Colonel. Who told you that rubbish?
Miss beech. [With devilry.] You did!
Colonel. This is n’t an ordinary gold mine.
Miss beech. Oh! quite a special thing.
[Colonel stares
at her, but subsiding at hey impassivity, he
pores again over the
papers.]
[Rosy has approached with a tea cloth.]
Rose. If you please, sir, the Missis told me to lay the tea.
Colonel. Go away! Ten fives fifty. Ten 5 16ths, Peachey?
Miss beech. I hate your nasty sums!
[Rose goes away. The colonel Writes. Mrs. Hope’s voice is heard, “Now then, bring those chairs, you two. Not that one, Ernest.” Ernest and Letty appear through the openings of the wall, each with a chair.]
Colonel. [With dull exasperation.] What do you want?
Letty. Tea, Father.
[She places her chair and goes away.]
Ernest. That Johnny-bird Lever is too cocksure for me, Colonel. Those South American things are no good at all. I know all about them from young Scrotton. There’s not one that’s worth a red cent. If you want a flutter——
Colonel. [Explosively.] Flutter! I’m not a gambler, sir!
Ernest. Well, Colonel [with a smile], I only don’t want you to chuck your money away on a stiff ’un. If you want anything good you should go to Mexico.
Colonel. [Jumping up and holding out the map.] Go to [He stops in time.] What d’you call that, eh? M-E-X——
Ernest. [Not to be embarrassed.] It all depend on what part.
Colonel. You think you know everything—you think nothing’s right unless it’s your own idea! Be good enough to keep your advice to yourself.
Ernest. [Moving with his chair, and stopping with a smile.] If you ask me, I should say it wasn’t playing the game to put Molly into a thing like that.
Colonel. What do you mean, sir?
Ernest. Any Juggins can see that she’s a bit gone on our friend.
Colonel. [Freezingly.] Indeed!
Ernest. He’s not at all the sort of Johnny that appeals to me.
Colonel. Really?
Ernest. [Unmoved.] If I were you, Colonel, I should tip her the wink. He was hanging about her at Ascot all the time. It ’s a bit thick!
[Mrs. Hope followed by rose appears from the house.]
Colonel. [Stammering with passion.] Jackanapes!
Mrs. Hope. Don’t stand there, Tom; clear those papers, and let Rose lay the table. Now, Ernest, go and get another chair.
[The colonel looks
wildly round and sits beneath the hollow
tree, with his head
held in his hands. Rose lays the cloth.]