run along to Linda, now, mother's boy. And we'll talk about that some other time.
(Tommy notices for the first time that there are persons in the room. He peeps in around the door and espies Mrs. Starkweather. At the same moment, impulsively, he withdraws his hands and runs in to Mrs. Starkweather.)
{Tommy}
(Who is evidently fond of his grandmother.) Grandma!
(They embrace and make much of each other.)
(Margaret enters, appropriately greeting the others--a kiss (maybe) to Connie, and a slightly cold handshake to Hubbard.)
{Margaret}
(To Chalmers.) Now that you're here, Tom, you mustn't run away.
(Greets Mrs. Starkweather.)
{Mrs. Starkweather}
(Turning Tommy's face to the light and looking at it anxiously.) A trifle thin, Margaret.
{Margaret}
On the contrary, mother----
{Mrs. Starkweather}
(To Chalmers.) Don't you think so, Tom?
{Connie}
(Aside to Hubbard.) Mother continually worries about his health.
{Hubbard}
A sturdy youngster, I should say.
{Tommy}
(To Chalmers.) I'm an Indian, aren't I, daddy?
{Chalmers}
(Nodding his head emphatically.) And the stoutest-hearted in the tribe.
(Linda appears in doorway, evidently looking for Tommy, and Chalmers notices her.) There's Linda looking for you, young stout heart.
{Margaret}
Take Tommy, Linda. Run along, mother's boy.
{Tommy}
Come along, grandma. I want to show you something.
(He catches Mrs. Starkweather by the hand. Protesting, but highly pleased, she allows him to lead her to the door, where he extends his other hand to Linda. Thus, pausing in doorway, leading a woman by either hand, he looks back at Margaret.) (Roguishly.) Remember, mama, we're going to scout in a little while.
{Margaret}
(Going to Tommy, and bending down with her arms around him.) No, Tommy. Mama has to go to that horrid dinner to-night. But to-morrow we'll play.
(Tommy is cast down and looks as if he might pout.) Where is my little Indian now?
{Hubbard}
Be an Indian, Tommy.
{Tommy}
(Brightening up.)
All right, mama. To-morrow.----if you can't find time to-day.
(Margaret kisses him.) (Exit Tommy, Mrs. Starkweather, and Linda, Tommy leading them by a hand in each of theirs.)
{Chalmers}
(Nodding to Hubbard, in low voice to Hubbard and starting to make exit to right.) That high-ball.
(Hubbard disengages himself from proximity of Connie, and starts to follow.)
{Connie}
(Reproachfully.) If you run away, I won't stop for tea.
{Margaret}
Do stop, Tom. Father will be here in a few minutes.
{Connie}
A regular family party.
{Chalmers}
All right. We'll be back. We're just going to have a little talk.
(Chalmers and Hubbard make exit to right.) (Margaret puts her arm impulsively around Connie--a sheerly spontaneous act of affection--kisses her, and at same time evinces preparation to leave.)
{Margaret}
I've got to get my things off. Won't you wait here, dear, in case anybody comes? It's nearly time.
(Starts toward exit to rear, but is stopped by Connie.) Madge.
(Margaret immediately pauses and waits expectantly, smiling, while Connie is hesitant.)
I want to speak to you about something, Madge. You don't mind?
(Margaret, still smiling, shakes her head.) Just a warning. Not that anybody could believe for a moment, there is anything wrong, but----
{Margaret}
(Dispelling a shadow of irritation that has crossed her face.)
If it concerns Tom, don't tell me, please. You know he does do ridiculous things at times. But I don't let him worry me any more; so don't worry me about him.
(Connie remains silent, and Margaret grows curious.) Well?
{Connie}
It's not about Tom--
(Pauses.) It's about you.
{Margaret}
Oh.
{Connie}
I don't know how to begin.
{Margaret}
By coming right out with it, the worst of it, all at once, first.
{Connie}
It isn't serious at all, but--well, mother is worrying about it. You know how old-fashioned she is. And when you consider our position--father's and Tom's, I mean--it doesn't seem just right for you to be seeing so much of such an enemy of theirs. He has abused them dreadfully, you know. And there's that dreadful speech he is going to give to-morrow. You haven't seen the afternoon papers. He has made the most terrible charges against everybody--all of us, our friends, everybody.
{Margaret}
You mean Mr. Knox, of course. But he wouldn't harm anybody, Connie, dear.
{Connie}
(Bridling,) Oh, he wouldn't? He as good as publicly called father a thief.
{Margaret}
When did that happen? I never heard of it.
{Connie}
Well, he said that the money magnates had grown so unprincipled, sunk so low, that they would steal a mouse from a blind kitten.
{Margaret}
I don't see what father has to do with that.
{Connie}
He meant him just the same.
{Margaret}
You silly goose. He couldn't have meant father. Father? Why, father wouldn't look at anything less than fifty or a hundred millions.
{Connie}
And you speak to him and make much of him when you meet him places. You talked with him for half an hour at that Dugdale reception. You have him here in your own house--Tom's house--when he's such a bitter enemy of Tom's. (During the foregoing speech, Anthony Starkweather makes entrance from rear. His face is grave, and he is in a brown study, as if pondering weighty problems. At sight of the two women he pauses and surveys them. They are unaware of his presence.)
{Margaret}
You are wrong, Connie. He is nobody's enemy. He is the truest,
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