Mother continually worries about his health.
Hubbard
A sturdy youngster, I should say.
Tommy
(To Chalmers.) I'm an Indian, aren't I, daddy?
Chalmers
(Nodding his head emphatically.) And the stoutest-hearted in the tribe.
(Linda appears in doorway, evidently looking for Tommy, and Chalmers notices her.) There's Linda looking for you, young stout heart.
Margaret
Take Tommy, Linda. Run along, mother's boy.
Tommy
Come along, grandma. I want to show you something.
(He catches Mrs. Starkweather by the hand. Protesting, but highly pleased, she allows him to lead her to the door, where he extends his other hand to Linda. Thus, pausing in doorway, leading a woman by either hand, he looks back at Margaret.) (Roguishly.) Remember, mama, we're going to scout in a little while.
Margaret
(Going to Tommy, and bending down with her arms around him.) No, Tommy. Mama has to go to that horrid dinner to-night. But to-morrow we'll play.
(Tommy is cast down and looks as if he might pout.) Where is my little Indian now?
Hubbard
Be an Indian, Tommy.
Tommy
(Brightening up.)
All right, mama. To-morrow. – if you can't find time to-day.
(Margaret kisses him.) (Exit Tommy, Mrs. Starkweather, and Linda, Tommy leading them by a hand in each of theirs.)
Chalmers
(Nodding to Hubbard, in low voice to Hubbard and starting to make exit to right.) That high-ball.
(Hubbard disengages himself from proximity of Connie, and starts to follow.)
Connie
(Reproachfully.) If you run away, I won't stop for tea.
Margaret
Do stop, Tom. Father will be here in a few minutes.
Connie
A regular family party.
Chalmers
All right. We'll be back. We're just going to have a little talk.
(Chalmers and Hubbard make exit to right.) (Margaret puts her arm impulsively around Connie – a sheerly spontaneous act of affection – kisses her, and at same time evinces preparation to leave.)
Margaret
I've got to get my things off. Won't you wait here, dear, in case anybody comes? It's nearly time.
(Starts toward exit to rear, but is stopped by Connie.) Madge.
(Margaret immediately pauses and waits expectantly, smiling, while Connie is hesitant.)
I want to speak to you about something, Madge. You don't mind?
(Margaret, still smiling, shakes her head.) Just a warning. Not that anybody could believe for a moment, there is anything wrong, but —
Margaret
(Dispelling a shadow of irritation that has crossed her face.)
If it concerns Tom, don't tell me, please. You know he does do ridiculous things at times. But I don't let him worry me any more; so don't worry me about him.
(Connie remains silent, and Margaret grows curious.) Well?
Connie
It's not about Tom —
(Pauses.) It's about you.
Margaret
Oh.
Connie
I don't know how to begin.
Margaret
By coming right out with it, the worst of it, all at once, first.
Connie
It isn't serious at all, but – well, mother is worrying about it. You know how old-fashioned she is. And when you consider our position – father's and Tom's, I mean – it doesn't seem just right for you to be seeing so much of such an enemy of theirs. He has abused them dreadfully, you know. And there's that dreadful speech he is going to give to-morrow. You haven't seen the afternoon papers. He has made the most terrible charges against everybody – all of us, our friends, everybody.
Margaret
You mean Mr. Knox, of course. But he wouldn't harm anybody, Connie, dear.
Connie
(Bridling,) Oh, he wouldn't? He as good as publicly called father a thief.
Margaret
When did that happen? I never heard of it.
Connie
Well, he said that the money magnates had grown so unprincipled, sunk so low, that they would steal a mouse from a blind kitten.
Margaret
I don't see what father has to do with that.
Connie
He meant him just the same.
Margaret
You silly goose. He couldn't have meant father. Father? Why, father wouldn't look at anything less than fifty or a hundred millions.
Connie
And you speak to him and make much of him when you meet him places. You talked with him for half an hour at that Dugdale reception. You have him here in your own house – Tom's house – when he's such a bitter enemy of Tom's. (During the foregoing speech, Anthony Starkweather makes entrance from rear. His face is grave, and he is in a brown study, as if pondering weighty problems. At sight of the two women he pauses and surveys them. They are unaware of his presence.)
Margaret
You are wrong, Connie. He is nobody's enemy. He is the truest, cleanest, most right-seeking man I have ever seen.
Connie
