Bob. Have I? That’s just my luck!
(Quick curtain.)
ACT II.
FIVE YEARS SUPPOSED TO ELAPSE.
Scene same as Act. 1.—Table, R. C.; arm-chair, L. C.; small table, R. C.; with chair R., in which is seated Mrs. Loring, knitting.
Mrs. L. Dear me, how time does fly. It’s five years this very day since our Harry disappeared. Five long years, and no word, no sign, from him. Perhaps he’s dead. Poor boy, innocent or guilty, his loss has been a sad blow to his father. Since that day, he has never been the same man. Prostrated by a long illness, the result of that terrible excitement, feeble in body, wandering in mind, he is but the wreck of the grand old doctor of former days. The school has been given up, the house mortgaged, and what the end will be, Heaven alone can tell. But for Dilly, this would be a sad house. Dear child, she is the ruling spirit. When the blow fell, forsaking all her roguish pranks, she proved herself a woman. The doctor cannot stir without her, and we have all come to depend upon her quick and ready judgment. To-morrow the interest on the mortgage is due. I know we have no money to meet it, no friends to assist. Ah, me, I fear the house must go, and that I am convinced would kill the doctor. (Enter Lucy, R.)
Lucy. Aunt Loring, I have come to you for advice. Mr. Hastings sent me a note this morning, in which he declares his love for me, and asks me to become his wife.
Mrs. L. I have long suspected this would be the result of his stay here. Does it surprise you, Lucy?
Lucy. You know how persistently he has visited us for the last three months, and how attentive he has been to me. He is very agreeable, and—and—
Mrs. L. You love him. Is that it, Lucy?