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was free. You remember Annamarie, James?--let to come and go as she pleased. God knows where she is now ... and here is William with the poor old grandmother.... Run along with the flowers, William. [_Gives_ WILLIAM _some pennies as he goes._] How he shoots up, eh, Marta?

MARTA. [_With the hopeless sorrow of the old, as she passes off._] Poor child ... poor child.

PETER. Give Katie more freedom, eh? Oh, no! I shall guard her as I would guard my own, for she is as dear to me as though she were mine, and, by marriage, please God, she shall be a Grimm in _name_.

JAMES. Mr. Grimm, I--I wish you would transfer me to your branch house in Florida.

PETER. What? You who were so glad to come back! James, you need a holiday. Close your desk. Go out and busy yourself with those pet vegetables of yours. Change your ideas; then come back sane and sensible, and attend to your work. [_Giving a last shot at_ JAMES _as he passes into the office and_ FREDERIK _re-enters._] You don't know what you want!

FREDERIK. [_Looking after_ JAMES.] Uncle Peter, when I came in this morning, I made up my mind to speak to you of James.

PETER. James?

FREDERIK. Yes, I've wondered lately if ... it seems to me that James is interested in Catherine.

PETER. James? Impossible.

FREDERIK. I'm not so sure.

PETER. [_Good-naturedly._] James? James Hartman?

FREDERIK. When I look back and remember him as a barefoot boy living in a shack behind our hot-houses--and see him now--in here with you--

PETER. All the more credit, Frederik.

FREDERIK. Yes; but these are the sort of fellows who dream of getting into the firm. And there are more ways than one.

PETER. Do you mean to say--He wouldn't presume to think of such a thing.

FREDERIK. Oh, wouldn't he! The class to which he belongs presumes to think of anything. I believe he has been making love to Catherine.

PETER. [_After a slight pause, goes to the dining-room door and calls._] Katie! Katie!

FREDERIK. [_Hastily._] Don't say that I mentioned it. [CATHERINE _enters._

PETER. Katie, I wish to ask you a question. I--[_He laughs._] Oh, it's absurd. No, no, never mind.

CATHERINE. What is it?

PETER. I can't ask you. It's really too absurd.

CATHERINE. [_Her curiosity aroused._] What is it, Uncle?... Tell me ... tell me....

PETER. Has James ever--

CATHERINE. [_Taken back and rather frightened--quickly._] No....

PETER. What?... How did you know what I ... [FREDERIK _gives her a shrewd glance; but_ PETER, _suspecting nothing, continues._] I meant ... has James shown any special interest in you?

CATHERINE. [_As though accepting the explanation._] Oh ... [_Flurried._] Why, Uncle Peter!... Uncle Peter!... whatever put this notion into your head?

PETER. It's all nonsense, of course, but--

CATHERINE. I've always known James.... We went to school together.... James has shown no interest he ought not to have shown, Uncle Peter,--if that's what you mean. He has always been very respectful in a perfectly friendly way.

PETER. [_Convinced._] Respectful in a perfectly friendly way. [_To_ FREDERIK.] You can't ask more than that. Thank you, dear, that's all I wanted. Run along. [_Glad to escape,_ CATHERINE _leaves the room._] He was only respectful in a perfectly friendly way. [_Slaps_ FREDERIK _on the back._] You're satisfied now, I hope?

FREDERIK. No, I am not. If _she_ hasn't noticed what he has in mind, _I_ have. When I came into this room a few moments ago,--it was as plain as day. He's trying to make love to her under our very eyes. I saw him. I wish you would ask him to stay in his office and attend to his own business. [JAMES _now re-enters on his way to the gardens._]

PETER. James, it has just occurred to me--that--[_James pauses._] What was your reason for wanting to give up your position? Had it anything to do with my little girl?

JAMES. Yes, sir.

PETER. You mean that--you--you love her?

JAMES. [_In a low voice._] Yes, sir.

PETER. O-ho! [FREDERIK _gives_ PETER _a glance as though to say, "Now, do you believe it?"_

JAMES. But she doesn't know it, of course; she never would have known it. I never meant to say a word to her. I understand, sir.

PETER. James! Come here ... here!... [_Bringing_ JAMES _up before him at the desk._] Get your money at the office. You may have that position in Florida. Good-bye, James.

JAMES. I'm very sorry that ... Good-bye, sir.

FREDERIK. You are not to tell her that you're going. You're not to bid her good-bye.

PETER. [_To_ FREDERIK.] Sh! Let me attend to--

JAMES. [_Ignoring_ FREDERIK.] I'm sorry, Mr. Grimm, that-- [_His voice falters._

PETER. [_Rising._] James, I'm sorry, too. You've grown up here and--Tc! Tc! Good fortune to you--James. Get this notion out of your head, and perhaps one day you'll come back to us. We shall see. [_Shakes hands with_ JAMES, _who leaves the room too much overcome to speak._

DR. MACPHERSON. [_Who has entered, saying carelessly to_ JAMES _as he passes him._] Hy're you, Jim? Glad Jim's back. One of the finest lads I ever brought into this world.

_The_ DOCTOR _is a man of about_ PETER'S _age, but more powerfully built. He has the bent shoulders of the student and his face is exceedingly intellectual. He is the rare type of doctor who forgets to make out his bills. He has a grizzled grey beard, and his hair is touched with grey. He wears silver-rimmed spectacles. His substantial but unpressed clothing is made by the village tailor._

PETER. Good-morning, Andrew.

FREDERIK. Good-morning, Doctor.

DR. MACPHERSON. [_Casts a quick, professional glance at_ PETER.] Peter, I've come over to have a serious word with you. Been on my mind all night. [_Brings down a chair and sits opposite_ PETER.] I--er--Frederik ... [FREDERIK, _who is not a favourite of the_ DOCTOR'S, _takes the hint and leaves the room_.] Peter, have you provided for everybody in this house?

PETER. What? Have I--

DR. MACPHERSON. You're a terrible man for planning, Peter; but what have you done? [_Casually_.] Were you to die,--say to-morrow,--how would it be with--[_Making a gesture to include the household_.]--the rest of them?

PETER. What do you mean? If I were to die to-morrow ...

DR. MACPHERSON. You won't. Don't worry. Good for a long time yet, but every one must come to it--sooner or later. I mean--what would Katie's position be in this house? I know you've set your heart upon her marrying Frederik, and all that sort of nonsense, but will it work? I've always thought 'twas a pity Frederik wasn't James and James wasn't Frederik.

PETER. What!

DR. MACPHERSON. Oh, it's all very well if she wants Frederik, but supposing she does not. Peter, if you mean to do something for her--do it _now_.

PETER. Now? You mean that I--You mean that I might ... die?

DR. MACPHERSON. All can and do.

PETER. [_Studying the_ DOCTOR'S _face_.] You think ...

DR. MACPHERSON. The machinery is wearing out, Peter. Thought I should tell you. No cause for apprehension, but--

PETER. Then why tell me?

DR. MACPHERSON. When I cured you of that cold--wet flowerbeds--two days ago, I made a discovery. [_Seeing_ CATHERINE _enter, he pauses. She is followed by_ MARTA, _carrying a tray containing coffee and a plate of waffles_.] Coffee! I told you not to touch coffee, Peter. It's rank poison.

CATHERINE. Wouldn't you like a cup, Doctor?

PETER. Yes he'll take a cup. He won't prescribe it, but he'll drink it.

DR. MACPHERSON. [_Horrified_.] And hot waffles between meals!

PETER. Yes, he'll take hot waffles, too. [MARTA _goes to get another plate and more waffles, and_ CATHERINE _follows her_.] Now, Andrew, you can't tell me that I'm sick. I won't have it. Every day we hear of some old boy one hundred years of age who was given up by the doctors at twenty. No, sir! I'm going to live to see children in my house,--Katie's babies creeping on my old floor; playing with my old watch-dog, Toby. I've promised myself a long line of rosy Grimms.

DR. MACPHERSON. My God, Peter! That dog is fifteen years old now. Do you expect nothing to change in your house? Man, you're a home worshipper. However, I--I see no reason why--[_Lying_.]you shouldn't reach a ripe old age. [_Markedly, though feigning to treat the subject lightly_.] Er-- Peter, I should like to make a compact with you ... that whoever _does_ go first--and you're quite likely to outlive me,--is to come back and let the other fellow know ... and settle the question. Splendid test between old neighbours--real contribution to science.

PETER. Make a compact to--stuff and nonsense!

DR. MACPHERSON. Don't be too sure of that.

PETER. No, Andrew, no, positively, no. I refuse. Don't count upon me for any assistance in your spook tests.

DR. MACPHERSON. And how many times do you think _you've_ been a spook yourself? You can't tell me that man is perfect; that he doesn't live more than one life; that the soul doesn't go on and on. Pshaw! The persistent personal energy must continue, or what _is_ God? [CATHERINE _has re-entered with another cup, saucer and plate which she sets on the table, and pours out the coffee._

CATHERINE. [_Interested_.] Were you speaking of--of ghosts, Doctor?

PETER. Yes, he has begun again. [_To_ CATHERINE.] You're just in time to hear it. [_To_ DR. MACPHERSON.] Andrew, I'll stay behind, contented in _this_ life; knowing what I have here on earth, and you shall die and return with your--ha!--persistent personal whatever-it-is, and keep the spook compact. Every time a knock sounds, or a chair squeaks, or the door bangs, I shall say, "Sh! There's the Doctor!"

CATHERINE. [_Noticing a book which the_ DOCTOR _has taken from his pocket, and reading the title_.] "Are the Dead Alive?"

DR. MACPHERSON. I'm in earnest, Peter. _I'll_ promise and I want you to promise, too. Understand that I am not a so-called spiritist. I am merely a seeker after truth. [_Puts more sugar in his coffee_.

PETER. That's what they _all_ are--seekers after truth. Rubbish! Do you really believe such stuff?

DR. MACPHERSON. I know that the dead are alive. They're here--here--near us--close at hand. [PETER, _in derision, lifts the table-cloth and peeps under the table--then, taking the lid off the sugar-bowl, peers into it_.] Some of the great scientists of the day are of the same opinion.

PETER. Bah! Dreamers! They accomplish nothing in the world. They waste their lives dreaming of the world to come.

DR. MACPHERSON. You can't call Sir Charles Crookes, the inventor of Crookes Tubes,--a waster? Nor Sir Oliver Lodge, the great biologist; nor Curie, the discoverer of radium; nor Doctor Lombroso, the founder of Science of Criminology; nor Doctors Maxwell, deVesme, Richet, Professor James, of Harvard, and our own Professor Hyslop. Instead of laughing at ghosts, the scientific men of to-day are trying to lay hold of them. The frauds and cheats are being crowded from the field. Science is only just peeping through the half-opened door which was shut until a few years ago.

PETER. If ever I see a ghost, I shall lay violent hands upon it and take it to the police station. That's the proper place for frauds.

DR. MACPHERSON. I'm sorry, Peter, very sorry, to see that you, like too many others, make a jest of the most important thing in life. Hyslop is right: man will spend millions to discover the North
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