MAR. Oh, I won’t tell, if you mean that.
LADY P. Where’s his lordship?
MAR. (pointing L.H.) With my husband.
LADY P. Remember!
MAR. But stop, Polly—wouldn’t it be better not to mind anybody knowing anything? because it don’t seem loving and cosy to be sly, and to be frightened every minute in case somebody should say something about somebody that would make somebody else angry, and get everybody into trouble, and set everybody quarrelling with everybody. I don’t like it, Polly dear! where there’s secrets there’s no happiness, and no love—ah! and no goodness, if you come to that.
LADY P. Dear Margery, I feel your reproof, sincerely feel it—oblige me but for this once, and never, never will I again place myself in a position that shall cause me to conceal one thought or action—I will not, indeed!
MAR. Then you’re a good girl, and I’ll do my best this time, because I know you’ll keep your word with me. Good bye for the present. (shakes hands with her)
Exit LADY PLATO at back.
—I just now felt so comfortable when I found myself once more in my old clothes, and was going to be so happy and so free, and now I’m in trouble again! I don’t like there being any secrets, and I know I’m the worst in the world to keep one—and as to my not telling about the Captain and my aunt having seen one another, I may try not to say a word, but it’s sure to slip out after dinner. What’s Polly afraid of? why does she want to make believe not to know her old sweetheart? and I’m to help her in the make believe! I don’t like it! and I feel now as if I had stolen something, and had got it in my pocket, and that somebody was coming to search me.
JOE. (without) I don’t care! I’m as good as you are, any day!