Chapter 2
_A drawing-room at the Hunters', handsomely and artistically furnished. The woodwork and furniture are in the period of Louis XVI. The walls and furniture are covered with yellow brocade, and the curtains are of the same golden material. At the back are two large windows which give out on Fifth Avenue, opposite the Park, the trees of which are seen across the way. At Left is a double doorway, leading into the hall. At Right, opposite, is a door which leads to other rooms, and thence to other parts of the house. In the centre, at back, between the two windows, is the fireplace; on the mantel are two vases and a clock in dark blue ormolu. There is a white and gold piano on the Right side of the room. The room suggests much wealth, and that it has been done by a professional decorator; the personal note of taste is lacking._
_It is four o'clock in the afternoon. The shades of the windows are drawn down. There are rows and rows of camp-chairs filling the entire room._
_The curtain rises slowly. After a moment,_ JORDAN, _the butler, and_ LEONARD, _a footman, enter from the Left and begin to gather together and carry out the camp-chairs. They do this with very serious faces, and take great pains to step softly and to make no noise. They enter a second time for more chairs._
JORDAN. [_Whispers to_ LEONARD.] When are they coming for the chairs?
LEONARD. [_Whispers back._] To-night. Say, it was fine, wasn't it!
JORDAN. Grand!
[_They go out with the chairs and immediately reënter for more. They are followed in this time by a lady's maid,_ TOMPSON; _she is not a young woman. As she crosses the room she stoops and picks up a faded flower which has fallen from some emblem. She goes to the window at Right, and peeps out. She turns around and looks at the others. They all speak in subdued voices._
TOMPSON. Jordan, what do you think--can we raise the shades now?
JORDAN. Yes, of course--after they've left the house it's all over as far as we here are concerned.
[_She raises both shades._
TOMPSON. Phew! what an odor of flowers!
[_She opens one of the windows a little._
[MARIE, _a young, pretty, French woman, enters from the Right._
MARIE. Will I help you?
TOMPSON. Just with this table, thank you, Marie. [_They begin to rearrange the room, putting it in its normal condition. They replace the table and put back the ornaments upon it._] Poor Mr. Hunter, and him so fond of mince pie. I shall never forget how that man ate mince pie.
[_She sighs lugubriously and continues her labor with the room._
LEONARD. I hope as how it's not going to make any difference with us.
JORDAN. [_Pompously._] Of course not; wasn't Mr. Hunter a millionnaire?
TOMPSON. Some millionnaires I've known turned out poor as Job's turkey in their coffins!
MARIE. What you say? You tink we shall 'ave some of madame's or ze young ladies' dresses?
TOMPSON. [_Hopefully._] Perhaps.
MARIE. I 'ave already made my choice. I like ze pale pink of Mees Jessie.
LEONARD. Sh! I heard a carridge.
TOMPSON. Then they're coming back.
[MARIE _quickly goes out Right._
JORDAN. [_To_ LEONARD, _hurriedly, as he quickly goes out Left._] Take them last two chairs!
[LEONARD, _with the chairs, follows_ JORDAN _out Left._ TOMPSON _hastily puts back a last arm-chair to its usual position in the room and goes out Right._ MRS. HUNTER _enters Left, followed by her three daughters_, BLANCHE, JESSICA, _and_ CLARA, _and_ MASTER STERLING, _who is a small, attractive child, five years of age. All are in the deepest conventional mourning,_ MRS. HUNTER _in widow's weeds and_ CLARA _with a heavy, black chiffon veil; the_ BOY _is also dressed in conventional mourning. As soon as they enter, all four women lift their veils._ MRS. HUNTER _is a well-preserved woman, with a pretty, rather foolish, and somewhat querulous face. Her figure is the latest mode._ BLANCHE STERLING, _her oldest daughter, is her antithesis,--a handsome, dignified woman, young, sincere, and showing, in her attitude to the others and in her own point of view, the warmth of a true, evenly-balanced nature._ JESSICA _is a typical second child,--nice, good, self-effacing, sympathetic, unspoiled._ CLARA _is her opposite,--spoiled, petulant, pretty, pert, and selfish._
MRS. HUNTER. [_With a long sigh._] Oh, I am so glad to be back home and the whole thing over without a hitch!
[_She sinks with a great sigh of relief into a big chair._
BLANCHE. [_Takes her son to_ MRS. HUNTER.] Kiss grandmother good-by, and then Leonard will take you home.
MRS. HUNTER. Good-by, dear. Be a good boy. Don't eat too much candy.
[_Kisses him carelessly._
MASTER STERLING. Good-by. [_Runs towards the door Left, shouting happily._] Leonard! Leonard!
MRS. HUNTER. [_Tearfully._] My dears, it was a great success! Everybody was there!
[_The three younger women stand and look about the room, as if it were strange to them--as if it were empty. There is a moment's silence._
BLANCHE. [_Tenderly._] Mother, why don't you take off your bonnet?
MRS. HUNTER. Take it off for me; it _will_ be a great relief.
BLANCHE. Help me, Jess.
MRS. HUNTER. [_Irritably._] Yes, _do_ something, Jessie. You've mortified me terribly to-day! That child hasn't shed a tear. People'll think you didn't love your father. [_The two are taking off_ MRS. HUNTER'S _bonnet._ MRS. HUNTER _waits for an answer from_ JESSICA; _none comes._] I never saw any one so heartless! [_Tearful again._] And her father adored her. _She_ was one of the things we quarrelled _most_ about!
[_Over_ MRS. HUNTER'S _head_ BLANCHE _exchanges a sympathetic look with_ JESSICA _to show she understands._
CLARA. I'm sure _I've_ cried enough. I've cried buckets.
[_She goes to_ MRS. HUNTER _as_ BLANCHE _and_ JESSICA _take away the bonnet and veil and put them on the piano._
MRS. HUNTER. [_Kissing Clara._] Yes, dear, you are your mother's own child. And _you_ lose the most by it, too.
[_Leaning against the side of her mother's chair, with one arm about her mother._
CLARA. Yes, indeed, instead of coming out next month, and having a perfectly lovely winter, I'll have to mope the whole season, and, if I don't look out, be a wallflower without ever having been a bud!
MRS. HUNTER. [_Half amused but feeling_ CLARA'S _remark is perhaps not quite the right thing._] Sh--
[_During_ CLARA'S _speech above,_ BLANCHE _has taken_ JESSICA _in her arms a moment and kissed her tenderly, slowly. They rejoin_ MRS. HUNTER, BLANCHE _wiping her eyes,_ JESSICA _still tearless._
CLARA. And think of all the clothes we brought home from Paris last month!
MRS. HUNTER. My dear, don't think of clothes--think of your poor father! That street dress of mine will dye very well, and we'll give the rest to your aunt and cousins.
BLANCHE. Mother, don't you want to go upstairs?
JESSICA. [_Sincerely moved._] Yes, I hate this room now.
MRS. HUNTER. [_Rising._] Hate this room! When we've just had it done! Louis Kinge!
BLANCHE. Louis _Quinze_, dear! She means the associations now, mother.
MRS. HUNTER. Oh, yes, but that's weak and foolish, Jessie. No, Blanche--[_Sitting again._]--I'm too exhausted to move. Ring for tea.
[BLANCHE _rings the bell beside the mantel._
CLARA. [_Crossing to piano, forgets and starts to play a music-hall song, but_ MRS. HUNTER _stops her._] Oh, yes, tea! I'm starved!
MRS. HUNTER. Clara, darling! As if you could be hungry at such a time!
[JORDAN _enters Left._
BLANCHE. Tea, Jordan.
JORDAN. Yes, madam.
[_He goes out Left._
MRS. HUNTER. Girls, everybody in town was there! I'm sure even your father himself couldn't have complained.
BLANCHE. Mother!
MRS. HUNTER. Well, you know he always found fault with my _parties_ being too mixed. He wouldn't realize I couldn't throw over all my old set when I married into his,--not that I ever acknowledged I was your father's inferior. I consider my family was just as good as his, only we were _Presbyterians_!
BLANCHE. Mother, dear, take off your gloves.
MRS. HUNTER. I thought I had. [_Crying._] I'm so heartbroken I don't know what I'm doing.
[_Taking off her gloves._
[BLANCHE _and_ CLARA _comfort their mother._
JESSICA. Here's the tea--
[JORDAN _and_ LEONARD _enter with large, silver tray, with tea, cups, and thin bread-and-butter sandwiches. They place them on small tea-table which_ JESSICA _arranges for them._
MRS. HUNTER. I'm afraid I can't touch it.
[_Taking her place behind tea-table and biting eagerly into a sandwich._
JESSICA. [_Dryly._] Try.
[BLANCHE _pours tea for them all, which they take in turn._
MRS. HUNTER. [_Eating._] One thing I was furious about,--did you see the Witherspoons _here_ at the house?
CLARA. _I_ did.
MRS. HUNTER. The idea! When I've never called on them. They are the worst social pushers I've ever known.
[_She takes another sandwich._
CLARA. Trying to make people think they are on our visiting list! Using even a funeral to get in!
MRS. HUNTER. But I _was_ glad the Worthings were here, and I thought it _sweet_ of old Mr. Dormer to go even to the cemetery. [_Voice breaks a little._] He never goes to balls any more, and, they say, catches cold at the slightest change of temperature.
[_She takes a third sandwich._
BLANCHE. A great many people loved father.
MRS. HUNTER. [_Irritably._] They ought to've. It was really foolish the way he was always doing something for somebody! How good these sandwiches are! [_Spoken very plaintively._
JESSICA. Shall we have to economize now, mother?
MRS. HUNTER. Of course not; how dare you suggest such an injustice to your _father_, and _before_ the flowers are withered on his grave!
[_Again becoming tearful._
[JORDAN _enters Left with a small silver tray, heaping full of letters._
Has the new writing paper come?
BLANCHE. [_Who takes the letters and looks through them, giving some to her mother._] Yes.
[BLANCHE _reads a letter, and passes it to_ JESSICA.
MRS. HUNTER. Is the black border broad enough? They said it was the thing.
CLARA. If you had it any broader, you'd have to get white ink to write with!
MRS. HUNTER. [_Sweetly._] Don't be impertinent, darling!
[_Reading another letter._
[_Enter_ MISS RUTH HUNTER. _She is an unmarried woman between thirty and forty years of age, handsome, distinguished; an aristocrat, without any pretensions; simple, unaffected, and direct in her effort to do kindnesses where they are not absolutely undeserved. She enters the room as if she carried with her an atmosphere of pure ozone. This affects all those in it. She is dressed in deep mourning and wears a thick chiffon veil, which she removes as she enters._
RUTH. Oh! you're having tea!
[_Glad that they are._
MRS. HUNTER. [_Taking a second cup._] I thought the children _ought_ to.
RUTH. Of course they ought and so ought you, if you haven't.
MRS. HUNTER. Oh, I've _trifled_ with something.
JESSICA. Sit here, Aunt Ruth.
BLANCHE. Will you have a cup, Aunt Ruth?
RUTH. Yes, dear, I'm feeling _very_ hungry.
[_Sitting on the sofa beside_ JESSICA _and pressing her hand as she does so._
MRS. HUNTER. Hungry! _How can you!_
RUTH. Because I'm not a _hypocrite_!
MRS. HUNTER. [_Whimpering._] I suppose that's a slur at me!
RUTH. If the slipper fits! But I confess I haven't eaten much for several days; I couldn't touch anything this morning, and I begin to feel exhausted; I must have food and, thank Heaven, I want it. Thank you.
[_To_ BLANCHE, _taking the cup from her._
MRS. HUNTER. I think it's awful, Ruth, and I feel I have a right to say it--I think you owed it to my feelings to have worn a long veil; people will think you didn't love your brother.
RUTH. [_Dryly._] Will they? Let them! You know as well as I do that George loathed the very idea of crêpe and all display of mourning.
MRS. HUNTER. [_Feeling out of her element, changes the subject._] You stayed behind?
RUTH. Yes. I wanted to be the last there. [_Her voice chokes; she tries to control herself._] Ah! you see my nerves are all gone to pieces. I _won't_ cry any more!
MRS. HUNTER. I don't see how you could bear it--staying; but you never had any heart, Ruth.
RUTH. [_Mechanically, biting her lips hard to keep the tears back._] Haven't I?
MRS. HUNTER. My darling husband always felt that defect in you.
RUTH. George?
MRS. HUNTER. He resented your treatment of me, and often said so.
RUTH. [_Very quietly, but with determination._] Please be careful. Don't talk to me like this about my brother, Florence--or you'll make me say something I shall be sorry for.
MRS. HUNTER. I don't care! It wore on him, the way you treated me. I put up with it for his sake, but it helped undermine his health.
RUTH. Florence, stop!
MRS. HUNTER. [_In foolish anger, the resentment of years bursting out._] I _won't_ stop! I'm alone now, and the least you can do is to see that people who've fought shy of me take me up and give me my due. You've been a cruel, selfish sister-in-law, and your own brother saw and hated you for it!
BLANCHE. _Mother!_
RUTH. [_Outraged._] Send your daughters out of the room; I wish to answer you alone.
MRS. HUNTER. [_Frightened._] No! what you have to say to me I prefer my children to hear!
[CLARA _comes over to her mother and puts her arm about her._
RUTH. I can't remain quiet any longer. George--[_She almost breaks down, but she controls herself._] This funeral is enough, with its show and worldliness! I don't believe there was a soul in the church you didn't see! Look at your handkerchief! Real grief isn't measured by the width of a black border. I'm ashamed of you, Florence! I never liked you very much, although I tried to for your husband's sake, but now I'm even more ashamed of you. My dear brother is gone, and there need be no further bond between us, but I want you to understand the true reason why, from to-day, I keep away from you. This funeral was revolting to me!--a show spectacle, a social function, and for _him_ who you know _hated_ the very thing. [_She stops a moment to control her tears and her anger._] I saw the reporters there, and I heard your message to them, and I contradicted it. I begged them not to use your information, and they were gentlemen and promised me not to. You are, and always have been, a silly, frivolous woman. I don't doubt you loved your husband as much as you could any man, but it wasn't enough for me; he was worth being adored by the best and noblest woman in the world. I've stood by all these years, trying with my love and silent sympathy to be some comfort to him--but I saw the disappointment and disillusionment eat away the very _hope_ of happiness out of his heart. I tried to help him by helping you in your foolish ambitions, doing what I could to give my brother's wife the social position _his name_ entitled her to!
MRS. HUNTER. That's not true; I've had to fight it out all alone!
RUTH. It was not my fault if my best friends found you intolerable; _I_ couldn't blame them. Well, now it's over! George is at rest, please God. You are a rich woman to do what you please. Go, and do it! and Heaven forgive you for ruining my brother's life! I'm sorry to have said all this before your children. Blanche, you know how dearly I love you, and I hope you have forgiven me by now for my opposition to your marriage.
BLANCHE. Of course I've forgiven you, but you were always unjust to Dick.
RUTH. Yes; I didn't like your husband then, and I didn't believe in him, but I like him better now. And I am going to put all my affairs in his hands. I couldn't show--surely--a better proof of confidence and liking than that: to trust him as I did--your father. I hope I shall see much of you and Jessica. As for you, Clara, I must be honest--
CLARA. [_Interrupting her._] Oh, I know you've always hated me! The presents you gave the other girls were always twice as nice as I got!
MRS. HUNTER. [_Sympathetically._] Come here, darling.
[CLARA _goes and puts her arms about her mother's neck._
RUTH. You are your mother's own child, Clara, and I never could pretend anything I didn't feel. [_She turns to_ BLANCHE _and_ JESSICA, _who stand side by side._] You two are all I have left in the world of my brother. [_She kisses them, and lets the tears come, this time without struggling._] Take pity on your old-maid aunt and come and see me, won't you, _often_--[_Trying to smile away her tears._] And now good-by!
JESSICA AND RUTH. [_Taking her hands._] Good-by.
[RUTH _looks about the room to say good-by to it; she cries and hurriedly begins pulling down her veil, and starts to go out as_ JORDAN _enters Left and announces "Mr. Mason!"_
[MRS. HUNTER _fluffs her hair a little and hopes she looks becoming._
[MASON _is a typical New Yorker, well built, well preserved, dignified, and good-looking,--a solid man in every sense of the word._
MASON. [_Meeting_ RUTH, _shakes hands with her._] Miss Hunter.
RUTH. I am just going, Mr. Mason.
MASON. You must stay. I sent word to your house this morning to meet me here.
[_Shakes hands with the others._
RUTH. I was here all night.
MRS. HUNTER. Will you have some tea? The children were hungry.
MASON. No, thank you. [_To_ BLANCHE.] Isn't your husband here?
[JORDAN, _at a signal from_ MRS. HUNTER, _removes the tea things._
BLANCHE. No, he left us at the door when we came back.
MASON. Didn't he get a letter from me this morning asking him to meet me here?
BLANCHE. Oh, yes, he did mention a letter at breakfast, but my thoughts were away. He has been very much worried lately over his affairs; he doesn't confide in me, but I see it. I wish you could advise him, Mr. Mason.
MASON. I cannot advise your husband if he won't _ask_ my advice. I don't think we'll wait for Mr. Sterling.
[_Gives chair to_ MRS. HUNTER.
MRS. HUNTER. I suppose you've come about all the horrid business. Why not just tell us how much our income is, and let all the details go. I really think the details are more than I can bear to-day.
MASON. That can be certainly as you wish; but I felt--as your business adviser--and besides I promised my old friend, your husband--it was my duty to let you know how matters stand with the least possible delay.
MRS. HUNTER. [_Beginning to break down._] George! George!
[RUTH _looks at her, furious, and bites her lips hard._ JESSICA _is standing with her back toward them._
MASON. Well, then--
[_He is interrupted by_ MRS. HUNTER, _who sees_ JESSICA.
MRS. HUNTER. Jess! How rude you are! Turn around this minute! [JESSICA _does not move._] What do you mean! Excuse me, Mr. Mason! Jess! Such disrespect to your father's will! Turn around! [_Angry._] Do you hear me?
JESSICA. [_With her back still turned, her shoulders shaking, speaks in a voice broken with sobs._] Leave me alone! Leave me alone--
[_She sits in a chair beside her and leans her arms upon its back and buries her face in her arms._
BLANCHE. [_With her hand on her mother's arm._] Mother! Don't worry her!
MRS. HUNTER. Go on, please, Mr. Mason, and remember, _spare us the details._ What is our income?
MASON. Mrs. Hunter, there is no income.
MRS. HUNTER. [_Quietly, not at all grasping what he means._] No income! How is our money--
MASON. I am sorry to say there is _no_ money.
MRS. HUNTER. [_Echoes weakly._] No money?
MASON. Not a penny!
MRS. HUNTER. [_Realizing now what he means, cries out in a loud, hard, amazed voice._] What!
BLANCHE. [_With her hand on her shoulder._] Mother!
MRS. HUNTER. I don't believe it!
RUTH. [_To_ MASON.] My good friend, do you mean that literally--that my brother died without leaving _any_ money behind him?
MRS. HUNTER. For his wife and family?
MASON. I mean just that.
RUTH. But how?
MRS. HUNTER. Yes, _tell us the details_--every one of them! You can't imagine the shock this is to me!
MASON. Hunter sent for me two days before he died, and told me things had gone badly with him last year, but it seemed impossible to retrench his expenses.
RUTH. _Are you listening, Florence?_
MRS. HUNTER. Yes, of course I am; your brother was a very extravagant man!
MASON. This year, with his third daughter coming out, there was need of more money than ever. He was harassed nearly to death with financial worries. [RUTH _begins to cry softly._ MRS. HUNTER _gets angrier and angrier._] And finally, in sheer desperation, and trusting to the advice of the Storrings, he risked everything he had with them in the Consolidated Copper. The day after, he was taken ill. You know what happened. The Storrings, Hunter, and others were ruined absolutely; the next day Hunter died.
RUTH. Poor George! Why didn't he come to me; he must have known that everything I had was his!
MASON. He was too ill when the final blow came to realize it.
MRS. HUNTER. [_Angry._] But his _life insurance_,--there was a big policy in my name.
MASON. He had been obliged to let that lapse.
MRS. HUNTER. You mean I haven't even my _life_ insurance?
MASON. As I said, there is nothing, except this house, and that is--
MRS. HUNTER. [_Rises indignantly and almost screams in angry hysterics._] _Mortgaged_, I presume! Oh, it's insulting! It's an indignity. It's--it's--Oh, well, it's just like my husband, there!
BLANCHE. Mother!
[RUTH _rises, and, taking_ MASON'S _arm, leads him aside._
MRS. HUNTER. [_To_ BLANCHE.] Oh, don't talk to me now! You always preferred your father, and now you're punished for it! He has wilfully left your mother and sisters paupers!
BLANCHE. How can you speak like that! Surely you know father must have suffered more than we could when he realized he was leaving nothing for you.
JESSICA. Yes, and it was for us too that he lost all. It was our extravagance.
MRS. HUNTER. Hush! How dare _you_ side against me, too?
RUTH. Florence--
MRS. HUNTER. Well, Ruth, what do you think of your brother now?
BLANCHE. [_To her mother._] Don't!
MASON. By whom were the arrangements for to-day made?
MRS. HUNTER. My son-in-law had most pressing business, and his friend--
BLANCHE. The friend of all of us--
MRS. HUNTER. Yes, of course, Mr. Warden saw to everything.
BLANCHE. He will be here any moment!
MASON. When he comes, will you send him on to me, please?
RUTH. Yes.
MASON. Very well. Good-by. [_Shakes hands with_ BLANCHE.] I am very sorry to have been the bearer of such bad news.
MRS. HUNTER. [_Shaking hands with him._] Please overlook anything I may have said; at such a moment, with the loss of all my money--and my dear husband--I don't know _what_ to say!
MASON. Naturally. [_To the others._] Good-by. [_To_ RUTH, _who follows him._] I'll come to see you in the morning.
[_As they shake hands._
RUTH. And I can then tell you what I settle here now. [MASON _goes out Left._] Florence, I'm very sorry--
[_Interrupted._
MRS. HUNTER. Oh! _You!_ Sorry!
RUTH. Yes, very, very sorry,--first, that I spoke as I did just now.
MRS. HUNTER. It's too late to be sorry for that now.
RUTH. No, it isn't, and I'll prove to you I mean it. Come, we'll talk things over.
MRS. HUNTER. Go away! I don't want you to prove anything to me! [MRS. HUNTER _and_ CLARA _sit side by side on the sofa._ BLANCHE _and_ JESSICA _are in chairs near the table._ RUTH _sits beside_ BLANCHE. MRS. HUNTER _has something the manner of porcupines and shows a set determination to accept nothing by way of comfort or expedient._ BLANCHE _looks hopeful and ready to take the helm for the family._ JESSICA _will back up_ BLANCHE.] My happiness in this world is over. What have I to live for?
RUTH. Your children!
MRS. HUNTER. Beggars like myself!
BLANCHE. But your children will work for you.
CLARA. Work! I see myself.
RUTH. So do I.
MRS. HUNTER. My children work! Don't be absurd!
JESSICA. It is not absurd! I can certainly earn my own living somehow and so can Clara.
CLARA. Doing _what_, I should like to know! I see myself!
BLANCHE. Jess is right. I'll take care of this family--father always said I was "his own child." I'll do my best to take his place.
RUTH. I will gladly give Jessica a home.
MRS. HUNTER. [_Whimpers._] You'd rob me of my children, too!
JESSICA. Thank you, Aunt Ruth, but I must stay with mother and be Blanche's right-hand man!
CLARA. I might go on the stage.
MRS. HUNTER. My dear, smart people don't any more.
CLARA. I'd like to be a sort of Anna Held.
JESSICA. I don't see why I couldn't learn typewriting, Blanche?
MRS. HUNTER. Huh! Why, you could never even learn to play the piano; I don't think you'd be much good at typewriting.
CLARA. You want to be a typewriter, because in the papers they always have an old gentleman taking them to theatres and supper! No, sir, if there is to be any "old man's darling" in this family, _I'll_ be _it_!
RUTH. [_Dryly._] You'll have to learn to spell correctly first!
CLARA. [_Superciliously._] Humph!
JESSICA. There are lots of ways nowadays for women to earn their living.
RUTH. Yes, typewriting we will consider.
MRS. HUNTER. Never!
[_No one pays any attention to her except_ CLARA, _who agrees with her._
RUTH. Jess, you learned enough to _teach_, didn't you?--even at that fashionable school your mother sent you to?
JESSICA. Oh, yes, I think I could teach.
MRS. HUNTER. Never!
[_Still no one pays any attention except_ CLARA _who again agrees with her._
CLARA. No, indeed! _I_ wouldn't teach!
BLANCHE. If we only knew some nice elderly woman who wanted a companion, Jess would be a godsend.
CLARA. If she was a nice _old_ lady with lots of money and delicate health, I wouldn't mind that position myself.
RUTH. Clara, you seem to take this matter as a supreme joke!
MRS. HUNTER. [_With mock humility._] May _I_ speak? [_She waits. All turn to her. A moment's, silence._] MAY I speak?
RUTH. Yes, yes. Go on, Florence; don't you see we're listening?
MRS. HUNTER. I didn't know! I've been so completely ignored in this entire conversation. But there is one thing for the girls--the easiest possible way for them to earn their living--which you don't seem for a moment to have thought of!
[_She waits with a smile of coming triumph on her face._
RUTH. Nursing!
MRS. HUNTER. [_Disgusted._] No!
CLARA. Manicuring?
MRS. HUNTER. _Darling!_
BLANCHE. Designing dresses and hats?
MRS. HUNTER. No!
JESSICA. Book-keeping?
MRS. HUNTER. No.
RUTH. Then what in the world is it?
MRS. HUNTER. Marriage!
CLARA. Oh, of course!
RUTH. Humph!
[JESSICA _and_ BLANCHE _exchange glances._
MRS. HUNTER. That young Mr. Trotter would be a fine catch for Jess.
JESSICA. Who loathes him!
MRS. HUNTER. Don't be old-fashioned! He's very nice.
RUTH. A little cad, trying to get into society--nice occupation for a _man_!
JESSICA. Mother, you can't be serious.
CLARA. Why wouldn't he do for _me_?
RUTH. He _would_! The very thing!
MRS. HUNTER. We'll see, darling; I think Europe is the place for you. I don't believe all the titles are gobbled up yet.
RUTH. Jess, I might get you some women friends of mine, to whom you could go mornings and answer their letters.
MRS. HUNTER. I should not allow my daughter to go in that capacity to the house of any woman who had refused to call on her mother, which is the way most of your friends have treated me.
RUTH. Do you realize, Florence, this is a question of bread and butter, a practical suggestion of life, which has nothing whatever to do with the society columns of the daily papers?
MRS. HUNTER. I do _not_ intend that my daughters shall lose their positions because their father has been--what shall we call it--criminally negligent of them.
RUTH. [_Rising._] How dare you! You are to blame for it all. If you say another word injurious to my brother's memory, I'll leave this house and let you starve for all I'll do for you.
BLANCHE. Aunt Ruth, please, for father's sake--
CLARA. Well, this house is ours, anyway!
BLANCHE. That is what _I've_ been thinking of. The house is yours. It's huge. You don't need it. You must either give it up altogether--
MRS. HUNTER. [_Interrupts._] _What! Leave it? My house! Never!_
BLANCHE. Or--let out floors to one or two friends,--bachelor friends. Mr. Mason, perhaps--
CLARA. [_Interrupts, rising, furious._] Take in _boarders_!
MRS. HUNTER. [_Who has listened aghast, now rises in outraged dignity; she stands a moment glaring at_ BLANCHE, _then speaks._] Take--[_She chokes._] _That_ is the _last straw_!
[_And she sweeps from the room Right._
CLARA. Mama! Mama!
[_She goes out after her mother._
[_The other three women watch the two leave the room, then turn and look at each other._
BLANCHE. We'll manage somehow, only I think it would be easier for us to discuss all practical matters by _ourselves_.
RUTH. And I want you to understand this, girls,--I represent your dear father; half of everything I have is yours, and you must promise me always to come to me for everything.
[STERLING _enters suddenly Left._
[_He is a man of thirty-eight or forty, a singularly attractive personality; he is handsome and distinguished. His hair is grayer than his years may account for and his manner betrays a nervous system overtaxed and barely under control. At the moment that he enters he is evidently laboring under some especial, and only half-concealed, nervous strain. In spite of his irritability at times with his wife, there is an undercurrent of tenderness which reveals his real love for_ BLANCHE.
STERLING. Oh, you're all here! Have I missed old Mason?
RUTH. Yes, but Blanche will tell you what he had to say. I'm going upstairs to try and pacify your mother. We mustn't forget she has a hard time ahead of her.
[_She goes out Right with_ JESSICA.
STERLING. I suppose Mason came about the will and your father's affairs?
BLANCHE. Yes, you ought to have been here.
STERLING. [_Irritably._] But I couldn't--I told you I couldn't!
BLANCHE. Do you realize, dear, that you haven't been able to do _anything for me_ for a long time? Lately, even I hardly ever _see_ you--I stay home night after night alone.
STERLING. That's your own fault, dear; Ned Warden's always ready to take you anywhere you like.
BLANCHE. [_With the ghost of a jest._] But do you think it's quite right for me to take up all Mr. Warden's time?
STERLING. Why not, if he likes it?
BLANCHE. And don't you think people will soon talk?
STERLING. Darling! People always talk, and who cares!
BLANCHE. It's months since you showed me any sign of affection, and now when my heart is hungrier than ever for it,--you know how I loved my father,--I long for sympathy from _you_, and you haven't once thought to take me, your wife, in your arms and hold me close and comfort me.
STERLING. I'm sorry, old girl, I'm really sorry. [_Embracing her affectionately._] And surely you know I don't love any other woman in the world but you. [_He kisses her._] It's only because I've been terribly worried. I don't want to bother you with business, but I've been in an awful hole for money. I tried to make a big coup in Wall Street the other day and only succeeded getting in deeper, and for the last few days I've been nearly distracted.
BLANCHE. Why didn't you tell me?
STERLING. I thought I'd get out of it with this Consolidated Copper without worrying you.
BLANCHE. You were in that, too?
STERLING. How do you mean I, "too"?
BLANCHE. Mr. Mason has just told us _father_ lost everything in it.
STERLING. [_Aghast._] You don't mean your father hasn't left any money?
BLANCHE. Nothing.
STERLING. [_Forgetting everything but what this means to him._] Nothing! But I was counting on your share to save me! What did the damned old fool mean?
BLANCHE. Dick!
STERLING. Forgive me, I didn't mean to say that.
BLANCHE. Oh, _who are you_! _What_ are you! You are not the man I thought when I married you! Every day something new happens to frighten me, to threaten my love for you!
STERLING. No, no, don't say that, old girl.
[_He tries to take her hand._
BLANCHE. What right have you to criticise my father, to curse him--and to-day!
STERLING. I don't know what I'm saying, Blanche. Try to forgive me. I wouldn't have thought of such a thing as his money to-day if it wasn't the only thing that can save me from--disgrace.
[_His voice sinking almost to a whisper and the man himself sinking into a chair._
BLANCHE. Disgrace! How? What disgrace?
[_Going to him._
STERLING. I can't explain it; you wouldn't understand.
BLANCHE. You must explain it! _Your_ disgrace is _mine_.
STERLING. [_Alarmed at having said so much, tries to retract a little._] Disgrace was too strong a word--I didn't mean that. I'm in trouble. I'm in trouble. Good God, can't you see it? And if you love me, why don't you leave me alone?
BLANCHE. How can I go on loving you without your confidence?--without ever being suffered to give you any sympathy? Doll wives are out of fashion, and even if they weren't, I could never be one.
STERLING. [_Laughing._] My dear, I'd never accuse you of being stuffed with sawdust.
BLANCHE. Oh, and now you joke about it. Take care, Dick.
STERLING. What's this, a threat?
BLANCHE. Yes, if you like to call it that. You've been putting me more and more completely out of your life; take care that I don't finish your work and go the last step.
STERLING. [_Seizing her roughly by the wrist._] The last step! What do you mean by that? [_Holding her hand more roughly._] _You dare_ to be unfaithful to me!
BLANCHE. What! You could think I meant that! Ugh! How could you?
STERLING. Well, what did you mean then? Eh?
[_Pulling her up close to him, her face close to his. She realizes first by the odor, then by a searching look at his face, that he is partly under the influence of liquor._
BLANCHE. [_With pathetic shame._] Let me go! I see what's the matter with you, but the reason is no excuse; you've been drinking.
STERLING. [_Dropping her hand._] Ugh! The usual whimper of a woman!
[RUTH _reënters Right._
RUTH. Well, Blanche, dear, your mother's in a calmer frame of mind, and I must go. Dick, can you lunch with me to-morrow?
STERLING. [_Hesitating, not caring about it._] Er--to-morrow?--er--
RUTH. Oh, only for business. I must have a new business man now to do all that _he_ did for me, and I'm going to try to make up to you for not having been always your--_best_ friend, by putting my affairs in _your_ hands.
BLANCHE. [_Serious, uneasy, almost frightened._] Aunt Ruth--
[_She stops._
RUTH. What, dear?
BLANCHE. Nothing.
[_She gives_ STERLING _a searching, steady look and keeps her eyes upon him, trying to read his real self._
RUTH. [_Continues to_ STERLING.] Mr. Mason is coming to me in the morning, and if you will lunch with me at one, I will then be able to give all the papers over to you.
[STERLING, _who up to this time has been almost dumbfounded by this sudden good fortune, now collects himself, and speaks delightedly but with sufficient reserve of his feelings._ BLANCHE _does not take her eyes from_ STERLING'S _face._
STERLING. Aunt Ruth, I thank you from the bottom of my heart, and I will do my best.
BLANCHE. [_Quickly._] Promise her, Dick, before me--give her your word of honor--you will be faithful to Aunt Ruth's trust.
[_He answers_ BLANCHE'S _look steadily with a hard gaze of his own._
RUTH. His acceptance of my trust is equal to that, Blanche.
BLANCHE. It is of course, isn't it, Dick?
STERLING. Of course.
[BLANCHE _is not content, but has to satisfy herself with this._
RUTH. To-morrow at one, then.
[_She starts to go._
[JORDAN _enters Left._
JORDAN. Mr. Warden.
RUTH. I can't wait. Good-by.
[_She goes out Left._
BLANCHE. We will see Mr. Warden.
JORDAN. Yes, madam.
[_He goes out Left._
STERLING. Blanche, go to your mother and ask her to see Ned to thank him. I want a minute's talk with him if you don't mind.
BLANCHE. [_Pathetically._] What difference does it make, Dick, if I _do_ mind?
STERLING. Don't say that, old girl, and don't think it.
BLANCHE. Dick, you _are_ honest, aren't you?
STERLING. [_Without flinching._] What a question, Blanche!
[JORDAN _enters Left announcing "Mr. Warden."_ WARDEN _enters, and_ JORDAN _goes out._
[EDWARD WARDEN, _though in reality scarcely younger than_ STERLING, _looks at least ten years his junior. He is good-looking, practical, a reasoning being, and self-controlled. He is a thorough American, with the fresh and strong ideals of his race, and with the feeling of romance alive in the bottom of his heart._
STERLING. [_In enormous relief, greets him joyfully._] Ned, what do you think! The greatest news going!
BLANCHE. Dick!
STERLING. Excuse me, Blanche, I forgot; but Ned will know how I can't help being glad.
[WARDEN _goes to_ MRS. STERLING.
BLANCHE. [_Shaking_ NED'S _hand._] And Mr. Warden knows nothing could make me "_glad_" to-day. Thank you for all your kindness--
WARDEN. Don't thank me; it was nothing.
BLANCHE. Yes, please let me thank you all I can; it won't be half what I feel, but I want to know that you know even my silence is full of gratitude for all you've done for my mother, sisters, and me.
STERLING. Yes, we're all immensely indebted to you, Ned, old man.
BLANCHE. I will tell mother. I know she wants to see you.
[_She goes out Right._
STERLING. [_Speaking with suppressed excitement and uncontrollable gladness, unable to keep it back any longer._] Ned, my wife's aunt, Miss Hunter, has put all her business in my hands.
WARDEN. Made you her agent?
STERLING. Yes! What a godsend! Hunter didn't leave a cent.
[_A moment's pause of astonishment._]
WARDEN. What do you mean?
STERLING. It seems he's been losing for a long time. Everything he had he lost in the copper crash.
WARDEN. But this is awful! What will Mrs. Hunter and her two young daughters do?
STERLING. I don't know. I hadn't thought of that.
WARDEN. You'll have to think of it.
STERLING. I?
WARDEN. Of course you'll have to help them.
STERLING. I can't! Look here, I didn't tell you the truth about my affairs last week, when I struck you for that loan.
WARDEN. You don't mean to say you weren't straight with me?
STERLING. Oh, I only didn't want to frighten you till I'd got the money; if you had made me the loan, I'd have owned up afterwards all right enough.
WARDEN. Owned up what?
STERLING. That I told you a pack of lies--that I haven't any security!--that I haven't anything but _debts_.
WARDEN. [_Strongly._] Good things to borrow on! Look here, Dick, how long have we been friends?
STERLING. Since that day at boarding school when you took a licking for something I did.
WARDEN. What I mean is we were pals at school, chums at college, stanch friends for twenty years.
STERLING. Hell! Are we as old as all that?
WARDEN. Inseparable friends till the last two years.
[STERLING'S _eyes shift._
STERLING. I've been overworked lately, and everything has gone wrong!
WARDEN. [_Comes up to him, and speaks firmly but still friendly._] You _yourself_ have _gone wrong_!
STERLING. [_On the defensive._] What do you mean?
WARDEN. Why did you take your business out of my hands?
STERLING. The law didn't pay me enough. I thought I'd try a little amateur stockbroking.
[_Smiling insincerely._
WARDEN. You didn't want _me to know_ what you were doing!
STERLING. Rats!
WARDEN. You didn't want me to know what funds--_whose_ funds--you were using--_mis_using.
STERLING. [_Ugly._] What!
WARDEN. Whose money you were gambling with!
STERLING. Have you been spying on me?
WARDEN. Your _wife's_ money!
STERLING. Well, she's _my_ wife, and you don't know what you're talking about!
[_He turns from him and picks up a book from the table upside down and pretends to read it._
WARDEN. You stole from me once when you were a boy!
STERLING. No! I didn't!
[_Throwing the book down._
WARDEN. You lie! Do you hear me? _You lie!_ [_He waits a second._ STERLING _does nothing._] I was never sure till to-day! I fought against ever thinking it, believing my suspicions were an injustice to you, but little things were always disappearing out of my rooms--finally, even money. Lately, that old suspicion has come back with a fuller force, and to-day it became a certainty.
STERLING. How to-day?
WARDEN. Because if it weren't true, you'd have knocked me down just now when I called you first a thief and _twice_ a liar!
[_He stands squarely facing him._ STERLING _stands facing him also, surprised, taken off his guard._
STERLING. Oh, come, you're joking! [WARDEN _makes an angry exclamation._] Why're you telling me all this now?
WARDEN. Because I want you to be careful. I want you to know some one is watching you! Some one who knows what you've come to! Some one who knows you can't resist temptation! Some one who knows money not yours _has_ stuck to your fingers!
STERLING. You mind your own business.
WARDEN. I'll mind _yours_ if it's necessary to protect people who are dear to me!
[STERLING _looks at him with a sudden suspicion._
STERLING. [_Insinuatingly._] I didn't know you were particularly attached to Mrs. Hunter.
WARDEN. I'm not.
STERLING. Or to her two unmarried daughters!
WARDEN. Nor am I!
STERLING. [_With whispered intensity._] By God, if you are in love with my wife!
WARDEN. If you thought that out loud, I'd knock you down!
STERLING. Huh! you talk as if you thought I were a coward!
WARDEN. No, not a _physical_ coward--I've seen you do too many plucky things--but a _moral_ coward--yes, you are one!
[_Straight to him, standing close and looking him squarely in the eyes._
STERLING. [_Wavering._] Oh, you're too damned preachy!
[MRS. HUNTER _enters Right with_ CLARA. MRS. HUNTER _shakes hands with_ WARDEN _silently, happy in the feeling that she is in great affliction, and satisfied with the appearance and impression she is making. She carries her handkerchief, with its black border, ready in her hand._ CLARA _has silently shaken hands with_ WARDEN, _after her mother. She afterwards goes to_ STERLING _and hands him several of the letters of condolence. She then goes to the window at Left, pulling aside the curtain, and stands looking out, rather bored, wishing she could go out and take a walk._
MRS. HUNTER. We will never forget your kindness. Will the evening papers have anything in, do you think?
WARDEN. No, not before morning.
MRS. HUNTER. [_Sighs._] Every one was there.
STERLING. Where's Blanche?
MRS. HUNTER. Upstairs. She said she was going after Aunt Ruth.
STERLING. [_Frightened._] After Aunt Ruth? [_Strongly._] What for?
MRS. HUNTER. I don't know. [_Whimpering._] I'm not considered in the family any longer!
STERLING. I shall stop and take her home.
[JORDAN _enters._
JORDAN. Will you see visitors, madam?
STERLING. No.
[_He goes out Right._
MRS. HUNTER. "No"? Yes, we will! I need to see some one, or I shall break down. Go upstairs, Clara!
CLARA. No, _why_ need I?
MRS. HUNTER. You're not out yet.
CLARA. I don't care! At this rate I'll never get "out." Who are they, Jordan?
JORDAN. Miss Sillerton, Miss Godesby, and Mr. Trotter, miss.
WARDEN. I must go, Mrs. Hunter.
MRS. HUNTER. [_Relieved._] So sorry. Could you go straight to Mr. Mason? He wishes to see you?
[_Shaking hands._
WARDEN. Certainly.
MRS. HUNTER. Thank you.
[WARDEN _inclines his head to_ CLARA.
CLARA. [_Lightly._] Good-by!
[WARDEN _goes out Left._
MRS. HUNTER. I don't think we ought to receive Mr. Trotter.
CLARA. Pshaw! why not? If there's really any idea of my mar--
[_She stops short, silenced by a look from her mother and an indication toward_ JORDAN.
MRS. HUNTER. Show them up, Jordan. [JORDAN _bows and goes out._] How do I look, dear?
[_Arranges her handkerchief._
CLARA. [_Looking in the mirror._] How do I?
MRS. HUNTER. [_With her back to_ CLARA.] I asked you first how _I_ looked!
CLARA. [_Not observing._] Oh, you're all right, how am I?
MRS. HUNTER. [_Not looking at_ CLARA.] Charming! We'll go upstairs and come down again; I don't think it nice to be found here as if we were expecting visitors.
[_They go out Right._
[JORDAN _steps into the room to announce the visitors, and seeing no one there, bows as the three pass him._
JORDAN. The ladies will be down at once.
[_He goes out Right._
[_The three turn, looking about the room with curiosity, as if the funeral might have made some difference in the house._
[MISS SILLERTON _is a handsome, attractive woman, most fashionably dressed and perfectly conventional in character and intelligence._ MISS GODESBY _is a little slow, more assertive, sharper of tongue, more acutely intelligent, and equally smartly dressed. She has still a remnant of real, sincere feeling buried under a cynical mask which her life in a fast set has developed for her self-preservation._ TROTTER _is a foolish young person, meaning well enough according to his lights, which are not of the biggest and brightest._
TROTTER. Classy house altogether!
MISS SILLERTON. Mrs. Hunter went to the most expensive decorator in town, and told him, no matter what it cost, to go ahead and do his _worst_!
[_They all laugh and seat themselves comfortably._
TROTTER. Say! The youngest daughter is a good looker--very classy.
MISS SILLERTON. That's the one we told you about, the one we want you to marry.
MISS GODESBY. Yes, with your money and her cleverness, she'll rubber neck you into the smartest push in town!
TROTTER. You've promised I shall know the whole classy lot before spring.
MISS GODESBY. So you will if you do as we tell you. But you mustn't let society see that you _know_ you're getting in; nothing pleases society so much as to think you're a blatant idiot. It makes everybody feel you're their equal--that's why you get in.
TROTTER. I've got a coach and can drive four-in-hand. I've an automobile drag, and the biggest private yacht in the world building. I'm going to have the most expensive house in Long Island, where the oysters come from, and I've bought a lot in Newport twice as big as the swellest fellow's there. I've got a house in London and a flat in Paris, and I make money fly. I think I ought to be a cinch as a classy success.
MISS GODESBY. Don't be a yap; flag Clara Hunter and you're all right!
MISS SILLERTON. Her father's position was the best in this country!
TROTTER. But he's dead.
[_Sitting._
MISS GODESBY. A good thing for you, for he would never have stood for you!
TROTTER. He'd have had to--or do without me as a son-in-law--I wouldn't marry the Venus of Milo if her father didn't think I was good enough. I'm no Dodo bird!
MISS GODESBY. It's up to you now, Trotter! Go in and win.
[_Enter_ TOMPSON _Right; a decided change takes place in all their manners._
TOMPSON. Madam will be down at once, miss.
MISS SILLERTON. Thank you.
[TOMPSON _goes out Right._
MISS GODESBY. Only stay a minute or two, Trotty--we're doing our best for you, but we must look out for ourselves, too, and we've come here to-day on business.
MISS SILLERTON. How'll we ever get the subject on to clothes?
MISS GODESBY. Humph! Do you think you can talk five minutes with Mrs. Hunter and not hit that topic? It's a bull's eye!
TROTTER. I don't see where I'm going to come into this classy conversation.
MISS GODESBY. You see, Trotty, they brought over piles of clothes from Europe this year, and we want to get hold of them before any one else has a chance--get 'em cheap before they have an idea anybody else'll buy them.
TROTTER. Who buy what?
MISS SILLERTON. _We_--buy their winter clothes.
TROTTER. For Heaven's sake!
MISS GODESBY. Laugh, you silly! I heard the Reed girls planning to come to-morrow. They didn't dare come to-day. Those girls haven't any sand! They're always getting left.
TROTTER. You two _are_ Dodo birds!
MISS GODESBY. I say, Eleanor, you're such a lobster about prices and Mrs. Hunter's no idiot, we'd better agree on some sort of a signal! Listen! if you like a gown very much, ask the price, then say to me, "My dear, your hat pin is coming out." And if I think it's a bargain, I'll say, "So it is, thank you; won't you put it in for me?" And if I think Mrs. Hunter's trying to stick you, I'll say "No, it isn't; it's always like that."
MISS SILLERTON. All right.
[MRS. HUNTER _and_ CLARA _enter Right. The manner of_ MISS SILLERTON _and_ MISS GODESBY _changes immediately. They speak with rather subdued voices, in the tone of conventional sympathy which is usually adopted on such occasions._ MRS. HUNTER _also assumes the manner of a martyr to grief._ CLARA _is casual and hard._
MISS SILLERTON. [_Shakes hands with_ MRS. HUNTER.] Dear Mrs. Hunter.
[_She kisses her._
Clara, dear.
[_She kisses her._
[MISS GODESBY _goes to_ MRS. HUNTER _and shakes hands while_ MISS SILLERTON _crosses to_ CLARA; _Trotter shakes hands with_ MRS. HUNTER _as_ MISS GODESBY _goes to_ CLARA.
TROTTER. I hope you don't think my coming an intrusion.
MRS. HUNTER. Not at all.
MISS GODESBY. I felt we must stop in for a few minutes to give you our love and sympathy and find out how you are.
MRS. HUNTER. I've been through a terrible strain. My loss is even greater than I could ever possibly imagine.
CLARA. [_Who misinterprets her mother's remark._] Yes, indeed, I should say it was!
[MRS. HUNTER _stops her with a warning look._
MRS. HUNTER. But every one has been most kind. _Lady Hopeton_ sent me a beautiful long letter to-day.
MISS GODESBY. And I'm glad to find you looking so well. Black _suits_ you!
[_She exchanges a knowing glance with_ MISS SILLERTON.
MRS. HUNTER. Oh, I don't know, Julia; I've always thought black very _trying_ for me.
MISS GODESBY. Oh, _no! every one's_ saying _just_ the reverse!
MRS. HUNTER. But--I suppose clothes don't interest you, Mr. Trotter?
TROTTER. Oh, yes, they do, out of sight!
CLARA. Well, I wish you could have seen the beautiful things we brought over with us!
MISS SILLERTON. Julia and I were just speaking about it, and pitying you from the bottom of our hearts.
[MISS SILLERTON _and_ MISS GODESBY _again exchange surreptitious glances._
MRS. HUNTER. Every one's been most kind.
[_There is an awkward pause for a moment, no one knowing quite what to say. Both_ MISS GODESBY _and_ MISS SILLERTON _have started the conversation in the direction of clothing and are fearful of the topic being changed. As the pause becomes embarrassing, they look helplessly from one to the other, and all five, suddenly and at once, make an ineffectual effort to say something--or nothing. Out of the general confusion_ MRS. HUNTER _comes to the front, mistress of the situation._] Are you going to stay in New York this winter, Mr. Trotter?
TROTTER. Yes, I'm negotiating for one of the biggest classy building plots on upper Fifth Avenue.
CLARA. [_To_ MISS GODESBY.] I saw in the papers you were at the dance last night.
[MISS GODESBY _nods and motions surreptitiously to_ TROTTER _to go. He, however, doesn't understand._
MRS. HUNTER. [_With interest again in life._] Oh, _were you?_ What did you wear?
MISS GODESBY. Oh, dowdy old things. I haven't bought my winter frocks yet.
[_She repeats this casually as if to herself._
[MISS SILLERTON _motions to_ TROTTER _to go, but he has forgotten and still doesn't understand._
TROTTER. What?
MISS GODESBY. You warned us not to let you forget your engagement!
TROTTER. What engagement?
MISS SILLERTON. How do we know! we only know you said you _had_ to go!
TROTTER. Never said so! Oh! [_As it dawns upon him._] Oh, yes! of course. [_He rises._] Very sorry--must be off. Only dropped in--er--that is, came in to express my respectful sympathy.
[_Shaking hands with_ MRS. HUNTER.
MRS. HUNTER. [_Who rises._] I hope you will come and see us again.
CLARA. Do! It'll be a godsend! We'll be dull as ditchwater here this winter!
TROTTER. I shall be delighted to call again. Good-by. [_He bows to Clara. In his embarrassment he starts to shake hands all over again, but, realizing his mistake, laughs nervously._] Oh, I have already.
MISS SILLERTON. Good-by, Trotter.
MISS GODESBY. Don't forget we're booked with you at Sherry's.
TROTTER. Whose treat?
MISS GODESBY. Oh! _Yours_, of course--
TROTTER. I say, why can't I stay? I won't interfere.
MRS. HUNTER. Oh, do stay, Mr. Trotter!
MISS GODESBY. Oh, do stay!
[_Suggesting by her tone that he mustn't dare to remain._
CLARA. Good!
[TROTTER _remains, and they all settle themselves again for a long stay._
MRS. HUNTER. By the way, you were speaking just now of your winter frocks. It occurs to me--of course I don't know as I really want to dispose of them, but--er--
[_She hesitates purposely._
MISS GODESBY. Oh, _would_ you? [_Rising, she takes a chair nearer to_ MRS. HUNTER.] You _dear_ thing!
MRS. HUNTER. The dresses are no use to us now, and when _we're_ out of mourning--_they'll_ be out of style. You could wear Jess' things perfectly, Julia.
MISS SILLERTON. And even something of yours could be made over for us.
MRS. HUNTER. But I'm so much older than you!
MISS SILLERTON. [_Thoughtlessly._] Yes, but you never dress appropriately to your age.
CLARA. [_Laughing delightedly._] That's pretty good!
MISS SILLERTON. [_Saves herself._] You know what I mean, you always _look_ so _youthful_, you _can't_ dress any older.
MRS. HUNTER. [_Rising._] Clara, dear, go upstairs and have Tompson bring down my Worth dress and Jess' Doucet and your Paquin. [_She goes with_ CLARA _to the door, Right, and then whispers to her._] If you remember, don't tell what we paid--we ought to get nearly double out of these girls--and warn Tompson not to be surprised at anything she hears.
[MISS GODESBY _and_ MISS SILLERTON _exchange glances._ CLARA _goes out Right._
MRS. HUNTER. It seems as if I had no further interest in clothes, anyway.
MISS GODESBY. Don't say that. Every one I've seen this afternoon is wildly enthusiastic over your mourning.
MRS. HUNTER. Well, I went straight to Madame O'Hoolihan and gave her carte blank!
MISS GODESBY. I wouldn't like to be the ice man when your bill comes in!--and clothes abroad are so much cheaper.
MRS. HUNTER. [_Thoughtlessly._] Oh, _half!_
MISS GODESBY. [_Quickly._] You see you'll be doing us a really great favor letting us have some of your things!
MRS. HUNTER. [_Realizing her nearly fatal error._] Oh! Oh, yes--but--er--I must say that _we_ found prices while in Paris _this year_ rather _atrocious!_
[CLARA _reënters Right._
CLARA. [_Sighs._] O dear! It breaks my heart not to wear my ball dress, my dear Julia; it was designed specially for me. I told Marie to put it on, mama; my clothes fit her perfectly, and I thought it would show so much better what it is.
MRS. HUNTER. Here they are.
[_Rises as_ TOMPSON _enters Right._
TOMPSON. Mrs. Hunter's reception gown.
[_Displaying it._
CLARA. Oh, this _is_ a beauty!
[_She takes the costume and drapes it over a chair._ MISS GODESBY _and_ MISS SILLERTON _come closer to examine._
MRS. HUNTER. Tompson.--[_Taking her to one side, whispers._]--I forget; do you remember what I paid for this dress?
TOMPSON. [_Whispers back._] One hundred and sixty dollars, madam.
MRS. HUNTER. Oh, yes. Don't say anything. [_Returning to the others._] Do you like it?
MISS SILLERTON. Perfectly lovely! } } [_At the same time._ MISS GODESBY. Immensely. It's great! }
MRS. HUNTER. [_Hesitates._] I forget just what I paid for it, but I believe it was two hundred dollars.
[CLARA _half exclaims in astonishment, but on being pinched surreptitiously on the arm by_ MRS. HUNTER _she grasps the situation and starts in to do her share._
CLARA. Oh, no, mama! I'm sure it was more than that!
MRS. HUNTER. Well, perhaps it was two--twenty or two--twenty-five.
TROTTER. That's cheap, isn't it?
MISS GODESBY. Shut up.
[TOMPSON'S _face is always a perfect blank, showing no expression or surprise; she has lived with_ MRS. HUNTER _for many years and "knows her business."_
MISS GODESBY. [_In a very different tone of voice, influenced by the big price._] Of course, I see it's made of the best material. But it isn't my color.
MRS. HUNTER. It's the very latest shade.
MISS GODESBY. Yes, I know; but I think as you said a little while ago, perhaps it is a trifle too old for me.
MRS. HUNTER. I might let you have it for a little less; say one hundred and eighty.
MISS GODESBY. Thank you very much. I'll think it over.
MISS SILLERTON. What's the other?
CLARA. This is a dinner dress of Jess'.
[_Holding it up to her own waist._
MISS SILLERTON. [_Carried away by the dress._] Oh, lovely,--perfectly charming,--an adorable gown!
[MISS GODESBY _pulls her arm and tries to make her less enthusiastic._
MISS GODESBY. [_To_ CLARA _and_ MRS. HUNTER.] Excuse me.
[_She takes_ MISS SILLERTON _to one side and whispers in her ear._
MISS SILLERTON. [_Aloud._] I can't help it. I'm crazy about the dress!
[_Meanwhile_ MRS. HUNTER _and_ TOMPSON _have whispered together._
MRS. HUNTER. They said themselves this was the most successful frock they turned out this autumn.
MISS SILLERTON. And how much is _this_ one?
MRS. HUNTER. [_Very quickly, trying not to speak consciously._] This was two hundred and seventy-five.
[CLARA _bites her lips in surprise and winks visibly to_ TOMPSON, _who gives no sign and is otherwise imperturbable._
MISS SILLERTON. [_To_ MISS GODESBY, _looking hard at her._] My dear, your hat pin is coming out!
MISS GODESBY. [_Looking hard at her._] No, it isn't; it's always like that.
MISS SILLERTON. [_Going closer to her, whispers._] Which does that mean? I forget!
MISS GODESBY. It's a _gouge_!
MISS SILLERTON. I can't help it; I can't resist.
MISS HUNTER. [_Whispers to_ CLARA.] She's going to take it; I wish I'd asked more.
MISS SILLERTON. Mrs. Hunter, I'll _take_ the dinner dress! I'm crazy about it!
MRS. HUNTER. I'm glad to have you have it; I'm glad to be able to do you, in a way, a favor.
[MARIE _at this moment enters dressed in the most exquisite ball dress of the very latest fashion and looks extremely lovely._
CLARA. Here's mine! I could cry to think I'll never wear it!
MARIE. _Voila_, madame!
[_A short silence, while the women sit down and drink in the gown._
MISS SILLERTON. [_In a subdued voice of awed admiration._] Beautiful!
MISS GODESBY. Great!
TROTTER. [_To_ MISS GODESBY.] _I'm_ stuck on the _girl_; introduce me. She's out of sight!
[MRS. HUNTER _sighs long and loud,--a sigh of appreciation and admiration._ MARIE _stands in the centre of the stage facing the audience._
MISS GODESBY. May we see her back?
CLARA. Her _entire_ back, if she turns around!
MRS. HUNTER. Turn around, Marie.
MARIE. _Oui_, madame.
[_She turns her back--the dress is cut extremely in the back._
MISS SILLERTON. Oh!
MISS GODESBY. Rather!
MRS. HUNTER. The way everything is made this year.
MISS GODESBY. I'm afraid my back is rather full of bones.
CLARA. They told us in Paris, bones were coming in! [_She takes a large American beauty rose from a vase on the piano and slips it down_ MARIE'S _back so that the dress seems much less décolleté._] There, never too late to mend!
MISS GODESBY. How much is this one?
[MISS GODESBY _and_ MISS SILLERTON _examine the dress._
CLARA. [_Whispers to_ MRS. HUNTER.] You paid two hundred for it!
MRS. HUNTER. Three hundred dollars. It is really superb.
MISS SILLERTON. [_Pulling_ MISS GODESBY _around quickly._] My dear, your hat pin is coming out!
MISS GODESBY. Don't be absurd!
MISS SILLERTON. What?
MISS GODESBY. It's my turn, sit down; you got the last! You won't mind my being frank, Mrs. Hunter?
MRS. HUNTER. [_On the defensive._] Certainly not.
MISS GODESBY. I think the price is too much.
TROTTER. Oh, go on, pay it!
MISS GODESBY. Will you sign the check?
TROTTER. _Excuse me!_
CLARA. I'd give twice that if only I could wear it to one ball this winter!
MRS. HUNTER. I wouldn't part with it for a penny less. I couldn't afford to.
[_The manners and voices of all become a little strained._
MISS GODESBY. That is of course your affair.
MRS. HUNTER. [_Politely._] We needn't keep Marie any longer, at any rate, need we? You can go, Marie, and you too, Tompson.
[CLARA _and_ MRS. HUNTER _help place the other dresses on_ TOMPSON'S _arms._
MISS SILLERTON. [_To_ MISS GODESBY, _on the opposite side of the room, in a lowered voice._] I'll take it; I'm willing to pay that.
MISS GODESBY. Don't you dare interfere! I want the gown, but I know she'll come down,--if she doesn't, I'll make a bluff at going. Then if she sticks to her price, I'll come back and pay it.
[_They turn to_ MRS. HUNTER.
MISS SILLERTON. Oh, Mrs. Hunter, may I see my dress just one more minute?
MRS. HUNTER. Certainly.
[_She and_ CLARA _come back with the dress._
MARIE. [_To_ TOMPSON _by the door at Right._]
_Vite!_ Come! Come! Jordan 'ave stole ze photograph machine of Mees Clara, and he make now one pigsher of me in ze dress!
[_Smiling mischievously, delighted, she goes out Right._
MISS SILLERTON. Thank you.
[_She leaves her dress._
MRS. HUNTER. Take this too, Tompson.
TOMPSON. Yes, madam.
[MRS. HUNTER _speaks to_ TOMPSON, _aside, and_ CLARA, _near them, watches the two visitors out of the corner of her eye._
MISS GODESBY. [_Aside to_ MISS SILLERTON.] I'll leave my muff; that'll be a good excuse to come back.
TROTTER. [_Also in a lowered voice to_ MISS GODESBY.] Dodo!
[TOMPSON _goes out Right._
[MRS. HUNTER _and_ CLARA _come back._
MISS GODESBY. You really couldn't take less than three hundred?
MRS. HUNTER. I wish I could if only for your own sake; but I really couldn't in justice to myself.
MISS GODESBY. I'm very sorry--and I'm afraid we must be going now.
MRS. HUNTER. [_Not believing they will go._] Oh, must you? Well, it was very kind of you to come.
[MISS GODESBY _leaves her muff upon the table at the Left._
MISS SILLERTON. [_Shakes hands with_ MRS. HUNTER.] Good-by.
[_She goes on to_ CLARA.
[MISS GODESBY _comes to shake hands with_ MRS. HUNTER.
MRS. HUNTER. I think you're making a mistake not to take the dress, Julia dear.
MISS GODESBY. Perhaps, but I really can't go more than two hundred and fifty.
[MRS. HUNTER _looks surreptitiously at_ CLARA, _who slyly shakes her head to her mother._
MRS. HUNTER. Oh, quite impossible!
MISS GODESBY. Good-by.
MRS. HUNTER. Good-by.
MISS GODESBY. Good-by, Clara.
MRS. HUNTER. [_Frightened._] Would you like to see the dress off?
MISS GODESBY. Oh, my dear, it was as _off_ as I would ever like to see it. Good-by.
MRS. HUNTER. Good-by. [MISS SILLERTON _and_ MISS GODESBY _get to doorway Left._] You _won't_ take it?
MISS GODESBY. _Can't!_ Good-by.
CLARA. [_Dryly._] You're forgetting your muff!
TROTTER. Rubber!
MISS GODESBY. [_Coming back for it._] How stupid!
[_She goes away to the door again in silence, which is full of suspense for all of them. As she reaches the door_ MRS. HUNTER _speaks._
MRS. HUNTER. Look here, Julia, don't say another word; you shall have the dress for two hundred and fifty.
MISS GODESBY. [_Rushing back, followed by all the others._] You dear! I'm afraid you think I've been rather nasty!
MRS. HUNTER. Oh, no, of course business is business, and I'd _rather you_ had it than see it wasted on some of our other friends who'd be sights in it!
MISS SILLERTON. Good-by. [_Kisses her this time._] I haven't said half I feel; you've been in my thoughts all these last few days.
MRS. HUNTER. Thank you, dear.
[_Kisses her._
MISS GODESBY. Shall we send around for the dresses in the morning?
MRS. HUNTER. Or I'll send them.
MISS GODESBY. No, we won't trouble you.
MISS SILLERTON. Good-by!
MRS. HUNTER AND CLARA. Good-by!
[MISS SILLERTON _and_ MISS GODESBY _go out Left, followed by_ TROTTER, _who has joined in all the good-bys, and upon whom_ CLARA _has more or less continuously kept her "weather eye."_
MRS. HUNTER. I'm perfectly sure if I'd stuck to three hundred, Julia Godesby would have sent around when she got home and paid it!
CLARA. I'm glad you didn't run the risk though, for we'll need every cent we can get now.
[_She runs her fingers rapidly over the piano keys._
[BLANCHE _reënters Right._
MRS. HUNTER. Why, I thought you'd gone long ago.
BLANCHE. Jess begged me to stay with her. Try to understand her, mother; I think she will miss father more than any of us.
[JORDAN _enters Left._
JORDAN. Mr. Warden has come back, madam.
[WARDEN _enters Left._
WARDEN. Forgive my intruding so soon again, but did Mr. Mason leave a letter case of Mr. Hunter's here?
[BLANCHE _begins looking for the case._
MRS. HUNTER. I haven't seen it; I'll ask the servants to look. Excuse me, I'm quite tired out; we've been receiving a long visit of condolence.
[_She goes out, Right, with_ CLARA, _who links her arm in her mother's._
BLANCHE. [_Finding the case, which has fallen beneath the table._] Here it is. Dear old pocket-book--
[_Her voice breaks on the last word, and turning her face away to hide her tears, she hands him the well-worn letter case._
WARDEN. Mrs. Sterling, I'm glad they left us alone, because Mr. Mason said he hadn't been able to manage it--to see you alone--and yet he wanted _you only_ to examine these. They are private papers of Mr. Hunter; he thought they ought not to be destroyed without being read, and yet _he_ hesitated to read them. We thought that duty devolved best upon _you_. [_He hands back the letter case._] Shall I wait and take back the case to Mr. Mason with the papers you wish him to have?
BLANCHE. Oh, no, I will send them; I mustn't keep you while I read them. I'm always taking more of your time than I ought.
WARDEN. [_Speaks with sincerity, but without any suggestion of love-making._] But never as much as I want to give you! Don't forget, Mrs. Sterling, what you promised me at your wedding,--that your husband's best man should be your best friend.
BLANCHE. And nobody knows what it means to a woman, even a happily married woman like me--[_This is spoken with a slight effort, as if she is persuading herself that she is a happily married woman._]--to have an honest friend like you. It's those people who have failed that say there is no such thing as a platonic friendship.
WARDEN. We'll prove them wrong.
BLANCHE. We will. Good-by, and thank you.
WARDEN. And thank _you_! [_Starting to go, he turns._] Shall I bring that Russian pianist around to play for you some day next week?
BLANCHE. Do--I want some music.
WARDEN. Only let me know what day. [_He goes out Left._ BLANCHE _sits by the table and opens the case. She looks first at a memoranda and reads what is on the outside._] A business memoranda. Lists of bonds. [_She opens and looks at the next paper only a second, and then closes it._] This, Mr. Mason will understand better than I. [_She puts it back in the pocket case. She finds a photograph in the case._] My picture!--[_She looks for others, but finds none._]--and _only_ mine! Oh, father!... [_She wipes away tears from her eyes so as to see the picture, which is an old one._] Father, I returned _your_ love. [_She reads on the back of photograph._] "Blanche, my darling daughter, at fourteen years of age!" That's mine! that's my own! [_And she puts the picture away separately. She takes up a small packet of very old love-letters tied with faded old pink tape._] Old letters from mother; they must be her love-letters. She shall have them,--they may soften her. [_She takes up a slip of paper and reads on the outside._] This is something for Mason, too. [_She puts it back in the case. She takes up a sealed envelope, blank._] Nothing on it, and sealed. [_She looks at it a moment, thinking._] Father, did you want this opened? If you didn't, why not have destroyed it? Ah! I needn't be afraid; _you_ had nothing to hide from the world. [_Tearing it open, she reads._] "I have discovered my son-in-law, Richard Sterling, in irregular business dealing. He is not honest. I will watch him as long as I live; but when you read this, Mason, keep your eye upon him for my daughter's sake. He has been warned by me--he may never trip again, and her happiness lies in ignorance." [_She starts, and looks about her to make sure she is alone. She then sits staring ahead for a few seconds; then she speaks._] My boy's father dishonest! Disgrace--he owned it--threatening _my_ boy! It mustn't come! It mustn't! _I'll_ watch now. [_She goes to the fireplace, tearing the paper as she crosses the room, she burns the letter; then she gathers up the other letters and the pocket case._] He must give me his word of honor over Richard's little bed to-night that he will do nothing to ever make the boy ashamed of bearing his father's name!
[_She watches to see that every piece of the paper burns, as_
THE CURTAIN FALLS