(Deborah crosses to linen press L., sets tablecloth and lays table r. c. for meal.)
MRS. R. (c.) Oh, hoity, toity! What be the use of being a lawyer and knowing things if ’ee never tells a body a bit o’ news? And now I come to think of it, I’ve got a bone to pick wi’ thee about that very thing. Thee never told me old Hanningford wur agoing to die without leaving my boy so much as a brass farthing. Do you think as how I’d ’a’ gone on sending the old skinflint the best turkey in the yard every Christmas, and the best goose come every Michaelmas, if I’d known as how he’d hadn’t given us so much as the price as a suit o’ black, and Allen his own cousin’s child. (Crossing R.)
A cousin is a cousin, even if it be a distant one. (Sits l. of table r.)
MR. P. Now, my dear Mrs. Rollitt, how could I tell he was going to die?
MRS. R. Thee knowed he wur going to die sometime, and thee knowed he hadn’t left the boy anything, and thee might a’ dropped me a hint. “Mrs. Rollitt,” thee might ha’ said, “thee’s only wasting good poultry on a worthless man. The old sinner’s a going to die as hard-fisted and ungrateful as he’s lived.” It would ’a’ been a neighbourly act o’ thee!
MR. P. (Laughing.) But I didn’t know he wasn’t going to leave you anything. You see he died intestate.
MRS. R. In——— what?
MR. P. (Rises.) Intestate. (Deborah laughs a little.) Without leaving a will; he left nobody anything.
MRS. R. (Rising.) Well, then, where does the old fool’s money go to?
MR. P. Why, to his son, of course! (Cross to r. near chair, fireplace down stage.)