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A Likely Story – Farce
by
CAMPBELL:“It is a sacred dance:
“Sur le pont d’Avignon–“
WELLING:“It’s an expiation:
“Tout le monde y danse en rond.”
MRS. CAMPBELL,springing from her chair and running to the window: “Stop, you crazy things! Here comes Jane! Come right in here, Jane! Did you get it? Give it to me, Jane!”
WELLING:“I think it belongs to me, Mrs. Campbell.”
CAMPBELL:“Jane, I am master of the house–nominally. Give me the letter.”
VI
[JANE; MRS. CAMPBELL; WELLING; CAMPBELL]
JANE,entering, blown and panting, through the open window: “Oh, how I did run–“
MRS. CAMPBELL:“Yes, yes! But the letter–“
WELLING:“Did you get it?”
CAMPBELL:“Where is it?”
JANE,fanning herself with her apron: “I can’t hardly get my breath–“
MRS. CAMPBELL:“Had she got back?”
JANE:“No, ma’am.”
CAMPBELL:“Did Mrs. Rice object to giving it up?”
JANE:“No, sir.”
WELLING:“Then it’s all right?”
JANE:“No, sir. All wrong.”
WELLING:“All wrong?”
CAMPBELL:“How all wrong?”
MRS. CAMPBELL:“What’s all wrong, Jane?”
JANE:“Please, ma’am, may I have a drink of water? I’m so dry I can’t speak.”
MRS. CAMPBELL:“Yes, certainly.”
CAMPBELL:“Of course.”
WELLING:“Here.” They all pour glasses of water and press them to her lips.
JANE,pushing the glasses away, and escaping from the room: “They thought Mrs. Campbell was in a great hurry for Miss Rice to have the letter, and they sent off the man with it to meet her.”
VII
[MRS. CAMPBELL; WELLING; CAMPBELL]
MRS. CAMPBELL:“Oh, merciful goodness!”
WELLING:“Gracious powers!”
CAMPBELL:“Another overruling providence. Now you are in for it, my boy! So is Amy. And so am I–which is still more to the point.”
MRS. CAMPBELL:“Well, now, what shall we do?”
CAMPBELL:“All that we can do now is to await developments: they’ll come fast enough. Miss Rice will open her letter as soon as she gets it, and she won’t understand it in the least; how could she understand a letter in your handwriting, with Welling’s name signed to it? She’ll show it to Miss Greenway–“
WELLING:“Oh, don’t say that!”
CAMPBELL:“–Greenway; and Miss Greenway won’t know what to make of it either. But she’s the kind of girl who’ll form some lively conjectures when she reads that letter. In the first place, she’ll wonder how Mr. Welling happens to be writing to Miss Rice in that affectionate strain–“
MRS. CAMPBELL,in an appealing shriek: “Willis!”
CAMPBELL:“–And she naturally won’t believe he’s done it. But then, when Miss Rice tells her it’s your handwriting, Amy, she’ll think that you and Miss Rice have been having your jokes about Mr. Welling; and she’ll wonder what kind of person you are, anyway, to make free with a young man’s name that way.”
WELLING:“Oh, I assure you that she admires Mrs. Campbell more than anybody.”
MRS. CAMPBELL:“Don’t try to stop him; he’s fiendish when he begins teasing.”
CAMPBELL:“Oh, well! If she admires Mrs. Campbell and confides in you, then the whole affair is very simple. All you’ve got to do is to tell her that after you’d written her the original of that note, your mind was so full of Mrs. Campbell and her garden-party that you naturally addressed it to her. And then Mrs. Campbell can cut in and say that when she got the note she knew it wasn’t for her, but she never dreamed of your caring for Miss Greenway, and was so sure it was for Miss Rice that she sent her a copy of it. That will make it all right and perfectly agreeable to every one concerned.”