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824
THE FAITH HEALER
you on your feet, Mary, gives me a new start every time.
Mrs. Beeler. (To Rhoda.) You promise?
(Rhoda bows her head as in assent.)
Martha. Doctor's in the parlor. Shall I bring him in here?
Mrs. Beeler. No. I think I will rest awhile. He can come to my room. (She walks unsteadily. The others try to help her, but she motions them back.) No. It's so good to feel that I can walk alone!
Martha. It does beat all!
Mrs. Beeler. I'll just lie down on the couch. I want to go out, before dark, and speak to the people.
(Mr. Beeler enters from the kitchen and crosses to help his wife. The others give place to him.)
Oh Mat, our good days are coming back! I shall be strong and well for you again.
Beeler. Yes, Mary. There will be nothing to separate us any more.
Mrs. Beeler. (Points at his books.) Not even—them? (He goes to the alcove, takes the books from the shelf, raises the lid of the window-seat, and throws them in. Mrs. Beeler points to the pictures of Darwin and Spencer.) Nor them? (He unpins the pictures, lays them upon the heap of books, and returns to her.) You don't know how happy that makes me!
(They go out by the hall door, Martha, as she lowers the lid of the window-seat, points derisively at the heap.)
Martha. That's a good riddance of bad rubbish! (She comes to the table and continues packing the basket.) You'd better help me with this basket. Them folks will starve to death, if the neighborhood round don't give 'em a bite to eat. (Rhoda fetches other articles from the cupboard.) I'd like to know what they think we are made of, with butter at twenty-five cents a pound and flour worth its weight in diamonds!
Rhoda. All the neighbors are helping, and none of them with our cause for thankfulness.
Martha. That's no sign you should go plasterin' on that butter like you was a bricklayer tryin' to bust the contractor!
(She takes the bread from Rhoda and scrapes the butter thin.)
Rhoda. (As the clock strikes five.) It's time for Aunt Mary to have her tea. Shall I make it?
Martha. You make it! Not unless you want to lay her flat on her back again!
(As she flounces out, Annie enters from the hall. She points with one hand at the retreating Martha, with the other toward her mother's room.)
Annie. (Sings with sly emphasis.)
"Mary an' a' Martha's jus' gone along,
Mary an' a' Martha's jus' gone along,
Mary an' a' Martha's jus' gone along,
Ring dem charmin' bells."
(She climbs upon a chair by the table, and fingers the contents of basket as she sings.)
Rhoda. What's got into you, little imp?
Annie. (Brazenly.) I've been peeping through mamma's keyhole.
Rhoda. That's not nice.
Annie. I know it, but the minister's in there and Dr. Littlefield.
Rhoda. (Startled.) Who?
Annie. You know, mamma's doctor.—Oh, he's never come since you've been here.
Rhoda. (In a changed voice, as she takes the child by the shoulders.) What does he look like?
Annie. Don't, you're hurting me!—He's too red in the face, and looks kind of—insulting—and he wears the most beautiful neckties, and—(Exhausted by her efforts at description.) Oh, I don't know! (She sings as she climbs down, and goes out by the kitchen door.)
"Free grace, undyin' love,
Free grace, undyin' love,
Free grace, undyin' love,
Ring dem lovely bells."
(Dr. Littlefield enters from Mrs. Beeler's room. He speaks back to Beeler on the threshold.)
Littlefield. Don't bother! I'll find it. (Looking for something, he approaches Rhoda, who has her back turned.) Beg pardon. Have you seen a pocket thermometer I left here? (She faces him. He starts back in surprise.) Bless my soul and body! Rhoda Williams! (He closes the hall door, returns to her, and stands somewhat disconcerted.) Here, of all places!
Rhoda. Mrs. Beeler is my aunt.