Mrs. Hunter. [Laughs.] What's the matter with Providence? I think Rhode Island tips the scales pretty even for the east!
Blanche. Please go, mother; please leave me for a little while.
Mrs. Hunter. Oh, very well, good-by! [Leonard enters Right with a Christmas parcel, which he places on the table Right.] Dear me, have you had all these Christmas presents and not opened them?
Blanche. It is only little Richard in this house who is celebrating Christmas to-day.
Mrs. Hunter. It's a terrible affair; I only hope the newspapers won't get hold of it. [To Leonard.] If any women come here asking for me who look like ladies, don't let 'em in! They ain't my friends; they're reporters.
[Leonard bows and goes out.
Clara. I'm awfully sorry, Blanche, I honestly am; but I think you'll have only yourself to blame if you don't strike out now and throw Dick over. Good-by!
[Mrs. Hunter and Clara go out Right.
Blanche. I wish they wouldn't advise me to do what I want to.
Ruth. Ah!