ACT II
Christmas Eve; fourteen months later; the dining room of the Hunters' house, which is now lived in jointly by the Sterlings and Mrs. Hunter and her daughters. It is a dark wainscoted room, with curtains of crimson brocade. It is decorated with laurel roping, mistletoe, and holly, for Christmas. It is the end of a successful dinner party, fourteen happy and more or less congenial persons being seated at a table, as follows: Warden, Ruth, Mason, Clara, Trotter, Mrs. Hunter, Blanche, Sterling, Miss Sillerton, Mr. Godesby, Jessica, Doctor Steinhart, and Miss Godesby. The room is dark on all sides, only a subdued light being shed on the table by two large, full candelabra with red shaded candles. As the curtain rises the bare backs of the three women nearest the footlights gleam out white. Candied fruit and other sweetmeats are being passed by four men servants, including Jordan and Leonard.
Ruth. My dear Blanche, what delicious candy!
Miss Sillerton. Isn't it!
Miss Godesby. Half of the candy offered one nowadays seems made of papier-mâché.
Mrs. Hunter. [To Miss Godesby.] Julia, do tell me how Mr. Tomlins takes his wife's divorce?
Miss Godesby. He takes it with a grain of salt!
Mrs. Hunter. But isn't he going to bring a counter suit?
Sterling. No.
Ruth. I hope not. I am an old-fashioned woman and don't believe in divorce!
Miss Godesby. Really! But then you're not married!
Miss Sillerton. What is the reason for so much divorce nowadays?
Ruth. Marriage is the principal one.
Blanche. I don't believe in divorce, either.
Miss Sillerton. My dear, no woman married to as handsome a man as Mr. Sterling would.
Trotter. You people are all out of date! More people get divorced nowadays than get married.
Blanche. Too many people do—that's the trouble. I meant what I said when I was married—"for better, for worse, till death us do part."—What is the opera Monday?
Trotter. Something of Wagner's. He's a Dodo bird! Bores me to death! Not catchy enough music for me.
Mrs. Hunter. You'd adore him if you went to Bayreuth. Which was that opera, Clara, we heard at Bayreuth last summer? Was it Faust or Lohengrin! They play those two so much here I'm always getting them mixed!
Miss Sillerton. Wagner didn't write Faust!
Mrs. Hunter. Didn't he? I thought he had; he's written so many operas the last few seasons!
Clara. I like Tannhäuser, because as soon as you hear the "twinkle, twinkle, little stars" song, you can cheer up and think of your wraps and fur boots.
Trotter. My favorite operas are San Toy and the Roger Brothers, though I saw Florodora thirty-six times!
Blanche. Mother would have gone with you every one of those thirty-six Florodora times. She's not really fond of music.
Mrs. Hunter. Not fond of music! Didn't I have an opera box for four years?
Trotter. Why doesn't Conried make some arrangement with Weber and Fields and introduce their chorus into Faust and Carmen?
Dr. Steinhart. Great idea! [To Miss Godesby.] Did you get a lot of jolly presents?
Miss Godesby. Not half bad, especially two fine French bulls!
[All are laughing and talking together.
Blanche. What did you get, Mr. Warden?
Warden. Three copies of "David Harum," two umbrellas, and a cigar case too short for my cigars.
Miss Godesby. Give it to me for cigarettes.
Warden. It's too long for cigarettes. Then I had something that's either a mouchoir or a handkerchief case, or for neckties, or shaving papers, or something or other.
Trotter. Yes, I know, I got one of those, too.
Dr. Steinhart. So did I!
Blanche. I must start the women; we are coming back here to arrange a surprise for you men.
[She nods her head in signal to Sterling, and rises. All rise.
Sterling. One moment please. One toast on Christmas night! Ned, give us a toast.
All the Women. [But not in unison.] Oh, yes! A toast! [Ad lib.]
Warden. [Holding up his glass.]
Here's to those whom we love!
And to those who love us!
And to those who love those whom we love
And to those who love those who love us!
All the Men. [Not in unison.] Good! Bravo! Bully toast! [Ad lib.]
[Every one drinks.
Blanche. One more toast, Dick. [To the others.] Christmas Day is our boy's birthday.
Ruth. Surely! a toast to Richard!
Sterling. Long life to Master Sterling, the best boy in the world, and to all his good friends at this table.
The Men. Hear! Hear!
[All the women speak their next speeches at the same time.
|
Blanche. [Laughing.] Of course! I've dropped my handkerchief.
[Ned dives under the table for it.
Miss Sillerton. O dear, my fan!
Miss Godesby. What a bore! I've dropped a glove!
[Steinhart goes under the table for it.
Clara. Both my gloves gone—I'm so sorry!
[Godesby goes under the table for them.
Mrs. Hunter. Dick, please, I've dropped my smelling bottle.
[Trotter and Sterling go under the table for it.
Ruth. My gloves, please, I'm so sorry!
[Mason goes under the table for them.
[The speeches of the women are simultaneous, followed by the movements of the men also, all at the same time. | [All together |
Blanche. Please don't bother; the servants—
Leonard, Jordan and, two extra men start to hunt under the table, too.
Miss Godesby. Women ought to have everything they own fastened to them with rubberneck elastics.
[The men, somewhat flustered, all rise with the various articles, and offer them to their respective owners.
[All the women thank the men profusely, and apologize at the same time. Sterling takes Mrs. Hunter out at back, followed by all the other couples, all talking. Ruth and Mason lag behind.
Ruth. [To Blanche, who with Warden waits for Ruth and Mason to pass.] I want just a minute with Mr. Mason, Blanche. [Blanche and Warden pass out before her. Ruth is alone with Mason. She speaks as if she were carrying on a conversation that had been interrupted. She speaks in a lowered voice, indicating the private nature of what she has to say.] I sent him imperative word yesterday I must have the bonds. I told him I wanted one to give to his wife for Christmas. He pretends to-day he didn't receive this letter, but he must have.
Mason. This makes the third time there has been some excuse for not giving you the bonds?
Ruth. Yes, and this letter he says he didn't get was sent to his office by hand.
Mason. I'll speak to him before I leave.
[They go out at back.
[As they pass out, Jordan stands by the doorway holding the curtains back. The other three men stand stiffly at the Right. As Mason and Ruth go out, the Servants relax and exchange glances, each giving a little laugh out loud, except Jordan. During the following dialogue they empty the table preparatory to arranging the room for the Christmas tree.
Jordan. Sh! A very dull dinner, not an interesting word spoke.
First Footman. The widder seemed chipper like!
Leonard. And did you get on to the old lady's rig-out; mourning don't hang very heavy on her shoulders.
[One chair is moved back.
Jordan. [To First Footman.] Get the coffee. [He goes out Right. To Leonard.] Get the smoking lay-out!
[Leonard goes out Right and brings back a silver tray laden with cigarettes, cigar boxes, and a burning alcohol lamp.
Leonard. If you ask me, I think she's going to put a bit more on the matrimonial mare if she gets the chance.
Jordan. It's none of your business. You're Mrs. Sterling's servant now.
Leonard. Good thing, too; it was a happy day for us when they moved in.
First Footman. [Reënters with the coffee.] Say, did you see how that young feller over there [Motioning to the lower right-hand corner of the table.] shovelled the food in?
Leonard. And the way he poured down the liquid—regular hog! My arm's tired a-filling of his glass.
[And he drinks a glass of champagne which has been left untouched by a guest.
Jordan. He ain't nobody; he hasn't any money; he was just asked to fill up. He's one of these yere singing chaps what's asked to pass the time after dinner with a song or two gratis. This dinner'll last him for food for a week!
Their manners suddenly change as the men reënter and take seats about the two ends of the table. Sterling, Mason, and Doctor down Left form one group. The other men are in a group between the window and the other end. On entering Sterling speaks.
Sterling. Jordan, for heaven's sake, give us something to see by! You can't tell which end of your cigar to light in this confounded woman's candle-light. If I had my way, I'd have candelabras made of Welsbachs!
Trotter. Bright idea, Sterling.
[Sterling, laughing, joins his group, who laugh gently with him. Jordan turns on the electric light. The servants pass the coffee, liqueurs, and the cigars and cigarettes. Meanwhile the following dialogue takes place, the men beginning to talk at once on their entrance.
Sterling. Mr. Mason, I'd like to ask your honest opinion on something if you'll give it me.
Mason. Certainly.
Sterling. This Hudson Electric Company.
Dr. Steinhart. Oh! Dropped fearfully to-day.
Sterling. But that can happen easily with the best thing. To-morrow—
Mason. [Interrupting.] To-morrow it will drop to its very bottom!
Sterling. I don't believe it.
Dr. Steinhart. Surely, Mr. Mason, the men who floated that are too clever to ruin themselves?
Mason. They're out of it.
Sterling. Out of it!
Mason. They got out last week quietly.
Sterling. But—
Mason. Mark my words, the day after to-morrow there'll be several foolish people ruined, and not one of the promoters of that company will lose a penny!
Sterling. I don't believe it!
[The crowd at the other end of the table, who have been listening to a tale from Trotter, laugh heartily.
Trotter. [Delighted with his success.] I'm no Dodo bird!
[Warden leaves this group casually and joins the other.
Mason. [To Sterling.] Don't tell me you're in it?
Sterling. [Ugly.] Yes, I am in it!
Mason. Not much?
Sterling. Yes, much!
Warden. Much what?
Sterling. Oh, nothing; we were just discussing stocks.
Warden. And up there they're discussing Jeffreys and Fitzsimmons.
Mason. Listen, Dick, after a lifelong experience in Wall Street, I defy any broker to produce one customer who can show a profit after three consecutive years of speculation.
Sterling. Oh, you're too conservative; nothing venture, nothing have. Excuse me, I think Jeffreys and Fitzsimmons more amusing topics. Come along.
[Sterling and Dr. Steinhart join the other group Right.
Mason. [To Warden.] You're Sterling's broker.
Warden. No, not for over a year.
Mason. Then you can't tell me how deep he is in this Hudson Electric swindle?
Warden. Is he in it at all?
Mason. Yes, he says, deep.
Warden. I suspected it yesterday.
Mason. But what with—his wife's money?
Warden. That went fourteen months ago. I put him on his feet then, gave him some tips that enabled him to take this house with her mother, so that with his regular law business he ought to have done very well, but his living could not leave one cent over to speculate with.
Mason. [To himself.] Good God!
Warden. I know what you're afraid of.
Mason. No!
Warden. Yes. The reason I'm no longer his broker is he was ashamed to let me know about his dealings.
Mason. But you don't mean you think he'd actually steal!
Warden. His aunt's money? Why not? He did his wife's!
Mason. Does he handle any one else's affairs?
Warden. I know he takes care of that Godesby woman's property.
Mason. And she wouldn't hold her tongue if a crash came!
Warden. Not for a minute! Is Miss Hunter suspicious?
Mason. Yes. Does Sterling realize that to-morrow he will most probably be a ruined cheat?
Warden. Very likely.
Mason. If he made up his mind to-night it was all up with him, he might do—what?
Warden. Run away with whatever money he has left, or kill himself. I don't know if he's enough of a coward for that or not. There's one hold on him—he loves his wife.
Mason. Which will make him all the more ashamed of discovery. Do you believe she suspects?
Warden. Not a bit. She loves him too dearly.
Mason. Can we do anything?
Warden. Nothing but watch him closely till the people go. Then force him to make a clean breast of it, so we can all know where we stand; how we can best protect his aunt from ruin and his wife and boy from public disgrace.
Mason. He is watching us.
Warden. He knows I know him; we must be careful. He's coming toward us. [He then speaks in a different tone, but no louder.] You're certain of the trustworthiness of your information?
Mason. Absolutely. Every man left in that concern will be ruined before the 'Change closes after to-morrow. [Sterling has joined them in time to hear the end of Mason's speech. Mason continues.] I am telling Warden what I told you about the Hudson Electric Company.
Sterling. Can't you talk of something pleasanter?
[Blanche reënters at back. On her entrance all the men rise. The servants finish preparing the room for the tree.
Blanche. I'm very sorry—I really can't let you men stay here any longer.
All the Men. Why not? How's that? [Ad lib.]
Blanche. You know we want to get this room ready for Santa Claus! Dick! [She goes to her husband. All the men go out at back in a group led by Warden and Mason. They are all talking and laughing. Blanche is left alone with her husband.] What is this Aunt Ruth has been telling me about not being able to get some bonds from you?
Sterling. Oh, nothing. I forgot to send them up to her, that's all.
Blanche. But she says she sent three times.
Sterling. One time too late to get into the vault; and the other, her letter was mislaid—I mean not given to me.
Blanche. You haven't broken your word to me?
Sterling. What if I had?
Blanche. I would let the law take its course.
Sterling. You must love me very little.
Blanche. I live with you. First you robbed me of my respect for you; then you dried up my heart with neglect.
Sterling. And our boy?
Blanche. Your blood runs in his veins; your shame and disgrace would be a fearful warning to him. It might kill me; but never mind, if it saved him.
Sterling. Oh, well, I haven't broken my word! So you needn't worry. I've been honest enough.
Blanche. [With a long sigh of relief.] Oh! I hope so!
Mrs. Hunter. [Appearing in doorway at back.] The men are in the drawing-room—shall we come here?
Blanche. Yes, we'll bring the others, mother. Come, Dick.
[She goes out with Mrs. Hunter at back.
Sterling. [Goes to door Right, opens it, and calls.] Leonard!
[Leonard enters Right
Leonard. Yes, sir?
Sterling. Go up to my library at the top of the house, get a railroad guide you will find there, and bring it down and put it on the table in the hall just outside the drawing-room door.
Leonard. Yes, sir.
Sterling. Then go to my room and pack my bag and dressing case. Do you understand?
Leonard. Yes, sir.
[The women are heard singing "Follow the Man from Cook's," and gradually coming nearer.
Sterling. Be quick, and say nothing to any one.
Leonard. Yes, sir.
[He goes out quickly Right. Sterling goes up stage and stands beside the door at back as the women dance in, singing "Follow the Man from Cook's." They are led by Clara, with Mrs. Hunter on the end. Blanche and Ruth follow alone, not dancing. The others dance around the chairs and Clara jumps on and off one of them; this stops the rest, who balk at it. Sterling goes out at back. The Servants enter Right.
Clara. I don't care for this dinner party at all. The women are all the time being chased away from the men! I prefer being with Mr. Trotter. Don't you, mama?
Miss Sillerton. He doesn't seem able to give a dinner party any more without you to chaperone, Mrs. Hunter.
Blanche. Mother, how can you?
Mrs. Hunter. Oh, I don't know as it's chaperoning! I like Mr. Trotter very much.
Miss Sillerton. But he's such a little cad. I tried to give him a lift, but he was too heavy for me.
Clara. Oh, well, you ought just to pretend it's the money in his pocket makes him so heavy; then you'd find him dead easy.
[Meanwhile the Servants have arranged the table, taken out the extra leaves and made it square, and left the room. They now reënter, bringing in a gorgeously decorated and lighted Christmas tree. There is at once a loud chorus of delighted approval from the women. The Servants place the tree in the centre of the table. The women who are sitting rise and come near to examine the tree.
Ruth. What a beautiful tree, Blanche!
Blanche. The boy is to have it to-morrow morning—it's really his tree! [Tompson brings in a large basket containing seven small stockings and six small boys' socks—very small stockings and very small socks. They are made of bright and different colors and are stuffed into absurd, bulgy shapes.] There's a name on each one. Come along now!
[Taking out a little sock. The women crowd around the basket and each hangs a sock on the tree, Miss Godesby and Clara standing on chairs.
Clara. [Reading the name on her sock.] Oh! mine's for Mr. Mason. What's in it, Blanche?
Blanche. I really can't tell you. I asked the clerk where I bought it what it was for, and he said he didn't know; it was a "Christmas present."
Miss Godesby. [Laughing.] Oh, I know the kind! Mine's for Howard Godesby. What's his present?
Blanche. A silver golf marker.
Miss Godesby. But he doesn't play golf!
Blanche. Well, he ought to; it'll keep him young.
Clara. It will be all right, anyway, Julia! You can give it away to some one next Christmas.
Miss Sillerton. What's in Mr. Trotter's?
Blanche. Oh, that present has almost been my death! Men are so hard to find things for! I had put in a gold pencil for his key chain, but to-night while we were eating our oysters, I saw him show a beauty that his mother had given him this morning! So I whispered to Jordan between the soup and fish to change Mr. Ryder's name to Mr. Trotter's stocking, and put Mr. Trotter's name on the one that had a cigarette case in it. I sneaked a message down to Dick on my dinner card—was it all right?—and he sent back word during the game that Trotter only smoked cigars; so before the ices were passed I shuffled Mr. Trotter's and Mr. Mason's names,—I'd given Mason the cigar case,—and just as Jordan signalled to me the transfer had been successfully effected, I heard Trotter casually observe he'd been obliged to give up smoking entirely—doctor's orders!
[They laugh punctiliously, rather bored by Blanche's long account.
Mrs. Hunter. Isn't the tree stunning?
Clara. [Getting down from her chair.] It makes the table look like one of Mr. Trotter's "informal little dinners."
Miss Godesby. They say he has one of those men who arrange shop windows decorate his dinner table for him!
Blanche. The only time I ever dined with him I was really ashamed to go home with my dinner favor—it was so gorgeous! And there were such big bunches of violets in the finger bowls there wasn't room for your little finger.
Miss Godesby. You never saw such a lot of decoration! The game have ribbon garters on their legs, and even the raw oysters wear corsage bouquets! [To Mrs. Hunter.] I hope you don't mind what we're saying, Mrs. Hunter?
Mrs. Hunter. [Offended.] I must say I do mind very much.—[A pause.]—because—[A second pause.]—well, I am going to marry Mr. Trotter—[All, not believing her, laugh merrily.] You are all very rude!
Miss Godesby. Not on the level! Not Trotter!
Miss Sillerton. Not really!
Blanche. No, no, of course not!
[She rings bell.
Mrs. Hunter. But I am! And I thought here at my daughter's table, among my own friends (I was allowed to name the guests to-night), I could count on good wishes and congratulations.
[There is a dead silence.
[The musicians, a band of Neapolitan players, enter and take their places in a recess at Left.
Blanche. [To the musicians.] You may play. [To Jordan, who has brought in the Neapolitans.] We are ready, Jordan.
[Jordan goes out at back.
[Ruth goes to Blanche.
[The guitars and mandolins begin a popular song.
Miss Godesby. [To Mrs. Hunter.] Oh, well, Mrs. Hunter, we were only codding! There's lots of good in Trotter, and I'm sure you'll bring it out. Good luck!
[Shaking her hand.
Ruth. [To Blanche, aside.] You won't allow this!
Blanche. Certainly not. [Blanche crosses to her mother and they go to one side together; Blanche speaks in a lowered voice.] You've amazed and shocked me! I will not tolerate such a thing; we'll talk it over to-night.
[She leaves her and returns to her guests, Mrs. Hunter standing where she is left, biting her lips and almost crying with rage and mortification.
Miss Godesby. [Before the musicians, to Blanche as she joins her.] I'm crazy about these men, Mrs. Sterling; they play so awfully well—especially that one with the lovely legs!
[Jordan pulls aside the curtains at back and all the men reënter except Warden. They all join hands and dance around the tree, singing with the musicians; they break, and go up to a side table, where everything to drink is displayed. Warden enters at this moment and motions to Mason and leads him down stage.
Warden. There was a railway guide in the hall—that's what he went there for; he's going to run away to-night.
Mason. How'll we prevent it?
Warden. First, we must break up this party!
Mason. How?
Warden. I haven't quite thought yet. Go back to the others; send Jordan to me; don't lose sight of Dick. Jordan! [He takes him aside.] I want you to go out of this room for a minute, pretend to go upstairs, then come back and tell Mrs. Sterling, loud enough for the others to hear you, that Master Richard is very ill, and say the maid is frightened.
Jordan. [Hesitating.] But—
Warden. [Quickly and firmly.] Do as I tell you. I am responsible for whatever happens.
[Jordan goes out at back. The men and women are laughing and talking about the sideboard.
Blanche. Come now, everybody! Let's have the presents. Dick, you know you are to be Santa Claus.
[Sterling looks nervously at his watch.
Sterling. Just a minute, dear! Ned! [Takes Warden to one side. The women move about the tree, hunting for their own names on the stockings on the table at the foot of the tree.] Ned, I've been suddenly called out of town on business—must catch the eleven-twenty train. I don't want to break up the party, so you empty the tree, and when the time comes for me to go, I'll slip out.
Warden. And when your guests go?
Sterling. Oh, then you can explain for me.
[Jordan enters at back.
Jordan. [To Blanche.] Beg pardon, madam, but Master Richard is very ill.
Blanche. [Alarmed.] Richard!
Jordan. Yes, ma'am, and Droves is very frightened, ma'am.
Ruth. Richard ill?
[All give exclamations of surprise and regret and sympathy.
Blanche. My little boy ill? Excuse me, I must go to him.
[She hurries out at back. Ruth speaks to the musicians, who stop playing.
Sterling. [Moved.] My boy ill—why, I can't—I can't—
Warden. "Can't" what?
Sterling. How can I go away?
Warden. Surely you won't let business take you away from your boy who may be dying.
Sterling. No! I won't go! I'll face it out! I can't leave my boy like this—
Ruth. [Coming to Sterling.] I'm going to take these women away; tell Blanche not to give them a thought. Their evening up to now has been charming.
[During Ruth's speech, Warden has spoken aside with Mason.
Warden. [Aside to Mason.] Don't let Miss Hunter go.
Ruth. [To the other guests.] Come to the drawing-room.
Mrs. Hunter. I was crazy to see what was in my stocking.
[All pass out talking, expressing conventional sympathy on account of Richard, but evidently resenting the breaking up of the party. Sterling and Warden are left alone in the room. Sterling moves to go up to back; Warden interrupts him.
Warden. [To Sterling.] Where are you going?
Sterling. To my boy and my wife.
Warden. Wait a minute; I want to speak to you.
Sterling. Speak to me later; I can't wait now.
Blanche. [Off stage, at back, excitedly.] Jordan! [She enters, excited, half hysterical.] Jordan! Where is Jordan? It was a lie! What did he mean? Richard is sleeping sweetly. The maid knows nothing of being alarmed! Where is Jordan?
[She starts to go toward the door Right.
Warden. [Stops her.] Mrs. Sterling, he had nothing to do with it! I told Jordan to say what he said.
[Blanche turns and looks at Warden in astonishment.
Sterling. [Stunned and at once suspicious.] What?
Blanche. But—
Warden. Forgive me for so cruelly alarming you; it was the only way I could think of for getting rid at once of your guests!
Sterling. [Angry.] You'll interfere once too often in the affairs of this house.
Blanche. [Indignant.] But what excuse can you make, Mr. Warden?
Warden. Will you be so good as to ask Miss Hunter and Mr. Mason to come here? They will explain what I have done, partly, and your husband will tell you the rest when you come back.
[Sterling sneers aloud.
Blanche. I don't understand, I don't understand.
[She goes out at back.
Sterling. Well, I do understand, at least enough.
Warden. Good! That spares me a very disagreeable speech.
Sterling. No, it doesn't! Come out with it! What is it you want? What is it you've found out?
Warden. From betraying a trust, you've come, in less than two years, to an outright embezzlement.
Sterling. Speak out—give us facts!
Warden. You've stolen your aunt's fortune.
Sterling. Prove that!
Warden. It's her money that's lost in the Hudson Electric Company!
Sterling. Prove it!
Warden. Easy enough, to-morrow.
Sterling. You've got to excuse your action to-night or be kicked out of my house!
Warden. [Strong.] Isn't what I say the truth?
Sterling. [Equally strong.] No! And now get out!
Warden. [Looks at his watch.] I'll not leave this house till it's too late for you to take that eleven-twenty.
Sterling. [More ugly.] Yes, you will and mighty—
Warden. No, I'll not!
[He is interrupted by the entrance of Blanche, Ruth, and Mason.
Warden. [To Blanche.] I hope you forgive me now—
Blanche. [Pathetically.] You did right; I thank you.
Sterling. [Heartbroken.] Blanche—without hearing a word from me!
Blanche. No, I've come now to hear what you have to say.
[A deep-toned clock strikes eleven. Sterling, at the second stroke, takes out his watch with a hurried movement.
Warden. [Quickly.] Eleven o'clock.
Sterling. I wish Warden to leave the room.
Blanche. [Firmly.] And I wish him to stay.
[A short pause.
Sterling. Well, of what am I accused?
Warden. Nobody wants to accuse you. We want you to make a clean breast of it.
Sterling. Don't you talk to me; let my wife do the talking if you want me to answer.
Blanche. Sit down, Aunt Ruth. [Ruth sits by the table, Warden stands at back. Sterling stands at Right and Blanche and Mason sit near the centre.] Aunt Ruth asks you to give her a true account of her trust in you. Mr. Mason is here as her friend and my father's.
Sterling. I haven't said I betrayed her trust. I told her she should have the bonds she wants to-morrow.
Blanche. But will she? That's what I want to know. I ask you if you haven't her bonds, to tell us here now,—tell us, who have been and must be still the best friends, perhaps the only friends, you can have. Tell us where we all stand—are we the only ones to suffer or are there others who will perhaps be less generous in their treatment of you? Tell us now while there is time perhaps to save us from public scandal, from the disgrace which would stamp your wife as the wife of a thief, and send your boy out into the world the son of a convict cheat. [She breaks down, but in a moment controls herself. There is no answer. Sterling sinks into a chair, his arms on the table, his head on his arms. A moment's silence.] You love me—I know that. I appeal to your love; let your love of me persuade you to do what I ask. I ask it for your sake and for mine! Tell us here the truth now—it will spare me much to-morrow, perhaps—me whom you love—for love of me—
Sterling. [In an agony.] I'm afraid I'll lose you—
Blanche. No, I'll promise to stand by you if you'll only tell us all the truth.
Sterling. [In a low, shamed voice.] I'll tell you, but not now—not before all these others.
[Blanche looks up questioningly to Mason. Mason shakes his head.
Blanche. It must be now, Dick.
Sterling. No! no! I can't look you in the face and tell it! Let me tell it to you alone, later, in the dark.
[Blanche looks up questioningly to Mason. He shakes his head.
Blanche. It must be now.
Sterling. No, no, I'm too ashamed, I can't face you; in the dark I'll make a clean breast of it—let me tell you in the dark.
[Warden moves and puts his hand on the electric-light button beside the doorway at back.
Warden. In the DARK, then, tell it!
[He presses the button and all the lights go out. The stage is in complete darkness; only the voices are heard from the different places in which the actors are last seen.
Blanche. [Quickly.] Remember, to help you to help ourselves, we must know everything. Go on.
Sterling. It began fourteen months ago, after Ned Warden put me on my feet; I got a little ahead—why not get way ahead? There were plenty of men around me making their fortunes! I wanted to equal them—climb as high as they; it seemed easy enough for them, and luck had begun to come my way. We're all climbers of some sort in this world. I was a climber after wealth and everything it brings—
[He stops a moment.
Blanche. [Her voice comes throbbing with pathetic emotion through the darkness.] And I after happiness and all it brings.
Sterling. [Deeply moved, his voice trembles for a moment, but only for a moment.] Don't, Blanche, or I can't finish. Well, I borrowed on some of Aunt Ruth's bonds and speculated—I made a hundred thousand in a week! I put back the bonds. But it had been so easy! I could see those bonds grinning at me through the iron side of the vault box. They seemed to smile and beckon, to beg me to take them out into the air again! They grew to be like living things to me, servants of mine to get me gold—and finally I determined to make one bigger coup than ever! I took Aunt Ruth's bonds out and all the money available in my trust, and put it all into this new company! It seemed so safe. I stood to be a prince among the richest! And, for a day or so, I've known nothing short of a miracle could save me from being wanted by the police! To-night I gave up even the miracle. That's all. It's no use saying I'm sorry.
[A moment's pause.
Mason. Have others suffered besides Miss Hunter?
Sterling. There is some money of Aunt Ruth's left—stock I couldn't transfer. But I used the money of others—Miss Godesby and Ryder's.
Mason. Miss Ruth, a large part of your fortune is gone, used unlawfully by this man. Will you resort to the law?
Ruth. [Very quietly.] No!
Blanche. [In a voice broken with emotion and gratitude.] Aunt Ruth!
Mason. We can't hope Miss Godesby and Ryder will be as lenient! You must go to them in the morning—tell them everything, put yourself at their mercy, ask for time and their silence.
Sterling. Never! I couldn't do it.
Mason. It is the only honorable way out of your dishonorable action—the least you can do!
Sterling. Confess to their faces, and probably to no good? Eat the dust at their feet, and most likely be clapped into prison for it? No, thank you!
Blanche. Suppose I went to them?
Sterling. You?
Ruth. No! Why should you!
Sterling. Yes! Why not? They might keep silent for her!
Blanche. I would do it for my boy's sake. Yes, I'll go.
Sterling. Yes! You go, Blanche.
Ruth. No, you shan't go—you shan't humiliate yourself in his place!
Mason. Certainly not; and if your husband is willing, we are not willing! He must go.
Blanche. But if he won't?
Mason. He must!
Ruth. You must demand his going, Blanche, and I demand it, too, as something due to me.
Blanche. Very well. I demand it. Will you go?
[A moment's silence.
Warden. Why don't you speak? [He presses the electric button and all the lights come on. Sterling is at the doorway at back, about to steal out. There is an exclamation aloud from all of surprise and disgust. The clock strikes the quarter; Warden catches hold of Sterling's arm.] What's your hurry, Dick? There goes the quarter hour; you could never catch the eleven-twenty.
Sterling. Damn you!
[Facing Warden squarely, as
THE CURTAIN FALLS QUICKLY