Mr. P. (sitting down near Mrs. L.). The turn which the conversation took just now suggested a plan to me, which, with your permission, I should like to carry out.
Mrs. L. What is it?
Mr. P. You are, of course, aware that I love your daughter, and would gladly marry her. She has rejected me, but still I think she likes me as well or better than any one else. Now, cannot I, by stratagem, bring her to consent to a marriage with me?
Mrs. L. I wish you might do so, and will gladly assist you in any way I can. But what is your plan?
Mr. P. I thought I might, with your assistance, personate the spirit of her former husband, and appear to her to-night while this conversation is fresh in her mind, and warn her, if she wishes him to rest in peace, that she must marry a certain Alfred Percival, who will make her a good husband.
Mrs. L. It is a capital idea. I think the conversation seemed to affect her considerably. Suppose you come here at ten o’clock to-night. I will remain up, and arrange your ghostship.
Mr. P. Very well, I will do so. And I believe I will go now, as I have some preparations to make.
(Exit Mr. Percival, L. Curtain falls.)
Scene II.—A curtain is arranged from front to back, dividing the stage into two rooms, as both must be seen at once. There must be a door between. In right-hand room is a lounge with pillow and blanket. Flora sits in rocking-chair, soliloquizing.
F. There’s something going on, I’m sure, but what it can be isn’t quite clear to me. Mother has asked me half-a-dozen times if it wasn’t bed-time; and yet she, herself, hasn’t made any preparation toward retiring. I shall lie down, with my clothes on, ready for any emergency. There’s no danger of sleep overtaking me. I feel as if I shouldn’t sleep any at all to-night.