STEVEN.  It’s very hard, Georgiana.

LOUISE.  We can never all of us live on your income—­not as we’re used to.

GEORGIANA.  That’s true.  Come, Steve.  Give me your word never to go into another speculation and let’s throw it off for to-day.  Dick’s coming to say good-by.  Let’s give him happy memories of us, at least to take away with him. [A moment’s pause.] Come, Steve?

STEVEN. [Low voice.] All right.

GEORGIANA.  No more speculating; you’ll give me your word—­[STEVEN rises, GEORGIANA rises. STEVEN nods his head.]—­of honor, Steve?

STEVEN.  Yes!

[Nods his head.

GEORGIANA.  Then that’s settled.

[Gives SAM a calm, defiant look.

STEVEN.  O Georgy!  I don’t seem grateful, but I am.  I can’t tell you!  I can’t say!  But it’s wonderful what you’re doing!  God bless you!

[Puts his arms on GEORGIANA’S shoulders.

GEORGIANA. [With emotion, almost breaking down.] That’s all right,
Steve.  We’ll begin all over again.

[She kisses him.

LOUISE. [To GEORGIANA.] I suppose I ought to thank you too.

GEORGIANA.  No, don’t bother.  Come upstairs and have your hair shampooed.  Bella must have painted mother red enough by now; it’ll rest you and do you good.

LOUISE.  After all, you’re no real relation of ours, and you’ve done a fine thing.

GEORGIANA. [Very simply.] Don’t talk about it.  I wish it were more.  I realize fully what it means to your mother and you to have all your money gone.  But we’ll put our shoulders to the wheel and make the best of it.  Come, dear, come.

[She goes out Right. LOUISE is about to follow, but is stopped by STEVEN.

STEVEN.  Louise, do you forgive me?

LOUISE.  No, you ought to have asked my advice—­let me know.

STEVEN.  But when I used to talk to you about money matters, dear, you always begged me not to bother you.

LOUISE.  I don’t care, this is different.  Sam!

[Nodding good-by.

COAST. Do you mind my joining you to see the procession go by at five?

LOUISE.  No!

[She goes out Right.

STEVEN.  What procession?

COAST. Coleman’s regiment.

[He puts his feet upon small gilt chair beside the table.

STEVEN.  Oh, yes!  Well—­I’ve made a pretty big mess of things.  I’m not fit to live, that’s what’s the trouble with me.

COAST. Oh, you must take everything in the day’s work; but it’s a pity she made you give her that promise.

STEVEN.  Why?

COAST. [Goes to him.] You all can’t live on the income from five hundred thousand dollars.  Now there’ll be a bust up sure!

STEVEN.  Ss! that’s all I need.

[Sits on the sofa.