Scene—Same as First Act. Mrs. Grovenor, sitting on sofa, R. Alice, chair, L. Dr. Endicott, R., at table, discovered.

Mrs. G. Thank heaven, my husband is in his right mind once more, and after heaven we must thank you, doctor.

Dr. E. I have done all I could, and I am happy to have been so successful.

Mrs. G. But since he has recovered his senses, his business affairs are worrying him. Would it not be better to explain everything?

Dr. E. Yes, I think it will do to speak to-day, and, as a change of scene will be beneficial, get him up in his easy-chair and out here, if possible.

Mrs. G. And Eugene, that unhappy boy.

Dr. E. I doubt not this experience will be the needed one to arouse him to better things. You had best leave him to Kate.

Mrs. G. Yes, I suppose so. Alas! I fear I have been much to blame for what has happened. I was too ignorant and helpless to be a wise mother. Dear Kate, what should we have done without her? (Rising.) But I must now go to my husband, who needs me every moment. I will follow your directions, doctor. (Exit, L. 2 E.)

Dr. E. I am sorry to see you looking pale, Miss Alice, I hope you are not going to be ill also?

Alice. Oh, no! I have been anxious about father.

Dr. E. But now all occasion for anxiety has passed.

Alice. Yes, and now I am to confess the truth somewhat out of sorts with myself.

Dr. E. That is unfortunate, as we cannot easily get away from ourselves.

Alice. Too true.

(Enter Doughlass, C.)

Doug. (coming L. of table). Aw—good afternoon, doctor. I thought I would come to take you out to wide, Alice.

Alice (pettishly). Why, you have been here once to-day.

Doug. Aw—yes—you cannot complain that I am not devoted, you know!

Alice (aside). I wish I could. (Aloud.) Well, I suppose I may as well go out to ride as anything else. (Rising.)

Doug. That is right; get your hat and we will go at once. (Alice, exit, L. 2 E.) You see I like to have her go out to wide, for it makes the fellows all envy me, you know. Alice is a devilish handsome girl, now, isn't she, doctor?

Dr. E. Very handsome indeed.

Doug. Yes—aw—and it's weally wough on a fellow, you know, to have to pay his attentions in a lunatic asylum.

Dr. E. A lunatic asylum!

Doug. Aw—yes—that is all I could think of whenever I have come here for the last two weeks, what with the old man waving wound, Eugene moping and tearing his hair, and Miss Kate having everything all her own way.

Dr. E. Her father has cause to be thankful that his daughter does have everything her own way, at last. (Rises.)

Doug. You surprise me. Aw—I have no doubt my—aw—future sister-in-law is a very smart woman, you know, but you see a fellow is afwaid of these smart women.

(Enter Alice, L. 2 E., with hat, etc.)

Alice. Yes, it makes things too unequal, no doubt.

Doug. Aw—pwecisely. (Aside.) What the deuce does she mean? (Aloud.) Aw—if you are weady, my dear, we will bid the doctor good by.

Alice. Ah, yes. We will go. (Aside, as they go up.) I will teach him something about a woman's smartness after we are married. (Exit with Doughlass, C.)

Dr. E. (R., looking after them). Poor foolish couple! I pity you both. She is marrying him for his money, and he her for her good looks. And good looks fade, and money is powerless to satisfy the cravings of the heart, and then, what? (Enter Jim, C.) Well, Jim?

Jim. If you please, sir, will you want the carriage?

Dr. E. Not yet. By the by, Jim, have you fixed everything all right with Jennie?

Jim. Not—not exactly, sir. To tell the truth (comes down L.), she has been going on worse than ever since the master has been sick, and Miss Kate has been, as it were, the head of the family. "There's a woman for you!" says Jennie, "and do you dare tell me you have any business to go and vote and Miss Kate stay at home?" says Jennie, and what can I say, sir? It's not for me to set myself up above Miss Kate!

Dr. E. Poor Jim! Your love matters really do not glide along very smoothly. But they never do, Jim (sighing), they never do.

Jim. You're very right, sir. To be in love is the most wearing thing I know of.

Dr. E. I fear Jennie is a sad tease.

Jim. Tease, sir! Why, she even teases me in my dreams!

Dr. E. Then if she makes you so unhappy, why not give up all thoughts of her, and—

Jim. Give up all thoughts of Jennie! Never, sir! Why, I had rather be made that miserable that I am reduced to walking about in my bones than give up Jennie. No, sir! It's a curious fact. (Enter Jennie, C.) A strange weakness in the composition of a man is that the more unhappy a woman makes him the better he likes her!

Jen. (coming down, C.). You don't say so!

Jim. Gracious Peter! I have done it now!

Jen. Yes, you are caught in a confession of great weakness!

Jim. I—I—take it all back.

Jen. You can't; it's boarded.

Dr. E. Right, Jennie. But what is this I hear about you?

Jen. (confused). About me, sir?

Dr. E. Yes, about your great aversion to our unfortunate sex?

Jen. Lor, sir, I don't know. I suppose Jim has been telling you some nonsense or other! (Turns and makes face at Jim.)

Jim. No, I haven't, Jennie, upon my soul I haven't. I only told him what you said about a man being inferior to a woman, that's all.

Jen. Oh! that was all, was it? Well, Mr. Jim, you are a smart young man, you are! And besides, I never said anything of the kind. The fact is, doctor, I expressed my sentiments to him, that's all.

Dr. E. And may I inquire what those sentiments are?

Jen. Oh! it's only that I don't believe in getting married and being made a slave of and perhaps beat and told you don't know anything because you are a woman: those are the sentiments he objects to, sir.

Jim. Good gracious, Jennie! Did I ever do any such thing?

Jen. Of course not; you never had a chance.

Dr. E. But really, my good girl, I do not believe you think in your heart quite so meanly of Jim as your words would signify. In your zeal for your own sex, do not be unjust to ours, for remember that is the very thing you condemn in us. (Exit, C.)

Jen. (half crying). Well, Jim, I don't see what on earth you wanted to go and make me out so horrid to the doctor for. Just because I think a good deal of his opinion, I suppose.

Jim. There, now! oh, dear! how you do fly off, to be sure. Make you out horrid? I, who would think you was perfect if you would only let up a little once in a while on me about your rights.

Jen. Yes, and you went and made the doctor think that I not only wanted my rights, which I do, but yours, too, which I don't.

Jim. You don't? I'm sure I thought you did.

Jen. (stamping foot). Oh! is there anything in the world so stupid as a man?

Jim. Stupid! I have a good mind to get mad.

Jen. (turning her back to him). I would if I were you.

Jim. Well, I— (Goes up C., then returns.) No, I can't get mad with you, Jennie. But won't you please just remember how you went on about the tyranny of the sex, and all that sort of thing, and then don't blame me if I thought you wanted to tyrannize a little. I am sure that wasn't stupid.

Jen. It was absurd, then. I only want my share, that's all.

Jim. Is that all? Oh, Jennie (gets down on knees), if you will only marry me, you shall have your share, yes, and a little more.

Jen. My share of being trampled on, do you mean?

Jim. Who said anything about being trampled on? Well, your share of trampling, if you must have it.

Jen. I think it is just awful of you to say that I am a tyrant.

Jim (jumping up). Good gracious, there you go again! How you do fly off. When did I ever say any such thing?

Jen. Well, Jim, supposing—just supposing, you know—that I should make up my mind to marry you—

Jim. Oh, Jennie! If you only would. The very idea makes me so happy, I—I could jump way to the ceiling.

(Holds out arms to embrace her, she runs under them.)

Jen. Could you? Well, don't be in too much of a hurry, because it might hurt you when you came down, for you know I was only supposing.

Jim. Jennie, do you want to see me pine to a shadow and blow away with love? I can't stand this sort of thing any longer. I will go away to California, that's what I will do!

Jen. (coquettishly). But, Jim, don't you think you had better wait until I get through supposing?

Jim. Wait! I will wait until I am bald if you will only promise to have me then.

Jen. Dear me, I shouldn't want you then. In fact, I couldn't think of having you any way, if I thought you would ever be bald!

Jim (very fast). Oh, I never shall; no, indeed, we are not a bald family, there never was a bald man in it, the babies are all born with thick heads of hair. One of the family was scalped once, to be sure, but it was accidental, and his hair all grew out again in a few days. Look at mine. (Sticks it up.)

Jen. (screams). Oh, don't! Nature has made you homely enough without your trying to help her.

Jim. But I only wanted to settle this bald question forever. And now, Jennie, won't you go on supposing?

Jen. Well, supposing I should marry you some time, would you find a minister who was willing to leave "obey" out of the marriage service?

Jim. If there is one in America I'll find him. For I shouldn't want to make you swear to a lie, Jennie.

Jen. And then would you respect my rights and acknowledge equal rights for both of us?

Jim. Of course, your rights and equal rights,—principally your rights.

Jen. Well, then, perhaps—but wait a moment; if there should ever be a balance over equal rights, it must come on my side, must it not? Because a man is apt to misuse his power, you know.

Jim (going near her). You shall have all the balances.

Jen. (edging away). I don't know but you are almost too willing.

Jim. Now she is off on another tack. What can a man do?

Jen. However, I can get a divorce if you don't keep your word, so, as you are a pretty good fellow, Jim, I think I will condescend to try you as a husband.

Jim. Hurrah! (Embraces her.) But about this condescending—

Jen. That is one of the balances, Jim.

Jim. Oh, well! (Kisses her and is about to repeat when she stops him.)

Jen. No, Jim. Equal rights. I must give you half, you know. (Kisses him and runs off, C.)

Jim. Equal rights ain't so bad, after all. (Goes after Jennie and runs against Eugene, who enters moodily, C.) I beg pardon, sir, but I am so equal—happy. (Exit, C.)

Eug. What is the matter with Jim? Happy! Well, I am glad some one is. I never shall be again. This is what my cursed easy disposition has brought me to. I have ruined myself and almost killed my father. If it was not for Kate I would blow my brains out—if I have any. (Sits dejectedly, R.)

(Enter Lizzie, C.)

Liz. Eugene!

Eug. Lizzie, is it you? (Aside.) I am ashamed to look her in the face.

Liz. I have been trying to see you ever since that—that trouble, but I never have been able to find you alone. I thought perhaps it might be some little comfort to you to know that I sympathized with and pitied you, and that I had faith enough in you to believe you would redeem the past.

Eug. (starting up). These words to me from you? Oh, Lizzie, I am a miserable wretch.

Liz. You have been gay, careless, reckless, but oh, I cannot believe you wholly bad. My share in your thoughtless past I freely forgive. I wanted to tell you this, and say I hope in the future to see you worthy the esteem of every one.

Eug. I dare not hope that, Lizzie.

Liz. But you will try?

Eug. Oh, yes! I shall try. But my father,—he will surely never forgive me, will banish me from his house.

Liz. Not if you tell him how penitent you are.

Eug. He has not a heart like yours, Lizzie.

Liz. But Kate will intercede for you.

Eug. Kate, heaven bless her, I know she will. What has she not done for me already? And to think that I once set myself up as so far above her, and plumed myself on being a lord of creation,—I, a poor, weak fool, not worthy to touch the hem of her garment.

Liz. Those words prove to me that you are no longer the Eugene you were.

Eug. I hope, I trust not. As you say, I did not mean to be really bad. I was inexperienced, thoughtless, eager for the pleasures of life, and I never stopped to think of consequences. How could you have loved me—for you did love me once, Lizzie?

Liz. It was your best side you showed me, Eugene.

Eug. At first, yes; but I showed you my worst afterwards.

Liz. The flaws in her idol cannot kill a woman's love.

Eug. Lizzie, I did not mean to break your heart. Do you believe me?

Liz. I do; and, as I said, forgive you freely.

Eug. For the first time I begin to realize the happiness that might have been mine, the value of the heart I threw away.

Liz. The heart that has always been yours, Eugene.

Eug. (taking her hand). Mine! Mine now! What! Do you mean to say that you love me now, ruined and disgraced as I am, soon perhaps to be driven from my father's door, and go forth into the world penniless and alone?

Liz. How little you know of woman's love! Think you it endures only through the bright summer days of sunshine? No, Eugene. In the time of darkness and sorrow a woman's love never fails.

Eug. And would you share my fate now?

Liz. Would I? Oh, how gladly! But you forget, I am a poor girl, a seamstress in your mother's house, and—

Eug. I would indeed be unworthy of the blessing of your love should I think of that. Lizzie, your love shall raise me from the depths into which I have fallen. (Embraces her as Kate enters, C.)

Kate. Eugene! Lizzie!

Eug. (R. C.). Do not misapprehend, Kate. Let me explain before you judge.

Kate (coming down L.). Go on.

Liz. (aside, R.). Dare I hope she will approve?

Eug. Lizzie and I met—a year ago!

Kate. What! is it possible!

Liz. Do you not remember, I told you all the first day I came to your house?

Kate. What do you say? Do you mean (staggers back against table for support)—can it be that it was to him—to Eugene that you then referred?

Liz. To whom else? It was of course Eugene.

Kate. Eugene! Oh, what a cruel mistake! Oh, what a wrong I have done a noble man! Heaven forgive me!

Eug. (going to her). Dear Kate, what is the matter? what do you mean?

Kate. Do not ask me; dear, forget what I have said. It is all right now—yes! all right now! Eugene—Lizzie—you do not need tell me anymore. I understand (joins their hands); I am very glad, and now will you please leave me? I—I would like to be alone.

Liz. You are not offended?

Kate. Offended? no indeed, child. I am sure you have both acted for the best.

Eug. Dear Kate, with the help of my sister and my wife, I hope I may one day be what I once thought I was—a man! (Exit, C., with Lizzie, who comes back to kiss Kate, then exit.)

Kate. Can it be true? Has the heavy load that has lain on my heart, at the bottom of all the other loads that have lain there of late, really gone? Yes—gone—all gone! Will he, can he forgive me? I must see him at once! (Rings bell.) How could I for a moment mistrust him?

(Enter Jennie, C.)

Kate. Please ask Dr. Endicott to come here.

Jen. Yes'm. (Aside.) They two would make another nice equal-rights couple. (Exit, C.)

Kate. What shall I say to him? Oh! if they could see me tremble, they would no longer call me "strong-minded."

(Enter Dr. Endicott, C.)

Dr. E. You sent for me, Kate? At last we meet alone!

Kate. Yes, I sent for you to say, forgive me!

Dr. E. Forgive you! For refusing me an explanation, do you mean?

Kate. For ever having doubted you. Oh! how can I say how bitterly I have wronged you?

Dr. E. Wronged me? and how? Do not fear: tell me all. Whatever it may be, it is forgiven.

Kate. I doubted you. It seems impossible now that I could have done so, but I did; circumstances caused me to lay the wrong-doing of another at your door.

Dr. E. If the cloud that has been between us so long has gone, I am too thankful to give anything else a second thought. So ask me not to forgive you, but rather let me ask you if you love me?

Kate. I love and honor you with all my heart.

Dr. E. As I do you. (Embraces her.)

Kate. And please heaven our home shall be a happy one, if I am strong-minded!

Dr. E. Because you are strong-minded, dear. And now we must prepare to relieve your father's mind of the anxiety that is growing greater every moment. Hark! they are bringing him in.

(Mr. Grovenor is pushed in on chair by Mrs. Grovenor and Jennie, C. Jennie immediately exits, C. Mrs. Grovenor goes to L.)

Kate (going R. of him). Dear father, I am so happy to see you out of your room once more.

Mr. G. Thank you, Kate. I—I hope to get back to business again soon.

Dr. E. (L. of Mr. G.). Do not give yourself any uneasiness about your business. That has gone on well.

Mr. G. No, no, that cannot be. I remember—

Dr. E. That you were on the verge of ruin. But the crisis has passed, and now all is well.

Mr. G. But—Brown's note.

Dr. E. Brown has given you three months' time.

Mr. G. Strange—oh! but Eugene—

Dr. E. That note has been paid.

Mr. G. Paid! can it be? But how, who has done all this—you, doctor?

Dr. E. Not I, but one nearer and dearer, one more deserving of your thanks—your daughter. (Indicates Kate to him, who is leaning over his chair.)

Mr. G. What, my daughter! You, Kate, have done this?

Kate (coming around to his side, R.). Yes, dear father, my woman's wit has been equal to the occasion. I saw Brown myself. I had saved up a little money for the purpose of some day using in studying art, and with that I settled Eugene's debts. I have taken your place in the business as far as with my limited knowledge I could. So do not worry any more, dear father.

Mr. G. Ah! my daughter, how foolish, how blind I have been! But the scales have fallen from my eyes at last, and I thank God for the great gift of my daughter. (Embraces Kate.)

(Enter Eugene and Lizzie, C. Eugene goes and kneels before Mr.Grovenor. Lizzie stops up stage.)

Eug. Father, can you overlook what has passed and let me try once more?

Mr. G. My boy, I have erred too much myself to condemn you. We will both redeem the past. (Lays hand on his head.)

Eug. Father, your confidence will not, shall not be misplaced.

Kate (bringing down Lizzie, R.). And now, father, give your blessing, will you not, on his union with one who has long loved him, and who will help him to keep his word?

Mr. G. What! He wishes to marry Lizzie!

Kate. Yes, father, and she will make him a good wife.

Mr. G. (taking Lizzie's hand). Let me look at you. You have a good, sweet face, child. Away with all false ideas of caste. Help my son to overcome his past errors and I will love you always. (Lizzie kneels at Eugene's side and he joins their hands.)

Eug. (rising and taking Lizzie L. to Mrs. Grovenor). And you, mother, do you consent?

Mrs. G. I will confess that once I might have said no, but now—now—now that I realize how false have been so many of my ideas, I dare trust myself only to say, may you be happy. (Goes back of Mr. Grovenor's chair, leaning over it.)

(Enter Doughlass and Alice, followed by Jim and Jennie, C.)

Doug. (R.). Aw—quite a family gathering, I declare.

Alice. We are just in time to complete the circle.

Dr. E. (R. of Mr. Grovenor's chair with Kate). And now, Mr. Grovenor, will you give your blessing? For Kate has promised to be my wife.

Mrs. G. My dear Kate.

Alice. Can it be?

Doug. (aside). Going to mawwy the strong-minded one? Good gracious!

Mr. G. Doctor, you have won a pearl of great price, but you are worthy of it. Heaven bless you both.

Alice (aside). My ideas have been all wrong, but my fate is fixed now.

Jim (coming down L. with Jennie). If you please, now, there is so much being said about getting married, I would like to mention that Jennie and I are going to get married, too.

Jen. On equal rights.

Dr. E. Equal rights to all.

Kate. And I wish to every woman in the land might come equal rights, independence, and last, but not least, love.