)
MELISANDE. Did you call me, Mother?
MRS. KNOWLE. Three times, darling. Didn't you hear me?
MELISANDE. I am sorry, Mother, I was thinking of other things.
MRS. KNOWLE. You think too much, dear. You remember what the great
poet tells us. "Do noble things, not dream them all day long."
Tennyson, wasn't it? I know I wrote it in your album for you when you
were a little girl. It's so true.
MELISANDE. Kingsley, Mother, not Tennyson.
JANE (nodding). Kingsley, that's right.
MRS. KNOWLE. Well, it's the same thing. I know when _my_ mother used
to call me I used to come running up, saying, "What is it, Mummy,
darling?" And even if it was anything upstairs, like a handkerchief or
a pair of socks to be mended, I used to trot off happily, saying to
myself, "Do noble things, not dream them all day long."
MELISANDE. I am sorry, Mother. What is the noble thing you want doing?
MRS. KNOWLE. Well now, you see, I've forgotten. If only you'd come at
once, dear--
MELISANDE. I was looking out into the night. It's a wonderful night.
Midsummer Night.
MRS. KNOWLE. Midsummer Night. And now I suppose the days will start
drawing in, and we shall have winter upon us before we know where we
are. All these changes of the seasons are very inconsiderate to an
invalid.
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