Judith (with gentle impressiveness).  Friends, Mrs. Dudgeon. (She takes the chair from beside the fireplace; and places it for Mrs. Dudgeon, who comes from the bedroom in black, with a clean handkerchief to her eyes.  All rise, except Essie.  Mrs. Titus and Mrs. William produce equally clean handkerchiefs and weep.  It is an affecting moment.)

Uncle William.  Would it comfort you, sister, if we were to offer up a prayer?

Uncle Titus.  Or sing a hymn?

Anderson (rather hastily).  I have been with our sister this morning already, friends.  In our hearts we ask a blessing.

All (except Essie).  Amen.

They all sit down, except Judith, who stands behind Mrs.
Dudgeon’s chair.

Judith (to Essie).  Essie:  did you say Amen?

Essie (scaredly).  No.

Judith.  Then say it, like a good girl.

Essie.  Amen.

Uncle William (encouragingly).  That’s right:  that’s right.  We know who you are; but we are willing to be kind to you if you are a good girl and deserve it.  We are all equal before the Throne.

This republican sentiment does not please the women, who are convinced that the Throne is precisely the place where their superiority, often questioned in this world, will be recognized and rewarded.

Christy (at the window).  Here’s Dick.

Anderson and Hawkins look round sociably.  Essie, with a gleam of interest breaking through her misery, looks up.  Christy grins and gapes expectantly at the door.  The rest are petrified with the intensity of their sense of Virtue menaced with outrage by the approach of flaunting Vice.  The reprobate appears in the doorway, graced beyond his alleged merits by the morning sunlight.  He is certainly the best looking member of the family; but his expression is reckless and sardonic, his manner defiant and satirical, his dress picturesquely careless.  Only his forehead and mouth betray an extraordinary steadfastness, and his eyes are the eyes of a fanatic.

Richard (on the threshold, taking off his hat).  Ladies and gentlemen:  your servant, your very humble servant. (With this comprehensive insult, he throws his hat to Christy with a suddenness that makes him jump like a negligent wicket keeper, and comes into the middle of the room, where he turns and deliberately surveys the company.) How happy you all look! how glad to see me! (He turns towards Mrs. Dudgeon’s chair; and his lip rolls up horribly from his dog tooth as he meets her look of undisguised hatred.) Well, mother:  keeping up appearances as usual? that’s right, that’s right. (Judith pointedly moves away from his neighborhood to the other side of the kitchen, holding her skirt instinctively as if to save it from contamination.  Uncle Titus promptly marks his approval of her action by rising from the sofa, and placing a chair for her to sit