Rudyard Kipling - Soldiers Three

SCENE.— Interior of MISS MINNIE THREEGAN'S bedroom at Simla. MISS THREEGAN, in window–seat, turning over a drawerful of things. MISS EMMA DEERCOURT, bosom–friend, who has come to spend the day, sitting on the bed, manipulating the bodice of a ballroom frock and a bunch of artificial lilies of the valley . Time, 5.30 P. M. on a hot May afternoon.

MISS DEERCOURT. And he said: 'I shall never forget this dance,' and, of course, I said: 'Oh! how can you be so silly!' Do you think he meant anything, dear?

MISS THREEGAN. ( Extracting long lavender silk stocking from the rubbish. ) You know him better than I do.

MISS D. Oh, do be sympathetic, Minnie! I'm sure he does. At least I would be sure if he wasn't always riding with that odious Mrs. Hagan.

MISS T. I suppose so. How does one manage to dance through one's heels first? Look at this—isn't it shameful? ( Spreads stocking–heel on open hand for inspection )

MISS D. Never mind that! You can't mend it. Help me with this hateful bodice, I've run the string so , and I've run the string so , and I can't make the fulness come right. Where would you put this? ( Waves lilies of the valley. )

MISS T. As high up on the shoulder as possible.

MISS D. Am I quite tall enough? I know it makes May Olger look lop–sided.

MISS T. Yes, but May hasn't your shoulders. Hers are like a hock–bottle.

BEARER. ( Rapping at door. ) Captain Sahib aya.

MISS D. ( Jumping up wildly, and hunting for body, which she has discarded owing to the heat of the day. ) Captain Sahib! What Captain Sahib? Oh, good gracious, and I'm only half dressed! Well, I shan't bother.

MISS T. ( Calmly. ) You needn't. It isn't for us. That's Captain Gadsby. He is going for a ride with Mamma. He generally comes five days out of the seven.

AGONISED VOICE. ( From an inner apartment. ) Minnie, run out and give Captain Gadsby some tea, and tell him I shall be ready in ten minutes; and, O Minnie, come to me an instant, there's a dear girl!

MISS T. Oh, bother! ( Aloud. ) Very well, Mamma.

Exit, and reappears, after five minutes, flushed, and rubbing her fingers.

MISS D. You look pink. What has happened?

MISS T. ( In a stage whisper. ) A twenty–four–inch waist, and she won't let it out. Where are my bangles? ( Rummages on the toilet–table, and dabs at her hair with a brush in the interval. )

MISS D. Who is this Captain Gadsby? I don't think I've met him.

MISS T. You must have. He belongs to the Harrar set. I've danced with him, but I've never talked to him. He's a big yellow man, just like a newly–hatched chicken, with an e–normous moustache. He walks like this ( imitates Cavalry swagger ), and he goes 'Ha–Hmmm!' deep down in his throat when he can't think of anything to say. Mamma likes him. I don't.

MISS D. ( Abstractedly .) Does he wax his moustache?

MISS T. ( Busy with powder–puff .) Yes, I think so. Why?

MISS D. ( Bending oner the bodice and sewing furiously .) Oh, nothing—only—

MISS T. ( Sternly .) Only what? Out with it, Emma.

MISS D. Well, May Olger—she's engaged to Mr. Charteris, you know—said—Promise you won't repeat this?

MISS T. Yes, I promise. What did she say?

MISS D. That—that being kissed ( with a rush ) by a man who didn't wax his moustache was—like eating an egg without salt.

MISS T. ( At her full height, with crushing scorn .) May Olger is a horrid, nasty Thing , and you can tell her I said so. I'm glad she doesn't belong to my set—I must go and feed this man! Do I look presentable?

MISS D. Yes, perfectly. Be quick and hand him over to your Mother, and then we can talk. I shall listen at the door to hear what you say to him.

MISS T. 'Sure I don't care. I'm not afraid of Captain Gadsby.

In proof of this swings into drawing–room with a mannish stride followed by two short steps, which produces the effect of a restive horse entering. Misses CAPTAIN GADSBY, who is sitting in the shadow of the window–curtain, and gazes round helplessly.

CAPTAIN GADSBY. ( Aside .) The filly, by Jove! 'Must ha' picked up that action from the sire. ( Aloud, rising .) Good evening, Miss Threegan.

MISS T. ( Conscious that she is flushing .) Good evening, Captain Gadsby. Mamma told me to say that she will be ready in a few minutes. Won't you have some tea? ( Aside .) I hope Mamma will be quick. What am I to say to the creature? ( Aloud and abruptly .) Milk and sugar?

CAPT. G. No sugar, tha–anks, and very little milk. Ha–Hmmm.

MISS T. ( Aside .) If he's going to do that, I'm lost. I shall laugh. I know I shall!

CAPT. G. ( Pulling at his moustache and watching it sideways down his nose .) Ha–Hmmm. ( Aside .) 'Wonder what the little beast can talk about. 'Must make a shot at it.

MISS T. ( Aside .) Oh, this is agonising. I must say something.

BOTH TOGETHER. Have you been―

CAPT. G. I beg your pardon. You were going to say―

MISS T. ( Who has been watching the moustache with awed fascination .) Won't you have some eggs?

CAPT. G. ( Looking bewilderedly at the tea–table .) Eggs! ( A side .) O Hades! She must have a nursery–tea at this hour. S'pose they've wiped her mouth and sent her to me while the Mother is getting on her duds. ( Aloud .) No, thanks.

MISS T. ( Crimson with confusion .) Oh! I didn't mean that. I wasn't thinking of mou—eggs for an instant. I mean salt . Won't you have some sa― sweets? ( Aside .) He'll think me a raving lunatic. I wish Mamma would come.

CAPT. G. ( Aside .) It was a nursery–tea and she's ashamed of it. By Jove! She doesn't look half bad when she colours up like that. ( Aloud, helping himself from the dish .) Have you seen those new chocolates at Peliti's?

MISS T. No, I made these myself. What are they like?

CAPT. G. These! De –licious. ( Aside .) And that's a fact.

MISS T. ( Aside .) Oh, bother! he'll think I'm fishing for compliments. ( Aloud .) No, Peliti's of course.