[LEONARD, _with the chairs, follows_ JORDAN _out Left._ TOMPSON _hastily puts back a last arm-chair to its usual position in the room and goes out Right._ MRS. HUNTER _enters Left, followed by her three daughters_, BLANCHE, JESSICA, _and_ CLARA, _and_ MASTER STERLING, _who is a small, attractive child, five years of age. All are in the deepest conventional mourning,_ MRS. HUNTER _in widow's weeds and_ CLARA _with a heavy, black chiffon veil; the_ BOY _is also dressed in conventional mourning. As soon as they enter, all four women lift their veils._ MRS. HUNTER _is a well-preserved woman, with a pretty, rather foolish, and somewhat querulous face. Her figure is the latest mode._ BLANCHE STERLING, _her oldest daughter, is her antithesis,--a handsome, dignified woman, young, sincere, and showing, in her attitude to the others and in her own point of view, the warmth of a true, evenly-balanced nature._ JESSICA _is a typical second child,--nice, good, self-effacing, sympathetic, unspoiled._ CLARA _is her opposite,--spoiled, petulant, pretty, pert, and selfish._ MRS. HUNTER. [_With a long sigh._] Oh, I am so glad to be back home and the whole thing over without a hitch! [_She sinks with a great sigh of relief into a big chair._ BLANCHE. [_Takes her son to_ MRS. HUNTER.] Kiss grandmother good-by, and then Leonard will take you home. MRS. HUNTER. Good-by, dear. Be a good boy. Don't eat too much candy. [_Kisses him carelessly._ MASTER STERLING. Good-by. [_Runs towards the door Left, shouting happily._] Leonard! Leonard! MRS. HUNTER. [_Tearfully._] My dears, it was a great success! Everybody was there! [_The three younger women stand and look about the room, as if it were strange to them--as if it were empty. There is a moment's silence._ BLANCHE. [_Tenderly._] Mother, why don't you take off your bonnet? MRS. HUNTER. Take it off for me; it _will_ be a great relief. BLANCHE. Help me, Jess. MRS. HUNTER. [_Irritably._] Yes, _do_ something, Jessie. You've mortified me terribly to-day! That child hasn't shed a tear. People'll think you didn't love your father. [_The two are taking off_ MRS. HUNTER'S _bonnet._ MRS. HUNTER _waits for an answer from_ JESSICA; _none comes._] I never saw any one so heartless! [_Tearful again._] And her father adored her. _She_ was one of the things we quarrelled _most_ about! [_Over_ MRS. HUNTER'S _head_ BLANCHE _exchanges a sympathetic look with_ JESSICA _to show she understands._ CLARA. I'm sure _I've_ cried enough. I've cried buckets. [_She goes to_ MRS. HUNTER _as_ BLANCHE _and_ JESSICA _take away the bonnet and veil and put them on the piano._ MRS. HUNTER. [_Kissing Clara._] Yes, dear, you are your mother's own child. And _you_ lose the most by it, too. [_Leaning against the side of her mother's chair, with one arm about her mother._