[_Sleigh-bells are heard in the distance, coming nearer._
CLARA. Good gracious! If you ask _me_, I think mama has got her hands
full. What's become of Miss Godesby and her brother?
TROTTER. When you went upstairs with your mother, they went down the
road.
CLARA. You know originally the idea was _I_ was to marry you.
TROTTER. Really--
CLARA. [_Laughingly._] Yes, and mama cut me out.
TROTTER. Oh, well, it can't be helped; we can't marry everybody.
CLARA. [_Noticing the bells._] _Somebody else arriving!_ That's
queer--nobody comes here in the winter; that's why we chose it, because
it would be quiet! Let's play this game.
[_Going to an iron frog on a box which stands near the house._
TROTTER. Perhaps it's Mrs. Sterling.
CLARA. No; if she was coming at all, she'd have come in time for the
wedding. [_She takes up the disks which lie beside the frog._] I should
hate to get married like you and mama--no splurge and no presents! Why,
the presents'd be half the fun! And think of all those you and she've
given in your life, and have lost now a good chance of getting back.
[_Throws a disk into the frog's open mouth._
TROTTER. _I'll_ give your mother all the presents she wants. I can
afford it; I don't want anybody to give us anything!
CLARA.
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