diff options
Diffstat (limited to '2829-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 2829-0.txt | 3701 |
1 files changed, 3701 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/2829-0.txt b/2829-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..02e5550 --- /dev/null +++ b/2829-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3701 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Fanny and the Servant Problem, by Jerome K. +Jerome + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most +other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of +the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have +to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. + + + + +Title: Fanny and the Servant Problem + A Quite Possible Play in Four Acts + + +Author: Jerome K. Jerome + + + +Release Date: September 8, 2014 [eBook #2829] +[This file was first posted on 2 August 2000] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM*** + + +Transcribed from the 1909 Hodder & Stoughton edition by David Price, +email ccx074@pglaf.org + + * * * * * + + + + + + _Fanny and_ + _the Servant Problem_ + + + _A Quite Possible Play in Four Acts_ + + _By_ + _Jerome K. Jerome_ + + * * * * * + + * * * * * + + _COPYRIGHT_ 1909 _BY_ + _JEROME KLAPKA JEROME_ + + * * * * * + + * * * * * + + _Hodder and Stoughton_ + _Limited_ _London_ + + * * * * * + +Amateurs wishing to perform this play should apply to: + + SAMUEL FRENCH, LTD. + + 26 SOUTHAMPTON STREET, + STRAND, W.C.2. + + * * * * * + + _Made and Printed in Great Britain_. + _Hazell_, _Watson & Viney_, _Ld._, _London and Aylesbury_. + + + + +THE CHARACTERS + + +_Fanny_ + +_Her Husband_, _Vernon Wetherell_, _Lord Bantock_ + +_Her Butler_, _Martin Bennet_ + +_Her Housekeeper_, _Susannah Bennet_ + +_Her Maid_, _Jane Bennet_ + +_Her Second Footman_, _Ernest Bennet_ + +_Her Still-room Maid_, _Honoria Bennet_ + +_Her Aunts by marriage_, _the Misses Wetherell_ + +_Her Local Medical Man_, _Dr. Freemantle_ + +_Her quondam Companions_, “_Our Empire_”: + _England_ + _Scotland_ + _Ireland_ + _Wales_ + _Canada_ + _Australia_ + _New Zealand_ + _Africa_ + _India_ + _Newfoundland_ + _Malay Archipelago_ + _Straits Settlements_ + +_Her former Business Manager_, _George P. Newte_ + + + + +_ACT I_ + + + _SCENE_ + +_The Lady Bantock’s boudoir_, _Bantock Hall_, _Rutlandshire_, _a spacious +room handsomely furnished_ (_chiefly in the style of Louis the +Fourteenth_) _and lighted by three high windows_, _facing the +south-west_. _A door between the fireplace and the windows leads to his +lordship’s apartments_. _A door the other side of the fireplace is the +general entrance_. _The door opposite the windows leads through her +ladyship’s dressing-room into her ladyship’s bedroom_. _Over the great +fireplace hangs a full-length portrait of Constance_, _first Lady +Bantock_, _by Hoppner_. + +_The time is sunset of a day in early spring_. _The youthful Lord +Bantock is expected home with his newly wedded wife this evening_; _and +the two Misses Wetherell_, _his aunts_, _have been busy decorating the +room with flowers_, _and are nearing the end of their labours_. _The two +Misses Wetherell have grown so much alike it would be difficult for a +stranger to tell one from the other_; _and to add to his confusion they +have fallen into the habit of dressing much alike in a fashion of their +own that went out long ago_, _while the hair of both is white_, _and even +in their voices they have caught each other’s tones_. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL [_she has paused from her work and is looking +out of the windows_]. Such a lovely sunset, dear. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL [_she leaves her work and joins her sister_. +_The two stand holding each other’s hands_, _looking out_]. Beautiful! +[_A silence_. _The sun is streaming full into the room_.] You—you don’t +think, dear, that this room—[_she looks round it_]—may possibly be a +little _too_ sunny to quite suit her? + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL [_not at first understanding_]. How, dear, +_too_ sun—[_She grasps the meaning_.] You mean—you think that perhaps +she does that sort of thing? + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Well, dear, one is always given to +understand that they do, women—ladies of her profession. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. It seems to me so wicked: painting God’s work. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. We mustn’t judge hardly, dear. Besides, +dear, we don’t know yet that she does. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Perhaps she’s young, and hasn’t commenced it. +I fancy it’s only the older ones that do it. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. He didn’t mention her age, I remember. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. No, dear, but I feel she’s young. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. I do hope she is. We may be able to mould +her. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. We must be very sympathetic. One can +accomplish so much with sympathy. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. We must get to understand her. [_A sudden +thought_.] Perhaps, dear, we may get to like her. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL [_doubtful_]. We might _try_, dear. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. For Vernon’s sake. The poor boy seems so +much in love with her. We must— + +_Bennet has entered_. _He is the butler_. + +BENNET. Doctor Freemantle. I have shown him into the library. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Thank you, Bennet. Will you please tell him +that we shall be down in a few minutes? I must just finish these +flowers. [_She returns to the table_.] + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Why not ask him to come up here? We could +consult him—about the room. He always knows everything. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. A good idea. Please ask him, Bennet, if he +would mind coming up to us here. [_Bennet_, _who has been piling up +fresh logs upon the fire_, _turns to go_.] Oh, Bennet! You will remind +Charles to put a footwarmer in the carriage! + +BENNET. I will see to it myself. [_He goes out_.] + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Thank you, Bennet. [_To her sister_] One’s +feet are always so cold after a railway journey. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. I’ve been told that, nowadays, they heat the +carriages. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Ah, it is an age of luxury! I wish I knew +which were her favourite flowers. It is so nice to be greeted by one’s +favourite flowers. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. I feel sure she loves lilies. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. And they are so appropriate to a bride. So— + +_Announced by Bennet_, _Dr. Freemantle bustles in_. _He is a dapper +little man_, _clean-shaven_, _with quick brisk ways_. + +DR. FREEMANTLE [_he shakes hands_]. Well, and how are we this afternoon? +[_He feels the pulse of the Younger Miss Wetherell_] Steadier. Much +steadier! [_of the Elder Miss Wetherell_.] Nervous tension greatly +relieved. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. She has been sleeping much better. + +DR. FREEMANTLE [_he pats the hand of the Elder Miss Wetherell_]. +Excellent! Excellent! + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. She ate a good breakfast this morning. + +DR. FREEMANTLE [_he pats the hand of the Younger Miss Wetherell_]. +Couldn’t have a better sign. [_He smiles from one to the other_.] Brain +disturbance, caused by futile opposition to the inevitable, evidently +abating. One page Marcus Aurelius every morning before breakfast. +“Adapt thyself,” says Marcus Aurelius, “to the things with which thy lot +has been cast. Whatever happens—” + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. You see, doctor, it was all so sudden. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. The unexpected! It has a way of taking us by +surprise—bowling us over—completely. Till we pull ourselves together. +Make the best of what can’t be helped—like brave, sweet gentlewomen. +[_He presses their hands_. _They are both wiping away a tear_.] When do +you expect them? + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. To-night, by the half-past eight train. We +had a telegram this morning from Dover. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Um! and this is to be her room? [_He takes it in_.] +The noble and renowned Constance, friend and confidant of the elder Pitt, +maker of history, first Lady Bantock—by Hoppner—always there to keep an +eye on her, remind her of the family traditions. Brilliant idea, +brilliant! [_They are both smiling with pleasure_.] + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. And you don’t think—it is what we wanted to +ask you—that there is any fear of her finding it a little trying—the +light? You see, this is an exceptionally sunny room. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. And these actresses—if all one hears is +true— + +_The dying sun is throwing his last beams across the room_. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Which, thank God, it isn’t. [_He seats himself in a +large easy-chair_. _The two ladies sit side by side on a settee_.] I’ll +tell you just exactly what you’ve got to expect. A lady—a few years +older than the boy himself, but still young. Exquisite figure; +dressed—perhaps a trifle too regardless of expense. Hair—maybe just a +shade _too_ golden. All that can be altered. Features—piquant, with +expressive eyes, the use of which she probably understands, and an almost +permanent smile, displaying an admirably preserved and remarkably even +set of teeth. But, above all, clever. That’s our sheet-anchor. The +woman’s clever. She will know how to adapt herself to her new position. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL [_turning to her sister_]. Yes, she must be +clever to have obtained the position that she has. [_To the Doctor_] +Vernon says that she was quite the chief attraction all this winter, in +Paris. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. And the French public is so critical. + +DR. FREEMANTLE [_drily_]. Um! I was thinking rather of her cleverness +in “landing” poor Vernon. The lad’s not a fool. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. We must do her justice. I think she was +really in love with him. + +DR. FREEMANTLE [_still more drily_]. Very possibly. Most café-chantant +singers, I take it, would be—with an English lord. [_He laughs_.] + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. You see, she didn’t know he was a lord. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Didn’t know—? + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. No. She married him, thinking him to be a +plain Mr. Wetherell, an artist. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Where d’ye get all that from? + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. From Vernon himself. You’ve got his last +letter, dear. [_She has opened her chatelaine bag_.] Oh, no, I’ve got +it myself. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. He’s not going to break it to her till they +reach here this evening. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL [_she reads_]. Yes. “I shall not break it to +her before we reach home. We were married quietly at the _Hôtel de +Ville_, and she has no idea I am anything else than plain Vernon James +Wetherell, a fellow-countryman of her own, and a fellow-artist. The dear +creature has never even inquired whether I am rich or poor.” I like her +for that. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. You mean to tell me—[_He jumps up_. _With his hands in +his jacket pockets_, _he walks to and fro_.] I suppose it’s possible. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. You see, she isn’t the ordinary class of +music-hall singer. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. I should say not. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. She comes of quite a good family. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Her uncle was a bishop. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Bishop? Of where? + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL [_with the letter_]. He says he can’t spell it. +It’s somewhere in New Zealand. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Do they have bishops over there? + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Well, evidently. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Then her cousin is a judge. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. In New Zealand? + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL [_again referring to the letter_]. No—in Ohio. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Seems to have been a somewhat scattered family. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. People go about so much nowadays. + +_Mrs. Bennet has entered_. _She is the housekeeper_. + +MRS. BENNET [_she is about to speak to the Misses Wetherell_; _sees the +Doctor_]. Good afternoon, doctor. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Afternoon, Mrs. Bennet. + +MRS. BENNET [_she turns to the Misses Wetherell_, _her watch in her +hand_]. I was thinking of having the fire lighted in her ladyship’s +bedroom. It is half past six. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. You are always so thoughtful. She may be +tired. + +MRS. BENNET. If so, everything will be quite ready. [_She goes out_, +_closing door_.] + +DR. FREEMANTLE. What do they think about it all—the Bennets? You have +told them? + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. We thought it better. You see, one hardly +regards them as servants. They have been in the family so long. Three +generations of them. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Really, since our poor dear brother’s death, +Bennet has been more like the head of the house than the butler. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Of course, he doesn’t say much. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. It is her having been on the stage that they +feel so. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. You see, they have always been a religious +family. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Do you know, I really think they feel it more +than we do. I found Peggy crying about it yesterday, in the scullery. + +DR. FREEMANTLE [_he has been listening with a touch of amusement_.] +Peggy Bennet? + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Yes. _Charles_ Bennet’s daughter. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Happen to have a servant about the place who isn’t a +Bennet? + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. No, no, I don’t really think we have. Oh, +yes—that new girl Mrs. Bennet engaged last week for the dairy. What is +her name? + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Arnold. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Ah, yes, Arnold. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Ah! + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. I think she’s a cousin, dear. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Only a second cousin. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Um! Well I should tell the whole family to buck up. +Seems to me, from what you tell me, that their master is bringing them +home a treasure. [_He shakes hands briskly with the ladies_.] May look +in again to-morrow. Don’t forget—one page Marcus Aurelius before +breakfast—in case of need. [_He goes out_.] + +_The sun has sunk_. _The light is twilight_. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. He always cheers one up. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. He’s so alive. [_Mrs. Bennet comes in from +the dressing-room_. _She leaves the door ajar_. _The sound of a hammer +is heard_. _It ceases almost immediately_.] Oh, Mrs. Bennet, we were +going to ask you—who is to be her ladyship’s maid? Have you decided yet? + +MRS. BENNET. I have come to the conclusion—looking at the thing from +every point of view—that Jane would be the best selection. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Jane! + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. But does she understand the duties? + +MRS. BENNET. A lady’s maid, being so much alone with her mistress, is +bound to have a certain amount of influence. And Jane has exceptionally +high principles. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. That is true, dear. + +MRS. BENNET. As regards the duties, she is very quick at learning +anything new. Of course, at first— + +_The sound of hammering again comes from the bedroom_. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Who is that hammering in her ladyship’s +bedroom? + +MRS. BENNET. It is Bennet, Miss Edith. We thought it might be helpful: +a few texts, hung where they would always catch her ladyship’s eye. +[_She notices the look of doubt_.] Nothing offensive. Mere general +exhortations such as could be read by any lady. [_The Misses Wetherell +look at one another_, _but do not speak_.] I take it, dinner will be at +half past seven, as usual? + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Yes, Mrs. Bennet, thank you. They will not be +here till about nine. They will probably prefer a little supper to +themselves. + +_Mrs. Bennet goes out—on her way to the kitchen_. _The Misses Wetherell +look at one another again_. _The hammering recommences_. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL [_she hesitates a moment_, _then goes to the +open door and calls_]. Bennet—Bennet! [_She returns and waits_. +_Bennet comes in_.] Oh, Bennet, your wife tells us you are putting up a +few texts in her ladyship’s bedroom. + +BENNET. It seemed to me that a silent voice, speaking to her, as it +were, from the wall— + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. It is so good of you—only, you—you will be +careful there is nothing she could regard as a _personal_ allusion. + +BENNET. Many of the most popular I was compelled to reject, purely for +that reason. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. We felt sure we could trust to your +discretion. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. You see, coming, as she does, from a good +family— + +BENNET. It is that—I speak merely for myself—that gives me hope of +reclaiming her. + +_A silence_. _The two ladies_, _feeling a little helpless_, _again look +at one another_. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. We must be very sympathetic. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. And patient, Bennet. + +BENNET. It is what I am preparing myself to be. Of course, if you think +them inadvisable, I can take them down again. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. No, Bennet, oh no! I should leave them up. +Very thoughtful of you, indeed. + +BENNET. It seemed to me one ought to leave no stone unturned. [_He +returns to his labours in the bedroom_.] + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL [_after a pause_]. I do hope she’ll _like_ +the Bennets. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. I think she will—after a time, when she is +used to them. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. I am so anxious it should turn out well. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. I feel sure she’s a good woman. Vernon would +never have fallen in love with her if she hadn’t been good. [_They take +each other’s hand_, _and sit side by side_, _as before_, _upon the +settee_. _The twilight has faded_: _only the faint firelight remains_, +_surrounded by shadows_.] Do you remember, when he was a little mite, +how he loved to play with your hair? [_The younger Miss Wetherell +laughs_.] I always envied you your hair. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. He was so fond of us both. Do you remember +when he was recovering from the measles, his crying for us to bath him +instead of Mrs. Bennet? I have always reproached myself that we refused. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. He was such a big boy for his age. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. I think we might have stretched a point in a +case of illness. + +_The room has grown very dark_. _The door has been softly opened_; +_Vernon and Fanny have entered noiselessly_. _Fanny remains near the +door hidden by a screen_, _Vernon has crept forward_. _At this point the +two ladies become aware that somebody is in the room_. _They are +alarmed_. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Who’s there? + +VERNON. It’s all right, aunt. It’s only I. + +_The two ladies have risen_. _They run forward_, _both take him in their +arms_. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Vernon! + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. My dear boy! + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. But we didn’t expect you— + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. And your wife, dear? + +VERNON. She’s here! + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Here? + +_Fanny_, _from behind the screen_, _laughs_. + +VERNON. We’ll have some light. [_He whispers to them_.] Not a +word—haven’t told her yet. [_Feeling his way to the wall_, _he turns on +the electric light_.] + +_Fanny is revealed_, _having slipped out from behind the screen_. _There +is a pause_. _Vernon_, _standing near the fire_, _watches admiringly_. + +FANNY. Hope you are going to like me. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. My dear, I am sure we shall. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. It is so easy to love the young and pretty. +[_They have drawn close to her_. _They seem to hesitate_.] + +FANNY [_laughs_]. It doesn’t come off, does it, Vernon, dear? [_Vernon +laughs_. _The two ladies_, _laughing_, _kiss her_.] I’m so glad you +think I’m pretty. As a matter of fact, I’m not. There’s a certain charm +about me, I admit. It deceives people. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. We were afraid—you know, dear, boys—[_she +looks at Vernon and smiles_] sometimes fall in love with women much older +than themselves—especially women—[_She grows confused_. _She takes the +girl’s hand_.] We are so relieved that you—that you are yourself, dear, + +FANNY. You were quite right, dear. They are sweet. Which is which? + +VERNON [_laughs_]. Upon my word, I never can tell. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Vernon! And you know I was always your +favourite! + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Dear! + +VERNON. Then this is Aunt Alice. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. No dear, Edith. + +[_Vernon throws up his hands in despair_. _They all laugh_.] + +FANNY. I think I shall dress you differently; put you in blue and you in +pink. [_She laughs_.] Is this the drawing-room? + +VERNON. Your room, dear. + +FANNY. I like a room where one can stretch one’s legs. [_She walks +across it_.] A little too much desk [_referring to a massive brass-bound +desk_, _facing the three windows_]. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. It belonged to the elder Pitt. + +FANNY. Um! Suppose we must find a corner for it somewhere. That’s a +good picture. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. It is by Hoppner. + +FANNY. One of your artist friends? + +VERNON. Well—you see, dear, that’s a portrait of my great-grandmother, +painted from life. + +FANNY [_she whistles_]. I am awfully ignorant on some topics. One good +thing, I always was a quick study. Not a bad-looking woman. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. We are very proud of her. She was the first— + +VERNON [_hastily_]. We will have her history some other time. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL [_who understands_, _signs to her sister_]. +Of course. She’s tired. We are forgetting everything. You will have +some tea, won’t you, dear? + +FANNY. No, thanks. We had tea in the train. [_With the more or less +helpful assistance of Vernon she divests herself of her outdoor +garments_.] + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL [_she holds up her hands in astonishment_]. Tea +in the train! + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. We were not expecting you so soon. You said +in your telegram— + +VERNON. Oh, it was raining in London. We thought we would come straight +on—leave our shopping for another day. + +FANNY. I believe you were glad it was raining. Saved you such a lot of +money. Old Stingy! + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Then did you walk from the station, dear? + +FANNY. Didn’t it seem a long way? [_She laughs up into his face_.] He +was so bored. [_Vernon laughs_.] + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. I had better tell—[_She is going towards the +bell_.] + +VERNON [_he stops her_]. Oh, let them alone. Plenty of time for all +that fuss. [_He puts them both gently side by side on the settee_.] Sit +down and talk. Haven’t I been clever? [_He puts his arm round Fanny_, +_laughing_.] You thought I had made an ass of myself, didn’t you? Did +you get all my letters? + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. I think so, dear. + +FANNY [_she is sitting in an easy-chair_. _Vernon seats himself on the +arm_]. Do you know I’ve never had a love-letter from you? + +VERNON. You gave me no time. She met me a month ago, and married me +last week. + +FANNY. It was quick work. He came—he saw—I conquered! [_Laughs_.] + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. They say that love at first sight is often the +most lasting. + +VERNON [_he puts his arm around her_]. You are sure you will never +regret having given up the stage? The excitement, the— + +FANNY. The excitement! Do you know what an actress’s life always seemed +to me like? Dancing on a tight-rope with everybody throwing stones at +you. One soon gets tired of that sort of excitement. Oh, I was never in +love with the stage. Had to do something for a living. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. It must be a hard life for a woman. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Especially for anyone not brought up to it. + +FANNY. You see, I had a good voice and what I suppose you might call a +natural talent for acting. It seemed the easiest thing. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. I suppose your family were very much opposed +to it? [_Vernon rises_. _He stands with his back to the fire_.] + +FANNY. My family? Hadn’t any! + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. No family? + +_Bennet enters_. _Vernon and Fanny left the door open_. _He halts_, +_framed by the doorway_. + +FANNY. No. You see, I was an only child. My father and mother both +died before I was fourteen. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. But your uncle? + +FANNY. Oh, him! It was to get away from him and all that crew that I +went on the stage. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. It is so sad when relations don’t get on +together. + +FANNY. Sadder still when they think they’ve got a right to trample on +you, just because you happen to be an orphan and—I don’t want to talk +about my relations. I want to forget them. I stood them for nearly six +months. I don’t want to be reminded of them. I want to forget that they +ever existed. I want to forget— + +_Bennet has come down very quietly_. _Fanny_, _from where he stands_, +_is the only one who sees him_. _He stands looking at her_, _his +features_, _as ever_, _immovable_. _At sight of him her eyes and mouth +open wider and wider_. _The words die away from her tongue_. _Vernon +has turned away to put a log on the fire_, _and so has not seen her +expression—only hears her sudden silence_. _He looks up and sees +Bennet_. + +VERNON. Ah, Bennet! [_He advances_, _holding out his hand_.] You quite +well? + +BENNET [_shaking hands with him_]. Quite well. + +VERNON. Good! And all the family? + +BENNET. Nothing to complain of. Charles has had a touch of influenza. + +VERNON. Ah, sorry to hear that. + +BENNET. And your lordship? + +VERNON. Fit as a fiddle—your new mistress. + +_Fanny has risen_. _Bennet turns to her_. _For a moment his back is +towards the other three_. _Fanny alone sees his face_. + +BENNET. We shall endeavour to do our duty to her ladyship. [_He turns +to Vernon_.] I had arranged for a more fitting reception— + +VERNON. To tell the honest truth, Bennet, the very thing we were afraid +of—why we walked from the station, and slipped in by the side door. +[_Laughing_.] Has the luggage come? + +BENNET. It has just arrived. It was about that I came to ask. I could +not understand— + +_The Misses Wetherell have also risen_. _Fanny’s speechless amazement is +attributed by them and Vernon to natural astonishment at discovery of his +rank_. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. You will be wanting a quiet talk together. +We shall see you at dinner. + +VERNON. What time is dinner? + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Half past seven. [_To Fanny_] But don’t +you hurry, dear. I will tell cook to delay it a little. [_She kisses +her_.] + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. You will want some time to arrange that pretty +hair of yours. [_She also kisses the passive_, _speechless Fanny_. +_They go out hand in hand_.] + +BENNET. I will see, while I am here, that your lordship’s room is in +order. + +VERNON. Why, where’s Robert, then? + +BENNET. He has gone into town to do some shopping. We did not expect +your lordship much before nine. There may be one or two things to see +to. [_He goes into his lordship’s apartments_, _closing the door behind +him_.] + +FANNY. Vernon, where am I? + +VERNON. At home, dear. + +FANNY. Yes, but where? + +VERNON. At Bantock Hall, Rutlandshire. [_Fanny sits down on the +settee—drops down rather_.] You’re not angry with me? You know how the +world always talks in these cases. I wanted to be able to prove to them +all that you married me for myself. Not because I was Lord Bantock. Can +you forgive me? + +FANNY [_she still seems in a dream_]. Yes—of course. You didn’t—you +wouldn’t—[_She suddenly springs up_.] Vernon, you do love me? [_She +flings her arms round his neck_.] + +VERNON. Dear! + +FANNY. You will never be ashamed of me? + +VERNON. Dearest! + +FANNY. I was only a music-hall singer. There’s no getting over it, you +know. + +VERNON. I should have loved you had you been a beggar-maid. + +FANNY [_she still clings to him_]. With an uncle a costermonger, and an +aunt who sold matches. It wouldn’t have made any difference to you, +would it? You didn’t marry me for my family, did you? You didn’t, did +you? + +VERNON. Darling! I married you because you are the most fascinating, +the most lovable, the most wonderful little woman in the world. [_Fanny +gives a sob_.] As for your family—I’ve got a confession to make to you, +dear. I made inquiries about your family before I proposed to you. Not +for my own sake—because I knew I’d have to answer a lot of stupid +questions. It seemed to me quite a good family. + +FANNY. It is! Oh, it is! There never was such a respectable family. +That’s why I never could get on with them. + +VERNON [_laughing_]. Well, you haven’t got to—any more. We needn’t even +let them know— + +_Bennet returns_. + +BENNET. Robert I find has returned. It is ten minutes to seven. + +VERNON. Thanks. Well, I shall be glad of a bath. [_He turns to +Fanny_.] Bennet will send your maid to you. [_He whispers to her_.] +You’ll soon get used to it all. As for the confounded family—we will +forget all about them. [_Fanny answers with another little stifled sob_. +_Bennet is drawing the curtains_, _his back to the room_. _Vernon_, +_seeing that Bennet is occupied_, _kisses the unresponsive Fanny and goes +out_.] + +_At the sound of the closing of the door_, _Fanny looks up_. _She goes +to the door through which Vernon has just passed_, _listens a moment_, +_then returns_. _Bennet calmly finishes the drawing of the curtains_. +_Then he_, _too_, _crosses slowly till he and Fanny are facing one +another across the centre of the room_. + +FANNY. Well, what are you going to do? + +BENNET. My duty! + +FANNY. What’s that? Something unpleasant, I know. I can bet my bottom +dollar. + +BENNET. That, my girl, will depend upon you. + +FANNY. How upon me? + +BENNET. Whether you prove an easy or a difficult subject. To fit you +for your position, a certain amount of training will, I fancy, be +necessary. + +FANNY. Training! I’m to be—[_She draws herself up_.] Are you aware who +I am? + +BENNET. Oh yes. _And_ who you were. His lordship, I take it, would +hardly relish the discovery that he had married his butler’s niece. He +might consider the situation awkward. + +FANNY. And who’s going to train me? + +BENNET. I am. With the assistance of your aunt and such other members +of your family as I consider can be trusted. + +FANNY [_for a moment she is speechless_, _then she bursts out_]. That +ends it! I shall tell him! I shall tell him this very moment. [_She +sweeps towards the door_.] + +BENNET. At this moment you will most likely find his lordship in his +bath. + +FANNY. I don’t care! Do you think—do you think for a moment that I’m +going to allow myself—I, Lady Bantock, to be—[_Her hand upon the door_.] +I shall tell him, and you’ll only have yourself to blame. He loves me. +He loves me for myself. I shall tell him the whole truth, and ask him to +give you all the sack. + +BENNET. You’re not forgetting that you’ve already told him _once_ who +you were? + +[_It stops her_. _What she really did was to leave the marriage +arrangements in the hands of her business manager_, _George P. Newte_. +_As agent for a music-hall star_, _he is ideal_, _but it is possible that +in answering Lord Bantock’s inquiries concerning Fanny’s antecedents he +may not have kept strictly to the truth_.] + +FANNY. I never did. I’ve never told him anything about my family. + +BENNET. Curious. I was given to understand it was rather a classy +affair. + +FANNY. I can’t help what other people may have done. Because some silly +idiot of a man may possibly—[_She will try a new tack_. _She leaves the +door and comes to him_.] Uncle, dear, wouldn’t it be simpler for you all +to go away? He’s awfully fond of me. He’ll do anything I ask him. I +could merely say that I didn’t like you and get him to pension you off. +You and aunt could have a little roadside inn somewhere—with ivy. + +BENNET. Seeing that together with the stables and the garden there are +twenty-three of us— + +FANNY. No, of course, he couldn’t pension you all. You couldn’t expect— + +BENNET. I think his lordship might prefer to leave things as they are. +Good servants nowadays are not so easily replaced. And neither your aunt +nor I are at an age when change appeals to one. + +FANNY. You see, it’s almost bound to creep out sooner or later, and +then— + +BENNET. We will make it as late as possible [_He crosses and rings the +bell_], giving you time to prove to his lordship that you are not +incapable of learning. + +FANNY [_she drops back on the settee_. _She is half-crying_.] Some +people would be pleased that their niece had married well. + +BENNET. I am old-fashioned enough to think also of my duty to those I +serve. If his lordship has done me the honour to marry my niece, the +least I can is to see to it that she brings no discredit to his name. +[_Mrs. Bennet_, _followed by Jane Bennet_, _a severe-looking woman of +middle age_, _has entered upon the words_ “_the least I can do_.” +_Bennet stays them a moment with his hand while he finishes_. _Then he +turns to his wife_.] You will be interested to find, Susannah, that the +new Lady Bantock is not a stranger. + +MRS. BENNET. Not a stranger! [_She has reached a position from where +she sees the girl_.] Fanny! You wicked girl! Where have you been all +these years? + +BENNET [_interposing_]. There will be other opportunities for the +discussion of family differences. Just now, her ladyship is waiting to +dress for dinner. + +MRS. BENNET [_sneering_]. Her ladyship! + +JANE [_also sneering_]. I think she might have forewarned us of the +honour in store for us. + +MRS. BENNET. Yes, why didn’t she write? + +FANNY. Because I didn’t know. Do you think—[_she rises_]—that if I had +I would ever have married him—to be brought back here and put in this +ridiculous position? Do you think that I am so fond of you all that I +couldn’t keep away from you, at any price? + +MRS. BENNET. But you must have known that Lord Bantock— + +FANNY. I didn’t know he was Lord Bantock. I only knew him as Mr. +Wetherell, an artist. He wanted to feel sure that I was marrying him for +himself alone. He never told me—[_Ernest Bennet_, _a very young +footman_, _has entered in answer to Bennet’s ring of a minute ago_. _He +has come forward step by step_, _staring all the while open-mouthed at +Fanny_. _Turning_, _she sees him beside her_.] Hulloa, Ernie. How are +the rabbits? [_She kisses him_.] + +BENNET. Don’t stand there gaping. I rang for some wood. Tell your +brother dinner will be at a quarter to eight. + +_Ernest_, _never speaking_, _still staring at Fanny_, _gets clumsily out +again_. + +FANNY. Well, I suppose I’d better see about dressing? Do I dine with +his lordship or in the servants’ hall? + +MRS. BENNET [_turns to her husband_]. You see! Still the old +impertinence. + +FANNY. Only wanted to know. My only desire is to give satisfaction. + +BENNET [_he moves towards the door_]. You will do it by treating the +matter more seriously. At dinner, by keeping your eye upon me, you will +be able to tell whether you are behaving yourself or not. + +MRS. BENNET. And mind you are punctual. I have appointed Jane to be +your maid. + +FANNY. Jane! + +MRS. BENNET [_in arms_]. Have you any objections? + +FANNY. No, oh no, so long as you’re all satisfied. + +MRS. BENNET. Remember, you are no longer on the music-hall stage. In +dressing for Bantock Hall you will do well to follow her advice. + +_Bennet_, _who has been waiting with the door in his hand_, _goes out_; +_Mrs. Bennet follows_. + +JANE [_in the tones of a patient executioner_]. Are you ready? + +FANNY. Quite ready, dear. Of course—I don’t know what you will think of +them—but I’ve only brought modern costumes with me. + +JANE [_not a lady who understands satire_]. We must do the best we can. +[_She marches out—into the dressing-room_.] + +_Fanny_, _after following a few steps_, _stops and thinks_. _Ernest has +entered with the wood_. _He is piling it in the basket by the fire_. +_His entrance decides her_. _She glances through the open door of the +dressing-room_, _then flies across to the desk_, _seats herself_, _and +begins feverishly to write a telegram_. + +FANNY. Ernie! [_He comes across to her_.] Have you still got your +bicycle? + +ERNEST. Yes. + +FANNY. Could you get this telegram off for me before eight o’clock? I +don’t want it sent from the village; I want you to take it +_yourself_—into the town. There’s a sovereign for you if you do it all +right. + +ERNEST. I’ll do it. Can only get into a row. + +FANNY. Pretty used to them, ain’t you? [_She has risen_. _She gives +him the telegram_. _She has stamped it_.] Can you read it? + +ERNEST. “George P. Newte.” + +FANNY. Hush! + +_They both glance at the open door_. + +ERNEST [_he continues in a lower voice_]. “72A, Waterloo Bridge Road, +London. Must see you at once. Am at the new shop.” [_He looks up_.] + +FANNY. That’s all right. + +ERNEST. “Come down. Q.T. Fanny.” + +FANNY [_nods_]. Get off quietly. I’ll see you again— + +THE VOICE OF JANE [_from the dressing-room_]. Are you going to keep me +waiting all night? + +[_They start_. _Ernest hastily thrusts the telegram into his +breast-pocket_.] + +FANNY. Coming, dear, coming. [_To Ernest_] Not a word to anyone! +[_She hurries him out and closes door behind him_.] Merely been putting +the room a bit tidy. [_She is flying round collecting her outdoor +garments_.] Thought it would please you. So sorry if I’ve kept you +waiting. [_Jane has appeared at door_.] After you, dear. + +_Jane goes out again_. _Fanny_, _with her pile of luggage_, _follows_. + + [CURTAIN] + + + + +_ACT II_ + + + _SCENE_ + +_The same_. + +_Time_.—_The next morning_. + +_The door opens_. _Dr. Freemantle enters_, _shown in by Bennet_, _who +follows him_. + +DR. FREEMANTLE [_talking as he enters_]. Wonderful! Wonderful! I don’t +really think I ever remember so fine a spring. + +BENNET [_he is making up the fire_]. I’m afraid we shall have to pay for +it later on. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. I expect so. Law of the universe, you know, Bennet—law +of the universe. Everything in this world has got to be paid for. + +BENNET. Except trouble. [_The doctor laughs_.] The Times? [_He hands +it to him_.] + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Thanks. Thanks. [_Seats himself_.] Won’t be long—his +lordship, will he? + +BENNET. I don’t think so. I told him you would be here about eleven. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Um—what do you think of her? + +BENNET. Of—of her ladyship? + +DR. FREEMANTLE. What’s she like? + +BENNET. [_They have sunk their voices_.] Well, it might have been +worse. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Ah! There’s always that consolation, isn’t there? + +BENNET. I think her ladyship—with _management_—may turn out very +satisfactory. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. You like her? + +BENNET. At present, I must say for her, she appears willing to be +taught. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. And you think it will last? + +BENNET. I think her ladyship appreciates the peculiarity of her +position. I will tell the Miss Wetherells you are here. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Ah, thanks! + +BENNET. I fancy her ladyship will not herself be visible much before +lunch time. I understand she woke this morning with a headache. [_He +goes out_.] + +_The Doctor reads a moment_. _Then the door of the dressing-room opens_, +_and Fanny enters_. _Her dress is a wonderful contrast to her costume of +last evening_. _It might be that of a poor and demure nursery +governess_. _Her hair is dressed in keeping_. _She hardly seems the +same woman_. + +FANNY [_seeing the Doctor_, _she pauses_]. Oh! + +DR. FREEMANTLE [_rises_]. I beg pardon, have I the pleasure of seeing +Lady Bantock? + +FANNY. Yes. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Delighted. May I introduce myself—Dr. Freemantle? I +helped your husband into the world. + +FANNY. Yes. I’ve heard of you. You don’t mind my closing this door, do +you? [_Her very voice and manner are changed_.] + +DR. FREEMANTLE [_a little puzzled_]. Not at all. + +FANNY [_she closes the door and returns_]. Won’t—won’t you be seated? + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Thanks. [_They both sit_.] How’s the headache? + +FANNY. Oh, it’s better. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Ah! [_A silence_.] Forgive me—I’m an old friend of the +family. You’re not a bit what I expected. + +FANNY. But you like it? I mean you think this—[_with a gesture_]—is all +right? + +DR. FREEMANTLE. My dear young lady, it’s charming. You couldn’t be +anything else. + +FANNY. Thank you. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. I merely meant that—well, I was not expecting anything +so delightfully demure. + +FANNY. That’s the idea—“seemly.” The Lady Bantocks have always been +“seemly”? [_She puts it as a question_.] + +DR. FREEMANTLE [_more and more puzzled_]. Yes—oh, yes. They have always +been—[_His eye catches that of Constance_, _first Lady Bantock_, _looking +down at him from above the chimney-piece_. _His tone changes_.] Well, +yes, in their way, you know. + +FANNY. You see, I’m in the difficult position of following her _late_ +ladyship. _She_ appears to have been exceptionally “seemly.” This is +her frock. I mean it _was_ her frock. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. God bless my soul! You are not dressing yourself up in +her late ladyship’s clothes? The dear good woman has been dead and +buried these twenty years. + +FANNY [_she looks at her dress_]. Yes, it struck me as being about that +period. + +DR. FREEMANTLE [_he goes across to her_]. What’s the trouble? Too much +Bennet? + +FANNY [_she looks up_. _There is a suspicion of a smile_]. One might +say—sufficient? + +DR. FREEMANTLE [_laughs_]. Excellent servants. If they’d only remember +it. [_He glances round—sinks his voice_.] Take my advice. Put your +foot down—before it’s too late. + +FANNY. Sit down, please. [_She makes room for him on the settee_.] +Because I’m going to be confidential. You don’t mind, do you? + +DR. FREEMANTLE [_seating himself_]. My dear, I take it as the greatest +compliment I have had paid to me for years. + +FANNY. You put everything so nicely. I’m two persons. I’m an +angel—perhaps that is too strong a word? + +DR. FREEMANTLE [_doubtfully_]. Well— + +FANNY. We’ll say saint. Or else I’m—the other thing. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Do you know, I think you could be. + +FANNY. It’s not a question about which there is any doubt. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Of course, in this case, a _little_ bit of the devil— + +FANNY [_she shakes her head_]. There’s such a lot of mine. It has +always hampered me, never being able to hit the happy medium. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. It _is_ awkward. + +FANNY. I thought I would go on being an angel— + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Saint. + +FANNY. Saint—till—well, till it became physically impossible to be a +saint any longer. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. And then? + +FANNY [_she rises_, _turns to him with a gesture of half-comic_, +_half-tragic despair_]. Well, then I can’t help it, can I? + +DR. FREEMANTLE. I think you’re making a mistake. An explosion will +undoubtedly have to take place. That being so, the sooner it takes place +the better. [_He rises_.] What are you afraid of? + +FANNY [_she changes her tone—the talk becomes serious_]. You’ve known +Vernon all his life? + +DR. FREEMANTLE. No one better. + +FANNY. Tell me. I’ve known him only as a lover. What sort of a man is +he? + +_A pause_. _They are looking straight into each other’s eyes_. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. A man it pays to be perfectly frank with. + +FANNY. It’s a very old family, isn’t it? + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Old! Good Lord no! First Lord Bantock was only +Vernon’s great-grandfather. That is the woman that did it all. [_He is +looking at the Hoppner_.] + +FANNY. How do you mean? + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Got them their title. Made the name of Bantock of +importance in the history of the Georges. Clever woman. + +FANNY [_leaning over a chair_, _she is staring into the eyes of the first +Lady Bantock_]. I wonder what she would have done if she had ever got +herself into a really first-class muddle? + +DR. FREEMANTLE. One thing’s certain. [_Fanny turns to him_.] She’d +have got out of it. + +FANNY [_addresses the portrait_]. I do wish you could talk. + +_Vernon bursts into the room_. _He has been riding_. _He throws aside +his hat and stick_. + +VERNON. Hulloa! This is good of you. [_He shakes hands with the +Doctor_.] How are you? [_Without waiting for any reply_, _he goes to +Fanny_, _kisses her_.] Good morning, dear. How have you been getting on +together, you two? Has she been talking to you? + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Oh, yes. + +VERNON. Doesn’t she talk well? I say, what have you been doing to +yourself? + +FANNY. Jane thought this style—[_with a gesture_]—more appropriate to +Lady Bantock. + +VERNON. Um! Wonder if she’s right? [_To the Doctor_] What do you +think? + +DR. FREEMANTLE. I think it a question solely for Lady Bantock. + +VERNON. Of course it is. [_To Fanny_] You know, you mustn’t let them +dictate to you. Dear, good, faithful souls, all of them. But they must +understand that you are mistress. + +FANNY [_she seizes eagerly at the chance_]. You might mention it to +them, dear. It would come so much better from you. + +VERNON. No, you. They will take more notice of you. + +FANNY. I’d so much rather you did it. [_To Dr. Freemantle_] Don’t you +think it would come better from him? + +DR. FREEMANTLE [_laughs_]. I’m afraid you’ll have to do it yourself. + +VERNON. You see, dear, it might hurt them, coming from me. It would +seem like ingratitude. Mrs. Bennet—Why, it wasn’t till I began to ask +questions that I grasped the fact that she _wasn’t_ my real mother. As +for old Bennet, ever since my father died—well, I hardly know how I could +have got on without him. It was Charles Bennet that taught me to ride; I +learned my letters sitting on Jane’s lap. + +FANNY. Yes. Perhaps I had better do it myself. + +VERNON. I’m sure it will be more effective. Of course I shall support +you. + +FANNY. Thank you. Oh, by the by, dear, I shan’t be able to go with you +to-day. + +VERNON. Why not? + +FANNY. I’ve rather a headache. + +VERNON. Oh, I’m so sorry. Oh, all right, we’ll stop at home. I’m not +so very keen about it. + +FANNY. No, I want you to go, dear. Your aunts are looking forward to +it. I shall get over it all the sooner with everybody out of the way. + +VERNON. Well, if you really wish it. + +_The Misses Wetherell steal in_. _They are dressed for driving_. _They +exchange greetings with the Doctor_. + +FANNY. You know you promised to obey. [_Tickles his nose with a +flower_.] + +VERNON [_laughing—to the Doctor_]. You see what it is to be married? + +DR. FREEMANTLE [_laughs_]. Very trying. + +VERNON [_turning to his aunts_]. Fanny isn’t coming with us. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL [_to Fanny_]. Oh, my dear! + +FANNY. It’s only a headache. [_She takes her aside_.] I’m rather glad +of it. I want an excuse for a little time to myself. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. I understand, dear. It’s all been so +sudden. [_She kisses her—then to the room_] She’ll be all the better +alone. We three will go on. [_She nods and signs to her sister_.] + +FANNY [_kissing the Elder Miss Wetherell_]. Don’t you get betting. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Oh no, dear, we never do. It’s just to see +the dear horses. [_She joins her sister_. _They whisper_.] + +VERNON [_to the Doctor to whom he has been talking_]. Can we give you a +lift? + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Well, you might as far as the Vicarage. Good-bye, Lady +Bantock. + +FANNY [_shaking hands_]. Good-bye, Doctor. + +VERNON. Sure you won’t be lonely? + +FANNY [_laughs_]. Think I can’t exist an hour without you? Mr. +Conceited! + +VERNON [_laughs and kisses her_]. Come along. [_He takes the Doctor and +his younger Aunt towards the door_.] + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL [_who is following last_]. I like you in that +frock. + +FANNY [_laughs_]. So glad. It’s Ernest who attends to the fires, isn’t +it? + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Yes, dear. + +FANNY. I wish you’d send him up. [_At door—calls after them_] Hope +you’ll all enjoy yourselves! + +VERNON [_from the distance_]. I shall put you on a fiver. + +FANNY. Mind it wins. [_She listens a moment—closes door_, _comes back +to desk_, _and takes a Bradshaw_.] Five-six-three—five-six-three. +[_Finds page_.] St. Pancras, eight o’clock. Oh, Lord! Stamford, 10.45. +Leave Stamford—[_Ernest has entered_.] Is that you, Ernest? + +ERNEST. Yes. + +FANNY. Shut the door. Sure it went off last night, that telegram? + +ERNEST. Yes. + +FANNY. If he doesn’t catch that eight o’clock, he can’t get here till +nearly four. That will be awkward. [_To Ernest_] What time is it now? + +ERNEST [_looks at clock_]. Twenty past eleven. + +FANNY. If he does, he’ll be here about twelve—I believe I’ll go and meet +him. Could I get out without being seen? + +ERNEST. You’ll have to pass the lodge. + +FANNY. Who’s at the lodge now? + +ERNEST. Mother. + +FANNY. Damn! + +_Bennet has entered unnoticed and drawn near_. _At this point from +behind_, _he boxes Ernest’s ears_. + +ERNEST. Here, steady! + +BENNET. On the occasions when your cousin forgets her position, you will +remember it and remind her of it. Get out! [_Ernest_, _clumsily as +ever_, “_gets out_.”] A sort of person has called who, according to his +own account, “happened to be passing this way,” and would like to see +you. + +FANNY [_who has been trying to hide the Bradshaw—with affected +surprise_.] To see me! + +BENNET [_drily_]. Yes. I thought you would be surprised. He claims to +be an old friend of yours—Mr. George Newte. + +FANNY [_still keeping it up_]. George Newte! Of course—ah, yes. Do you +mind showing him up? + +BENNET. I thought I would let you know he had arrived, in case you might +be getting anxious about him. I propose giving him a glass of beer and +sending him away again. + +FANNY [_flares up_]. Look here, uncle, you and I have got to understand +one another. I may put up with being bullied myself—if I can’t see any +help for it—but I’m not going to stand my friends being insulted. You +show Mr. Newte up here. + +_A silence_. + +BENNET. I shall deem it my duty to inform his lordship of Mr. Newte’s +visit. + +FANNY. There will be no need to. Mr. Newte, if his arrangements permit, +will be staying to dinner. + +BENNET. That, we shall see about. [_He goes out_.] + +FANNY [_following him to door_]. And tell them I shall want the best +bedroom got ready in case Mr. Newte is able to stay the night. I’ve done +it. [_She goes to piano_, _dashes into the_ “_Merry Widow Waltz_,” _or +some other equally inappropriate but well-known melody_, _and then there +enters Newte_, _shown in by Bennet_. _Newte is a cheerful person_, +_attractively dressed in clothes suggestive of a successful bookmaker_. +_He carries a white pot hat and tasselled cane_. _His gloves are large +and bright_. _He is smoking an enormous cigar_.] + +BENNET. Mr. Newte. + +FANNY [_she springs up and greets him_. _They are evidently good +friends_]. Hulloa, George! + +NEWTE. Hulloa, Fan—I beg your pardon, Lady Bantock. [_Laughs_.] Was +just passing this way— + +FANNY [_cutting him short_]. Yes. So nice of you to call. + +NEWTE. I said to myself—[_His eye catches Bennet_; _he stops_.] Ah, +thanks. [_He gives Bennet his hat and stick_, _but Bennet does not seem +satisfied_. _He has taken from the table a small china tray_. _This he +is holding out to Newte_, _evidently for Newte to put something in it_. +_But what_? _Newte is puzzled_, _he glances at Fanny_. _The idea +strikes him that perhaps it is a tip Bennet is waiting for_. _It seems +odd_, _but if it be the custom—he puts his hand to his trousers pocket_.] + +BENNET. The smoking-room is on the ground-floor. + +NEWTE. Ah, my cigar. I beg your pardon. I couldn’t understand. [_He +puts it on the tray—breaks into a laugh_.] + +BENNET. Thank you. Her ladyship is suffering from a headache. If I +might suggest—a little less boisterousness. [_He goes out_.] + +NEWTE [_he watches him out_]. I say, your Lord Chamberlain’s a bit of a +freezer! + +FANNY. Yes. Wants hanging out in the sun. How did you manage to get +here so early? [_She sits_.] + +NEWTE. Well, your telegram rather upset me. I thought—correct etiquette +for me to sit down here, do you think? + +FANNY. Don’t ask me. Got enough new tricks of my own to learn. +[_Laughs_.] Should chance it, if I were you. + +NEWTE. Such a long time since I was at Court. [_He sits_.] Yes, I was +up at five o’clock this morning. + +FANNY [_laughs_]. Oh, you poor fellow! + +NEWTE. Caught the first train to Melton, and came on by cart. What’s +the trouble? + +FANNY. A good deal. Why didn’t you tell me what I was marrying? + +NEWTE. I did. I told you that he was a gentleman; that he— + +FANNY. Why didn’t you tell me that he was Lord Bantock? You knew, +didn’t you? + +NEWTE [_begins to see worries ahead_]. Can’t object to my putting a +cigar in my mouth if I don’t light it—can he? + +FANNY. Oh, light it—anything you like that will help you to get along. + +NEWTE [_bites the end off the cigar and puts it between his teeth_. +_This helps him_]. No, I didn’t know—not officially. + +FANNY. What do you mean—“not officially”? + +NEWTE. He never told me. + +FANNY. He never told you _anything_—for the matter of that. I +understood you had found out everything for yourself. + +NEWTE. Yes; and one of the things I found out was that he didn’t _want_ +you to know. I could see his little game. Wanted to play the Lord +Burleigh fake. Well, what was the harm? Didn’t make any difference to +you! + +FANNY. Didn’t make any difference to me! [_Jumps up_.] Do you know +what I’ve done? Married into a family that keeps twenty-three servants, +every blessed one of whom is a near relation of my own. [_He sits +paralysed_. _She goes on_.] That bald-headed old owl—[_with a wave +towards the door_]—that wanted to send you off with a glass of beer and a +flea in your ear—that’s my uncle. The woman that opened the lodge gate +for you is my Aunt Amelia. The carroty-headed young man that answered +the door to you is my cousin Simeon. He always used to insist on kissing +me. I’m expecting him to begin again. My “lady’s” maid is my cousin +Jane. That’s why I’m dressed like this! My own clothes have been packed +off to the local dressmaker to be made “decent.” Meanwhile, they’ve dug +up the family vault to find something for me to go on with. [_He has +been fumbling in all his pockets for matches_. _She snatches a box from +somewhere and flings it to him_.] For Heaven’s sake light it! Then, +perhaps, you’ll be able to do something else than stare. I have claret +and water—mixed—with my dinner. Uncle pours it out for me. They’ve +locked up my cigarettes. Aunt Susannah is coming in to-morrow morning to +hear me say my prayers. Doesn’t trust me by myself. Thinks I’ll skip +them. She’s the housekeeper here. I’ve got to know them by heart before +I go to bed to-night, and now I’ve mislaid them. [_She goes to the +desk—hunts for them_.] + +NEWTE [_having lighted his eternal cigar_, _he can begin to think_]. But +why should _they_— + +FANNY [_still at desk_]. Because they’re that sort. They honestly think +they are doing the right and proper thing—that Providence has put it into +their hands to turn me out a passable substitute for all a Lady Bantock +should be; which, so far as I can understand, is something between the +late lamented Queen Victoria and Goody-Two-Shoes. They are the people +that I ran away from, the people I’ve told you about, the people I’ve +always said I’d rather starve than ever go back to. And here I am, +plumped down in the midst of them again—for life! [_Honoria Bennet_, +_the_ “_still-room_” _maid_, _has entered_. _She is a pert young minx of +about Fanny’s own age_.] What is is? What is it? + +HONORIA. Merely passing through. Sorry to have excited your ladyship. +[_Goes into dressing-room_.] + +FANNY. My cousin Honoria. They’ve sent her up to keep an eye upon me. +Little cat! [_She takes her handkerchief_, _drapes it over the keyhole +of the dressing-room door_.] + +NEWTE [_at sight of Honoria he has jumped up and hastily hidden his cigar +behind him_]. What are you going to do? + +FANNY [_she seats herself and suggests to him the writing-chair_]. Hear +from you—first of all—exactly what you told Vernon. + +NEWTE [_sitting_]. About you? + +FANNY [_nods_]. About me—and my family. + +NEWTE. Well—couldn’t tell him much, of course. Wasn’t much to tell. + +FANNY. I want what you did tell. + +NEWTE. I told him that your late father was a musician. + +FANNY. Yes. + +NEWTE. Had been unfortunate. Didn’t go into particulars. Didn’t seem +to be any need for it. That your mother had died when you were still +only a girl and that you had gone to live with relatives. [_He looks for +approval_.] + +FANNY. Yes. + +NEWTE. That you hadn’t got on well with them—artistic temperament, all +that sort of thing—that, in consequence, you had appealed to your +father’s old theatrical friends; and that they—that they, having regard +to your talent—and beauty— + +FANNY. Thank you. + +NEWTE. Had decided that the best thing you could do was to go upon the +stage. [_He finishes_, _tolerably well pleased with himself_.] + +FANNY. That’s all right. Very good indeed. What else? + +NEWTE [_after an uncomfortable pause_]. Well, that’s about all I knew. + +FANNY. Yes, but what did you _tell_ him? + +NEWTE. Well, of course, I had to tell him something. A man doesn’t +marry without knowing just a little about his wife’s connections. +Wouldn’t be reasonable to expect him. You’d never told me anything—never +would; except that you’d liked to have boiled the lot. What was I to do? +[_He is playing with a quill pen he has picked up_.] + +FANNY [_she takes it from him_]. What _did_ you do? + +NEWTE [_with fine frankness_]. I did the best I could for you, old girl, +and he was very nice about it. Said it was better than he’d expected, +and that I’d made him very happy—very happy indeed. + +FANNY [_she leans across_, _puts her hand on his_]. You’re a dear, good +fellow, George—always have been. I wouldn’t plague you only it is +absolutely necessary I should know—exactly what you did tell him. + +NEWTE [_a little sulkily_]. I told him that your uncle was a bishop. + +FANNY [_sits back—staring at him_]. A what? + +NEWTE. A bishop. Bishop of Waiapu, New Zealand. + +FANNY. Why New Zealand? + +NEWTE. Why not? Had to be somewhere. Didn’t want him Archbishop of +Canterbury, did you? + +FANNY. Did he believe it? + +NEWTE. Shouldn’t have told him had there been any fear that he wouldn’t. + +FANNY. I see. Any other swell relations of mine knocking about? + +NEWTE. One—a judge of the Supreme Court in Ohio. Same name, anyhow, +O’Gorman. Thought I’d make him a cousin of yours. I’ve always +remembered him. Met him when I was over there in ninety-eight—damn him! + +_A silence_. + +FANNY [_she rises_]. Well, nothing else for it! Got to tell him it was +all a pack of lies. Not blaming you, old boy—my fault. Didn’t know he +was going to ask any questions, or I’d have told him myself. Bit of bad +luck, that’s all. + +NEWTE. Why must you tell him? Only upset him. + +FANNY. It’s either my telling him or leaving it for them to do. You +know me, George. How long do you see me being bossed and bullied by my +own servants? Besides, it’s bound to come out in any case. + +NEWTE [_he rises_. _Kindly but firmly he puts her back into her chair_. +_Then pacing to and fro with his hands mostly in his trousers pockets_, +_he talks_]. Now, you listen to me, old girl. I’ve been your business +manager ever since you started in. I’ve never made a mistake before—[_he +turns and faces her_]—and I haven’t made one this time. + +FANNY. I don’t really see the smartness, George, stuffing him up with a +lot of lies he can find out for himself. + +NEWTE. _If he wants to_. A couple of telegrams, one to His Grace the +Bishop of Waiapu, the other to Judge Denis O’Gorman, Columbus, Ohio, +would have brought him back the information that neither gentlemen had +ever heard of you. _If he hadn’t been careful not to send them_. He +wasn’t marrying you with the idea of strengthening his family +connections. He was marrying you because he was just gone on you. +Couldn’t help himself. + +FANNY. In that case, you might just as well have told him the truth. + +NEWTE. _Which he would then have had to pass on to everyone entitled to +ask questions_. Can’t you understand? Somebody, in the interest of +everybody, had to tell a lie. Well, what’s a business manager for? + +FANNY. But I can’t do it, George. You don’t know them. The longer I +give in to them the worse they’ll get. + +NEWTE. Can’t you square them? + +FANNY. No, that’s the trouble. They _are_ honest. They’re the +“faithful retainers” out of a melodrama. They are working eighteen hours +a day on me not for any advantage to themselves, but because they think +it their “duty” to the family. They don’t seem to have any use for +themselves at all. + +NEWTE. Well, what about the boy? Can’t _he_ talk to them? + +FANNY. Vernon! They’ve brought him up from a baby—spanked him all +round, I expect. Might as well ask a boy to talk to his old +schoolmaster. Besides, if he did talk, then it would all come out. As I +tell you, it’s bound to come out—and the sooner the better. + +NEWTE. It must _not_ come out! It’s too late. If we had told him at +the beginning that he was proposing to marry into his own butler’s +family—well, it’s an awkward situation—he might have decided to risk it. +Or he might have cried off. + +FANNY. And a good job if he had. + +NEWTE. Now talk sense. You wanted him—you took a fancy to him from the +beginning. He’s a nice boy, and there’s something owing to him. [_It is +his trump card_, _and he knows it_.] Don’t forget that. He’s been busy, +explaining to all his friends and relations why they should receive you +with open arms: really nice girl, born gentlewoman, good old Church of +England family—no objection possible. For you to spring the truth upon +him _now_—well, it doesn’t seem to me quite fair to _him_. + +FANNY. Then am I to live all my life dressed as a charity girl? + +NEWTE. You keep your head and things will gradually right themselves. +This family of yours—they’ve got _some_ sense, I suppose? + +FANNY. Never noticed any sign of it myself. + +NEWTE. Maybe you’re not a judge. [_Laughs_.] They’ll listen to reason. +You let _me_ have a talk to them, one of these days; see if I can’t show +them—first one and then the other—the advantage of leaving to “better” +themselves—_with the help of a little ready money_. Later on—choosing +your proper time—you can break it to him that you have discovered they’re +distant connections of yours, a younger branch of the family that you’d +forgotten. Give the show time to settle down into a run. Then you can +begin to make changes. + +FANNY. You’ve a wonderful way with you, George. It always sounds right +as you put it—even when one jolly well knows that it isn’t. + +NEWTE. Well, it’s always been right for you, old girl, ain’t it? + +FANNY. Yes. You’ve been a rattling good friend. [_She takes his +hands_.] Almost wish I’d married you instead. We’d have been more +suited to one another. + +NEWTE [_shakes his head_]. Nothing like having your fancy. You’d never +have been happy without him. [_He releases her_.] ’Twas a good +engagement, or I’d never have sanctioned it. + +FANNY. I suppose it will be the last one you will ever get me. [_She +has dropped for a moment into a brown study_.] + +NEWTE [_he turns_]. I hope so. + +FANNY [_she throws off her momentary mood with a laugh_]. Poor fellow! +You never even got your commission. + +NEWTE. I’ll take ten per cent. of all your happiness, old girl. So make +it as much as you can for my benefit. Good-bye. [_He holds out hand_.] + +FANNY. You’re not going? You’ll stop to lunch? + +NEWTE. Not to-day. + +FANNY. Do. If you don’t, they’ll think it’s because I was frightened to +ask you. + +NEWTE. All the better. The more the other party thinks he’s having his +way, the easier always to get your own. Your trouble is, you know, that +you never had any tact. + +FANNY. I hate tact. [_Newte laughs_.] We could have had such a jolly +little lunch together. I’m all alone till the evening. There were ever +so many things I wanted to talk to you about. + +NEWTE. What? + +FANNY. Ah, how can one talk to a man with his watch in his hand? [_He +puts it away and stands waiting_, _but she is cross_.] I think you’re +very disagreeable. + +NEWTE. I must really get back to town. I oughtn’t to be away now, only +your telegram— + +FANNY. I know. I’m an ungrateful little beast! [_She crosses and rings +bell_.] You’ll have a glass of champagne before you go? + +NEWTE. Well, I won’t say no to that. + +FANNY. How are all the girls? + +NEWTE. Oh, chirpy. I’m bringing them over to London. We open at the +Palace next week. + +FANNY. What did they think of my marriage? Gerty was a bit jealous, +wasn’t she? + +NEWTE. Well, would have been, if she’d known who he was. [_Laughs_.] + +FANNY. Tell her. Tell her [_she draws herself up_] I’m Lady Bantock, of +Bantock Hall, Rutlandshire. It will make her so mad. [_Laughs_.] + +NEWTE [_laughs_]. I will. + +FANNY. Give them all my love. [_Ernest appears in answer to her bell_.] +Oh, Ernest, tell Bennet—[_the eyes and mouth of Ernest open_]—to see that +Mr. Newte has some refreshment before he leaves. A glass of champagne +and—and some caviare. Don’t forget. [_Ernest goes out_.] Good-bye. +You’ll come again? + +NEWTE. Whenever you want me—and remember—the watchword is “Tact”! + +FANNY. Yes, I’ve got the _word_ all right. [_Laughs_.] Don’t forget to +give my love to the girls. + +NEWTE. I won’t. So long! [_He goes out_.] + +_Fanny closes the door_. _Honoria has re-entered from the +dressing-room_. _She looks from the handkerchief still hanging over the +keyhole to Fanny_. + +HONORIA. Your ladyship’s handkerchief? + +FANNY. Yes. Such a draught through that keyhole. + +HONORIA [_takes the handkerchief_, _hands it to Fanny_]. I will tell the +housekeeper. + +FANNY. Thanks. Maybe you will also mention it to the butler. Possibly +also to the—[_She suddenly changes_.] Honoria. Suppose it had been +you—you know, you’re awfully pretty—who had married Lord Bantock, and he +had brought you back here, among them all—uncle, aunt, all the lot of +them—what would you have done? + +HONORIA [_she draws herself up_]. I should have made it quite plain from +the first, that I was mistress, and that they were my servants. + +FANNY. You would, you think— + +HONORIA [_checking her outburst_]. But then, dear—you will excuse my +speaking plainly—there is a slight difference between the two cases. +[_She seats herself on the settee_. _Fanny is standing near the desk_.] +You see, what we all feel about you, dear, is—that you are—well, hardly a +fit wife for his lordship. [_Fanny’s hands are itching to box the girl’s +ears_. _To save herself_, _she grinds out through her teeth the word_ +“_Tack_!”] Of course, dear, it isn’t altogether your fault. + +FANNY. Thanks. + +HONORIA. Your mother’s marriage was most unfortunate. + +FANNY [_her efforts to suppress her feelings are just—but only +just—successful_.] Need we discuss that? + +HONORIA. Well, he was an Irishman, dear, there’s no denying it. [_Fanny +takes a cushion from a chair—with her back to Honoria_, _she strangles +it_. _Jane has entered and is listening_.] Still, perhaps it is a +painful subject. And we hope—all of us—that, with time and patience, we +may succeed in eradicating the natural results of your bringing-up. + +JANE. Some families, finding themselves in our position, would seek to +turn it to their own advantage. _We_ think only of your good. + +FANNY. Yes, that’s what I feel—that you are worrying yourselves too much +about me. You’re too conscientious, all of you. You, in particular, +Jane, because you know you’re not strong. _You’ll_ end up with a nervous +breakdown. [_Mrs. Bennet has entered_. _Honoria slips out_. _Fanny +turns to her aunt_.] I was just saying how anxious I’m getting about +Jane. I don’t like the look of her at all. What she wants is a holiday. +Don’t you agree with me? + +MRS. BENNET. There will be no holiday, I fear, for any of us, for many a +long day. + +FANNY. But you must. You must think more of yourselves, you know. +_You’re_ not looking well, aunt, at all. What you both want is a +month—at the seaside. + +MRS. BENNET. Your object is too painfully apparent for the subject to +need discussion. True solicitude for us would express itself better in +greater watchfulness upon your own behaviour. + +FANNY. Why, what have I done? + +_Bennet enters_, _followed_, _unwillingly_, _by Ernest_. + +MRS. BENNET. Your uncle will explain. + +BENNET. Shut that door. [_Ernest does so_. _They group round +Bennet—Ernest a little behind_. _Fanny remains near the desk_.] Sit +down. [_Fanny_, _bewildered_, _speechless_, _sits_.] Carry your mind +back, please, to the moment when, with the Bradshaw in front of you, you +were considering, with the help of your cousin Ernest, the possibility of +your slipping out unobserved, to meet and commune with a person you had +surreptitiously summoned to visit you during your husband’s absence. + +FANNY. While I think of it, did he have anything to eat before he went? +I told Ernest to—ask you to see that he had a glass of champagne and a— + +BENNET [_waves her back into silence_]. Mr. Newte was given refreshment +suitable to his station. [_She goes to interrupt_. _Again he waves her +back_.] We are speaking of more important matters. Your cousin reminded +you that you would have to pass the lodge, occupied by your Aunt Amelia. +I state the case correctly? + +FANNY. Beautifully! + +BENNET. I said nothing at the time, doubting the evidence of my own +ears. The boy, however—where is the boy?—[_Ernest is pushed +forward_]—has admitted—reluctantly—that he also heard it. [_A pause_. +_The solemnity deepens_.] You made use of an expression— + +FANNY. Oh, cut it short. I said “damn.” [_A shudder passes_.] I’m +sorry to have frightened you, but if you knew a little more of really +good society, you would know that ladies—quite slap-up ladies—when +they’re excited, do—. + +MRS. BENNET [_interrupting with almost a scream_]. She defends it! + +BENNET. You will allow _me_ to be the judge of what a _lady_ says, even +when she is excited. As for this man, Newte— + +FANNY. The best friend you ever had. [_She is_ “_up_” _again_.] You +thank your stars, all of you, and tell the others, too, the whole blessed +twenty-three of you—you thank your stars that I did “surreptitiously” beg +and pray him to run down by the first train and have a talk with me; and +that Providence was kind enough to _you_ to enable him to come. It’s a +very different tune you’d have been singing at this moment—all of you—if +he hadn’t. I can tell you that. + +MRS. BENNET. And pray, what tune _should_ we have been singing if +Providence hadn’t been so thoughtful of us? + +FANNY [_she is about to answer_, _then checks herself_, _and sits +again_]. You take care you don’t find out. There’s time yet. + +MRS. BENNET. We had better leave her. + +BENNET. Threats, my good girl, will not help you. + +MRS. BENNET [_with a laugh_]. She’s in too tight a corner for that. + +BENNET. A contrite heart is what your aunt and I desire to see. [_He +takes from his pocket a small book_, _places it open on the desk_.] I +have marked one or two passages, on pages 93–7. We will discuss them +together—later in the day. + +_They troop out in silence_, _the key turns in the lock_. + +FANNY [_takes up the book—turns to the cover_, _reads_]. “The Sinner’s +Manual.” [_She turns to page_ 93.] + + [CURTAIN] + + + + +_ACT III_ + + + _SCENE_ + +_The same_. + +_Time_.—_A few days later_. + +_A table is laid for tea_. _Ernest enters with the tea-urn_. _He leaves +the door open_; _through it comes the sound of an harmonium_, +_accompanying the singing of a hymn_. _Fanny comes from her +dressing-room_. _She is dressed more cheerfully than when we last saw +her_, _but still_ “_seemly_.” _She has a book in her hand_. _She +pauses_, _hearing the music_, _goes nearer to the open door_, _and +listens_; _then crosses and takes her place at the table_. _The music +ceases_. + +FANNY. Another prayer meeting? [_Ernest nods_.] I do keep ’em busy. + +ERNEST. D’ye know what they call you downstairs? + +FANNY. What? + +ERNEST. The family cross. + +FANNY. I’m afraid it’s about right. + +ERNEST. What have you been doing _this_ time? Swearing again? + +FANNY. Worse. I’ve been lying. [_Ernest gives vent to a low whistle_.] +Said I didn’t know what had become of that yellow poplin with the black +lace flounces, that they’ve had altered for me. Found out that I’d given +it to old Mother Potts for the rummage sale at the Vicarage. Jane was +down there. Bought it in for half a crown. + +ERNEST. You are risky. Why, you might have known— + +_Vernon comes in_. _He is in golfing get-up_. _He throws his cap on to +the settee_. + +VERNON. Hello, got a cup of tea there? + +_Ernest goes out_. + +FANNY. Yes. Thought you were playing golf? + +VERNON. Just had a telegram handed to me in the village—from your friend +Newte. Wants me to meet him at Melton Station at five o’clock. [_Looks +at his watch_.] Know what he wants? + +FANNY. Haven’t the faintest idea. [_She hands him his cup_.] Is he +coming _here_? Or merely on his way somewhere? + +VERNON. I don’t know; he doesn’t say. + +FANNY. Don’t let him mix you up in any of his “ventures.” Dear old +George, he’s as honest as the day, but if he gets hold of an “idea” +there’s always thousands in it for everybody. + +VERNON. I’ll be careful. [_Ernest has left the door open_. _The +harmonium breaks forth again_, _together with vocal accompaniment as +before_.] What’s on downstairs, then—a party? + +FANNY. Bennet is holding a prayer meeting. + +VERNON. A prayer meeting? + +FANNY. One of the younger members of the family has been detected +“telling a deliberate lie.” [_Vernon is near the door listening_, _with +his back towards her_, _or he would see that she is smiling_.] Black +sheep, I suppose, to be found in every flock. [_Music ceases_, _Ernest +having arrived with the news of his lordship’s return_.] + +VERNON [_returning to the table_, _having closed the door_]. Good old +man, you know, Bennet. All of them! So high-principled! Don’t often +get servants like that, nowadays. + +FANNY. Seems almost selfish, keeping the whole collection to ourselves. + +VERNON [_laughs_]. ’Pon my word it does. But what can we do? They’ll +never leave us—not one of them. + +FANNY. No, I don’t believe they ever will. + +VERNON. Do you know, I sometimes think that you don’t like them. +[_Fanny makes a movement_.] Of course, they are a bit bossy, I admit. +But all that comes from their devotion, their— + +FANNY. The wonder to me is that, brought up among them, admiring them as +you do, you never thought of marrying one of them. + +VERNON [_staggered_.] Marrying them? + +FANNY. I didn’t say “them.” I said “_one_ of them.” There’s Honoria. +She’s pretty enough, anyhow. So’s Alice, Charles Bennet’s daughter, and +Bertha and Grace—all of them beautiful. And what’s even better +still—good. [_She says it viciously_.] Didn’t you ever think of them? + +VERNON. Well [_laughs_]—well, one hardly marries into one’s own kitchen. + +FANNY. Isn’t that rather snobbish? You say they’re more like friends +than servants. They’ve lived with your people, side by side, for three +generations, doing their duty, honourably. There’s never been a slur +upon their name. They’re “high-principled.” You know it. They’ve +better manners than nine-tenths of your smart society, and they’re +healthy. What’s wrong with them—even from a lord’s point of view? + +VERNON [_recovering himself_]. Well, don’t pitch into me about it. It’s +your fault if I didn’t marry them—I mean one of them. [_He laughs_, +_puts his empty cup back on the table_.] Maybe I’d have thought about +it—if I hadn’t met you. + +FANNY [_takes his hand in hers_]. I wish you hadn’t asked Newte any +questions about me. It would have been so nice to feel that you had +married me—just because you couldn’t help it—just because I was I and +nothing else mattered. + +VERNON. Let’s forget I ever did. [_He kneels beside her_.] I didn’t do +it for my own sake, as you know. A _man_ in my position has to think of +other people. His wife has to take her place in society. People insist +upon knowing something about her. It’s not enough for the stupid +“County” that she’s the cleverest, most bewilderingly beautiful, +bewitching lady in the land. + +FANNY. And how long will you think all that? + +VERNON. For ever, and ever, and ever. + +FANNY. Oh, you dear boy. [_She kisses him_.] You don’t know how a +woman loves the man she loves to love her. [_Laughs_.] Isn’t that +complicated? + +VERNON. Not at all. We’re just the same. We love to love the woman we +love. + +FANNY. Provided the “County” will let us. And the County has said: A +man may not marry his butler’s niece. + +VERNON [_laughing_]. You’ve got butlers on the brain. If ever I do run +away with my own cook or under-housemaid, it will be your doing. + +FANNY. You haven’t the pluck! The “County” would laugh at you. You men +are so frightened of being laughed at. + +VERNON [_he rises_]. Well, if it saves us from making asses of +ourselves— + +FANNY. Wasn’t there a niece of old Bennet’s, a girl who had been brought +up abroad, and who _wasn’t_ a domestic servant—never had been—who stayed +with them here, at the gardener’s cottage, for a short time, some few +years ago? + +VERNON. You mean poor Rose Bennet’s daughter—the one who ran away and +married an organ-grinder. + +FANNY. An organ-grinder? + +VERNON. Something of that sort—yes. They had her over; did all they +could. A crazy sort of girl; used to sing French ballads on the village +green to all the farm labourers she could collect. Shortened poor +Bennet’s life by about ten years. [_Laughs_.] But why? Not going to +bully me for not having fallen in love with her, are you? Because that +really _wasn’t_ my fault. I never even saw her. ’Twas the winter we +spent in Rome. She bolted before we got back. Never gave me a chance. + +FANNY. I accept the excuse. [_Laughs_.] No, I was merely wondering +what the “County” would have done if by any chance you had married _her_. +Couldn’t have said you were marrying into your own kitchen in her case, +because she was never _in_ your kitchen—absolutely refused to enter it, +I’m told. + +VERNON [_laughs_]. It would have been a “nice point,” as they say in +legal circles. If people had liked her, they’d have tried to forget that +her cousins had ever been scullery-maids. If not, they’d have taken good +care that nobody did. + +_Bennet enters_. _He brings some cut flowers_, _with the_ “_placing_” +_of which he occupies himself_. + +BENNET. I did not know your lordship had returned. + +VERNON. Found a telegram waiting for me in the village. What’s become +of that niece of yours, Bennet—your sister Rose’s daughter, who was here +for a short time and ran away again? Ever hear anything about her? + +BENNET [_very quietly he turns_, _lets his eyes for a moment meet +Fanny’s_. _Then answers as he crosses to the windows_]. The last I +heard about her was that she was married. + +VERNON. Satisfactorily? + +BENNET. Looking at it from her point of view—most satisfactorily. + +VERNON [_laughs_]. But looking at it from his—more doubtful? + +BENNET. She was not without her attractions. Her chief faults, I am +inclined to think, were those arising from want of discipline in youth. +I have hopes that it is not even yet too late to root out from her nature +the weeds of indiscretion. + +VERNON. And you think he is the man to do it? + +BENNET. Perhaps not. But fortunately there are those about her fully +alive to the duty devolving upon them. + +VERNON. Um. Sounds a little bit like penal servitude for the poor girl, +the way you put it, Bennet. + +BENNET. Even penal servitude may be a blessing, if it serves to correct +a stubborn spirit. + +VERNON. We’ll have to make you a J.P., Bennet. Must be jolly careful I +don’t ever get tried before you. [_Laughs_.] Is that the cart? + +BENNET [_he looks out through the window_]. Yes, your lordship. + +VERNON [_he takes up his cap_]. I may be bringing someone back with me. +[_To Fanny_, _who throughout has remained seated_.] Why not put on your +hat—come with me? + +FANNY [_she jumps up_, _delighted_]. Shall I? + +BENNET. Your ladyship is not forgetting that to-day is Wednesday? + +FANNY. What’s the odds. There’s nobody to call. Everybody is still in +town. + +BENNET. It has always been the custom of the Lady Bantocks, when in +residence, to be at home on Wednesdays. + +VERNON. Perhaps better not. It may cause talk; if, by chance, anybody +does come. I was forgetting it was Wednesday. [_Fanny sits again_.] I +shan’t do anything without consulting you. Good-bye. + +FANNY. Good-bye. + +_Vernon goes out_. + +BENNET. You think it wise, discussing with his lordship the secret +history of the Bennet family? + +FANNY. What do you mean by telling him my father was an organ-grinder? +If the British public knew the difference between music and a +hurdy-gurdy, he would have kept a butler of his own. + +BENNET. I am not aware of having mentioned to his lordship that you ever +to my knowledge even had a father. It is not my plan—for the present at +all events—to inform his lordship anything about your family. Take care +I am not forced to. + +FANNY. Because my father, a composer who had his work performed at the +Lamoureux Concerts—as I can prove, because I’ve got the programme—had the +misfortune to marry into a family of lackeys—I’m not talking about my +mother: she was never really one of you. _She_ had the soul of an +artist. + +BENNET [_white with suppressed fury_; _he is in front of her_; _his very +look is enough to silence her_]. Now you listen to me, my girl, once and +for all. I told you the night of your arrival that whether this business +was going to prove a pleasant or an unpleasant one depended upon you. +You make it an easy one—for your own sake. With one word I can bring +your house of cards about your ears. I’ve only to tell him the truth for +him to know you as a cheat and liar. [_She goes to speak_; _again he +silences her_.] You listen to me. You’ve seen fit to use strong +language; now I’m using strong language. This _boy_, who has married you +in a moment of impulse, what does _he_ know about the sort of wife a man +in his position needs? What do _you_? made to sing for your living on +the Paris boulevards—whose only acquaintance with the upper classes has +been at shady restaurants. + +FANNY. He didn’t _want_ a woman of his own class. He told me so. It +was because I wasn’t a colourless, conventional puppet with a book of +etiquette in place of a soul that he was first drawn towards me. + +BENNET. Yes. At twenty-two, boys like unconventionality. Men don’t: +they’ve learnt its true name, vulgarity. Do you think I’ve stood behind +English society for forty years without learning anything about it! What +you call a colourless puppet is what _we_ call an English lady. And that +you’ve got to learn to be. You talk of “lackeys.” If your mother, my +poor sister Rose, came from a family of “lackeys” there would be no hope +for you. With her blood in your veins the thing can be done. We +Bennets—[_he draws himself up_]—we serve. We are not lackeys. + +FANNY. All right. Don’t you call my father an organ-grinder, and I +won’t call you lackeys. Unfortunately that doesn’t end the trouble. + +BENNET. The trouble can easily be ended. + +FANNY. Yes. By my submitting to be ruled in all things for the +remainder of my life by my own servants. + +BENNET. Say “relations,” and it need not sound so unpleasant. + +FANNY. Yes, it would. It would sound worse. One can get rid of one’s +servants. [_She has crossed towards the desk_. _Her cheque-book lies +there half hidden under other papers_. _It catches her eye_. _Her hand +steals unconsciously towards it_. _She taps it idly with her fingers_. +_It is all the work of a moment_. _Nothing comes of it_. _Just the idea +passes through her brain—not for the first time_. _She does nothing +noticeable—merely stands listless while one might count half a dozen—then +turns to him again_.] Don’t you think you’re going it a bit too strong, +all of you? I’m not a fool. I’ve got a lot to learn, I know. I’d be +grateful for help. What you’re trying to do is to turn me into a new +woman entirely. + +BENNET. Because that is the only _way_ to help you. Men do not put new +wine into old bottles. + +FANNY. Oh, don’t begin quoting Scripture. I want to discuss the thing +sensibly. Don’t you see it can’t be done? I can’t be anybody else than +myself. I don’t want to. + +BENNET. My girl, you’ve _got_ to be. Root and branch, inside and +outside, before you’re fit to be Lady Bantock, mother of the Lord +Bantocks that are to be, you’ve got to be a changed woman. + +_A pause_. + +FANNY. And it’s going to be your job, from beginning to end—yours and +the rest of you. What I wear and how I look is Jane’s affair. My +prayers will be for what Aunt Susannah thinks I stand in need of. What I +eat and drink and say and do _you_ will arrange for me. And when you +die, Cousin Simeon, I suppose, will take your place. And when Aunt +Susannah dies, it will merely be a change to Aunt Amelia. And if Jane +ever dies, Honoria will have the dressing and the lecturing of me. And +so on and so on, world without end, for ever and ever, Amen. + +BENNET. Before that time, you will, I shall hope, have learnt sufficient +sense to be grateful to us. [_He goes out_.] + +FANNY [_she turns—walks slowly back towards the tea-table_. _Halfway she +pauses_, _and leaning over the back of a chair regards in silence for a +while the portrait of the first Lady Bantock_]. I do wish I could tell +what you were saying. + +_The door opens_. _The Misses Wetherell come in_. _They wear the same +frocks that they wore in the first act_. _They pause_. _Fanny is still +gazing at the portrait_. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Don’t you notice it, dear? + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Yes. There really is. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. It struck me the first day. [_To Fanny_, _who +has turned_] Your likeness, dear, to Lady Constance. It’s really quite +remarkable. + +FANNY. You think so? + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. It’s your expression—when you are serious. + +FANNY [_laughs_]. I must try to be more serious. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. It will come, dear. + +_They take their places side by side on the settee_. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL [_to her sister_, _with a pat of the hand_]. +In good time. It’s so nice to have her young. I wonder if anybody’ll +come this afternoon. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL [_to Fanny_]. You see, dear, most of the county +people are still in town. + +FANNY [_who is pouring out tea_]. I’m not grumbling. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Oh, you’ll like them, dear. The +Cracklethorpes especially. [_To her sister for confirmation_] Bella +Cracklethorpe is so clever. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. And the Engells. She’ll like the Engells. +All the Engell girls are so pretty. [_Fanny brings over two cups of +tea_.] Thank you, dear. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL [_as she takes her cup—patting Fanny’s hand_]. +And they’ll like you, dear, _all_ of them. + +FANNY [_returning to table_]. I hope so. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. It’s wonderful, dear—you won’t mind my saying +it?—how you’ve improved. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Of course it was such a change for you. And +at first [_turns to her sister_] we were a little anxious about her, +weren’t we? + +_Fanny has returned to them with the cake-basket_. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL [_as she takes a piece_]. Bennet [_she lingers +on the name as that of an authority_] was saying only yesterday that he +had great hopes of you. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL [_Fanny is handing the basket to her_]. Thank +you, dear. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. I told Vernon. He was _so_ pleased. + +FANNY. _Vernon_ was? + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. He attaches so much importance to Bennet’s +opinion. + +FANNY. Um. I’m glad I appear to be giving satisfaction. [_She has +returned to her seat at the table_.] I suppose when you go to town, you +take the Bennets with you? + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL [_surprised at the question_]. Of course, dear. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Vernon didn’t wish to go this year. He +thought you would prefer— + +FANNY. I was merely thinking of when he did. Do you ever go abroad for +the winter? So many people do, nowadays. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. We tried it once. But there was nothing for +dear Vernon to do. You see, he’s so fond of hunting. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL [_to her sister_]. And then there will be his +Parliamentary duties that he will have to take up now. + +_Fanny rises_, _abruptly_. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. You’re not ill, dear? + +FANNY. No. Merely felt I wanted some air. You don’t mind, do you? +[_She flings a casement open_.] + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Not at all, dear. [_To her sister_] It +_is_ a bit close. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. One could really do without fires. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. If it wasn’t for the evenings. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. And then, of course, the cold weather might +come again. One can never feel safe until— + +_The door opens_. _Dr. Freemantle enters_, _announced by Bennet_. _The +old ladies go to rise_. _He stops them_. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Don’t get up. [_He shakes hands with them_.] How are +we this afternoon? [_He shakes his head and clicks his tongue_.] +Really, I think I shall have to bring an action for damages against Lady +Bantock. Ever since she— + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Hush! [_She points to the window_.] Fanny. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Here’s Doctor Freemantle. + +_Fanny comes from the window_. + +DR. FREEMANTLE [_he meets her and takes her hand_]. Was just saying, I +really think I shall have to claim damages against you, Lady Bantock. +You’ve practically deprived me of two of my best paying patients. Used +to be sending for me every other day before you came. Now look at them! +[_The two ladies laugh_.] She’s not as bad as we expected. [_He pats +her hand_.] Do you remember my description of what I thought she was +going to be like? + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. She’s a dear girl. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Bennet— + +FANNY [_she has crossed to table—is pouring out the Doctor’s tea_]. Oh, +mightn’t we have a holiday from Bennet? + +DR. FREEMANTLE [_laughs_]. Seems to be having a holiday himself to-day. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. A holiday? + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Didn’t you know? Oh, there’s an awfully swagger party +on downstairs. They were all trooping in as I came. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. I’d no idea he was giving a party. [_To +Fanny_] Did you, dear? + +FANNY [_she hands the Doctor his tea_]. Yes. It’s a prayer meeting. +The whole family, I expect, has been summoned. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. A prayer meeting! Didn’t look like it. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. But why should he be holding a prayer meeting? + +FANNY. Oh, one of the family— + +DR. FREEMANTLE. And why twelve girls in a van? + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. In a van? + +DR. FREEMANTLE. One of Hutton’s from the Station Hotel—with a big poster +pinned on the door: “Our Empire.” + +_Fanny has risen_. _She crosses and rings the bell_. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. What’s the matter, dear? + +FANNY. I’m not quite sure yet. [_Her whole manner is changed_. _A look +has come into her eyes that has not been there before_. _She speaks in +quiet_, _determined tones_. _She rings again_. _Then returning to +table_, _hands the cake-basket to the Doctor_.] Won’t you take one, +Doctor? They’re not as indigestible as they look. [_Laughs_.] + +DR. FREEMANTLE [_he also is bewildered at the changed atmosphere_]. +Thank you. I hope I— + +FANNY [_she turns to Ernest_, _who has entered_. _Her tone_, _for the +first time_, _is that of a mistress speaking to her servants_]. Have any +visitors called for me this afternoon? + +ERNEST. Vi-visitors—? + +FANNY. Some ladies. + +ERNEST [_he is in a slough of doubt and terror_]. L—ladies? + +FANNY. Yes. Please try to understand the English language. Has a party +of ladies called here this afternoon? + +ERNEST. There have been some ladies. They—we— + +FANNY. Where are they? + +ERNEST. They—I— + +FANNY. Send Bennet up to me. Instantly, please. + +_Ernest_, _only too glad to be off_, _stumbles out_. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. My dear— + +FANNY. You’ll take some more tea, won’t you? Do you mind, Doctor, +passing Miss Wetherell’s cup? And the other one. Thank you. And will +you pass them the biscuits? You see, I am doing all I can on your +behalf. [_She is talking and laughing—a little hysterically—for the +purpose of filling time_.] Tea and hot cake—could anything be worse for +them? + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Well, tea, you know— + +FANNY. I know. [_Laughs_.] You doctors are all alike. You all +denounce it, but you all drink it. [_She hands him the two cups_.] That +one is for Aunt Wetherell of the beautiful hair; and the other is for +Aunt Wetherell of the beautiful eyes. [_Laughs_.] It’s the only way I +can distinguish them. + +_Bennet enters_. + +Oh, Bennet! + +BENNET. You sent for me? + +FANNY. Yes. I understand some ladies have called. + +BENNET. I think your ladyship must have been misinformed. I most +certainly have seen none. + +FANNY. I have to assume, Bennet, that either Dr. Freemantle or you are +telling lies. + +_A silence_. + +BENNET. A party of over-dressed young women, claiming to be acquainted +with your ladyship, have arrived in a van. I am giving them tea in the +servants’ hall, and will see to it that they are sent back to the station +in ample time to catch their train back to town. + +FANNY. Please show them up. They will have their tea here. + +BENNET [_her very quietness is beginning to alarm him_. _It shakes him +from his customary perfection of manners_]. The Lady Bantocks do not as +a rule receive circus girls in their boudoir. + +FANNY [_still with her alarming quietness_]. Neither do they argue with +their servants. Please show these ladies in. + +BENNET. I warn you— + +FANNY. You heard my orders. [_Her tone has the right ring_. _The force +of habit is too strong upon him_. _He yields—savagely—and goes out_. +_She turns to the Doctor_.] So sorry I had to drag you into it. I +didn’t see how else I was going to floor him. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Splendid! [_He grips her hand_.] + +FANNY [_she goes to the old ladies who sit bewildered terrified_.] They +won’t be here for more than a few minutes—they can’t be. I want you to +be nice to them—both of you. They are friends of mine. [_She turns to +the Doctor_.] They’re the girls I used to act with. We went all over +Europe—twelve of us—representing the British Empire. They are playing in +London now. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. To-night? [_He looks at his watch_.] + +FANNY [_she is busy at the tea-table_]. Yes. They are on the stage at +half past nine. You might look out their train for them. [_She points +to the Bradshaw on the desk_.] I don’t suppose they’ve ever thought +about how they’re going to get back. It’s Judy’s inspiration, this, the +whole thing; I’d bet upon it. [_With a laugh_.] She always was as mad +as a March hare. + +DR. FREEMANTLE [_busy with the Bradshaw_]. They were nice-looking girls. + +FANNY. Yes. I think we did the old man credit. [_With a laugh_.] John +Bull’s daughters, they called us in Paris. + +_Bennet appears in doorway_. + +BENNET [_announces_]. “Our Empire.” + +_Headed by_ “_England_,” _the twelve girls_, _laughing_, _crowding_, +_jostling one another_, _talking all together_, _swoop in_. + +ENGLAND [_a lady with a decided Cockney accent_]. Oh, my dear, talk +about an afternoon! We ’ave ’ad a treat getting ’ere. + +_Fanny kisses her_. + +SCOTLAND [_they also kiss_]. Your boss told us you’d gone out. + +FANNY. It was a slight—misunderstanding. Bennet, take away these +things, please. And let me have half a dozen bottles of champagne. + +STRAITS SETTLEMENTS [_a small girl at the back of the crowd—with a shrill +voice_]. Hooray! + +BENNET [_he is controlling himself with the supremest difficulty_. +_Within he is a furnace_]. I’m afraid I have mislaid the key of the +cellar. + +FANNY [_she looks at him_]. You will please find it—quickly. [_Bennet_, +_again from habit_, _yields_. _But his control almost fails him_. _He +takes up the tray of unneeded tea-things from the table_.] I shall want +some more of all these [_cakes_, _fruit_, _sandwiches_, _etc._]. And +some people to wait. Tell Jane she must come and help. + +_Bennet goes out_. _During this passage of arms between mistress and man +a momentary lull has taken place in the hubbub_. _As he goes out_, _it +begins to grow again_. + +ENGLAND. ’E does tease yer, don’t ’e? Wanted us to ’ave tea in the +kitchen. + +FANNY. Yes. These old family servants— + +AFRICA [_she prides herself on being_ “_quite the lady_”]. Don’t talk +about ’em, dear. We had just such another. [_She turns to a girl near +her_.] Oh, they’ll run the whole show for you if you let ’em. + +ENGLAND. It was Judy’s idea, our giving you this little treat. Don’t +you blime me for it. + +WALES [_a small_, _sprightly girl with a childish_, _laughing voice_]. +Well, we were all together with nothing better to do. They’d called a +rehearsal and then found they didn’t want us—silly fools. I told ’em +you’d just be tickled to death. + +FANNY [_laughing—kisses her_]. So I am. It was a brilliant idea. [_By +this time she has kissed or shaken hands with the whole dozen_.] I can’t +introduce you all singly; it would take too long. [_She makes a +wholesale affair of it_.] My aunts, the Misses Wetherell—Dr. Freemantle. + +_The Misses Wetherell_, _suggesting two mice being introduced to a party +of friendly kittens_, _standing_, _clinging to one another_, _murmur +something inaudible_. + +DR. FREEMANTLE [_who is with them to comfort them—he has got rid of the +time-table_, _discreetly—smiles_]. Delighted. + +ENGLAND. Charmed. [_The others join in_, _turning it into a chorus_. +_To Fanny_] Glad we didn’t strike one of your busy days. I say, you’re +not as dressy as you used to be. ’Ow are they doing you?—all right? + +FANNY. Yes. Oh, yes. + +CANADA [“_Gerty_,” _a big_, _handsome girl_, _with a loud_, _commanding +voice_]. George gave me your message. + +FANNY [_puzzled at first_]. My message? [_Remembering—laughs_.] Oh. +That I was Lady Bantock of Bantock Hall. Yes. I thought you’d be +pleased. + +CANADA. Was delighted, dear. + +FANNY. So glad. + +CANADA. I’d always had the idea that you were going to make a mess of +your marriage. + +FANNY. What a funny idea! [_But the laugh that accompanies it is not a +merry one_.] + +CANADA. Wasn’t it? So glad I was wrong. + +WALES. We’re all of us looking out for lords in disguise, now. Can’t +you give us a tip, dear, how to tell ’em? + +SCOTLAND. Sukey has broken it off with her boy. Found he was mixed up +in trade. + +STRAITS SETTLEMENTS [_as before_, _unseen at back of crowd_]. No. I +didn’t. ’Twas his moral character. + +_Then enter Honoria with glasses on a tray_; _Ernest with champagne_; +_Jane with eatables_; _Bennet with a napkin_. _It is a grim procession_. +_The girls are scattered_, _laughing_, _talking_: _Africa to the Misses +Wetherell_; _a couple to Dr. Freemantle_. _England_, _Scotland_, +_Wales_, _and Canada are with Fanny_. _The hubbub_, _with the advent of +the refreshments_, _increases_. _There is a general movement towards the +refreshments_. + +FANNY. Thanks, Bennet. You can clear away a corner of the desk. + +ENGLAND [_aside to her_]. Go easy with it, dear. [_Fanny_, _smiling_, +_nods_. _She directs operations in a low tone to the Bennets_, _who take +her orders in grim silence and with lips tight shut_.] Don’t forget, +girls, that we’ve got to get back to-night. [_Aside to the Doctor_, _who +has come forward to help_.] Some of ’em, you know, ain’t used to it. + +DR. FREEMANTLE [_nods_]. Glasses not _too_ full. [_He whispers to +Fanny_.] + +IRELAND [_a decided young woman_]. How much time have we got? + +ENGLAND. Don’t ask me. It’s Judy’s show. + +WALES [_mimicking Newte_]. The return train, ladies, leaves Oakham +station. [_Stops—she is facing the clock_. _She begins to laugh_.] + +ENGLAND. What’s the matter? + +WALES [_still laughing_]. We’ve got just quarter of an hour to catch it. + +_There is a wild rush for the refreshments_. _Jane is swept off her +feet_. _Bennet’s tray is upset_. + +ENGLAND. Quarter—! Oh, my Gawd! Here, tuck up your skirts, girls. +We’ll have to— + +DR. FREEMANTLE. It’s all right. You’ve got plenty of time, ladies. +There’s a train from Norton on the branch line at 5.33. Gets you into +London at a quarter to nine. + +ENGLAND. You’re _sure_? + +DR. FREEMANTLE [_he has his watch in his hand_]. Quite sure. The +station is only half a mile away. + +ENGLAND. Don’t let’s miss it. Keep your watch in your ’and, there’s a +dear. + +FANNY [_her business is—and has been—to move quietly through the throng_, +_making the girls welcome_, _talking_, _laughing with them_, _directing +the servants—all in a lady’s way_. _On the whole she does it remarkably +well_. _She is offering a plate of fruit to Judy_]. You’re a nice +acting manager, you are. [_Judy laughs_. _Fanny finds herself in front +of Ireland_. _She turns to England_.] Won’t you introduce us? + +ENGLAND. I beg your pardon, dear. Of course, you don’t know each other. +Miss Tetsworth, our new Ireland, Lady Bantock. It is “Bantock,” isn’t +it, dear? + +FANNY. Quite right. It’s a good little part, isn’t it? + +IRELAND. Well, depends upon what you’ve been used to. + +ENGLAND. She’s got talent, as I tell ’er. But she ain’t you, dear. +It’s no good saying she is. + +FANNY [_hastening to smooth it over_]. People always speak so well of us +after we’re gone. [_Laughs_.] You’ll take another glass of champagne. + +IRELAND. Thank you—you made a great success, they tell me, in the part. + +FANNY. Oh, there’s a deal of fluke about these things. You see, I had +the advantage— + +DR. FREEMANTLE [_with watch still in his hand_]. I _think_, ladies— + +ENGLAND. Come on, girls. + +_A general movement_. + +FANNY. You must all come again—spend a whole day—some Sunday. + +CANADA. Remember me to Vernon. + +FANNY. He’ll be so sorry to have— + +ENGLAND [_cutting in_]. ’Ope we ’aven’t upset you, dear. [_She is +bustling them all up_.] + +FANNY. Not at all. [_She is kissing the girls_.] It’s been so good to +see you all again. + +ENGLAND. ’Urry up, girls, there’s dears. [_To Fanny_] Good-bye, dear. +[_Kissing her_.] We _do_ miss yer. + +FANNY. I’m glad you do. + +ENGLAND. Oh, it ain’t the same show. [_The others are crowding out of +the door_. _She and Fanny are quite apart_.] No chance of your coming +back to it, I suppose? [_A moment_.] Well, there, you never know, do +yer? Good-bye, dear. [_Kisses her again_.] + +FANNY. Good-bye! [_She stands watching them out_. _Bennet goes down +with them_. _Ernest is busy collecting debris_. _Jane and Honoria stand +one each side of the table_, _rigid_, _with set faces_. _After a moment +Fanny goes to the open window_. _The voices of the girls below_, +_crowding into the van_, _come up into the room_. _She calls down to +them_.] Good-bye. You’ve plenty of time. What? Yes, of course. +[_Laughs_.] All right. Good-bye. [_She turns_, _comes slowly back_. +_She looks at Jane and Honoria_, _where they stand rigid_. _Honoria +makes a movement with her shoulders—takes a step towards the door_.] +Honoria! [_Honoria stops—slowly turns_.] You can take away these +glasses. Jane will help you. + +_Bennet has reappeared_. + +HONORIA. It’s not my place— + +FANNY. Your place is to obey my orders. + +BENNET [_his coolness seems to have deserted him_. _His voice is +trembling_]. Obey her ladyship’s orders, both of you. Leave the rest to +me. [_Honoria and Jane busy themselves_, _with Ernest setting the room +to rights_.] May I speak with your ladyship? + +FANNY. Certainly. + +BENNET. Alone, I mean. + +FANNY. I see no need. + +BENNET [_her firmness takes him aback_. _He expected to find her +defiance disappear with the cause of it_. _But pig-headed_, _as all +Bennets_, _her opposition only drives him on_]. Your ladyship is not +forgetting the alternative? + +_The Misses Wetherell have been watching the argument much as the babes +in the wood might have watched the discussion between the two robbers_. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL [_in terror_]. Bennet! you’re not going to give +notice! + +BENNET. What my duty may be, I shall be able to decide after I have +spoken with her ladyship—alone. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Dear! You will see him? + +FANNY. I am sorry. I have not the time. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. No. Of course. [_Appealing to Bennet for +mercy_] Her ladyship is tired. To-morrow— + +FANNY [_interrupting_]. Neither to-morrow—nor any other day. [_Vernon +enters_, _followed by Newte_. _She advances to meet them_.] You’ve just +missed some old friends of yours. [_She shakes hands with Newte_.] + +VERNON. So it seems. We were hoping to have been in time. [_To Newte_] +The mare came along pretty slick, didn’t she? + +BENNET [_he has remained with his look fixed all the time on Fanny_]. +May I speak with your lordship a moment—in private? + +VERNON. Now? + +BENNET. It is a matter that needs to be settled now. [_It is the tone +of respectful authority he has always used towards the lad_.] + +VERNON. Well, if it’s as pressing as all that I suppose you must. [_He +makes a movement towards the door_. _To Newte_] Shan’t be long. + +FANNY. One moment. [_Vernon stops_.] I may be able to render the +interview needless. Who is mistress of this house? + +VERNON. Who is mistress? + +FANNY. Who is mistress of your house? + +VERNON. Why, you are, of course. + +FANNY. Thank you. [_She turns to Bennet_] Please tell Mrs. Bennet I +want her. + +BENNET. I think if your lordship— + +FANNY. At once. [_She is looking at him_. _He struggles—looks at +Vernon_. _But Vernon is evidently inclined to support Fanny_. _Bennet +goes out_. _She crosses and seats herself at the desk_. _She takes from +a drawer some neatly folded papers_. _She busies herself with figures_.] + +VERNON [_he crosses to his Aunts_]. Whatever’s the matter? + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. She is excited. She has had a very trying +time. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Bennet didn’t like the idea of her receiving +them. + +NEWTE. It was that minx Judy’s doing. They’ll have the rough side of my +tongue when I get back—all of them. + +VERNON. What does she want with Mrs. Bennet? + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. I can’t think. + +_The atmosphere is somewhat that of a sheepfold before a thunderstorm_. +_The Misses Wetherell are still clinging to one another_. _Vernon and +Dr. Freemantle are both watching Fanny_. _Jane_, _Honoria_, _and Ernest +are still busy about the room_. + +_Suddenly_, _to Newte—who is standing apart—the whole thing comes with a +rush_. _But it is too late for him to interfere_. + +_Mrs. Bennet_, _followed by Bennet_, _are entering the room_. _He shrugs +his shoulders and turns away_. + +MRS. BENNET. Your ladyship sent for me? + +FANNY. Yes. [_She half turns—holds out a paper_.] This wages sheet is +quite correct, I take it? It is your own. + +MRS. BENNET [_she takes it_]. Quite correct. + +FANNY [_she tears out a cheque she has written—hands it to Mrs. Bennet_]. +You will find there two months’ wages for the entire family. I have made +it out in a lump sum payable to your husband. The other month is in lieu +of notice. [_A silence_. _The thing strikes them all dumb_. _She puts +the cheque-book back and closes the drawer_. _She rises_.] I’m sorry. +There’s been a misunderstanding. It’s time that it ended. It has been +my own fault. [_To Vernon_] I deceived you about my family— + +NEWTE. If there’s been any deceit— + +FANNY. My scene, please, George. [_Newte_, _knowing her_, _returns to +silence_.] I have no relations outside this country that I know of. My +uncle is Martin Bennet, your butler. Mrs. Bennet is my aunt. I’m not +ashamed of them. If they’d had as much respect for me as I have for +them, this trouble would not have arisen. We don’t get on together, +that’s all. And this seems to me the only way out. As I said before, +I’m sorry. + +VERNON [_recovering speech_]. But why did you—? + +FANNY [_her control gives way_. _She breaks out_]. Oh, because I’ve +been a fool. It’s the explanation of most people’s muddles, I expect, if +they only knew it. Don’t talk to me, anybody. I’ve got nothing more to +say. [_To Bennet_] I’m sorry. You wouldn’t give me a chance. I’d have +met you half way. [_To Mrs. Bennet_] I’m sorry. Don’t be too hard on +me. It won’t mean much trouble to you. Good servants don’t go begging. +You can depend upon me for a character. [_To Jane_] You’ll do much +better for yourselves elsewhere. [_To Honoria_] Don’t let that pretty +face of yours ever get you into trouble. [_To Ernest_] Good-bye, +Ernest. We were always pals, weren’t we? Good-bye. [_She kisses him_. +_It has all been the work of a moment_. _She comes down again_.] Don’t +think me rude, but I’d like to be alone. We can talk calmly about it all +to-morrow morning. [_To the Misses Wetherell_] I’m so awfully sorry. I +wish I could have seen any other way out. [_The tears are streaming from +her eyes_. _To Vernon_] Take them all away, won’t you, dear? We’ll +talk about it all to-morrow. I’ll feel gooder. [_She kisses him_. _To +Dr. Freemantle_] Take them all away. Tell him it wasn’t all my fault. +[_To Newte_] You’ll have to stop the night. There are no more trains. +I’ll see you in the morning. Good night. + +_Bennet has collected his troop_. _Leads them away_. _Dr. Freemantle_, +_kindly and helpful_, _takes off Vernon and the two ladies_. + +NEWTE [_he grips her hand_, _and speaks in his short_, _growling way_]. +Good night, old girl. [_He follows the others out_.] + +FANNY [_crosses towards the windows_. _Her chief business is dabbing her +eyes_. _The door closes with a click_. _She turns_. _She puts her +handkerchief away_. _She looks at the portrait of Constance_, _first +Lady Bantock_]. I believe it’s what you’ve been telling me to do, all +the time. + + [CURTAIN] + + + + +_ACT IV_ + + + _SCENE_ + +_The same_. _The blinds are down_. _Ashes fill the grate_. + +_Time_.—_Early the next morning_. + +_The door opens softly_. _Newte steals in_. _He fumbles his way across +to the windows_, _draws the blinds_. _The morning sun streams in_. _He +listens—no one seems to be stirring_. _He goes out_, _returns +immediately with a butler’s tray_, _containing all things necessary for a +breakfast and the lighting of a fire_. _He places the tray on table_, +_throws his coat over a chair_, _and is on his knees busy lighting the +fire_, _when enter the Misses Wetherell_, _clad in dressing-gowns and +caps_: _yet still they continue to look sweet_. _They also creep in_, +_hand in hand_. _The crouching Newte is hidden by a hanging +fire-screen_. _They creep forward till the coat hanging over the chair +catches their eye_. _They are staring at it as Robinson Crusoe might at +the footprint_, _when Newte rises suddenly and turns_. _The Misses +Wetherell give a suppressed scream_, _and are preparing for flight_. + +NEWTE [_he stays them_]. No call to run away, ladies. When a man’s +travelled—as I have—across America, in a sleeping-car, with a comic-opera +troop, there’s not much left for him to know. You want your breakfast! +[_He wheedles them to the table_.] We’ll be able to talk cosily—before +anybody else comes. + +_They yield themselves_. _He has a way with him_. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. We haven’t slept all night. + +_Newte answers with a sympathetic gesture_. _He is busy getting ready +the breakfast_. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. There’s something we want to tell dear +Vernon—before he says anything to Fanny. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. It’s something very important. + +NEWTE. We’ll have a cup of tea first—to steady our nerves. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. It’s so important that we should tell him +before he sees Fanny. + +NEWTE. We’ll see to it. [_He makes the tea_.] I fancy they’re both +asleep at present. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Poor boy! + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. If she only hadn’t— + +_Dr. Freemantle has entered_. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. I thought I heard somebody stirring— + +NEWTE. Hush! [_He indicates doors_, _the one leading to her ladyship’s +apartments_, _the other to his lordship’s_.] + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL [_turning and greeting him_]. It was so kind +of you not to leave us last night. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. We were so upset. + +_Dr. Freemantle pats their hands_. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. We hope you slept all right. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Excellently. Shall be glad of a shave, that’s all. +[_Laughs_. _Both he and Newte suggest the want of one_.] + +NEWTE [_who has been officiating_]. Help yourself to milk and sugar. + +DR. FREEMANTLE [_who has seated himself_]. Have the Bennets gone? + +NEWTE. Well, they had their notice all right. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL [_they have begun to cry_]. It has been so +wrong and foolish of us. We have never learnt to do anything for +ourselves. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. We don’t even know where our things are. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. They can’t all have gone—the whole twenty-three of them, +at a couple of hours’ notice. [_To Newte_] Haven’t seen any of them, +have you? + +NEWTE. No sign of any of them downstairs. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Oh, they must be still here. Not up, I suppose. It +isn’t seven o’clock yet. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. But they have all been discharged. We can’t +ask them to do anything. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL [_to her sister_]. And the Grimstones are +coming to lunch with the new curate. Vernon asked them on Sunday. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Perhaps there’s something cold. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Vernon so dislikes a cold lunch. + +DR. FREEMANTLE [_to Newte_]. Were you able to get hold of Vernon last +night? + +NEWTE. Waited up till he came in about two o’clock. Merely answered +that he wasn’t in a talkative mood—brushed past me and locked himself in. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. He wouldn’t say anything to me either. Rather a bad +sign when he won’t talk. + +NEWTE. What’s he likely to do? + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Don’t know. Of course it will be all over the county. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. And dear Vernon is so sensitive. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. It had to come—the misfortune _is_— + +NEWTE. The misfortune _is_ that people won’t keep to their own line of +business. Why did he want to come fooling around her? She was doing +well for herself. She could have married a man who would have thought +more of her than all the damn fools in the county put together. Why +couldn’t he have left her alone? + +DR. FREEMANTLE [_he is sitting at the head of the table_, _between Newte +on his right and the Misses Wetherell on his left_. _He lays his hand on +Newte’s sleeve—with a smile_]. I’m sure you can forgive a man—with eyes +and ears in his head—for having fallen in love with her. + +NEWTE. Then why doesn’t he stand by her? What if her uncle is a butler? +If he wasn’t a fool, he’d be thanking his stars that ’twas anything half +as respectable. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. I’m not defending him—we’re not sure yet that he needs +any defence. He has married a clever, charming girl of—as you say—a +better family than he’d any right to expect. The misfortune is, that—by +a curious bit of ill-luck—it happens to be his own butler. + +NEWTE. If she takes my advice, she’ll return to the stage. No sense +stopping where you’re not wanted. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. But how can she? + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. You see, they’re married! + +DR. FREEMANTLE [_to change the subject_]. You’ll take an egg? + +_Newte has been boiling some_. _He has just served them_. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL [_rejecting it_]. Thank you. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. We’re not feeling hungry. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. He was so fond of her. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. She was so pretty. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. And so thoughtful. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. One would never have known she was an +actress. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. If only she hadn’t— + +_Bennet has entered_. _Newte is at fireplace_. _The old ladies have +their backs to the door_. _Dr. Freemantle_, _who is pouring out tea_, +_is the first to see him_. _He puts down the teapot_, _staring_. _The +old ladies look round_. _A silence_. _Newte turns_. _Bennet is again +the perfect butler_. _Yesterday would seem to have been wiped out of his +memory_. + +BENNET. Good morning, Miss Wetherell. Good morning, Miss Edith. [_To +the two men_] Good morning. I was not aware that breakfast was required +to be any earlier than usual, or I should have had it ready. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. We are sure you would, Bennet. But you see, +under the circumstances, we—we hardly liked to trouble you. + +BENNET [_he goes about the room_, _putting things to rights_. _He has +rung the bell_. _Some dead flowers he packs on to Newte’s tray_, _the +water he pours into Newte’s slop-basin_]. My duty, Miss Edith, I have +never felt to be a trouble to me. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. We know, Bennet. You have always been so +conscientious. But, of course, after what’s happened—[_They are on the +verge of tears again_.] + +BENNET [_he is piling up the breakfast things_]. Keziah requested me to +apologise to you for not having heard your bell this morning. She will +be ready to wait upon you in a very few minutes. [_To the Doctor_] You +will find shaving materials, doctor, on your dressing-table. + +DR. FREEMANTLE. Oh, thank you. + +_Ernest has entered_, _with some wood_; _he is going towards the fire_. + +BENNET [_to Ernest_]. Leave the fire for the present. Take away this +tray. [_Ernest takes up the tray_, _and goes out_. _Bennet speaks over +the heads of the Misses Wetherell to Newte_] Breakfast will be ready in +the morning-room, in a quarter of an hour. + +NEWTE [_at first puzzled_, _then indignant_, _now breaks out_]. What’s +the little game on here—eh? Yesterday afternoon you were given the +sack—by your mistress, Lady Bantock, with a month’s wages in lieu of +notice—not an hour before you deserved it. What do you mean, going on +like this, as if nothing had happened? Is Lady Bantock to be ignored in +this house as if she didn’t exist—or is she not? [_He brings his fist +down on the table_. _He has been shouting rather than speaking_.] I +want this thing settled! + +BENNET. Your bath, Mr. Newte, is quite ready. + +NEWTE [_as soon as he can recover speech_]. Never you mind my bath, I +want— + +_Vernon has entered_. _He is pale_, _heavy-eyed_, _short in his manner_, +_listless_. + +VERNON. Good morning—everybody. Can I have some breakfast, Bennet? + +BENNET. In about ten minutes; I will bring it up here. [_He collects +the kettle from the fire as he passes_, _and goes out_.] + +VERNON. Thank you. [_He responds mechanically to the kisses of his two +aunts_, _who have risen and come to him_.] + +NEWTE. Can I have a word with you? + +VERNON. A little later on, if you don’t mind, Mr. Newte. [_He passes +him_.] + +NEWTE [_he is about to speak_, _changes his mind_]. All right, go your +own way. [_Goes out_.] + +DR. FREEMANTLE. “Remember”, says Marcus Aurelius— + +VERNON. Yes—good old sort, Marcus Aurelius. [_He drops listlessly into +a chair_.] + +_Dr. Freemantle smiles resignedly_, _looks at the Misses Wetherell_, +_shrugs his shoulders_, _and goes out_, _closing the door after him_. + +_The Misses Wetherell whisper together—look round cautiously_, _steal up +behind him_, _encouraging one another_. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. She’s so young. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. And so adaptable. + +VERNON [_he is sitting_, _bowed down_, _with his face in his hands_]. +Ah, it was the deception. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL [_she puts her old thin hand on his +shoulder_]. What would you have done, dear, if she had told you—at +first? + +VERNON [_he takes her hand in his—answers a little brokenly_]. I don’t +know. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. There’s something we wanted to tell you. [_He +looks at her_. _They look across at each other_.] The first Lady +Bantock, your great-grandmamma— + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. She danced with George III. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. She was a butcher’s daughter. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. He was quite a little butcher. + +THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Of course, as a rule, dear, we never mention +it. + +THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. We felt you ought to know. [_They take each +other’s hands_; _on tip-toe they steal out_. _They close the door softly +behind them_.] + +_Vernon rises_. _He looks at the portrait—draws nearer to it_. _With +his hands in his pockets_, _stops dead in front of it_, _and contemplates +it in silence_. _The door of the dressing-room opens_. _Fanny enters_. +_She is dressed for going out_. _She stands for a moment_, _the door in +her hand_. _Vernon turns_. _She closes the door and comes forward_. + +VERNON. Good morning. + +FANNY. Good morning. George stayed the night, didn’t he? + +VERNON. Yes. He’s downstairs now. + +FANNY. He won’t be going for a little while? + +VERNON. Can’t till the ten o’clock train. Have you had breakfast? + +FANNY. I—I’ve had something to eat. I’m sorry for what I did last +night—although they did deserve it. [_Laughs_.] I suppose it’s a matter +than can easily be put right again. + +VERNON. You have no objection to their staying? + +FANNY. Why should I? + +VERNON. What do you mean? + +FANNY. There’s only one hope of righting a mistake. And that is going +back to the point from where one went wrong—and that was our marriage. + +[_A moment_.] + +VERNON. We haven’t given it a very long trial. + +FANNY [_with an odd smile_]. It went to pieces at the first. I was in +trouble all last night; you must have known it. You left me alone. + +VERNON. Jane told me you had locked yourself in. + +FANNY. You never tried the door for yourself, dear. [_She pretends to +rearrange something on the mantelpiece—any excuse to turn away her face +for a moment_. _She turns to him again_, _smiling_.] It was a mistake, +the whole thing. You were partly to blame. You were such a nice boy. I +“fancied” you—to use George’s words. [_She laughs_.] And when a woman +wants a thing, she is apt to be a bit unscrupulous about how she gets it. +[_She moves about the room_, _touching the flowers_, _rearranging a +cushion_, _a vase_.] I didn’t invent the bishop; that was George’s +embroidery. [_Another laugh_.] But, of course, I ought to have told you +everything myself. I ought not to have wanted a man to whom it would +have made one atom of difference whether my cousins were scullery-maids +or not. Somehow, I felt that to you it might. [_Vernon winces_.] It’s +natural enough. You have a big position to maintain. I didn’t know you +were a lord—that was your doing. George did find it out, but he never +told me; least of all, that you were Lord Bantock—or you may be pretty +sure I should have come out with the truth, if only for my own sake. It +hasn’t been any joke for me, coming back here. + +VERNON. Yes. I can see they’ve been making things pretty hard for you. + +FANNY. Oh, they thought they were doing their duty. [_He is seated_. +_She comes up behind him_, _puts her hands on his shoulders_.] I want +you to take them all back again. I want to feel I have made as little +commotion in your life as possible. It was just a little mistake. And +everybody will say how fortunate it was that she took herself off so soon +with that—[_She was about to say_ “_that theatrical Johnny_,” _thinking +of Newte_. _She checks herself_.] And you will marry somebody belonging +to your own class. And those are the only sensible marriages there are. + +VERNON. Have you done talking? + +FANNY. Yes! Yes, I think that’s all. + +VERNON. Then perhaps you’ll let me get in a word. You think me a snob? +[_Fanny makes a movement_.] As a matter of fact, I am. + +FANNY. No, that’s not fair. You wouldn’t have married a girl off the +music-hall stage. + +VERNON. Niece of a bishop, cousin to a judge. Whether I believed it or +not, doesn’t matter. The sham that isn’t likely to be found out is as +good as the truth, to a snob. If he had told me your uncle was a butler, +I should have hesitated. That’s where the mistake began. We’ll go back +to that. Won’t you sit down? [_Fanny sits_.] I want you to stop. +There’ll be no mistake this time. I’m asking my butler’s niece to do me +the honour to be my wife. + +FANNY. That’s kind of you. + +VERNON. Oh, I’m not thinking of you. I’m thinking of myself. I want +you. I fell in love with you because you were pretty and charming. +There’s something else a man wants in his wife besides that. I’ve found +it. [_He jumps up_, _goes over to her_, _brushing aside things in his +way_.] I’m not claiming it as a right; you can go if you like. You can +earn your own living, I know. But you shan’t have anybody else. You’ll +be Lady Bantock and nobody else—as long as I live. [_He has grown quite +savage_.] + +FANNY [_she bites her lip to keep back the smile that wants to come_]. +That cuts both ways, you know. + +VERNON. I don’t want anybody else. + +FANNY [_she stretches out her hand and lays it on his_]. Won’t it be too +hard for you? You’ll have to tell them all—your friends—everybody. + +VERNON. They’ve got to be told in any case. If you are here, for them +to see, they’ll be able to understand—those that have got any sense. + +_Bennet comes in with breakfast_, _for two_, _on a tray_. _He places it +on a table_. + +FANNY [_she has risen_, _she goes over to him_]. Good morning, uncle. +[_She puts up her face_. _He stares_, _but she persists_. _Bennet +kisses her_.] Lord Bantock—[_she looks at Vernon_]—has a request to make +to you. He wishes me to remain here as his wife. I am willing to do so, +provided you give your consent. + +VERNON. Quite right, Bennet. I ought to have asked for it before. I +apologise. Will you give your consent to my marriage with your niece? + +FANNY. One minute. You understand what it means? From the moment you +give it—if you do give it—I shall be Lady Bantock, your mistress. + +BENNET. My dear Fanny! My dear Vernon! I speak, for the first and last +time, as your uncle. I am an old-fashioned person, and my ideas, I have +been told, are those of my class. But observation has impressed it upon +me that success in any scheme depends upon each person being fit for +their place. Yesterday, in the interests of you both, I should have +refused my consent. To-day, I give it with pleasure, feeling sure I am +handing over to Lord Bantock a wife in every way fit for her position. +[_Kissing her_, _he gives her to Vernon_, _who grips his hand_. _He +returns to the table_.] Breakfast, your ladyship, is quite ready. + +_They take their places at the table_. _Fanny takes off her hat_, +_Bennet takes off the covers_. + + [CURTAIN] + + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM*** + + +******* This file should be named 2829-0.txt or 2829-0.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/8/2/2829 + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive +specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this +eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook +for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, +performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given +away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks +not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the +trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. + +START: FULL LICENSE + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full +Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at +www.gutenberg.org/license. + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or +destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your +possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a +Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound +by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the +person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph +1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this +agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the +Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection +of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual +works in the collection are in the public domain in the United +States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the +United States and you are located in the United States, we do not +claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, +displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as +all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope +that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting +free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm +works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the +Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily +comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the +same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when +you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are +in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, +check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this +agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, +distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any +other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no +representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any +country outside the United States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other +immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear +prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work +on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, +performed, viewed, copied or distributed: + + This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and + most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no + restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it + under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this + eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the + United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you + are located before using this ebook. + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is +derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not +contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the +copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in +the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are +redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply +either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or +obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm +trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any +additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms +will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works +posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the +beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including +any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access +to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format +other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official +version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site +(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense +to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means +of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain +Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the +full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +provided that + +* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed + to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has + agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid + within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are + legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty + payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in + Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg + Literary Archive Foundation." + +* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all + copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue + all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm + works. + +* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of + any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of + receipt of the work. + +* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than +are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing +from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The +Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm +trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project +Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may +contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate +or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or +other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or +cannot be read by your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium +with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you +with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in +lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person +or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second +opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If +the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing +without further opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO +OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of +damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement +violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the +agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or +limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or +unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the +remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in +accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the +production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, +including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of +the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this +or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or +additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any +Defect you cause. + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of +computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It +exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations +from people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future +generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see +Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at +www.gutenberg.org Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by +U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the +mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its +volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous +locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt +Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to +date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and +official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact + +For additional contact information: + + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND +DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular +state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To +donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project +Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be +freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and +distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of +volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in +the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not +necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper +edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search +facility: www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + |