[MRS. ROBERTS goes and speak timidly to THE PORTER, who fails at first to understand, then smiles broadly, accepts a quarter with a duck of his head, and comes forward to AUNT MARY’S side.]
MRS. ROBERTS. Had he better give you his hand to rest your foot in, while you spring up as if you were mounting horseback?
AUNT MARY (with disdain). Spring! My dear, I haven’t sprung for a quarter of a century. I shall require every fibre in the man’s body. His hand, indeed! You get in first, Agnes.
MRS. ROBERTS. I will, aunty dear; but—
AUNT MARY (sternly). Agnes, do as I say. [MRS. ROBERTS crouches down on the lower berth.] I don’t choose that any member of my family shall witness my contortions. Don’t you look.
MRS. ROBERTS. No, no, aunty.
AUNT MARY. Now, porter, are you strong?
PORTER. I used to be porter at a Saratoga hotel, and carried up de ladies’ trunks dere.
AUNT MARY. Then you’ll do, I think. Now, then, your knee; now your back. There! And very handsomely done. Thanks.
MRS. ROBERTS. Are you really in, Aunt Mary?