The Climbers | Page 7

for them to earn their living--which you don't seem for a moment to have thought of!
[_She waits with a smile of coming triumph on her face._
RUTH. Nursing!
MRS. HUNTER. [_Disgusted._] No!
CLARA. Manicuring?
MRS. HUNTER. _Darling!_
BLANCHE. Designing dresses and hats?
MRS. HUNTER. No!
JESSICA. Book-keeping?
MRS. HUNTER. No.
RUTH. Then what in the world is it?
MRS. HUNTER. Marriage!
CLARA. Oh, of course!
RUTH. Humph!
[JESSICA and BLANCHE _exchange glances._
MRS. HUNTER. That young Mr. Trotter would be a fine catch for Jess.
JESSICA. Who loathes him!
MRS. HUNTER. Don't be old-fashioned! He's very nice.
RUTH. A little cad, trying to get into society--nice occupation for a man!
JESSICA. Mother, you can't be serious.
CLARA. Why wouldn't he do for _me_?
RUTH. He would! The very thing!
MRS. HUNTER. We'll see, darling; I think Europe is the place for you. I don't believe all the titles are gobbled up yet.
RUTH. Jess, I might get you some women friends of mine, to whom you could go mornings and answer their letters.
MRS. HUNTER. I should not allow my daughter to go in that capacity to the house of any woman who had refused to call on her mother, which is the way most of your friends have treated me.
RUTH. Do you realize, Florence, this is a question of bread and butter, a practical suggestion of life, which has nothing whatever to do with the society columns of the daily papers?
MRS. HUNTER. I do not intend that my daughters shall lose their positions because their father has been--what shall we call it--criminally negligent of them.
RUTH. [_Rising._] How dare you! You are to blame for it all. If you say another word injurious to my brother's memory, I'll leave this house and let you starve for all I'll do for you.
BLANCHE. Aunt Ruth, please, for father's sake--
CLARA. Well, this house is ours, anyway!
BLANCHE. That is what _I've_ been thinking of. The house is yours. It's huge. You don't need it. You must either give it up altogether--
MRS. HUNTER. [_Interrupts._] _What! Leave it? My house! Never!_
BLANCHE. Or--let out floors to one or two friends,--bachelor friends. Mr. Mason, perhaps--
CLARA. [_Interrupts, rising, furious._] Take in boarders!
MRS. HUNTER. [_Who has listened aghast, now rises in outraged dignity; she stands a moment glaring at_ BLANCHE, _then speaks._] Take--[_She chokes._] That is the last straw!
[_And she sweeps from the room Right._
CLARA. Mama! Mama!
[_She goes out after her mother._
[_The other three women watch the two leave the room, then turn and look at each other._
BLANCHE. We'll manage somehow, only I think it would be easier for us to discuss all practical matters by ourselves.
RUTH. And I want you to understand this, girls,--I represent your dear father; half of everything I have is yours, and you must promise me always to come to me for everything.
[STERLING _enters suddenly Left._
[_He is a man of thirty-eight or forty, a singularly attractive personality; he is handsome and distinguished. His hair is grayer than his years may account for and his manner betrays a nervous system overtaxed and barely under control. At the moment that he enters he is evidently laboring under some especial, and only half-concealed, nervous strain. In spite of his irritability at times with his wife, there is an undercurrent of tenderness which reveals his real love for_ BLANCHE.
STERLING. Oh, you're all here! Have I missed old Mason?
RUTH. Yes, but Blanche will tell you what he had to say. I'm going upstairs to try and pacify your mother. We mustn't forget she has a hard time ahead of her.
[She goes out Right with JESSICA.
STERLING. I suppose Mason came about the will and your father's affairs?
BLANCHE. Yes, you ought to have been here.
STERLING. [_Irritably._] But I couldn't--I told you I couldn't!
BLANCHE. Do you realize, dear, that you haven't been able to do anything for me for a long time? Lately, even I hardly ever see you--I stay home night after night alone.
STERLING. That's your own fault, dear; Ned Warden's always ready to take you anywhere you like.
BLANCHE. [_With the ghost of a jest._] But do you think it's quite right for me to take up all Mr. Warden's time?
STERLING. Why not, if he likes it?
BLANCHE. And don't you think people will soon talk?
STERLING. Darling! People always talk, and who cares!
BLANCHE. It's months since you showed me any sign of affection, and now when my heart is hungrier than ever for it,--you know how I loved my father,--I long for sympathy from you, and you haven't once thought to take me, your wife, in your arms and hold me close and comfort me.
STERLING. I'm sorry, old girl, I'm really sorry. [_Embracing her affectionately._] And surely you know I don't love any other woman in the world but you. [_He kisses her._] It's only because I've been terribly worried. I don't want to bother you with business, but I've been in an awful hole for money. I tried to make a big coup in Wall