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 n.o.body 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? Will you?

DANIEL. No, certainly not.

MARY. I do hope uncle brings that nice boy. Dark--tall--well set up--well to do.

(KATE _comes in again through the yard door, and looks at_ MARY, _who is gazing vacantly into s.p.a.ce._)

KATE. Well? What notion have you got now?

MARY. Oh! just think, Kate! How would you like a boy who was dark and tall, and well set up and well to do?

KATE. I'd just leap at him.

MARY (_laughing_). Agh! I don't think he'll ever come, Kate!

KATE. I think you've plenty on hand to manage. (BROWN _opens the yard door and resumes his old-position from which he stares at the dresser_). You're back again, are you?

BROWN. Aye.

KATE. What ails you now?

BROWN. I'm looking the spanner.

MARY. The spanner?

BROWN. The spanner, Miss Mary. It's for turning the nuts like.

KATE. Have you never got it yet?

BROWN. Do you think I've got eyes in the back of my head? Underneath the seat, beside the salt-box, on the right near the wee crock in the left hand corner. (_He makes a movement to open one of the drawers of the dresser._)

KATE. Will you get out of that, ignorance. It's not there.

BROWN (_with an appealing look at_ MARY). Maybe its in the parlour?

MARY. Well, I'll take a look round. (_She goes through the door to living rooms._)

BROWN (_mysteriously_). Did you hear the news?

KATE. No. (_Very much interested._) What?

BROWN. Ach! You women never know anything.

KATE. What's the news? Somebody killed?

BROWN. No. More serious.

KATE (_alarmed_). G.o.d bless me! What is it?

BROWN. Andy McMinn has a sister.

KATE (_disappointed_). Ach!

BROWN. And she's trying to get a man.

KATE. Well. I knowed that this years.