Fifty Contemporary One-Act Plays Part 211

ANNE. Yes, rather. [_Then eagerly._] What do they say?

RUTH. Oh, all sorts of things. Some of them horrid, of course! You can't blame them for being jealous. Here you are having just the sort of experience that any one of them would give their eye teeth to have.

_I'd_ be jealous if you weren't my sister. As it is, I seem to get some of the glory myself.

ANNE [_pleads, but disparaging_]. But every girl has this experience sooner or later.

RUTH. Oh, not in this way. Everything that Harold does is beautiful, ideal. Jane Fenwick showed me some of Bob's letters. They were so dull, so prosaic! All about his salary and the corn crop. I was disgusted with them. So was she, I think, when she saw Harold's letters.

ANNE. Oh, you showed them to Jane, too?

RUTH [_a bit frightened_]. No, really I didn't. Caroline did. I lent her my notebook once overnight, and she gave Jane a peek--in the _strictest_ confidence. Jane really needed it. She was getting so c.o.c.ky about Bob.

Girls are funny things, aren't they?

ANNE [_who has been keenly interested in all of Ruth's gossip_]. What do you mean?

RUTH. It isn't so much the man, as the idea of a man--some one to dream about, and to talk about. When I think of getting engaged--I suppose I shall get engaged some day--I never think of being really, really kissed by a man--

ANNE. What do you think of?

RUTH. I always think of telling Caroline about it, showing my ring to her and to Madge. Oh, Madge is green with envy. I believe she thought Harold sort of liked her. [_Anne turns away._] She was so excited when she saw him in New York. She said she would have got off the bus and chased him, but he went into a house.... Anne, why didn't you tell us--me, at least--that Harold was back from South America, before we heard it from Madge?

ANNE. Just because.... I wanted to avoid all this.... It was hard enough to have him within a few hours' distance and know he could not get to me. But it was easier when no one else knew. Don't you understand?

RUTH. Yes, dear, of course I do--but still--

ANNE [_impatiently_]. Now, Ruth, it's quarter past four. You promised--

RUTH. I'm going ... right straight off ... unless--Oh, Anne, mayn't I stay and have just one peek. I won't let him see me, and then I'll run straight away?

ANNE. Oh, for heaven's sake, don't be naughty and silly! Clear out now, quickly, or--[_Changing her tone suddenly._] Ruth, dear, put yourself in my place. Think how you would feel if you were going to see the man you loved for the first time. That's what it really is. Think of it! Two years ago when he went away we were just the merest friends--and now--

RUTH. And now you're engaged to be married! Oh, isn't it the most romantic thing! Of course you want to be alone. Forgive me. Oh, Anne, how excited you must be!

ANNE [_with rather histrionic intensity_]. No, I'm strangely calm. And yet, Ruth, I'm afraid, terribly afraid.

RUTH. Why, what of?

ANNE [_acting_]. I don't know ... of everything ... of the unknown. All this has been so wonderful, if anything should happen I don't think I could bear it. I think I should die.

RUTH. Nonsense, dear, what can happen? You're just on edge. Well, I'll be off. I'll join Mother at Aunt Nellie's. Give my love to Harold. You know I've never called him anything but Mr. Lawson to his face. Isn't that funny? Good-by, dear. [_Throwing Anne a kiss._] You look so sweet.

ANNE [_her hands on Ruth's shoulders for an impressive moment_].

Good-by, Ruth. Good-by.

[_They kiss. Ruth goes. Left alone, a complete change comes over Anne. She drops the romantic att.i.tude. She is nervously determined. She quickly arranges the flowers, takes out the box, etc., straightens the room, and surveys herself rapidly in the mirror. There is a sound of wheels outside. Anne goes to the bay window and looks out. Then she stands erect in the grip of an emotion that is more like terror than antic.i.p.ation. Hearing the sound of footsteps on the stair she is panic-stricken and about to bolt, but at the sound of voices she pulls herself together and stands motionless._]

MAN'S VOICE [_outside_]. In here? All right!

[_Harold Lawson enters, a well set up, bronzed, rather commonplace young man of about twenty-eight. He sees no one on his entry, but as he advances into the room, Anne comes down from the bay window._]

HAROLD. h.e.l.lo, Miss Carey, how are you? Splendid to see you again, after all this time. [_Anne looks at him without speaking, which slightly embarra.s.ses him._] You're looking fine. How's your mother--and little Ruth?

ANNE [_slowly_]. Welcome home.

HAROLD. Oh, thanks. It's rather nice to be back in G.o.d's country. But it's not for long this time.

ANNE. Are you going away again?

HAROLD. Yes. I've another appointment. This one in India, some big salt mines. Not bad, eh? I made pretty good in Brazil, they tell me.

ANNE [_nervously_]. Sit down.

HAROLD. Thanks. Hot for September, isn't it? Though I ought to be used to heat by this time. Sometimes the thermometer would run a hundred and eight for a week on end. Not much fun, that.

ANNE. No, indeed.

HAROLD [_settling back comfortably to talk about himself_]. You know I loathed it down there at first. What with all the foreigners and the rotten weather and the bugs--thought I'd never get into the swing.

Wanted to chuck engineering for any old job that was cool, but after a while--

ANNE. How long have you been home?

HAROLD. About three weeks. I'd really been meaning to come out here and have a look round my old haunts, but there was business in New York, and I had to go South and see my family--you know how time flies. Then your note came. It was mighty jolly of you to ask me out here. By the way, how did you know I was back?

ANNE [_after a pause_]. Madge Kennedy caught sight of you in New York.

HAROLD. Did she really? How is little Madge? And that odd brother of hers. Is he just as much of a fool as ever? I remember once he said to me--

ANNE. Oh, I didn't ask you here to talk about Madge Kennedy's family.

HAROLD [_taken aback_]. No ... no, of course, not. I--I've been wondering just why you did ask me. You said you wanted to talk to me about something.

ANNE [_gently_]. Weren't you glad to come?

HAROLD. Why, of course I was. Of course. And then your note fired my curiosity--your asking me to come straight to you before seeing any one else.

ANNE. Aren't you glad to be here with me?

HAROLD. Why surely, of course, but--[_Pause._]

ANNE. You see, people seemed to expect you would come to see me first of all. I rather expected it myself. Don't you understand?

HAROLD [_very uncomfortably_]. No.... I'm afraid I don't....

ANNE. From the way you acted before you went away I thought you, yourself, would want to see me first of all.

HAROLD. Before I went away? What do you mean?

ANNE. You know well enough what I mean. The parties those last weeks--the theater we went to--the beautiful flowers you sent Mother--the letter--