LYDIA. Having them is part of her religion.
JOE. Well, this is mine. What is yours, Lydia? I don"t believe I ever heard you say.
LYDIA [_shortly_]. I haven"t any.
JOE. Sure enough?
LYDIA [_nodding, then speaking quite slowly_]. I never did anything for any one out of love, and I was never allowed to do anything I wanted to for joy. So I know that I have no religion.
JOE [_embarra.s.sed_]. Never mind. Perhaps that will all come to you some day. [_Joe suddenly sits erect and looks first toward the French door and then toward the window._] I wonder what you will do when I go?
LYDIA [_following the direction of his gaze_]. Where?
JOE. Oh--to college.
LYDIA. Perhaps when you go to college I"ll do something Aunt Harriet doesn"t think is regular.
JOE. What will it be?
LYDIA. How can I know now? How should I want to know?
[_Joe looks over his shoulder toward the rear door of the room._]
LYDIA [_nervously_]. What do you see?
JOE. Nothing--nothing.
LYDIA. Then please stop looking at it.
JOE [_meeting her eyes for the fraction of a moment and then holding up the sheet of paper._] I am actually getting some form into this column.
If I could only learn to design beautiful buildings--
[_He puts his hand to his side in sudden pain._]
LYDIA [_not noting his action_]. Why, of course you will some day.
JOE. I don"t know. Sometimes I"m afraid I won"t get the chance.
LYDIA. Oh, you"ll be a man. You can ride over Aunt Harriet.
[_Joe looks at his copy and crumples it savagely. Suddenly he holds up his hand and listens._]
JOE. What was that bell?
LYDIA. I did not hear any.
JOE. I did.
LYDIA. It must have been the side door. Some one will answer it.
JOE. Do people often come by the side door?
LYDIA. Why, Joe, you know very well that the delivery boy always comes there.
JOE. Delivery?--I wonder--will it be delivery?
LYDIA. Joe, you"re even odder than I am. Stop it. It doesn"t do to have two in the family.
JOE [_laughing_]. Oh, just as you say. [_Looking at the book on his knee_.] What is this big book?
LYDIA. Music.
JOE [_opening the book_]. Why, it has your name in it.
LYDIA. It is my book.
JOE [_in surprise_]. Did you ever play the piano?
LYDIA [_turning aside_]. Yes.
JOE [_his face lighting up_]. Play something now, please.
LYDIA. That piano has been locked for fifteen years.
JOE. Ever since mother died and you and I came here to live?
LYDIA. Yes. Haven"t you ever wondered why it was never open?
JOE. I certainly have. But Aunt Harriet always avoided the subject and I could never get you to say anything about it.
LYDIA. By the time I had tried it for two years, I knew better.
JOE. But why is it locked?
LYDIA. Because I neglected my duties. I played the piano when I should have been studying, and I played when I should have been hemming linen, and I played when I should have been learning psalms.
JOE. But surely when you grew older--when you were through school--
LYDIA. No. I lied to her once about it. She made me promise not to touch the piano, and left it open on purpose to see what I would do.
And I played and she heard me. So when I denied it--[_Shrugging her shoulders._] You see, after that, to have let me go on, playing and undisciplined--why, it would have meant the loss of my soul. [_Very pleasantly._] It would have meant h.e.l.l, at least, Joe dear, and I don"t know what else. Aunt Harriet has always been so careful about what I learned.
JOE [_angrily_]. But surely you are old enough now to do what you want to! I"ll ask her myself if--
LYDIA [_alarmed_]. Oh, no, Joe! Please, please don"t do that. I should be frightened, really. It is a matter of religion with her.
JOE. And don"t you know how to play any longer?
LYDIA. Yes, some. I sneak into the church when no one is there and play on that piano. [_She walks to the instrument, and sitting down before it, rubs her palms lovingly across the closed lid._] When you were away six months ago, this was opened to be tuned for those young cousins of hers who visited. They were lively young girls, and the first thing they did every morning was to go to the piano. They would have asked questions if it had been locked, and Aunt Harriet hates inquisitiveness like poison.