Dibbs (low that Grace may not hear). Right, sir! Now to fetch the “red hot icicle” or whatever it is!
(Exit, door at back.
Grace. Ten o’clock and pa not yet told that I am engaged! It’s too bad, Corney will be here in half an hour!
Tilly (entering, L. U. E.). A gentleman, miss, says he wants to see Mr Selwyn.
Grace. It must be Captain Katskill! Ask him to come in! (Exit Tilly, L. U. E.) How my heart beats! (Re-enter Tilly with Blithers.) It’s not Corney! (Blithers is a doddering old gentleman of bland manners, reddish sandy hair, very short and standing up all over his head; also big whiskers; in his hand he carries a fashionable hat, evidently not his own. He speaks throughout in the blandest tones; he wears enormous boots built expressly to suit a sufferer from bunions.)
Blith. Oh! I beg pardon, miss, but I believe Mr.—(looking inside hat)—Selwyn lives here?
Grace. My father, sir. If you will take a seat I will call him. (Blithers bows grotesquely and sits, L. Exit Grace, R. U. E.)
Blith. A nice little girl! (A card falls from his pocket as he pulls out handkerchief.) Bother it! I have forgotten my wife’s instructions again! “Always give your card to the servant when you make a call,” says Susan, “it’s etiquette and it’s likely to bring business.” She always sees I have plenty of cards in my pocket, but I mostly forget to give them. (Looking at card.) Bosco Blithers, professor of penmanship and author of “Pot-hooks and Hangers.” I had better drop a few about. (He places cards on table, mantelpiece, etc., etc., then comes down and sits on edge of chair.) This Mr. Selwyn must be pretty well off to judge by his place here and his hat. He left it at Mr. Dobbinson’s while I was giving the juvenile Dobbinson’s their writing lesson, and so I was forced to put on his or return bareheaded. (Puts on hat which is too small for him, and looks in glass, C.)
Enter Dibbs quickly.
Dibbs. Couldn’t get missus’s “Iced Weep” at any price. I daresay they won’t keep in this hot weather. Who’s the venerable party?