Abbie Farwell Brown

“ Miss Griffin. Yes, my dear. I shall be very happy to take tea with you and Katherine this afternoon and meet your young relatives. You say they are your brothers?
Gladys. Our brother and cousin, Miss Griffin.
Miss G. Ah, you are relatives, then? I did not know that.
Gla. No; Kittie and I are not relatives—exactly. But Charlie—Mr. Goldthwaite, is her brother, and Fred Olney is my cousin.
Miss G. Ah, I see. (Rising.) Well, my dear, as I previously remarked, I shall he very glad to meet the young men. ”

“ Why, are you all raving crazy? Girls, girls, what does this mean? How could you? (Weeps in handkerchief.)
Kit. (taking one of her hands) . O Miss Griffin! If you would only listen. (She is pushed away.)
Gla. (taking other hand) . We can explain it all, really.
Miss G. (pushing her away) . Explain! This is beyond explanation. It cannot be explained.
Char. Oh, yes, it can, ma'am, indeed. I am Sam—Charlie Goldthwaite, and I am Kittie's brother. (Takes Gladys's hand.)
Fred. And I am Frederic S. Olney, Miss Griffin, a Harvard senior. I can prove that too, and Gladys's cousin. ”

“ I can't help dreading lest something awful should happen this evening. I half believe Miss Griffin suspects something wrong now. I thought she looked queerly at me just now when I spoke of the boys.
Kit. Nonsense! You must have a bad eye. People seem always to look queer to you. So you have said all along, ever since we began to correspond with our brother and cousin under the names of Mabel Warren and Emma Smith. I don't see anything very wrong in that myself, especially when two of us——two of you are as good as engaged already.
Gla. You have no right to say that, Kittie. ”

“ And would you try to help her out of the scrape she had got herself and you into, and never be hateful, or nagging, or revengeful afterwards, as men always are?
Fred. I might want to tease her a bit, so as to be quits, you know. I might want to deceive her a little in return, perhaps. But I shouldn't be a lifelong enemy, I hope. But, tell me, what would you do if any one deceived you in return? Would you as magnanimously forgive him?
Kit. Oh, don't argue with me now. Of course I would take a joke. But I really am in earnest, for once. It was a great temptation; men are so easily deceived. ”

“ We'll get our tea somewhere. Don't want to meet the Griffin again." Do they mean me? "Going to call on Mabel and Emma. Sorry to skip. Give our love to the Griffin. Tell her we'll see her later—at the swarry, perhaps. Ta-ta. Sammy Smith." This is disgusting! But is this young person who expresses himself so colloquially and disrespectfully in truth Mr. Olney or Sammy Smith? I do not understand it. There is certainly something wrong here. Can my girls be deceiving me, and are these not their own brother and cousin after all? ”

“ Do I sufficiently resemble my respected preceptress?
Gla. Good! There, screw your mouth like that again—more on the other side. (Kittie grimaces, attempting to imitate Miss Griffin's puckered mouth.)
Kit. I haven't quite got the hang of my mouth yet. Mine isn't really big enough. Now, I must have a few more wrinkles, and a more roseate nose. Where's the rouge? (Goes to mirror, and begins lining in wrinkles with a charcoal stick.)
Gla. (crossing to table, R.) . Here it is. (Handing rouge-box to Kittie.)
Kit. Mercy! Miss Griffin didn't see that box on the table, did she? ”

“ Ah, you are both from Harvard? Why, I wonder if you do not know the two young gentlemen whom I expect here to-night, the relatives of two others of pupils—Miss Goldthwaite and Miss Courtenay—their brothers? They are from your university also.
Char. Never heard of them.
Fred. We are not acquainted with many of the upper class men. We are only freshmen ourselves. ”

“ Fred. Yes; if we might see Mabel and Emma for a few moments, ma'am, we could clear up everything.
Kit. You are sure you can? (Regarding Fred attentively.) Now I think I do see a startling resemblance between yourself and Miss Warren. Is it the nose? No; she has a very nice nose indeed. The mouth? Ah, yes. I think it must be the mouth.
Fred (meekly) . Yes'm. They always said our mouths were very much alike. (Gladys laughs wildly behind screen; Charlie exploding on stage, L.)
Kit. (turning sharply to Charlie) . You, sir, what are you laughing at? You do not at all resemble your sister. ”

“ Fred. You don't look it, by Jove.
Kit. Now you are laughing at me. (Pouts.) But there—do not let us begin by being silly again. We are too old for this non-sense now. (Puts on a grave air.) But why didn't you get here sooner? We have expected you a long time—hem! haven't we, Gladys?
(Gladys and Charlie start; Gladys crosses over to Kittie; when the boys are not looking wipes a wrinkle from her face.)
Gla. (aside to Kittie) . You didn't get it all off. (Aloud.) Yes, indeed. Where have you been?
Char. (trying to appear embarrassed) . Why, you see—
Fred (crossing over to Charlie, R.) . ”

“ Fred (siting beside her) . Play you are Mabel, then. Do you know, I am really very fond of Mabel—I feel quite inclined to play the devoted brother of Mabel—as Sammy Smith. (Leans forward to kiss her; Miss Griffin appears suddenly from behind screen, C.; Kittie screams; tableau.)
Miss G. Sammy Smith! What does this mean? (Sternly.) Katherine Goldthwaite, is this your brother or your cousin? (Points to him dramatically.)
Kit. Oh—it—it's—Mr. Olney.
Miss G. (to Fred) . Are you her cousin?
Fred. No, ma'am. But—
Miss G. That's enough! (To Kittie.) I told you to come to me at six. ”

“ Fred (takes out card and scribbles on it at the table, R.; tosses it on table, where Charlie reads it) . This is to explain our sudden departure. Now, then, we'll write a note to the girls pretending to come from Miss Griffin, and leave it here under the door as we go out. We'll say she has found out their clandestine correspondence, and requests to see them after the reception in regard to their future health. Here we go. (Sits at table, and writes rapidly; business tumbling over papers, etc.) ”

“ You don‘t suppose he will think I have really grown old, do you? (Turns to mirror and surveys herself.)
Gla. Nonsense, you goose! He thinks you are a hard-hearted girl, and don't care anything about him. ”