SCENE II.—_The same. AMANDA, L., present. She is looking over

the morning paper. Enter MRS. JONES, R._

MRS. JONES. Ah, has the paper come, Amanda?

AMANDA. Yes, and the advertisement is inserted, and reads well. (_Passes paper to her mother._)

MRS. J. That seems to be right—(_listens—sound of bell is heard_). But hark! Isn’t that the door bell?

A. Yes; I hope it may prove an applicant for board.

(_Servant ushers in MRS. SIMPERTON and her daughter, L._)

MRS. SIMPERTON. This is Mrs. Jones, I believe.

MRS. J. You are right. That is my name.

MRS. S. (_affectedly_). I must introduce myself as Mrs. Simperton. And this is my daughter, Isadora Malvina. (_MRS. J. bows._) We saw your advertisement in this morning’s “Herald,” and when we called at the office, were directed here.

MRS. J. Yes, my daughter and myself wished for company. It is rather lonely for two persons to live by themselves in a large house like this, with no one near but servants.

MRS. S. It must be so, and I do not wonder that you wish for companions. My daughter and myself are thinking of boarding this winter, and I wish to make some inquiries concerning your rooms. I suppose they are newly furnished.

MRS. J. Yes, they all contain new furniture.

MRS. S. And is it black walnut, with marble tops to the bureau and tables?

MRS. J. Yes, a part of the rooms are furnished in that style.

MRS. S. I suppose we could have our meals in our own rooms.

MRS. J. (_hesitating_). Well—yes—perhaps it could be arranged so.

MRS. S. And I suppose we could have them at whatever hour we chose.

MRS. J. I think so.

MRS. S. That seems to be favorable. May I ask your terms?

MRS. J. For my best rooms, with private meals, I should be obliged to charge twenty dollars a week apiece. If the meals came at unusual hours, it would be worth more.

MRS. S. (_with emphasis_). Your charge is exorbitant. Such accommodations are not worth more than half the sum you name. Still I am willing to pay twenty-five dollars for both of us.

MRS. J. I couldn’t think of such a thing. I shouldn’t be able to pay my expenses at such low rates for board.

MRS. S. I thought you didn’t keep boarders for profit, but only for the sake of company.

MRS. J. That is very true. I don’t take boarders for profit, but neither do I intend to take them at a loss. I shouldn’t consider their company to be of sufficient value to compensate for that.

MRS. S. Very well; I see we must look further. I don’t believe we should be suited here. Come, Isadora Malvina. (_Goes out, L., with a lofty air, followed by her daughter._)

A. What airs people do put on sometimes! I’m glad she didn’t decide to stay. I shouldn’t want her for a boarder at any price. (_Bell rings. Enter COUNT DE FRIPON, L._)

COUNT (_with a polite bow_). Can madame accommodate me with a suite of rooms?

MRS. J. I think so. What rooms do you desire?

C. I should like a _chambre à coucher_—what you call a bedroom; also a parlor in which I could receive my friends.

MRS. J. You would require board, too, I suppose.

C. Oui, madame,—yes, you are right. I should wish board for myself, and sometimes I might bring a friend with me to dine.

MRS. J. Certainly. We shall always be glad to see any of your friends. In regard to terms—

C. (_with a deprecating gesture_). Pardon, madame, but—I never trouble myself with these trifling matters. At the end of every month you will send in your bill to me, and I shall pay it to you at once.

MRS. J. That will be satisfactory. But what name shall I put down?

C. (_with a courtly air_). Count Henri de Fripon, madame. Here is my card. (_Passes it._)

MRS. J. (_bows, while a pleased smile overspreads her face_). And when would you like to come?

C. I shall come to you next Monday, in the morning. I have the honor to wish you good day, madame; bon jour, mademoiselle.

(_Exit, L., with low bow._)

MRS. J. That’s a boarder after my own mind. He never inquired the terms, and will be ready to pay when the bill is presented. I wish we might secure others of the same kind.

A. And he’s one of the nobility, too. His presence will give quite a distinguished air to the house.

MRS. J. Yes; he’s quite an acquisition. (_Bell rings._) Besides, who knows but—(_Enter MISS TRIST, L._)

MISS TRIST. Good mornin’, ma’am. Good mornin’, miss. (_MRS. J. and A. both bow._) I’ve come to see about gettin’ boarded.

MRS. J. I think we can accommodate you. What kind of a room would you like?

MISS T. It don’t make no sort o’ difference to me. I only want a shelter. ’Taint likely I shall be spared long to need one.

MRS. J. (_with sympathy_). Are you an invalid?

MISS T. No, I aint sick yet, but there’s no knowin’ how soon I may be. My mother died _young_, and died suddenly, too. I expect to go in the same way.

MRS. J. I hope not. (_A pause._) We have rooms which, with board, vary from twelve to twenty dollars per week.

MISS T. My sakes! That’s an awful price, aint it? But then I might as well spend my money for board as to leave it for my relations to quarrel over.

MRS. J. That certainly is a better way.

MISS T. (_mournfully_). Perhaps you wouldn’t think it, from my comin’ here to get boarded; but I’ve got three sisters and two brothers, and they’re all watchin’ to see if I aint goin’ to get sick an’ die, so they can have my money.

MRS. J. You’d better come here to board, then. I dare say it would be the means of prolonging your life.

MISS T. Do you think so? I wish I could believe it, though (_dismally_) I haint got nothin’ to live for. But then, if I aint to live long, it would be a comfort to spend my last days in peace. I’ve had a great many troubles and trials in my time.

MRS. J. I am sorry to hear it.

MISS T. Yes, I lost my best friend just six days before we were to be married. If he’d only lived one week longer, I might have been a desolate relict instead of a lonely single woman.

MRS. J. It must have been a great disappointment.

MISS T. Yes; but then ’twas my luck. I don’t place no dependence on anything now. (_Rising._) There’s no knowin’ what may happen; but I’ll come, to stay, next Monday, if I’m alive an’ well.

(_Exit, L._)

A. (_drawing a long breath_). Oh, I’m so glad she’s gone. I hope something will happen to prevent her coming. It’s as dismal to have her round as to be alone in the house on a drizzly day in November.

MRS. J. We can’t refuse any one who is willing to pay our price. But hark! some one is coming. (_Enter MR. SCOTT hurriedly._)

MR. SCOTT (_nervously_). I have come to get boarded here madam. (_With deprecating gesture._) Don’t refuse me, for I shall certainly commit suicide if you do. You see I’ve set my heart on boarding with you and your charming daughter.

MRS. J. (_benignantly_). There is no occasion for my refusing you. We have still a few rooms left that are not engaged.

MR. S. (_in a hurried manner_). And what are your terms—though that will make no difference. I shall come, whatever they may be.

MRS. J. We have one room, at fifteen dollars, that may perhaps suit you.

MR. S. (_with a theatrical air_). Fifteen dollars! Ask me not to pay such a paltry sum. I would never pay less than twenty-five.

MRS. J. Very well, you can pay any sum you choose.

MR. S. Then I choose to pay twenty-five dollars. But there’s another inquiry that I wish to make. Can I have a piano in my room?

MRS. J. There is a piano in the parlor, which the boarders are at liberty to use when they feel inclined.

MR. S. But that will not suit me. Perhaps I should wish to play when some one else was using it. No, I must have one in my own room. (_Earnestly._) I’m willing to pay extra for it—five, fifteen, or even fifty dollars a week, rather than not to have it.

MRS. J. Certainly; if you are willing to pay for it I will have one put into your room for you.

MR. S. You relieve my mind greatly. I will be here to commence boarding to-morrow. Here is my card. (_Passes it._) Good-morning, ladies.

(_Exit hastily, L._)

A. What a strange man! It isn’t often that one meets with a person who sets so little value on money.

MRS. J. His name is as strange as his actions.

A. (_with curiosity_). What is it?

MRS. J. Zachary Winfield Taylor Scott.

A. (_with interest_). Perhaps he is a son of General Scott. I’ve heard it said that the families of great men are often eccentric.

(_Bell rings. Enter JETHRO BURBANK, L._)

JETHRO BURBANK. I’ve come to see as how, could I get boarded.

MRS. J. We have some rooms still vacant, if the price is such as to suit you.

J. B. (_unheeding her remark_). You see, I’ve come all the way from Hatchville, State of Maine, to see if I could get a situation here in the city, and the fust thing is to get a boarding-place. What do you calc’late to charge me now? Don’t set it too high.

MRS. J. The lowest-priced rooms we have left are fifteen dollars per week, with board.

J. B. Gewhittaker! That’s an all-fired big sum. You don’t mean that’s your lowest price.

MRS. J. Certainly. This is a first-class house, and we do not take any boarders who can’t afford to pay our prices.

J. B. Wal, I don’t know what you call fust-class boarders, but marm boards the schoolmaster, and the editor of the paper, and I guess they aint second to nobody.

MRS. J. (_smiling_). And what does she charge for board?

J. B. Wal, she charges jest two dollars a week. That’s what I call a reasonable price. But I knowed that prices were higher in the city, and I calc’lated I’d have to pay as much as five dollars; but to pay three times that, is more than I can stand. Why, the price of a year’s board would buy me a good farm down to Hatchville.

MRS. J. Then I’m afraid you’ll have to go back there.

J. B. Wal, I shan’t give it up so. I’m going to try further.

(_Exit J. B., L._)

A. It is getting late. I don’t believe we shall have any more applicants to-day.

MRS. J. You are mistaken, for here is one now.

(_Enter MRS. WESTWOOD, L._)

MRS. WESTWOOD. Good-afternoon, ladies. Am I too late for a place? Are your rooms all taken?

MRS. J. No. We have several left. There are two in particular that I think you would fancy. One is a very large and pleasant room. The other is a little smaller.

MRS. W. Oh, I must have the large one, by all means.

MRS. J. The larger one, with board, will be twenty dollars a week.

MRS. W. Very well, I will pay it. I’ve got plenty of money at present. My husband died a year ago, and left me with a large farm and a quantity of stock. But I wasn’t going to be immured in a dismal farm-house—not I. So I’ve sold the farm, and come to the city to board till my money gives out. Perhaps then you’ll take me as a partner in the boarding-house business.

MRS. J. I find it takes considerable money, even for that business.

MRS. W. Oh, well, I’ve got enough—a couple of hundred thousand dollars. But I’m not ready to go in yet. I want to see a little of city life first. If I meet a good-looking gentleman that invites me, perhaps I shall become his partner instead of yours. But time will show.

MRS. J. What time would you like to commence?

MRS. W. It might as well be now as any other time. I can send for my trunks.

MRS. J. Very well; I will show you the two rooms, though I think you will prefer the larger one.

MRS. W. Oh, I am sure I shall.

(_Exit MRS. J. and MRS. W., L._)

A. (_sola_). Quite a number of the rooms are already engaged, and I think we may congratulate ourselves on having made a good beginning. How much better it will be to keep a genteel boarding-house than to tend shop or keep school for a living.

(_Curtain falls._)