Sylvia (with interest). Yes, yes?
Bobbie (with equal interest). Quite so!
Daniel. When I pass into the great beyond (Mrs. Dermott sniffs. He is obviously rather pleased with that remark, so he repeats it)—pass into the great beyond, I intend to leave the whole bulk of my fortune to the one of you who has made good——
Oliver. How do you mean "Made good"?
Daniel. I mean make good your position in the world, justify your existence, carve for yourself a niche in the Temple of Fame—— (Turning R.)
Bobbie (very quickly and brightly). Yes, yes?
Daniel (turns, sharply). That was entirely unnecessary, I didn't pause.
Bobbie. Sorry.
(They are all self-conscious as he addresses them.)
Daniel. What is the use of idling through life, frittering away your youth, I repeat, frittering away your youth, when you might be working to achieve some great and noble end? (Oliver embarrassed) You, Oliver, you might in time be a great inventor, and know all about the insides of the most complicated machines. You, Evangeline (Evangeline rises, poses by fireplace, one hand on mantel. Joyce laughs—she pulls her hair), might develop into a great poetess; your mother tells me that you already write verses about the moonlight. They all start like that, only unfortunately some of them stay like it. (She sits again.) You, Bobbie, you are artistic, too, you might without undue strain become a world famed composer, artist, actor. (Bobbie rises, moves down L., posing as actor.) Sylvia, for you I foresee a marvellous career as a decorative designer. You already arrange flowers and jumble sales—and last, but not by any means least, little Joyce (Joyce hangs her head, polishes her nails), now on the very threshold of life. What are you going to do with yourself? Sit at home and wait for a nice husband with mediocre prospects and perhaps an over-developed Adam's apple? Never, never! You too must rise and go forth—the world is calling to you. Do what you will. I can't think of a career for you at the moment, but no matter. I only want to impress upon you all the necessity of making good at something—make good, make good, make good! And the one I consider has done best for himself and the family name, to him—or her—I will bequeath every penny I possess. (Goes up four stairs.)