im now, just as they have always been. The buzz
begins.)

SIR JAMES. Aha! you'll be an ambassador yet. What do you think of that,
Letty?

LETTY. Well done, Gerald.

LADY FARRINGDON. How like you, Gerald!

TOMMY. Good old Gerald! I never knew such a chap. You really _are_!

GERALD (softly). I wish I weren't, Tommy! Oh, I wish I weren't!

(They don't hear him; they are still buzzing.)

THE BOY COMES HOME

A COMEDY IN ONE ACT

CHARACTERS.

UNCLE JAMES.
AUNT EMILY.
PHILIP.
MARY.
MRS. HIGGINS.

This play was first produced by Mr. Owen Nares at the Victoria Palace
Theatre on September 9,1918, with the following cast:

Philip--OWEN NARES.
Uncle James--TOM REYNOLDS.
Aunt Emily--DOROTHY RADFORD.
Mary--ADAH DICK.
Mrs. Higgins--RACHEL DE SOLLA.

[SCENE.--A room in UNCLE JAMES'S house in the Cromwell Road.]

[TIME.--The day after the War.]

[Any room in UNCLE JAMES'S house is furnished in heavy mid-Victorian
style; this particular morning-room is perhaps solider and more
respectable even than the others, from the heavy table in the middle of
it to the heavy engravings on the walls. There are two doors to it.
The one at the back opens into the hall, the one at the side into the
dining-room.]

[PHILIP comes from the hall and goes into the dining-room. Apparently he
finds nothing there, for he returns to the morning-room, looks about him
for a moment and then rings the bell. It is ten o'clock, and he wants
his breakfast. He picks up the paper, and sits in a heavy armchair in
front of the fire--a pleasant-looking well-built person of twenty-three,
with an air of decisiveness about him. MARY, the parlour-maid, comes
in.]

MARY. Did you ring, Master Philip?

PHILIP (absently). Yes; I want some breakfast, please, Mary.

MARY (coldly). Breakfast has been cleared away an hour ago.

PHILIP. Exactly. That's why I rang. You can boil me a couple of eggs or
something. And coffee, not tea.

MARY. I'm sure I don't know what Mrs. Higgins will say?

PHILIP (getting up). Who is Mrs. Higgins?

MARY. The cook. And she's not used to being put about like this.

PHILIP. Do you think she'll say something?

MARY. I don't know _what_ she'll say.

PHILIP. You needn't tell me, you know, if you don't want to. Anyway,
I don't suppose it will shock me. One gets used to it in the Army. (He
smiles pleasantly at her.)

MARY. Well, I'll do what I can, sir. But breakf