A MODERN PRODIGAL
The scene shows Uncle Richard's library, a massive and expensive interior suggesting prosperity rather than meditation. It is obviously new, and in the whole room there is only one intimate and human note, a quaint little oil painting of a boy with bright eyes—Uncle Richard at the age of eleven.
Richard walks about, waiting for his uncle, and examines the appointments with more curiosity than reverence. Stopping by the mantle for a moment he notices, with a start of surprise, his own photograph. He turns away with a shrug just as his uncle hurriedly enters.
Uncle Richard
Dick! Richard! At last! How are you? You received my letter?
Richard
I am very well, uncle. Yes, I received your letter. It was forwarded from Florence.
Uncle Richard
Good! Sit down, Richard, sit down.