Lydia [still laughing]. Oh, no—oh, no—I take after my great-great-grandfather. I've just discovered it. At last I'm interested in the noble men of the Wilde family. I know he liked to laugh. Look at the pertness of that! [Holding up the portulaca.]
Harriet [ignoring the flower]. Please give me your sun-hat, Lydia.
Lydia [demurely]. Oh, are you going to look at the portulaca?
Harriet. No. I am going to see what you have done to the rose-hedge. [Going out through the French door.]
Lydia [suddenly furious]. Go look at your decrepit old rose-hedge! Go look at it! And I hope you get hurt on a thorn and bleed, yes, bleed—the way you make me bleed. I did cut a hole in it. I don't care who sees in—I want to see out! [Looking toward the portrait and throwing the flowers on the floor.] Take your stupid flowers—take them. They don't do me any good. They're withering, they're withering!
[She goes to lean against the window and look toward the court house. As she stands there, the door opens slowly and Joe, with blankets wrapped about him and trailing from his shoulders, comes unsteadily into the room. He carries paper and drawing materials. He is an eager boy, who seems always afraid of being overtaken. Lydia turns suddenly and starts toward the door. She stops in surprise as she sees her brother.]
Lydia. Joe! My goodness! Whatever made you come downstairs? Aunt Harriet will be angry. Why this might be awfully dangerous for you, Joe. How did you come to do such a thing?
[She helps him toward the lounge and arranges a cushion for him.]
Joe [sinking back, but facing the window]. I wanted to see how the court house was getting on. I can't see out of my window, you know.
Lydia. Well, you see [Raising the blind.] they will soon have it done.