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What is happening to me! It will be in all the sporting papers. "Sir Tristram Mardon's Dandy d.i.c.k reflected great credit upon the Deanery Stables!" "The Sporting Dean!"
[_He walks into the Library, where he sinks into a chair, as SALOME, TARVER, DARBEY and SHEBA come from the window._
TARVER.
They're getting the flames under. If I had had my goloshes with me I should have been here, there, and everywhere.
DARBEY.
Where there's a crowd of Civilians the Military exercise a wise discretion in restraining themselves.
SHEBA.
[_To TARVER and DARBEY._] You had better go now; then we'll get the house quiet as soon as possible. Poor Papa looks worried.
SHEBA _and_ SALOME.
Poor Papa!
TARVER.
We will wait with the carriage in the lane.
SALOME.
Yes, yes. [_Calling._] Papa, Major Tarver and Mr. Darbey must go.
[_She rings the bell. THE DEAN comes from the Library._
THE DEAN.
Dear me, I'm very remiss!
TARVER.
[_Shaking hands._] Most fascinating evening!
DARBEY.
[_Shaking hands._] Charming, my dear Dean.
_BLORE enters._
SALOME.
Major Tarver's carriage.
BLORE.
Hat the gate, Miss Salome.
SALOME.
Don't risk the cold, Papa.
[_BLORE goes out, followed by SHEBA, SALOME, and TARVER. DARBEY is going, when he returns to THE DEAN._
DARBEY.
By-the-bye, my dear Dean--come over and see me. We ought to know more of each other. Say Monday.
THE DEAN.
[_Restraining his anger._] I will _not_ say Monday!
DARBEY.
Any time you like. Oh--and I say--let me know when you preach, and I'll get some of our fellows to give their patronage!
[_He goes out._
THE DEAN.
[_Closing the door after him with a bang._] Another moment--another moment--and I fear I should have been violently rude to him, a guest under my roof! [_He walks up to the fireplace and stands looking into the fire, as DARBEY. having forgotten his violin, returns to the room._] Oh, Blore, now understand me, if that Mr. Darbey ever again presumes to present himself at the Deanery I will not see him!
DARBEY.
[_With his violin in his hand, haughtily._] I've come back for my violin.
[_Goes out with dignity._
THE DEAN.
[_Horrified._] Oh, Mr. Darbey! Hear an explanation, Mr. Darbey!
[_He runs out after DARBEY. GEORGIANA and SIR TRISTRAM enter by the window._
GEORGIANA.
Don't be down, Tris, my boy; cheer up, lad, he'll be fit yet, bar a chill! Aha! he knew me, he knew me when I kissed his dear old nose!
SIR TRISTRAM.
He'd be a fool of a horse if he hadn't felt deuced flattered at that.
GEORGIANA.
He's no fool. He knows he's in the Deanery too. Did you see him cast up his eyes and lay his ears back when I led him in?
