Barlow. What say?
[Dorothy looks up, surprised.
Yardsley. I – I didn't say anything. My – ah – my shoe had a piece of – ah —
Barlow. Oh, say lint, and be done with it.
Yardsley (relieved, and thankful for the suggestion). Why, how did you know? It did, you know. Had a piece of lint on it, and I tried to get it off by stamping, that's all.
Dorothy. Ah, here it is.
Yardsley. What? The lint?
Barlow. Ho! Is the world nothing but lint to you? Of course not – the Gibson. Charming, isn't it, Miss Dorothy?
Dorothy (holding the picture up). Fine. Just look at that girl. Isn't she pretty?
Barlow. Very.
Dorothy. And such style, too.
Yardsley (looking over Dorothy's other shoulder). Yes, very pretty, and lots of style. (Softly.) Very – like some one – some one I know.
Barlow (overhearing). I think so myself, Yardsley. It's exactly like Josie Wilkins. By-the-way – ah – how is that little affair coming along, Bob?
Dorothy (interested). What! You don't mean to say – Why, Mister Yardsley!
Yardsley (with a venomous glance at Barlow). Nonsense. Nothing in it. Mere invention of Barlow's. He's a regular Edison in his own way.
[Dorothy looks inquiringly at Barlow.
Barlow (to Yardsley). Oh, don't be so sly about it, old fellow! Everybody knows.
Yardsley. But I tell you there's nothing in it. I – I have different ideas entirely, and you – you know it – or, if you don't, you will shortly.
Dorothy. Oh! Then it's some one else, Mr. Yardsley? Well, now I am interested. Let's have a little confidential talk together. Tell us, Mr. Yardsley, tell Mr. Barlow and me, and maybe – I can't say for certain, of course – but maybe we can help you.
Barlow (gleefully rubbing his hands). Yes, old man; certainly. Maybe we —we can help you.
Yardsley (desperately). You can help me, both of you – but – but I can't very well tell you how.
Barlow. I'm willing to do all I can for you, my dear Bob. If you will only tell us her name I'll even go so far as to call, in your behalf, and propose for you.
Yardsley. Oh, thanks. You are very kind.
Dorothy. I think so too, Mr. Barlow. You are almost too kind, it seems to me.
Yardsley. Oh no; not too kind, Miss Andrews. Barlow simply realizes that one who has proposed marriage to young girls as frequently as he has knows how the thing is done, and he wishes to give me the benefit of his experience. (Aside.) That's a facer for Barlow.
Barlow. Ha, ha, ha! Another joke, I suppose. You see, my dear Bob, that I am duly appreciative. I laugh. Ha, ha, ha! But I must say I laugh with some uncertainty. I don't know whether you intended that for a joke or for a staggerer. You should provide your conversation with a series of printed instructions for the listener. Get a lot of cards, and have printed on one, "Please laugh"; on another, "Please stagger"; on another, "Kindly appear confused." Then when you mean to be jocose hand over the laughter card, and so on. Shall I stagger?
Dorothy. I think that Mr. Yardsley meant that for a joke. Didn't you, Mr. Yardsley?
Yardsley. Why, certainly. Of course. I don't really believe Barlow ever had sand enough to propose to any one. Did you, Jack?
Barlow (indignant). Well, I rather think I have.
Dorothy. Ho, ho! Then you are an experienced proposer, Mr. Barlow?
Barlow (confused). Why – er – well – um – I didn't exactly mean that, you know. I meant that – ah – if it ever came to the – er – the test, I think I could – I'd have sand enough, as Yardsley puts it, to do the thing properly, and without making a – ah – a Yardsley of myself.
Yardsley (bristling up). Now what do you mean by that?
Dorothy. I think you are both of you horrid this afternoon. You are so quarrelsome. Do you two always quarrel, or is this merely a little afternoon's diversion got up for my especial benefit?
Barlow (with dignity). I never quarrel.
Yardsley. Nor I. I simply differ sometimes, that's all. I never had an unpleasant word with Jack in my life. Did I, Jack?
Barlow. Never. I always avoid a fracas, however great the provocation.
Dorothy (desperately). Then let us have a cup of tea together and be more sociable. I have always noticed that tea promotes sociability – haven't you, Mr. Yardsley?
Yardsley. Always. (Aside.) Among women.
Barlow. What say?
[Dorothy rises and rings the bell for Jennie.
Yardsley. I say that I am very fond of tea.
Barlow. So am I – here.
[Rises and looks at pictures. Yardsley meanwhile sits in moody silence.
Dorothy (returning). You seem to have something on your mind, Mr. Yardsley. I never knew you to be so solemn before.
Yardsley. I have something on my mind, Miss Dorothy. It's —
Barlow (coming forward). Wise man, cold weather like this. It would be terrible if you let your mind go out in cold weather without anything on it. Might catch cold in your idea.
Dorothy. I wonder why Jennie doesn't come? I shall have to ring again.
[Pushes electric button again.
Yardsley (with an effort at brilliance). The kitchen belle doesn't seem to work.
Dorothy. Ordinarily she does, but she seems to be upset by something this afternoon. I'm afraid she's in love. If you will excuse me a moment I will go and prepare the tea myself.
Barlow. Do; good! Then we shall not need the sugar.
Yardsley. You might omit the spoons too, after a remark like that, Miss Dorothy.
Dorothy. We'll omit Mr. Barlow's spoon. I'll bring some for you and me.
[She goes out.
Yardsley (with a laugh). That's one on you, Barlow. But I say, old man (taking out his watch and snapping the cover to three or four times), it's getting very late – after five now. If you want to go with Billie Wilkins you'd better take up your hat and walk. I'll say good-bye to Miss Andrews for you.
Barlow. Thanks. Too late now. You said Billie wouldn't wait after four-thirty.
Yardsley. Did I say four-thirty? I meant five-thirty. Anyhow, Billie isn't over-prompt. Better go.
Barlow. You seem mighty anxious to get rid of me.
Yardsley. I? Not at all, my dear boy – not at all. I'm very, very fond of you, but I thought you'd prefer opera to me. Don't you see? That's where my modesty comes in. You're so fond of a good chat I thought you'd want to go to-night. Wilkins has a box.
Barlow. You said seats a little while ago.
Yardsley. Of course I did. And why not? There are seats in boxes. Didn't you know that?
Barlow. Look here, Yardsley, what's up, anyhow? You've been deuced queer to-day. What are you after?
Yardsley (tragically). Shall I confide in you? Can I, with a sense of confidence that you will not betray me?
Barlow (eagerly). Yes, Bob. Go on. What is it? I'll never give you away, and I may be able to give you some good advice.
Yardsley. I am here to – to – to rob the house! Business has been bad, and one must live.
[Barlow looks at him in disgust.
Yardsley (mockingly). You have my secret, John Barlow. Remember that it was wrung from me in confidence. You must not betray me. Turn your back while I surreptitiously remove the piano and the gas-fixtures, won't you?
Barlow (looking at him thoughtfully). Yardsley, I have done you an injustice.
Yardsley. Indeed?
Barlow. Yes. Some one claimed, at the club, the other day, that you were the biggest donkey in existence, and I denied it. I was wrong, old man, I was wrong, and I apologize. You are.
Yardsley. You are too modest, Jack. You forget – yourself.
Barlow. Well, perhaps I do; but I've nothing to conceal, and you have. You've been behaving in a most incomprehensible fashion this afternoon, as if you owned the house.
Yardsley. Well, what of it? Do you own it?
Barlow. No, I don't, but —
Yardsley. But you hope to. Well, I have no such mercenary motive. I'm not after the house.
Barlow (bristling up). After the house? Mercenary motive? I demand an explanation of those words. What do you mean?
Yardsley. I mean this, Jack Barlow: I mean that I am here for – for my own reasons; but you – you have come here for the purpose of —
[Dorothy enters with a tray, upon which are the tea things.
Barlow (about to retort to Yardsley, perceiving Dorothy). Ah! Let me assist you.
Dorothy. Thank you so much. I really believe I never needed help more. (She delivers the tray to Barlow, who sets it on the table. Dorothy, exhausted, drops into a chair.) Fan me – quick – or I shall faint. I've – I've had an awful time, and I really don't know what to do!