High Society Page #4

WILLY:

Well, imagine that.

LIZZY:

Father of the bride.

We'll use it to head the article.

WILLY:

I'm afraid you got my bad side.

LIZZY:

I'm sure you have no bad side, Mr. Lord.

WILLY:

I like her.

LIZZY:

Now, I'll have a drink, if I may.

TRACY:

How clumsy of me. I could die.

I'll bet it's ruined.

BING:

I'd like a piece of your bet.

TRACY:

Is it broken?

LIZZY:

Probably.

TRACY:

Whatever will you do?

LIZZY:

I carry a spare.

BUTLER:

Luncheon is served.

MORHER:

Thank you, Edward.

Shall we go in?

We're all famished, I'm sure.

Bring your drinks.

GEORGE:

Sweetie.

WILLY:

I haven't got a drink.

BING:

Have some schnapps, Pops.

When you look at this wonderful family

do you wonder what you've done

to deserve it?

WILLY:

I do indeed, my boy.

Every morning I look into the mirror

and I say to myself:

"Seth Lord, what in the world

have you done to deserve this?"

LIZZY:

And what have you done?

WILLY:

I beg your pardon? Oh, not a thing.

FRANK:

It's a fine place you have.

Build it yourself?

WILLY:

Of course. Brick by brick.

Quite an undertaking, you know. I --

And it would appear that each brick

Is about to fall upon me.

BING:

Tracy, your Uncle Willie is here.

TRACY:

My what?

BING:

Aren't you gonna greet Uncle Willie?

TRACY:

Uncle Willie!

Uncle Willie!

Father, what are you doing here?

FATHER:

I have a right to be here.

TRACY:

You're Uncle Willie, understand?

FATHER:

No. I don't.

TRACY:

I'll explain later.

Look, everybody

isn't it nice of Uncle Willie

to surprise us?

Miss Imbrie, Mr. Connor,

This is my Uncle Willie.

------

LIZZY:

Were you, by any chance,

playing footsie with me at lunch?

FRANK:

From where I sat?

LIZZY:

I didn't think your reach was that good.

Seth Lord has a roving eye. And foot.

FRANK:

Elegant junk.

LIZZY:

It's shiny.

Would I trade places with Miss Tracy Lord

for all her wealth and beauty?

Just ask me.

FRANK:

All right, I will.

Would you trade places with Miss

Tracy Lord for all of her wealth and beauty?

LIZZY:

You know, I can't help thinking about it.

-----------

BING:

Cold?

TRACY:

And what little mission of mischief

brings you out of the bushes?

BING:

A wedding present.

TRACY:

Wouldn't it have been simpler

to have it sent over?

BING:

Oh, no.

Whoever brought it could never say

what I want to say.

TRACY:

Well?

BING:

Lovely and unrelenting.

TRACY:

You said you had something to say.

BING:

I'd hoped you'd changed a little, Tracy

maybe softened some.

Well, not for my sake entirely,

but for yours.

You'd stand a better chance at happiness.

TRACY:

Thank you. I'll manage.

BING:

Oh, yeah. I bet you will.

You'll manage all right.

You'll manage George too.

But heaven help him if he shows

any signs of weakness or rebellion.

TRACY:

I see you haven't changed either, Dexter.

BING:

I tried hard to figure it out.

Your father hurt you deeply

when he hurt your mother.

TRACY:

Please.

BING:

So you started demanding perfection.

Nobody was gonna hurt you.

You felt I tricked you.

I didn't know you wanted a husband

who'd be high priest to a virgin goddess.

TRACY:

Stop using those foul words.

BING:

It's a real pity too, Tracy.

You'd be a wonderful woman

if you'd just let your tiara slip a little.

But you'll never be a wonderful woman,

or even a wonderful human being

until you learn to have

some regard for human frailty.

There's a lot more of you goddesses

around than people realize.

TRACY:

Is that all you have to say?

BING:

Yes,

Those first weeks we spent together

were the most wonderful I've ever known.

I want to thank you for them.

Good luck, Sam, and good sailing.

----

BING:

Hey skipper, when do we eat?

TRACY:

Now.

BING:

Well, you've been at it long enough.

TRACY:

It's the bride's prerogative.

BING:

I don't like you out of my sight so long.

TRACY:

That's nice.

BING:

I'll have that fixed in the morning.

TRACY:

First course.

*KISS*

BING:

You'll never be able to follow it.

TRACY:

Second course.

BING:

What is it?

TRACY:

Tomato juice.

BING:

You've done something brilliant to it.

What?

TRACY:

Opened the can and poured it out.

BING:

It's so piquant.

Good.

Invented by the Earl of Sandwich?

TRACY:

With something special added.

BING:

You hussy!

TRACY:

You said you'd eat anything.

--------

GEORGE:

It's for you...

Tracy?

Tracy?

TRACY:

Hey.

GEORGE:

You all right?

TRACY:

Yes. I -- I was just --

GEORGE:

I know. Half asleep.

Say, aren't you a pretty big girl

to be playing with boats?

TRACY:

It's a model of the True Love.

A wedding present from Dexter.

We spent our honeymoon on her.

Oh my, she was yare.

GEORGE:

Yare? What's yare?

TRACY:

Sleek, quick to the helm,

everything a boat should be.

GEORGE:

It seems hardly in good taste

as a wedding present.

TRACY:

George, the true love

never really existed with Dexter.

I want you to know that.

GEORGE:

I do know.

That's the wonderful thing about you.

You're untouched by this

foolish first marriage.

There's a beautiful purity about you

like a statue to be worshipped.

TRACY:

But I don't want to be worshipped.

I want to be loved.

GEORGE:

That goes without saying. But I also want

you up on a pedestal where you belong.

Where I can look up and adore you.

TRACY:

Never mind.

MOTHER:

Tracy, aren't you going in, dear?

TRACY:

I've changed my mind.

GEORGE:

Mr. Lord

I haven't had a chance to thank you yet

for coming back for the wedding.

It was very decent of you

and we both appreciate it.

FATHER:

Well, thank you, George.

I felt my wife would not object.

MOTHER:

George, we moved your things

to make room for those magazine people.

You don't mind, do you?

GEORGE:

Anything you do is all right with me.

MOTHER:

We're having cocktails here

before going to Uncle Willie's.

GEORGE:

I'd better dash off and change.

I'll see you later, Tracy.

Excuse me.

FATHER:

I have a feeling George

is going to take that ring tomorrow

and go right through center with it.

TRACY:

That's very amusing.

Almost as amusing as the sight of you

with your arm around Mother.

FATHER:

Well, I find it most unamusing

to be passed off as your Uncle Willie.

And do take that tone out of your voice.

It is most unattractive.

TRACY:

Oh, really?

And your dancer friend, how does she

speak to you, dulcet and intoxicating?

Heady enough to make you

Forget family responsibilities?

MOTHER:

Stop it instantly!

TRACY:

Mother, I can't help it. It's sickening.

A magnificent right he's got to come back

in his best head of the family manner

and start taking charge

as if he's done nothing at all.

MOTHER:

Well, it's not really your affair.

If it concerns anyone.

Actually, I don't know who it

concerns except your father.

FATHER:

That is very wise of you, Margaret.

What most wives don't seem to realize

is that a husband's philandering,

even as innocuous as my own

has nothing whatever to do with them.

TRACY:

And pray, just what has it

to do with, then?

FATHER:

A reluctance to grow old, I think.

I suppose the best mainstay a man can

have as he gets along in years

is a daughter.

The right kind of daughter,

one who's full of warmth and affection

a kind of foolish, unquestioning,

uncritical affection.

TRACY:

None of which I've got, of course.

I'm a cold goddess.

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