The Climbers | Page 2

no noise. They enter a second time for more chairs._
JORDAN. [Whispers to LEONARD.] When are they coming for the chairs?
LEONARD. [_Whispers back._] To-night. Say, it was fine, wasn't it!
JORDAN. Grand!
[_They go out with the chairs and immediately re?nter for more. They are followed in this time by a lady's maid,_ TOMPSON; _she is not a young woman. As she crosses the room she stoops and picks up a faded flower which has fallen from some emblem. She goes to the window at Right, and peeps out. She turns around and looks at the others. They all speak in subdued voices._
TOMPSON. Jordan, what do you think--can we raise the shades now?
JORDAN. Yes, of course--after they've left the house it's all over as far as we here are concerned.
[_She raises both shades._
TOMPSON. Phew! what an odor of flowers!
[_She opens one of the windows a little._
[MARIE, _a young, pretty, French woman, enters from the Right._
MARIE. Will I help you?
TOMPSON. Just with this table, thank you, Marie. [_They begin to rearrange the room, putting it in its normal condition. They replace the table and put back the ornaments upon it._] Poor Mr. Hunter, and him so fond of mince pie. I shall never forget how that man ate mince pie.
[_She sighs lugubriously and continues her labor with the room._
LEONARD. I hope as how it's not going to make any difference with us.
JORDAN. [_Pompously._] Of course not; wasn't Mr. Hunter a millionnaire?
TOMPSON. Some millionnaires I've known turned out poor as Job's turkey in their coffins!
MARIE. What you say? You tink we shall 'ave some of madame's or ze young ladies' dresses?
TOMPSON. [_Hopefully._] Perhaps.
MARIE. I 'ave already made my choice. I like ze pale pink of Mees Jessie.
LEONARD. Sh! I heard a carridge.
TOMPSON. Then they're coming back.
[MARIE _quickly goes out Right._
JORDAN. [To LEONARD, _hurriedly, as he quickly goes out Left._] Take them last two chairs!
[LEONARD, _with the chairs, follows_ JORDAN _out Left._ TOMPSON _hastily puts back a last arm-chair to its usual position in the room and goes out Right._ MRS. HUNTER _enters Left, followed by her three daughters_, BLANCHE, JESSICA, and CLARA, and MASTER STERLING, _who is a small, attractive child, five years of age. All are in the deepest conventional mourning,_ MRS. HUNTER _in widow's weeds and_ CLARA _with a heavy, black chiffon veil; the_ BOY _is also dressed in conventional mourning. As soon as they enter, all four women lift their veils._ MRS. HUNTER _is a well-preserved woman, with a pretty, rather foolish, and somewhat querulous face. Her figure is the latest mode._ BLANCHE STERLING, _her oldest daughter, is her antithesis,--a handsome, dignified woman, young, sincere, and showing, in her attitude to the others and in her own point of view, the warmth of a true, evenly-balanced nature._ JESSICA _is a typical second child,--nice, good, self-effacing, sympathetic, unspoiled._ CLARA _is her opposite,--spoiled, petulant, pretty, pert, and selfish._
MRS. HUNTER. [_With a long sigh._] Oh, I am so glad to be back home and the whole thing over without a hitch!
[_She sinks with a great sigh of relief into a big chair._
BLANCHE. [Takes her son to MRS. HUNTER.] Kiss grandmother good-by, and then Leonard will take you home.
MRS. HUNTER. Good-by, dear. Be a good boy. Don't eat too much candy.
[_Kisses him carelessly._
MASTER STERLING. Good-by. [_Runs towards the door Left, shouting happily._] Leonard! Leonard!
MRS. HUNTER. [_Tearfully._] My dears, it was a great success! Everybody was there!
[_The three younger women stand and look about the room, as if it were strange to them--as if it were empty. There is a moment's silence._
BLANCHE. [_Tenderly._] Mother, why don't you take off your bonnet?
MRS. HUNTER. Take it off for me; it will be a great relief.
BLANCHE. Help me, Jess.
MRS. HUNTER. [_Irritably._] Yes, do something, Jessie. You've mortified me terribly to-day! That child hasn't shed a tear. People'll think you didn't love your father. [The two are taking off MRS. HUNTER'S _bonnet._ MRS. HUNTER waits for an answer from JESSICA; _none comes._] I never saw any one so heartless! [_Tearful again._] And her father adored her. She was one of the things we quarrelled most about!
[Over MRS. HUNTER'S head BLANCHE exchanges a sympathetic look with JESSICA _to show she understands._
CLARA. I'm sure _I've_ cried enough. I've cried buckets.
[She goes to MRS. HUNTER as BLANCHE and JESSICA _take away the bonnet and veil and put them on the piano._
MRS. HUNTER. [_Kissing Clara._] Yes, dear, you are your mother's own child. And you lose the most by it, too.
[_Leaning against the side of her mother's chair, with one arm about her mother._
CLARA. Yes, indeed, instead of coming out next month, and having a perfectly lovely winter, I'll have to mope the whole season, and, if I don't look out, be a wallflower without ever having been a bud!
MRS. HUNTER. [Half amused but feeling CLARA'S _remark is perhaps not quite the right thing._] Sh--
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