Quality Street Part 8

(MISS SUSAN _also is overcome, but recovers as the children crowd in._)

MISS SUSAN. Hats off, gentlemen salute, ladies curtsy--to the brave Captain Brown.

(CAPTAIN BROWN _salutes them awkwardly, and they cheer him, to his great discomfort, as they pa.s.s out._)

VALENTINE (_when they have gone_). A terrible ordeal, ma'am.

(_The old friends look at each other, and there is a silence_.

VALENTINE _feels that all the fine tales and merry jests he has brought back for the ladies have turned into dead things. He wants to go away and think._)

PHOEBE. I wish you very happy at the ball.

VALENTINE (_sighing_). Miss Susan, cannot we turn all these maps and horrors out till the vacation is over?

MISS SUSAN. Indeed, sir, we always do. By to-morrow this will be my dear blue and white room again, and that my sweet spare bedroom.

PHOEBE. For five weeks!

VALENTINE (_making vain belief_). And then--the--the dashing Mr. Brown will drop in as of old, and, behold, Miss Susan on her knees once more putting tucks into my little friend the ottoman, and Miss Phoebe---Miss Phoebe----

PHOEBE. Phoebe of the ringlets!

(_She goes out quietly._)

VALENTINE (_miserably_). Miss Susan, what a shame it is.

MISS SUSAN (_hotly_). Yes, it is a shame.

VALENTINE (_suddenly become more of a man_). The brave Captain Brown!

Good G.o.d, ma'am, how much more brave are the ladies who keep a school.

(PATTY _shows in two visitors,_ MISS CHARLOTTE PARRATT _and_ ENSIGN BLADES. CHARLOTTE _is a pretty minx who we are glad to say does not reside in Quality Street, and_ BLADES _is a callow youth, inviting admiration._)

CHARLOTTE (_as they salute_). But I did not know you had company, Miss Susan.

MISS SUSAN. 'Tis Captain Brown--Miss Charlotte Parratt.

CHARLOTTE (_gushing_). The heroic Brown?

VALENTINE. Alas, no, ma'am, the other one.

CHARLOTTE. Miss Susan, do you see who accompanies me?

MISS SUSAN. I cannot quite recall----

BLADES. A few years ago, ma'am, there sat in this room a scrubby, inky little boy--I was that boy.

MISS SUSAN. Can it be our old pupil--Ensign Blades?

(_She thinks him very fine, and he bows, well pleased._)

BLADES. Once a little boy and now your most obedient, ma'am.

MISS SUSAN. You have come to recall old memories?

BLADES. Not precisely; I--Charlotte, explain.

CHARLOTTE. Ensign Blades wishes me to say that it must seem highly romantic to you to have had a pupil who has fought at Waterloo.

MISS SUSAN. Not exactly romantic. I trust, sir, that when you speak of having been our pupil you are also so obliging as to mention that it was during our first year. Otherwise it makes us seem so elderly.

(_He bows again, in what he believes to be a quizzical manner._)

CHARLOTTE. Ensign Blades would be pleased to hear, Miss Susan, what you think of him as a whole.

MISS SUSAN. Indeed, sir, I think you are monstrous fine.

(_Innocently._) It quite awes me to remember that we used to whip him.

VALENTINE (_delighted_). Whipped him, Miss Susan! (_In solemn burlesque of_ CHARLOTTE.) Ensign Blades wishes to indicate that it was more than Buonaparte could do. We shall meet again, bright boy.

(_He makes his adieux and goes._)

BLADES. Do you think he was quizzing me?

MISS SUSAN (_simply_). I cannot think so.

BLADES. He said 'bright boy,' ma'am.

MISS SUSAN. I am sure, sir, he did not mean it.

(PHOEBE _returns._)

PHOEBE. Charlotte, I am happy to see you. You look delicious, my dear--so young and fresh.

CHARLOTTE. La! Do you think so, Miss Phoebe?

BLADES. Miss Phoebe, your obedient.

PHOEBE. It is Ensign Blades! But how kind of you, sir, to revisit the old school. Please to sit down.

CHARLOTTE. Ensign Blades has a favour to ask of you, Miss Phoebe.

BLADES. I learn, ma'am, that Captain Brown has obtained a card for you for the ball, and I am here to solicit for the honour of standing up with you.

(_For the moment_ PHOEBE _is flattered. Here, she believes, is some one who does not think her too old for the dance. Then she perceives a meaning smile pa.s.s between_ CHARLOTTE _and the_ ENSIGN.)

PHOEBE (_paling_). Is it that you desire to make sport of me?