The Trysting Place: A Farce in One Act

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The Trysting Place. _A Farce in One Act_

_By_ BOOTH TARKINGTON

[Illustration]

New York SAMUEL FRENCH Publisher 25 West 45th Street

London SAMUEL FRENCH, LTD. Publisher 26 Southampton St., Strand

COPYRIGHT, 1923 BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY

_All rights reserved_

The professional stage rights of this play are reserved by the Author. The amateur stage rights are held by the Ladies Home Journal. For permission to produce the play application should be made by professional producers to Mr. Booth Tarkington, Indianapolis, Indiana, and by amateur producers to the Editor of the Ladies Home Journal.

Printed in the United States of America

THE PEOPLE AS THEY COME INTO THE PLAY

MRS. CURTIS, _The Young Woman, twenty-five or perhaps even a little older_.

LANCELOT BRIGGS, _The Boy, slim and obviously under twenty_.

MRS. BRIGGS, _his mother, a handsome woman of forty-five or fifty_.

JESSIE, _his sister, a pretty girl of about twenty_.

RUPERT SMITH, _The Young Man, about twenty-five_.

MR. INGOLDSBY, _a man of fifty-five or, possibly, sixty_.

THE MYSTERIOUS VOICE, _male and adult_.

[Illustration]

The Trysting Place. _The scene is a room just off the “lounge” of a hotel in the country. However, this is not a “country hotel;” but, on the contrary, one of those vast and elaborate houses of entertainment that affect an expensive simplicity in what is called the colonial manner, and ask to be visited--by those financially able to do so--in the general interest of health and the outdoor life. The wall at the back of the stage is broken only by symmetrically spaced pilasters of an ivory color; each of the side walls is broken in the same manner; but here the pilasters help to frame two rather broad entrances, one at the right and one at the left, and beyond these entrances, on both sides, we have glimpses of the two corridors that lead to them. There are a few old prints--or new prints from old plates--upon the walls; and there are flowering plants on stands in the corners. The furniture consists of some chintz-covered easy-chairs, a light wicker settee with a chintz cushion and a valance that reaches the floor; and there are two wicker tables with a vase of jonquils upon each of them. In the rear right-hand corner of the room, near the stand of plants, there is a tropical-looking chair, wicker, with a back of monstrous size--a Philippine Island chair--and in the opposite corner is its mate._

_Dance music is heard from a distant orchestra. Just after the rise of the curtain two people come in together from the left--a young woman of twenty-five, or perhaps she is even a little older, and a slim boy obviously under twenty. She is rather elaborate in her afternoon indoor dress, but none the less effectively pretty; he is of a scrubbed and sleeked youthfulness, in white trousers, a short black coat and dancing shoes; and from the moment of his first appearance he is seen to be in an extremity of love. He leans as near the young woman as he can; his eyes search her face yearningly and without intermission; he caroms into her slightly as they come in, and repeats the carom unwittingly. They have evidently just come from the dancing floor and are a little flushed; she fans herself with her handkerchief and he fans her with his. They are heard talking before they enter: “Oh, let’s do find some place to sit down!” she is saying; and he, simultaneously: “Oh, wasn’t that divine! You dance just simply divinely!” These speeches “bring them on.”_

The Young Woman. Here’s a place we can sit down! (_She immediately drops into a chair._)

The Boy. Yes, this is a lovely place, where nobody is at all. It’s the only quiet place in the hotel: you never see more than two people here at a time, because it’s kind of off, like this. That’s why I wanted to walk this way. (_Sitting on a lounge and leaning toward her._) Isn’t it divine to be in a place where nobody is at _all_?

THE YOUNG WOMAN (_still fanning herself_)

Why, you and I are here.

The Boy. Yes; but I mean nobody else at all. We’re practically all alone, practically.

THE YOUNG WOMAN (_laughing as she waves her hand to indicate the spacious corridors to the right and left_)

Alone? Why, there are at least three hundred people in this hotel.

The Boy. Yes, but they’re all either outdoors, or dancin’, or havin’ tea, right now. It’s practically the same as being alone. It is--practically, I mean.

The Young Woman. Yes, I’ve noticed that it was a rather secluded spot myself. (_She glances about the room thoughtfully, then turns to him, smiling._) Don’t you want to run and dance with some of those pretty young girls your own age?

THE BOY (_with pained earnestness_)

Them? My goodness, no!

The Young Woman. Oh, but that isn’t normal, is it?

The Boy. I’m not normal. I don’t want to be normal.

The Young Woman. Well, but it would only be natural for you to like those pretty young things, so-- Well, _do_ run and dance with one of ’em. Won’t you, please?

THE BOY (_interrupting_)

No. They haven’t got any experience of life. What I like is a woman that’s had some experience of life, like you.

The Young Woman. But at your age--

The Boy. Age hasn’t got anything to do with it. The thing that brings a man and a woman together, it’s when they have about the same amount of experience of life.

THE YOUNG WOMAN (_absently_)

You think that’s it, Mr. Briggs? (_She looks about the room thoughtfully as she speaks._)

MR. BRIGGS (_with intense seriousness_)

I know it is. I had that feeling the minute I was introduced to you, night before last in the lobby--right by the third column beyond the office news stand, at a quarter after nine o’clock in the evening.

The Young Woman. You did?

Mr. Briggs. It came over me, and I felt kind of-- (_he swallows_) kind of drawn to you, Missuz--Missuz--Missuz-- (_He seems to hesitate somewhat emotionally._)

The Young Woman. My name is Mrs. Curtis. You seem to have forgotten it.

MR. BRIGGS (_swallowing again_)

I haven’t. I know it’s Curtis. The trouble is, it kind of upsets me to call you _Missuz_ Curtis. I thought it was Miss Curtis when I was introduced to you. I didn’t know your name was Missuz--Missuz--Missuz Curtis till the clerk told me, early the next morning.

MRS. CURTIS (_frowning a little_)

The clerk told you?

Mr. Briggs. Yes. I asked him if he’d noticed whether you’d gone in to breakfast yet. He said, “You mean Missuz--Missuz Curtis?” Then I knew you must be married. (_He shakes his head ruefully._)

MRS. CURTIS (_smiling_)

Well?

MR. BRIGGS (_thoughtfully_)

Well, it can’t be helped.

Mrs. Curtis. I suppose not.

MR. BRIGGS (_brightening a little_)

Well, anyhow, I had that--that sort of _drawn_ feeling toward you, the way I _would_ get toward a woman that’s had some experience of life; but a hotel like this is no place to explain feelings like that. You can’t when you’re dancing--not the way you want to--and all the rest of the time you had some o’ those _old_ men hangin’ around, or else my mother and sister wanted me for something; because a hotel like this--why, it’s terrible the way a young man’s mother and sister want him to do somep’n for ’em _all_ the time; so this is the first chance I’ve had.

MRS. CURTIS (_rather urgently_)

Don’t you really think you’d better be dancing with some of those young things yonder?

MR. BRIGGS (_puzzled_)

Think I’d _better_ be?

Mrs. Curtis. Yes; I do really wish you would. Wouldn’t it be a lot more fun than explaining something, as you said, to me?

MR. BRIGGS (_hurriedly_)

No. No, it wouldn’t. I want to explain how I feel about you.

Mrs. Curtis. Please go and dance, Mr. Briggs. I think it would be _much_ better if you--

MR. BRIGGS (_rapidly_)

No, it wouldn’t. I want to explain how I feel about you, so you’ll understand. It’s like this, Missuz (_swallowing again_) Missuz Curtis. I never used to think I’d ever get to feeling this way about--about somebody that was married, but it--it came over me before I knew you _were_ married. I already _was_ feeling this way before he said, “You mean--you mean Missuz Curtis?” It’d already--(_he swallows_) happened to me before I knew you were a--a married woman. (_Shaking his head._) I certainly never _did_ think I’d feel this way about a married woman.

Mrs. Curtis. But I’m not--not as you mean it. I’m a widow, Mr. Briggs.

MR. BRIGGS (_as in a dim perplexity_)

A wid-- You’re a widow? (_He jumps up suddenly, greatly amazed._) Oh, my!

Mrs. Curtis. What’s the matter?

Mr. Briggs. Oh, my!

Mrs. Curtis. What is it?

Mr. Briggs. I guess I’ve got to get used to the idea of it. First I thought you weren’t married, and then I was just gettin’ used to the idea that you _were_, and now--well, I s’pose it’s a good deal better, your bein’ a widow, though, except--except for--

Mrs. Curtis. Except for?

MR. BRIGGS (_hurriedly_)

Oh, I didn’t mean except for your _husband_! I didn’t mean your bein’ a widow was better for-- (_He checks himself and swallows._)

Mrs. Curtis. Oh!

MR. BRIGGS (_frowning with thought_)

No. I meant more on account of the way my family treats me. My mother and sister--well, to tell the truth, they always seem to think I’m about four years old. They can’t seem to _realize_; and when I go and tell ’em you’re a _widow_--

Mrs. Curtis. You think they’ll be interested in hearing it? I haven’t even met them.

Mr. Briggs. No, but--but of course they’ve been _talkin’_ about you quite a good deal.

Mrs. Curtis. They have?

Mr. Briggs. You know how people are in a hotel like this: wondering who everybody else _is_, and whether some woman’s some old man’s wife or his daughter or just a trained nurse, and all so on. Of course my family noticed _you_ right away and then after I _met_ you of course then they said a _lot_ more about you. Golly! (_He shakes his head, indicating that the comment has been unfavorable._)

Mrs. Curtis. Oh, indeed!

MR. BRIGGS (_ruefully_)

They watch me like a hawk, and I know what they’ll say now! When I tell ’em you’re a widow, I mean.

Mrs. Curtis. Do you?

MR. BRIGGS (_shaking his head_)

I certainly never thought myself I would ever get to feeling this way about a widow _either_!

Mrs. Curtis. Don’t you _really_ think you’d better run and dance with one of those--

MR. BRIGGS (_absently_)

No. (_Turning to her suddenly._) I was goin’ to ask you--well, of course, in a--a technical way, so to speak, I mean in a strickly technical way, so to speak, I’m not exactly of age yet, and I suppose I’d have to get my mother’s consent, because _she’s_ a widow, too, and got herself appointed my guardian besides; and the truth is, she’s a pretty cold-hearted, bossy kind of a woman, and it’s goin’ to be a big difficulty gettin’ her to see this thing right.

Mrs. Curtis. To see _what_ right?

Mr. Briggs. The way I feel about you. I know it’s goin’ to be difficult, because I started to talk a little about it last night to my mother and my sister--her name’s Jessie--and they behaved--well, they behaved a good deal like two fiends.

Mrs. Curtis. They did?

Mr. Briggs. I told ’em they didn’t know you, and they _haven’t_ even _met_ you, but they treated me like a--like a mere _jest_; and then they got so critical, the way they talked about you, it might be better if they didn’t see me with you again for a few days. I can’t stand the way they talk after they see me with you.

Mrs. Curtis. Indeed!

Mr. Briggs. Well, what I was saying: I can’t touch my principal till I’m twenty-one on account of the way my father went and tied up his will; but of course my mother and sister think a good many’ll be after me on account of it; but, anyhow, I _have_ got to feeling this way, and I know I’ll _never_ get over it, so what I wanted to ask you--well, it’s--it’s--(_he swallows_) it’s just this: I know you _are_ a widow and everything like that, but would you be willing to--(_he swallows_) well, of course I don’t know how long since you lost your first husband--

MRS. CURTIS (_incredulously_)

What! (_She rises._)

Mr. Briggs. I mean I--I don’t know how you _would_ feel about gettin’ married again yet, even if I didn’t have my own difficulties about it, but--but--

MRS. CURTIS (_with increased incredulity_)

Are you _proposing_ to me, Mr. Briggs?

Mr. Briggs. Well--uh--yes. (_Then, looking beyond her down the corridor on the right._) Oh, goodness. They watch me like a hawk! Here comes my mother! (_Dismayed, he turns to the left._)

MRS. CURTIS (_as he turns_)

Perhaps it was time!

MR. BRIGGS (_dismally_)

There’s my sister Jessie!

Mrs. Curtis. What of it?

MR. BRIGGS (_hastily_)

I told you they behave like two fiends when they see me with you. (_Glancing right and left nervously._) Well, excuse me. (_With perfect gravity he kneels at one end of the settee, which is in the rear, a little left of “center.”_) It’ll be a good deal better if they don’t see me, I expect. (_He promptly crawls under the settee, and the valance conceals him entirely. From this invisibility he appeals with pathetic urgency in a hoarse whisper_): They’ll prob’ly go right on. _Please_ wait! Or--if you _haf_ to go, come _back_!

(_Mrs. Curtis stands dumbfounded for a moment; and then, controlling a tendency to laugh immoderately, she turns to examine a print on the left wall as Mr. Briggs’s mother enters from the right. Mrs. Briggs is a handsome woman of forty-five or fifty, not now in a gracious mood. She comes in decisively, halts, and stares at Mrs. Curtis’ back. Then she looks over the room in an annoyed and puzzled manner. Mr. Briggs’s sister Jessie comes in from the left. She is a pretty girl of about twenty, but her expression is now rather cross. Her dress and equipment show that she has just come in from the golf course._)

JESSIE (_calling as she comes in_)

Lancelot! (_She halts, puzzled, and looks inquiringly at her mother._) Mamma, where’s Lancelot? I was sure I saw him in here just a second ago.

MRS. BRIGGS (_grimly_)

So was I. (_After looking at each other, they turn their heads simultaneously and stare at Mrs. Curtis, who appears to be interested in the print._) It’s very odd!

Jessie. Yes, very.

(_The two again look at each other, and at a little distance appear to consult telepathically, without any change of expression; then they turn once more to look at Mrs. Curtis._)

Mrs. Briggs. I beg your pardon, but I’m under the impression that you have met my son.

MRS. CURTIS (_turning_)

Yes?

Jessie. Wasn’t he here just now?

Mrs. Curtis. Yes, he was.

Mrs. Briggs. Would you be good enough to tell me, did he leave here to go to his room?

MRS. CURTIS (_casually_)

I don’t think so; he didn’t say so. (_She gives them a little nod, smiling politely, and goes out at the left. They stare after her._)

JESSIE (_still staring after Mrs. Curtis_)

She’s a very bold type.

MRS. BRIGGS (_seating herself on the settee_)

Very.

JESSIE (_turning to her_)

I don’t see how that little goose got away. You were coming from that direction and I from just yonder. I suppose he thought we’d say something that would embarrass him before her.

Mrs. Briggs. I suppose she’s thirty-five. I’ve heard of such people, but I never saw one before.

Jessie. I regard her as distinctly the dangerous type of adventuress.

Mrs. Briggs. Certainly. In the first place, her not having told the child frankly that she’s a widow. One of the clerks told _me_ she _was_.

Jessie. Oh, she did that to flatter him into believing he’s a real grown-up “man of the world” having an “affair”!

Mrs. Briggs. So that when he’s sufficiently entangled she can tell him she’s a widow--and by that time we don’t know _what_ he’d do! A country justice of the peace probably!

Jessie. Last night, when we were trying to teach him a little common sense about strange people in hotels, what was it he said she was? “An angel!”--oh, yes!--“One of heaven’s highest angels.”

MRS. BRIGGS (_grimly_)

He said he wouldn’t “listen to one of heaven’s highest angels gettin’ talked against by a lot o’ women!” I’m sure they heard him in the next suite. (_She rises._) I suppose you’d better go and see where he slipped out to, Jessie. Of course, he’ll try to find _her_ again as soon as he can.

JESSIE (_dropping into a chair_)

I played three times round the course. Do you mind if I just sit here a while and rest?

Mrs. Briggs. Then why don’t you go to your room?

JESSIE (_laughing feebly_)

I’m just too tired. I will in a minute. (_With a gesture toward the left entrance._) Hadn’t you better--

Mrs. Briggs. Keep her in sight? Yes. That’s easier than trying to keep _him_ in sight. You’re going up to your room right away, aren’t you?

Jessie. Yes, in only a minute. I really think you’d better go, Mamma. He might--

Mrs. Briggs. No, I’ll see to that! (_She goes out._)

(_Jessie stares after her for a moment, glances at a wrist watch, then rises and looks down the corridor beyond the entrance at the right. She appears to derive some satisfaction from what she sees there, returns to her chair and sits in a carefully graceful attitude, her expression demure. A moment later a young man--he is about twenty-five--comes in rather nervously from the right. He pauses near the entrance._)

THE YOUNG MAN

You!

JESSIE (_softly_)

You!

THE YOUNG MAN

Is your mother--

Jessie. She’s gone.

THE YOUNG MAN (_nervously advancing_)

I--I--

Jessie. I was afraid maybe we couldn’t have this nook to ourselves, after all. My absurd little brother was in here, hanging about that dreadful Mrs. Curtis, and I was afraid they wouldn’t go away; but Mamma scared ’em both off providentially.

THE YOUNG MAN (_moving a chair close to hers and sitting_)

And so we’re alone! (_He speaks with a sentimental hushedness._) All alone!

Jessie. All alone, Rupert! This is the only place in the hotel where you _can_ be by yourself a while. That’s why I said to meet here.

RUPERT (_nervously_)

You don’t think your mother’ll be back for a while?

Jessie. No; she won’t.

Rupert. She hasn’t found out I’ve come, has she?

Jessie. She hasn’t the remotest idea, thank heaven! Nobody dreams you’re within hundreds of miles of here. That’s one advantage of a big hotel.

Jessie. Yes, darling?

(_The settee moves slightly at this, but it is behind them and they do not see it._)

Rupert. I can’t understand why your mother dislikes me so.

JESSIE (_gravely_)

Well, I suppose her feeling about you is--well, she _says_ it’s because you’re rather poor and I’m--not.

Rupert. But what makes her think I care about you because you’re not?

Jessie. Well--

RUPERT (_leaning toward her and lowering his voice_)

Darling, there’s something I want to ask you--

JESSIE (_leaning toward him and almost whispering_)

Yes, dearest, what is it?

(_The settee slowly moves nearer them as their voices become more indistinct._)

Rupert. I want to ask you--

Jessie. Yes?

RUPERT (_with hushed tenderness_)

Do you _really_ love me, dearest?

JESSIE (_gazing upward, tranced_)

Oh, dearest, I do!

(_The settee goes back to where it came from._)

Rupert. But you don’t think your mother’ll ever change her mind about me?

Jessie. She never does change her mind.

Rupert. Then what can we do?

JESSIE (_in a low voice_)

Darling, there’s something I wouldn’t say for anything in the world to anybody but you.

(_The settee again approaches slightly._)

Rupert. Yes?

Jessie. I think Mamma really knows you’re not mercenary, but the _real_ reason for her opposition to you is pretty selfish. I think it’s because she doesn’t want me to marry and go away and leave her alone in the world.

Rupert. But she wouldn’t be. She’d still have the companionship of your young brother.

JESSIE (_shaking her head_)

That’d be the same as none. Lancelot seems to have scarcely _any_ sense, you see.

(_The settee once more retires._)

Rupert. Then I don’t see what possible hope--

JESSIE (_warning him as she sees someone approaching in the corridor to the right_)

Sh-h-h!

RUPERT (_following her gaze_)

Who _is_ that old chap?

Jessie. It’s old Mr. Ingoldsby. He’s some old friend of mamma’s that happened to turn up here.

RUPERT (_moving as if to withdraw_)

I’d better--

JESSIE (_quickly_)

No; he doesn’t know you. Sit still. (_She turns toward Mr. Ingoldsby with a smile as he enters._) Good afternoon, Mr. Ingoldsby. Did you do it in eighty-five again today?

(_Ingoldsby is a man of fifty-five or, possibly, sixty. He wears neat knickerbockers and is otherwise sprightly in his outdoor attire. He smiles rather absently as he replies._)

Ingoldsby. Eighty-five? No, I--ah--no. I didn’t go round today. Ah--has Mrs. Briggs been here?

Jessie. Here?

Ingoldsby. Yes, I mean--ah--here.

Jessie. I think she’s somewhere looking for Lancelot.

Ingoldsby. Yes? Ah--I--

Jessie. Is there something you’d like me to tell her when I see her?

INGOLDSBY (_going toward the left entrance_)

No; I--I-- (_He glances at his watch, and looks absently at Jessie._) No, I believe I-ah-- (_He departs._)

Rupert. Well, I _do_ hope nobody else’ll come poking about like that, because I--

Jessie. No, darling; we’re alone again now.

Jessie. Yes, darling?

Rupert. We’ve had such difficulties in managing our little interviews; it does seem a precious thing to be near you again.

Jessie. Oh, it does!

Rupert. If we could only go away together, where it could _always_ be like this--

JESSIE (_dreamily_)

Yes, with the world shut out.

Rupert. Why can’t we--

Jessie. Hush, darling.

(_She sees someone approaching in the corridor on the left. He looks dolefully in that direction._)

Jessie. It’s that dreadful woman.

Rupert. I don’t know her.

Jessie. She’s been trying to entangle Lancelot, and he’s completely lost what slight intelligence he _had_, the little ninny! She’s old enough to be his mother.

(_The settee makes a slight convulsive movement._)

Rupert. Sh! She’ll hear you.

(_Mrs. Curtis enters from the left. She looks about, with a faint embarrassment. Jessie stares at her, then speaks coldly._)

Jessie. I beg your pardon. Did you leave something when you were here with my little brother?

MRS. CURTIS (_smiling constrainedly_)

Did you happen to see a pair of white gloves?

(_Rupert rises and looks in his chair._)

Jessie. No. There aren’t any here.

Mrs. Curtis. I _may_ have left them anywhere of course. (_To Rupert_) Don’t bother, please. I thought just possibly-- (_She stoops slightly and looks behind the settee, and her expression shows a considerable illumination._) If I _had_ left anything here I just wanted to see if it was still--

Jessie. No; there aren’t any gloves here. (_She speaks in a sharp whisper to Rupert._) Sit down! (_He does so. Their backs are toward Mrs. Curtis._)

Mrs. Curtis. No. They don’t seem to be. I’m sorry to have disturbed you.

(_She moves toward the left entrance as she speaks. The settee follows her. She checks it with a sudden commanding push._)

Jessie. I hardly think my little brother will come back _here_. My mother went to look for him.

MRS. CURTIS (_politely_)

No doubt she’s found him by this time.

(_She looks from the settee to Jessie and Rupert, and back again; and her eyes widen with an intense inward struggle._)

JESSIE (_turning to look at her coolly_)

Was there anything else?

MRS. CURTIS (_after a moment, during which her inward struggle prevents her from replying_) Oh--oh, no! I’m so sorry to have disturbed you! (_Her voice threatens to break and she goes out hurriedly, at the left._)

JESSIE (_staring after her_)

Absolutely brazen! She came back after that idiot _boy_! Thought _he’d_ probably come back!

Darling--. JESSIE (_turning to him eagerly_)

Yes, darling--

RUPERT (_looking over her shoulder_)

Oh, my goodness! (_He speaks with intense anguish._)

JESSIE (_seizing his hand feverishly_)

What’s the matter, darling?

RUPERT (_rising_)

It’s your mother! (_He strides hastily backward out of sight from the left entrance._)

Jessie. Oh, murder!

Rupert. She didn’t see me, but she will if I try to go out there. (_He points to the right entrance._)

Jessie. She’s coming!

Rupert. This is awful! (_His despairing eye falls upon the huge Philippine chair in the left rear corner of the room; he rushes to it, turns it round, with its back toward the front, and sits in it, concealed from view. He speaks in a hoarse whisper._) Darling--

Jessie. Hush! (_She has checked an impulse to rise and fly; and now, affecting carelessness, she brushes her left sleeve with her right hand, crosses her knees, swings her foot, whistles an operatic air and looks at the ceiling. Mrs. Briggs enters at the left, frowning. Jessie addresses her cheerfully._) Back again, Mamma? Where’s Lancelot?

MRS. BRIGGS (_in an annoyed tone_)

I don’t know. I thought you were going straight to your room.

Jessie. Oh, I am.

Mrs. Briggs. Have you just been sitting here alone?

Jessie. Mrs. Curtis came back a minute ago looking for the child.

Mrs. Briggs. Yes; I saw _her_. Wasn’t anyone else--

JESSIE (_carelessly_)

Oh, yes; that Mr. Ingoldsby was here, too.

Mrs. Briggs. He was? (_She looks at her watch and then toward the corridor on the left._) You told me you were very tired and were going straight to your room.

JESSIE (_casually_)

Oh, well, I feel rested now.

Mrs. Briggs. You should lie down before dressing for dinner.

Jessie. Why don’t _you_ do that, Mamma? You know how it brightens you up.

MRS. BRIGGS (_frowning_)

Brightens me up? Really!

Jessie. Oh, I don’t mean like a _terribly_ aged person; but a nap every day’s a good thing for everybody.

MRS. BRIGGS (_stiffly_)

I _took_ a nap after lunch. Really, it’s time you went.

Jessie. Oh, I’ll just sit around a while longer. I rather like to just sit around and do nothing, like this.

Mrs. Briggs. You _said_ you were going, and you ought to do things when you say you’re going to do them.

Jessie. But _why_? Why can’t I just sit around here a little longer if I want to?

Mrs. Briggs. Because you said you--

Jessie. Oh, what if I did! Haven’t I got a right to change my mind?

Mrs. Briggs. I insist on your lying down for half an hour before you dress for dinner. What makes you so obstinate about it? Have you any _reason_ for wishing not to do this simple thing? Is there anything you’re trying to conceal from me, Jessie?

JESSIE (_rising hastily_)

Certainly not!

MRS. BRIGGS (_severely_)

You haven’t any particular reason for staying here and not going to your room as you said you would?

Jessie. No!

Mrs. Briggs. Then--

Jessie. Oh, I’ll go; but I don’t understand why you make such a point of it!

MRS. BRIGGS (_a little flustered_)

A point of it? I? I’m not making a point of it! I don’t at all, except--except for your health.

JESSIE (_going_)

My _health_! (_She halts._) What nonsense!

Mrs. Briggs. Your health is the only thing to consider. You’ve started; why don’t you _go_?

Jessie. But what’s the _hurry_?

Mrs. Briggs. Hurry? Oh, none! I just meant, as you _are_ going, why shouldn’t you _go_ and get it over?

Jessie. What makes you so queer?

MRS. BRIGGS (_with quiet severity_)

Queer? You call your mother queer? It seems to me you’re the one that’s behaving queerly. Jessie, is there anything you’re trying to--

Jessie. No! Don’t get so upset. I’ll go!

(_She goes out at the left. Mrs. Briggs stares after her for a moment; looks in the opposite direction; then seats herself upon the settee, and from the midst of a handkerchief which she has crumpled in her hand produces a small gold vanity box. She opens it, gazes in the tiny mirror, touches her hair, glances right and left, and uses a diminutive powder puff quickly; then she closes the box, conceals it in her handkerchief again, and hums a song to herself. Mr. Ingoldsby enters at the left. He has an air slightly embarrassed._)

MRS. BRIGGS (_as if surprised_)

Oh!

Ingoldsby. Ah--I was here a while ago. It was a little earlier than our--our appointment; if I may call it so. (_He laughs nervously._)

MRS. BRIGGS (_smiling_)

Well, I suppose it _could_ be called an appointment--in a way.

Ingoldsby. I--I thought--that is, I’ve noticed this was about the only place in the hotel where there aren’t usually a lot of people. I suggested it because--because I had something to say--ah--I mean that I thought it would be as well to say it in private--as it were. That is, if we were alone together, I--ah--that is to say, it’s something I couldn’t very well say in--in public, so to speak. I mean it would be difficult with other people present.

MRS. BRIGGS (_smiling nervously_)

Is it something very mysterious, Mr. Ingoldsby?

Ingoldsby. I wish you wouldn’t call me that.

MRS. BRIGGS (_seriously_)

You want me to call you Henry?

Ingoldsby. You did once.

MRS. BRIGGS (_rising in some agitation_)

Yes, but that was pretty long ago.

INGOLDSBY (_sharply_)

I called you Fannie then.

MRS. BRIGGS (_more agitated_)

I don’t think we should ever refer to it. When an episode is as long buried as--

INGOLDSBY (_his own agitation increasing_)

Episode? See here, Fannie; you know why I stayed a bachelor. You do know.

MRS. BRIGGS (_protesting quickly_)

No, no! I have no responsibility for that!

Ingoldsby. Haven’t you? When you broke your engagement to me--

MRS. BRIGGS (_crying out, though she suppresses the loudness of her voice_)

It was a misunderstanding, Henry.

Ingoldsby. It was not. I’ve held my peace in silence all these years because of my principles. I wouldn’t refer to such things with you when you had become a married woman. But I can speak now. You deliberately broke off with me--

MRS. BRIGGS (_choking_)

I didn’t!

INGOLDSBY (_with a suppressed passion_)

You did! (_He paces the floor as he goes on._) You decided Lance Briggs was the better man, and you sent me my ring and letters without a single word explaining why you did it.

Mrs. Briggs. Oh!

Ingoldsby. You did!

Mrs. Briggs. Is it fair to attack me with that now?

Ingoldsby. Fair? How _dare_ you speak of _fairness_ to _me_?

Mrs. Briggs. But you _knew_ why I did it.

INGOLDSBY (_bitterly_)

I did indeed! It was simply because you were of a fickle nature. Of course you didn’t have the courage to explain _that_.

MRS. BRIGGS (_with great emotion_)

But you don’t know the pressure, the awful pressure my mother brought to bear on me. She simply _made_ me marry him, Henry. It was night and day, day and night, week in, week out--

Ingoldsby. And you never for one moment had the simple bravery, the simple _loyalty_ to the man you’d given your word to--

Mrs. Briggs. I was worn out. I was--

Ingoldsby. You didn’t care enough for me to--

Mrs. Briggs. I _did_!

Ingoldsby. No! No! No!

MRS. BRIGGS (_piteously_)

Henry, you _must_ listen to me! (_She puts her hand on his arm._)

INGOLDSBY (_moving away from her_)

Why didn’t you say that _then_? Why didn’t--

Mrs. Briggs. I loved you--I did, Henry! I simply let my mother break my will and wreck our two lives.

Ingoldsby. What folly! You were perfectly happy with Briggs. I don’t know _how_ many people told me you were.

Mrs. Briggs. I did my duty, and I tried to do it cheerfully; but the scar was always there, Henry.

INGOLDSBY (_harshly_)

I don’t believe it!

MRS. BRIGGS (_plaintively_)

It was, Henry. (_She sinks into the chair Jessie has occupied._)

INGOLDSBY (_swallowing_)

What?

MRS. BRIGGS (_feebly_)

It was, Henry--the scar was always there. (_Her head droops._)

(_He walks across the room, then returns to her and looks down upon her._)

INGOLDSBY (_swallowing_)

Do you know what my life has been?

MRS. BRIGGS (_tremulously, not looking up_)

I--I heard you became very--very prosperous in--in real estate.

Ingoldsby. Yes. What’s that to fill a man’s life? Look at the difference! You have children to be a comfort to you in your--your--as you approach middle age. I have nothing.

MRS. BRIGGS (_pathetically, still looking down_)

Oh, I’m sure you have something.

Ingoldsby. I tell you I have nothing--nothing in the world to make life worth living, not a thing on earth! (_He glances about, then sits beside her and speaks in a very low voice._) Fannie--Fannie--

(_The settee approaches a little nearer._)

MRS. BRIGGS (_also in a very low voice_)

Well?

Ingoldsby. Fannie--I--I--Fannie--I-- (_His emotion is difficult to control and his voice fades out into a murmur of several slight incoherent sounds, whereupon the settee again moves slightly closer._)

Mrs. Briggs. Yes, Henry?

Ingoldsby. You said your life was wrecked, though you bore it dutifully and--and cheerfully. Mine--_my_ life--it was withered!

MRS. BRIGGS (_murmuring_)

Oh--Henry!

Ingoldsby. But, after all, our lives aren’t over.

MRS. BRIGGS (_shaking her down-bent head and protesting in a weak voice_)

Oh, no, no! Don’t begin to talk that way.

Ingoldsby. Fannie, I never got over it. As time went on, I took up my work and tried to do my part in the world, but--but I never got over it, Fannie. I’m not over it now.

MRS. BRIGGS (_turning to him mournfully_)

Oh, yes, you are!

INGOLDSBY (_shaking his head_)

I’m not. I still--I still--I still--I still--

(_The settee again moves a little nearer_.)

Mrs. Briggs. No, no.

Ingoldsby. I do. I still--I still--

MRS. BRIGGS (_in a faint and tearful protest_)

No, you don’t, Henry. You only think you do.

Ingoldsby. No, I really do. I--I--I care for you yet, Fannie.

MRS. BRIGGS (_recovering herself enough to smile faintly as she shakes her head_)

Oh, my, no!

Ingoldsby. Fannie, let’s--let’s save these years that we still have before us. Let’s try to make up for that old mistake.

MRS. BRIGGS (_becoming a little brisker_)

Why, how--how--why, we--why, I couldn’t think of such a thing!

INGOLDSBY (_solemnly_)

Fannie, I ask you to marry me.

(_She stares at him; the settee moves an inch nearer._)

Mrs. Briggs. What?

Ingoldsby. I ask you to marry me.

Mrs. Briggs. Why, good gracious! I wouldn’t have my children know that anybody had said such a thing to me for all the kingdoms on earth!

INGOLDSBY (_earnestly_)

They needn’t know it till afterwards.

MRS. BRIGGS (_breathlessly_)

Afterwards? After--after--

Ingoldsby. You’re not going to wreck us both _again_, are you, Fannie?

MRS. BRIGGS (_as in amazement_)

Why, if I’d dreamed you were going to say anything like _this_ to me when you asked me to meet you here this afternoon--

INGOLDSBY (_solemnly_)

Fannie, I want you to give me your answer, and to do it now. What do you say?

MRS. BRIGGS (_feebly, with her hand to her breast_)

Oh, my!

Ingoldsby. Yes; you must.

Mrs. Briggs. But I haven’t had time to _think_! Why, I wouldn’t have anybody know about this for--

Ingoldsby. I want my answer, Fannie--Fannie _dear_!

MRS. BRIGGS (_blankly_)

_Oh_, dear!

Ingoldsby. Fannie, _dearest_! (_He takes her hand._)

Mrs. Briggs. Oh, I wouldn’t have anybody know this--

Ingoldsby. Dearest, dearest Fannie!

Mrs. Briggs. Why, I wouldn’t have anybody know that we--

(_They are interrupted by a voice from a mysterious and invisible source. It is a male and adult voice, loudly and emphatically affecting to clear the throat of its origin in the manner of a person wishing to attract the attention of some other person._)

The Mysterious Voice. A-hem! A-a-a-_hem_!

MRS. BRIGGS (_leaping in her chair_)

Good heavens!

INGOLDSBY (_jumping up_)

What was that?

MRS. BRIGGS (_rising_)

Why, it was a man’s voice.

Ingoldsby. It was right here in the room with us.

MRS. BRIGGS (_sinking into her chair_)

Oh, murder!

INGOLDSBY (_staring about the room, notices the Philippine chair with its back turned to the front_)

There’s somebody sitting in that chair! (_He starts toward it angrily, but is checked by a suppressed scream from Mrs. Briggs._)

Mrs. Briggs. _Don’t!_ I’d _much_ rather never know who it is. (_Rising._) Let’s get away! (_She totters._)

INGOLDSBY (_undecided, but very angry_)

We ought to know who’s spying on us like this.

MRS. BRIGGS (_clutching at him_)

Oh!

THE MYSTERIOUS VOICE (_indignantly_)

I’m not spying! This is a public room in a public hotel--

MRS. BRIGGS (_moaning_)

Oh!

THE MYSTERIOUS VOICE (_continuing_)

Any guest of this hotel has a right to sit here in peace, and if you _will_ go on talking about your private affairs in a public room--

MRS. BRIGGS (_leaning on Ingoldsby’s arm_)

Oh, my!

THE MYSTERIOUS VOICE (_continuing heatedly_)

Why, it’s your own fault, not mine. I was only warning you not to go any further. I’ve heard enough of other people’s private affairs for one afternoon, anyhow.

MRS. BRIGGS (_almost hysterically_)

Oh, let’s go! (_She swings the reluctant and angry Ingoldsby toward the left entrance._) Let’s _go_!

INGOLDSBY (_turning to call back angrily_)

I don’t know who you are, sir; but when I’ve seen this lady to a--a place of safety--I _intend_ to know. I’ll be _back_ here, sir.

The Mysterious Voice. Fine!

Mrs. Briggs. Oh, mercy! (_She moves hastily away from Ingoldsby as Jessie suddenly comes in, from the left, confronting them._)

JESSIE (_halting sharply_)

What in the world’s the matter?

MRS. BRIGGS (_in a shaking voice_)

Nothing! Nothing at all, Jessie. Why should you think anything’s the matter?

Jessie. Why, you’re all upset!

MRS. BRIGGS (_trying hard to seem lightly amused, and failing_)

Not at all--not at all! I was just sitting here a moment with Mr. Ingoldsby, chatting over old times and--and then we decided to leave. We decided to leave--that’s all. I--I’m--(_Suddenly she starts, and with an incoherent exclamation looks behind her. Then she faces Jessie and, with a painful effort to smile, completes her sentence._) I’m all right.

Jessie. Yes, you seem so. Mr. Ingoldsby, will you kindly tell me what you’ve been saying to my mother to upset her so?

Mrs. Briggs. But I’m not--

INGOLDSBY (_checking her sharply_)

Miss Briggs, I should not be likely to say anything disrespectful to my old and dear friend, your mother. (_Looking around angrily._) The truth is, there’s an eavesdropping scoundrel concealed in this room, and I--

JESSIE (_alarmed_)

What! Oh, I’m _sure_ there isn’t.

Ingoldsby. There is! An eavesdropping--

THE MYSTERIOUS VOICE (_angrily_)

This is a public room, I told you. How can I help it if you--

Ingoldsby. I can’t stand this. He’s behind that chair.

(_He breaks away from Mrs. Briggs and Jessie, who both clutch at him._)

JESSIE (_crying out_)

Don’t! _Please_ don’t!

MRS. BRIGGS (_simultaneously_)

Henry! Don’t!

(_But Ingoldsby has already reached the Philippine chair that has its back turned toward the front of the stage; he seizes Rupert by the collar and drags him forth. Rupert is horrified._)

Ingoldsby. Come out of there, you scoundrel. Come out to the light of day.

RUPERT (_hastily_)

I didn’t do it. It wasn’t _me_.

Mrs. Briggs. Rupert Smith!

JESSIE (_dolefully_)

Oh, goodness!

INGOLDSBY (_hotly_)

What do you mean by terrorizing a lady?

Rupert. I didn’t! I didn’t say a _word_! I _was_ behind there, but I couldn’t help it. It wasn’t _my_ voice talking to you.

Ingoldsby. Then who was it?

The Mysterious Voice. If you’re anxious for more witnesses, I suggest that you look under the settee.

MRS. BRIGGS (_changing her mind as she is in the act of sinking down upon the settee_)

What!

Jessie. Look at it!

(_Mrs. Briggs screams faintly, as the settee moves rapidly to the left entrance, evidently meaning to leave the room._)

INGOLDSBY (_to Rupert_)

Stop that thing! Catch it!

(_They seize the settee just as it is disappearing into the corridor. They drag it back into the room._)

RUPERT (_trying to lift the settee_)

Come out from under there!

Ingoldsby. Come out, now!

THE SETTEE

I won’t! You lea’ me alone!

Ingoldsby. Both together now--heave!

(_They heave, and the settee yields, disclosing Lancelot with his previously smooth hair disheveled and his clothes well rumpled._)

MRS. BRIGGS (_astonished_)

Lancelot! Oh, gracious me!

INGOLDSBY (_to Lancelot_)

Shame on you!

Rupert. Yes, shame on you!

LANCELOT (_resentfully_)

Well, you _would_ get me; but I’ll make you sorry you did it, both of you! (_He rises, brushing himself and adjusting his attire._)

INGOLDSBY (_irritably_)

Don’t you know better than to frighten ladies and eavesdrop and--

LANCELOT (_warmly_)

I was abs’lootly honorable, because I couldn’t help it, and you none of you ever gave me a single chance to get away. _My_ conduct is the only one here that hasn’t got a stain on it or anything. (_He turns hotly upon Mrs. Briggs and Jessie._) I got nothing to reproach myself with, but I’d just like to know what either of you got to say for yourselves _now_ about the way you been talkin’ about Mrs. Curtis! If you either of you ever just _dare_ to soil your lips with even her _name_ again, why, I know more _things_--

Mrs. Briggs. Be quiet, Lancelot.

Lancelot. Quiet? _Me?_ (_He laughs shortly with an irony he could not express in words._) In the first place, don’t call me Lancelot any more. You know how I hate that name, and I been tryin’ to break you of it long enough--and now I will! I don’t care what you call me, but don’t call me _that_!

JESSIE (_pointing to the settee_)

How long were you under there?

LANCELOT (_sternly_)

Long enough to get mighty tired of hearin’ people callin’ each other “Darling”! Good gracious! You don’t think I _enjoyed_ it, do you? Why, what I heard while I was under there--well, I got a pretty strong constitution, but--

Mrs. Briggs. Hush! Oh, me!

Ingoldsby. The voice that spoke didn’t sound like Lancelot’s voice--

LANCELOT (_turning upon him ominously_)

Did you hear me say not to call me Lancelot? I mean you, too.

INGOLDSBY (_with hasty meekness_)

I’ll call you anything you like; but I want to know who it was that _spoke_. You say it wasn’t you--

LANCELOT (_very emphatically_)

No, it wasn’t. I wouldn’t ’a’ told you to look under the settee, would I?

INGOLDSBY (_with a gesture toward Rupert_)

And this gentleman says it wasn’t he.

Rupert. Why, it spoke again after I came out.

INGOLDSBY (_quite bewildered_)

So it did. Then who--

Lancelot. I don’t care who it was; what I want to point out, right here and now, before we go any further, why, I’m in a position to say that I got some plans for my future life and I don’t expect to have any intaference with ’em from my family, or from anybody that wants to _join_ my family either. All up to now, I’ve spent my life in a dependent position, so to speak, but after what’s happened here lately, and knowin’ all the _things_ I _do_ know--

(_His voice has risen during this oration, and Jessie, after a glance to the left entrance, attempts to moderate him._)

Jessie. Hush! There’s somebody--

Lancelot. I don’t care _who’s_ comin’, I’m goin’ to say my say. I expect to settle my own future in my own way, and any lady that I may decide to make _another_ member of this family--

Jessie. _Hush!_

(_The eyes of Lancelot follow hers to the left entrance and his stern manner is instantly softened._)

Lancelot. It’s her.

(_Mrs. Curtis comes in, but stops uncertainly near the entrance._)

Mrs. Curtis. Oh! I’m afraid I-- (_She turns to go._)

Lancelot. Wait. I was just talkin’ to ’em about you.

Mrs. Curtis. You were, Mr. Briggs?

LANCELOT (_to the others, reprovingly_)

_She_ never calls me Lancelot. Missuz--Missuz Curtis, I didn’t have to tell ’em; they’d already found out you were a widow. We don’t need to bother about that anyway.

Mrs. Curtis. _We_ don’t?

Lancelot. I’ve found out a good _many_ things since I saw you, and I’m goin’ to tell you the whole biznuss.

Mrs. Briggs. Shame!

JESSIE (_with a despairing laugh_)

What would it matter? There’s somebody _else_ here that knows “the whole biznuss”!

MRS. CURTIS (_struck by this_)

What did you say, Miss Briggs?

INGOLDSBY (_warmly_)

She made a sensible remark, madam. There is a person concealed in this room--

MRS. CURTIS (_impulsively_)

Oh, dear! How did you know?

ALL THE OTHERS

What?

Mrs. Curtis. Nothing.

Ingoldsby. All right! (_To Rupert._) I think I know now where he is, and I’m going to have him out.

MRS. CURTIS (_gasping, then imploringly_)

_Please_ stop!

INGOLDSBY (_halting_)

Why?

MRS. CURTIS (_weakly_)

It’s a friend of mine.

LANCELOT (_apprehensively_)

A friend of yours?

Mrs. Curtis. I--I’ll answer for him. He’ll never mention--ah--anything. He really wouldn’t be interested. He doesn’t know any of you.

The Mysterious Voice. No; and doesn’t care to!

INGOLDSBY (_angrily_)

Now, I _will_--

Mrs. Curtis. _Please_ don’t!

Ingoldsby. I mean to know who he is.

MRS. CURTIS (_pleading_)

Please! If you found him, you’d only see a total stranger to you. But he _wouldn’t_ be a stranger to quite a lot of people in this hotel that _I_ know.

INGOLDSBY (_now shaking his head_)

I’m afraid I don’t see it.

MRS. CURTIS (_in a faltering voice_)

He’s just here for one day and we--we didn’t want anyone to know it. I had so many engagements I could only take a short walk in the country with him this morning and--and promise to meet him here at five this afternoon.

LANCELOT (_who has been staring at her painfully_) But--but--see here!

Mrs. Curtis. Yes, I tried to get you to run away and dance with some nice young thing.

LANCELOT (_pathetically_)

So you could be here with--him?

Mrs. Curtis. I--I believe so.

LANCELOT (_dismally_)

Oh, my!

Ingoldsby. Madam, what you say doesn’t excuse this person’s eavesdropping.

THE MYSTERIOUS VOICE (_belligerently_)

Why doesn’t it? A lady’s got a right to keep her engagement a secret as long as she wants to, hasn’t she? There are people in this hotel that would know all about it if they saw her with me. (_With some bitterness._) That’s why she said to meet her here, because it’s so quiet!

Ingoldsby. That doesn’t excuse--

The Mysterious Voice. It’s more your fault than anybody else’s. I was awake all last night on a noisy train, and I was quietly _asleep_ here--till you woke me up.

Ingoldsby. Till _who_ woke you up?

The Mysterious Voice. Till _you_ did. I never knew a man that made so much noise about proposing a second marriage.

JESSIE (_amazed_)

Oh, Mamma!

MRS. BRIGGS (_with severe dignity_)

I’ll speak to you and Mr. Rupert Smith after dinner. Henry, I don’t see the propriety of continuing an argument with this interloper, whoever he may be. (_She takes Ingoldsby’s arm._)

Jessie. No. Let’s _do_ get away from here! (_She moves toward the left entrance with Rupert._)

INGOLDSBY (_looking back, as he follows with Mrs. Briggs; speaks reprovingly_)

I hope you have some shame for your conduct, sir.

The Mysterious Voice. Bless you, my children!

INGOLDSBY (_infuriated_)

Now, I’ll-- (_He turns to go back._)

MRS. BRIGGS (_restraining him_)

Henry!

(_They go on the left entrance. Jessie and Rupert have passed out into the corridor._)

Lancelot. Did he say “a lady’s got a right to keep her--her _engagement_--a secret”?

Mrs. Curtis. Yes.

Lancelot. To--to--to you?

Mrs. Curtis. Yes, dear.

LANCELOT (_piteously_)

Oh--oh, pshaw!

MRS. BRIGGS (_calling back_)

Lancelot!

LANCELOT (_meekly_)

Yes’m.

(_He goes dismally across to the left entrance and pauses. Ingoldsby and Mrs. Briggs have withdrawn, preceding him._)

MRS. CURTIS (_as he pauses_)

What is it, Mr. Briggs?

LANCELOT (_swallowing_)

Noth--nothin’. (He goes out.)

MRS. CURTIS (_turning, after a moment’s faintly smiling meditation_)

You poor thing!

THE MYSTERIOUS VOICE (_in an aggrieved tone_)

Well, I should say I am!

(_She goes to the Philippine chair, near the right rear corner, and, moving a smaller chair close to it, seats herself and addresses the invisible person, who is evidently sitting in the shelter of the big chair._)

Mrs. Curtis. After all, there’s nobody else here just _now_, darling.

The Mysterious Voice. No. We’re alone, darling.

Mrs. Curtis. You poor darling!

(_She glances about, then impulsively leans behind the huge back of the Philippine chair as the curtain descends._)

Dorothy’s Neighbors

A brand new comedy in four acts, by Marie Doran, author of “The New Co-Ed,” “Tempest and Sunshine,” and many other successful plays. 4 males, 7 females. The scenes are extremely easy to arrange; two plain interiors and one exterior, a garden, or, if necessary, the two interiors will answer. Costumes modern. Plays 2-1/2 hours.

The story is about vocational training, a subject now widely discussed; also, the distribution of large wealth.

Back of the comedy situation and snappy dialogue there is good logic and a sound moral in this pretty play, which is worthy the attention of the experienced amateur. It is a clean, wholesome play, particularly suited to high school production.

Price, 30 cents.

Miss Somebody Else

A modern play in four acts by Marion Short, author of “The Touchdown,” etc. 6 males, 10 females. Two interior scenes. Costumes modern. Plays 2-1/4 hours.

This delightful comedy has gripping dramatic movements, unusual character types, a striking and original plot and is essentially modern in theme and treatment. The story concerns the adventures of Constance Darcy, a multi-millionaire’s young daughter. Constance embarks on a trip to find a young man who had been in her father’s employ and had stolen a large sum of money. She almost succeeds, when suddenly all traces of the young man are lost. At this point she meets some old friends who are living in almost want and, in order to assist them through motives benevolent, she determines to sink her own aristocratic personality in that of a refined but humble little Irish waitress with the family that are in want. She not only carries her scheme to success in assisting the family, but finds romance and much tense and lively adventure during the period of her incognito, aside from capturing the young man who had defrauded her father. The story is full of bright comedy lines and dramatic situations and is highly recommended for amateur production. This is one of the best comedies we have ever offered with a large number of female characters. The dialogue is bright and the play is full of action from start to finish; not a dull moment in it. This is a great comedy for high schools and colleges, and the wholesome story will please the parents and teachers. We strongly recommend it.

Price, 30 cents.

Purple and Fine Linen

An exceptionally pretty comedy of Puritan New England, in three acts, by Amita B. Fairgrieve and Helena Miller. 9 male, 5 female characters.

This is the Lend A Hand Smith College prize play. It is an admirable play for amateurs, is rich in character portrayal of varied types and is not too difficult while thoroughly pleasing.

Price, 30 cents.

(The Above Are Subject to Royalty When Produced)

SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York City New and Explicit Descriptive Catalogue Mailed Free on Request

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:

Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.

Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.