_March._ It’s coming, it’s coming! Hold me, somebody! Hold me, especially my head, for I hear strange sounds! I hear the roll of carriage-wheels, and oh, there’s a piebald horse gave me a thundering kick in the head! What did he say? “one of these boys must be his lost son.” So, so! he’s got a lost son; and I’ve got a lost father, somewhere. I shouldn’t wonder if we found out we were related. I’ve seen quite a resemblance between Mr. Raymond and myself,--the same aristocratic air. Suppose it should be--oh! it must be,--I never could have been left out in that cold sand, hungry and wet, for nothing. Won’t it be gay? I long for the time when he will disclose himself. I knew he never could have come to this desolate spot for nothing. And now it’s all out. (_Enter MRS. G., L._)
_Mrs. Gale._ Yes, it is all out, you lazy scamp! Didn’t I tell you to put the wood on the fire?
_March._ (_Picking up wood he dropped._) Now, don’t scold, Mother Gale. There’s a fire here (_hand on heart_).
_Mrs. Gale_ (_at fireplace_). I tell you, there’s no fire here. What are you thinking of?
_March_ (_placing wood on fire_). “I dreamt that I dwelt in marble halls.”
_Mrs. Gale._ Marble fiddlesticks! O March, March! you’ll never set the river afire!
_March._ Won’t I, Mother Gale? You may be sure of one thing: I shan’t try in a hurry. Shall I tell her? no; I will keep silence, least I interfere with his plans. (_Enter KITTY, L._)
_Kitty._ Oh, dear! oh, dear! I’ve cut my finger with those plaguey taters.
_March._ Dear me, Kitty! you are always in trouble.
_Kitty._ Well, I couldn’t help it. My hands were never made to peel taters.
_March._ No, indeed, they wa’nt. Here, let me fix it for you (_wraps cloth round it_). You shan’t do it again. Fortune has at last smiled upon me: I shall soon be rich, and then--
_Mrs. Gale._ How long must I wait for the pertaters?
_Kitty._ Oh, dear! I wish they were in the sea (_goes to door, C._). O March, look here, quick! There’s a yacht coming round the point. Isn’t she a beauty?
_March._ My eyes! look at her! A gentleman’s yacht, and headed this way.
_Mrs. Gale._ Mercy sakes! More visitors. Who can it be? (_All exit, C. Enter RAYMOND, R._)
_Ray._ Confusion! That confounded Capt Dandelion, to escape whom I fled to this out-of-the-way place, is almost at the door in his yacht. His pursuit of Kate is persistent; and, but that I knew the utter selfishness of the man, I could honor him for the apparently unwearied patience with which he follows her. (_Enter KATE and SEPT., C._) Well, child, you have heard of the new arrival?