[They go out Right.

[JORDAN steps into the room to announce the visitors, and seeing no one there, bows as the three pass him.

JORDAN.  The ladies will be down at once.

[He goes out Right.

[The three turn, looking about the room with curiosity, as if the funeral might have made some difference in the house.

[MISS SILLERTON is a handsome, attractive woman, most fashionably dressed and perfectly conventional in character and intelligence. MISS GODESBY is a little slow, more assertive, sharper of tongue, more acutely intelligent, and equally smartly dressed.  She has still a remnant of real, sincere feeling buried under a cynical mask which her life in a fast set has developed for her self-preservation. TROTTER is a foolish young person, meaning well enough according to his lights, which are not of the biggest and brightest.

TROTTER.  Classy house altogether!

MISS SILLERTON.  Mrs. Hunter went to the most expensive decorator in town, and told him, no matter what it cost, to go ahead and do his worst!

[They all laugh and seat themselves comfortably.

TROTTER.  Say!  The youngest daughter is a good looker—­very classy.

MISS SILLERTON.  That’s the one we told you about, the one we want you to marry.

MISS GODESBY.  Yes, with your money and her cleverness, she’ll rubber neck you into the smartest push in town!

TROTTER.  You’ve promised I shall know the whole classy lot before spring.

MISS GODESBY.  So you will if you do as we tell you.  But you mustn’t let society see that you know you’re getting in; nothing pleases society so much as to think you’re a blatant idiot.  It makes everybody feel you’re their equal—­that’s why you get in.

TROTTER.  I’ve got a coach and can drive four-in-hand.  I’ve an automobile drag, and the biggest private yacht in the world building.  I’m going to have the most expensive house in Long Island, where the oysters come from, and I’ve bought a lot in Newport twice as big as the swellest fellow’s there.  I’ve got a house in London and a flat in Paris, and I make money fly.  I think I ought to be a cinch as a classy success.

MISS GODESBY.  Don’t be a yap; flag Clara Hunter and you’re all right!

MISS SILLERTON.  Her father’s position was the best in this country!

TROTTER.  But he’s dead.

[Sitting.

MISS GODESBY.  A good thing for you, for he would never have stood for you!

TROTTER.  He’d have had to—­or do without me as a son-in-law—­I wouldn’t marry the Venus of Milo if her father didn’t think I was good enough.  I’m no Dodo bird!

MISS GODESBY.  It’s up to you now, Trotter!  Go in and win.

[Enter TOMPSON Right; a decided change takes place in all their manners.

TOMPSON.  Madam will be down at once, miss.