[_He goes out quickly Right._ STERLING _goes up stage and stands beside the door at back as the women dance in, singing "Follow the Man from Cook's." They are led by_ CLARA, _with_ MRS. HUNTER _on the end._ BLANCHE _and_ RUTH _follow alone, not dancing. The others dance around the chairs and_ CLARA _jumps on and off one of them; this stops the rest, who balk at it._ STERLING _goes out at back. The_ SERVANTS _enter Right._ CLARA. I don't care for this dinner party at all. The women are all the time being chased away from the men! I prefer being with Mr. Trotter. Don't you, mama? MISS SILLERTON. He doesn't seem able to give a dinner party any more without you to chaperone, Mrs. Hunter. BLANCHE. Mother, how can you? MRS. HUNTER. Oh, I don't know as it's _chaperoning_! I like Mr. Trotter very much. MISS SILLERTON. But he's such a little cad. I tried to give him a lift, but he was too heavy for me. CLARA. Oh, well, you ought just to pretend it's the money in his pocket makes him so heavy; then you'd find him dead easy. [_Meanwhile the_ SERVANTS _have arranged the table, taken out the extra leaves and made it square, and left the room. They now reenter, bringing in a gorgeously decorated and lighted Christmas tree. There is at once a loud chorus of delighted approval from the women. The_ SERVANTS _place the tree in the centre of the table. The women who are sitting rise and come near to examine the tree._ RUTH. What a beautiful tree, Blanche! BLANCHE. The boy is to have it to-morrow morning--it's really _his_ tree! [TOMPSON _brings in a large basket containing seven small stockings and six small boys' socks--very small stockings and very small socks. They are made of bright and different colors and are stuffed into absurd, bulgy shapes._] There's a name on each one. Come along now! [_Taking out a little sock. The women crowd around the basket and each hangs a sock on the tree,_ MISS GODESBY _and_ CLARA _standing on chairs._ CLARA. [_Reading the name on her sock._] Oh! mine's for Mr. Mason. What's in it, Blanche? BLANCHE. I really can't tell you. I asked the clerk where I bought it what it was for, and he said he didn't know; it was a "Christmas present." MISS GODESBY. [_Laughing._] Oh, I know the kind! Mine's for Howard Godesby. What's his present? BLANCHE. A silver golf marker. MISS GODESBY. 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?