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?