ETHEL. You know, perfectly well, mother; that it's impossible for anybody to preserve any individuality in contact with you... that as a matter of fact, neither father nor Let.i.tia nor Freddy nor myself have preserved a shred of it. Grandfather said that to you himself, the last time you ever saw him... I know it, for I've heard father say it a hundred times.

DR. MASTERSON. Well!

MRS. MASTERSON. It seems to me there's more than a trace of individuality in this present outburst, Ethel.

ETHEL. Yes, but it's the first time, mother.

LEt.i.tIA. Some one is coming. [Turns to door.] Oh! Henry!

HENRY. [Enters; a handsome, powerfully-built man; smooth shaven, immaculate, reserved in manner.] Well, has the sea-witch arrived?

MRS. MASTERSON. Not yet.

DR. MASTERSON. Freddy's gone to meet her with the limousine.

HENRY. I see. And the steamer?

MRS. MASTERSON. It was to have docked two hours ago.

HENRY. Well, that means that I won't see her till tomorrow evening. I've got to run down to Providence to-night.

LEt.i.tIA. What's the matter?

HENRY. Nothing important... just a business matter that requires my presence. Make my apologies; and goodbye, my dear.

[Kisses LEt.i.tIA.]

LEt.i.tIA. Henry, I wish you'd wait a moment.

HENRY. What for, my dear?

LEt.i.tIA. Mother has something to say...

MRS. MASTERSON. I want to talk to you about this idea of going to the country in the winter-time.

HENRY. Oh! There's no use talking about that, Mrs. Masterson. I see I can't have my way, so there's no more to be said. I'm not the sort of man to sulk.

MRS. MASTERSON. But such an idea, Henry! For a delicate woman like Let.i.tia...

HENRY. I know... I know. I'd have taken care of her... but that doesn't interest her. And, of course, I can't take the children away from her, and there's not much fun in the country alone. So what's the use? I give up... as I give up everything. Good-bye, all.

[Exit.]

LEt.i.tIA. I declare-such a trial! A husband who's lost his interest in life!

MRS. MASTERSON. It's that new cook of yours, Let.i.tia.

LEt.i.tIA. Every cook is worse.

MRS. MASTERSON. What he needs is some liver-pills. Quincy, you should attend to it! [Rises.] Well, I'm going upstairs. You'll stay to dinner, Let.i.tia?

LEt.i.tIA. Yes, I want to lie down for a while.

DR. MASTERSON. And I'll beat myself a game of billiards.

[Exit With LEt.i.tIA and MRS. MASTERSON.]

ETHEL. [Drops her book to floor, springs up and paces the room.] Oh! If only I might change places with Oceana! If I could get away to some South Sea island, and be my own mistress and live my own life. [Takes photograph.] Oceana! I'm wild to see you! I want to see you dancing. Your Sunrise Dance... and to your own music! [Begins to hum the Sunrise Dance.] Oceana! Oceana!

[A step in the hall, she turns.]

FREDDY. [Enters briskly; a college boy, about twenty-one, overgrown, narrow-chested, good-natured and slangy.] Ethel!

ETHEL. [Starts.] Freddy! Where's Oceana?

FREDDY. She won't get here till morning.

ETHEL. Oh, Freddy!

FREDDY. They can't dock the steamer to-night... there's some tangle at the pier.

ETHEL. Did you go and see?

FREDDY. I telephoned about it. I didn't want to wait in this blizzard.

ETHEL. I'm so sorry!

FREDDY. Me, too. But there's no help for it.

ETHEL. So long as she doesn't miss to-morrow night! Did I read you what she said about that, Freddy? [Takes letter from pocket.] "I'll pray for fair weather, so that I may get there to see the beautiful dancing. There is nothing in all the world that I love more... my whole being seems to flow into the dance. I send you the music of my Sunrise Dance, that father composed for me. You can learn it, and I'll do it for you. I don't know, of course; but father used to think that I was wonderful in it.. and he had known all the great dances in Europe. It was the last thing I heard him play, before he went out in the boat, and I saw him perish before my eyes." Don't you think that she writes beautifully, Freddy?

FREDDY. Yes; it's surprising.

ETHEL, Oh, yes. Her father was an extraordinary man, Henry says... a musician and a poet. They had books and everything, apparently. You'd think she's been living in Europe.

FREDDY. I see.

ETHEL. Listen to this: [Reads.] "About my name... I forgot to explain. You see, Anna sounds like England... or New England... and I am not the least like those places. Father used to see me, as a little tot, diving through the breakers, and floating out in the sea, with the snow-white frigate-birds flas.h.i.+ng by overhead; and he said I was the very spirit of the island and the wild, lonely ocean. So he called me Oceana, and that's the name I've always borne."

FREDDY. It just fits my idea of her.

ETHEL. She goes on: "You mustn't be surprised at what I am. You may think it's dreadful... even wicked. But at least don't expect anything like you've ever known before. Fifteen years with only cocoa-palms and naked savages... the Boston varnish rubs off one. But I'm going to try to behave. I expect to feel quite at home... I have pictures of all of you, and a picture of the house... I even have father's keys, to let myself in with!"

FREDDY. Can you play her music, Ethel?

ETHEL. Play it? I could play it in my sleep. [Opens piano.] The Sunrise Dance! [She sits and plays.] Listen!

[She plunges into the ecstatic part of the music. FREDDY leans by the piano, watching her; she plays, more and more enthralled. The door opens softly.]