Green Stockings Part 1

Green Stockings.

by A. E. W. (Alfred Edward Woodley) Mason.

ACT I

SCENE: _A room in_ MR. FARADAY'S _country house; at the upper left corner a little room is recessed, in which is a folding card table and four chairs. Windows at back. On table are two decks of cards, an ashtray and two bridge-markers and pencils. Hanging over table, a shaded electrolier. There is no door, but people sitting at the card tables are practically off the stage, though they can be seen and heard. At right corner balancing left corner exactly is seen a portion of the morning room (backing used is part of Act III set). Directly against back is a small table, between two chairs, both of which are facing it. On table, a lighted lamp and an English periodical, also an ashtray and a vase of spring flowers. Note: All flowers used in this set are spring flowers. Between card room and morning room on back flat, a tapestry is hung, against flat a baby grand piano, keyboard facing right up and down stage; on piano are a scarf, photograph frames, vase of flowers and a lamp. In the center of the left wall of the room, proper is hung a large picture; beneath this stands a large cabinet on which is formal garniture. Below this is a door (_L.I_) which leads into the hall; above door and to left center, a table on which is a sliding book rack holding several books and an English army list. Also a shaded lamp, a purse for_ LADY TRENCHARD _to left of table, and a sewing-bag for_ AUNT IDA _to right of table_.

_In_ R.I _is a door balancing that in_ L.I. _It leads to hall. Above door_ R. _is a large mantel. Above this is hung a large picture, balancing that on left wall. On the mantel, a formal garniture of vases; against mantel, a club fender with upholstered top, fireirons inside fender, grate with lighted coal fire; below fender, facing sofa, an armchair. Opposite and facing the fender and about three feet from it is a large comfortable sofa, with a number of cushions; against the back of this, a long magazine table. On this are, beginning at upper end, an English timetable, a large shaded lamp, large cigarette box containing cigarettes, ashtray, match-holder, vase of tulips, photo frame, and at extreme lower end of table seven or eight English periodicals. On these, a large blue linen envelope, unsealed, flap being turned in. This contains a few spring fashion plates. With this are four ordinary letters, containing circulars (all of these letters are important). Below table, a square tapestry stool, left of table an armchair, under table a waste-paper basket. Between piano and entrance to morning room is a small light writing table. On this, a small lamp or a pair of shaded candles, a blotting pad with paper, envelopes, ink and pens. Above this a chair. Off_ L. _a door bell and set of chimes. Electric light switch on_ R. _wall to_ R. _of morning room opening. Bell push on_ L. _of back flat. The entire room should convey the impression of quiet, dignified, tasteful elegance.

Complete darkness at windows, suggesting a rainy night. On rise of curtain, all lamps are lighted and fire aglow_.

_Before the curtain rises_, PHYLLIS _plays for a moment or two_.

AT RISE: _Discovered_: PHYLLIS _at piano, playing_. LADY TRENCHARD _seated at upper end of sofa, smoking a cigarette and reading a periodical_. MADGE _writing a letter at writing table up stage_. AUNT IDA _seated in armchair at_ R. _of table_ L,. _knitting. The girls and_ AUNT IDA _are in evening dress_. PHYLLIS _continues to play softly under conversation, something cheerful but not too fast. The opening scene should be played brightly and quickly_.

MADGE. (_Rises. Brightly_) Oh, Evelyn----

EVELYN. Yes, Madge.

MADGE. (_Coming down to chair_ L. _of table_ R. _with letter in hand_) I _do_ want this letter to my husband to catch the Indian mail. Do _you_ know anything about the postal service in this benighted village?

EVELYN. (_Continuing to read and speaking over her magazine_) No, Madgie, I don't. _Celia_ always attends to those things. _She's_ away.

Ring for _Martin_.

(MADGE _goes to bell in upper flat_ L., _rings it, and then comes_ L.C.)

AUNT IDA. (_Without looking up from her knitting_) Has anyone gone to the wharf to _meet_ Celia?

EVELYN. (_Indifferently_) Why, no. She's coming home to-night, isn't she?

AUNT IDA. (_Vehemently_) You _got_ her _telegram_.

MADGE. (_Unconcerned_) What time is her boat due?

AUNT IDA. At _eight_, and now it's nearly _nine_.

(_Enter_ MARTIN R.IE. _and stands_.)

AUNT IDA. (_Continuing_) She'll have been waiting for an hour on that dreadful wharf.

EVELYN. (_Still reading and speaking over her book_) Oh, Martin, the motor must go at once to the wharf to fetch Miss Celia.

MARTIN. Yes, your Ladyship, but hadn't I better send down some extra wraps; it's a very wet night.

EVELYN. (_Looking up for a moment_) Wet? Dear me, is it raining?

AUNT IDA. Cats and dogs.

EVELYN. (_Returning to her reading_) Oh, very well, then, Martin, attend to it at once.

MARTIN. (_Turns to go to door_ R.) Yes, your Ladyship.

MADGE. (_From_ L.C.) Attend to _me_ first, Martin, if you please.

MARTIN. (_Turns back_) Yes, madam.

MADGE. How late can I post in order to catch the Indian mail?

MARTIN. Up till ten o'clock, madam.

MADGE. (_Going back to desk_) Oh, then I have time to write a longer letter. (MARTIN _exits_ R.I.)

AUNT IDA. (_Looking around at girls, who are all occupied and quite oblivious of_ CELIA'S _discomfort. With a deep sigh and shaking her head_) Poor Celia.

PHYLLIS. (_Gives a slight bang on the piano, rises and comes quickly down center. Indignantly_) Poor Celia. Well, she's coming back home just at a moment that's going to complicate--_the--whole--situation_.

EVELYN. Why, what do you mean?

PHYLLIS. (_Addressing_ EVELYN) Well, you know how father feels about letting me _get_ married--while Celia is settling down day after day into a permanent old maid. If she'd stay away a little longer, he might forget for a while, but here she's turning up just _this very night_, just as Bobby has gained courage enough to take the bull by the horns and beard the lion sulking in his tent.

(_Enter_ TARVER _in evening dress, dejectedly_, R.U., _coming down center_.)

AUNT IDA. What an extraordinary proceeding.

PHYLLIS. (_Running up to_ BOBBY _and taking him by the arm_) Oh!

Bobby, Bobby! What news?

TARVER. Well, I'm afraid it's hopeless, though I spoke with singular force. (_Sits in chair left of table_ R.)

PHYLLIS. (_Stands_ L. _of chair_, L. _of table_ R.) Oh, Bobby, how splendid of you! How did you put it?

TARVER. In the form of a question. I said to your father, "Are you aware, sir, that I love your daughter and wish to make her mine?"

EVELYN. What did _Father_ say?

TARVER. Oh, he said, "Has it escaped your observation, sir, that I still have _two_ marriageable daughters?"

PHYLLIS. (_Protestingly_) But he hasn't, he hasn't.

AUNT IDA. Eh?