The Sweet Girl Graduates Part 1

The Sweet Girl Graduates.

by Rea Woodman.

ACT I.

(Sitting-room of the DeSmythe home; "confusion worse confounded;"

everything topsy-turvy. Mrs. DeSmythe on couch; Madam Sateene and she looking over lace samples, of which they have a great number. Madam in "swell" street costume.)

_Mrs. De S._ (tossing samples in a heap). There's positively nothing like it! Nothing anywhere near it!

_Madam_ No, and nothing that can be used.

_Mrs. De S._ (s.n.a.t.c.hing a bit of lace from the heap). There! That's a lover's knot pattern. Why, it--

_Madam_ No, that's a sailor's knot. There is a great difference.

_Mrs. De S._ (vaguely). I don't see it.

_Madam_ (patiently). You see the loop in this bends down and in this, it bends--goes up. Every difference in the world, my dear Mrs. De Smythe.

_Mrs. De S._ (meekly, but convinced). Wouldn't it do? All bunched up?

_Madam_ But it is not to be bunched up!

_Mrs. De S._ (with a profound sigh). What can we do? And I threatened with an attack!

_Madam_ I don't know! (rises, sits down, then groans). I am at my wit's end. Let me think.

_Mrs. De S._ (with an inspiration). Take the lace off!

_Madam_ (crushingly). My dear Mrs. De Smythe, the gown is modelled for lace.

_Mrs. De S._ (helplessly). Oh!

(Madam sits in brown study, tapping her forehead.)

_Madam_ Let me see; Wednesday morning. (looks at watch). Ten o'clock. It might be done. Practically two days. (sits staring at wall). No, it couldn't! We might use chiffon.

_Mrs. De S._ Maude hates chiffon.

_Madam_ (with professional coldness). Chiffon is a very artistic tr.i.m.m.i.n.g.

_Mrs. De S._ (wearily). It may be--it may be, but you know Maude.

(Enter Miss Hoppenh.o.e.r.)

_Miss H._ (looks around; sniffs at the untidiness). Jennie, you look ready to faint!

_Mrs. De S._ Sit down. Don't stand there like--a--wooden Indian!

_Miss H._ They don't keel over every few minutes, anyhow! (sits with a thud). You look ready to faint!

_Mrs. De S._ I feel ready to faint; the lace has given out.

_Miss H._ (picking up things). The lace--?

_Mrs. De S._ (with infinite patience). The lace, you know, for Maude's dress.

_Miss H._ (blankly). Eh--what dress?

_Madam_ (in polite surprise). Why, Miss Hoppenh.o.e.r, what dress?

_Mrs. De S._ (shrilly). What dress,--oh, Matilda!

_Miss H._ (commencing to "straighten" room in earnest). Oh, is that all?

I thought the President had been a.s.sa.s.sinated!

_Mrs. De S._ Matilda! I must say you don't seem much interested. I should think you would,--your own niece, too!

_Miss H._ (tragically). Look at this room,--look at this room! It is a disgrace to a Christian community! Think of the breakfast we had--or rather, that we didn't have! And yesterday! And now you down sick--down sick! Does it take a month to graduate? (dusts an upholstered chair vigorously). It's such (bang) such non-(bang) nonsense!

_Mrs. De S._ Nonsense to graduate! Matilda Hoppenh.o.e.r! Do stop thrashing about! Ugh, that dust! (coughs weakly). Katherine will do that.

_Miss H._ (pounding sofa cushions). Katherine is busy; she has ten miles of flutin' to flute!

_Mrs. De S._ (coughing). Well, stop, anyway! My nerves are bad today.

_Miss H._ You are worn out. We're all as cross as bears!

_Madam_ (emerging from a brown study). What shall I do? And only a yard needed! I think chiffon--

_Miss H._ (straightening out a rug). Use ribbon.

_Madam_ (with dignity). They used ribbon last year.

_Miss H._ Fringe, then,--fringe is very dressy.

_Madam_ They used fringe two years ago.

_Miss H._ (snapping her up). Well, what's the idea? To use something that hasn't never been used?

(Maude comes in, breathless.)

_Maude_ (sitting down hard). Goodness, I'm tired! Auntie, your grammar is bad--very bad. What are you doing?

_Miss H._ (sarcastically). Getting you ready to graduate.