MRS. HUNTER. [_Tearfully._] My dears, it was a great success! Everybody
was there!

[_The three younger women stand and look about the room, as if it were
strange to them--as if it were empty. There is a moment's silence._

BLANCHE. [_Tenderly._] Mother, why don't you take off your bonnet?

MRS. HUNTER. Take it off for me; it _will_ be a great relief.

BLANCHE. Help me, Jess.

MRS. HUNTER. [_Irritably._] Yes, _do_ something, Jessie. You've
mortified me terribly to-day! That child hasn't shed a tear. People'll
think you didn't love your father. [_The two are taking off_ MRS.
HUNTER'S _bonnet._ MRS. HUNTER _waits for an answer from_ JESSICA; _none
comes._] I never saw any one so heartless! [_Tearful again._] And her
father adored her. _She_ was one of the things we quarrelled _most_
about!

[_Over_ MRS. HUNTER'S _head_ BLANCHE _exchanges a sympathetic look with_
JESSICA _to show she understands._

CLARA. I'm sure _I've_ cried enough. I've cried buckets.

[_She goes to_ MRS. HUNTER _as_ BLANCHE _and_ JESSICA _take away the
bonnet and veil and put them on the piano._

MRS. HUNTER. [_Kissing Clara._] Yes, dear, you are your mother's own
child. And _you_ lose the most by it, too.