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.