come in.)
TOMMY (excitedly). I say, has Bob come?
GERALD. Why?
TOMMY. I could have sworn we saw him just now as we were coming in. At least, Letty swore she did--
LETTY. I _know_ I did.
TOMMY. So I gave him a shout, but he fairly trekked off. Was it Bob?
GERALD. Yes. Now look here, I want you to be two nice people. Don't say anything to anybody. He came, but he didn't want to see the whole crowd of us. He's going to Canada. I'll do all the explaining, if you two just say nothing. Do you see?
LETTY. Of course, Gerald.
TOMMY. Rather, old boy. Besides, it will make it much better for Letty and me.
LETTY. No rival attraction, Tommy means.
[Enter SIR JAMES and LADY FARRINGDON from the outer hull, having just returned from their lunch.]
SIR JAMES. Ah! here you all are.
GERALD. Had a good lunch?
SIR JAMES. Lunch was all right, but the people were dull, very dull.
LADY FARRINGDON. There were one or two nice ones, I thought, dear. They all knew about _you_, Gerald.
TOMMY (proudly). Of course they would.
SIR JAMES. Oh, one or two were all right, but _he_ was--well, I was discussing shorthorns with him after lunch, and he hardly seemed interested at all. Dull, very dull. I've got no use for that sort of man.
(During this speech the Butler has come in with a telegram for GERALD.)
GERALD (taking it). Just a moment. (He reads it quickly.) No answer. [Exit Butler.]
(GERALD reads his telegram again more thoughtfully.)
LADY FARRINGDON. From Pamela, dear?
GERALD. From the office. I shall have to go up at once.
LADY FARRINGDON (very disappointed). Oh, Gerald!
SIR JAMES. Something on?
GERALD. Rather an important thing really. I never thought I should get it, but there was just a chance. (Looking at his watch) Oh, I can do it comfortably.
SIR JAMES (obviously proud that GERALD is in the thick of things). What is it? I suppose you mustn't tell us.
GERALD. Something abroad.
SIR JAMES. Diplomatic mission, eh?
GERALD. Yes.
LETTY. That does sound so frightfully exciting.
LADY FARRINGDON (proudly). Oh, Gerald! (Thoughtfully). I wish we had known about it this morning, we could have mentioned it at lunch.
SIR JAMES. That ought to lead to something.
GERALD. Yes. I think it will. It's rather an opportunity:
(They are all round him now, just as they have always been. The buzz begins.)
SIR JAMES. Aha! you'll be an ambassador yet. What do you think of that, Letty?
LETTY. Well done, Gerald.
LADY FARRINGDON. How like you, Gerald!
TOMMY. Good old Gerald! I never knew such a chap. You really _are_!
GERALD (softly). I wish I weren't, Tommy! Oh, I wish I weren't!
(They don't hear him; they are still buzzing.)
THE BOY COMES HOME
A COMEDY IN ONE ACT
CHARACTERS.
UNCLE JAMES. AUNT EMILY. PHILIP. MARY. MRS. HIGGINS.
This play was first produced by Mr. Owen Nares at the Victoria Palace Theatre on September 9,1918, with the following cast:
Philip--OWEN NARES. Uncle James--TOM REYNOLDS. Aunt Emily--DOROTHY RADFORD. Mary--ADAH DICK. Mrs. Higgins--RACHEL DE SOLLA.
THE BOY COMES HOME
[SCENE.--A room in UNCLE JAMES'S house in the Cromwell Road.]
[TIME.--The day after the War.]
[Any room in UNCLE JAMES'S house is furnished in heavy mid-Victorian style; this particular morning-room is perhaps solider and more respectable even than the others, from the heavy table in the middle of it to the heavy engravings on the walls. There are two doors to it. The one at the back opens into the hall, the one at the side into the dining-room.]
[PHILIP comes from the hall and goes into the dining-room. Apparently he finds nothing there, for he returns to the morning-room, looks about him for a moment and then rings the bell. It is ten o'clock, and he wants his breakfast. He picks up the paper, and sits in a heavy armchair in front of the fire--a pleasant-looking well-built person of twenty-three, with an air of decisiveness about him. MARY, the parlour-maid, comes in.]
MARY. Did you ring, Master Philip?
PHILIP (absently). Yes; I want some breakfast, please, Mary.
MARY (coldly). Breakfast has been cleared away an hour ago.
PHILIP. Exactly. That's why I rang. You can boil me a couple of eggs or something. And coffee, not tea.
MARY. I'm sure I don't know what Mrs. Higgins will say?
PHILIP (getting up). Who is Mrs. Higgins?
MARY. The cook. And she's not used to being put about like this.
PHILIP. Do you think she'll say something? MARY. I don't know _what_ she'll say.
PHILIP. You needn't tell me, you know, if you don't want to. Anyway, I don't suppose it will shock me. One gets used to it in the Army. (He smiles pleasantly at her.)
MARY. Well, I'll do what I can, sir. But breakfast at eight sharp is the master's rule, just as it used to be before you went away
