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{Kate.} Poor father used to feel great interest in the colouring of a clay pipe.
{Dormer.} _(with interest)_ Did he? I think better of him for it.
{Kate.} But father had great troubles, which made him throw his pipes at the servant, _(rises, comes across to Dormer, who is seated L., C., again, and offers pipe which she has filled, then strikes a match which she has brought from R., table)_ I could load a pipe very nicely once--father used to say I crammed pretty thoughts into it. _(quickly)_ Of course I don't want you to say that if you don't think so. _(gives him the match)_
{Dormer.} _(lighting pipe)_ Thank ye.
_(Kate goes back to R., and puts matches on table.
Chris. enters from house R., C. carrying a basket neatly packed and covered with a white napkin.)_
{Chris.} _(comes down steps to C.)_ The basket is packed, parson. Chicken and jelly, sponge cakes, grapes--_(seeing Dormer in his coat sleeves)_ Well, I never--!
{Dormer.} Have you never seen a man with his coat off before?
{Chris.} Never a clergyman, sir!
{Kate.} Call Gilbert, Christie; he's by the kennel.
_(sitting R.)_
{Chris.} _(goes up through the archway and calls)_ Gilbert!
{Kate.} Would the sick lady like me to see her, parson?
{Dormer.} No, she doesn't speak in your language.
{Kate.} A foreigner!
_(Gil. enters at bach from R., takes the basket from {Chris.} and comes down R., C. to Kate. Chris.
drops down L.)_
{Gil.} I shall bring the keys of the barns and the oats house to you to-night, Squire, also my books and such like. I should feel happier if you'd take them from me.
{Kate.} Very well, Gilbert. And as you pa.s.s the cottages, tell Gunnion, the shepherd, to come to me --he will do your duties from to-morrow.
{Gil.} Gunnion's a very old man.
{Kate.} I know that _(looking at him)_ but it's safer.
_(Gil. turns away and goes to Dormer.)_
{Gil.} Er--is--there--any message--with the basket?
{Dormer.} No--I'll follow you when I've smoked my pipe.
{Gil.} _(rests his gun against the R., side of the arch. To Chris.)_ I'll come back for the gun, Christie.
_(Chris. goes into outhouse L.)_
_(As Gil. walks through the archway, Lieutenant Thornd.y.k.e pa.s.ses him with a careless nod.)_
{Eric.} _(to Gil.)_ h.e.l.lo, Hythe! Playing at Little Red Riding Hood? Mind the wolf. _(Gil. looks angrily at him, and goes off L., Eric comes down; he is a handsome young fellow with an indolent manner. Crossing to Kate)_ How do you do, Squire?
{Kate.} _(carelessly)_ What brings you here?
{Eric.} Strolled over from barracks--doctor says I must walk, and your place is somewhere to walk to.
{Kate.} Do you know Mr. Dormer?
{Eric.} _(turning to Dor.)_ No, but my mother does. How do you do? _(Eric shakes hands with Dormer. Dor. draws his hand away quickly and puts his hand in trousers pocket)_ Mrs. Thornd.y.k.e is a paris.h.i.+oner of yours, Mr. Dormer--her son ought to know a little of you.
{Dormer.} If her son attended his church regularly, he would know a little of me.
{Eric.} So my mother says. And you're not afraid of catching cold?
{Dormer.} No, sir! I am not. _(irritably)_ Have you never seen a man with his coat off?
{Eric.} I beg your pardon--never a clergyman.
_(Kate has finished mending the coat and has risen.
Eric takes out his cigar case.)_
_(offering it to Dormer)_ Smoke a cigar, parson?
{Kate.} _(catching his arm)_ No! _(confused)_ I-- I like to see the parson with a pipe, _(aside)_ He mustn't see that! _(she points to the inside flap of the case, which is worked with an inscription in silk, and crosses behind Eric to Dormer)_
{Eric.} _(aside--reading inscription)_ "Kate's love to Eric." Oh! by Jove, I forgot! _(he crams cigar case hurriedly into his pocket; Kate crosses to Dor.
L. C. with coat. Eric saunters over to garden seat R.
and sits. Kate a.s.sists Dor. to put on his coat)_
{Eric.} _(lazily)_ I really must give up walking, I'm quite knocked up.
{Dormer.} The British officer seems very easily knocked up.
_(Kate gets L., behind table.)_
{Eric.} The British officer, at whose expense so many people make merry, is a mild creature in "piping times of peace"--no offence to the clay, parson.
_(Eric lights a cigar. Dor. crosses to R., C., to speak to him. Kate looks on anxiously, fearing a quarrel.)_
{Dormer.} And in times of war, sir?
{Eric.} The British officer, I am credibly informed, is a demon when roused, _(putting his legs up on garden seat)_ I have never been roused. You don't like my profession, parson?
{Dormer.} No, sir, I do not.
{Eric.} I often wish my mother had made me a parson.
{Dormer.} Why, sir?