Franklin (looking at MR. CANDY, who is enjoying his pie). You eat it yourself! (He examines the pie.) It looks delicious. How softly the truffles repose on their gamy bed! How persuasively they say: "Why don't you eat us?" (He tastes the pie. GODFREY has attended to RACHEL and MISS CLACK in the meantime. MISS CLACK addresses MR. CANDY. As the conversation proceeds, FRANKLIN finishes his pie, and helps himself to wine.)
Miss Clack (severely). Mr. Candy!
Mr. Candy. Yes, Miss Clack?
Miss Clack. Miss Rachel was speaking of the neighbourhood just now. I have my doubts of the neighbourhood. (Taking up her glass.) I thought I saw a beer-shop on our way from the station.
Mr. Candy (filling his glass). If you had known where to look, you might have seen a dozen.
Miss Clack (finishing her champagne). How unspeakably dreadful! Rachel! Do you hear that? A neighbourhood of beer-drinkers all round this beautiful house. And that neighbourhood your property!
Rachel. What am I to do?
Miss Clack (with enthusiasm). Establish branch connections with our London institutions. Grapple with beer-drinking in its domestic results! Set up a Mothers'-Small-Clothes-Conversion-Society! (RACHEL, FRANKLIN, and MR. CANDY look at each other.)
Godfrey (softly rattling his knife-handle on the table). Hear! hear!
Franklin (looking up from his plate). What does the Society do, Miss Clack?
Miss Clack (severely). The Mothers'-Small-Clothes-Conversion-Society, sir, rescues unredeemed fathers' trousers from the pawnbroker, and prevents their resumption on the part of the irreclaimable parent, by abridging them to suit the proportions of the innocent son. (GODFREY applauds again with his knife-handle.)
Franklin. What becomes of the trouserless fathers, Miss Clack?
Miss Clack (sternly). A properly-constituted mind doesn't dwell, Mr. Blake, on a trouserless father. Dear Mr. Godfrey, use your eloquence to persuade Rachel! The Mothers'-Small-Clothes is particularly rich in material just now. I may truly describe our struggling sisterhood as being quite overwhelmed with trousers!
Godfrey (pathetically).Too true! too true!
Rachel. My dear Drusilla, I don't understand these things. If you like to start the institution, you have my full permission to do so.
Miss Clack (clapping her hands). Oh, thank you, dearest! Oh, how happy you have made me! (BETTEREDGE enters with the second bottle of champagne, and makes straight for MISS CLACK.) Yes, Mr. Betteredge. One more little glass to drink success to the new institution.
Betteredge (confidentially). Dry, as before, miss. (He fills her glass, and then fills the glasses of the rest of the company.)
Miss Clack. May I propose a toast? May I, without impropriety, place myself, for one little moment, in a public position? Success to the Branch-Mothers'-Small-Clothes-Conversion-Society!
Franklin (repeating the toast). Success to the Branch-Mothers'-Small-Clothes-Conversion-Society! (aside.) And may the wind be tempered to the shorn fathers! (BETTEREDGE, who has been waiting his opportunity of speaking to FRANKLIN, now approaches him, and speaks confidentially.)
Betteredge. I say, Mr. Franklin, when are you going to show Miss Rachel the Moonstone?
Franklin (starting). Good heavens, I had completely forgotten it! Rachel! (RACHEL approaches him.) Prepare yourself for a great surprise. You have heard of your uncle, the Colonel?
Rachel. I have some vague remembrance of his behaving badly to my poor mother, and of his being celebrated as the possessor of a famous diamond.
Franklin. The Colonel is dead, Rachel, and the famous Moonstone is left to you by his will. The official announcement of it is among your letters in that drawer. And here is the diamond itself. (He offers the box to RACHEL.)
Rachel (amazed).What!
Betteredge (very earnestly, aside to RACHEL). Don't take it, miss!
Rachel (taking the jewel-box from FRANKLIN). Not take it? (To FRANKLIN.) What does he mean?
Franklin. Betteredge is superstitious--
Betteredge (indignantly interrupting him). I'm nothing of the sort, Mr. Franklin! I only say the wicked Colonel's diamond will bring ill-luck to Miss Rachel and to everybody in the house. Is that superstition? It's nothing of the sort--it's reason founded on experience! (They all laugh. RACHEL opens the box. GODFREY, MISS CLACK, and MR. CANDY all look at the diamond.)
Rachel. Oh, heavens! the lovely thing!
Godfrey (softly). Exquisite! exquisite!
Miss Clack. Vanity! vanity!
Mr. Candy. Carbon--mere carbon!
Rachel. How shall I have it set? As a bracelet or as a brooch? Look at the wonderful light in it--the lovely radiant glow, like the light of the harvest moon!
Franklin (showing her how to hold it). It takes its name from that light, Rachel. Bring it here, into the dark corner, and hold it as I tell you, and the glow will be brighter still.
Rachel (delighted). Come, Drusilla! Betteredge, you may see it too. (RACHEL and MISS CLACK follow FRANKLIN to the back of the hall.)
Betteredge (alone, in front). I am much obliged to you, miss. A little of that unlucky jewel goes a long way with me! (In a lower tone.) I'll mark it on my almanac. The wicked Colenel's vengeance begins tonight. (He goes out.) (MR. CANDY and GODFREY are left together in front. MR. CANDY looks at his watch. GODFREY observes him.)
Godfrey. You are not going yet?
Mr. Candy. I must go soon. I have an interesting case in the town. A London doctor has heard of it, and is coming to see the patient by the night express.
Godfrey. Is the malady serious? (Shrinking from MR. CANDY.) Nothing infectious, I hope?
Mr. Candy. Make your mind easy. It's a case of somnambulism. A lad, who has never been known before to walk in his sleep, has surprised everybody by turning sleep-walker at the age of seventeen.
Godfrey. Very remarkable! Have you discovered the cause?
Mr. Candy. I think so. Like Mr. Blake there, my patient was not accustomed to eating supper, and he was tempted to try the experiment by some friends. He eat heartily, and he afterwards drank spirits, which he was not in the habit of doing either. There was no drunkenness, mind! After one glass of grog each the party rose from table, and adjourned to another room for a little music. The lad followed them, and sang too. Some strangers were present at the concert. He was introduced to them, and made his bow with perfect politeness. Conversation followed the music. Our young fellow joined in, and began to talk in an odd, absent way, mixing up his own affairs with the subject under discussion. Most of the party thought the poor wretch must be a little tipsy. One of them, rougher than the rest, gave him a shake, by way of sobering him, I suppose. He jumped up with a scream of terror, and looked about him in the wildest confusion. In plain English, he woke!
Godfrey. What! had he been asleep all the time?
Mr. Candy. Fast asleep and dreaming, with his eyes open!
Godfrey. After only eating supper?
Mr. Candy. No! no! after eating when he was not accustomed to eat, and drinking what he was not accustomed to drink.