Алан Милн - Belinda

TREMAYNE. I think we can find something better worth talking about than that.

BELINDA. Do you think so? ( He says "Yes" with his eyes, bows, and moves up C. The piano is now forte. BELINDA accompanies him up a little, then stops. He turns in entrance up C., and they exchange glances . TREMAYNE exits to R., behind yew hedge. BELINDA stays looking after him, then moves down to back of table and picking up the book of poems, gives that happy sigh of hers, only even more so .) O–oh!

( Enter BETTY from porch .)

BETTY. If you please, ma'am, Miss Delia says, are you coming in to tea?

BELINDA ( looking straight in front of her, and taking no notice of BETTY, in a happy, dreamy voice ). Betty, … about callers … . If Mr. Robinson calls—he's the handsome gentleman who hasn't been here before ( puts book down )—you will say, "Not at home." And he will say, "Oh!" And you will say, "I beg your pardon, sir, was it Mr. Robinson?" And he will say, "Yes!" And you will say, "Oh, I beg your pardon, sir―" ( Almost as if she were BETTY, she begins to move towards the house .) "This way―" ( she would be smiling an invitation over her shoulder to MR. ROBINSON, if he were there, and she were BETTY)—"please!" ( And the abandoned woman goes in to tea .)

CURTAIN

It is morning in BELINDA'S hall, a low–roofed, oak–beamed place, comfortably furnished as a sitting–room. There is an inner and an outer front–door, both of which are open. Up C. is a door leading to a small room where hats and coats are kept. A door on the L. leads towards the living–rooms .

DEVENISH enters from up L. at back, passes the windows of the inner room and crosses to the porch. He rings the electric bell outside, then enters through the swing doors R.C. BETTY enters R. and moves up at back of settee R. to DEVENISH by the swing doors. He is carrying a large bunch of violets and adopts a very aesthetic attitude .

BETTY. Good morning, sir.

DEVENISH. Good morning. I am afraid this is an unceremonious hour for a call, but my sense of beauty urged me hither in defiance of convention.

BETTY. Yes, sir.

DEVENISH ( holding up his bouquet to BETTY). See, the dew is yet lingering upon them; how could I let them wait until this afternoon?

BETTY. Yes, sir; but I think the mistress is out.

DEVENISH. They are not for your mistress; they are for Miss Delia.

BETTY. Oh, I beg your pardon, sir. If you will come in, I'll see if I can find her. ( She crosses to the door R. and goes away to find DELIA, dosing the door after her .)

(DEVENISH tries a number of poses about the room for himself and hit bouquet. He crosses below the table C. and sits L. of it and is about to place his elbow on the table when he finds the toy dog which has been placed there is in his way. He removes it to the centre of the table and then leans with his elbow on table and finds this pose unsuitable so he crosses to above the fireplace and leans against the upper portico, resting on his elbow which slips and nearly prostrates him. He then crosses up to L. of the cupboard door at back centre and leans on his elbow against the wall .)

( Enter DELIA from the door R.)

DELIA ( shutting the door and going to DEVENISH). Oh, good morning, Mr. Devenish.

Illustration

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(DEVENISH kisses her hand .)

I'm afraid my—er—aunt is out.

DEVENISH. I know, Miss Delia, I know.

DELIA. She'll be so sorry to have missed you. It is her day for you, isn't it?

DEVENISH. Her day for me?

DELIA. Yes; Mr. Baxter generally comes to–morrow, doesn't he?

DEVENISH ( jealously ). Miss Delia, if our friendship is to progress at all, it can only be on the distinct understanding that I take no interest whatever ( coming to back of table C.) in Mr. Baxter's movements.

DELIA ( moving down R. a little ). Oh, I'm so sorry; I thought you knew. What lovely flowers! Are they for my aunt?

DEVENISH. To whom does one bring violets? To modest, shrinking, tender youth.

DELIA. I don't think we have anybody here like that.

DEVENISH ( with a bow and holding out the violets to her ). Miss Delia, they are for you.

DELIA ( smelling and taking violets ). Oh, how nice of you! But I'm afraid I oughtn't to take them from you under false pretences; I don't shrink.

DEVENISH. A fanciful way of putting it, perhaps. They are none the less for you.

DELIA. Well, it's awfully kind of you. ( Puts flowers down. Then she moves up to the cupboard. He follows on her L. and opens the door .) I'm afraid I'm not a very romantic person. ( Turning to him in cupboard doorway .) Aunt Belinda does all the romancing in our family.

DEVENISH. Your aunt is a very remarkable woman.

DELIA. She is. Don't you dare to say a word against her. ( Takes up a vase from a chair in cupboard and shakes it as if draining it .)

DEVENISH. My dear Miss Delia, nothing could be further from my thoughts. Why, am I not indebted to her for that great happiness which has come to me in these last few days?

DELIA ( surprised ). Good gracious! and I didn't know anything about it. ( Coming down to R. of table with vase .) But what about poor Mr. Baxter?

DEVENISH ( stiffly, crossing over to fireplace, very annoyed ). I must beg that Mr. Baxter's name be kept out of our conversation.

DELIA ( going up to table behind Chesterfield up L.). But I thought Mr. Baxter and you were such friends.

(DELIA takes water carafe from the table and smiles at DEVENISH— which he does not see .)

Do tell me what's happened. ( Moving down to R. of table C., she sits and arranges the flowers .) I seem to have lost myself.

DEVENISH ( coming to the back of C. table and reclining on it .) What has happened, Miss Delia, is that I have learnt at last the secret that my heart has been striving to tell me for weeks past. As soon as I saw that gracious lady, your aunt, I knew that I was in love. Foolishly I took it for granted that it was she for whom my heart was thrilling. How mistaken I was! Directly you came, you opened my eyes, and now―

DELIA. Mr. Devenish, you don't say you're proposing to me?

DEVENISH. I am. I feel sure I am. ( Leaning towards her .) Delia, I love you.

DELIA. How exciting of you!

DEVENISH ( with a modest shrug ). It's nothing; I am a poet.

DELIA. You really want to marry me?

DEVENISH. Such is my earnest wish.

DELIA. But what about my aunt?

DEVENISH ( simply ). She will be my aunt–in–law.

DELIA. She'll be rather surprised.

DEVENISH. Delia, I will be frank with you. ( Sits .) I admit that I made Mrs. Tremayne an offer of marriage.

DELIA ( excitedly ). You really did? Was it that first afternoon I came?

DEVENISH. Yes.

DELIA. Oh, I wish I'd been there!

DEVENISH ( with dignity, rising and moving to L. of table ). It is not my custom to propose in the presence of a third party. It is true that on the occasion you mention a man called Baxter was on the lawn, but I regarded him no more than the old apple–tree or the flower–beds, or any other of the fixtures.

DELIA. What did she say?

DEVENISH. She accepted me conditionally.

DELIA. Oh, do tell me!

DEVENISH. It is rather an unhappy story. This man called Baxter in his vulgar way also made a proposal of marriage. Mrs. Tremayne was gracious enough to imply that she would marry whichever one of us fulfilled a certain condition.