_The woods, the leaves of the trees rich in their autumn colouring, rise close about this side of the Infirmary. Their branches almost touch the porch on the right. In the rear of the porch they have been cleared away from the building for a narrow space, and through this opening the distant hills can be seen with the tree tops glowing in the sunlight._ _As the curtain rises,_ Eileen _is discovered lying in the bed on the porch, propped up into a half-sitting position by pillows under her back and head. She seems to have grown much thinner. Her face is pale and drawn, with deep hollows under her cheek-bones. Her eyes are dull and lustreless. She gazes straight before her into the wood with the unseeing stare of apathetic indifference. The door from the hall in the room behind her is opened, and_ Miss Howard _enters, followed by_ Bill Carmody, Mrs. Brennan, _and_ Mary. Carmody's _manner is unwontedly sober and subdued. This air of respectable sobriety is further enhanced by a black suit, glaringly new and stiffly pressed, a new black derby hat, and shoes polished like a mirror. His expression is full of a bitter, if suppressed, resentment. His gentility is evidently forced upon him in spite of himself and correspondingly irksome._ Mrs. Brennan _is a tall, stout woman of fifty, lusty and loud-voiced, with a broad, snub-nosed, florid face, a large mouth, the upper lip darkened by a suggestion of moustache, and little round blue eyes, hard and restless with a continual fuming irritation. She is got up regardless in her ridiculous Sunday-best._ Mary _appears tall and skinny-legged in a starched, outgrown frock. The sweetness of her face has disappeared, giving way to a hang-dog sullenness, a stubborn silence, with sulky, furtive glances of rebellion directed at her step-mother._ MISS HOWARD (_pointing to the porch_). She's out there on the porch. MRS. BRENNAN (_with dignity_). Thank you, ma'am. MISS HOWARD (_with a searching glance at the visitors as if to appraise their intentions_). Eileen's been very sick lately, you know, so be careful not to worry her about anything. Do your best to cheer her up. CARMODY (_mournfully_). We'll try to put life in her spirits, God help her. (_With an uncertain look at_ Mrs. Brennan.) Won't we, Maggie? MRS. BRENNAN (_turning sharply on_ Mary, _who has gone over to examine the things on the bureau_). Come away from that, Mary. Curiosity killed a cat. Don't be touchin' her things. Remember what I told you. Or is it admirin' your mug in the mirror you are? (_Turning to_ Miss Howard _as_ Mary _moves away from the bureau, hanging her head--shortly._) Don't you worry, ma'am. We won't trouble Eileen at all.