Hosea (outside). It's a downright shame. Look at it; a fine piece of property like this going, going at such a ruinous sacrifice; and I'm only offered nine hundred and fifty dollars for it; literally flowing with milk and honey. Shall I have ten,—ten, do you say? Quick, or you lose it; nine hundred and fifty once, nine hundred and fifty twice, nine hundred and fifty,—going, going, and gone to Wilder Rowell, Esq., for nine hundred and fifty dollars. You've got a bargain. Mattie (raising her head). Do you hear, mother? To Wilder Rowell. Mrs. T. It's a shame to let it go for that price, and to a stranger. Mattie. Mr. Rowell is no stranger, mother. It's now five years since he came to Grainlow with Mr. Gifford. Mrs. T. For all that, he's a stranger,—a proud, haughty man, whom nobody likes, nobody has confidence in. Mattie. Mr. Gifford had confidence enough to give him the guardianship of his daughter when he died two years ago; and Gaylie likes him. As for being proud and haughty, to me he is always pleasant and condescending. Mrs. T. Condescending, indeed! You're just as good as he is. Bless you, child, the Trueworths held their heads as high as the best of folks until our troubles commenced. Your father took to borrowing to experiment with his patent wrinkles, and mortgaged the farm to that mean skinflint, Hosea Jenks. Ah, well! he did it for the best, no doubt. Only six months dead, and now the old farm has gone too. Mattie. Mother 'tis hard, 'tis cruel, to leave you homeless in your old age. Had father been wise— Mrs. T. Hush, child! not a word against him. He was a good, kind father, and a husband to be proud of. In all his troubles he never would touch a cent of the money we had put by to push Rob through college. That was safely locked up; and the lad came through with all the honors. Mattie. What good can his learning do him now? Mrs. T. That remains to be seen. When the call came for men, our boy, bless him! stepped out with the first, and enlisted for the war. Then came the hard blow, hardest of all to bear. My own dear, noble husband breathed out his life in my arms, and joined the true and noble in that better land. Hark! I hear Robert's step. (Mattie rises, and goes up to the window. Robert enters slowly door in flat; comes down, places his hand on the back of his mother's chair.) Rob. Mother, the farm has gone. We are homeless. Mrs. T. (wipes her eyes, and endeavors to suppress emotion). Yes, Rob, the old home is ours no more. Perhaps it is as well we made a change. Now he who, who (rises, and stretches out her arms)—O Rob, Rob! I can't bear it; I can't bear it. (Sobs, and falls upon his neck.) Rob (embracing her). O mother! this should not have been. Had I known the worst, I could have prevented it. I have strong arms and a cool head. I could have managed the farm. I thought father was so comfortably settled; and now my enlistment binds me. Oh, I could have done bravely! Mrs. T. (recovering). And you will do bravely now, where every true man should stand in the hour of his country's peril, in the ranks of brave defenders. Fear not for us: there's a power of strength in these old arms yet, and a stout heart to struggle; ay, and a brave one. Am I not the mother of a man who leaves all to serve his country? Rob. Brave mother, you shall have a son to be proud of. Mrs. T. Right, boy. And my prayers and blessing shall cheer you on to victory. Rob. Yet you are homeless, mother. Our regiment is ready for the field: it only awaits the appointment of a colonel. I may be called away at an hour's notice. If I could only have secured the old home for you, I should have been content.
[Exit R.
[Exit F.
"When pole meets poll, then comes the crack of skull."
[Exit D. in F.
[Exit R.
[Exit door in flat, passing Mattie, who enters.
[Down R.
[Exit door in F.
[Exit door in F.