Part 21 (1/2)

I'm rather anxious for the post to bring to-day's ”Times.” You know I've offered a thousand pounds to our Restoration Fund.

GEORGIANA.

What!

THE DEAN.

Hush--I'll tell you.

[_They talk in undertones. BLORE enters to remove the tea-tray._

TARVER.

[_Jumping up excitedly--to SALOME._] Eh? Oh, certainly--delighted!

[_Singing to himself._] ”Come into the garden, Maud, for the black bat----”

SALOME.

Now you're yourself again.

TARVER.

I'm always dreadfully excited when I'm asked to sing. It's as good as a carbonate of soda lozenge to me to be asked to sing. [_To BLORE._]

My music is in my overcoat pocket.

[_BLORE crosses to the door._

SHEBA.

And Mr. Darbey has brought his violin.

TARVER.

[_In a rage, glaring at DARBEY._] Hah! There now!

DARBEY.

[_To BLORE._] You'll find it in the hall.

[_BLORE goes out. THE DEAN dozes in a chair. SALOME and SHEBA talk to GEORGIANA at the table._

TARVER.

[_To himself._] He always presumes with his confounded fiddle when I'm going to entertain. He knows that his fiddle's never hoa.r.s.e and that I am, sometimes.

DARBEY.

[_To himself._] Tarver always tries to cut me out with his elderly Chest C. He ought to put it on the Retired List.

TARVER.