[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.