lic as you are.

TIMOTHY. The Church has given me up as a heathen, ma'am, when I married
your cook, and she a Protestant.

AUGUSTA. I've been worried about Minnie since she went to Newcastle. She
has so much vitality, and I'm afraid she's pleasure loving though she
seemed to take to religion with her whole soul. And where's Jamesy?

TIMOTHY. Jamesy, is it? It's gone to the bad entirely he is, with the
drink. He left the shops when the twelve-hour shifts began--wherever
he's at now. It's home Minnie came from Newcastle yesterday, ma'am, for
a visit,--she's outside there now, with Bert,--they walked along with
me.

AUGUSTA. Bring them in, I want to see them,--especially Minnie. I must
say I'm surprised she should have come home without calling on me.

TIMOTHY. I'll get them, ma'am.

(He goes out of the door, upper right. GEORGE, who has been
palpably ill at ease during this conversation, now makes for the
door, lower right.)

AUGUSTA. Where are you going, my dear?

GEORGE (halting). I thought I'd look around and see if I'd forgotten
anything, mother.

AUGUSTA. Stay with us,--there's plenty of time.

(TIMOTHY returns through the doorway, upper right, with BERT, but
without MINNIE.)

TIMOTHY. It's disappeared entirely she is, ma'am,--here one minute and
there the next, the way with young people nowadays. And she's going back
to Newcastle this afternoon, to her job at the Wire Works.

AUGUSTA. I must see her before she goes. I feel in a measure responsible
for her. You'll tell her?

TIMOTHY. I'll tell her.

AUGUSTA. How are you getting along, Bert?

BERT. Very well, thank you, Mrs. Pindar.

(The MAID enters, lower right.)

MAID. Miss Thorpe wishes to speak with you, ma'am.

AUGUSTA (gathering up her knitting). It's about the wool for the Red
Cross.

(Exit, lower right.)

GEORGE (shaking hands with BERT). Hello, Bert,--how goes it?

BERT. All right, thank you, lieutenant.

GEORGE. Oh, cut out the title.

(BERT FARRELL is about twenty three. He wears a brown flannel shirt
and a blue four-in-hand tie, and a good ready-made suit. He holds
his hat in front of him. He is a self-respecting, able young Irish
American of the blue-eyed type that have died by thousands on the
battle fields of France, and whose pictures may be seen in our
newspapers.)

ASHER. You're not working today, Bert?

BERT. I've left the shops, Mr. Pindar,--I got through last night.

ASHER