Part 6 (1/2)

THE VOICE: Auntie!

MRS. BREWSTER: Yes, Priscilla dear.

THE VOICE: Where in h.e.l.l did you put the vermouth?

MRS. BREWSTER: In the cupboard, dear. I do hope you aren't going to get--er--”boiled” again tonight, Priscilla. (Enter PRISCILLA, infinitely radiant, infinitely beautiful, with a bottle of vermouth in one hand and a jug of gin in the other.) PRISCILLA: Auntie, that was a dirty trick to hide the vermouth. h.e.l.lo Miles--shoot many Indians today?

MILES: Why--er er--no, Mistress Priscilla.

PRISCILLA: Wish you'd take me with you next time, Miles. I'd love to shoot an Indian, wouldn't you, auntie?

MRS. BREWSTER: Priscilla! What an idea! And please dear, give Auntie Brewster the gin. I--er--promised to take some to the church social tonight and it's almost all gone now.

MILES: I didn't see you at church last night, Mistress Priscilla.

PRISCILLA: Well I'll tell you, Miles. I started to go to church--really felt awfully religious. But just as I was leaving I thought, ”Priscilla, how about a drink--just one little drink?” You know, Miles, church goes so much better when you're just a little boiled--the lights and everything just kind of--oh, its glorious. Well last night, after I'd had a little liquor, the funniest thing happened. I felt awfully good, not like church at all--so I just thought I'd take a walk in the woods.

And I came to a pool--a wonderful honest-to-G.o.d pool--with the moon s.h.i.+ning right into the middle of it. So I just undressed and dove in and it was the most marvelous thing in the world. And then I danced on the bank in the gra.s.s and the moonlight--oh, Lordy, Miles, you ought to have seen me.

MRS. BREWSTER: Priscilla!

PRISCILLA: 'Scuse me, Auntie Brewster. And then I just lay in the gra.s.s and sang and laughed.

MRS. BREWSTER: Dear, you'll catch your death of cold one of these nights. I hope you'll excuse me, Captain Standish; it's time I was going to our social. I'll leave Priscilla to entertain you. Now be a good girl, Priscilla, and please dear don't drink straight vermouth--remember what happened last time. Good night, Captain--good night, dear.

(Exit MRS. BREWSTER with gin.)

PRISCILLA: Oh d.a.m.n! What'll we do, Miles--I'm getting awfully sleepy.

MILES: Why--we might--er--pet a bit.

PRISCILLA (yawning): No. I'm too tired--besides, I hate whiskers.

MILES: Yes, that's so, I remember. (Ten minutes' silence, with MILES looking sentimentally into the fireplace, PRISCILLA curled up in a chair on the other side.)

MILES: I was--your aunt and I--we were talking about you before you came in. It was a talk that meant a lot to me.

PRISCILLA: Miles, would you mind closing that window?

(MILES closes the window and returns to his chair by the fireplace.)

MILES: And your aunt told me that your mother said you would some day marry a military man.

PRISCILLA: Miles, would you mind pa.s.sing me that pillow over there?

(MILES gets up, takes the pillow to PRISCILLA and again sits down.)

MILES: And I thought that if you wanted a military man why--well, I've always thought a great deal of you, Mistress Priscilla--and since my Rose died I've been pretty lonely, and while I'm nothing but a rough old soldier yet--well, what I'm driving at is--you see, maybe you and I could sort of--well, I'm not much of a hand at fancy love speeches and all that--but--

(He is interrupted by a snore. He glances up and sees that PRISCILLA has fallen fast asleep. He sits looking hopelessly into the fireplace for a long time, then gets up, puts on his hat and tiptoes out of the door.)