Mrs. W. (with dignity). Marie put these shocking garments where I shall never see or hear of them again.
Marie. Yes, madam.
Gladys. (rummaging in box). Wait a minute Marie, and save your steps. Here are a couple more offerings that will need your kind care. (unwraps shawl). Dearest mother, a fleecy shawl for your shoulders, to shield you from the chill winds. (attempts to place shawl about her mother’s shoulders).
Mrs. W. (screaming). Gladys! Take it away. How horrible! The thing isn’t a shawl, it’s a moth-hole!
Gladys. (continuing). I feared that my dear father was to be forgotten, but he too is remembered. (holds up overcoat). An overcoat, neat but not gaudy, with a pleasing openwork effect in the lining.
Mrs. W. (sinks back in chair). I am overcome. Marie, take these abominable things away. I shall never recover from this shock, and I shall never forget this insult. (dries her eyes). And I shall write your Aunt Louisa at once and tell her in unmistakable language, my opinion of her, in sending to me, to me a box evidently intended for the almshouse!
CURTAIN.