f:> (oZS LeV5 All (y^ M,,^. J S 635 Z9 1433 opy 1 PRICE TWENTY-FIVE CENT3 rSALLGETMARRlED BY HELEN BAGG THE PENxN PUBLISHING COMPANY PHILADELPHIA Successful Rural Plays A Strong List From Which to Select Your Next Play FARM FOLKS. A Rural Play in Four Acts, by Arthur Lewis Tubes. For five male and six female characters. Time of playing, two hours and a half. One simple exterior, two easy interior scenes. Costumes, modern. Flora Goodwin, a farmer's daughter, is engaged to Philip Burleigh, a young New Yorker. Philip's mother wants him to marry a society woman, and by falsehoods makes Flora believe Philip does not love her. Dave Weston, who wants Flora himself, helps the deception by intercepting a letter from Philip to Flora. She agrees to marry Dave, but on the eve of their marriage Dave confesses, Philip learns the truth, and he and Flora are reunited. It is a simple plot, but full of speeches and situations that sway an audience alternately to tears and to laughter. Price, 25 cents. HOME TIES. A Rural Play in Four Acts, by Arthur Lewis Tubbs. Characters, four male, five female. Plays two hours and a half. Scene, a simple interior — same for all four acts. Costumes, modern. One of the strongest plays Mr. Tubbs has written. Martin Winn's wife left him when his daughter Ruth was a baby. Harold Vincent, the nephew and adopted son of the man who has wronged Martin, makes love to Ruth Winn. She is also loved by Len Everett, a prosperous young farmer. V/hen Martin discovers who Harold is, he orders him to leave Ruth. Harold, who does not love sincerely, yields. Ruth dis- covers she loves Len, but thinks she has lost him also. Then he comes back, and Ruth finds her happiness. Price 25 cents. THE OLD NEW^ HAMPSHIRE HOME. A New England Drama in Three Acts, by Frank Dumont. For seven males and four females. Time, two hours and a half. Costumes, modern. A play with a strong heart interest and pathos, yet rich in humor. Easy to act and very effective. A rural drama of the "Old Homstead" and "Way Down East" type. Two ex- terior scenes, one interior, all easy to set. Full of strong sit- uations and delightfully humorous passages. The kind of a play everybody understands and likes. Price, 25 cents. THE OLD DAIRY HOMESTEAD. A Rural Comedy in Three Acts, by Frank Dumont. For five males and four females. Time, two hours. Rural costumes. Scenes rural ex- terior and interior. An adventurer obtains a large sum of money from a farm house through the intimidation of the farmer's niece, whose husband he claims to be. Her escapes from the wiles of the villain and his female accomplice are both starting and novel. Price, 15 cents. A WHITE MOUNTAIN BOY. A Strong Melodrama in Five Acts, by Chaplf.s Townsend. For seven males and four females, and three supers. Time, two hours and twenty minutes. One exterior, three interiors. Costumes easy. The hero, a country lad. twice saves the life of a banker's daughter, which results in their betrothal. A scoundrelly clerk has the banker in his power, but the White Mountain boy finds a way to check- mate his schemes, saves the banker, and wins the girl. Price IS cents. THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY PHILADELPHIA Let's All Get Marrie A Comedy in Two Acts By HELEN BAGG Author of ''fVhisken,'' ^^Why not Jim;* etc. PHILADELPHTA THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 1914 Sue F Lewis of pla easy f am. • Yorl Copyright 1914 by The Penn Publishing Company Let's All Get Married , NOV "9 1914 ©CI.D ;;874 8 TMPS2-ooa605 Let's All Get Married CAST OF CHARACTERS Professor Maxwell Carrington . . with a reputa- tion for mathematics Ethel Carrington . his sister ^ who has a sweet secret Miss Laura Plum his devoted atmt Marjorie Miller . . . his dear^ though distafit, cousin GoLDiE McGrath . , . his very competent stenographer Everett Payne the family lawyer Rev. Benjamin Morris . . who has excellent intentions Dick Havens , ... an irresponsible undergraduate Jack Foster . a newspaper man who shares EtheV s secret Biggs a very satisfactory butler Place : — A small modern college town. Time : — An hour and a half. STORY OF THE PLAY Young Professor Carrington, who must marry at once or lose a fortune, has quarreled with his fiancee, Marjorie. Jack Foster, secretly engaged to Ethel, the Professor's sister, proposes that the Professor should marry his stenographer, Goldie. The new engagement has just been announced when Marjorie returns. Her pride wounded, she announces that she also is married. Jack Foster, falsely accused of being a burglar, saves himself by stating that he is Marjorie's husband. When everybody and everything are in the worst possible tangle it is Jack again who saves the situation and everybody pairs off happily. COSTUMES Max. Thirty. Rather nervous and irritable. Eye-glasses. Act I, business suit. Act II, evening dress. Ethel. Twenty-three. Pretty. Act 1, wears fall hat and outdoor suit covered by long coat and furs, and carries college pennant at first entrance. Act II, evening dress. Miss Plum. Fifty. Act I, plain indoor dress. Act II, evening dress suitable for her age. Marjorie. Twenty- five. Pretty. Act I, fall traveling suit, hat, and coat. Carries a hand-bag. Act II, handsome evening dress, covered later with long motoring coat and bonnet. GoLDiE. Twenty. Pretty blonde, with golden hair. Her hair may be of another color if necessary, but in this case the name of the character would better be changed. Act I, wears simple fall suit and hat. Act II, simple evening dress, coat and hat. Payne. Sixty. A rather fussy old gentleman with eye- glasses. Act I, dark suit. Act II, evening dress. Morris. Twenty-eight. A mild-mannered young clergy- man. Wears outdoor garb of an Episcopal clergyman in both acts. Dick. Twenty. A typical young college student with a pronounced taste in ties and socks. Wears fall suit in both acts, or may appear in evening dress in Act II. Overcoat and hat in Act II. Jack. Twenty-eight. Act I, wears business suit with overcoat and hat at first entrance. Act II, evening dress. Biggs. Fifty. Typical English butler with side whiskers, very correct in the details of his dress. Black suit, white gloves. PROPERTIES Biggs. Silver candlestick ; thirteen cards suitable for dinner ** place cards " ; table silver in basket ; tea tray with tea service and cups for six, tea, sugar, lemon, etc.; a glass of water. Miss Plum. Flowers, newspaper, sewing, handkerchief. GoLDiE. Typewriter and paper for it; note-book and pencil ; several sealed envelopes, stamped and ad- dressed. Max. Papers, magazine. Ethel. Picture of Marjorie in frame; handkerchief. Payne. Note-book and pencil. Dick. Gravy ladle, or other piece of silver suitable for a wedding present, wrapped up in a box. SCENE PLOT Exterior BacKir>g Scene. — Living-room of Professor Carrington. Let's All Get Married ACT I SCENE. — Llvi?ig-room of Professor Carrington. Door up C. may he glass y and in any case is supposed to lead to garden. Doors R. and L., also. Bookcase tip L. ; on it a photography framed. Table down R., covered with books and papers. On it, also, is a vase for flowers and a package of paper to look like a type- written manuscript. Armchair down R. of table , and another chair on up side of table. L. C, small stand holding typewriter y with chair behind it. Down L., couch or sofa. Other simple furnishings as desired. A *^ tea wagon'' or a small low table may be brought /«, if desired, when tea is served in Act I. (^Enter Biggs, l., carrying a silver candlestick which he is polishing.^ Biggs. Was it your h'dee, Miss, to use these 'ere on the dinner table this hevenin' ? Miss Laura Plum {turnins^'). Yes, Bigps. I always use them on my nephew's birthday. They belonged to Great-grandmother Curtis. Biggs (^polite, though unimpressed^. Hindeed, Miss ! Hit's a queer day for a birthday, Miss — Friday the 13th. Miss P. Awful, but what is one to do? (She comes down; picks up a darning basket ; sits and darns, R.) BiGGS {rubbing candlestick^. Thirteen covers. Hi believe you said, Miss ? Miss P. Thirteen? No, indeed, Big,s:s, fourteen. We've had the same fourteen for the last five birthdays. Biggs {taking cards from his pocket, he puts candlestick on chair, c.). Miss Ethel wrote the cards, Miss, and there was thirteen. {Crosses and hands them to her.) 7 LETS ALL GET MARRIED Miss P. Impossible ! (^Counts them and stops in horror.') Thirteen ! Good gracious me ! Biggs. Hit's generally considered hunlucky, Miss, to sit down with thirteen. Miss P. Sit down with thirteen ? I wouldn't think of such a thing. (Looks at cards again.) Oh, I see, 1 counted in Marjorie ! Biggs. Marjorie ? Miss P. Miss Miller. A distant relative who has always lived with us till this year. Biggs. Hoh. (^Crosses back to chair ; takes up candlestick ; polishes.) Miss P. There isn't a single soul that I can ask without hurting some one's else feelings. I might get that Freshman who's always following Ethel around. Biggs. Hi should prefer to run the chances on the bad luck, ma'am. (^Enter GoLDiE McGrath, c. She takes off her hat and hangs it at R. c. on chair. Sits at the machine.) GoLDiE {breezily^. Good-afternoon. Guess I'm late. My little brother's got the measles. (Biggs moves atvay frotn her disgustedly.) Miss P. Dear me, Goldie, I hope GoLDiE. Oh, he's all right; measles ain't anything. Yes- terday we was afraid it was smallpox. (Biggs moves farther still.) Miss P. Do you think it's all right to come to the house? Goldie. Mercy, yes. Measles aren't catching when you've walked a mile. Miss P. I don't believe it is safe, Goldie, for you to walk all that distance alone. Goldie. Sometimes I have company. (Biggs snickers discreetly.) Miss P. Oh, Havens ! {A pause.) Oh, yes, I see I Goldie. And right glad I am to have company these days, with this burglar around. Miss P. Burglar ? 8 LETS ALL GET 3IABBIED Biggs. Yes, Miss, there's a burglar in this town, all right. Just skipped the pen. Been doing time. Miss P. Who did you say this person is ? Biggs (importantly). Slick Joe, the " Parson," Miss. GoLDiE. They call him tiiat because he's such a smooth guy. It's all in this morning's paper. (Points to paper on table.) Biggs. 'E used to himpersonate the clergy, Miss, and sell 'ymn books. GoLDiE (taking off hat, etc.). That was when he was a con man ! He Miss P. (picking tip paper, and reading). Good Heavens! is he at large now ? GoLDiE. Is he? Well, I guess the Thompsons think so. He made a clean get-away with all the silver they had. Quite a haul, they say. Funny, I had them sized up as the kind that don't have anything but a buzz wagon. Miss P. Great-grandmother Curtis' s silver ! Biggs, you must see that everything is locked up to-night after the dinner. Biggs. Yes, Miss. (Puts candlestick on bookcase. Exit, R.) GoLDiE. He better had. A swell dinner party is just the place for a burglar to make a good haul. Professor back from class yet ? Miss P. No, he's late to-day. GoLDiE. Now, ain't that lucky? I can run off these last pages before he comes. (She puts paper into the machifie and begins writing.) Miss P. Is it the new novel you're working on ? GoLDiE. Yes. He's thinking of caUing it ** Thy Brother's Wife." Miss P. I hope it will have a good sale. GoLDiE. Anything would sell with that name. Miss P. It doesn't suggest the psychological value of the work. GoLDiE. Why should it? Want to queer the thing at the very start ? Miss P. But of course there's no question of its being well 9 LETS ALL GET MARRIED received ; his first book was such a success. Only one unfavorable review, and that was from a man on a Boston paper. GoLDiE. Well, I never should care what a guy from Boston said about me ! Miss P. His name was Foster — Jack Foster. He criti- cized the grammar — the grammar 1 GoLDiE. Well, he had a nerve ! Miss P. If he'd criticized it from an ethical or a psycho- logical point of view one wouldn't have minded ] but to be told that one had used "should" where one should have used " would " — or was it *' would " where one would have used Oh, well, you know what 1 mean. (^Enter Biggs, r.) Biggs. Mr. Payne, Miss, to see the Professor. Miss P. Show him in *here. Biggs. The Professor hasn't returned from class yet. Biggs. Very well, Miss. {Exit, R. ) GoLDiE. Mr. Payne's a lawyer, ain't he? Miss P. Yes. He's probably come a little early to con- sult with the Professor in regard to that dreadful busi- ness of old Mr. Carrington's will. This is the last day, you know, before it is settled up. It makes me so blue even to think about it. (GoLDiE shakes her head sympathetically but goes on with her work.) (^Enter Biggs, r., followed by Everett Payne, evidently quite disturbed by sotnething. ) Biggs. Mr. Payne. (^Exit Biggs, r. Miss P. rises.^ Payne (shaking hands). Good-afternoon, Miss Plum. I haven't come to dinner, let me reassure you. Just dropped in to have a little chat with Max. Miss P. He'll be back directly. Do sit down. (JShe sits.) Payne (crossing to c). Good -afternoon, Miss McGrath. Working on the new novel ? Goldie (still thumping the machine). Yep. We're mak- ID LET'S ALL GET MARRIED ing the early bird and the busy bee look like thirty cents these days. (Payne sits^ bringing chair to table. Goldie contitiues to work.') Miss P. {taking up her sewing). Yes. I wish Max wouldn't work so hard. Payne. My dear friend, does it ever occur to you that Max is trying to drown his sorrows in — well — in mathe- matics and works of art ? Miss P. Sorrows? Oh, you mean Marjorie? Payne. I do mean Marjorie. (Goldie's ears are busy lis- tenings though she continues to work.) In fact, I don't regard this birthday of Max's as an occasion of re- joicing at all. I Miss P. {reaching for her handkerchiefs but gettifig a sock instead, and wiping her eyes). 1 know it, but I must try to take his mind off his troubles in some way, I'm sure it's hard enough on all the family to have Max lose an inheritance of two hundred thousand dollars — just because Marjorie Miller has a nasty temper 1 Payne. I don't blame Marjorie. Miss P. I'm sure you can't blame Max. Payne. I don't blame either of the young people; I blame old Mr. Carrington for making such an absurd will, knowing both his nephew and his ward as he did. Miss P. That's just why he did it. He knew what unre- liable tempers Payne. What sky-rocket tempers — I beg pardon ! Miss P. {stiffly). What peculiar tempers they both have. You see, Marjorie and Max were engaged, and old Mr. Carrington was so afraid that it wouldn't last, that he made that will providing that unless they were married by his thirtieth birthday, and her twenty-fifth Payne. Odd that their birthdays should come on the same day ! Miss P. They would forfeit each an inheritance of two hundred thousand. Payne. An insane will ! I told him so when I drew it up, but he wouldn't listen. Miss P. No Carrington ever listened to common sense until it was too late. Of course the grass wasn't green on the poor man's grave before they'd quarreled. II LETS ALL GET MARRIED Payne. I've always wondered what. the quarrel was about. Miss P. Haven't the least idea. I know that Max wrote her in June GoLDiE. July. Miss P. {startled). What ? Payne. Bkss me ! GoLDiE. He let it out one day when he had a grouch. Of course I wouldn't think of mentioning it outside the family. Miss P. I should hope not. GoLDiE (gathering up her papers a7id rising'). Guess PU run down to the post-office and get the mail. {Exit, c.) Payne. What an extraordinary young person ! Miss P. Very ! Payne. But rather attractive. Miss P. If you care for the type. Payne (Jiastily). Oh, of course not — but, about Marjorie? Miss P. Well, they quarreled, and Marjorie went al)road. As Goldie says, Max wrote to her and begged her to come back. Payne. What did she say ? Miss P. Two words by cable. *' Nothing doing." Payne. And so the money goes to the Old Ladies' Home. Miss P. (tearfully). Vm sure I hope they'll enjoy it. That miserable girl has blighted Max's life. Payne. I suppose there's no use talking to him about it? He's done the best he could. Miss P. My dear man, I beg of you not to talk of it. There are two subjects that are taboo in this house — Marjorie Miller and Jack Foster. Payne (rising). Perhaps you're right. The artistic tem- perament is Miss P. (rising). As you were just saying — peculiar. Payne (returni?ig to chair). Too confoundedly peculiar. Well, ril run along. See you at dinner. Miss P. Come back for tea and you'll find Max. Payne (in surprise). Tea ? Miss P. We've been having it since Biggs came. He says his system feels the need of it. {As he starts to go, r.) ril ring for him. LETS ALL GET MARRIED Payne. Don*t trouble. I'll take the short cut through the garden. Miss P. Well, if you don't mind. Biggs does hate being disturbed when he has his mind on anything. (Payne steps out at c. She rises, puts away her sewing.) I believe that that's a good idea of mine— telephoning the doctor. I'll {Enter Professor Maxwell Carrington, r. He car- ries a bunch of papers which he throws down on the table.') Max. Hasn't that girl come yet ? {Throws his hat at a chair ^ R.) Miss P. Yes, but she went out again to get the mail. Did you see Mr. Payne ? {She goes up, picks up hat, and hangs it carefully on chair.) Max. {crossing to machine, L., and taking up Goldie's manuscript). Payne ? Miss P. He just this moment left. Max. What did he want ? Miss P. He wanted to see you. Max. Wanted to dig up that old stuff about the will, I suppose ? ( Crosses R. ) Miss P. Well, you know, my dear, to-day Max. {irritably). My dear Aunt Laura, there's nothing for us to do about that money but to look cheerful and hand it over to the Old Ladies. {Sits r. ) Miss P. {comitig down). You don't look particularly cheerful. Max. I am. I'm tickled to death. I was always fond of old ladies. Where's Ethel ? Miss P. Gone to the football game with that Havens fellow. Max. Isn't he rather rushing Ethel ? yiYS^'S^Y. {sarcastically). Rushing? Oh, no. He's simply living here, morning, noon and night. I'm thinking seriously of telling Biggs to put a plate on for him for breakfast. Max. {absently). Humph. 13 LETS ALL GET 3TABEIED Miss P. It's very trying having two pretty girls in the house at once. Max. Two ? Miss P. Yes. I'm not at all sure that Goldie isn't the at- traction. At his age, they're apt to be partial to blondes. And he's been walking home with her every now and then. Max. Nonsense. Miss P. Well, it would be a very good thing for her — with all his father's money. Max. It would be a very bad thing for me — having to break in a new stenographer. Miss P. As for Elhel — has it ever occurred to you, Max, that Ethel has something on her mind ? I mean, since she came home from Boston ? Max. No. Ethel hasn't any mind. Miss P. You mark my words, there's a man in Boston. Max. Several, I dare say. It's a large town. Miss P. {angrily'). Have you no feelings at all outside of mathematics and fiction? {She goes up c.) Max. {jinnpiiig up). Great Scott, that girl's mixed up the examination papers for next week with my last chapter ! Talk about minds ! {Goes to machine.) {Enter Goldie, r., with mail.) Miss P. I told you so ! It's Dick Havens ! Goldie. Here's the mail. {She hands ///^Max., who throws it on the floor.) Goodness, what's the matter, Professor ? Max. {taking her by the shoulder and waving the papers wildly before her). Now, look here, you'll remember that I told you last week when you put the laundry list in with the chapter on Bella's divorce, that if you did it again Goldie. But Max. And here you've mixed up the exams for next week's mathematics with Goldie. I'm sorry — I Max. What's the matter with you? Can't you read? What the Miss P. {wamingly). Max ! Goldie {bursting into tears). My little brother's got the measles, and I'm just that upset 14 LETS ALL GET 3TARRIED Max. (Jnrjiing azvay and crossing). Last week it was be- cause your mother was changing cooks. GOLDIE {smiffling). 1 — I Miss P. If her mother was changing cooks she had every excuse. (^Exit Miss P., l. Goldie continues to sob.) GoLDiE. I'm sorry. If — if I don't give satisfaction maybe — maybe you'd better get somebody else. But I — I {Sobs wildly. Max. slams paper down on table.) Max. (^crossing to her, pats her shoulder). Now, don't cry — please don't cry Goldie. I can't help it. (^Enter Ethel Carrington, r. She has just come from the football game and is very much excited. Noise of feet outside.) Ethel. We beat 'em. Score 12 to o. I've had such a good time. Come on in, Dick ! (Sees Goldie and Max.) Why, what's tlie matter ? {Enter Dick Havens, r.) Max. Nothing. Are you people coming in here? Ethel. Why, yes. Do you mind ? Max. (angrily). Oh, certainly not. I can work in the dining-room or the pantry or the coal bin ! It doesn't matter about me ! Come on ! {Exit, L., with a gesture to Goldie, who dries her eyes, picks up her 710 1 e-book and pencil and starts to follow^ glancing coquettishly at Dick.) Dick. I say, what is the matter ? Goldie. Something's put the artistic temperament on the blink again. {Exity l., after Max.) Ethel. He's been thinking about Marjorie. Poor brother ! 15 LETS ALL GET MARRIED {She crosses to davenport and begins taking off her wraps » He follows her J but with an eye on the vanishing GOLDIE.) Dick. I say, why does Miss — Miss What's her name Ethel. McGrath ? Dick. Why does she always run away when I come around ? Ethel. Does she? I hadn't noticed. Dick. Yes, she does. What's the matter with her ? Ethel {teasingly). Perhaps she doesn't like you. Dick. Huh? Ethel. People take tliese queer dislikes sometimes, don't you know ? Do you think she's pretty ? Dick. You bet. Don't you? Ethel. Oh, well enough. If you want to see a pretty girl, you ought to see my Cousin Marjorie. Dick. No, I oughtn't. Two pretty girls are all I can stand seeing at once without getting cross-eyed. Ethel. And to think that 1 thought, Dick Havens, that you were rushing me ! Dick. I was — I mean — 1 Ethel. You were not. You've been coming here all this time just to look at brother's stenographer. Don't deny it. Dick. But I Ethel {laughifig). You needn't look so scared. I don't mind. Listen ; I'm engaged to somebody else. Dick. You ? Who is he ? Ethel. Hush, nobody knows anything about it. Dick. Is it that sky pilot that the Professor's so gone on ? Ethel. Ben Morris? No, indeed. It's a man I met in Boston. Dick. Oh, I say. Ethel. But we can't get married for ever and ever so long. Dick. What's the matter ? Hasn't the man a job ? Ethel. Of course he's got a job ! But he's a man that brother hates like — like poison. His name's Jack Fos- ter, and Dick. Oh, I see ! The chap that roasted his book ? Ethel. Yes. You see how hopeless the whole thing is. Dick. Why don't you cut and run ? i6 LETS ALL GET MARRIED Ethel. Elope? Never. Why, I haven't even let Jack know that we're engaged. He thinks that I've refused him. Dick. He must be rather a mutt. Ethel. He is not a mutt. He's a very clever man. {She hands him her wraps.') Now you see how I can sym- pathize with you about Goldie. Dick. Thanks, awfully. (^Crosses r. with the wraps.) Ethel. Why don't you stick around and walk home with her ? She usually goes in about an hour. Dick, You're a brick. 1 will. {He puts her things down on the table, pushing manuscript to the floor.) Ethel (jumping up). Look out ! That's brother's novel ! (Dick stoops and picks it up.) I'll be so glad when it's finished. He's so cranky when he's getting near the end of one. Dick {glancing at a page). Oh, I say, listen to this I {Reads.) ** Her face was suifused with blushes, her voice trembled with emotion. 'Cyril,' she said bravely, * Cyril, if the hypothenuse of a right angled tri- angle ' " {He stops.) Great day in the morn- ing, what's this? Ethel. Sounds familiar, somehow. Dick {solemnly). Familiar? The stenog has mixed up the mathematics exam with the Professor's latest ! I knew that girl was going to bring me good luck some- how. Ethel. Give me that tliis minute. Dick. Never. Going to call a class meeting and pass it around. Who am I to crab the whole snap ! Ethel. No, you shan't. {Tries to get the papers from DiCK, who dodges her.) Dick. Nonsense. He'll enjoy it. Think of the honor of having the whole class pass A i. {Enter BiGGS, R. While he takes Ethel's attention DiCK ducks through the door, c. Ethel crosses down L.) Biggs. A young gentleman to see you. Miss. 'E didn't give no nyme. 17 LET'S ALL GET 3IARBIED Ethel. How queer. Well, show him in. {^Exit Biggs, r. Ethel goes to window and calls.') Dick I You wretch ! Come back here ! (^E?Uer Jack Foster, r.) Jack. Won't I do? Ethel {turning, sees Jack; rufis to him, holding out both her hands). Jack ! Jack Foster ! Who'd have thought of its being you ? Jack {taking her hands). Why, you didn't think I took that ** no " of yours seriously, did you ? Ethel. You'd better take it seriously, young man, in this house. Jack. Then let's go out in the garden. Ethel {stopping him). Now, look here, Jack ; I told you not to come here. Brother' d like nothing better than to have you put out bodily. Jack. I'm not afraid of your brother. Ethel, Well, I am; in the frame of mind that he's in to-day. Jack. What's the matter with him ? Ethel. To-day is his thirtieth birthday. Jack. What of it ? I'm twenty-seven myself, but I expect to worry along for a few years more. Ethel. You're not losing a fortune because the girl you were engaged to jilted you. Jack. I'd forgotten about that. Hasn't she changed her mind yet? Ethel {crossing r. to him). No. And, Jack, you must go. Brotiier's writing in the coal bin or somewhere, and he's likely to come in any minute. Jack. Does he usually write in the coal bin? No wonder his grammar's shaky. Ethel. Jack, please. If brother found out that Td almost become engaged to the man who wrote that awful article, he'd go mad. Jack. It wasn't my fault. If I'd known that he was a relative of yours, he could have torn the English lan- guage limb from limb for all of me. [Goes up l.) Ethel {crossing to c). That doesn't help matters now. Jack. I say, Ethel, would you marry me if it weren't for your brother ? Ethel. Of course. Any girl would. i8 LETS ALL GET MARRIED Jack. Then your brother's going to get the worst case of love at first sight over me that ever came up the pike. {Comes down L.) Ethel. What are you going to do ? Jack {sitting on coucli). I'm going to stay to dinner, for one thing. Ethel. Jack ! Jack {starting to rise). Don't you like having me 'round ? Of course, 1 can take the next train back to Boston if you say so. Ethel {crossing to kifn). No. Jack {sitting again), 'fhen I'll stay to dinner. Now, what kind of a young man does your brother prefer ? Ethel. What ? Jack. Is he partial to clergymen, or actors, or traveling salesmen, or what ? Ethel. What do you mean ? Jack. Now, look here, Ethel, all your brother knows about me is that I wrote an article that knocked his book. Ethel. That was enough. Jack. Don't you suppose that if he were to meet me with- out knowing who I am, that he'd think me a rather de- cent sort of ciiap ? Ethel {doubtfully). Well, he might, but Jack. Well, introduce me as some one else, and give me a chance to fascinate him. Time is ail i need. Ethel. He'd see through us. Jack. He won't see through me. Ethel. And auntie's awfully sharp about finding things out. Jack. Well, auntie'll have to get up early in the morning if she finds me out. {Pause.) Better make up your mind before brother comes out of the coal bin. Ethel [sitting on couch). I have it ! Let's pretend that you're a clergyman — brother's best friend's a clergy- man — the Rev. Benjamin Morris, a Harvard man. I'll tell you a secret, Jack. Jack. Well ? Ethel. Brother's set his heart on the Rev. Benjamin and me making a match of it. Jack. The dickens he has ! Ethel. Let's introduce you as — let's see — the Rev. LET'S ALL GET 3IAERIED Jack. Simpson. It's easy to remember, and sounds orthodox. Ethel. The Rev. Arthur Simpson. Jack. Make it << Percy " if you Uke. I don't care. Ethel. Jack, do you really think you can bluff brother? Jack. I could bluff a locomotive off a track if it meant being engaged to you. (^Staris to embrace her.) Ethel {rising). No, you're not engaged to me — yet. Where are you stopping ? The hotel ? Jack {rising). That's what they call it. Ethel. You must get your things and come here right away. Jack. Isn't that rather crowding brother ? Ethel. I don't care. I won't marry a man with a crip- pled digestion. You must get away from that hotel at once. Jack. All right. You're the boss. Ethel. And Jack, be very careful when you meet brother. This is a wild proposition. Jack. Well, from all I hear, so is brother. Don't you worry about me. {Starts out r.) Ethel. Not that way, you'll meet somebody. Go out by the garden gate. Jack. Don't forget, the Rev. Percy Ethel. Arthur ! Jack. Blame it, I meant Arthur. But how about your aunt ? Ethel. I'll go and tell her now. Hurry. (She runs off, r. Jfe stops a moment to pick up his hat.) Jack. Me for the garden gate. {Exit, c. Just as Biggs enters, r. Biggs stares at him as he disappears. ) Biggs. Well, Hi never ! What an hextraordinary young man ! Hi don't like the looks of it just at this time. 'E may be a book hagent and 'e may be somethink worse. Hi'U keep an heye on him. (Exit, c, after Jack.) (Enter Ethel, r., and Miss P., L.) Ethel. Oh, auntie, where have you been? 20 LETS ALL GET MARRIED Miss P. Telephoning the doctor, and he can't come ! Ethel (/;/ alanii). The doctor? Miss P. {siiti?ig l.). Yes, to dinner. He says he's been performnig an operation for appendicitis, and he's too tired. Isn't that just like a man? Every little thing plays them out. Ethel {crossing to her). But, auntie, why did you want him to come to dinner? Miss P. Do you want something terrible to happen to one of us? Ethel. But why should it ? What's the matter with the dinner ? Miss P. Matter ? We're thirteen — that's what's the matter. Ethel. Oh. Miss P. I won't do it. I've never done it, and Pm too old to begin. I'll have appendicitis myself first. {Takes out her handkerchief as though about to cry.) Ethel. You needn't, dear. Pll fix it for you. Miss P. You shan't invite that Freshman ! Ethel. Nonsense. Pll get you a splendid guest — there — there Miss P. Where are you going to get him ? I've thought of everybody in town. Ethel. This is somebody from out of town. A friend of mine from Boston. Miss P. (Jriuinphantly). I knew there was a man in Boston ! Ethel. Why, Aunt Laura ! Miss P. I told Max {Enter Max. excitedly , l.) Max. (coming down c). Is there no place in this house where a man can think in peace ? Ethel {rising). Max, dear Max. {turning on her). The library is given up to Fresh- men, I go into the dining-room, and that fool Biggs is cleaning the silver; into the kitchen and they're grind- ing ice cream ; into the coal bin and the man comes to take the gas meter! I might as well live in a boiler factory. Miss P. Max, dear, why don't you go up-stairs? 21 LETS ALL GET MARRIED Max. They're housecleaning up-stairs. Do you think a brain can do its work with a vacuum cleaner hounding it from room to room ? ( Goes k.) Miss P. But, dear boy, our guests Max. Confound our guests ! I wish they were all dead and buried. Miss P. {solemnly). They probably will be within a year. Ethel. Now, auntie, don't worry poor Max about that thirteen business. I tell you I've invited another man for you. Miss P. Already ? Ethel. Yes, he's at the hotel now, but he'll be up directly. {To Max.) Auntie's just discovered that we are thirteen to-night, but it's all right. Pve invited a friend of mine from Boston. Max. {instantly). Boston? Ethel {quickly). A young man named Simpson. Miss P. {(iisdaififully). Simpson ? Ethel. He's a splendid fellow. I met him when I was down there last summer. He — he seems to think he likes me. Miss P. {triumphantly). You will remember, Max, that I told you Max. Nonsense. Girls will have seashore flirtations. Ethel's too much interested in Ben Morris to get fool- ish over any one else. Miss P. She doesn't strike me as being interested in him to any alarming extent. Ethel. Oh, yes, I am I Pm awfully interested in him. But this young man — oh, well, you'll be crazy about him when you know him. He's so — so fascinating. Miss P. I distrust fascinating men. They don't wear well. Ethel. Rubbish ! Anybody'd think you were talking about a parlor carpet. Max. {sitting r.). He'll probably take the curse off the dinner, Aunt Laura. Better let him come. {Picks up magazine.) Ethel. He came up to call this afternoon, and was so dis- appointed to find you out that I simply had to ask him to dinner. Miss P. Of course, if you've asked him 22 LETS ALL GET MARRIED Ethel. Had to — common politeness. He's got such a crush on brother I Max. Humph ! Ethel. Thinks your books the greatest ever, and he's crazy to know you. Max. Well, under the circumstances, Aunt Laura, I don't quite see bow Elliel could get out of asking him with- out being positively rude. Ethel. Of course not. You see, Arthur Both. Arthur ? Ethel. I mean Simpson — Mr. Simpson — of course; I don't call him Arthur to his face ! Miss P. I should hope not ! Max. I wish I hadn't brought you up in a college town, Ethel. You've an informality of manner that's posi- tively appalling at times. Miss P. It's not the college; it's the association with that typewriter person. If you could only copy Mar- jorie Ethel. I don't want to be like Marjorie. You wouldn't catch me jilting a nice young man and two hundred thousand. Max. {throwing down his magaziiie). Great Jupiter Am- nion ! Enter Biggs, r. Biggs, The Rev. Harthur Simpson. Max. Reverend ? Ethel {giggling). I forgot to tell you he is a preacher. ( Enter Jack, breezily. Biggs, eyeing him with suspi- cion, stands in the doorway. He gives a slight cough, which attracts Miss P.'s attention ; she catches his meaning glance.') Good -afternoon, Mr. Simpson. {To Biggs.) Bring tea. Biggs. Biggs {without going). Yes, Miss. Jack. Miss Carrington. Ethel. My aunt. Miss Plum. Miss P. {incoherently). So glad to meet you, Mr. Simpkins. Ethel {severely). Simpson. Miss P. Simpson, of course. My nephew, Professor Car- rington, Mr. Simpson. Max. Glad to know you. Biggs. Hist I 23 LET'S ALL GET 3IARBIED (Miss P. Jumps, turns , pantomime between the two ; she catches his idea.) Jack. I've wanted to know you, Professor, for some time. I Biggs. Ahem ! Max. What's the matter with you, Biggs ? Biggs {injured). Nothing, sir. Max. Well, get the tea, then. Biggs. Yes, sir. (Exit, R.) Miss P. (in answer to a last look from Biggs). I think I'd better go and help him. He has so much to do to-day and his feelings are so sensitive. (Exit, R., grabbifig the candlestick as she goes.) Max. Well, so are mine, and that infernal Englishman's always ruffling them. Might as well have a statue of the Duke of Wellington in the house for all the work he does. Ethel (crossing L., sits). Now, Max, he serves tea beau- tifully, and when he's not too busy he answers the door-bell so nicely. Max. Have a seat, Simpson. Jack. Thank you. (He sits r. c. Max. sits r.) Max. You must pardon our being a bit upset, but doubtless my sister told you Ethel. Oh, yes, I told him all about your birthday and Marjorie and everything. Max. The deuce Jack. You see, at the seashore you've got to talk about something, don't you know? After the first week or so you rather wear out the moon and the wild waves and each other, so there's nothing left but your relatives. Max. I see. Ethel. And we talked a good deal about you, Max, be- cause Percy — I mean — Arthur's such an ardent admirer of yours. Jack. I say. Professor, you've no idea what a stir that novel of yours made down in Boston. Max. (thaiving a bit). Really ? Might I ask what church you are connected with, Mr. Simpson ? Jack. Why, I— I 24 LETS ALL GET MARRIED Ethel. Oh, he isn't located just now. He's expecting a call from out West. Jack. Yes, that's it ! Large congregation in Kansas City- just making up its mind. But about your book. Pro- fessor; as I was saying, the highbrows in Boston went mad over it, and at Harvard Max. Ah, you're a Harvard man ? Jack. Class of 19 — . Max. Then you must know our old friend Morris — Ben Morris ? He's a divinity man — 19 — . Jack. Ben Morris ? I should say I did. We were room- mates in our senior year. Max. Splendid chap, isn't he? Jack. Salt of the earth. {A little anxiously,) Where is he now ? Max. Big church in New York City. Jack (relieved). You don't say ? Well, I'm glad to hear that. Max, We think the world of Ben ; he's almost one of the family. Jack. Yes, so Miss Carrington said. Ethel {to Max.). Brother dear, do run up and ask Mary to get a room ready for Mr. Simpson. I've made him promise to give us the week end. Jack {risiftg). Why, really, 1 Max. (rising). Nonsense, of course you'll stay. Any friend of Ben's Jack. Of course, if you insist Max. We do, by all means. Back in a jiffy. (^Exit, R.) Ethel (crossivq to Jack). Jack, you're doing beautifully. I never saw brother take such a fancy to a stranger. Jack. That was on Morris' account. Say, there's no danger of his turning up, is there ? Ethel. Of course not. Didn't I tell you he'd just gone to New York ? Now, if we can only bluff auntie Jack. You leave auntie to me. Ethel. I thought I heard the door-bell. That's Mr. Payne back again, I guess. Jack. You must coach me up a bit on the guests for the dinner. 25 LETS ALL GET 3IARBIED Ethel. Well, there's Max and auntie and you and me {Knock heard, R.) Why doesn't Biggs go ? (She goes to c. a?id looks out. ) Jack. Probably rustling the tea. Ethel {coitiing down and clutching hint). Jack 1 Jack. What's the trouble ? Ethel. It's — it's Ben Morris ! Jack. What ? Ethel {crossing!..'). Oh, what shall I do ? Jack. But you said Ethel {back to c). Oh, what difference does it make what 1 said ? He's there on the steps in the flesh ! Jack. The deuce ! Ethel {knock heard), I've got to let him in, but I'll get rid of him. {Goes up c. ; lea7is out and beckons.) Jack {crossing r.). That'll be a nice, easy job. I reckon this is just about where brother and I clinch. Ethel {coming down l.). He's coming. Oh, why did we say that you were a Harvard man ? Jack. Just our infernal luck ! Might just as well have made it Yale. I'm not particular. {Enter Rev. Benjamin Morris, c.) Ethel {running to him). Oh, Ben, what a surprise ! Morris. Yes, isn't it ? I've been counting on it for days; wouldn't write any of you because I wanted to surprise you. Ethel. Well, you did. Let me introduce my friend, Mr. Foster. {She and Jack stare at one another in horror at her break.) Morris {beaming). Delighted. Glad to meet you ! You know, I hadn't an idea that I could get away. Jack. No, we didn't think you could get away. Morris. One of my parishioners, a rich old fellow, took it into his head that I was overworked and needed a va- cation, so I encouraged him in the idea and determined to run down for dear old Max's birthday dinner. Ethel. How ripping. Morris. Isn't it, though ? Won't he be surprised ? Jack. H'm. Won't he? 26 LETS ALL GET 3IABRIED Ethel. But why didn't you plan to drop in just in time for dinner, and give him a real sensation ? Dramatic entrance through the garden, just as the guests are about to go out to dinner ! Morris. By Jove, I never thought of that. Ethel. I thought of it the moment I saw you. That's why I brought you in this way, without anybody's see- ing you. Jack. Great idea ! Morris. What time is dinner ? Ethel. Nine o'clock. Morris. Nine? Isn't that pretty late ? Ethel. Yes ; it's an idea of brother's. Brother's so faddy nowadays. Morris. Dear old Max ! Jack. How are you going to put in the rest of the afternoon ? Morris. I might go and call on somebody. Ethel. Of course. Let's see ; why, there's Mary Jones. Morris. Mary Jones? 1 don't seem to recall her. Ethel. Oh, yes, Ben, that nice plain girl, with red hair, that you used to go and see. You surely haven't for- gotten Mary Jones ? Morris. Oh, yes, of course. Ethel. She lives right on this street, about three miles out. You can't miss it. A big frame house on the right hand side. Morris (rising). Oh ! Ethel. It'll be such a treat to Mary. She has your book of sermons, and she doesn't have many callers. Morris. Of course. I'm so glad you thought of her. Jack. Great headpiece for one so young. Ethel. Now run along, and we'll give brother the surprise of his life. Morris (going up c). Won't we, though? Dear old Max. Good-bye, Mr. Jack. Simpson. Morris (a hii puzzled). Simpson? Ethel (pushing Morris ou^ c). See you later, Ben. (Exi^ Morris, c.) Jack. Well ? Ethel. Dinner's at six-thirty, of course, and by nine you can have a headache and go to bed. 27 LETS ALL GET 3IABBIED Jack. You bet I can. Ethel. I'm going to follow him and see that he really goes to Mary Jones. {Exii, c.) {^Enter Max., r. Jack crosses l.) Max. You've quite saved the day for Aunt Laura. Jack {turning^. Eh? Max. {sitting r.). Yes. According to her, my cousin Marjorieand I did a very reckless thing in coming into the world on the thirteenth, and when she found that we were to be thirteen at dinner, she was in despair. Jack. I see. Your cousin's birthday comes on the same day as yours ? Max. Yes. She's not a cousin, really. She was my old uncle's ward ; related to us distantly, I believe. Jack. Ah. She's still abroad ? Max. She was the last time I heard from her. Jack. She must be an odd sort of girl. {Goes up L. and looks at picture,) Max. She's a very charming girl when she's in a good temper. Jack. Lots of *em are. Question is how to keep 'em in it. Max. Exactly. Jack {bringing down chair). Does she lose two hundred thousand, too, by not marrying you? Max. She does. Jack {sitting, down r.). Hold on, Professor, I'm not try- ing to butt into anybody's affairs, give you my word ; but it seems to me a rotten shame for a chap to lose a fortune like that through no fault of his. Max. {excitedly). That's the point, exactly. I don't care about Marjorie — no man who respects himself could care for a woman who's treated him as she's treated me Jack. Of course not. She's a flirt, a heartless flirt. Max. Just what I told her, and she said Jack. Yes ? Max. Well, never mind what she said, it's beside the point. The point is, why should I lose the money ? I was willing to comply with the terms of the will. 28 LET'S ALL GET MARRIED Jack. Well, why don't you comply with them? Max. I can't marry by twelve o'clock to-night a woman who's in Paris. Jack. Then marry some one else. Max, But the will Jack. I understand the will says unless you're married. It doesn't name the bride, does it? Max. No, but the old gentleman intended Jack. Never mind what the old gentleman intended ; it's what he said that goes. Max. I never thought of it that way. Jack. Of course not. That's what a chap's friends are for, to keep him from making a fool of himself. Now, I came down here to be your friend ; I'd like nothing better than to see that money in this family. Max. That's decent of you, but it can't be done. Jack. Why not? You say you've gotten over your crush on Miss Miller. Max. It was not a crush. Jack. Well, whatever you want to call it, you're through with it. Your heart is free. Max. You bet it is. Jack. That's the way to talk. Now Max. But I don't know any girls. Jack. Gosh. Living right in the midst of coeducation and he doesn't know any girls 1 Max. Except, of course, the students, and around exam- ination time my relations with them are apt to be strained. Besides, if I've got to marry, I should prefer a woman of — well, of a riper intellect. (Enter Goldie, l. ; picks up her hat and puts it on. Jack stares at her.') Goldie. Guess I'll knock off now, Professor. My dancing club meets to-night at our house, and I'd like to get home early. Max. Certainly, Miss McGrath. (^Exit Goldie, c.) Jack {stage whisper). Who's she? Max. My stenographer. Jack. She's the very one. Max. What do you mean ? 29 LETS ALL GET MARRIED Jack. She's got the ripened intellect — you can see it all over her, and she's a peach besides. Max. It's impossible, absolutely impossible. Jack. Why impossible? Here's a lovely young girl, wast- ing her youth and good looks trying to earn seven per to support the old folks at home. All she needs is a husband to take care of her. And here are you, peg- ging away at mathematics and writing novels, and all you need is a wife to bring you two hundred thousand. It's as simple as rolling off a log. Max. 1 tell you it's impossible. She murders the English language. Jack. What do you care? You don't have to hear her do it. ]\Iax. Why don't I ? Jack. Now, look here, Professor, suppose you marry her to-night, while the guests are here Max. Preposterous! I couldn't ! I jack. I said ''suppose." Max. Well ? Jack. We'll get a justice of the peace and have the cere- mony right after dinner ; then we'll all take the bride down to the depot and start her off for Reno. Nice little family party. Max. Reno ? Jack. I said Reno. She stays there six months, gets a separation, and )^ou divide the money. Max. It's very queer sounding advice from a clergyman. Jack. Clergyman? Oh, yes, 1 Well, I've always been considered rather advanced. I can't help it. Let me call her before she gels away. (Starts up c.) Max. No, I tell you I won't. I Jack. Now, don't be obstinate ! Think of your aged aunt, your helpless sister ! Don't cheat them out of their inheritance. Let me get her before she gels away. Max. No, I tell you I Jack {at c). Miss McGrath ! {Beckons.^ She heard me. She's coming back on the run. She was talking to something that looked like a college student. Max. She'll be horrified. Jack. Nonsense. Whnt is there in a simple business propo- sition to horrify a sensible person ? LErS ALL GET MARRIED Max. I don't like it. Jack. Brace up, I'll tell her. You needn't say a word. {Crosses L.) {Enter G oldie, c.) GOLDIE. Did you call me, Professor ? Jack (l., importantly). No, I called you. GoLDlE {eyeing him coolly). Oh ! Max. Miss McGraih, this is the Reverend Mr. Simpson, a~a friend of mine. GoLDiE. Pleased to know you. Jack. The pleasure is mine. Won't you sit down a min- ute ? We — we (GoLDiE sits, R. c.) Max. [down r.). If she's in a hurry, we ought not to de- tain her. Jack. She's not in a hurry, and we have a very interesting proposition to make to her. Miss McGrath Max. Miss Goldie, if you don't mind, I'll go and finish some notes I'm making for — — Jack. No, you won't. You sit down, too. (Max. sits. Goldie looks from one to the other in a?nazement.) To begin with, the Professor wants to get married. Goldie. What ? Jack. Plold on; I didn't mean that. I mean he's got to get married before twelve o'clock to-night or lose two hundred thousand dollars. Goldie. Oh, I know that. I think it's real romantic. Max. It's infernally inconvenient. Jack {to Max.). Hold on ; let me do this. {To Goldie.) You see, he hates to give up his freedom. There's no place in his scheme of things for a wife. Goldie. Oh ! Max. {firmly). None whatever. Jack. But he needs the money. Now, if he could find a businesslike young lady who would be willing to marry him, with the understanding that she is at perfect lib- erty to apply for a separation immediately after the ceremony, he is ready and willing to divide the profits — I mean — the inheritance with her. Do you see? 31 LETS ALL GET MARRIED Max. (rising). Of course she does, and she's indignant — she has a perfect right to be. Any woman would be furious. GoLDiE. I'd never be furious at you; I'm used to your doing loony things. Is he literary, too ? {Points to Jack.) Jack. This is no joke, it's a serious affair. Do you or do you not GoLDiE. Hold on a minute. {To Max.) What would your aunt say ? Max. {stepping toward her). What the dickens has my aunt to do with it ? GoLDiE. I'm afraid 1 can't. My club Jack {rising). I'll explain to the club; I'll invite 'em all to the wedding. The question is, will you or won't you allow us to make you a present of one hundred thousand dollars ? GoLDiE {hypnotized). One hundred thousand dollars 1 {Throivs herself into Max.'s arms.) Oh, how good you are to me ! {To Max.'s horror she bursts into tears. Jack pats her on the shoulder patronizingly.) Max. Here, don't — please don't — I GoLDiE {clinging to him). I'll be such a good little wife to you J.\CK. Of course you will. {Enter Ethel and Payne, r. ; Miss P., l., ««^ Biggs, r. Biggs carry i?ig tea tray.) Max. Good Heavens ! Miss P. ) ^;r , Ethel. | ^^^ ' Biggs. Tea is served ! Payne {puttitig on his eye-glasses). Upon my soul ! (Max. and Goldie down r. Biggs stajids stock still up c.) Jack {down l.). Hullo, you're just in time to wish them good luck. Let me announce the engagement of Pro- fessor Carrington and Miss McGrath. Miss P. {aghast). Miss McGrath ? -52 LET'S ALL GET MARRIED GoLDiE. Yes. Ain't it exciting? Miss P. {coming doivn l., assisted by Jack, sits on coucJi). Will somebody please get me a glass of water ? (Biggs /w/j tray on table down r., and exits r., shaking his head.) Ethel (down r., back of table). Engagement? Max. (crossly). Yes, engagement. Can't you hear ? Ethel. Brotlier, what does this mean ? Max. (going tip r. to Payne). It means that I'm going to be married to-night after dinner, and let me see any- body hand a cent of that money to the Old Ladies' Home ; d'you hear ? {He shakes his fist at Payne.) Payne. Bless me, how extraordinary ! (T/iey talk.) Jack. Providential. (7<7 Ethel.) Do get busy with the tea. (Ethel sits at the table , r., and poicrs tea. Jack serves it for her. BiGGS enters with Miss V.'''s, glass of water and hands it to her.) Sit down, Miss Mc- Grath, and let me get you some tea. Mr. Payne, make yourself at home. (Max. and Payne move to c, still talking.) GoLDiE {sitting in armchair down r.). Thanks. Lemon and no sugar, please. Ethel (as she hands Jack the cups). Jack, I don't under- stand. Jack. Nobody ever understands an engagement. Max. (to Payne). Now you understand the matter. You will attend to the settlement of that will ? Payne. Certainly. I congratulate you, my dear boy ; I assure you it pained me acutely to think of the legacy's going to the Old Ladies. As for the young lady Max. {savagely). Never mind the young lady I Do you understand about the money ? (They continue to talk in dumb show.) Jack (seating himself beside Miss P.). I say, these are handsome spoons. Heirlooms, I suppose ? Miss P. (in alarm). Yes, Pll take it out of your way; they're so troublesome. (Seizes his spoon and passes 2>Z LETS ALL GET MARRIED it over he?- shoulder io Biggs, who goes out R. with iiy much to Jack's amazement.) Of course one must get used to surprises with a literary person in the family, but GoLDiE. Wasn't he deep ? Believe me, I never suspected a thing till he said, <*Miss Goldie " Jack i^junipiug up). The only thing that remains is for me to 'phone for a license and look up a J. P. Miss P. A J. P. ? GoLDiE. But why can't you marry us? Jack. 1? Why, I— I Max. Just the thing. No use telling everybody in town what we're going to do. Jack. No, 1 can't. I'm sorry, but 1 — I — I don't believe in marriage. Miss P. You don't believe in marriage ! Ethel {crossing to Miss P., l.). He mustn't — really — he Goldie. It would be so much more beautiful than having a justice of the peace. Jack. No, it wouldn't — you're mistaken. Besides, I wouldn't marry a couple on Friday the 13th if you were to give me a house and lot. Wouldn't have it on my conscience. {Rises, takes his cup and Miss P.'s /^ the tray.') Max. You didn't talk so much about your conscience a few minutes ago. Jack. You didn't give me a chance. It was ^' Goldie this " and *' Goldie that." Who am I to come between two loving hearts? Goldie {^iz^ling). Ain't he the cutest kid ? Max. Bah ! Jack. I'll go and 'phone the license office before it closes, and tell 'em to keep open till you can get down there. {Exit, l.) Miss P. That's a very danj^^erous young man. Goldie. I think he's swell ! {Holds out her cup.) Max, dear Max. {coming down to her and taking cup). I — I guess Pd better go and see that he doesn't ball things up ! {^Exit after Jack, l.) 34 LET'S ALL GET 3IARBIED , !• {doivn L.). Marjorie ! Payne {co77iing down to Goldie, who rises'). It is very difficult to adjust one's mind to the speed with wliich the present generation manages things, but 1 congratu- late you, my dear, very heartily. Goldie. Thanks. I hope I shan't regret it Miss P. Regret it ? Goldie {going up c). Yes, marry in haste, you know — goodness, there's a taxi out there with a trunk on it. Miss P. A taxi ? {£?iier Biggs, r.) Biggs. Miss Miller. Ethel Miss P. {Enter Marjorie Miller, r., in high spirits. She runs in excitedly.) Marjorie. Hullo, everybody ! Oh, Pm so glad to be back ! Auntie, dear, how good it is to see you again ! Ethel, why, how preity you've grown ! And dear old Mr. Payne ! Pm home to stay — isn't it great ? {She sees Goldie, who lias come down r.) I don't know who you are, but Pm awfully glad to see you, anyhow. Goldie. Pleased to know you. Marjorie. But why don't some of you say something? Aren't you glad to see me ? Ethel. Of course we are, only it's — it's so sudden. Marjorie. Didn't you get my letter? Miss P. Your letter? Marjorie. I wrote Max and told him — where is Max? (Conster?iation on the part of all except Goldie.) Payne. He — why, he's telephoning. He'll be in directly. Goldie. Do sit down and have some tea. Miss P. And let me introduce Miss McGrath, Max's {She pauses abruptly as Ethel signals frantically to her.) {Enter Jack, i.., followed by Max., 7vho stops suddenly as he sees Marjorie.) Jack. It's all right. The minute I told 'em that Professor Carrington wanted a marriage license they said they'd keep open all night if necessary. 35 LETS ALL GET MARRIED Marjorie (in surprise). A marriage license ? Max. Marjorie ! Miss P. I was just going to tell you that Max and Miss McGrath are going to be married this evening. Marjorie (dazed). Max ! Married ! GoLDiE. And we're so glad you're here for the wedding. She says she wrote you, Max dear Marjorie. Biggs ! Biggs (^jumping). Yes, Miss. Marjorie. 'Phone for another taxi. Biggs {crossing r.). Yes, Miss. (Marjorie goes up r.) Jack. Miss Miller Max. Marjorie Marjorie (savagely). Don't speak to me. (Exitf R., after Biggs. Max. gives a groan and rushes off^ c. ; the other three stare at each other ; Goldie runs after Max.) Goldie. Ain't he the limit ? (Exit, c, after Max. Miss P. sinks into a couch.^ Miss P. Friday, the 13th ! I knew something would happen 1 Payne. Pm afraid Pd better be moving along if dinner is to be at 6 : 30. I — I hope matters will smooth over. (Exit, r.) Ethel. Smooth over ! (To Jack.) Jack. A very cozy little dinner we're going to have. Miss P. Mr. Simpson ! Ethel. Pd better take you up and show yon your room. You'll want to dress. (Starts ■L.,follozued by Jack.) I think you and brother must be mad. Jack. We've got to put that wedding off till the Rev. Mor- ris turns up or get a J. P. I tell you I'm not going to be a clergyman if things are going to happen like this. (Exeunt both, L.) (Enter Biggs, r.) Biggs. She's goin' as soon as the taxi comes. 36 LETS ALL GET MARRIED Miss P. Oh, dear. Biggs (mysteriously, as he crosses to c). Where is 'e ? Miss P. Gone to his room. Oh, Biggs, you don't tliink Biggs. I'm as sure that *e's Slick joe the Parson as 1 ham that this is my 'and. The minute I see him sliding hout of that door, 1 says to myself, *' That's 'im." (Enter Marjorie, r.) Marjorie (/(? Biggs). Have you sent for that taxi? BiGGS. Hi was just habout to do so, Miss. (Exit Biggs, l., with tea tray and tea things.) Miss P. Marjorie, you're not going to leave us again ? Marjorie (coming down c). Yes, i am, but I'd like that letter of mine before 1 go. Miss P. Letter ? Marjorie. The one I wrote Max. Miss P. (wildly'). My dear, it never came; or if it did, Max never opened it. You know how careless he is with mail. There are the letters that came this morn- ing on the floor. I must go and see that Ethel puts that man in the right room ! (Exit, L.) QAa.v,}0\\ie. pounces on the letters and picks one vp.) Marjorie (downu). My letter! Unopened! {Shakes her fist at the absent Max.) Oh, I'll get even with you for this ! Anyway, that stenographer person shan't read it ! (Tucks it into her bag angrily!) (Enter Morris, c. Takes her for Ethel.) Morris. I forgot whether you said the left hand side, or the (She turns.) Good gracious, Marjorie ! (Comes down.) Marjorie. Well, where did you come from ? Morris. Dropped in to surprise Max, and Ethel per- suaded me to run out for a call on Mary Jones before dinner. Remember Mary Jones ? Marjorie (sulkily). No. 37 LETS ALL GET MARRIED Morris. Nice girl (sitlhig), but plain, very. Nobody is to know that I'm here, see? Don't breathe a word to Max. Marjorie. 1 shall never speak to Max again as long as I live — never. Morris. Why, Marjorie ! Marjokie. Ben, I've been brutally treated in this house — brutally. I'll never speak to any of them again — never. Morris. {dotu?i ^.^. My dear girl! Marjorie [crossing to hiui). Here I came all the way from Paris, traveling like mad, just to get here in time for the birthday, ready to forgive him everything and — and marry him, and I find him engaged to a typewriting girl ! Morris. Engaged? Max? Impossible. Marjorie. Didn't I see the girl ? Horrid yellow haired thing ! 1 didn't think Max could be so mercenary. Morris. My dear Marjorie, he couldn't be. Depend upon it, he really loves the girl or he wouldn't be engaged to her. Marjorie {wildly). What business has he to love her when he's engaged to me ? Morris. But I thought you broke the engagement? Marjorie. Oh, what's that got to do with it? But I'll get even with him. Morris. My dear girl, that's a very unchristian spirit. Marjorie. I don't care if it is. Do you suppose I'm going to be the only Christian in this family? Morris. If you'd only try to conquer that diabolical tern. per of yours Marjorie. I did try. I wrote Max the meekest letter that I ever wrote in my life, and this is what I get for it. Morris. But you wouldn't deliberately make two young people unhappy, my dear ? Marjorie. Yes, I would, if I only knew how to do it. When I think of her taking Max away from me, and all that money, too, I — I — oh {Throws herself into chair.) Morris {rising, pats her shoulder). Now, now, now ; what's money, anyhow? 38 LETS ALL GET MARRIED Makjorie. And it's not my fault, either. I'm ready to get married, and I will, too. Morris. Now, Marjorie, look out. You're getdng reckless. Makjokie. Look here, Ben. Could you forge a weddm^^ certificate ? ^ Morris. Could I what ? Marjorie. No, of course you couldn't. I'll have to man- age without it. You run along and see Mary Jones, and I'll show these people a thing or two. Morris. I can't leave you like this. Remember, fraud is a very dangerous thing. Marjorie. Well, what do you call what they've done? Cheating me out of the money that my poor old guardian wanted me to have ? Morris. But if they love each other Marjorie. Oh, I wish you'd stop talking about their lov- ing each other ! You're positively mushy. Morris {gom^ up c). Very well, I wash my hands of you, Marjorie. Marjorie. 1 wish you would go— that face of yours would give anything away ! Morris. Under the circumstances, I don't like to go. Marjorie (^going up c. to him). I promise you 1 won't do anything really dreadful. Morris. That's just it. You have such queer ideas of what is really dreadful. {Starts.) Hullo! I hear somebody. I must go. 1 want to surprise Max. Mind, now, don't tell him I'm here. Marjorie. There they come Morris {bolting out at c). Now, Marjorie, do be care- ful {Exit.) Marjorie {coming down). Careful ! Oh, yes, I'll be careful ! {Enter Biggs, l.) Biggs. The taxi will be 'ere in ten minutes, Miss. Marjorie. 1 don't want it. I've decided to stay. {Exit, r.) Biggs. Very well. Miss. {Exit, L.) 39 LETS ALL GET MARRIED (^Enter Max., wildly, at c. Goes to doory l., and bawls. ^ Max. Simpson, come here ! (^Enter Ethel, r. Max. comes down R. , followed by Ethel.) Ethel. Max, what are we going to do with Marjorie ? I met her in the hall just now and she's going to stay. (^Enter Jack, l., and comes down r.) Max. How do I know? You'd better ask your friend, Mr. Simpson. Jack. Did somebody call me ? Max. (laildly). Yes, I called you. You've got to get me out of this mess. D'you hear ? Jack. Nothing doing. 1 never meddle in other people's love affairs. Max. I tell you you've got to. Miss McGrath's gone home to clress for the wedding, and when she conies back you've got to tell her that it's all oif. D'you hear? 'Ktuei. (crossing to ]kCK,u'). But, Max, you can't. She's liable to sue you for breach of promise. Jack (down l.). She's not liable to, she's dead sure to, and she's got a darned good case. Max. (intensely, to Jack). Look here. I can't marry that girl. Can't you understand? It's Marjorie I want; Marjorie, and (^Enter Marjorie, r. She has taken off her wraps. She comes down c.) Marjorie (sweetly^. Max, I'm sorry I lost my temper so badly. You'll forgive me, won't you ? Max. (down r., amazed, but pleased). Marjorie, I — I ErHEL (to Jack). Whew ! Marjorie. I think it must have been because I was so anxious to tell you my wonderful news, and you took the wind all out of my sails. Max. Your news ? Marjorie. Yes. I want you all to congratulate me. Six months ago, in England, I — I was married. (They stare at her in horror as the curtain falls.) curtain 40 ACT II SCENE. — The same as Act I. Time, about an hour later. Lights are on a?id curtains drawn. Typewriter and stand have been re?noved. (Biggs is discovered ushering in Payne, r.) Payne. I'm the first arrival, I suppose? Biggs. Yes, sir. Payne. That's good. I want a chance to speak to the Professor before the rest come. Biggs. The Professor isn't 'ere, sir. Payne. Isn't here ? Biggs. 'E and the Rev. Mr. Simpson went hout on busi- ness connected with the license, sir, and they 'aven't yet returned. Payne. Of course, of course ! And the ladies ? Biggs. The ladies are dressing, sir. If you'd like to step into the smoking-room Payne. Why, yes, i (^Enter Miss P., r., excitedly.) Miss P. Mr. Payne, I must speak to you before the others come down ! Have the gentlemen returned. Biggs ? (Miss P. comes down i..^ followed by Payne.) Biggs. No, Miss. Miss P. {trao^ically'). And it's six o'clock ! Oh, how many more dreadful things are going to happen to us to-night ! Biggs {pessimistically). Hi don't know, Miss, but I should say hit was hup to us to be very careful. Miss P. Yes, indeed. You may bring me all the silver that isn't being used. Biggs, and I'll find a hiding-place for it. Biggs. Very well. Miss. {Exit, L.) (Miss P. and Payne sit on couch, down l.) 41 LETS ALL GET MARRiED Payne. You're not anticipating a robbery, I hope? Miss P. Yes, 1 am, among other things ! Payne. But my dear lady, I thought everything was mov- ing so smoothly. Here's Max engaged to a splendid girl Miss P. Splendid nothing ! She's a designing little minx who's had her eye on Max ever since she heard about that will. Now that he's so upset about Marjorie's being married, he'll go through with it just for spite. Payne. Marjorie married ! Miss P. Yes, married. In England, six months ago. She told Max and Ethel an hour ago, in this room. Payne. But, madam — this is serious — this affects the will. Miss P. Of course it affects the will. That's what she did it for. Payne. If only you would calm yourself and give me the facts Miss P. I don't know the facts. She's shut herself in her room and refuses to speak. Payne. She'll speak to me, or Pll know the reason why. Tell her that I wish an interview with her before din- ner, and that Pll wait for her in the smoking-room. Miss P. It's of no use ! You don't know Marjorie as I do. I brought her up. Payne {snappishly). My dear friend, if that's your idea of bringing up a young woman, it was a beneficent Providence that provided you with a career of single blessedness. Miss P. Mr. Payne ! {Eftter Biggs, l., with the silver in a basket.) Biggs. The silver, Miss. Miss P. Put it down. Pll attend to it later. (Biggs puts it down and exits R.) You must help me stop this wedding. That girl and Max will never be happy to- gether. If she must marry somebody, why not Dick Havens? He's got a lot of money, and he's perfectly silly over her. At any rate, she slian't have Max ! Payne. But my dear lady, she's got Max. What are you going to do about it ? Miss P. You must talk her out of it. Payne. Did you ever try to talk a woman out of a hundred thousand dollars ? 42 LETS ALL GET MARRIED Miss P. She's an impossible person ; talks slang, powders and paints her face ; there's no knowing what else she does. Payne. She looks to me like a very nice girl. Miss P. When a man gets to your age, they all look like very nice girls. Payne. Well, at any rate, Max has asked her to marry him, so I guess it's too late to interfere. Miss P. Well, if a clever lawyer like you can't argue a mere child like that out of a thing, 1 don't think much of the law 1 {^E titer GoLDiE, c.) GoLDiE. Oh, am I early, after all? Hasn't the Professor — Max — come back yet? Miss P. No. GoLDiE {coming down R.). I suppose PU have an awful time getting him to be punctual to meals. Miss P. In this household meals are subject to the con- venience of the head of the house. GoLDiE {to Payne). Ain't that a dreadful way to spoil a man? How do you like my dress? Payne. Very attractive, indeed, very. Miss P. Pll go up now and speak to Marjorie. And you {Makes signs toward Goi.the, who is taking off her wrap.) {Exit, K.) GoLDiE {sitting R.). I got it for the dancing club, but I thought 1 might as well wear it to-night. Payne {sitting r.). Very charming, I'm sure. We — were just — ahem — discussing your — ahem — marriage before you came in. Goldie. ril bet she was knocking me. Payne. Knocking you? My dear young lady Goldie. She's got a grouch on me as long as the twenty- first of June. Payne. You misjudge her. The suddenness of the affair Goldie {poutifig). Now, listen ; it's not my fault that his uncle made that silly old will. Payne. Of course not. She is only wondering whether you and Max are quite suited to one another. 43 LETS ALL GET MARRIED GoLDiE. Humph ! Payne. Your tastes, now, are so different. GoLDiE. Are they ? Payne. Aren't they ? Max with his books, you know, and you with your dancing club. GOLDIE. Then why doesn't she come out fair and square and say so, instead of nagging you on to worry me ? Payne. Nagging me on ? GOLDiE. Of course. You're not the sort to come around faultfinding and making a girl unhappy just before she's going to be m-married ! Payne. 1 — 1 hope not. Goldie. As for the dancing — why, everybody's doing it nowadays. Payne. I don't. Goldie. But you could — ^just as easy. I could teach you in ten minutes. Payne. I hardly think I Goldie (rising). Come on, let me show you. Payne. Really, I'm afraid I'm too old, my dear. Goldie [pulling him to his feet). Old? And me sayin* only yesterday to Biggs, how well Mr. Payne keeps his looks I Payne. I — I'm afraid you're flattering me. Goldie (jlrmvin^ him doian c). Nothing doing. You just ask Biggs. See, you begin this way (She takes a few steps.) Payne. Really, I Goldie. And then you (She illustrates, singing the tune. He tries to imitate her ; she takes his arm.) That's it. Payne. Bless me, how extraordinary ! Goldie. That's great ! I'll teach you the hesitation some day. Limber up ! (Enter Ethel, r. She conies down R.) Ethel (in astonishme?it). Well, Mr. Payne I (Payne and Goldie stop suddenly.) Payne. Dear me ! We — we Goldie. Good-evenin'. I was just showin* him a new step we're learning in our club. See you at dinner. 44 LETS ALL GET MARRIED {Runs off, L.) Ethel. Humph ! Payne {gohig up c). Exactly. Will you kindly tell Mar- jorie thai I'm waiting for her in the smoking-room ? {Dances painstakingly, goes L. — stops suddenly.) Bless me ! (^Exit, L., solemnly.') Ethel. Well, of all things ! {Enter Miss P., R.) Miss P. {coming down l.). Where's Mr. Payne gone? Ethel. Smoking-room. Auntie, he — he never takes any- thing, does he ? Miss P. Takes anything ? Ethel. He was behaving so strangely just now. I Miss P. He's bothered about Marjorie. As a lawyer, he has to get the particulars of this queer marriage of hers. Ethel. Well, I hope he gets 'em, but I have my doubts. Miss P. I mean to see that he gets them. In the mean- time, I want a word with you, Ethel. Ethel. Yes, auntie. {Crosses l. to Miss P. They sit on couch.) Miss P. My dear child, I hope matters have not progressed very far between you and this Simpson man. Ethel. Why, I — I'm very much interested in him. Miss P. Oh, dear, I was afraid of it. That's the way they always begin. Nip it in the bud, child ; don't allow yourself to grow fond of him. Ethel. But why not? He's such a good young man. Miss P. Good ? Ethel. And you and Max are so fond of clergymen. Miss P. {mysteriously'). I have reason to suspect that he is not a clergyman at all. Ethel {startled). Auntie ! Miss P. Also that he is a very dangerous character, Ethel. But I'll tell you I know all about Arthur. Miss P. My poor child ! You don't know his hidden wickedness ! Ethel. Auntie ! Miss P. You don't even know his name. Ethel. Yes, I do; it's — it's Simpson. 45 LETS ALL GET 3IARBIED Miss P. I thought so. Ethel. Well, what is it then ? Miss P. It (She pauses as Max. and Jack ente?- c.) No, i can't tell you — 1 can't ! {She goes up i.., followed by Ethel.) Max. I said after dinner and I meant after dinner. Here's the bride and here are you. What more do you want ? (Max. and Jack come down c.) Miss P. {up L., to Ethel). Keep away from that man ! {Exii Miss P., L. YjTYl^i. follows.) Jack. But I can't marry you without a license. Max. I'm going down to get the license as soon as this confounded dinner is over. Jack. I tell you 1 won't do it. I Ethel {reentering L.). Max, you must speak to Marjorie and make her come down to dinner. She Max. I don't care whether she comes down to dinner or not. Jack. I hope she won't. We've had nothing but trouble since she came. Ethel. But she must come to the wedding. Max. She'll come to the wedding, all right. She'll come to gloat over what she's done. {Sinks into a chair ^ r.) Ethel {patting his head). Brother ! Max. Married ! Six months after our engagement was broken ! And yet they say women are the faithful sex ! Jack. Who says so ? Ethel. And you know, dear, she might say the same thing about you. Max. {jumping up). It's a lie ! I never thought about getting married till he put it into my head. Jack. Oh, of course. 1 notice that Miss Goldie didn't seem much surprised. Ethel. Then why don't you break it off? Max. And have Marjorie think that 1 did it just because she came home ? I'd marry twenty typewriters first ! {Enter BiGGS, R.) Biggs. Mr. Dick Havens. 46 LETS ALL GET MARRIED (E?iier Dick, k., tnuch embarrassed.) ( Exit Biggs, l. ) Ethel. Oh, good-evening. Dick {comifig down l.). Good-evening. Good-evening, Professor. Max. {shortly). Good-evening. Dick. 1 say, is— is it true? Max. Is what true ? Dick {niuch embarrassed, but determined). I heard — that is, somebody said — that you and Miss Goldie were going to be married this evening, and 1 Max. {furiously). How the deuce did Ethel. Brother ! Dick. Then it — it is true ? Jack. Yes, my young friend, it is. Why not ? Dick. Why, you see, 1 thought M.KY.. {savagely). What business have you to think ? Don't you know that half the trouble in the world comes from people trying to think when they haven't the necessary equipment? Don't you know Ethel. Max ! Dick. Yes, yes, of course, but I thought Max. You Ethel. Brother ! Dick. I thought I'd like to give her my — my best wishes. And I thought Max. Thanks ! Dick (mapping his forehead). You're quite welcome. It's — it's a warm evening, isn't it? Ethel. Yes, isn't it ! Dick. I guess I'd better be going. Good -evening. Pro- fessor. Max. Good-evening. Dick. You see, 1 thought (Max. moves toward him threateningly, and Dick escapes, k.) Max. All over town in an hour ! {He rushes out into the garden, c, his hands to his head.) Jack. That's the way he's been carrying on ever since she sprung that bluff on him about being married. 47 LETS ALL GET MARRIED Ethel {down l., sits o?i couch). Bluff? But you don't think Jack. Oh, I dare say she's married all right, but where's the man ? Ethel. 1 suppose she's quarreled with him. Marjorie always quarrels with men. Jack. Well, she's got it in for the Professor all right. Isn't that just like a woman ? She can marry any time she feels like it, but let a chap that she's turned down try it on once and it's ** bring me the dagger." Ethel. Of course. Jack (r.). Now, look here; I want it understood I'm not going to perform any wedding ceremony. Ethel. Of course not. Jack. There's no of course about it. They've both got their minds set on it, and I'm just that accommo- dating Ethel. But, Jack, you Jack. I tell you, it's a state's prison offense — I don't know but that they could hang me for it. I'm not going to get myself hung just to please your brother's typewriter. Ethel. You shan't be hung, darling. I won't have it. Jack. That aunt of yours is acting mighty queer, too. Ethel. I'm afraid she suspects something. Jack. She's been warning me against you. Jack. Against me? {Crosses to her.) Ethel. Yes. Jack. What does she suspect ? Ethel. I don't know. But she — she doesn't think you're good company for me. Jack. I think it's the other way round. I haven't done a thing but mangle the truth ever since we've been engaged. Ethel. We're not engaged. {Enter Marjorie, r.) Jack {seating himself beside Ethel). Look here, Ethel. Marjorie {cotning dozvn r.). 1 beg pardon, but Aunt Laura said that Mr. Payne wanted to see me. {They both Jump up.) Ethel. He does. He's in the smoking-room. Let me introduce my friend, Mr. Simpson, my Why, I don't know your name, do 1 ? 4S LETS ALL GET MARRIED Marjorie (calmly). Miller. Wasn't it odd that I should marry a man of the same name as my own ? Jack. Deuced odd. Glad to meet you, Mrs Miller. (Marjorie eyes him suspiciously as they shake hands. "y Ethel. Doesn't it sound funny? Marjorie. Oh, I've grown quite used to it. {Enter Max., i.., followed by Payne.) Max, I tell you I don't want to discuss it ! Can't a man get married without the whole town's badgering him about it ? {Stops at sight of Marjorie.) Oh, good- evening ! Marjorie {lioivn r.). Good -evening. Payne (c). Marjorie, what's this they're saying about you? Married to a confounded foreigner, and not a word to the family about it? Tut — tut, I'm surprised at you. Marjorie. Well, you see Ethel. His name's Miller, too. Isn't it funny? Max. Very. Payne. But where is he ? You didn't come home without him, surely? Marjorie [with difficulty). Well, you see, he went away just after we were married. Payne. Went away ? Marjorie. Yes, on an exploring expedition. To hunt for one of the poles — no, I don't mean the poles, I mean the equator. I've got such a bad memory. But it's one of those things that you can't see when you're stand- ing right on it. Ethel. Well, I think that's a queer kind of wedding trip. Marjorie. Yes, isn't it? But Englishmen are so adven- turous. Max. (c). Why didn't you go with him? Marjorie [coldly). Because I had to come home and claim my share of your uncle's legacy. (Max. collapses into chair, r. c.) Jack. What sort of a looking chap is Mr. Miller? Marjorie (innocently). Why — I — he — only saw him such a short time. He's not a handsome man at all. Some- thing on your style. 49 LETS ALL GET MARRIED Jack, Oh ! Makjorie. I — I don't like to talk about him very much. It makes me feel so blue. Those expeditions are so full of perils. Max. Especially the equator. People seldom come back from the equator whole. Ethel. Max ! Marjorie. Still, I love his bravery. Payne (still standing, c). I understand, my dear, but in law, you know, we must have something solid to go upon. Now, of course you brought your wedding certificate with you ? Marjorie. Why — I — I guess so. Probably I have it in one of my trunks. Payne. But that's immaterial ; we can easily send to the church where you were married and get a copy. ' Marjorie. Yes, of course. Ethkl. How old is he? Marjorie. Oh, about twenty-eight or nine. Payne {taking out a memorandufn book). His name in full ? Marjorie. A. B. Miller. Abraham. I — I don't know what the B stands for. Ethel. Abraham ? Payne (jvriting). Of what county? Marjorie. London. I — I — think — — Payne. London, England. Of course you have an ad- dress that will reach him ? Jack. Oh, of course. Just Miller, somewhere around the equator, would reach him. Marjorie. What are you going to do? Write to him? Payne. I intend to send him a copy of the will at once. Marjorie. No, don't ! He wouldn't be interested. He doesn't care a thing in the world for money. Max. He must be a darned fool ! Ethel. Max ! Payne. And his parents* names ? Marjorie. I don't know. T — oh — T don't want to talk about Abie ! Pm so afraid he won't come back ! I — I_oh (She bursts into tears and runs out of the room, L.) Ethel. You poor dear ! {Runs after her.) 50 LET'S ALL GET MARRIED Max. Abie ! Payne. Marjorie always had a tender heart. Jack. A tender conscience would help things a whole lot ! Max. She's been imposed upon by some mercenary wretch who's heard about uncle's money and played upon her feelings. Something's got to be done. Payne {soothi7igly). Now, my boy, calm yourself. Re- member Max. {wildly). I don't want to remember. I want to forget. Jack {wickedly). They're probably as happy together as two turdedoves. Max. Turtledoves be Payne. At any rate, remember that the poor girl has had a long, hard trip, and that we mustn't worry her Max. Worry her? I tell you I'll find out who and what that man is if I have to go to the equator and yank him off of it ! (^Rushes off, l.) Payne {following). Oh, what a trying thing tempera- ment is ! {Exit after Max., l.) Jack {glaring after them). I guess you'll think so if you stay very long in this house. Of all the fancy gilt- edged liars that girl {Sees silver.) Hello, what's this doing here? {Picks it up.) More family heir- looms. {Examines silver.) Infernally careless of Biggs to leave it lying round like this. Anybody could come in through those windows and carry it oif as easy as pie. I'll lock it up. (^Enter Goldie, l. ; stares at him in fascination as he goes up c, silver under his arm.) Goldie [firmly). You drop that ! Jack. What? Goldie {up c). Drop it, I say. I'm on to your game. Jack {stupefied). On to my game ? Goldie. Yes. Biggs has told me who you are. Jack. Who I am ? Goldie. Yes, and I ain't afraid of you, Mr. Slick Joe the Parson. Jack {stepping toward her). I say, are you crazy ? 51 LETS ALL GET MARRIED GoLDiE {backing). Don't you come near me. I'll yell if you do. Jack. Say, you haven't been sampling the cocktails, have you ? GoLDiE. Don't you get fresh with me. You drop that sil- ver and get out. Jack {starting toward her). Now, look here {She screams wildly ; he drops the silver ; Goldie grabs for it. He stoops to help her.) Goldie. Don't you touch me, you big brute I Get out or I'll call the police ! Jack. The police ! {Efiter Miss P. ^«^ Biggs, l.) GohDiE (grabbing Jack* s le/t arm). Here he is. I caught him with the goods. Miss P. Oh ! (Biggs seizes Jack's right arm. Biggs, Jack and Goldie struggling, tnove down c, followed by Miss P.) Biggs. That'll do, me man ; we've got you. Jack. What do you mean by this ? Here, quit it. Miss P. Don't let him go. Max ! Max ! Goldie. Ain't he the wretch? I found him trying to get out through the garden, and I says to him (Enter Max., h., followed by Payne.) Jack (freeing himself from Biggs, 7vho falls back, R.). Quit it, d'you hear? What's the matter with you all? Are you out of your heads ? (Goldie secures the silver and stands down R.) Miss P. (down l.). Max, be careful — he's desperate. Max. (grabbing Jack, c). What's the matter here, any- way ? Jack. Matter? Your man's been trying to pinch me for getting away with the silver. Max. Getting away with the silver? Biggs. He's Slick Joe the Parson, sir. 'E was *ere this morning lookin' round, and now 'e's come back for the swag. 52 LETS ALL GET MARRIED GOLDIE. And I caught him getting it, Payne (up i..). Bless me ! Max. Slick Joe the Parson ? (^Eiiter Ethel and Marjorie, l.) Marjorie {coming down, l.). Did somebody scream? Jack. Did somebody scream ! Ethel {coming doivn to Jack's right side). Oh ! Max. What does this mean ? Look here, Simpson Jack. I don't know what it means. If you will have a lunatic for a butler Miss P. Don't listen to him, Max; he's not a clergyman, and his name isn't Simpson. GOLDiE. He's Slick Joe. That's the way he gets the lay of things ; pretending to be a minister. It's all in the morning paper. Jack. Now, look here, Professor, Pm not a crook, and I don't want your silver. I was Biggs. Then why was you trying to get hout of the win- dow with it? Jack. I wasn't trying to get " hout " of the window with it ! Max, Will you let me speak ? Biggs, what authority have you for suspecting a friend of the Rev. Mr. Morris of trying to steal our silver ? Biggs. Sir ? Miss P. The morning paper says Max. Aunt Laura Payne {behind couch, l.). What makes you think he's a friend of Ben Morris ? Max. Why — he — he — said so. {Groan from 'Biggs.') Ethel. He is, too ; he Marjorie. He doesn't strike me as being the least like a clergyman. Goldie. If he's a clergyman, why wouldn't he marry Max and me? Ethel. He couldn't ; he Jack. Pm not a clergyman, and Pm not a burglar, Pm Ethel. Oh ! Max. You're not a clergyman ? Goldie. Ain't it fierce? On my wedding day, too. 53 LETS ALL GET MARRIED Marjorie. Perhaps you'll have the goodness, if it's not asking too much, to tell us who you are ? Jack {eyeing her coolly). Certainly. 1 haven't the slightest .. objection to telling if you haven't. 1 Ethel. No, I — I can't stand it. Max. Well, who are you ? Jack {modestly). I hate to make such a fuss about it. It's really not my fault. I — well, you might as well know ^I'm Mr. Miller. (Ethel gives a piercing scream and runs off, R.) Miss P. My poor girl ! {She follows Ethel out r. Marjorie takes a step toward Jack, as though to strike him, then stops, breathes hard J and stares angrily at him.) Max. Mr. Miller ? You ? Jack. Of course. You didn't think I was going to let my wife come all the way over here alone, did you ? Max {dazed). Your wife ? Payne. But — but — the equator ! Jack. Oh, she didn't want to spring me on you too sud- denly, that's all. We wanted to give you time to get used to the idea. Didn't we — Margy? (^Goes to her, down l. Max. walks furiously tip "S.., fol- lowed by Payne.) Goldie. Well, anyhow, the silver will be safer in the dining-room ! ( Exit, L. , followed by BiGGS.) Marjorie (/// a fierce aside to Jack). You just prove that you're Mr. Miller ! Jack. Well, you just prove that I'm not. Marjorie. Oh! {Turns away angrily.) Max. How dared you tell me that your name was Simpson ? Jack. Oh, your sister and I planned that. You see, Mar- jorie wanted to make her announcement before she introduced me. (Payne tries to soothe Max.) Have I spoiled things by telling them, pet ? Marjorie {divided between fury and fear). Yes, you have. 54 LETS ALL GET 3IABBIED Jack. It's just these little things that keep married life going smoothly. Remember that, Professor. Max. Bah ! Payne. I'd like a chat with you, Mr. Miller, when you have leisure, about the Jack. Any time, my dear fellow, any time. Marjorie's said to me a dozen times, '< I'm so anxious to have you meet my dear friend Mr. Payne, Abie," Haven't you, dear? Marjorie. I — I (^Goes t/p angrily.) {Enter Miss P., r.) Miss P. I can't do a thing with Ethel. I think she's got hysterics. Jack. I'll fix her. I'm a wiz at soothing hysterics. Miss P. Sir! Jack. Ma'am? Max. Stay where you are. Jack. Of course, if you want Ethel to have hysterics Miss P. I will attend to Miss Carrington's hysterics, sir. {Exit, R.) Jack. Oh, very well. {To Marjorie.) I think I'll go and take a little smoke before dinner, if you don't object, darling? Marjorie. I don't care what you do. {Exit Jack, c, waving his hand to Marjorie.) Max — Mr. Payne — I want to tell you the truth about Mr. Miller. (Payne and Max. come down r.) Payne. Eh ? Max. The truth ? Marjorie {mysteriously). Have you noticed anything queer about him ? Payne. Queer ? Max. Yes, I have, several things that are darned queer. Marjorie. I ought to have told you before, but it was so humiliating to me, and I — I Max. What do you mean ? Marjorie. I mean that Mr. Miller isn't — isn't — right here. {Touches her forehead meanifigly.) Payne. Bless me ! Max. What ? 55 LETS ALL GET MARRIED Marjorie. We'd been married only a month when I found it out, and of course there was nothing else to do but to have him put under restraint. Payne. Upon my soul ! Max. This is a nice slate of affairs ! {Siis r.) Makjorie. We — we put him in a very good institution, where he had the best of care, but he must have bribed the doctors to let him out. Payne (siain^ r.). Extraordinary! Marjorie. I might have known he'd follow me. He can't bear having me out of his sight. Max. Bah ! Marjorie. It's an awful situation, isn't it? Max. Why didn't you divorce him when you found out Marjorie. The laws of England are so — so unjust Payne, What is his particular form of hallucination? Marjorie. All kinds; he forgets that he's married, and we have to watch hiui so carefully to keep him from pro- posing to good-looking girls. Max. This is a case for the police. Payne. Atrocious ! Marjorie. It's been an awful trial to me. The moment I saw him getting so — so friendly with Ethel I was afraid he was getting ready to propose to her. Max. 1 shall 'phone the police at once. Payne (rising-). No, you'd better let me attend to it. Max. I'll have the scoundrel under lock and key in an hour. Marjorie. Oh, yes, Mr. Payne, please do. Tell them to send two very strong policemen, or keepers; he's aw- fully violent at times. Only — only Max. Well ? Marjorie. Don't let them be harsh with Abie. I Payne. Leave it to me, my dear. (Exit, L.) (Enter Ethel, r., wiping her eyes.) Ethet,. Aunt Laura wants you both to come right away. The Grahams have come. Max. Hang the Grahams ! Marjorie {to Max.). I'll go; you break it to her gently. (Exit, R.) 56 LET'S ALL GET MARRIED Ethel. Break what ? Max. Come here and listen to me, Ethel. Ethel (coming down l.). Yes, Max, but please hurry. You know, the Grahams Max. Confound the Grahams ! Ethel. But Max. I don't want you to have anything more to do with this man Miller. Do you understand ? Ethel. But, brother Max. Don't begin to argue it. I don't want you even to speak to the fellow. Ethel. But won't that be rather awkward at dinner ? Max. He won't be here to dinner. Ethel. Won't be here to dinner? Max. No. Unless he succeeds in knocking down two policemen, which is not likely. Ethel. Brother, what do you mean ? Max. Marjorie's just told me that the man's a dan,?erous lunatic who has escaped from a private asylum in Eng- land. Ethel. Marjorie told you that ? Max. Yes. It's a frightful thing for her, poor girl. Mar- ried to a lunatic, and the laws of England Ethel. 1 don't believe it. Max. You may believe it or not, but I will be obeyed. Ethel. But Max Max. Payne's telephoning for the police now. Ethel. Oh, my ! Max. It'll be awkward if they arrive when the guests are here, but I shall tell Biggs Ethel. But, Max, you don't mean that you've actually sent for the police? Max. Didn't I tell you I had ? Do you suppose I'm going to have the ladies of my family insulted by a crazy man, and do nothing? Ethel. Insulted ? Max. Yes. One of his favorite hallucinations is forgetting that he is married, and proposing to other women. Ethel. But, brother, I don't think it's insulting lo be pro- posed to. Max. By a married man ? Ethel. Well, if the poor thing's so absent-minded that he forgets he's married 57 LET'S ALL GET 3IARRIED Max. Ethel, I'm surprised — I'm amazed — words fail me ! But understand, I intend to be obeyed ! Do you hear me ? (^He shakes his fist at her wildly, and holts out r.) ( Enter Jack, c. , whistling unconcernedly. She runs to him . ) Ethel. Jack, what have you done ? Jack. Me? (^They come down c.) Ethel. Yes, you. How could you say you were Mr. Miller ? Jack. Well, I had to say I was somebody, didn't I ? Ethel. Yes, but Jack. And I iliought it was about time somebody called off her bluff. Ethel. Bluff? You mean that there isn't any Mr. Miller? Jack. Of course there isn't. He's a pleasant little fiction gotten up for the purpose of getting that inheritance for Miss Marjorie. Ethel. Oh ! Jack. And incidentally to punish Max for daring to pro- pose to another girl. Ethel. I thought it was queer she didn't try to prove that you weren't Mr. Miller. Jack. Prove? She can't prove anybody isn't Mr. Miller. That's where we've got her. Pretty girl, your cousin, but a darned poor liar. Ethel. Jack ! Jack. Oh, it wasn't bad for a beginner — especially *' Abie," but Ethel. But why? Jack. Because I wanted to stay here, of course, to be near you. Ethel. You can't stay here. They've sent for the police. Jack. The police ? Ethel. Yes. Marjorie told Max and Mr. Payne that Mr. Miller was an escaped lunatic. Jack. What? Ethel. Yes, and Mr. Payne 'phoned the police. They'll be here in a few minutes. Maybe they're here now. Jack. I say, this won't do. 58 LETS ALL GET MARRIED Ethel. Jack, you'll have to tell them who you are. Jack. Lot of good that'll do. I'm through telling people who I am in this house. Ethel. But, dear, you must do something. The police Jack. I'll get out of here, that's what I'll do. Ethel. But, surely, if I tell them who you are Jack. Yes, please remember you told them 1 was Arthur Simpson. Ethel. But Jack. I tell you I'm going to hike. I don't like this luna- tic business. I've heard of chaps who were locked up for years because some other fellow swore they were looney. No, sir, me for the tall timber. Ethel. But, dear, surely you could prove that you've got good sense? Jack. No, I couldn't, and I'm not going to try. {Shirts tip C.) Ethel. But the police may be out there watching for you now. Jack (coming down). Gosh! (Shzrfs r.) Ethel. No, no, you'll run into some of the guests. Jack. I'll get out through the kitchen. Ethel. Biggs would see you. Jack. Well, where shall I go? Ethel. You might dress up in my clothes and go out the front door. Jack. I might dress up as Santy Claus and go up the chimney. Ethel. The very thing ! The roof! Jack. The roof! Why Ethel. Listen. There's a trap door that goes up from your room. You climb up on a table, and Jack. I don't care much for it. Ethel. But, darling, it's the only place where you'll be safe. I'll tell them that I saw you escape. Jack. Well Ethel. And then when it's dark you can come down and I'll let you out. Jack. It's cold up there Ethel. Take my coat. Here. {Picks up coat from chair,) 59 LETS ALL GET MARRIED Jack. And I'm hungry as the deuce. Ethel. I'll save some crackers for you. Jack. Humph ! Ethel. Of course, if you prefer to face the police Jack. Gimme the coat. Ethel. And I'll run out and see that the coast is clear. If it is, I'll go on into the drawmg-room. They're waiting for me. {Exiff R. Jack takes the coat.) Jack. Talk about bad luck for being born on the 13th — hanged if 1 don't believe the thing's catching 1 (^Enler Morris, c.) Morris. Hist! (Jack Jumps and bolts, v..) Hold on ! Jack. It's no use. Hullo, it's you, is it? Morris. Yes. Do you know, I've been clear out to Mary Jones', and the whole family have gone to California. Jack. Some people are lucky, aren't they? Morris. They've been gone a month. Funny Ethel didn't know, isn't it? Jack. Very. Look here, Morris, when you came in just now did you notice anybody scouting round the garden ? Morris. Scouting round the garden? Jack. Yes, hanging round — lurking — if you prefer it ? Morris. I saw a couple of guests down near the gate Jack. Guests ! Morris. But I'm quite sure they didn't see me. Jack. No, or they'd have nabbed you. Morris. Nabbed me? What for? Jack. Well, the police have to nab somebody, don't they ? (^Lays coat on chair.) Morris. The police? {In horror.) Great Scott ! Mar- jorie ! She threatened to forge a wedding certificate. And now she's done it ! Jack. You bet she's done it, and they're after me. Morris. I warned her Jack. Lots of good warning a v/oman ! I've got to get away from here before those chaps get on to me. Morris. But I don't understand 60 LETS ALL GET MARRIED Jack. Oh, you wouldn't understand if I talked all night. What I want you to do is to get out and see if those chaps are still there, Morris. But Marjorie Jack. Never mind Marjorie ; she can take care of herself. I'm the one that needs help. Morris. But Jack. Now you go out there and nose around and see if those cops are still at the other end of the garden, and if they are, you come back and tell me and I'll make a get-away. Otherwise, it's me to the roof. Morris. But suppose they see me nosing around ? Jack. They'll probably nab you, but what do you care? The family'll stand by you all right. Now, I Morris. But I don't want the family to stand by me. I don't want them to know that I'm here until dinner time. Jack. Of course, if you think more of your dinner than you do of helping a fellow creature in distress Morris. No, no, I Jack. I always did think the clergy were a gilded sham ; now I know it. Morris. But, my dear fellow, this is dreadful. I_I_of course I'll go — but Marjorie Jack. Come back and tell me the coast's clear and I'll come. Morris. Oh, dear, what can she have done ? Jack. Done ? She's done me, if you must know. Hurry, don't let 'em see you. (Exit Morris, c. Jack comes down.) Gosh, two of 'em. That was a close shave ! Now, if he {Listens.) Somebody's coming. {Runs, c; turns back; picks tip coat.) It's me to the roof all right. {Exit, r.) {Enter Biggs, l.) Biggs. There's nobody thinks of lockin' hup and turnin* down lights but me, of course. I 'ave to do all the 'eadwork that's done in this 'ouse. {Turns down light ; goes to door, c. ; stops.) That is a shadow hout there, and w'ere there's a shadow there's a man. Hi see you snoopin' round hout there, my good chap; hi see you. {Crouches l. of door ^ c.) 6i LETS ALL GET MARRIED Morris {appearing at c). Hist ! liiGGS. 'E's got a confederate hinside. I fire that 'ouse- niaid to-morrow. (^Enter Morris, c.) Morris. The coast's all clear. Biggs {pouncing on him). Oh, his it ? {They struggled) Morris. What do you mean by this ? Here I'm trying to help you Biggs. 'Elp yourself, you mean. Police ! Morris. You will, will you? {He gets Biggs down and pounds hiin.^ Biggs. Murder ! Police ! Miss Plum ! 'Elp ! {Enter Max. and Ethel, r.) Ethel. It's Biggs ! Biggs. 'E's murderin' me fer the silver, Miss ! (Max. separates thejn, holding Morris.) Morris. Here, let me go, you fool ! You're choking me 1 {Enter Goldie, l.) Biggs {gettiftg to his feet and turning up the lights). Don't listen to 'im, sir. Goldie. Me and Dick was out by the gate and Morris. Max ! Max. Great Scott, it's Ben Morris ! All. Ben Morris ! Morris {dusting himself off). Yes. Mary Jones wasn't at home, so Max. Mary Jones ? Ethel, Yes, I sent him out there so that we could give you a surprise by having him drop in to dinner. Max. My dear old fellow, to think that I've been trying to Morris {wringing his hand). Choke me ? Goldie. Why, he can marry us, can't he? Max. {angrily). Yes, he can. Morris. Why, of course I can. 62 LETS ALL GET MARRIED Biggs. I was just about to hannounce before the late hun- pleasantness occurred that dinner was served. (^Exitf R., with much dignity.) Max. Ben, you must join us. Come along. Morris (^glancing anxiously at Ethel). But GoLDiE {taking his arm'). Mr. Morris, I'm so glad you've come. I've always thought the Episcopal service was perfectly stunning. {She carries him off l. Max. starts to follozv, but Ethel stops him.) Ethel. Max, he's escaped — Mr. Miller — I saw him go. Max. Hang Mr. Miller ! He can go to the Ethel. Brother, your language is becoming absolutely impossible ! {She exits L., followed by Max.) {Enter Biggs, r., ushering in Dick, 7vho carries a package.) Biggs. Sit down 'ere, please. They've just gone hinto the dining-room. Dick. Don't disturb them. I'll Biggs {haughtily). Hi shan't disturb them. Hi'll just men- tion that you're 'ere. {Exity L. Dick sits down l. and begitis to fidget. He opens the package y which contai?is a gravy ladle ; ties it up again.) {Enter Marjorie, r., wrapped in a long coat^ with an auto bonnet on, evidently prepared for flight.) Marjorie. Oh, I thought every one was at dinner ! Dick {jumping up). They are. I — I — you're his Cousin Marjorie, aren't you? Marjorie. Yes. I don't think I have the pleasure of your acquaintance. Dick. No, you haven't. I — I'm just a friend of the bride's. Marjorie (doiun r,, disgustedly). Oh ! Dick. 1 just dropped in to — to bring her a little wedding gift, but I — I'd just as soon wait in the drawing-room if I'm in your way. Marjorie. Not at all ; I'm leaving here immediately. 63 LETS ALL GET MARRIED Dick. Leaving? But you've just come, haven't you ? Marjorie. I've been here quite long enough — quite ! Do you know when the next train leaves for town ? Dick (rising). I've got a time-table in ray overcoat pocket — get it for you in a second. You can get into town by eight o'clock. {Exif, R.) (Biggs enters l. and follows Dick out R., evidently sus- picious. ) Marjorie. Eight o* clock ! They'll be married by that time, and here I am, helpless and with a husband on my hands ! Oh, why didn't 1 listen to Ben ! {She sits by the table and leans her face on her handS) 1 hope she'll make him miserable. But what's the good of that when I won't be here to see her do it ? (^Futs her head on the table a?id bursts into tears. Enter Max., l. He stops in amazement ^ then comes toward her. She Jumps up lohen she hears him ; tries to hide the fact that she has been crying.^ Max. {coming down c). Biggs said that Dick was here. Why, Marjorie, you've been crying ! Marjorie {jumping to her feet). 1 have not. What have 1 to cry about ? Max. a good deal, I should think, with that husband of yours. Oh, Marjorie, how could you do it ? Marjorie. That's a fine thing for you to say ! Max. What have I got to do with it ? Marjorie. Oh, nothing, of course. Not a thing in the world. Max. I Marjorie. You quarrel with me over a silly flirtation at a dance, and drive me away from the only home I have, and then ask me why Max. I didn't quarrel with you. I only told you that you had no right to encourage that chap Marjorie. I didn't encourage him. He didn't have to be encouraged. Max. When you were engaged to me. Then you flew off the handle and insulted me. 64 LETS ALL GET MARRIED Marjorie. I didn't insult you. I only said that for a man who had such advanced ideas on paper, you were mighty fussy about your own family. Max. Art is one thing, the woman one is going to marry is another. Marjorie. Well, I'm not the woman you're going to marry, so don't rake up bygones. The girl you're going to marry Max. Oh, drop the girl I'm going to marry ! Marjorie. But Max. I'm tired of having her thrown at me fifty times a minute by everybody in this house from Aunt Laura to Biggs. 1 declare I'll bolt and cut the whole business. Marjorie. And the money ? Max. I don't care a hang about the money; what I want is peace of mind, and Marjorie. Yes Max. And to see you out of the clutches of that lunatic. He Marjorie. Max, do you mean to say that if Mr. Miller Max. Marjorie, don't. The laws of England Marjorie. Max, if I were to tell you that there wasn't any Mr. Miller — that 1 — I just made him up — because of you and — and that girl Max. Marjorie ! Marjorie. Yes, wasn't it awful of me ? Max. But he said Marjorie. He'd say anything. He did it to spite me. Max. Marjorie ! (^He takes her in his arms and kisses her.) (^Enter Goldie, l., napkin in hand, having Just left the table ; and Dick, r., with the time-table,') Goldie (comifig down l.). Well, I must say that for a man who's engaged to be married to another lady Dick {up r.). Whew ! Max. Miss McGrath — I Marjorie. He Goldie. Oh, don't trouble yourselves to explain. I wouldn't have him now if he was to go down on his knees and beg me ! Marjorie. Then 6s LErS ALL GET 3TAEBIED GoLDiE. But there is such things as breach of promise suits, and believe me {Enter BiGGS, r., dragging Jack, still in Ethel's coat.) Biggs (Jriumphatitly). Hi've got 'im this time, sir; Hi've Max. Got whom ? {Enter Ethel, l. Jack makes a dive to get away,') Biggs. 'Ere, you be'ave yourself, now. Jack. I'm not trying to get away. You needn't stick your whole hand down my throat. {Enter Miss P., Morris and Tayne, l., all carrying nap- kins ^ and Miss P. clutching Morris.) Biggs. 'E was getting hout of the trap door onto the roof when I seen him, with Miss Ethel's new coat on and who knows what in 'is pockets, the brute ! (Biggs and Jack up c. Ethel and Dick /// r. Miss P., Payne, Morris, l. Max afid Marjorie down r. Goldie down l.) Miss P. What could Mr. Miller be doing on the roof? Biggs. Settin' fire to the 'ouse, most likely. 'E ain't no Mr. Miller ; 'e's Slick Joe the Parson. Miss P. Oh, Ben ! Goldie. He's nuts, that's what he is. Morris. No, no, no ; this is Ethel's friend, Mr. Foster. Max. Foster ? Ethel. Yes, please, Marjorie, tell them that he's not — that there's not any Mr. Miller — that he's Jack Foster, and I'm engaged to him. Goldie. You said you was Mr. Miller ; I heard you. Marjorie. That was my fault ; I Jack {handing his card to Max., who reads it and tosses it aside angrily). Sorry, Professor, to have made such a row. Biggs. Hi don't like his looks, sir; Hi Ethel. But I do. Biggs, awfully. Now, do go back to the dining-room. {Exit Biggs, l., shaking his head.) 66 LETS ALL GET MARRIED Miss P. Mercy, yes; what will our guests think? Ben. Marjone, come at once ! Marjorie {meek/y). Yes, auntie. {She andUoRmsfoiloiv Miss P. ouf l. Jack and Ethel up stage talking.) GoLDiE. As for you, Professor Carrington, you'll hear from my lawyer in the morning. Payne (c). My dear girl GoLDiE Do you think I'm going to sit around and let a fellow that's engaged to me make love to another woman under my very eyes ? Max. Now, if you'll only talk this over calmly (Enter Biggs, l.) Biggs (to Max.). If I might suggest, sir— the dinner will be cold, sir ! (Exit, R.) Dick (r.). I say, Miss Goldie, you don't want to sue any- body for breach of promise. Think of the newspapers. Goldie. Mr. Havens, if you will kindly mind your own affairs, my lawyer's advice is enough for me. Dick (coining down l. to her). That's what I've been try- ing to do all day. I was trying to ask you to marry nie when we were down by the gate this afternoon, and then that chap called you and you ran off. Goldie (indignantly). Well, my goodness, Dicky Havens, why couldn't you say so ? 1 ain't a mind reader ! Payne. Ah, but I am, and I've been telling you all evening that you ought to marry some nice young man your own age, and Dick. Will you, Goldie ? Goldie. Well, I— I don't know— Dicky, maybe Payne. Good girl. And when you're married I shall ex- pect you to give me another lesson. Goldie (laughing). Ain't you the old cut up! Come, let's tell them. ' (She and Dick and Payne go out l. laughing. Jack and Ethel come down c.) (Enter Biggs, r.) 67 LETS ALL GET MABEIED Biggs. The police is 'ere, sir ! Max. Tell them to get out. We don't need them. Biggs. Yes, sir, I 'ave, sir. They caught Slick Joe this morning, sir, and he's gone back to the pen, sir. Max. Good. {To Jack.) Well, you came near going there. {Exit Biggs, r.) Ethel. Brother, he wants to apologize. And, please— we're engaged. Max. V/hat ! Well, he'd better apologize. Jack. The press never apologizes, but 1 tell you what I'll do. I'll write another article on the wonderful origi- nality of Professor Carrington in daring to break away from the hackneyed and conventional use of *' Should " and '* Would." Ethkl. Bully. Max. Well, that's not such a bad idea. (Shakes hands with Jack.) {E?tter Marjorie, l.) Jack. Somebody'd better 'phone down to that chap at the license bureau that the wedding's off. Mahjorie (coming dowii). But it's not off, Mr. Foster Jack. Oh ! Come on, Ethel. (He ivinks at Ethel, and they run out R.) Max. Maijorie, you — you really mean it ? Marjorie. Well, what did you think I came back for, if not for a wedding ? Max. It looks as though you had come back for three ! Marjorie. Well, Friday always was my lucky day. (They embrace.) CURTAIN 68 Unusually Good Eetertaiiimeots R«ad One or More of These Before Deciding on Your Next Program GRADUATION DAY AT WOOD lOLL SCHOOL. An Entertainment in Two Acts, by Ward Macauley. For six males and four females, with several minor parts. Time of playing, two hours. Modern costumes. Simple interior scenes; may be presented in a hall without scenery. The unusual com- 'bination of a real "entertainment," including music, recitations,, etc., with an interesting love story. The graduation exercises include short speeches, recitations, songs, funny interruptions, and a comical speech by a country school trustee. Price, 15 cents. EXAMINATION DAY AT WOOD HILL SCHOOL. An Entertainment in One Act, by Ward Macauley. Eight male and six female characters, with minor parts. Plays one hour. Scene, an easy interior, or may be given without scenery. Cos- tumes, modern. Miss Marks, the teacher, refuses to marry a trustee, who threatens to discharge her. The examination in- cludes recitations and songs, and brings out many funny answers to questions. At the close Robert Coleman, an old lover, claims the teacher. Very easy and very effective. Price, 15 cents. BACK TO THE COUNTKY STORE. A Rural Enter- tainment in Three Acts, by Ward Macauley. For four male and five female characters, with some supers. Time, two hours. Two scenes, both easy interiors. Can be played effectively with- out scenery. Costumes, modern. All the principal parts are sure hits. Quigley Higginbotham, known as "Quig," a clerk in a country store, aspires to be a great author or singer and decides to try his fortunes in New York. The last scene is in Quig's home. He returns a failure but is offered a partnership in the country store. He pops the question in the midst of a surprise party given in his honor. Easy to do and very funny. Price, 15 cents. THE DISTRICT CONVENTION. A Farcical Sketch in One Act, by Frank Dumont. For eleven males and one female, or twelve males. Any number of other parts or super- numeraries may be added. Plays forty-five minutes. No special scenery is required, and the costumes and properties are all easy. The play shows an uproarious political nominating con- vention. The climax comes when a woman's rights cham- pion, captures the convention. There is a great chance to bur- lesque modern politics and to work in local gags. Every part will make a hit. Price, 15 cents. Bl SLOCUM'S COUNTRY STORE. An Entertainment in One Act, by Frank Dumont. Eleven male and five female characters with supernumeraries. Several parts may be doubled. Plays one hour. Interior scene, or may be played without set scenery. Costumes, modern. The rehearsal for an entertain- ment in the village church gives plenty of opportunity for specialty work. A very jolly entertainment of the sort adapted to almost any place or occasion. Price, 15 cents. THE PENN PUBUSHIMG COMPANY PHILADELPHIA Unusually Good Entertainments Read One or More of These Before Deciding on Your Next Program A SimPRISE PARTY AT BRINKXEY'S. An En- tertainment in One Scene, by Ward Macauley. Seven male and seven female characters. Interior scene, or may be given with- out scenery. Costumes, modern. Time, one hour. By the author of the popular successes, "Graduation Day at Wood Hill School," "Back to the Country Store," etc. The villagers have planned a birthday surprise party for Mary^ Brinkley, recently graduated from college. They all join in jolly games, songs, conundrums, etc., and Mary becomes engaged, which surprises the surprisers. The entertainment is a sure success. Price, 15 cents, JONES VS. JINKS. A Mock Trial in One Act, by Edward Mumford. Fifteen male and six female characters, with supernumeraries if desired. May be played all male. Many of the parts (members of the jury, etc.) are small. Scene, a simple interior ; may be played without scenery. Costumes, modern. Time of playing, one hour. This mock trial has many novel features, unusual characters and quick action. Nearly every character has a funny entrance and laughable lines. There are many rich parts, and fast fun throughout. Price, 15 cents. THE SIGHT-SEEING CAR. A Comedy Sketch in One A,ct, by Ernest M. Gould. For seven males, two females, or may be all male. Parts may be doubled, with quick changes, so that four persons may play the sketch. Time, forty-five minutes. Simple street scene. Costumes, modern. The superintendent of a sight-seeing automobile engages two men to run the machine. A Jew, a farmer, a fat lady and other humorous characters give them all kinds of trouble. This is a regular gat- ling-gun stream of rollicking repartee. Price, 15 cents. THE CASE OF SMYTHE VS. SMITH. An Original Mock Trial in One Act, by Frank Dumont. Eighteen males and two females, or may be all male. Plays about one hour. Scene, a county courtroom ; requires no scenery ; may be played in an ordinary hall. Costumes, modern. This entertainment is nearly perfect of its kind, and a sure success. It can be easily produced in any place or on any occasion, and provides almost any number of good parts. Price, 15 cents. THE OLD MAIDS' ASSOCIATION. A Farcical Enter-^ tainment in One Act, by Louise Latham Wilson. For thirteen females and one male. The male part may be played by a female, and the number of characters increased to twenty or more. Time, forty minutes. The play requires neither scenery nor properties, and very little in the way of costumes. Can easily be prepared in one or two rehearsals. Price, 25 cents. BARGAIN DAY AT BI.OOMSTEIN'3. A Farcical Entertainment in One Act, by Edward Mumford. For five males and ten females, with supers. Interior scene. Costumes, mod- ern. Time, thirty minutes. The characters and the situations which arise from their endeavors to buy and sell make rapid-fire fun from start to finish. Price, 15 cents. THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY PHILADELPHIA Successful Plays for All Girls In Selecting Your Next Play Do Not Overlook This List YOUNG DOCTOR DEVINE. A Farce in Two Acts, by Mrs. E. J. H. Goodfellow. One of the most popular plays for girls. For nine female characters. Time in playing, thirty minutes. Scenery, ordinary interior. Mod- ern costumes. Girls in a boarding-school, learning that a young doctor is coming to vaccinate all the pupils, eagerly con- sult each other as to the manner of fascinating the physician. When the doctor appears upon the scene the pupils discover that the physician is a female practitioner. Price, 15 cents. SISTER MASONS. A Burlesque in One Act, by Frank DuMONT. For eleven females. Time, thirty minutes. Costumes, fantastic gowns, or dominoes. Scene, interior. A grand expose of Masonry. Some women profess to learn the secrets of a Masonic lodge by hearing their husbands talk in their sleep, and they institute a similar organization. Price, 15 cents. A COMMANDING POSITION. A Farcical Enter- tainment, by Amelia San ford. For seven female char- acters and ten or more other ladies and children. Time, one hour. Costumes, modern. Scenes, easy interiors and one street scene. Marian Young gets tired living with her aunt, Miss Skinflint. She decides to "attain a commanding position." Marian tries hospital nursing, college settlement work and school teaching, but decides to go back to housework. Price, 15 cents. • HOW A WOMAN KEEPS A SECRET. A Comedy in One Act, by Frank Dumont. For ten female characters. Time, half an hour. Scene, an easy interior. Costumes, modern. Mabel Sweetly has just become engaged to Harold, but it's "the deepest kind of a secret." Before announcing it they must win the approval of Harold's uncle, now in Europe, or lose a possible ten thousand a year. At a tea Mabel meets her dearest friend. Maude sees Mabel has a secret, she coaxes and Mabel tells her. But Maude lets out the secret in a few minutes to another friend and so the secret travels. Price, 15 cents. THE OXFORD AFFAIR. A Comedy in Three Acts, by Josephine H. Cobb and Jennie E. Paine. For eight female characters. Plays one hour and three-quarters. Scenes, inter- iors at a seaside hotel. Costumes, modern. The action of the play is located at a summer resort. Alice Graham, in order to chaperon herself, poses as a widow, and Miss Oxford first claims her as a sister-in-law, then denounces her. The onerous duties of Miss Oxford, who attempts to serve as chaperon to Miss Howe and Miss Ashton in the face of many obstacles, furnish an evening of rare enjoyment. Price 15 cents. THE PENN PUBUSHING COMPANY PHILADELPHIA 11111™.^,?!.°'' CONGRESS The Power of EApVi^2,V2:. * Expression and efficiency go hand in hand. The power of clear and forceful expression brings confi- dence and poise at all times — in private gatherings, in public discussion, in society, in business. It is an invaluable asset to any man or woman. It can often be turned into money, but it is always a real joy. In learning to express thought, we learn to command thought itself, and thought is power. You can have this power if you will. Whoever has the power of clear expression is always sure of himself. The power of expression leads to: The ability to think "on your feet" Successful public speaking Effective recitals The mastery over other mindj» Social prominence Business success Efficiency in any undertaking Arc these things worth while? They are all successfully taught at The National School or Elocution and Oratory, which during many years has de- veloped this power in hundreds of men and women. A catalogue giving full information as to how any of these accomplishments may be attained will be sent free on request. THE NATIONAL SCHOOL OF ELOCUTION AND ORATORY PM-kiray Building Philadelphia LIBRARY OF CONGRESS n 016 102 273 1 I