really is tiresome of Bobbie to have made me ask them, specially as
Uncle Daniel's coming too. They'll be terribly in the way and we shall
have to make conversation instead of listening to Uncle Daniel's
thrilling stories. (_Goes to Chesterfield and tidies papers._)

EVANGELINE. I can't think why you didn't wire and put them off
yesterday.

MRS. DERMOTT. Because Bobbie would have been miserable and sulky.

EVANGELINE. He's very inconsiderate. I don't think you ought to give in
to him so much, mother; it only makes him worse. What he can see in that
tiresome little cat beats me.

JOYCE. She's awfully pretty.

(MRS. DERMOTT _merely takes papers from one place to another, frequently
dropping some, as she is "tidying up."_)

EVANGELINE. And entirely brainless.

JOYCE. Well, we can be thankful that Mrs. Crombie isn't staying over the
week-end. One day of her is bad enough.

MRS. DERMOTT (_tidying papers on form_). You mustn't talk like that,
dear. After all they are our guests and Bobbie's friends, and we must be
kind even if we don't like them very much. (_Picking up waste paper
basket from the front of table._) I'm only worrying because darling
Daniel may be hurt at our having strangers in the house when he arrives.

JOYCE. Oh, Uncle Dan won't mind. He's probably used to face polar bears
and things in his shack.

EVANGELINE. But it seems hard luck to leave raging bears on one side of
the Atlantic and meet Mrs. Crombie on the other.

(JOYCE _goes into screams of laughter and then chokes._)

MRS. DERMOTT (_anxiously_). Darling--do be careful. (_Drops papers and
puts waste paper basket through window_ L.C. _Enter_ BOBBIE
_downstairs._ MRS. DERMOTT _continues to tidy up room._)

BOBBIE. What's the matter?

EVANGELINE. Nothing much, only your crochets and quavers have sent our
little ray of sunshine into a rapid decline.

BOBBIE. Have you done it?

JOYCE (_weakly_). The top treble thing's a little wobbly, but I'll ink
it over afterwards.

(MRS. DERMOTT _is tidying window seat._)

BOBBIE (_kissing her hurriedly and loudly_). Thanks, you're a lamb. I'll
try it now.

EVANGELINE. Oh! Bobbie, don't try it now!

BOBBIE. I shall. (_He goes to piano, then turns furiously._) Well,
really it is the _limit_. Why can't Oliver keep his rotten engine in the
shed. It will scratch all the polish. (_He takes the model off piano and
bangs it on to the floor._)

MRS. DERMOTT. Oh, Bobbie, don't break th