e/s. T44U A Blind Attachment Price, 25 Cents WALTER H • BAKER CO BOSTON BAKER’S EDITION Ifr OF PLAYS ^1 V BLIND ATTACHMENT f§fr'-' ' ' ‘"v; A COMEDY IN ONE ACT ESTHER B. TIFFANY UTHOR OF “A RICE PUDDING,” “ ANITA’S TRIAL,” “ AN AUTOGRAPH LETTER,” “A MODEL LOVER,” “THE WAY TO HIS POCKET,” “A BORROWED UMBRELLA,” “THAT PATRICK,” “YOUNG MR. PRITCHARD,” ETC. BOSTON A BLIND ATTACHMEN CHARACTERS. Mrs. Philips. Mary Philips, daughter to Mrs . Philips . Miss Maria Fosdick, aunt to Mrs. Philips . Elinor Christy, school friend to Mary . Mrs. Fogerty, boarding-house keeper* Costumes modern. Copyright, 1895, by Walter H. Baker & Co« Q 1 A BUND ATTACHMENT. J icene. — Private parlor in ordinary boarding-house . Door R. C., leading to bedroom. Door L. c., leading to passage. j Window , rear C., with blind drawn. Table at one side with \ vase of flowers and looking-glass over it. Mrs. Philips in well-worn shawl and bonnet seated at table studying a j directory. uMrs. Ph. ( running her finger down the page). Forsyth oss — F orrest — F oster — F otherbee — F otheringay. F otherin- ly ? No; Fotheringhill was what I made it "out in Aunt arias note. Fotheringhill. I can’t find any Fotheringhill. h dear, oh dear ; these directories always confuse me so ! nd Mary is no cleverer than I am in finding her way about in em. I think Fll ask Mrs. Fogerty or one of the help — I mean le of the servants. Aunt Maria doesn’t like to hear me call hem help. ^ ( Rises irresolutely.) I wonder if the chambermaid -perhaps Fll ring. ( Goes to bell.) I suppose I ought to ring. iunt Maria always rings if she merely wants the shade drawn. Rings and starts back nervously.) What a racket ! I wish I adn’t. I might say it was an accident. I might say (A nock.) Oh, come in. Enter Mrs. Fogerty. Mrs. Fog. '{severely). Oh, that was your bell, was it ? Mrs. Ph. ( deprecatingly ). Oh, I— it was a— that is Mrs. Fog. Nora was coming up, but I told her not to stop er sweeping. I told her I’d see to it. Mrs. Ph. {timidly). Very kind, I’m sure. Mrs. Fog. Well, as I said to Nora, it must be something oecial. ’Tisn’t hardly to be expected, as I said to Nora, that ny one five flights up would be likely to be making so extra free r ith the bell at all hours of the day. What can I do for you ? 3 4 A BLIND ATTACHMENT. Mrs. Ph. Oh, I — why, I probably just touched the bell bj accident — that is- Enter Mary, from bedroom , in light afternoon dress . Mary ( excitedly ). Oh, mother, mother ! it’s the loveliest o them all, isn’t it ? Mrs. Fog. Got a new dress ? Mary. Oh, Mrs. Fogerty ! Yes ; isn’t it sweet ? And fou more besides, all laid out on the bed in a row. Mrs Ph. ( arranging Mary’s dress). Stand still a momen Mary/ Wait, it needs a pin. [Exit into bedroom Mrs. Fog. When ’s it to come off? Mary. What? Mrs Fog. Going to be married, am t you ? Mary. Married ! What an idea ! Why, I just left schoc last week. Mrs Fog. ( using her duster and changing her tone). An four more p’retty dresses, all laid out. on the bed, you say ? Ho- shabby this furniture is growing, to be sure. I don t know wh, ever made Nora show your ma into these rooms when you cam Mary. Oh, but we like Mrs. Fog. {volubly). I’m going to move you down two tlign to-morrow, where it will be handier, and Nora can answer yoi bell any moment. t Mary ( apprehensively ). Oh no, no ! We don t want move> [ Glances towards window Mrs. Fog. Did your ma choose that dress ? She has tast( And four more, you say, laid out on the bed ! Haven t you kind ma ! . Mary. Oh, it’s not mother ; it's Aunt Maria. Mrs. Fog. Aunt Maria ? f Mary. Yes, my great-aunt. I m named for her, only th call me Mary. , , Mrs. Fog. {fingering Mary’s dress). She must be a love lady. * You don’t get goods like that for nothing. Mary. Why, she sent on three hundred dollars to have i fitted out in clothes, and she is going to take me with hei Europe next month to stay a year ! Mrs. Fog. You don’t say ! _ . d Mary. She lives there. She has a villa on the Cornice. S hates America. She is just going to be here a week. Oh hope she will like me ! I haven’t seen her for years. Enter Mrs. Philips with pins. She arranges Mary’s drc Mrs. Fog. ( to Mrs. Philips). As I was saying to yt daughter, ma’am, I haven’t really been able to sleep nights thi ing of you stewed up in these miserable little rooms, and ji A BLIND ATTACHMENT. 5 as soon as you feel like letting Nora and me move your things downstairs Mrs. Ph. Move ? Oh no, these rooms suit us perfectly. I Mary. Perfectly. [ She goes to vase and fingers flowers absently. Mrs. Fog. And what was it now you were ringing for, ma’am ? Want a little fire this chilly day ? Or a cup of tea ? Don’t ever hesitate in my house about asking for what you ! want. Mrs. Ph. I was trying to find Fotheringhill Street in the j directory. Mrs. Fog. Fotheringhill ? Fotheringhill ? Perhaps you S mean Fotheringay. Why, that’s the swellest street in town. Mrs. Ph. My aunt wrote me she was to be at ( consulting tote) Fothering— something Street. ' Mrs. Fog. Fotheringay it must be. Nora can show you where it is in a moment. , Mrs. Ph. (moving towards door). Oh, I don’t want to trouble ‘Nora. Mrs. Fog. No trouble at all. Mrs. Ph. But her sweeping ? Mrs. Fog. Cleanliness, I know, ma’am, is next to godliness, as the Scripture teaches, but in my opinion there are virtues above cleanliness, and one is to help our fellow-creatures in trouble; and I’ll tell Nora to put on her cap and apron and walk behind you quite quiet and respectful. Exeunt Mrs. Fogerty and Mrs. Philips. Mary. Leave these rooms ! What would poor Vivian say to that ! Ee-enter Mrs. Philips. Mrs. Ph. Oh, Mary, you will be sure and take your dress | right off. Mary. Yes, mother. ; , Mrs. Ph. I would not have you soil or rumple it for the I world before your aunt sees you in it. Mary. I’ll be careful. Mrs. Ph. How kind Mrs. Fogerty is. At first she seemed — ■ well, I was a little afraid of her at first. Mary fiutting her arms around her mother). Oh, dear little j mother, you are afraid of so many things ! Mrs. Ph. And she admires you immensely, Mary ; she just I '£id Well, no matter now, I mustn’t keep Nora waiting. pod-bye, dear. [Exit. I )e»Mary (going toward bedroom door). Well, I suppose I must ! -iyke this off. (Pausing.) But I should like Vivian to see me it! it first. ( Goes to mirror .) Is it becoming, I wonder ? 6 A BLIND ATTACHMENT. {Taking flower from vase.) I wonder whether this would give it the finishing touch ? (. Arranges rose in her hair.) was so nice of Elinor to bring me her roses after the b; Oh, I wonder what Vivian will think ! I wonder if he’s at window yet ! I wish I had asked mother to pull up the bln {Goes to window.) I’ll look the other way when I pull it and pretend I don’t see him. {Pulls up blind and moz hastily away, with a side glance over her shoulder .) Y there he is in his old place, half hidden behind those k draperies, and all eyes for me. {Sighs.) Oh dear, now course he’s wondering where I am, for in this corner of t room I am out of his range. {Taking up a book.) Shall I down and read ? No, I will wind my worsted. That new skt just matches my dress. {Takes skein of worsted from. . tad moves two chairs in front of window , puts the worsted oz the back of one , and is about to seat herself in the other.) k the chairs must be put the other way round, so that he can s the rose in my hair. {Changes chairs , and , seating herse begins. to wind worsted, talking as she does so, and gland occasionally from under her lids at the window.) I decla: he s bending forward to see better ! How particularly sad is looking to-day ! I wonder if he doesn’t care for pink. ( dear, I wish I had not let my hands get so brown this summ< rowing ! His are so white. Perhaps it would have been bett if I had just settled quietly down with a book, then he would: have seen how brown they were. {A knock.) Come in. Enter Elinor with shopping bag. Elinor {dropping bag). That bag and five flights of stair Well, Polly. * Mary {jumping up and kissing Elinor). Oh, Elinor ! Elinor {sitting down out of range of the window). He smart we look ! Aunt Maria, of course. Mary. Yes, of course. Elinor. Why wasn’t I born with an Aunt Maria ? Tu round. And a rose in her hair ! And a rose in each cheek tc for the matter of that, and such bright eyes ! {Looking rou ; the room suspiciously.) Were you really all alone when I car in ? Mary {nervously). Oh, quite alone. Elinor. And all this thrown away on a haircloth sofa and half-dozen shabby chairs. What a shame your mother kee you housed so 1 Mary. Oh, well, you know, Aunt Maria is so strict. Elinor. But Aunt Maria is not here yet. Mary, No, but she may come any day. A BLIND ATTACHMENT. 7 Elinor And like the proverbially unpleasant coming events, asts her shadow before. [ Opens her bag. Mary. Sh<; has such a horror of young girls going to parties r being out in the street alone — or Elinor ( suddenly drawing out and placing on her head a lans wig). Wearing men’s wigs. Mary. A wig ! A man’s wig ! Elinor ( taking it off, poising it on one hand and smoothing Yes, private theatricals. And what’s more, I have a coat nd vest in here. (Taps bag.) Oh, Mary, you ought to see me ct the part of a devoted lover. Mary. A man’s part ! You ! Elinor. Oh, just among us girls. Listen. ( Strikes attitude .) I- Oh, Miidred, ere ” — they always say ere for before — “ Mildred, re I* had gazed into your unfathomable orbs, I vainly fancied I lad realized what bliss was, but now the crescent sheperdess of tight, the azure sea, the roseate flush of dawn — flush of dawn ” I ( Hunting in her bag.) What is it about the “ flush of Hawn ” ? Where’s my book ? Mary. Oh, go on ! It’s perfectly lovely. Elinor ( pulling out moustache ). “ Flush of dawn ” — oh, • ere’s my moustache. I’m not certain about my moustache ; when I kiss her it wiggles so. Mary. Oh, never mind about the moustache. “Roseate lush of dawn.” Can’t you remember what comes next ? Elinor. Why, it’s all such bosh, you know. Fancy any sane nan talking like that ! Mary [dreamily). Don’t you think a man might — might look tuch things even if he didn’t dare to say them ? Elinor ( rummaging in bag). Look what? I didn’t quite atch what you were saying, Oh, joy ! my rouge. I thought ’d lost it. i Mary. And what does Mildred say ? Elinor. Mildred ! Mildred who ? Oh, in the play. Oh, Mildred is a stick. * Mary. Then she doesn’t really care — I mean Elinor ( looking at Mary critically ). You would do for Mil- dred’s part. Mary. Oh, Elinor ! Elinor. Not that you could act it any better than a white mouse ; but there’s something about you, a sort of [ Waves her hand. ' Mary. What would Aunt Maria say ? i Elinor. Aunt Maria’s have their inconveniences. Perhaps I am just as well off without one. But you must come to the per« formance at any rate. Mary. Oh, they will never let me. 8 A BLIND ATTACHMENT. 1 Elinor {kissing her). You poor little soul, don’t you get bore to death being shut up so ? Mary. Oh, no. I have my fancy work and — and books. Elinor. Books ! As if you ever glanced into a book ! There some mystery here. Come now, look me in the face and tell me ( Takes Mary’s hands.) Why, you cannot even look me in th face, and you are blushing just as you used when you had t flounder through “ j’aime, tu aimes,” with Prof. Rebaut at boarc ing school. Mary. Oh, Elinor ! Elinor. Out with it now. Mary. Oh, Elinor ! Elinor. You said that before. Mary. Well, Elinor dear, it isn’t my fault — but just opposite you know— and he seems so sad and has such beautiful eyes am keeps looking at me so — and so you see Elinor. Yes, I’m beginning to. Mary. I know it’s wrong, but it seems such a comfort to him and he doesn't speak but only looks — oh, such unutterabl things — and sits there by the hour, and whenever I happen t< look over Elinor. Happen to look over. That’s good. Mary. There ! Vivian is gazing at me. Elinor. Vivian ? Mary ( confusedly ). Oh, I only call him Vivian. Elinor {juinping up). Show him to me. Mary ( detaining her). Oh, don’t ! Elinor. Oh, I will just walk casually past the window. Mary. Oh, do be careful, for he is very, very sensitive, if b< has been through everything. Elinor. Through what ? Mary. Oh, all sorts of harrowing experiences. I’m sure h has. He isn’t young any more, and his hair is a little white o the temples, but his eyes. [Sigh v Elinor. If you were ever guilty of looking into a book should say you had just been through a course of German novel ( Passing before window.) He is nice looking ! Mary ( reproachfully ). Nice looking ! Elinor. And has never said a word. How long has this beei going on ? Mary. Oh, ages ! A whole week ! Elinor {after meditating). I have it. Just the thing ! Let' make him jealous. Mary. Oh, Elinor ! Elinor ( with decision ). Yes, we will make him jealous. Mary. But how ? Elinor. I’ll make love to you, in my wig and coat A BLIND ATTACHMENT. 9 Mary. But your skirts ? Elinor. Goosey, with this high sash, he can’t see my skirts. Mary ( holding back her skirts to look at her feet ; discon - dately ). Oh, dear, then he’s never seen my best slippers. Elinor (< tapping Mary’s cheek). Which Miss Slyboots has ien putting on every morning for his benefit. ( Going to bed - oi?i.) I’ll be back in a moment. You sit down just as you are when I came in. I’ll go round through the passage and ock at the other door. [Exit into bedroom with bag. Mary ( seating herself in chair before window and beginning wind). Elinor always does such wild things ! I hope it )n’t worry Vivian. (A knock.) Come in. Mrs. Fog*. I just thought I’d bring up these cups and saucers d this little kettle. Your ma’ll need a cup of tea when she mes back. Don’t look over strong, does she ? XU.XO. Fog. And we’ll see later about the moving. Mary. Oh, we don’t want to move, Mrs. Fogerty. I think Isse rooms are perfectly lovely. ! Mrs. Fog. I shouldn’t want your dear auntie to find you in ch looking rooms. A single lady, I think you said ? Mary. Oh, dear, yes. Mrs. Fog. And so free with her money ! Well, I must be ing. Good-morning. Mary. Good-morning. (Exit MrsI Fogerty.) What was Elinor was repeating about eyes — no, orbs — unfathomed — no, g fathomable orbs — and the moon and — and (A knock .) 1, dear, if that should be Aunt Maria ! Come in. (Enter JNOR in coat and wig.) Oh, Elinor! What a start you ive me. % Elinor ( with stage stride). Call me not Elinor. ( Coming to range of window and taking Mary’s hand.) Good-morn- r, Miss Philips. Mary. Why, we needn’t talk it out, Elinor. Vivian can’t ar. Elinor. We can act it out much better if we talk it out. Mary. Well, then, take a seat, Mr. Christy. Elinor ( drawing up a chair). Thank you. How fresh you >k to-day. The German was not too much for you ? IVEary. Why, Elinor, you know I never — oh, I forgot. No ; German didn’t tire me. Elinor ( drawing nearer ). May I not have the pleasure of Iding your yarn ? IVEary. Oh, you always get my worsted into such a snarl— inor, I — oh, I mean — why Enter Mrs. Fogerty, with tray . \ You are very kind. ro A BLIND ATTACHMENT. Elinor. That answer was all right. It’s much better to be little up and down with men, Mary. ( A devoted tone.) D trust me. Mary. Oh, is Vivian looking over ? I don’t dare to glanc round. Elinor. His eyes are as big as saucers. . Mary. Oh, dear ! Elinor {taking yarn from chair). Do let me hold it. Mary. Well, then. {Glancing over her shoulder at t) window.) He is taking it all in. Elinor. Now you must be continually finding tangles ne; my hands and touch my fingers, while you are unravelling ther I’ll start as if it sent thrills down one, you know. Mary {touching Elinor’s fingers). Why, you jumped as you had seen a mouse. That wasn t a bit as if you had felt thrill. , Elinor. When your audience is across the street you have act in capital letters, so to speak. Besides, anyway, in actir the broad effects are what you must try for. Mary. Oh, dear, I would never act ! Elinor, No, your style would never be quite pronounce enough. * But this is all quite too commonplace. {Leans fo ward in devoted manner .) I am so glad this is such a Ian ary. Oh, dear, I’m not ; my hands get so tired ! Elinor {seizing one of Mary’s hands). How can you s good. You are doi such cruel things ? Mary {drawing away). Oh, don t. Elinor. Now that start was very bG Mary. It wasn’t acting. You really startled me. You lo so like a man. And to think of poor Vivian over there Elinor, He has changed his position so that he can better. . , Mary. Oh, has he ? Oh, Elinor, we ought not to tormc Elinor. Is it really one of my own rosebuds nestling so bli fully in your tresses ? I must have it back. [Reaches i Mary {starting up). No, no ! . Elinor {seizing Mary round the waist and kissing tie Little pride ! . , Mary {moving hastily away out of range of the windo ■ Oh, Elinor. 7 ^ , Elinor. That last blush was superb. {Looks towards w dow.) And fetching, too. If he isn't sitting with his head his hand, the picture of despair ! Mary. Oh, Elinor, what have you done ? A BLIND ATTACHMENT. II Elinor. You will get a note from him to-morrow. Mary. I don’t want a note — I didn’t want you to torment m — I didn’t want — oh, dear, oh, dear, I hear mother coming ! Elinor. My wig, my wig ! [. Rushes to bedroom door , and exit. Mary. Poor Vivian ! Enter Mrs. Philips. Mrs. Ph. Not at Fotheringay Street, Mary, but I have a note. Mary {turning away from Mrs. Ph., embarrassed ). A note ? Mrs, Ph. Why, you have your dress on still. Mary. Yes — I— I’ll run and change it. Mrs. Ph. No, keep it on now, for we may see your aunt at jy moment. Mary. I’ll take your bonnet into the other room. Mrs. Ph. Well, you don’t seem much excited at the idea of eing your aunt at any moment — any moment, I say. •Mary (nervously). Oh, yes, I am. Mrs. Ph. But you may take my things ; I’m all tired out. lose stairs ! [ Seats herself in chair in range of window. 1 Mary. Let me make you a cup of tea. 'Mrs. Ph. Tea? Oh, that was kind of Mrs. Fogerty. But sre, put on that apron with the bib. You’ll find it on the top my basket. Mary. That hideous thing you have just finished for Kath- ine ? [ Gets apron. Mrs. Ph. Start the kettle, and then come here and help me ike out your aunt’s note. She does write the blindest hand. Mary (ruefully putting on apron). Read it aloud, mother. Mrs. Ph. {poring over letter). “To take Mary abroad with 2 on the — on the ” Mary (lighting kettle ; aside). What would Vivian say to ! e me in such a rig. I can’t go and sit there. Mrs. Ph. “ Take Mary abroad with me on the — on the ” ime here, Mary. Mary (moving nearer and craning her neck to see). I can l s quite well from here, “ On the — on the — ” Mrs. Ph. Well, on the Mary (desperately). On the — Teutonic. Mrs. Ph. Teutonic ? Mercy, no, it’s a word of one syllable, st or something. Come and sit down where you can really ! Mary (seats \er self near her mother as nearly out of range i the window as possible, arid looks over the letter). “ Take | ary abroad with me on the fifth,” isn’t it ? [i Glances at window and sighs. Mrs. Ph. Oh, yes, the fifth. How did you ever make Teu- 12 A BLIND ATTACHMENT. tonic out of that ? {Reads.) “ And travel for three months, before ” [ Reads in low tone . Mary ( glancing at window ). The fifth. Poor Vivian ! There he is still, with his head on his hand. ( A knock ; Mary goes to the door , opens it } and brings in a card.) It’s Nora with a card. Yes, Aunt Maria’s. Mrs. Ph. Hurry, child ! Off with your apron. Mary ( at door). Show Miss Fosdick up, Nora. Mrs. Ph. {smoothing Mary’s hair). Now, you be sure and talk very little, and be most respectful and modest like the Eng- lish girls, not like that wild Elinor Christy. Mary. Yes, mother. [Exit into bedroom . Mrs. Ph, I suppose my hair is all rumpled. [ Arranges hair at glass ; a knock . Enter Miss Fosdick. Miss Fos. Well, Eliza ? Mrs. Ph. Oh, Aunt Maria , Miss Fos. You got my note ? Mrs. Ph. I was just reading it when you came. Do let me take your wrap. Miss Fos. Where’s Mary ? Mrs. Ph. She will be right in. Miss Fos. Not out in the street, I hope ! Mrs. Ph. Oh dear, no ; in her own room. Do sit down — not that chair. Have you got your breath ? Do let me give you a cup of tea, Aunt Maria. [Pours water into teapot. Miss Fos. Well, if I like Mary as well as I did when she was a child, I shall take the support of her off your hands for two years. Mrs. Ph. Oh, Aunt Maria, you are always so kind. [Takes out handkerchief. Miss Fos. Now, don’t begin that, Eliza, for you know per- fectly well — yes, two lumps — (Mrs.' Philips brings tea) — you know perfectly well that it’s not kindness ; and as for Susan and Katherine and the rest of your girls, I wouldn’t have th’em ’round, even if I were dying of neglect on a desert island in -the midst of the Southern Pacific Ocean. Mrs. Ph. But you put Susan through college, and g'ave Katherine, when she was married, the loveliest trousseau Miss Fos. The more fool I. But don’t waste time talking^ to me about Susan and Katherine. I want to hear about Ma ry. Is she really the sweet, modest, retiring girl you describe her in your letters ? , Mrs. Ph. Aunt Maria, from the time Mary left off bibs — l — Miss Fos. Don’t talk to me about bibs. What I want, to know is, has she any foolish notions about men ? A BLIND ATTACHMENT. 13 Mrs. Ph. I don’t believe she has ever looked at a man. Miss Fos. Truth was never one of your strong- character- istics, Eliza, especially where your daughters were concerned. Mrs. Ph. (using handkerchief ). Oh, Aunt Maria ! Miss Fos. However, I mean Mary to marry eventually. I have a good match for her in my mind— a young resident phy- sician who has the adjoining villa to mine. Enter Mary. Mrs. Ph. Oh, Mary ! Miss Fos. So this is Mary. [Mrs. Philips takes Miss Fosdick’s cup . Mary (coming forward shyly). Aunt Maria ! Miss Fos. ( taking Mary’s two hands). Well, my dear, I half believe your mother has spoken the truth about you, after all. Mary. Oh, Aunt Maria ! Miss Fos. ( kissing Mary). And you are not afraid of your crabbed old aunt ? And you will come and make a bright spot for her in Villa Alba ? Mary. Oh, Aunt Maria ! [Miss Fosdick talks apart with Mary. Mrs. Ph. That’s right. That’s just what an English girl would do — blush and keep on saying, “ Oh, Aunt Maria ! ” Miss Fos. (to Mary). And your hair has changed color, too. Why, you are wearing a flower in it — a rose. (Changing her tone.) Stand off and let me look at your dress. Mrs. Ph. Youi; own gift, Aunt Maria. Miss Fos. I see — I see. That dress and a rose in her hair. (Severely.) That will do. (To Mrs. Philips.") Eliza, you have been lying to me, as usual. Ey™' [ AuntMaria! Miss Fos. Can you never learn it is for your interest to tell me the truth, Eliza ? Mary ( taking her mother's hand). Oh, Aunt Maria, how can you say such things to Miss Fos. Tell me, Eliza, who is the young man who is pay- ing attention to your daughter ? Mrs. Ph. Attention to Mary ! Miss Fos. (to Mary). Perhaps you are more truthful than your mother. Who is the man who is in love with you ? [Mary turns away . /Mrs. Ph. Mary knows no men at all. Mrs. Fos. I am talking to Mary. (To Mary.) You do not deny there is some one ? 'Mary (without raising her head). Aunt Maria, can I help it — is it my fault — it — if 14 A BLIND ATTACHMENT. Mrs. Ph. Oh, Mary, what are you saying ? Mary, keep quiet ! Go to your room ! You don’t know what you are doing. Miss Fos. Keep quiet yourseli, Eliza. Now, Mary, how long has this creature been carrying on this underhand Mary ( raising her head , with spirit). He’s not a creature, and he’s not underhand, and if he is sad and lonely and takes comfort in looking at me— — Miss Fos. Looking at you ! Holding your hands, kissing you l Mrs. y i>h. } ° h ’ Aunt Maria ! Miss Fos. Eliza, keep still. (To Mary.) Can you deny that he kissed you this very morning ? Mary (shrinking back). Kissed me ? Aunt Maria, Vivian has never so much as spoken to me ! Mrs. Ph. Vivian ! Miss Fos. Never so much as spoken to you ! (Silence for a moment ; Miss Fosdick rises, goes to door.) Good-bye. (Comes back and takes Mary’s hand.) If you had confessed’ frankly, Mary, I might have felt differently. There is something about you, child — I could — I could have loved you. Well, go your way. (To Mrs. Philips.) I will send you something for Mary’s support as I promised. Mrs. Ph. Then you won’t take her with you ? Oh, there is some terrible mistake in all this ! Miss Fos. Is there likely to be a mistake, Eliza ? I tell you, with my own eyes I saw a man take that child in his arms and kiss her, and she tells me Mary (a light breaking in upon her). Oh, but that wasn’t Vivian ! Mrs. Ph. Not Vivian ! Miss Fos. Not Vivian ! How many are there, then ? You are hardly improving your case ! Mary. But how did you happen to see it, Aunt Maria ? Miss Fos. Very simply. Instead of going to Fotheringay Street, I took rooms opposite this house. My windows command yours. I did not know it was yours. I did not know this morn- ing it was my own niece I chanced to see in the arms of that young man. Mary (laughing, her face in her hands). Oh, Elinor, Elinor ! Mrs. Ph. Oh, Mary, how can you laugh ! Miss Fos. No, laugh away if you choose at your old aunt and her high-flown notions of decorum and modesty in a young girl. As I say, I did not dream it was you, not even when I came into this room ; but suddenly, the dress, the rose in your hair jMary. Oh, wait one moment. [Runs to bedroom and^L\X x A BLIND ATTACHMENT. *5 Mrs. Ph. Oh, Aunt Maria, and I had kept her so secluded, quite different from Susan and Katherine and the rest ! I didn’t even know she had speaking acquaintance with a young man, much less Why, you are crying ! Miss Fos. (i using handkerchief ), Crying ! Nonsense ! Of course it is distressing to see as attractive a child as Mary used to be turn out such a liar ; but leaving her in your hands, I might have known — I might have known Mrs. Ph. Oh, Aunt Maria ! Enter Mary from bedroom , A knock . Mary runs to the door and opens it, Mary. Oh, Mr. Christy ! Mrs. Ph. It must be one of Elinor’s brothers. Mary ( holding door ajar). Aunt Maria, the person who kissed me this morning is here. Shall he come in ? Miss Fos. Let me out first. Mary ( leading Elinor in). Oh, Aunt Maria ! Oh, mother ! Don’t you see ? Mrs. Ph. Elinor Christy ! Elinor {bowing). Don’t I make an excellent man ? Miss Fos. What’s all this ? Elinor. Private theatricals, Miss Fosdick. Miss Fos. ( suspiciously ), And what I saw was merely a re- hearsal ? Mrs. Ph. Oh, Elinor — Elinor ! Elinor. Something of the sort ; and your being deceived, Miss Fosdick, as Mary tells me you were, is one of the highest com- pliments I could have. Mrs. Ph. I knew there was some terrible mistake. Miss Fos. {severely). Very neat, very nice. But it hardly explains away Mr. Vivian. Elinor. Mr. Vivian ! Miss Fos. ( ironically ). Now if you will please to bring on Mr. Vivian Mary. Oh, Aunt Maria, it’s true what I told you. I never have even spoken to him. He has rooms over there, and — and he just sits and looks at me Mrs. Ph. Oh, Mary, Mary, and you never Elinor. It’s just the Miss Fos. And he also took in the little comedy. Perhaps it was intended for his benefit. Elinor. It was entirely my idea. Miss Fos. Don’t talk to me about your ideas. Who and what is Mr. Vivian ? Mary. Oh, that isn’t his real name Elinor. It’s just the purest nonsense 1 6 A BLIND ATTACHMENT. Mrs. Ph. Oh, Mary, Mary, and the passage engaged, and Susan and Katherine and the rest Miss Fos. ( ringing violently ). Don’t talk about Susan and Katherine and the rest. I want to find out about this. Mary. Oh, Aunt Maria, you are not going to tell any one . Miss Fos. Do you think I can’t pump Mrs. Fogerty without Mrs. Fogerty pumping me ? Elinor {coming forward). Miss Fosdick, it’s nothing but the purest nonsense. Miss Fos. Humph ! {A knock j Miss Fosdick goes to door.) Jane, I want to see Mrs. Fogerty. [Mary retires back with Mrs. Philips, who weeps in her handkerchief. Miss Fos. {to Elinor). So your mother lets you act in private theatricals ? Elinor. Yes, Miss Fosdick. Miss Fos. At Villa Alba I have a wall round my grounds ten feet high. If you were my niece, and lived with me, I should make it fifteen feet high. Elinor {curtseying). Thank you, Miss Fosdick. Miss Fos. Does the child fancy I am paying her a compli- ment ? Elinor. I did take that liberty, Miss Fosdick. Miss Fos. Humph ! '{A knock.) Come in. Enter Mrs. Fogerty. Mrs. Fog. {blandly). What can I do for you, madam ? Miss Fos. I want to make inquiries concerning the house opposite. Mrs. Fog. Oh, certainly. Well-meaning people, I’ve heard ; cellar half full of water, to be sure, and the drains Miss Fos. I spent last night there. Mrs. Fog. Ah, indeed? You slept, I hope? An unfortu- nately noisy house, I’m told. Now, my rooms Miss Fos. Do you happen to know who my fellow-lodgers are ? Who has the room just opposite this ? Mrs. Fog. The room just opposite this ? Miss Fos. Yes. Mary {going to Elinor and taking her hand). Oh, Elinor ! Mrs. Fog. Why, that — oh yes, there he is, as usual. Miss Fos. {grimly). Yes, I see him. Mrs. Fog. I’ve noticed him sit there by the hour together. Miss Fos. Very impertinent of him to stare over here so. Mrs. Fog. Impertinent 1 Why, bless me, madam — the poor man is stone-blind. All, Stone-blind ! A BLIND ATTACHMENT. 1 7 Mrs. Fog. You’d never dream it, would you, with those eyes ? Mary {to Elinor). Stone-blind ! Mrs. Fog. A retired pork merchant, they tell me. Mary {to Elinor). A pork merchant ! Mrs. Fog. And would hardly be the company for you, madam, or Miss Fos. That will do, Mrs. Fogerty ; that’s all I wanted. Mrs. Fog. My first floor front just happens to be empty — very sunny — Japanese rugs — no trouble to show you Miss Fos. {opening door , suggestively ). That will do ; thank you, Mrs. Fogerty. Mrs. Fog. Hot and cold water, gas and electricity, charming view from [Exit Mrs. Fogerty ; Miss Fosdick shuts door on her . Mrs. Ph. Well, Mary, Mary ; you never were clever like Susan and Katherine and the rest, but I never dreamed Miss Fos. {taking Mary’s hand). Don’t talk about Susan and Katherine and the rest, Eliza ; it was all your fault. {Retir- ing back with Mrs. Philips.) Can you let me have Mary by fhe fourth ? [They talk up back . Mary {to Elinor). Poor Vivian ! Elinor {taking Mary’s hand). And his blind attachment. CURTAIN. LOST— A CHAPERON A Comedy in Three Acts by Courtney Bruerton and W. S. Maulsby* Six male, nine female characters. Costumes, modern ; scenery, an in- terior and an exterior. Plays a full evening. A lot of college girls in camp lose their chaperon for twenty-four hours, and are provided by a camp of college boys across the lake with plenty of excitement. The parts are all good, the situations are very funny and the lines full of laughs. Recommended for high-school performance. Price , 25 cents THE PRIVATE TUTOR A Farce in Three Acts by E. J. Whisler. Five male, three female char- acters. Costumes, modern ; scenery, two simple interiors. Plays two hours. Tells of the endeavors of two college boys to disguise the fact that they have been “ rusticated ” from the family of one of them. Hans Dinklederfer, the leader cf a German band, trying to make good in the character of a private tutor, is a scream. All the parts are good. A capital high-school play. Price , 25 cents THE REBELLION OF MRS. BARCLAY A Comedy of Domestic Life in Two Acts by May E. Countryman. Three male, six female characters. Costumes, modern; scenery, easy interiors. Plays one hour and three-quarters. A clever and amusing comedy with all the parts evenly good. There are many Mr. Barclays all over this country, and Mrs. Barclay’s method of curing her particular one will be sympathetically received. Good Irish comedy parts, male and fe- male. Strongly recommended. Price , 25 cents THE TRAMPS’ CONVENTION An Entertainment in One Scene for Male Characters Only by Jessie A. Kelley. Seventeen male characters. Costumes, typical tramp dress ; scenery, unimportant. Plays an hour and a half. An entertainment in the vaudeville class, with possibilities of unlimited fun. Music can be in- troduced, if desired, though this is not necessary. The opening is very funny and original and the finish — The Ananias Club — can be worked up to any extent. Strongly recommended. Price , 25 cents THE DAY THAT LINCOLN DIED A Play in One Act by Prescott Warren and Will Hutchins. Five male, two female characters. Costumes, modern ; scene, an easy exterior. Plays thirty minutes. A very effective play suited for a Lincoln Day entertain- ment. ^ It offers plenty of comedy, and is a piece that we can heartily recommend. Professional stage-rights reserved. Price , 25 cents PA’S NEW HOUSEKEEPER A Farce in One Act by Charles S. Bird. Three male, two female char- acters. Modern costumes ; scenery, a simple interior or none at all. Plays forty minutes. Jack Brown, visiting his chum, is tempted by his success in college theatricals to make up in the character of the new housekeeper, an attractive widow, who is expected but does not arrive. Pie takes in everybody and mixes things up generally. All the parts are first rate and the piece full of laughs. Strongly recommended. Price , ij cents PICKING A WINNER A Farce in Three Acts By Mac Pherson Janney Nine males, five females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, two interiors. Plays two hours. Three foreign noblemen in pursuit of the millions of an American heiress disguise themselves as a cook, a chauffeur, and a butler, and enter her employ. The police force. of McNabb, 111 ., embodied in a rustic disciple of Sherlock Holmes, misconceives them and causes a lot of fun for everybody but them. Very funny and original and strongly recommended. Professional rights reserved. Price , 25 cents CHARACTERS Sir Francis MacDonald, who wants Blanche . Count Alexandre, who wants Blanche' s money. The Earl of Norton, also desirous of Blanche's coin . The Grand Duke Ruffievitch, equally keen after Blanche $ wealth. Col. Arthur Hopkins, the police force of McNabb, Illinois. Fred 1 Mervyn > three gilded youths. Frank ] Hawkins, Lady Janet' s butler. Blanche Kane, an American heiress. Lady Janet MacDonald, Sir Francis aunt. Isabelle Foster I Olga Foster > three American heiresses. Stella Foster J THE FIRST NATIONAL BOOT A Farce in Two Acts By M. G. Seven males, two females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, a single in- terior. Plays one hour. Intended to be played by male actors only. Isry Ebbetts’s distrust of banks leads him to keep his money in a rubber boot. The fact that he never banks his receipts and his known possession of the “ Ebbetts fortune ” make him an object of interest to Nine-Fingered Pete and others, including two suffragettes with prohibition ideas. His troubles are many, but he comes out all right. Very funny. Can be recommended. Price , 15 cents CHARACTERS “Isry” Ebbetts, owner of Hamden' s Center Store. Eddy Rias, his clerk. Andrew Strong, a mysterious stranger from Portland. Francesca Willets ) members of HamderC s Edwin a Bemis j Reform League. Archenbachus Herodotus Snooze, a member of Pinkums De* tective Agency. Foggerty Young, town constable. Thomas Rustan, a practical joker. Squire Peckham, chairman of the town council * Farmers. Plays and Novelties That Have Been “ Winners Males Females Time Price Royal The Americana 11 i l A hrs. 25c Free Anita's Trial II 2 “ 2CC a Art Clubs are Trumps 12 X “ 25c it Behind the Scenes 12 iX' “ 25C it The Camp Fire Girls 15 2 “ 25c ii A Case for Sherlock Holmes IO l/z « 25C ii The Farmerette 7 2 “ 25c a Getting the Range 8 X “ 25c a Her First Assignment 10 1 *5 C it Hitty’s Service Flag 11 *X “ 25c it Joint Owners in Spain 4 X “ 25 c $ 5.00 A King’s Daughter 11 2 “ 25 c Free ; The Knitting Club Meets 9 X “ 25c ii A Lady to Call 3 X “ 15c it Leave it to Polly 11 I X “ 25c ii The Minute Man *3 iy 2 « 25c Ii Miss Fearless & Co. 10 2 « 25c ii ,! A Modern Cinderella 16 *X “ 25c II ■ Moth= Balls 3 X “ 25c it Rebecca’s Triumph 16 2 « 25c ii , The Thirteenth Star 9 l l / 2 “ 2CC it | Twelve Old Maids 15 I “ 25C it ■ An Awkward Squad 8 X “ r 5c it The B!ow=Up of Algernon Blow 8 X “ ! 5 C ii The Boy Scouts 20 2 “ 2CC ii A Close Shave 6 X “ *5° tt The First National Boot 7 2 I “ I 5 C it j A Half= Back’s Interference IO X “ X 5 C a His Father’s Son 14 iX “ 25c tt i The Man With the Nose 8 X “ 15c a 1 On the Quiet 12 *X “ 25c tt ■ The People’s Money 11 1 X “ 25c it l A Regular Rah ! Rah ! Boy 14 iX “ 2 5 c tt | A Regular Scream II IX “ 25c a 1 Schmerecase in School 9 I “ 15c a The Scoutmaster IO 2 “ 2 5 c it The Tramps’ Convention 17 I X “ 25c u The Turn in the Road 9 iX “ 15c a Wanted — A Pitcher ii X “ J 5 C a What They Did for Jenkins H 2 “ 25c tt Aunt Jerusha’s Quilting Party 4 12 1 X •“ 25c tt ! The District School at Blueberry | Corners 12 17 l “ 25c a The Emigrants’ Party 24 10 I “ 25c it ‘ Miss Prim’s Kindergarten IO 1 1 iX “ 25c it A Pageant of History Any number 2 “ 25c ii The Revel of the Year ii a X “ 15c it ! Scenes in the Union Depot ii u I “ 25c it Taking the Census in Bingville 14 8 1 X “ 2 5 c it The Village Post=Office 22 20 2 “ 25c a ! Women in War 1 1 X “ 15c 11 BAKER, 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Mass* f w v wv wv vwwww VVVVVV WVWW VWVV'VVVWV wvwwwww Plays for Colleges and High Schools Males Females Time Price Royalty The Air Spy 12 4 l A hrs. 25C Special Bachelor Hall 8 4 2 u 2 5 c $5.00 The College Chap 1 1 . 7 2l A tt 25C Free The CoSoael’s Maid 6 3 2 tt 2 5 C tt Daddy 4 4 a 25C « The Deacon’s Second Wife 6 6 2J£ u 25C it The District Attorney IO 6 2 a 2 5 C “ The Dutch Detective 5 5 2 a 25C “ An Easy Mark 5 2 1 5 C “ The Elopement of Ellen 4 3 2 a 25c tt Engaged by Wednesday 5 11 ll A a 25 c tt The Farmerette 7 2 tt 25c tt For One Night Only 5 4 2 tt 15c tt Hamilton ii 5 2 a 50c Special Higbee of Harvard 5 4 2 tt 15c Free f Hitty’s Service Flag 11 a 25c tt The Hoodoo 6 12 2 it 25c tt J The Hurdy Gurdy Girl 9 9 2 tt 25c a Katy Did 4 8 tt 25 c a Let’s Get Married 3 5 2 tt 5 oc Special London Assurance IO 3 2 tt I 5 C Free Lost a Chaperon 6 9 2 tt 25c *« The Man from Braodoo 3 4 a I 5 C it The Man Who Went 7 3 a 25c Special The Man Without a Coun ty 46 5 1 ^ a 25c Free Master Pierre Patelin 4 1 ll A it 50 c << i Me and Otis 5 4 2 a 15c “ The Minute Man I 3 *A a 25c' u Mose 11 10 l Vz a iSc n Mr. Bob 3 4 'A a W “ Mrs. Briggs of the Poultry Yard 4 7 2 tt 25c tt Nathan Hale *5 4 2^ a 5 oc $10.00 Nephew or Uncle 8 3 2 a 25c Free Professor Pepp 8 8 a 25c tt A Regiment of Two 6 4 2 a 25c tt The Revenge of Shari- Hot- Su 3 4 I# a 15c tt The Rivals 9 5 2 ^ it 15c tt The Romancers 5 1 2 it 25c tt The Rose and the Ring 16 5 I# a 25c it Sally Lunn 3 4 ■1# n 2 5 c ft The School for Scandal 12 4 2 /4 n l 5 c tt She Stoops to Conquer 15 4 2^ a l 5* ft Step Lively 4 10 2 tt 25c tt The Submarine Shell 7 4 2 it 25c Special The Thirteenth Star 9 tt 25 c Free The Time of His Life 6 3 2 ^ a 25c a Tommy’s Wife 3 5 \A tt 25c t* The Twig of Thorn 6 7 'A. a 60c tt For “ special ” royalties, see catalogue descriptions for 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 J 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 | I 4 4 4 4 4 . . ^ detailed information. ^ BAKER, 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Mass* yry 'ay * ] y y yyy y y r^pty 1