MISS G.o.dESBY. [_Laughing._] Oh, I know the kind! Mine's for Howard G.o.desby. What's his present?

BLANCHE. A silver golf marker.

MISS G.o.dESBY. But he doesn't play golf!

BLANCHE. Well, he ought to; it'll keep him young.

CLARA. It will be all right, anyway, Julia! _You_ can give it away to some one next Christmas.

MISS SILLERTON. What's in Mr. Trotter's?

BLANCHE. Oh, that present has almost been my death! Men are so hard to find things for! I had put in a gold pencil for his key chain, but to-night while we were eating our oysters, I saw him show a beauty that his mother had given him this morning! So I whispered to Jordan between the soup and fish to change Mr. Ryder's name to Mr. Trotter's stocking, and put Mr. Trotter's name on the one that had a cigarette case in it. I sneaked a message down to d.i.c.k on my dinner card--was it all right?--and he sent back word during the game that Trotter only smoked cigars; so before the ices were pa.s.sed I shuffled Mr. Trotter's and Mr. Mason's names,--I'd given Mason the cigar case,--and just as Jordan signalled to me the transfer had been successfully effected, I heard Trotter casually observe he'd been obliged to give up smoking entirely--_doctor's orders_!

[_They laugh punctiliously, rather bored by_ BLANCHE'S _long account._

MRS. HUNTER. Isn't the tree stunning?

CLARA. [_Getting down from her chair._] It makes the table look like one of Mr. Trotter's "informal little dinners."

MISS G.o.dESBY. They say he has one of those men who arrange shop windows decorate his dinner table for him!

BLANCHE. The only time I ever dined with him I was really ashamed to go home with my dinner favor--it was so gorgeous! And there were such big bunches of violets in the finger bowls there wasn't room for your little finger.

MISS G.o.dESBY. You never saw such a lot of decoration! The game have ribbon garters on their legs, and even the raw oysters wear corsage bouquets! [_To_ MRS. HUNTER.] I hope you don't mind what we're saying, Mrs. Hunter?

MRS. HUNTER. [_Offended._] I must say I do mind very much.--[_A pause._]--because--[_A second pause._]--well, I am going to marry Mr.

Trotter--[_All, not believing her, laugh merrily._] You are all very rude!

MISS G.o.dESBY. Not on the level! Not _Trotter_!

MISS SILLERTON. Not _really_!

BLANCHE. No, no, of course not!

[_She rings bell._

MRS. HUNTER. But I _am_! And I thought here at my daughter's table, among my own friends (I was allowed to name the guests to-night), I could count on good wishes and congratulations.

[_There is a dead silence._

[_The musicians, a band of Neapolitan players, enter and take their places in a recess at Left._

BLANCHE. [_To the musicians._] You may play. [_To_ JORDAN, _who has brought in the Neapolitans._] We are ready, Jordan.

[JORDAN _goes out at back._

[RUTH _goes to_ BLANCHE.

[_The guitars and mandolins begin a popular song._

MISS G.o.dESBY. [_To_ MRS. HUNTER.] Oh, well, Mrs. Hunter, we were only codding! There's lots of good in Trotter, and I'm sure you'll bring it out. Good luck!

[_Shaking her hand._

RUTH. [_To_ BLANCHE, _aside._] You won't allow this!

BLANCHE. Certainly not. [BLANCHE _crosses to her mother and they go to one side together;_ BLANCHE _speaks in a lowered voice._] You've amazed and shocked me! I will not tolerate such a thing; we'll talk it over to-night.

[_She leaves her and returns to her guests_, MRS. HUNTER _standing where she is left, biting her lips and almost crying with rage and mortification._

MISS G.o.dESBY. [_Before the musicians, to_ BLANCHE _as she joins her._]

I'm crazy about these men, Mrs. Sterling; they play so awfully well--especially that one with the lovely legs!

[JORDAN _pulls aside the curtains at back and all the men reenter except_ WARDEN. _They all join hands and dance around the tree, singing with the musicians; they break, and go up to a side table, where everything to drink is displayed._ WARDEN _enters at this moment and motions to_ MASON _and leads him down stage._

WARDEN. There was a railway guide in the hall--that's what he went there for; he's _going to run away to-night_.

MASON. How'll we prevent it?

WARDEN. First, we must break up this party!

MASON. How?

WARDEN. I haven't quite thought yet. Go back to the others; send Jordan to me; don't lose sight of d.i.c.k. Jordan! [_He takes him aside._] I want you to go out of this room for a minute, pretend to go upstairs, then come back and tell Mrs. Sterling, loud enough for the others to hear you, that Master Richard is very ill, and say the maid is frightened.

JORDAN. [_Hesitating._] But--

WARDEN. [_Quickly and firmly._] Do as I tell you. I am responsible for whatever happens.

[JORDAN _goes out at back. The men and women are laughing and talking about the sideboard._

BLANCHE. Come now, everybody! Let's have the presents. d.i.c.k, you know you are to be Santa Claus.

[STERLING _looks nervously at his watch._

STERLING. Just a minute, dear! Ned! [_Takes_ WARDEN _to one side. The women move about the tree, hunting for their own names on the stockings on the table at the foot of the tree._] Ned, I've been suddenly called out of town on business--must catch the eleven-twenty train. I don't want to break up the party, so you empty the tree, and when the time comes for me to go, I'll slip out.

WARDEN. And when your guests go?

STERLING. Oh, then you can explain for me.

[JORDAN _enters at back._

JORDAN. [_To_ BLANCHE.] Beg pardon, madam, but Master Richard is very ill.

BLANCHE. [_Alarmed._] Richard!

JORDAN. Yes, ma'am, and Droves is very frightened, ma'am.