f.a.n.n.y. 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 pa.s.s the lodge.
f.a.n.n.y. Who"s at the lodge now?
ERNEST. Mother.
f.a.n.n.y. d.a.m.n!
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 pa.s.sing this way," and would like to see you.
f.a.n.n.y [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.
f.a.n.n.y [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 gla.s.s of beer and sending him away again.
f.a.n.n.y [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.
f.a.n.n.y. 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.]
f.a.n.n.y [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 ta.s.selled cane. His gloves are large and bright. He is smoking an enormous cigar.]
BENNET. Mr. Newte.
f.a.n.n.y [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 pa.s.sing this way -
f.a.n.n.y [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 f.a.n.n.y. 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!
f.a.n.n.y. 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?
f.a.n.n.y. 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.
f.a.n.n.y [laughs]. Oh, you poor fellow!
NEWTE. Caught the first train to Melton, and came on by cart.
What"s the trouble?
f.a.n.n.y. 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 -
f.a.n.n.y. 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?
f.a.n.n.y. 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.
f.a.n.n.y. What do you mean--"not officially"?
NEWTE. He never told me.
f.a.n.n.y. 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!
f.a.n.n.y. 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 gla.s.s 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 s.n.a.t.c.hes 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 -