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.