Part 13 (1/2)

(TARVER _and_ PHYLLIS _re-enter, go to fender and sit_. TARVER _has had his clothes brushed_.)

GRICE. I never saw a paper with anything in it. (_Pause_.) How about the bye-elections?

FARADAY. (_Grunting, absorbed in his paper_) Huh! (_Long pause_.)

EVELYN. (_Reading front page_) Oh, Madge, Elsie Hardiman is engaged.

MADGE. Not really?

AUNT IDA. (_From up stage, comes slightly_ R.C. _Uneasily and anxiously watching_ EVELYN) Isn't there--isn't there any other news, Evelyn?

EVELYN. No, dear.

AUNT IDA. Anybody married?

EVELYN. No one we know.

AUNT IDA. (_With a forced attempt at cheerfulness_) Or dead?

EVELYN. (_Absently. Looking over paper_) No, dear. Ab--so--lutely noth---- (_Her eye suddenly lights on_ SMITH'S _death notice. She reads it in pantomime. A look of horror comes over her face and she utters a shrill scream_.)

(_All rise hastily with exclamations_.)

FARADAY. (_Jumping to his feet_) G.o.d bless my soul! What's the matter, what's the matter?

TARVER. Great Scott! What's the matter?

MADGE. What _is_ the matter, Evelyn?

GRICE. (_Coming center_) Really, Lady Trenchard, you ought not to startle people like that. It's selfish. (_Goes to her, takes paper from her limp hand and comes down stage_.) What's the news, eh?

FARADAY. (_Taking paper from_ GRICE _with importance, and crossing_ L.) _I'll_ tell you.

EVELYN. (_In hushed whisper_) Father, the deaths, the deaths!

(_During the following scene_, GRICE _is fairly dancing with impatience_.)

FARADAY. (_Reads death notice and sits heavily extreme_ L. _with a sigh_) Poor girl!

MADGE. (_From above table_) Father.

(FARADAY _hands paper to_ MADGE, _saying, ”Read, read.”_)

PHYLLIS. (_After a slight pause runs across stage to_ MADGE) What is it, Madge?

MADGE. Oh, Phyllis.