Six Plays by Lady Florence Henrietta Fisher Darwin Part 26

JESSIE. You mustn't take no account of Mother when she speaks so sharp. 'Tis only her way.

ROBIN. Could you come and be our serving maid when Maggie's sent off?

CLARA. O I should be too slow and awkward at the work, I think.

JESSIE. Yes, you don't do them taters very nice.

ROBIN. That don't matter, I like you, and you can tell me fine things about other parts.

JESSIE. Georgie can tell of fine things too. See, there he comes with the vegetables from the garden.

[GEORGE comes in with a large basket of vegetables, which he sets down in the back kitchen. Then he stands at the door, silently watching the group near the table.

JESSIE. Come here, Georgie, and let Joan hear some of the tales out of what you do sing.

GEORGE. What would mistress say if she was to catch me at my songs this time of day?

JESSIE. Mother's gone upstairs, she won't know nothing.

ROBIN. Come you here, George, and look at my fine book what Aunt have brought me.

GEORGE. [Slowly approaching the table.] That be a brave, fine book of pictures, Master Robin.

ROBIN. [Holding up the open book.] I don't fancy Aunt Clara much, but I likes her better nor I did because of this book.

[GEORGE'S eyes wander from the book to CLARA as she bends over her work.

JESSIE. Joan doesn't know how to do them very nicely, does she George!

GEORGE. 'Tis the first time you've been set down to such work, may be, mistress.

JESSIE. You mustn't say "mistress" to Joan, you know. Why, Mother would be ever so angry if she was to hear you. Joan's only a servant.

CLARA. [Looking up.] Like you, George.

GEORGE. [Steadily.] What I was saying is--'Tis the first time as you have been set afore a bowl of taters like this.

CLARA. You are right, George. It is the first time since--since I was quite a little child. And I think I'm very clumsy at my work.

GEORGE. No one could work with them laces a-falling down all over their fingers.

JESSIE. You should turn back your sleeves for kitchen work, Joan, same as Maggie does.

GEORGE. Yes, you should turn back your sleeves, Miss Joan.

[JOAN puts aside the knife and basket, turns back her sleeves, and then resumes her work. GEORGE'S eyes are rivetted on her hands and arms for a moment. Then he turns as though to go away.

JESSIE. Don't go away, Georgie. Come and tell us how you like Aunt Clara now that she's growed into such a grand lady.

GEORGE. [Coming back to the table.] I don't like nothing about her, Miss Jessie.

JESSIE. Is Aunt very much changed from when she did use to ride the big horses to the trough, Georgie?

ROBIN. And from the time when th' old gander did take a big piece right out of her arm, Georgie?

GEORGE. [His eyes on CLARA'S bent head.] I count her be wonderful changed, like.

JESSIE. So that you would scarce know her?

GEORGE. So that I should scarce know she.

JESSIE. She have brought Mother a silken gown and me a string of coral beads. But naught for you, Georgie.

GEORGE. I reckon as Miss Clara have not kept me in her remembrance like.

CLARA. [With sudden earnestness.] O that she has, George.

JESSIE. She didn't seem to know him by her looks.

CLARA. Looks often speak but poorly for the heart.

ROBIN. [Who has been watching CLARA.] See there, Joan. You've been and cut that big tater right in half. Mother will be cross.

CLARA. O dear, I am thoughtless. One cannot work and talk at the same time.

GEORGE. [Taking basket and knife from her and seating himself on the edge of the table.] Here,--give them all to me. I understand such work, and 'tis clear that you do not. I'll finish them off in a few minutes, and mistress will never be the wiser.

CLARA. O thank you, George, but am I to go idle?

GEORGE. You can take up with that there white sewing if you have a mind. 'Tis more suited to your hands nor this rough job.

[CLARA puts down her sleeves and takes up her needlework.

JESSIE. Sing us a song, George, whilst you do the taters.

GEORGE. No, Miss Jessie. My mood is not a singing mood this day.

JESSIE. You ask him, Joan.

CLARA. Will not you sing one little verse, George?

GEORGE. Nay--strangers from London town would have no liking for the songs we sing down here among the fields.

CLARA. There was a song I once heard in the country that pleased me very well.

JESSIE. What was it called?

CLARA. I cannot remember the name--but there was something of bushes and of briars in it.