The Drone | Page 3

I don't know, uncle. You see that would be five times now, and somehow you never seem to get anything done. That's what he said, mind you, uncle.
DANIEL (mournfully). Well! Well! To think of me toiling and moiling away in that workshop of mine, day after day, and week after week, and year after year--and there's all the thanks you get for it.
MARY. Uncle?
DANIEL (somewhat irritably as he gets engrossed reading). Well?
MARY. Look, if you went up to Belfast again soon, won't you see that boy? I wonder what he's like. (She gets close beside her uncle and nestles beside him.) Is he dark or fair?
DANIEL. Yes, yes. I think so.
MARY. Dark?
DANIEL. Yes. I believe he is dark.
MARY. And tall?
DANIEL (trying vainly to read in spite of the interruptions). Very tall.
MARY. Oh, how nice! And uncle, is he good-looking?
DANIEL. Very. Fine looking fellow.
MARY. That's grand; and uncle, is he well to do?
DANIEL. He has every appearance of it.
MARY. Oh you dear old uncle! (She nestles closer to him.) But maybe he wouldn't look at me when he has a whole lot of town girls to go with.
DANIEL. My dear niece, you don't know what a very good-looking young lady you are, and besides he saw your photograph.
MARY. Which photograph?
DANIEL (perplexed). Which photograph? Your own of course!
MARY. The one I got taken at Lurgan?
DANIEL. Yes. I think so.
MARY. Oh uncle! That horrid thing! Why didn't you show him the one I got taken at Newcastle?
DANIEL. My mistake. Very sorry, indeed, Mary, I assure you. But I tell you what, I'll take the album with me next time. Will that do?
MARY (laughing). There. Now you're only joking. (Suddenly.) What do you do all the time you stay in Belfast, uncle?
DANIEL (uneasily). Um--um----Business, my dear girl, business. See engineers and all that sort of thing, and talk things over. It takes time, you know, Mary, time.
MARY. You've been an awful long time inventing, uncle, haven't you?
DANIEL. Well, you know, Mary dear--time--it takes time. You can't rush an inventor.
MARY. Well look, uncle. You know I can just wheedle father round my wee finger, can't I?
DANIEL. You can indeed.
MARY. Well, look: if you promise to bring down this boy you are talking about, I'll get father to give you enough to have two weeks in Belfast. There. It's a bargain.
DANIEL. Um--well--he may not be there you know.
MARY (disappointed). O uncle!
DANIEL. You see he travels a lot and he may be away. He may be in London. In fact I think--yes. He said he would be going to London.
MARY. Then why not go to London?
DANIEL (starting up and speaking as if struck with delight at the possibility). Eh? I never thought of that! (He collapses again.) But no. Your father, Mary. He would never give me the money. No.
MARY. But you're more likely to meet people there who'd take it up, aren't you, uncle?
DANIEL. It's the place for an inventor to go, Mary. The place. (Pauses.) But I'm afraid when John hears about it----(he becomes very dubious and shakes his head).
MARY. Well, look here, uncle. Do you mind the last time when he would not give you money to go up to Belfast about your patent.
DANIEL (sadly). I do.
MARY. You remember you got a letter a few days after asking you to come up at once and you had to go then. Hadn't you?
DANIEL. I had.
MARY. Well, couldn't we do the same this time?
DANIEL (looking at her uneasily). Eh?
MARY. Couldn't we get someone to send a letter. (Pausing and thinking, then suddenly). Oh, the very thing! You know that silly Alick McCready that comes running after me. Well, look, I'll get him to send a letter.
DANIEL. No good, my dear. I did it before----I mean letters on plain notepaper don't carry much weight. No.
MARY. What about----oh, I know! Uncle, a telegram!
DANIEL. Great idea! It is in soul!
MARY. And we'll put something on it like "come to London at once to see about the patent," or something like that. And he'd have to let you go then.
DANIEL. Mary, you're really a cleverer girl than your father thinks. (Musingly.) Two weeks in London.
MARY. And don't forget the nice boy, uncle, when you go.
DANIEL. I'll do my best to get hold of him.
MARY. No. I want a good definite promise. Promise, uncle.
DANIEL. Well, really you know, my dear, he----
MARY. Uncle, promise.
DANIEL. Um----well, I promise.
MARY. You're a dear old thing. You see, uncle, I don't want to marry Alick McCready or Jim McDowell or any of those boys, unless there's nobody else.
DANIEL. Quite right, my dear, quite right. Two weeks in London. Splendid! But it's time I was going into my workshop. (He rises and takes the paper with him.) I must really try and do something this morning. (Exit by workshop door.)
MARY (calling after him). You won't forget, uncle?