Mr. G. (going toward door with satisfied smile). There, I think that will set matters right. I would give something to see how Mrs. Grover will take it, when Bridget, by my direction, refuses to obey her. She will begin to find out whom she has to deal with then.
(Exit, L.)
Mrs. Grover (enters by another door, R., in season to hear her husband’s last words). Has Mr. Grover forbidden you to follow my directions, Bridget?
B. Yes, mum. He told me he shouldn’t be at home until four, and he should send me away if I took up dinner before that time.
Mrs. G. (coolly). Indeed! he is interfering beyond his province. However, you are to obey me, not him. Be sure to have dinner on the table at two o’clock precisely.
B. But he will send me away if I do.
Mrs. G. And I will send you away if you don’t.
B. (in ludicrous dismay). Och, what will I do? It’s turned away I’ve got to be whether I do it or not.
Mrs. G. Better obey me, Bridget. If he should turn you away, you shall be back again in less than a week, and, meanwhile, I will pay you wages; but, if I turn you away, it will be for good.
B. Faix, mum, you’re a jewel. An’ if dinner isn’t on the table at two o’clock precisely, then my name isn’t Bridget McDermott.