Part 13 (1/2)

MISS SUSAN. Please not to do that.

CHARLOTTE (_implying that_ MISS SUSAN _will be responsible for her early death_). My chest is weak. I shall sit among the dew.

MISS SUSAN. Charlotte, you terrify me. At least, please to put this cloak about your shoulders. Nay, my dear, allow me.

(_She puts a cloak around_ CHARLOTTE, _who departs vindictively for the shrubbery. She will not find_ LIVVY _there, however, for next moment_ MISS PHOEBE _darts in from the back._)

PHOEBE (_in a gay whisper_). Susan, another offer [Transcriber's note: officer?] --Major Linkwater--rotund man, black whiskers, fierce expression; he has rushed away to destroy himself.

(_We have been unable to find any record of the Major's tragic end._)

AN OLD SOLDIER (_looking up from a card table, whence he has heard the raging of_ BLADES). Miss Livvy, ma'am, what is this about the moon?

(PHOEBE _smiles roguishly._)

PHOEBE (_looking about her_). I want my cloak, Aunt Susan.

MISS SUSAN. I have just lent it to poor Charlotte Parratt.

PHOEBE. Oh, auntie!

OLD SOLDIER. And now Miss Livvy cannot go into the shrubbery to see the moon; and she is so fond of the moon!

(MISS PHOEBE _screws her nose at him merrily, and darts back to the dance, but she has left a defender behind her._)

A GALLANT (_whose name we have not succeeded in discovering_). Am I to understand, sir, that you are intimating disparagement of the moon? If a certain female has been graciously pleased to signify approval of that orb, any slight cast upon the moon, sir, I shall regard as a personal affront.

OLD SOLDIER. Hoity-toity.

(_But he rises, and they face each other, as_ MISS SUSAN _feels, for battle. She is about to rush between their undrawn swords when there is a commotion outside; a crowd gathers and opens to allow some officers to a.s.sist a fainting woman into the tent. It is_ MISS PHOEBE, _and_ MISS SUSAN _with a cry goes on her knees beside her. The tent has filled with the sympathetic and inquisitive, but_ CAPTAIN BROWN, _as a physician, takes command, and by his order they retire. He finds difficulty in bringing the sufferer to, and gets little help from_ MISS SUSAN, _who can only call upon_ MISS PHOEBE _by name._)

VALENTINE. Nay, Miss Susan, 'tis useless calling for Miss Phoebe.

'Tis my fault; I should not have permitted Miss Livvy to dance so immoderately. Why do they delay with the cordial?

(_He goes to the back to close the opening, and while he is doing so the incomprehensible_ MISS PHOEBE _seizes the opportunity to sit up on her couch of chairs, waggle her finger at_ MISS SUSAN, _and sign darkly that she is about to make a genteel recovery._)

PHOEBE. Where am I? Is that you, Aunt Susan? What has happened?

VALENTINE (_returning_). Nay, you must recline, Miss Livvy. You fainted. You have over-fatigued yourself.

PHOEBE. I remember.

(BLADES _enters with the cordial._)

VALENTINE. You will sip this cordial.

BLADES. By your leave, sir.

(_He hands it to_ PHOEBE _himself._)