BIJAH (_aside_). Oho! I see where the shoe pinches. (_To_ POLLY.) Why shouldn't I? That's what I'd like to know. One moment you smile upon me, and my blood frantically and joyfully perambulates through my veins; and the next time my eager orbs behold you, an animated iceberg would be a more cheerful companion. You needn't flatter yourself that because you don't want me, no one else does. You can bet your sweet life, Bijah Bright doesn't mean to get left. No, ma'am. (_Taking picture out of pocket._) Not when he has such a sweet face as this to look at. POLLY (_tossing head_). Don't flatter yourself that you can make me jealous. Precious little thought I give to you or your picture. BIJAH. You are just dying to see who it is. POLLY. Indeed, I'm not. Some baby-faced simpleton. BIJAH. Come, Polly, it is too bad for you to treat me so when I returned, hoping to share with you a secret. POLLY. Secret! Oh, tell it to me, do. BIJAH. Oh, no, Miss Primrose; I only make a confidant of my friends. POLLY. Well, I'll be friends for just ten minutes. BIJAH. Will you though? Not by a large majority. No friendship for me on the instalment plan. POLLY. I'll be friends. (_Gives her hand._) Now, tell me quick. BIJAH. Ha, ha, ho, ho! I thought that would fetch it. A woman's curiosity is not fireproof against a volley of gossip. POLLY. If you talk like that, I shall leave the room. BIJAH (_taking her arm; brings her down front_). No, you won't, you are just dying to stay here. (_Holds picture and forces_ POLLY _to look at it_; POLLY _looks at picture, then at_ BIJAH.) POLLY. Oh, Bijah! (_Hides her face on his shoulder._) BIJAH (_laughing_). You had better hide your face, Polly. Jealous of your own picture. That settles it: no more “Nays” for me. We'll give the folks in Oldtown a surprise, Polly, and the wedding shall be in the old church. POLLY. Oh, Bijah! But don't be in a hurry. Be serious and tell me about Mr. Roger. BIJAH. You know how he did old Newcomb up that day in camp? POLLY. Yes, that was the time when Pete was injured and was sent home by the colonel. BIJAH. Wal, Newcomb ain't done for yet. You see, when Mr. Roger was in the bank, I was there too. Of course, I wasn't president or director, Polly; only had to sorter keep my eye on everybody, and I jest did. I saw something that when it's known will be worse than dynamite, you jest bet. POLLY. It seems to me that you are a rolling-stone, Bijah. The last time I heard of you before the war, you were poultry farming in Oldtown. BIJAH. I could not make that work. I had read about the money in raising poultry. Fortunes made in no time; and my fancy pictured this enormous poultry farm. The name of Bijah Bright immortalized. Oh, yes, there's money in it, Polly; for I left all mine there, and had only experience to put in my pocket. POLLY. But what is the wonderful news you have to tell? BIJAH. Just wait. You want to be proud of me. It will be a scorcher.