Part 16 (2/2)

CELIA. Vavasour? Vavasour? It's some election business, of course.

Phyllis, it's your affair, after all. Attend to it for me, won't you?

PHYLLIS. Very well. (CELIA _exits_ R. MARTIN _brings the card over to_ PHYLLIS. PHYLLIS _takes card, reads it and utters a cry_) Colonel Smith! Then, then--then? (_Bewildered_) Then he is not dead. It's a mistake. (_Runs to door_ R. _as if to recall_ CELIA.)

MARTIN. It is Colonel Vavasour who has called, Miss. (_Goes up to tea-table, gets tray and dishes_.)

PHYLLIS. But it's Colonel Smith's card. (_Turns card over suddenly_) Oh, it is a message. (_Goes to_ L. _of table_ R., _sits and turns up the lamp_.) Written in a failing hand. (_Reads_) ”_Good-bye_. Be kind to my friend, James Nugent Vavasour.” (_To_ MARTIN, _who has by now collected the dishes on tray and is below table_ R.) Show Colonel Vavasour in and then ask Miss Faraday to come down as quickly as she can. Just say that it really is important.

MARTIN. Yes, Miss.

(PHYLLIS _comes_ L.C. _quickly and arranges her hair, etc_. MARTIN _re-enters, announcing_ COLONEL VAVASOUR. COLONEL SMITH _enters and stands_. MARTIN _closes door quietly, goes up_ L., _crosses it back, turns on lamp on piano and exits through morning room_.)

SMITH. (_Bowing_) I am speaking to Miss Celia Faraday?

PHYLLIS. (_Holding card in her hand_) Oh, no. I'm her much younger sister, but I have sent for her. Won't you sit down, Colonel Vavasour?

(_Sits_ R. _of_ L. _table_. SMITH _sits_ L.) The card which you sent me proves that your errand is a sad one. I want to ask you to be very gentle in delivering your message to Celia. The news of Colonel Smith's death was first conveyed to her in to-day's ”Times.”

SMITH. I am not very surprised to hear that.

PHYLLIS. (_Melodramatically_) The bolt fell from a clear sky. She received no telegram, no letter to warn her of the impending destruction of her happiness. (_Places card on table_.)

SMITH. (_Meaningly_) No, indeed. How could she?

PHYLLIS. She was happy. She loved and was loved. (SMITH _turns and looks at her_.) And then in a second comes Fate with its cruel shears----

SMITH. (_Interrupting her_) Excuse me, but do you write for the Sunday papers?

PHYLLIS. No, but I have been listening lately to a great number of election speeches.

SMITH. I quite understand. From them those flowers of eloquence were culled. Please go on.

PHYLLIS. Celia bore the blow with remarkable courage. But now comes your _visit_, which will upset her even more than the news of Colonel Smith's death itself.

SMITH. Yes, Miss Faraday, I am quite sure that it will do that. You have made an appeal to me to deliver my harrowing message as delicately as I can. You can help me not to make mistakes.

PHYLLIS. How?

SMITH. By telling me where the lovers met, when they became engaged--and how it all happened.

PHYLLIS. But you came with Colonel Smith's card and words of recommendation written upon it by his failing hand. Didn't he tell you?

SMITH. Well, you see, he was one of those great-hearted men who never speak about themselves. And towards the end, when he might have spoken, he was singularly comatose.

PHYLLIS. (_Sympathetically_) Poor fellow!

<script>