MR. P. (Who has entered c. followed by Ichabod and Rachel l. He goes quietly up to Mike and lays his hand on his heart, and bends over him earnestly, and it is a few seconds before he speaks.) Heart disease, I suppose. (At back of settee l. Gets r.c. of settle.) My letter in his hand. (Gets to back of settle.) It’s an ill wind that blows nobody any good. (Turns and feels Mike’s heart once again, then quietly turns away to Allen. Comes c.) He stood between you and £200,000. You are now old Hanningford’s heir!
ALLEN. I!
MRS. R. Allen!
LUKE. (To corpse of Mike—aside as he crosses to back.) Curse you!
MEDIUM CURTAIN.
ACT II.
Scene: Morning room in a handsome flat—a showily furnished room—rather ostentatious and loud in its decoration and appointments. Large table in bay window r.upper corner. Fire-place r.Doors at back l.c. and two in l. wing. Small tables r.and L.. Easy chairs l. and R.
Breakfast is laid on large table—it is a gorgeously laid meal—silver and plate in profusion, and a great number of dishes—tea urn and coffee urn—a boiling kettle—flowers and ferns in vases and stands. One, a large wavy one, is at left edge of table close to Allen. The table in short is crowded and showy to the last degree. A magnificent footman in gorgeous livery is standing behind; and Mr. Piffin in solemn black waits close to Allen’s chair, a dish in his hand. Allen is discovered sitting l. of table, and eating his breakfast in a most melancholy fashion. He looks intensely miserable and awed. The terrible solemnity of the whole affair has depressed his spirits to their lowest ebb. He glances nervously now and then as the meal proceeds, from the footman to the valet, and vice versa, as they silently and with much ceremony walk about and wait on him. The fern by his side keeps getting in his way, tickling and irritating him, but he dare not move it. He eats in silence, and when he does speak, does so in a humble, deprecating, nervous manner. He is dressed in a loose morning costume. Music to open Act.