Dame Hilda: I am generous to a fault. I’d give anybody, anything. Well, almost anybody, almost anything. I'm also frightfully impetuous. I sometimes find I've done things before I've realised I was doing them. Now, generous and impetuous people like me are especially vulnerable. We are as bird seed to the vultures of life. For example, last autumn, Lorna Dyrenforth inveigled me into parting with one of my most treasured possessions. Well, for a start it took me a week to discover where I dumped the darn thing. But the upshot was that one Thursday morning, Evadne and I carried from its dusty, hidey hole in the lumber room down into the autumnal sunshine of the drawing room, the doll's house of my childhood.

{Drawing room.}

Dame Hilda: Evadne, do be careful, dear, you're tipping it. And you're creating havoc in the butler's pantry.

Dr. Hinge: Hilda, can we put this blessed thing down somewhere? It weighs a ton.

Dame Hilda: We'll put it on the oval table, dear. Why do you think Maud's covered it with old newspapers? It'll just about make I think. It doesn't matter if the corners protrude, right? Lower away. Oh steady, steady, you're tipping it up again. The pussy cat in nanny's room has fallen off the windowsill again.

Dr. Hinge: The pussy cat in nanny's room. I bet you were a horrible child.

Dame Hilda: Well, at least I didn't grow up into a horrible adult.

Dr. Hinge: There, the darn thing's down at last. I say, just look at the colour of my hands, that thing's filthy.

Dame Hilda: So would you be, dear, if you'd spent the last 20 years in the lumber room. Well, I mean, just look at you now and you were only in there for 10 minutes. And are those cobwebs on your forehead or just new lines.

Dr. Hinge: Where?

Dame Hilda: There, dear, look in the mirror.

Dr. Hinge: Oh, these? They're just cobwebs. A bit of spit on my hanky should soon get them off.{Spit!}

Dame Hilda: Oh, Evadne, I do so detest it when you do that, it’s so…. so unhygienic.

Dr. Hinge: As a matter of {Spit!}fact, Hilda, saliva is extremely good for the complextion.

Dame Hilda: Then spit away, dear. Isn't it lovely to see the doll's house again? Do you know, I'd forgotten how gorgeous it was, it's perfection, isn't it?

Dr. Hinge: It's too big.

Dame Hilda: It's only five foot high. It always seemed so very much taller when I was a child.

Dr. Hinge: What did you do? Live in it?

Dame Hilda: Don't try to be sharp, dear, or one day you'll cut yourself in two. Oh, I say, just look at that, Evadne, in the kitchen. See the little sink? now, if I just take that little tiny thread between my thumb and forefinger and... are you watching me?

Dr. Hinge: Yes, I'm watching.

Dame Hilda: Then I give it a little pull, there, and the plug comes out.

Dr. Hinge: I bet that kept you amused for hours.

Dame Hilda:  And do you know, if you put water into that tiny tank in the attic, all the taps work and the lavatory flushes.

Dr. Hinge: Oh, I say. Does it really?

Dame Hilda: Ah, I thought that would interest you. It's amazing how your eyes light up when the conversation gets round to plumbing. Hand me that vase of flowers over there, would you, dear? Now, take the flowers out, thank you, and I'll show you something.

Dr. Hinge: Right oh, there we are.

Dame Hilda: Now I just fill the tank with water. So. I replace the lid, so. Now, Evadne, turn the kitchen tap on.

Dr. Hinge: Very well.

Dame Hilda: There, see, water flows into the sink. So we wash the little delft plates and we place them in the wooden plate rack to drain. Then we pull the plug out, and the water runs away.

Dr. Hinge:  Ahh, and where does it run to?

Dame Hilda: All over the floor. I'm afraid. I forgot to put the little reservoir under the little drain.

Dr. Hinge: Well, I must say, that's jolly ingenious.

Dame Hilda: Yes, it is, isn't it? I suppose I did do the right thing offering this to Lorna.

Dr. Hinge: What does she want it for, exactly?

Dame Hilda: I told you, dear. She's going to raffle it to raise money for the adventure playground. It'll be the star prize and I shall be in the local paper, of course.

Dr. Hinge: What on earth does Stackton want an adventure playground for?

Dame Hilda: For the little children, dear, so that they've got somewhere to play.

Dr. Hinge: Hilda, there have been children in Stackton Tressel since before they wrote the doomsday book. Why can't they play where they've always played. I mean, in the streets, in the fields, in the river?

Dame Hilda: What about on the railway line? Oh, you're so uncharitable, Evadne. No, I think it's a good idea. At least it'll keep the little brats out of the park.

Dr. Hinge: Yes, I suppose you're right. It will mean you'll be able to stand and feed the ducks again. Without fear of being pushed in the pond. I bet that doll's house will raise a fortune. I mean, it might be big and ostentatious, but it's beautifully made. I'll give you that.

Dame Hilda: Well, it's Victorian, dear. Of course, I had it much later. I think it had been granny Fyfield’s. I know that she made those needle worked samplers for the bedroom walls. That's why they're so depressing. I mean, just look at this one in the nursery. It's a hard winter when one wolf eats another.

Dr. Hinge: And did she choose the wallpapers as well?

Dame Hilda: No, she didn't. Why?

Dr. Hinge: I think they're even more depressing. I mean, they're all such sickly colours for a start.

Dame Hilda: I chose the wallpaper.

Dr. Hinge: Ah, that explains it. Your taste has remained remarkably consistent down the years, hasn't it? I mean, if I were asked to name this style, I think I would describe it as Goldilocks grotesque.

Dame Hilda: I suppose if that had been your doll's house, you'd have covered the walls in wattle and daub or dried droppings of some sort.

Dr. Hinge: Something plain and simple, certainly.

Dame Hilda: Ah, but look, now just look into the music room. The little piano stool, it's lid lifts up and the grand piano, see, it's lid lifts up, the little candlesticks, they swivel, you know, and you can light those tiny candles too, and see, on the music rack, there, see? A minute but exact copy of a real song. You can read every word. Toy Town, song from the review bric a brac. Words and music by Lionel Monckton. Copyright MCMXV.

Dr. Hinge: What's that?

Dame Hilda: What's what, dear?

Dr. Hinge: What's MCMXV?

Dame Hilda: It's the date the song was published.

Dr. Hinge: And what date was it published?

Dame Hilda: I've just told you, Evadne, MCMXV.

Dr. Hinge: Yes, well, what's that in Arabic?

Dame Hilda: How in heavens would I know, I don't speak Arabic.

Dr. Hinge: In Arabic numerals, Hilda, the ordinary numbers we use every day.

Dame Hilda: Oh, those, those? Well, let me see now, M is a thousand, isn’t it?

Dr. Hinge: Yes.

Dame Hilda: And C is a hundred?

Dr. Hinge: That's right.

Dame Hilda: So MC is eleven hundred. And another M, so that's another thousand. So that's two thousand one... Oh no, that can't be right.

Dr. Hinge: No, the C is before the second M Hilda, so you subtract. So you have one thousand nine hundred.

Dame Hilda: Oh, that's right, of course, and XV 1905.

Dr. Hinge: Wrong!

Dame Hilda: What?

Dr. Hinge: XV Hilda. X is ten, dear.

Dame Hilda: Ahh, 1915!

Dr. Hinge: Brilliant. How lucky for the Roman legions, they never had you reading milestones for them.

Dame Hilda: How lucky for them that they had you. Evadne, dear, there's a life-size replica of that song, Toy Town, in your piano stool, dear, fetch it out and let's sing it.

Dr. Hinge: Just as you like.

Dame Hilda:  Here goes.

Now, the children are all in bed

Hushed is each little curly head

All their toys have been put away

Games are done till another day

You might think that the toys were weary too

All day long. They've had such a lot to do

That’s where you’re wrong

Don't make a noise. Come right along to the town of toys

Toy Town, come for a visit to toy town

We are all in it.

There’s jumping Jack and there’s bouncing Bill

Such a supple couple they can't keep still

Oh dear, wonderful places

Oh dear, paint on their faces

When midnight chimes

They'll be high old times

In the tinkling town of toys

Toy Town, come for a visit to toy town

We are all in it

There’s jumping Jack and there’s bouncing Bill

Such a supple couple they can't keep still

Oh dear, wonderful places

Oh dear, paint on their faces

When midnight chimes

They’ll be high old times

In the tinkling town of toys

Maud: It's alright, Dame ‘ilda. It's only me. I'm back with the shopping.

Dame Hilda: Ah, that's Maud.

Dr. Hinge: Yes. Back with the shopping.

Dame Hilda: We're in here, Maud.

Maud: Oh, I see you got your doll's ‘ouse down all right then, Dame ‘ilda. I got you your cleaning stuff. Mind, that chemist in the ‘igh street didn't want to sell me no meths. I reckon ‘e thought I were going to drink it.

Dame Hilda:  Well, you shouldn't have gone out in that old hat, dear. It's absolutely essential these days if one's trying to buy methylated spirits that one looks one's most elegant. I never have any trouble. Mind, they won't let Evadne have it at any price.

Dr. Hinge: Very funny. And did they sell you the linseed oil and the turpentine all right, Maud? Or did they think you were going to drink those as well?

Maud: I never asked ‘em, Doctor. I helped myself to ‘em at the DIY place.

Dr. Hinge: You did pay for them, I hope?

Dame Hilda: It's a supermarket Evadne.

Maud:  As a matter of fact, I didn't pay for ‘em. But when I were waiting in the chemists, I remembered as I ‘adn't, so I went all the way back and I did. They said they wished there were more like me in the world.

Dr. Hinge: God forbid!

Dame Hilda: Anyway, Maud, what do you think of my doll's house now that you can see it properly?

Maud:  Oh, it's lovely, Dame ‘ilda. It's a proper lady's doll's ‘ouse. It's just the sort of thing I'd expect you to ‘ave ‘ad. My doll's ‘ouse were only a bungalow. It were made out of an old boot box. But I left it out in the garden one day and the goat et it.

Dame Hilda: Didn't you ever get another one, dear?

Maud: No. Well, my dad never bought another pair o’ boots. Not till auntie Edies's funeral. And I were 21 by then. We ‘ad a parsnip pulling party that day in the five acre field and them new boots didn't ‘alf give dad some jip.

Dr. Hinge: The joys of a country childhood.

Maud: Mind, I never cared for dolls very much.

Dame Hilda: Nor, me, dear, to tell you the truth. I much preferred dressing myself up.

Maud: My favourite thing when I were a girl were a little brown cow.

Dr. Hinge: You don't get brown cows, Maud, nor black ones, they're either red or blue. Now I would have thought you'd have known that being a country girl.

Maud: Well, my cow weren’t a real cow, Doctor. And it were brown with yellow spots and an ‘at with a daisy on it.

Dame Hilda: Ah, she had you there, didn't she, Evadne? That'll teach you to be a clever dick.

Dr. Hinge: Well, of course, technically it was still a red cow, Hilda, all be it with yellow spots.

Maud:  It ‘ad wheels. And when I pulled it round behind me, it's ‘ead nodded, and it's tail wagged and it mooed. Well, it mooed for a bit, till it's moo fell out.

Dame Hilda:  Couldn't you have put it's moo back in, dear.

Maud: No, I couldn't, Dame ‘ilda. It fell out in the pond, when I was teaching it ‘ow to drown. Oh, I loved that little brown cow. I’ve still got it, you know.

Dr. Hinge: You really must bring it up and show it to us.

Maud: Mind, Dame ‘ilda. I don't know ‘ow you can bring yourself to part with that doll's ‘ouse of yours. If it were mine….

Dr. Hinge: And now we all know what you'd do, if it were yours, Maud. You'd leave it out in the garden, and a goat would get it.

Dame Hilda: Evadne, that will do, dear. Now tell me, Maud, what would you do with it if it was yours?

Maud: Well, I'd not let anyone ‘ave it, that's what.

Dame Hilda:  Yes, well, that's rather a negative attitude, isn't it?

Maud: It'd be like giving away a bit of meself.

Dr. Hinge: What's wrong with that?

Dame Hilda: Evadne! No, Maud, I do see what you mean.

Maud: I wouldn't give my little brown cow away not to anyone.

Dame Hilda: Not even to raise money for an adventure playground.

Maud: Not on your life. We didn't ‘ave no adventure playground in my day. If we wanted a bit of a change from feeding tadpoles, we'd go to the old quarry and spend an ‘our or two chucking rocks at the keep out sign.

Dr. Hinge: Happy days.

Dame Hilda: Well, I must say I'm in a bit of a quandary now and I really don't know what to do about that doll's house, Evadne.

Dr. Hinge: Well, why don't you just tell Lorna Dyrenforth that you’ve changed your mind?

Dame Hilda: Oh, I couldn't do that, dear. No, no, I know what I'll do. I'll see if I can buy another one the same.

Dr. Hinge: Oh, you're not going to be able to find another one like that? Even if you could, it would cost you an absolute fortune.

Dame Hilda: Yes, I suppose it would. Well, I tell you one thing, Evadne. Lorna’s not having it. I'd sooner they ditched the idea of an adventure playground and settled for renovating the keep out sign at the old quarry.

Dame Hilda: Well, I hate to admit it, but Evadne was right, we couldn't find a doll's house like mine anywhere. Unfortunately, I described it to Lorna in some detail, so it wasn't going to be easy fobbing her off. Then I had a brainwave. Why not make a doll's house ourselves? I mean, after all, we had mine to copy. Well, Evadne was in her element, she was as happy as a sand boy with a mouthful of panel pins and a spare hacksaw blade behind her left ear. By the time she'd finished, her bedroom floor was covered in sawdust. However, she said this was warmer than the lino, anyway. In no time at all, that little house was standing proudly on the table in the drawing room, and we were both hard at it, completing and redecorating and furnishing.

Dame Hilda: Those wallpapers really do look very like the ones in my doll's house, don’t they, dear? 

Dr. Hinge: Yes, don’t they.

Dame Hilda: I had a terrible job finding something suitable, you know.

Dr. Hinge: I bet you did.

Dame Hilda: And then I remembered that packet of assorted wrapping papers I bought last Christmas, from that poor man with the suitcase who was standing in the pouring rain outside the co-op. Remember?

Dr. Hinge: Oh, yes, I remember. Two hundred sheets for 10p, wasn't it?

Dame Hilda: Something like that, yes, and when I got it home I discovered that only the top sheet was Christmassy. That's some of it on those walls, didn't I tell you, when you scoffed that it would come in handy?

Dr. Hinge: Yes, you did. Have you thought of a use yet for the other hundred and fifty sheets?

Dame Hilda: Not yet, but give me time.

Dr. Hinge: Now, that's the brass bedstead finished. Where do you want it?

Dame Hilda: It's for the second bedroom, dear. Oh, I say. Oh, Evadne, that's lovely, dear. Whatever, did you make it with?

Dr. Hinge: Oh, it's just plastic drinking straws covered in gold paper, the same as the curtain rail in the library and the parrot's perch. Oh, by the way, Hilda, is the paint dry on that little chest of drawers there?

Dame Hilda: It is now, dear, but it wasn't the last time I touched it, which accounts for the smudgy finger mark on the top.

Dr. Hinge: Oh, is that a fingermark? Do you know I thought you'd done something rather clever? I'm sure people will think that's the patina of age.

Dame Hilda: Not my finger, they won't. They might have done had it been yours. So I shall repaint that bit.

Dr. Hinge: Oh, I must say, Hilda, you would never guess that so much this furniture had been made out of matchboxes.

Dame Hilda: No, I suppose you wouldn’t, not unless you happen to notice that the sideboard is covered in bowls of unused matches. What on earth are we going to do with all those matches?

Dr. Hinge: What I suggest is as soon as we finish your doll's house, Hilda, you settle down to building a matchstick model of Rheims cathedral.

Dame Hilda: Oh, Evadne, I say, look who's coming up the drive. It's Peter and Mandy Moore.

Dr. Hinge: And what on earth do they want?

Dame Hilda: Lorna said that they'd offered to collect all the raffle prizes for her.

Dr. Hinge: Trust them to stick their noses in.

Dame Hilda: Well, they've got a shooting brake, dear.

Dr. Hinge: Well, with noses that long they need one.

Dame Hilda: But, Lorna promised faithfully they'd give us a ring first, the day after tomorrow. She said they'd give us a ring, the day after tomorrow.

Dr. Hinge: Oh, do stop repeating the day after tomorrow, Hilda, you sound like Vera Lynn.

Dame Hilda: What are we going to do? We can't let them walk in here and see two doll's houses and one not ready. And that's the one we're going to give Lorna. And let's face it, it's not the best. It's jolly good, but it's not the best.

Dr. Hinge: No, don't worry, Hilda. When they knock, you go to the door and let them in and then stall them for a bit. While you're doing that, I'll throw a cloth over your doll's house and I'll hide the tools and the building materials.

{Door knocks!}

Dame Hilda: Oh, that's them! Right, Evadne, I'm off. I'm coming, I'm coming, Why, hello, my dears, what brings you here? I thought you were going to ring the day after tomorrow?

Peter: Yes, we were, Dame Hilda, weren't we, D?

Mandy: We still are, P.

Peter: Well, we don't need to now, dear do we?

Mandy: Why don't we?

Peter: Well, we're here, aren't we? So what would be the point of ringing to say we were coming two days after we'd been?

Mandy: Yes, but P, we've not come today for what we're going to be ringing about the day after tomorrow, have we?

Peter: Well, no, but as we're here, we may be able to kill two birds with one stone, and then the day after tomorrow we can arrange to do something else. That is, assuming that we've been able to do today what we were planning to do then.

Mandy: Ah, now I'm with you.

Dame Hilda: I wish I was. Still, at least you saved me having to stall you, so you may as well come straight in.

Mandy: Thanks awfully, Dame Hilda.

Peter: Yes, thank you.

Dame Hilda: Follow me we’re in the drawing room. Oh, Evadne, it's the Moore's, dear.

Dr. Hinge: Oh, Hello.

Mandy: Hello, Doctor.

Peter: Hello.

Mandy: I do hope we're not disturbing you both, but we happened to be passing, and we've heard so much from Lorna about the doll's house that we just had to pop in and have a peep. didn't we, P?

Peter: Well, not just to have a peep, D. We popped in to see if it would fit in the old jalopy, didn't we?

Mandy: And to have a peep.

Peter: Well, yes, but not just to have a peep.

Mandy: Well, no.

Dame Hilda: Well, whatever you came for there it is. Mind, it's not finis…..

Dr. Hinge: No, no, no, the spring cleaning we've been giving it is not finished.

Dame Hilda: So you can't take it with you.

Mandy: Oh, P. Just look at it, isn't it lovely?

Peter: I say, D. it jolly well is, isn't it?

Dame Hilda:  Of course it's not entirely Victorian, is it, Evadne?

Dr. Hinge: Well, not entirely Hilda, no.

Dame Hilda: No, it's been added to a bit, hasn't it?

Dr. Hinge: From time to time.

Dame Hilda: Over the years.

Peter: You can tell it's jolly old, can't you, D?

Mandy: Oh, rather. They didn't make them like that any more. I mean, just look at those wallpapers for one thing.

Peter: I say, yes, patterns like that went out with the ark.

Mandy: And they're all so wonderfully faded.

Dame Hilda: Ah, yes. All those bygone summers in the little nursery with old Mr. Soames merry face at the window there.

Dr. Hinge: What about all the wet Christmases and the suitcase outside the co-op?

Dame Hilda: Those too, dear, those too, metaphorically speaking. After all, a doll's house is like a real house, it sees good and bad times, happy days, sad, coming and goings, ups and downs, or what not. Well, doesn't it?

Dr. Hinge: Well, I suppose it does. Eventually.

Mandy: Goodness gracious me, P. Just look at all the little tiny pieces of furniture. And they're also exquisitely made. Yes. Just look at that little bedroom, the wash stand, the chest of drawers, and what about that little brass bedstead.

Peter:  Goodness me, D. That must have been fiddly work.

Dr. Hinge: Oh, yes.

Peter: Yet it was probably made by a gnarled old man with fingers like bananas.

Dame Hilda: As a matter of fact, it was made by a gnarled old woman with fingers like bananas. Wasn't it, Evadne?

Mandy: Do you mean to say that you actually know who made all this?

Dame Hilda: Oh, yes, dear, yes. Every stick and straw of it. That's what makes it so very personal. Isn't it, Evadne?

Dr. Hinge: Yes. Isn't it, Hilda. Even I feel as though I've lived in it.

Peter: Well, I must say, Dame Hilda, I don't know how you can bring yourself to part with it, not even in a good course. I bet you wouldn't, would you, D?

Mandy: No, I wouldn't.

Peter: I knew you wouldn't.

Mandy: I bet you wouldn't.

Peter: No, I certainly wouldn't.

Mandy: There we are then, neither of us would.

Dame Hilda: Well, I'm glad we’ve thrashed that out.

Dr. Hinge: Always pleasant to hear matrimonial accord.

Mandy: Well, I'm going to buy lots and lots of raffle tickets and I just jolly well hope I win that.

Peter: I'm going to buy lots and lots as well, D, because I jolly well hope you do too. And if I win it, you shall have it.

Mandy: Oh, bless you, sweetie.

Peter: Now, we'll not delay the old spring cleaning any longer, Dame Hilda. No, don't get up, we can see ourselves out. We'll ring you the day after tomorrow. Bye for now.

Mandy: Bye-bye,

Dame Hilda:  Bye-bye, dears.

Dr. Hinge: Goodbye.

Dame Hilda: Oh, Evadne, I do hope she doesn't win it.

Dr. Hinge: Well, she might, mightn't she?  I mean if she buys only one ticket, she might, she's just the sort that would.

Dame Hilda: Yes, she is, isn't she? And after all the work we've put into it, oh, I’d hate to think of those two drooling over it. You know, it'd be worse than giving it to a child. No, I'm not going to do it.

Dr. Hinge:  You're not going to do what?

Dame Hilda: I'm not going to let Lorna have it.

Dr. Hinge:  So what are you going to do then?

Dame Hilda: I'll tell you, Evadne. We'll make another one.

Dr. Hinge:  Another one?