Dormer. (lighting pipe) Thank ye.

     (Kate goes back to R., and puts matches on table.
     Chris. enters from house R., C. carrying a basket
     neatly packed and covered with a white napkin.)
     Chris. (comes down steps to C.) The basket is
     packed, parson. Chicken and jelly, sponge cakes,
     grapes—(seeing Dormer in his coat sleeves) Well,
     I never—!

     Dormer. Have you never seen a man with his
     coat off before?

     Chris. Never a clergyman, sir!

     Kate. Call Gilbert, Christie; he's by the kennel.
     (sitting R.)
     Chris. (goes up through the archway and calls)     Gilbert!

     Kate. Would the sick lady like me to see her,
     parson?

     Dormer. No, she doesn't speak in your language.

     Kate. A foreigner!

     (Gil. enters at bach from R., takes the basket from
     Chris. and comes down R., C. to Kate. Chris.
     drops down L.)
     Gil. I shall bring the keys of the barns and the
     oats house to you to-night, Squire, also my books
     and such like. I should feel happier if you'd take
     them from me.

     Kate. Very well, Gilbert. And as you pass the
     cottages, tell Gunnion, the shepherd, to come to me
     —he will do your duties from to-morrow.

     Gil. Gunnion's a very old man.

     Kate. I know that (looking at him) but it's
     safer.

     (Gil. turns away and goes to Dormer.)
     Gil. Er—is—there—any message—with the
     basket?

     Dormer. No—I'll follow you when I've smoked
     my pipe.

     Gil. (rests his gun against the R., side of the
     arch. To Chris.) I'll come back for the gun,
     Christie.

     (Chris. goes into outhouse L.)
     (As Gil. walks through the archway, Lieutenant
     Thorndyke passes him with a careless nod.)
     Eric. (to Gil.) Hello, Hythe! Playing at Little
     Red Riding Hood? Mind the wolf. (Gil. looks
     angrily at him, and goes off L., Eric comes down;
     he is a handsome young fellow with an indolent
     manner. Crossing to Kate) How do you do, Squire?

     Kate. (carelessly) What brings you here?

     Eric. Strolled over from barracks—doctor says
     I must walk, and your place is somewhere to
     walk to.

     Kate. Do you know Mr. Dormer?

     Eric. (turning to Dor.) No, but my mother
     does. How do you do? (Eric shakes hands with
     Dormer. Dor. draws his hand away quickly and
     puts his hand in trousers pocket) Mrs. Thorndyke
     is a parishioner of yours, Mr. Dormer—her son ought
     to know a little of you.

     Dormer. If her son attended his church regularly,
     he would know a little of me.

     Eric. So my mother says. And you're not afraid
     of catching cold?

     Dormer. No, sir! I am not. (irritably) Have
     you never seen a man with his coat off?

     Eric. I beg your pardon—never a clergyman.

     (Kate has finished mending the coat and has risen.
     Eric takes out his cigar case.)
     (offering it to Dormer) Smoke a cigar, parson?

     Kate. (catching his arm) No! (confused) I—
     I like to see the parson with a pipe, (aside) He
     mustn't see that! (she points to the inside flap of
     the case, which is worked with an inscription in silk,
     and crosses behind Eric to Dormer)
     Eric. (aside—reading inscription) "Kate's love
     to Eric." Oh! by Jove, I forgot! (he crams cigar
     case hurriedly into his pocket; Kate crosses to Dor.
     L. C. with coat. Eric saunters over to garden seat R.
     and sits. Kate assists Dor. to put on his coat)
     Eric. (lazily) I really must give up walking,
     I'm quite knocked up.

     Dormer. The British officer seems very easily
     knocked up.

     (Kate gets L., behind table.)
     Eric. The British officer, at whose expense so
     many people make merry, is a mild creature in
     "piping times of peace"—no offence to the clay,
     parson.

     (Eric lights a cigar. Dor. crosses to R., C., to speak
     to him. Kate looks on anxiously, fearing a
     quarrel.)
     Dormer. And in times of war, sir?

     Eric. The British officer, I am credibly informed,
     is a demon when roused, (putting his legs up on
     garden seat) I have never been roused. You don't
     like my profession, parson?

     Dormer. No, sir, I do not.

     Eric. I often wish my mother had made me a
     parson.

     Dormer. Why, sir?

     Eric. Because, sir, a clergyman is the only man
     in the world privileged to be rude on the subject of
     another person's calling.

     (Kate approaches them.)
     Dormer. A clergyman, sir, is a professional
     truth-teller.

     Eric. I've known a common soldier to be a practical
     one.

     Dormer. I recognize no profession which creates
     idlers.

     Eric. My dear parson, it is the most industrious
     people who never really do anything. After all, the
     bees only make honey—and how exceedingly well
     everybody could get on without honey.

     Dormer. An idler, sir, often does mischief
     against his will!

     Kate. (laying her hand on his sleeve) Mr. Dormer,
     don't.

     Dormer. And brings evil into a region where the
     very purity of the air nourishes it! Mr. Thorndyke,
     beware of idling! Miss Verity, beware of idlers.
     Good-day, sir. (crosses to table L., for hat, and then
     goes up to archway. Kate gets to R., of him)
     Eric. (closing his eyes with fatigue) Must you
     really go? (takes out "Sporting Times")
     Kate. (soothingly) You'll come again, Mr.
     Dormer—some day, when Mr. Thorndyke isn't here.

     Dormer. (in an undertone) If I come again, see
     that it be then.

     Kate. What do you mean?

     Dormer. (putting his hand on her shoulder)     Years ago, Kate Verity, I closed one book for ever—
     it was called "Woman." As I see the tide ebb and
     flow, without passion, so I watch a woman in her
     rise and in her fall with a still heart—they are both
     beyond me. Mark me, I care no more for you, as a
     woman, than for the beggars in our High Street;
     but, for the sake of the charities which stand to the
     account of one Squire Kate, I throw into the current
     a small pebble.

     Kate. (in an undertone) What is that? (keeps
     her eyes on Eric)