[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!