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THE CLIMBERS
A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS
By
CLYDE FITCH
NEW YORK
SAMUEL FRENCH
PUBLISHER
25 WEST 45th STREET
LONDON
SAMUEL FRENCH, LTD.
26 SOUTHAMPTON ST.
STRAND
Reprinted by permission of Little, Brown & Co.
COPYRIGHT, 1905,
BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
This play is fully protected by the copyright law, all requirements of
which have been complied with. In its present printed form it is
dedicated to the reading public only, and no performance of it, either
professional or amateur, may be given without the written permission of
the owner of the acting rights, who may be addressed in care of the
publishers, Little, Brown, and Company.
TO
CHARLES T. MATHEWS
IN GRATEFUL RECOGNITION OF HIS
TRUE FRIENDSHIP AND LOYAL ENTHUSIASM
FROM THE BEGINNING
C.F.
[Transcriber's Note: One character is listed as Dr. Steinart in the List
of Characters, but Dr. Steinhart in the body of the play.]
_THE CLIMBERS_
ACT I. IN LATE WINTER.
_At the Hunters'._
ACT II. THE FOLLOWING CHRISTMAS EVE.
_At the Sterlings'._
ACT III. CHRISTMAS DAY.
_At the Hermitage, by the Bronx River._
ACT IV. THE DAY AFTER CHRISTMAS.
_At the Sterlings'._
NEW YORK: TO-DAY
_THE PEOPLE IN THE PLAY_
RICHARD STERLING. EDWARD WARDEN. FREDERICK MASON. JOHNNY TROTTER.
GODESBY. DR. STEINART. RYDER. SERVANT _at the Hermitage._ JORDAN.
_Butler at the Sterlings'._ LEONARD. _Footman at the Sterlings'._ MASTER
STERLING. SERVANTS.
MRS. STERLING (_née Blanche Hunter_). MISS HUNTER. MRS. HUNTER. JESSICA
HUNTER. CLARA HUNTER. MISS GODESBY. MISS SILLERTON. TOMPSON. _Mrs.
Hunter's Maid._ MARIE. _Clara Hunter's Maid._
Originally produced at the Bijou Theatre, New York, January 21, 1901,
with the following cast:--
Richard Sterling Mr. Frank Worthing
Edward Warden Mr. Robert Edeson
Frederick Mason Mr. John Flood
Johnny Trotter Mr. Ferdinand Gottschalk
Dr. Steinart Mr. George C. Boniface
Godesby Mr. J.B. Sturges
Ryder Mr. Kinard
Servant at the Hermitage Mr. Henry Warwick
Jordan } Servants { Mr. Edward Moreland
Leonard } at the { Mr. Henry Stokes
A Footman } Hunters' { Mr. Frederick Wallace
Richard Sterling, Jr. Master Harry Wright
Mrs. Hunter Mrs. Madge Carr Cook
Mrs. Sterling (_née_ Blanche Hunter) Miss Amelia Bingham
Jessica Hunter Miss Maud Monroe
Clara Hunter Miss Minnie Dupree
Miss Hunter Miss Annie Irish
Miss Godesby Miss Clara Bloodgood
Miss Sillerton Miss Ysobel Haskins
Tompson } Maids at { Miss Lillian Eldredge
Marie } the Hunters' { Miss Florence Lloyd
Produced at the Comedy Theatre, London, September 5, 1903, with the
following cast:--
Richard Sterling Mr. Sydney Valentine
Edward Warden Mr. Reeves-Smith
Frederick Mason Mr. J.L. Mackay
Johnny Trotter Mr. G.M. Graham
Godesby Mr. Horace Pollock
Dr. Steinart Mr. Howard Sturges
Master Sterling Miss Maidie Andrews
Ryder Mr. Henry Howard
Jordan Mr. Elgar B. Payne
Leonard Mr. Littledale Power
Footman Mr. Rivers Bertram
Servant Mr. George Aubrey
Mrs. Sterling Miss Lily Hanbury
Miss Hunter Miss Kate Tyndall
Mrs. Hunter Miss Lottie Venne
Jessica Hunter Miss Alma Mara
Clara Hunter Mrs. Mouillot
Miss Sillerton Miss Florence Sinclair
Tompson Miss L. Crauford
Marie Miss Armstrong
Miss Godesby Miss Fannie Ward
ACT I
_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