Henry! What are you doing? Are your feet wet?

REV. MR. BATHOLOMMEY. No, Rose; they're not. I want a drink and I'm going
to take it. It's a bad night. [_Drinks._

COLONEL LAWTON. [_Throws a hickory log on the fire, which presently blazes
up, making the room much lighter._] Go ahead, Frederik. [_Sits._

REV. MR. BATHOLOMMEY _has drawn up a chair for his wife, and now seats
himself before the snapping hickory fire._

REV. MR. BATHOLOMMEY. I knew that your uncle would remember his friends
and his charities. He was so liberal! One might say of him that he was the
very soul of generosity. He gave in such a free-handed, princely fashion.

FREDERIK. [_Reading in a businesslike manner._] For Mrs. Batholommey--

MRS. BATHOLOMMEY. The dear man--to think that he remembered me! I knew
he'd remember the church and Mr. Batholommey, of course; but to think that
he'd remember me! He knew that my income was very limited. He was so
thoughtful! His purse was always open.

FREDERIK. [_Eyes_ MRS. BATHOLOMMEY _for a second, then continues._] For
Mr. Batholommey--[REV. MR. BATHOLOMMEY _nods solemnly._] and the Colonel.

COLONEL LAWTON. [_Taking out a cigar._] He knew that I did the best I
could for him ... [_His voice breaks._] the grand old man. [_Recovering._]
What'd he leave me? Mrs. B.--er? [_Nods inquiringly at_ MRS. BATHOLOMMEY,
_who bows assent, and he lights his cigar._