} _(curtseying to Eric)_ Then you'd know him, sir; a fine looking gentleman, with a dark moustache --Serjeant Tom Morris.

{Eric.} Morris! Oh, yes, I know him. _(aside)_ Morris! Poor little soul.

{Dormer.} What do you want with me, Gunnion?

{Gun.} Why, parson, I thought, the gell being in the choir, and sittin' well forrard in the gallery, as how you might, so to speak, preach right full at her.

The Serjeant goes to church, too, and you could lug him in at the finish with the sinners.

{Fel.} Oh, don't, parson, don't!

{Dormer.} Is the girl happy at home?

{Fel.} No, parson, that's it--I'm not happy at home. I--I--I'm not fond of dear father.

{Gun.} Ye hear that? It's not the first time she's said it. She said it o' Friday.

{Kate.} _(to Fel.)_ Hus.h.!.+ You mustn't speak like that. I loved my father so much, and his memory is the sweetest thing left me.

{Fel.} Yes, Squire, and I'm sure I shall love father's memory. But he's not kind, and he's rude to those who are good to me, especially the Serjeant.

And I've said that I'll run away, and I mean it, for you know I'm to be Tom Morris's wife, and travel with him to the beautiful places where the regiment goes.

{Kate.} _(aside to Dor.)_ What shall I do, parson?

_(Kate and Dormer rise--Gunnion pinches Felicity.)_

{Dormer.} _(aside)_ She's only a baby! Keep her as long as you can, Gunnion!

_(Gun. and Dor. speak up stage C, in archway.)_

{Kate.} _(Eric rises and stands R., C., To Fel., pointing to door L.)_ Go to that door, child, and call "Christie." _(Fel. crosses to L., door. Kate goes to Eric R. C.--to Eric)_ Do you know this Morris?

{Eric.} Yes.

{Kate.} What kind of man is he?

{Fel.} _(at door L.)_ Christie!

{Eric.} The biggest scoundrel in the regiment.

_(Christiana appears at door L.)_

{Chris.} _(to Fel.)_ Who are you?

{Fel.} I'm Gunnion's daughter.

{Chris.} _(frowning)_ Who told you to call "Christie"?

{Eric.} _(to Kate)_ Poor little woman--do her a good turn, _(strolls off R., 1, E.)_

_(Kate sits on stone R., C.)_

{Kate.} Felicity! _(Fel. comes to her--Kate pa.s.ses across in front of her to R., Felicity kneels, Chris.

watches them with a dark look from door L., Gun.

and Dor. look on from up stage)_ Would you like to be my little maid, and brush my hair, and lace my dresses for me?

_(Fel. kneels beside Kate on her R.)_ And sing to me when I'm lonely?

{Fel.} Oh, Squire! And I can darn, and mend, and mark, and I can read, and, Squire--

{Kate.} Well?