Part 6 (1/2)

BELINDA (_happily_). O-oh! You've got such different ways of putting things. How can I choose between you?

DEVENISH. Then you will marry one of us?

BELINDA. You know I really _oughtn't_ to.

BAXTER. I don't see why not.

BELINDA. Well, there's just a little difficulty in the way.

DEVENISH. What is it? I will remove it. For you I could remove anything --yes, even Baxter. (_He looks at_ BAXTER, _who is sitting more solidly than ever in his chair_.)

BELINDA. And anyhow I should have to choose between you.

DEVENISH (_in a whisper_), choose me.

BAXTER (_stiffly_). Mrs. Tremayne does not require any prompting. A fair field and let the best man win.

DEVENISH (_going across to and slapping the astonished_ BAXTER _on the back_). Aye, let the best man win! Well spoken, Baxter.

(BAXTER _is very annoyed. To_ BELINDA _and going back to her_ L.) Send us out into the world upon some knightly quest, lady, and let the victor be rewarded.

BAXTER. I--er--ought to say that I should be unable to go very far. I have an engagement to speak at Newcastle on the 2lst.

DEVENISH. Baxter, I will take no unfair advantage of you. Let the beard of the Lord Mayor of Newcastle be the talisman that my lady demands; I am satisfied.

BAXTER. This sort of thing is entirely contrary to my usual mode of life, but I will not be outfaced by a mere boy. (_Rising_.) I am prepared. (_Going to her_.)

DEVENISH. Speak, lady.

BELINDA (_speaking in a deep, mysterious voice_). Gentlemen, ye put wild thoughts into my head. In sooth, I _am_ minded to send ye forth upon a quest that is pa.s.sing strange. Know ye that there is a maid journeyed hither, hight Robinson--whose--(_in her natural voice_) what's the old for aunt?

BAXTER (_hopefully_). Mother's sister.

BELINDA. You know, I think I shall have to explain this in ordinary language. You won't mind very much, will you, Mr. Devenish?

DEVENISH. It is the spirit of this which matters, not the language which clothes it.

BELINDA. Oh, I'm so glad you think so. Well, now about Miss Robinson.

She's my niece and she's just come to stay with me, and--poor girl-- she's lost her father. Absolutely lost him. He disappeared ever such a long time ago, and poor Miss Robinson--Delia--naturally wants to find him. Poor girl! she _can't_ think where he is.

DEVENISH (_n.o.bly_). I will find him.

BELINDA. Oh, thank you, Mr. Devenish; Miss Robinson would be so much obliged.

BAXTER. Yes--er--but what have we to go upon? Beyond the fact that his name is Robinson--

BELINDA. I shouldn't go on _that_ too much. You see, he may easily have changed it by now. He was never very much of a Robinson. Nothing to do with Peter or any of those.

DEVENISH. I will find him.

BAXTER (_with a look of annoyance at_ DEVENISH). Well, can you tell us what he's like?