Part 20 (1/2)

VALENTINE. I also must work. I will become a physician again, with some drab old housekeeper to neglect me and the house. Do you foresee the cobwebs gathering and gathering, Miss Phoebe?

PHOEBE. Oh, sir!

VALENTINE. You shall yet see me in Quality Street, wearing my stock all awry.

PHOEBE. Oh, oh!

VALENTINE. And with snuff upon my sleeve.

PHOEBE. Sir, sir!

VALENTINE. No skulker, ma'am, I hope, but gradually turning into a grumpy, crusty, bottle-nosed old bachelor.

PHOEBE. Oh, Mr. Brown!

VALENTINE. And all because you will not walk across the street with me.

PHOEBE. Indeed, sir, you must marry--and I hope it may be some one who is really like a garden.

VALENTINE. I know but one. That reminds me, Miss Phoebe, of something I had forgot. (_He produces a paper from his pocket._) 'Tis a trifle I have wrote about you. But I fear to trouble you.

(PHOEBE'S _hands go out longingly for it._)

PHOEBE (_reading_). 'Lines to a Certain Lady, who is Modestly unaware of her Resemblance to a Garden. Wrote by her servant, V. B.'

(_The beauty of this makes her falter. She looks up._)

VALENTINE (_with a poet's pride_). There is more of it, ma'am.

PHOEBE (_reading_)

The lilies are her pretty thoughts, Her shoulders are the may, Her smiles are all forget-me-nots, The path 's her gracious way,

The roses that do line it are Her fancies walking round, 'Tis sweetly smelling lavender In which my lady's gowned.

(MISS PHOEBE _has thought herself strong, but she is not able to read such exquisite lines without betraying herself to a lover's gaze._)

VALENTINE (_excitedly_). Miss Phoebe, when did you cease to care for me?

PHOEBE (_retreating from him but clinging to her poem_). You promised not to ask.

VALENTINE. I know not why you should, Miss Phoebe, but I believe you love me still!

(MISS PHOEBE _has the terrified appearance of a detected felon._)

(_MISS SUSAN returns._)

MISS SUSAN. You are talking so loudly.

VALENTINE. Miss Susan, does she care for me still?