The Major and Mr. Rogers are but passing shadows in the play, and even
nice Laura is only to flit across its few pages for a moment on her way
to happier things. We scarcely notice them in the presence of Mrs. Don,
the gracious, the beautiful, the sympathetic, whose magnetic force and
charm are such that we wish to sit at her feet at once. She is
intellectual, but with a disarming smile, religious, but so charitable,
masterful, and yet loved of all. None is perfect, and there must be a
flaw in her somewhere, but to find it would necessitate such a rummage
among her many adornments as there is now no time for. Perhaps we may
come upon it accidentally in the course of the play.
She is younger than Mr. Don, who, despite her efforts for many years to
cover his deficiencies, is a man of no great account in a household
where the bigger personality of his wife swallows him like an Aaron's
rod. Mr. Don's deficiencies! She used to try very hard, or fairly hard,
to conceal them from Dick; but Dick knew. His mother was his chum. All
the lovely things which happened in that house in the days when Dick was
alive were between him and her; those two shut the door softly on old
Don, always anxious not to hurt his feelings, and then ran into each
other's arms.
In the better light Mr. Don is now able to read his paper if he chooses.
If he has forgotten the party at the table, they have equally forgotten
him.
MRS. DON. 'You have not gone away, have you? We must be patient. Are you
still there?'
ROGERS. 'I think I felt a movement.'
MRS. DON. 'Don't talk, please. Are you still there?'
The table moves.
'Yes! It is your mother who is speaking; do you understand that?'
The table moves.
'Yes. What shall I ask him now?'
ROGERS. 'We leave it to you, Mrs. Don.'
MRS. DON. 'Have you any message you want to send us? Yes. Is it
important? Yes. Are we to spell it out in the usual way? Yes. Is the
first letter of the first word A? Is it B?'
She continues through the alphabet to L, when the table responds.
Similarly she finds that the second letter is O.
'Is the word _Love_? Yes. But I don't understand that movement. You
are not displeased with us, are you? No. Does the second word begin with
A?--with B? Yes.'
The second word is spelt out _Bade_ and the third _Me_.
'Love Bade Me----If it is a quotation, I believe I know it! Is the
fourth word _Welcome_? Yes.'
LAURA. 'Love Bade Me Welcome.'
MRS. DON. 'That movement again! Don't you want me to go on?'
LAURA. 'Let us stop.'
MRS. DON. 'Not unless he wishes it. Why are those words so important?
Does the message end there? Is any one working against you? Some one
antagonistic? Yes. Not one of ourselves surely? No. Is it any one we
know? Yes. Can I get the name in the usual way? Yes. Is the first letter
of this person's name A?--B?----'
It proves to be F. One begins to notice a quaint peculiarity of Mrs.
Don's. She is so accustomed to homage that she expects a prompt response
even from the shades.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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