Part 19 (1/2)

MISS G.o.dESBY. [_Laughing._] Oh, I know the kind! Mine's for Howard G.o.desby. What's his present?

BLANCHE. A silver golf marker.

MISS G.o.dESBY. 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?

BLANCHE. Oh, that present has almost been my death! Men are so hard to find things for! I had put in a gold pencil for his key chain, but to-night while we were eating our oysters, I saw him show a beauty that his mother had given him this morning! So I whispered to Jordan between the soup and fish to change Mr. Ryder's name to Mr. Trotter's stocking, and put Mr. Trotter's name on the one that had a cigarette case in it. I sneaked a message down to d.i.c.k on my dinner card--was it all right?--and he sent back word during the game that Trotter only smoked cigars; so before the ices were pa.s.sed I shuffled Mr. Trotter's and Mr. Mason's names,--I'd given Mason the cigar case,--and just as Jordan signalled to me the transfer had been successfully effected, I heard Trotter casually observe he'd been obliged to give up smoking entirely--_doctor's orders_!

[_They laugh punctiliously, rather bored by_ BLANCHE'S _long account._

MRS. HUNTER. Isn't the tree stunning?

CLARA. [_Getting down from her chair._] It makes the table look like one of Mr. Trotter's ”informal little dinners.”

MISS G.o.dESBY. They say he has one of those men who arrange shop windows decorate his dinner table for him!

BLANCHE. The only time I ever dined with him I was really ashamed to go home with my dinner favor--it was so gorgeous! And there were such big bunches of violets in the finger bowls there wasn't room for your little finger.

MISS G.o.dESBY. You never saw such a lot of decoration! The game have ribbon garters on their legs, and even the raw oysters wear corsage bouquets! [_To_ MRS. HUNTER.] I hope you don't mind what we're saying, Mrs. Hunter?

MRS. HUNTER. [_Offended._] I must say I do mind very much.--[_A pause._]--because--[_A second pause._]--well, I am going to marry Mr.

Trotter--[_All, not believing her, laugh merrily._] You are all very rude!

MISS G.o.dESBY. Not on the level! Not _Trotter_!

MISS SILLERTON. Not _really_!

BLANCHE. No, no, of course not!

[_She rings bell._

MRS. HUNTER. But I _am_! And I thought here at my daughter's table, among my own friends (I was allowed to name the guests to-night), I could count on good wishes and congratulations.

[_There is a dead silence._

[_The musicians, a band of Neapolitan players, enter and take their places in a recess at Left._

BLANCHE. [_To the musicians._] You may play. [_To_ JORDAN, _who has brought in the Neapolitans._] We are ready, Jordan.

[JORDAN _goes out at back._

[RUTH _goes to_ BLANCHE.

[_The guitars and mandolins begin a popular song._