er}

(_Making an impatient gesture, then abruptly changing his mind,
speaking grimly._) Very well. Bring him in. I've paid a lot for
the Church, now we'll see what the Church can do for me.

{Connie}

(_Impulsively crossing stage to Margaret, putting arms around her,
and weeping._)

Please, please, Madge, give up the papers, and everything will be
hushed up. You heard what father said. Think what it means to
me if this scandal comes out. Father will hush it up. Not a soul
will dare to breathe a word of it. Give him the papers.

{Margaret}

(_Kissing her, shaking head, and setting her aside._) No; I can't.
But Connie, dearest--

(_Connie pauses._) It is not true, Connie. He--he is not my lover.
Tell me that you believe me.

{Connie}

(_Caressing her._) I do believe you. But won't you return the
papers--for my sake?

(_A knock at door._)

{Margaret}

I can't.

(_Enter Rutland._)

(_Connie returns to take care of Mrs. Starkweather._)

{Rutland}

(_Advances beamingly upon Starkweather._) My, what a family
gathering. I hastened on at once, my dear Mr. Starkweather, to
thank you in person, ere you fled away to New York, for your
generously splendid--yes, generously splendid--contribution--

(_Here the strained situation dawns upon him, and he remains
helplessly with mouth open, looking from one to another._)

{Starkweather}

A theft has been committed, Mr. Rutland. My daughter has stolen
something very valuable from me--a package of private papers, so
important--well, if she succeeds in making them public I shall
be injured to such an extent financially that there won't be any
more generously splendid donations for you or anybody else. I
have done my best to persuade her to return what she has stolen.
Now you try. Bring her to a realization of the madness of what
she is doing.

{Rutland}

(_Quite at sea, hemming and hawing._) As your spiritual
adviser, Mrs. Chalmers--if this be true--I recommend--I
suggest--I--ahem--I entreat--

{Margaret}

Please, Mr. Rutland, don't be ridiculous. Father is only making a
stalking horse out of you. Whatever I may have done, or not done,
I believe I am doing right. The whole thing is infamous. The
people have been lied to and robbed, and you are merely lending
yourself to the infamy of perpetuating the lying and the robbing.
If you persist in obeying my father's orders--yes, orders--you
will lead me to believe that you are actuated by desire for more
of th