2/^42 r *»OSX FREE •mtjkj £iO^^ Lin Great Britain only J OU. i r, .%^H'S ACTING EDITION NEW DfiSCR IFTIVE CATALOGUE SENT POST FREE 11 NO BOOICB EXCHANOEiS 6,000 Plays, 10,000 Recitations. Send for Catalogue Post Free. The Guide to Selecting Plays is now published annuallv entirely revised and brought up-to-date. Price " i Class __:22i:^iii Book • Ci/^^o Gopyriglit W. COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. ■^(i/< ■2.V 7 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM A Quite Possible Play in Four Acts JEROME K:^JER0ME Copyright, 1909, by Samuel French. Ltd New York SAMUEL FRENCH PUBLISHER 16 WEST 22ND STREET London SAMUEL FRENCH Lid 26 Southampton Street STRAND T- ©C/.D 17-A-iC Produced at the Aldwych Theatre, London, on October 14th, 1908, with the following cast : — CHARACTERS Fanny Vernon Wetherell, Lord Bantock . (her Husband) Martin Bennet . . (her Butler) Susannah Bennet (her Housekeeper) Jane Bennet . . . (her Maid) Ernest Bennet (her second Footman) Honoria Bennet (her Still-room Maid) The Misses Wetherell | ^^^ ^!^ - \ \ marriage ) Dr. Freemantle (her local Medical Man) " Our Empire " — Miss Fanny Ward Mr. Leslie Faber Mr. Chcs. Cartwnght Miss Kate Phil lips Miss Alma Murray Mr. Benedict Miss Alabel Gc.rden Miss Adela Measo^ Miss Carlotta Addison Mr. Chas. Sugden, England . Scotland . Ireland Wales . Canada Australia . New Zealand Africa . India . Newfoundland Malay Archipelago Straits Settlements herquondam ' Companion M iss Miss Miss Miss Miss Miss Miss Miss Miss Miss Miss Miss Esme Berijiger Jean Harkness Barbara Viviat Lydia Flopp Margaret Hastings Miriam Miner Vera Beringer May Straker Marion Ashley Patsy McCullock Stewart Dawson Daisv Markhdm George P. Newte . her former 1 Business Manager [Mr. John W. Dean The Scene takes place in Fanny's boudoir, Bantock Hall, Rutlandshire. Any costumes or wigs required in the production of this play may be hired or purchased reas jnably from Messrs. C. H. Fox, Ltd., 27 Welhngton Street, Strand, London. " FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM " ACT I Scene. — Bantock Hall, Ridlandshire. Her boudoir. A handsome, well-lighted apartment in the south-west wing of the castle, furniture and decorations of the Louis XIV period. A deep hay, lighted by three high windows facing the south-west, occupies the right of the stage. The door at back R. of fireplace leads to Lord Bantock's apartments. The door in l. wing leads through her ladyship's dressing-room into her ladyship's bedroom. A large Adams fireplace, in which a cheerful wood fire burns, occupies the back c. Over it is the full length portrait of Constance, first Lady Bantock, by Hoppner. The furniture is handsome but simple — French with the exception of a small upright piano. A large desk faces the three windows, a round table between it and the fire- place. A settee, backed by a screen, is L., at an angle to the fireplace. Comfortable chairs are in plenty. A profusion of early spring fioivers decor- ates the room. Electric lighting is from sconces placed round the walls. The Time is sunset of an early spring day. A golden light fills the room. [The rising of the curtain discovers the Two Miss Wetherells — two sweet old ladies u'ho have grown so much alike it injoidd be difficult for a stranger to tell the one from the other. The hair of both is white, they are dressed much alike, both in some soft lavender coloured material, mixed with soft lace. The French clock on the mantelpiece sounds in soft musical note six strokes.) 8 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. Elder (hidden in the deep bay of the window). Such a lovely sunset, dear. (The Younger Miss Wetherell, her back towards the spectator, is arranging flowers on the round table R.c. She looks round, goes across to the window. Her sister comes back a little into the room. The Two Old Ladies stand holding each other's hands, looking out.) Younger. 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 possibty be a little too sunny to quite suit her ? Elder (not at first understanding). How, dear, too sun (She looks and grasps the meaning.) You mean — you think that perhaps she — does that sort of thing ? Younger. Well, dear, one is always given to under- stand that they do — women — ladies of her — profession. Elder. It seems to me so wicked ; painting God's work. Younger. We mustn't judge hardty, dear. Be- sides, dear, we don't know yet that she does. Elder. Perhaps she's young, and hasn't com- menced it. I fancy it's only the older ones that do it. Younger. He didn't mention her age, I remember. Elder. No, dear, but I feel she's young. Younger. I do hope she is. We may be able to mould her. Elder. We must be very sympathetic. One can accomplish so much with sympathy. Younger. We must get to understand her. (.4 sudden thought.) Perhaps, dear, we may get to like her. Elder [seems doubtful). We might try, dear. Younger. For Vernon's sake. The poor boy seems so much in love with her. We must FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 9 (Enter Bennet l. c. He is the ideal butler.) Bennet. Doctor Freemantle. I have shown him into the library. Younger. Thank you, Bennet. Will 3 ou please tell him that we shall be down in a few minutes. I must just finish these flowers. (She returns to the table.) Elder. Why not ask him to come up here. We could consult him — about the room. He always knows everything. Younger. A good idea. Please ask him, Bennet, if he W'Ould mind coming up to us here. (Bennet, who has been attending to the needs of the fire, turns to go.) Oh, Bennet! [He stops and turns.) You will remind Charles to put a footw armer in the carriage ! Bennet. I will see to it myself. Younger (as Bennet goes out). Thank you, Bennet. (To her sister.) One's feet are always so cold after a railway journey. Elder. I've been told that, nowadays, they heat the carriages. Younger. 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. Elder. I feel so sure she loves Hlies. Younger. And they are so appropriate to a bride. So (Enter, announced by Bennet, Dr. Freemantle. He is a dapper little man, clean shaven, with quick brisk ways.) Dr. F. (he shakes hands with the Two Old Ladies). \^ ell, anJ how are we this afternoon ? (He feels the 10 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. pulse of the Younger.) Steadier. Much steadier ! (Of the Elder.) Nervous tension greatly relieved. Younger. vShe has been sleeping much better. Dr. F. (he is standing between them. He pats the hand of the Elder.) Excellent ! Excellent ! Elder. She ate a good breakfast this morning. Dr. F. (he pats the hand of the Yovkger). 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 iVurelius, " to the things with which thy lot has been cast. Whatever happens '* Younger. You see, doctor, it was all so sudden. Dr. F. 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 Hke — hke brave, sweet gentle\^•omen. (He presses their hands.) (They are both wiping away a tear.) When do you expect them ? Elder. To-night, by the half-past eight train. We had a telegram this morning from Dover. Dr. F. L'm ! 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 tradi- tions. BrilHant idea, brilliant ! (They are smiling with pleasure.) Elder. 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 excep- tionally sunny room. Younger. And these actresses — if all one hears is true FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 11 [The dying sun is throwing his last beams across the room.) Dr. F. Which, thank God, it isn't. [He seats him- self in the large easy chair.) {The Two Ladies sit side by side on the 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 alm^ost permanent smile, displaying an admirably preserved and re- markably 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. Younger {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. Elder. And the French public is so critical. Dr. F. {drily). Um ! I was thinking rather of her cleverness in '' landing " poor Vernon. The lad's not a fool. Elder. We must do her justice. I think she was really in love with him. Dr. F. {still more drily). Yery possibly. Most cafe chantant singers, I take it, would be — ^with an English lord. {He laughs, and settling himself more comfortably, takes in his hand a vase of flowers, is smelling them.) Elder. You see, she didn't know he was a lord. Dr. F. {sits up). Didn't know ? Younger. No. She married him, thinking him CO be a plain Mr. Wetherell, an artist. Dr. F. {he puts back the vase — pushes it from him). Where d'ye get all that from ? 12 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. Elder. From Vernon himself. You've got his last letter, dear. (She has opened her chatelaine bag.) Oh, no, I've got it myself. Younger. He's not going to break it to her till they reach here this evening. Elder (she reads). Yes. " I shall not break it to her before we reach home. We were married quietly at the Hotel de Ville, and she has no idea I am anything else than plain Vernon James Wetherell, a fellow-countr^^man of her own, and a fellow artist. The dear creature has never even inquired whether I am rich or poor." Hike her for that. Dr. F. You mean to tell me (He jumps tip with his hands in his jacket pockets ; he walks to and fro.) I suppose it's possible. Elder. You see, she isn't the ordinary class of music-hall singer. Dr. F. I should say not. Elder. She comes of quite a good family. Younger. Her uncle was a bishop. Dr. F. Bishop ? Of where ? Elder {with the letter). He says he can't spell it. It's somewhere in New Zealand. Dr. F. Do they have bishops over there ? Younger. Well, evidently. Elder. Then her cousin is a judge. Dr. F. In New Zealand ? Elder (still referring to the letter). No — in Ohio. Dr. F. Seems to have been a somewhat scattered family. Younger. People go a'oout so much nowadays. (Enter Mrs. Bennet, the housekeeper.) Mrs. B. (she is about to speak to the Misses W. ; sees the Doctor). Good-afternoon, doctor. Dr. F. Afternoon, Mrs. Bennet. Mrs. B. (she turns to the Misses W., her watch in her hand). I was thinking of having the fire lighted in her ladyship's bedroom. It is half-past six. FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 13 Elder. You are always so thoughtful. She may be tired. Mrs. B. If so, everything will be quite ready. (She goes out L., closing door.) Dr. F. What do they think about it all— the Bennets ? You have told them ? Younger. We thought it better. You see, one hardly regards them as servants. They have been in the family so long. Three generations of them. Elder. Really, since our poor dear brother's death, Bennet has been more hke the head of the house than the butler. Younger. Of course, he doesn't say much. Elder. It is her having been on the stage that they feel so. Younger, You see, they have always been a religious family. Elder. Do you know, I really think they feel it more than we do. I found Peggy crying about it yesterday in the scullery. Dr. F. (he has been listening with a touch of amuse- ment). Peggy Bennet ? Younger. Yes. Charles Bennet's daughter. Dr. F. Happen to have a servant about the place who isn't a Bennet ? Younger. No, no, I don'i really think we have. Oh, yes — that new^ girl Mrs. Bennet engaged last week for the dairy. What is her name ? Elder. Arnold. Younger. Ah, yes, Arnold. Dr. F. Ah ! Elder. I think she's a cousin, dear. Younger. Only a second cousin. Dr. F. 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 14 P\4NNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 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.) Elder. He always cheers one up. Younger. He's so alive. (Re-enter Mrs. Bennet from l. 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. B. I have come to the conclusion — looking at the thing from every point of view — that Jane would be the best selection. Younger. Jane ! (She turns to her sister.) Elder. But does she understand the duties ? Mrs. B. 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. Younger. That is true, dear. Mrs. B. 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.) Younger. Who is that hammering in her lady- ship's bedroom. Mrs. B. 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 W. look at one another, but do not speak.) I take it, dinner will be at half-past seven, as usual ? Elder. Yes, Mrs. Bennet, thank you. They will FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 15 not be here till about nine. They will probably prefer a httle supper to themselves. (Mrs. Bennet goes out c.) (The Misses W. are looking at one another again. The hammering recommences.) Younger {she hesitates a moment, then goes to the open door and calls). Bennet — Bennet ! (She returns and waits.) (Bennet enters.) 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, speak- ing to her, as it were, from the wall Younger. 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 com- pelled to reject, purely for that reason. Elder. We felt sure we could trust to your discretion. Younger. 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 pause. The Two Ladies, feeling a little helpless, again look at one another.) Elder. We must be very sympathetic. Younger. 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. Younger. No, Bennet, oh no! I should leave them up. Very thoughtful of you indeed. 16 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. Bennet. It seemed to me one ought to lea\'e no stone unturned. (He goes out L., closes the door.) Younger [after a pause). I do hope she'll like the Bennets. Elder. I think she will— after a time — when she is used to them. Younger. I am so anxious it should turn out well. Elder. 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 laughs.) I always envied you your hair. Younger. 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. Elder. He was such a big boy for his age. Younger. 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, followed by Fanny, has entered noiselessly. Fanny remains near the door hidden by the screen — Vernon has crept forward. At this point the Old Ladies become aivare that some- body is in the room. They are a little alarmed.) 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.) FANNY AND THE f^ERVANT PROBLEM. 17 Younger. Vernon ! Elder. My dear boy ! Younger. But we didn't expect you- Elder. And your wife, dear ? Vernon. She's here ! Elder. Here ? (Fanny, from behind 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, r. of fireplace, he turns on the electric light.) (Fanny is discovered, having slipped out from behind the screen. There is a pause. Vernon standing near the fi.re, watches admiringly.) Fanny. Hope you are going to Hke me. Younger. My dear, I am sure we shall. Elder. 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 Old Ladies, laughing, kiss her.) Fanny. 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. (Vernon laughs again.) Younger. We were afraid — you know, dear, boys — (she looks at him and smiles) — sometimes fall in love with women much older than themselves — especially women.— (She grows confused — 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 ? B 18 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. Vernon (laughs). Upon my word, I never can tell. Younger. Vernon ! And you know I was always your favourite ! Elder. Dear ! Vernon. Then this is Aunt Alice. Younger. 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 }'ou in pink. (She laughs.) Is this the drawing-room ? Vernon. Your room, dear. Fanny. I Hke a room where one can stretch one's legs. (She walks across it.) A little too much desk. Elder. It belonged to the elder Pitt. Fanny. Um ! Suppose we must find a corner foi it somewhere. That's a good picture. Younger. It is by Hoppner. Fanny (she turns to Vernon). One of your artist friends ? Vernon. Well — you see, dear, that's a portrait of my great grandmother — painted from Hfe. Fanny (she whistles). I am awfully ignorant on some topics. One good thing, I always was a quick study. Not a bad-looking woman. Elder. We are very proud of her. She was the first Vernon (hastily). We will have her history some other time. Younger (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, they varying the work with lover-like pecks and twitterings.) FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 19 Elder [she holds up her hands in astonishment). Tea in the train ! Younger. 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 ! Elder. Then did you walk from the station, dear ? Fanny. Didn't it seem a long way ? {She laughs tip into his face.) He was so bored (Vernon laughs.) Younger. I had better tell [She is going towards the hell.) 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 ? (He laughs.) Did you get all my letters ? Younger. I think so, dear. (Fanny is sitting in the easy chair r.c. Vernon seats himself on the arm.) Fanny. 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.) Elder. 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 Fanny. The excitement. Do you know what 20 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. an actress's life always seemed to me like ? Dancing on a tight rope with ever^^body 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. Younger. It must be a hard hfe for a woman. Elder. Especially for any one 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. Younger. I suppose your family were very much opposed to it ? (Vernon has changed his position. He is standing with his hack to the fire) Fanny. My family ? Hadn't any 1 Elder. No family ? (Bennet enters L.c.) Fanny. No, you see, I was an only child. My father and mother both died before I was fourteen. (Bennet at sound of Fanny's voice suddenly stops — hidden behind the screen.) YoitNGER. But your uncle ? Fanny. Oh, him ! It was to get away from him and all that crew that I went on the stage. Elder. 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 for FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 21 (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 ivords die away from her tongue. Ver- non has turned away and put a log on the fire, and so has not seen her expression — only hears her sudden silence. He looks up and sees Bennet, who has moved a feiv steps further down.) 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 hack is towards the other three. Fanny only sees his face.) Bennet. We shall endeavour to do our duty to her ladyship. (He turns to Yernon.) 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 b}^ the side door. [Laugh- ing.) Has the luggage come ? Bennet. It has just arrived. It was about that I came to ask. I could not understand [The Misses W. have also risen. Fanny's speechless amazement is attributed by them and Vernon to natural astonishment at discovery of his rank.) Younger. You will be wanting a quiet talk together. We shall see you at dinner. Vernon. What time is dinner ? 22 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. Younger. Half-past seven. [To Fanny.) But don't you hurry, dear. I will tell cook to delay it a little. [She kisses her.) Elder. 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 out r.c.) Fanny (l.). 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.) (He goes to her.) 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 ? (He leans over her, laughing.) 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. FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 23 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 f amity — I've got a confession to make to you, dear. I made inquiries about your family be- fore 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 re-enters. Vernon moves a feiv steps away from her. Fanny stands with her face turned towards the fire.) 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.) 24 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. (Vernon sees that Bennet is occupied, so he steals a kiss from the unresponsive Fanny and goes out r. c.) (At the sound of the closing of the door, Fanny looks round, goes to the door through which Vernon has just passed, listens a moment, then returns to centre of room. 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 ? Somethmg 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. A nd who you were. His lord- ship, 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 hursts out). That ends it ! I shall tell him ! I shall teU him this very moment. (She crosses.) 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 I shall tell him and you'll only have yourself to blame. He loves me— he FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 25 loves me for myself. I shall tell him the whole truth, and ask him to give you all the sack. Bennet (l. c). You're not forgetting that you've already told him once whom you were ? {It stops her. What she really did was to leave the marriage arrangements in the hands of her business agent, George P. Newte. As agent for a music-hall star, he is ideal, hut 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 any- thing 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 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 sits on the settee, she is half crying). Some people would be pleased that their niece had married well. 26 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. Ben NET. 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 do is to see to it that she brings no discredit to his name. (Mrs. Bennet, followed by Jane, 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. B. Not a stranger ! {She has reached a posi- tion from where she sees the girl.) Fanny ! You wicked girl ! Where have 3'ou been all these years ? Bennet {interposing). There will be other oppor- tunities for the discussion of family differences. Just now her ladyship is waiting to dress for dinner Mrs. B. {sneering). Her ladyship ! Jane {also sneering). I think she might have fore- warned us of the honour in store for us. Mrs. B. 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 ? Put in this ridic- ulous position ? Do you think that I am so fond of you all that I couldn't keep away from you at any price ? Mrs. B. 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, rt very young footman, has entered in answer to Ben net's ring of a minute ago. He has come FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 27 forward step by step, staring all the while open- mouthed at Fanny.) {Turning, she sees Ernest 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. B. {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 behavmg yourself or not. Mrs. B. And mind you are punctual. I have appointed Jane to be your maid. Fanny. Jane ! Mrs. B. {in arms). Have you any objections ? Fanny. No, oh no, so long as you're all satisfied. Mrs. B. Remember, you are no longer on the music-hall stage. In dressing for Bantock Hail you will do well to follow her advice. (Bennet, ivho has been waiting with the door in his hand, goes out ; Mrs. B. 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 L.) 28 BRANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. (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 L., then flies across to the desk, seats herself, and begins feverishly to write a telegram. In a whisper, while she is busy at the desk. ) Fanny. Ernie ! (He comes across to her.) Have you still got your bicycle ? Ernest. Yes. Fanny. Could you get this telegi-am 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 l.) Ernest (he continues in a lower voice). "72 a, 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 Voice of Jane (from dressing-room). Are j^ou going to keep me waiting all night ? (They start. Ernest hastily thrusts the telegram into his breast pocket.) FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 29 Fanny. Coming, dear, coming. Not a word to any one ! [She hurries him out of door L.c, closes it behind him.) Merely been putting the room, a bit tidy. {She is flying round collecting her outdoor garments, etc.), Thought it would please you. So sorry if I've kept you waiting. {With a pile of clothes in her arms she is crossing l.) (Jane has appeared at door.) After you, dear. (Jane goes out again. Fanny, with her pile of luggage, follows. ) Curtain, ACT II ScE^E.— The same, except that the screen behind the settee has been removed. Time. Morning. The sun is streaming into the room. [In Act I the beams fait down stage. They now fall up stage.) [The clock strikes eleven. On the last stroke the door opens. Dr. Freemantle enters, shown in by Bennet, who follows him.) Dr. F. {talking as he enters). Wonderful. Wonder- ful. I don't really think I ever remember so fine a spring. Bennet [he is making up the fire). I m airaid we shall have to pay for it later on. Dr. F. [by the window). I expect so. Law ol the universe, you know, Bennet, law of the universe. Everything in this w^orld has got to be paid for. Bennet. Except trouble. (Doctor laughs.) The Times ? (He hands it to him.) ^ ^ Dr. F. Thanks. Thanks. [Seats himself.) Wont be long— his lordship, ^^ill he ? Bennet. I don't think so. I told him you would be here about eleven. Dr. F. Urn— what do you think of her ? Bennet. Of— of her ladyship ? Dr. F. What's she Hke ? (They have sunk their voices.) Bennet. Well, it might have been worse. Dr. F. Ah! There's always that consolation, isn't there ? FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 31 Bennet. I think her ladyship — with management — may turn out very satisfactory. Dr. F. You Hke her ? Bennet. At present — I must say for her — she appears wilUng to be taught. Dr. F. And you think it v\ ill last ? Bennet. I think her ladyship appreciates the peculiarity of her position. I will tell the Miss Wetherells you are here. Dr. F. 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 l. opens, and Fanny enters. Her dress is a wonderful con- trast 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. F. (rises — a pause). I beg pardon, have I the pleasure of seeing Lady Bantock ? Fanny. Yes. Dr. F. 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. F. (a little puzzled). Not at all. Fanny (crosses, and closes the door l. c, returns). \\'on't — won't you be seated ? (She sits L.) Dr. F. Thanks. (He sits r.) Howe's the head- ache ? Fanny. Oh, it's better. Dr. F. Ah! (A silence.) 32 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 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. F. My dear 3'^oung lady, it's charming. You couldn't be anything else, I Fanny. Thank you. Dr. F. I merely meant that — well, I was not ex- pecting anything so dehghtfully demure. Fanny. That's the idea — "seemly." The Lady Bantocks have always been " seemly ? " [She puts it as a question.) Dr. F. [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. F. God bless m}^ 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. F. (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. F. (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 — below her.) Because I'm going to be confidential. You don't mind, do you ? Dr. F. (seating himself). My dear. I take it as the FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 33 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. F. [doubtfully). Well Fanny. We'll say samt — or else I'm — the other thing. Dr. F. (looks at her with a smile). Do you know, I think you could be. Fanny. It's not a question about which there is any doubt. Dr. F. 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. F. It is awkward. Fanny. I thought I would go on being an angel. Dr. F. Saint. Fanny. Saint — till — well, till it became physically impossible to be a saint any longer. Dr. F. And then ? Fanny [she rises, crosses, turns to him with a gesture of half-comic, half-tragic despair). Well, then I can't help it, can I ? Dr. F. 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. [Pause — he rises, goes to her.) What are you afraid of ? Fanny [she changes her tone — the talk becomes serious). You've known Vernon all his life ? Dr. F. 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. F. a man it pays to be perfectly frank with. c 34 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. Fanny (moves towards windon)). It's a very old family, isn't it ? Dr. F. Old ! Good Lord, no ! First Lord Ban- tock was only Vernon's great grandfather. That is the woman that did it all. (He is looking at the Hoppner.) Fanny (she has also turned). How do you mean ? Dr. F. 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. F. 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 hursts into the room l. c. 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 /o Fanny, kisses her.) Good-morning, dear. How have you been getting on together, you two ? Has she been talking to you ? Dr. F. Oh, yes. Vernon. Doesn't she talk well ? I say, what have you been doing to 37ourself ? Fanny. Jane — thought this style — (uith a gesture) — more appropriate to Lady Bantock. Vernon. I'm ! Wonder if she's right ? (To the Doctor.) What do you think ? Dr. F. / 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, FANT^Y AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 35 good, faithful souls, all of them. But they must understand that you are mistress. Fanny [she seizes eagerly at this 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. F.) Don't 3^ou think it would come better from him. ? Dr. F. (laughs). I'm afraid you'll have to do it 3^ourself. Vernon. You see, dear, it might hurt them, com- ing from me. It would seem Hke 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 (that hope fails her). 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. (Enter the Misses Wetherell. They are dressed for driving. They exchange greetings with the Doctor.) Fanny. You know you promised to obey. [Tickles his nose with a flower.) 36 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. Vernon (laughing — to the Doctor). You see what it is to be married ? Dr. F. (laughs). Very trying. Vernon (turning to the Old Ladies) . Fanny isn't coming with us. Younger (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. Younger. 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). Don't you get betting. Elder. 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 talk- ing). Can we give you a lift ? Dr. F. Well, you might as far as the Vicarage. Good-bye, Lady Bantock. Fanny (shaking hands). Good-b^-e, Doctor. Vernon. Sure you won't be lonely ? Fanny (laughs). Think I can't exist an hour with- out you ? Mr. Conceited ! Vernon (laughs and kisses her). Come along. (He takes the Doctor and his Younger Aunt towards the door.) Elder (who is folloimng last). I like you in that frock. ¥ h.'^^Y (laughs) . So glad. It's Ernest who attends to the fires, isn't it ? Elder. 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 liver. Fanny. Mind it wins. (She listens a moment — FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 37 closes door, comes hack 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 (Enter Ernest.) Is that you, Ernest ? Ernest. Yes. Fanny. Shut the door — sure it went off last night, that telegram ? Ernest. Yes. Fanny (to herself). 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 (to herself). 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 at the words " I'll go. and meet him " 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 38 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 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 \\ould 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 (jumps up). Look here, uncle, you and I have got to understand one another. I ma}' 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. New^te's visit. Fanny. There will be no need to. Mr. New^te, 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 ijito the " Merry Widow Waltz," or some other equally inappropriate hut well-known melody.) (Then en.er 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 springs up and greets him. They are evi- dently good friends.) Fanny. HuUoa, George I FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 39 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 mysell {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 lad\'Ship is suffering from a headache. If I might suggest — a little less boisterousness. {He goes out.) {A silence. Newte {r.), suddenly subdued, and FA}:iiiY (l.) look at one another.) Newte. 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 ? {Sits upper end of settee.) 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 w^ere you. 40 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. Newte. Such a long time since I was at Court. (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 \\'hat I waiS 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 (impatient) . Oh, light it — anything you hke that will help you to get along. Newte (hites 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 3'ou 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 httle 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 — (nith a wave towards the door) — that wanted to send 3'ou off with a glass of beer and a flea in your ear — that's my uncle. The FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 41 woman that opened the lodge gate for you is my Aunt Amelia. The carrotty-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 Hke this ! My owr 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 ! What is it ? What is it ? 42 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. (HONORIA Bennet, the " still-room " maid, has entered L. c. She is a pert young minx of about Fanny's own age.) HoNORiA. Merely passing through. Sorry to have excited your ladyship. {Goes out L.) 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 door L.) 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 on the chair r. he has just vacated — 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 — 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 3^our 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 AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 43 Fanny. That's aU 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 some- thing. A man doesn't marry without knowing just a little about his wife's connexions. Wouldn't be reasonable to expect him. You'd never told me any- thing — never would ; except that you'd Hked 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 hack — staring at him). A what ? Newte. A bishop. Bishop of Waiapu, New Zealand. Fanny. Wh}^ 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 (the hitter laugh — then). 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 remem- 44 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. bered him. Met him when I was over there in ninety-eight — damn him ! [A silence.) 1^'AN'NY (she rises). Well, nothing else for it ! Got to tell him it was all a pack of Ues. Not blaming you, old boy — my fault. Didn't know he \\as 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 telHng 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 ser- vants ? 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 xvith 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 Ues he can find out for himself. Newte. // he ivants 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 gentle- men had ever heard of you. // he hadn't been careful not to send them. He \^•asn't marrying you with the idea of strengthening his family connexions. 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 every one entitled to ask questions. Can't you under- FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 45 stand ? Somebody, in the interests of everybody, had to tell a He. 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 advantage to themselves, 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 \\Q had toldhim. at the beginning that he was propos- ing 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 w^anted him — you took a fancy to him from the beginning. He's a nice boy, and there's something owing to him. (// ts nis trump card, and he knows it.) (Fanny winces.) 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 gentle- woman, 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. 46 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. Fanny. Then am I to live all my life dressed as a charity girl ? Newte. You keep your head and things will gradu- ally 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 connexions 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. [Laughs.) Newte [laughs). Well, it's always been right for you, old girl, ain't it ? Fanny. Yes. You've been a ratthng good friend. [She takes his hands). Almost wish T'd married you instead. \ye'd have been more suited to one another. Newte [shakes his head.) Nothing Hke 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 \\'\\\ ever get me. [She has dropped for a moment into a hroii'n study.) Newte [he turns). I hope so. Fanny [she throivs off her momentary mood ivith 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 j-ou can for my benefit. Good-bye. [He holds out hand.) FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 47 Fanny. You're not going ? You'll stop to lunch ? Newte. Not to-da3'\ 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 al\^ays 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 Uttle 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 hell.) 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 month. 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 draivs herself up) — I'm Lady Bantock, of Bantock Hall, Rutlandshire. It will m.ake her so mad. (Laughs.) Newte (laughs). I will. Fanny. Give them all my love. 48 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. {Enter Ernest l. c.) Oh, Ernest, tell Bennet (Ernest, his eyes and mouth open.) To see that Mr. Newte has some refreshment before he leaves. A glass of champagne and — and some caviare. Don't forget. Good-bye. You'll come again ? Newte. Whenever you want me — and remember — the watchword is " Tact ! " (They are by the door. Ernest is ahead.) Fanny. Yes, I've got the z^^o;'^^ 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 and comes down. Honoria has re-entered from the dressing-room. She looks from the handkerchief still hanging over the keyhole to Fanny.) Honoria. Your lad^-ship's handkerchief ? Fanny. Yes. Such a draught through that key- hole. Yio^ORiA (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 yo^i have done ? Honoria (she draws herself up). I should have made it quite plain from the first, that / was mistress, and that they were my servants. Fanny. You would, you think "RoyiORiA (checking her outburst). But then, dear — you will excuse my speaking plainly — there is a sliglit FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 49 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 — hut only just— successful) . Need we discuss that ? HoNORiA. Well, he was an Irishman, dear, there's no den3'ing it. (Fanny takes a cushion from a chair — with her hack to HoNORiA, she strangles it. Enter Jane l.c. She stands 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 worry- ing yourselves too much about me. Your're too conscientious, all of you. You, in pa^-ticular, Jane, because you know you're not strong. You'll end up vdth a nervous break down. (Enter Mrs. Bennet l. Honoria nips up.) (She turns to her aunt.) I was just saying how anxious I'm getting about Jane. I don't like the look of her 60 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. at all. What she wants is a hoHday. Don't you agree ^^ ith me ? Mrs. B. There will be no hohday, 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. B. Your object is too painfully apparent lor the subject to need discussion. True solicitude for Its would express itself better in greater watchfulness upon your own behaviour. Fanny. Why, what have I done ? {Enter Bennet l. c, followed, unwillingly, by Ernest.) Mrs. B. Your uncle will explain. Bennet. Shut that door. (Ernest does so. They group l. round Bennet — Ernest a little behind. Fanny remains R. Sit down. (Fanny, bewildered, speechless, sits r.) Carry your mind back, please, to the moment ^hen, with the Bradshaw in front of you, you were consider- ing, with the help of j/our 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 chami)agne 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 v.onld ha\e to pass the FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 51 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 — (he darts out the iiuord straight at the hoy) (Ernest instinctively raises his arm.) that he also heard it (A pause to gather solemnity.) You made use of an expression. Fanny. Oh, cut it short — I said " damn." (A shudder passes the Three Women.) 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. B. [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 " surrepti- tiously " beg and pray him to run down by the first train and have a talk with me ; and that Providence was kind enough to yon 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. B. And pray, w'hat tune s/?owW we have been singing if Providence hadn't been so thoughtful of us ? Fanny (she is about to answer, then checks herself, 62 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. and sits again). You take care you don't find out — there's time yet. Mrs. B. We had better leave her. Bennet. Threats, my good girl, will not help you. Mrs. B. (ivith 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 np the hook — turns to the cover, reads), " The Sinner's Manual." (She turns to page 93.) Curtain. 1 ACT III Scene. The same. (lite door l. c. opens. Ernest enters with tea-urn, etc., which he proceeds to add to the other tea arrange- ments on table r. c. He leaves the door open ; through it comes the sound of an harmonium, accompanying the singing of a hymn. The voices come from below. Fanny enters l. She is dressed more cheerfully than in Act II, hut still " seemly." She has a hook 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 miisic ceases.) Fanny. Another prayer meeting ? (Ernest nods.) {With a short laugh.) I do keep 'em busy. Ernest. D'ye know what they call you down- stairs ? Fanny. What ? Ernest. The family cross. Fanny. Fm afraid it's about right. Ernest. What have 3''0U been doing this time ? Swearing again ? Fanny. Worse. Fve 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 Fd given it to old Mother Potts for the rummage sale at the Vicarage. Jane was down there. Bought it in for half a crown. 54 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROl^LEM. Ernest. You are risky. Why, you miglit ha\'e known (Enter Vernon l. c. He is in golfing get-up. He throws his cap on to the settee.) Vernon. Helio, got a cup of tea there ? (Ern-est 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 somev.'here ? 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 " telHng a deUbcrate lie." (Vernon is near the door listening, with his back towards her, or he would sec that she is smiling.) Black sheep, I suppose, to be found in every flock. (Music ceases, Ernest having arrived with the news of Vernon's return.) Vernon (returning to the table, having closed the door, With enthusiasm.). Good old man, you know, Bennet. FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 55 All of them ! So high- principled ! Don't often get servants like that nowadays Fanny. Seems almost selfish, keeping the whole collection to om'selves. Vernon (laughs). Ton 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 *^heir 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 AHce, 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. WeU (laughs) — weU, one hardly marries into one's own kitchen. Fanny. Isn't that rather snobbish ? You say they're more hke friends than servants. They've Hved with your people, side by side, for three generations, doing their dut}/ — honourably. There's never been a slur upon their name. Thej^'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 3^our 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. 56 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. Fanny [she laughs — 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 — (laughs) — 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 (she laughs). 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 compUcated ? Vernon. Not at all. We're just the same. We love to love the woman we love. Fanny (laughs). 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 wiio had been brought up abroad, and w^ho 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 AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 57 Fanny. At. 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 Rennet's Hfe by about ten years. [Laughs.) (Fanny joins him.) 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, Fm told. Vernon (laughs). It would have been a ''nice point," as they say in legal circles. If people had Uked 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. (Enter Bennet. He brings some cut flowers, with the "placing'' of ivhich he occupies himself.) Bennet. I did not know your lordship hadreturned. 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 (he is l., his hack to the room. Very quietly he turns, lets his eyes for a moment meet Fanny's. Then answers as he crosses r.). The last I heard about her was that she was married. 58 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. Vernon (l.) Satisfactorily ? Bennet {arranging flowers r.). Looking at it from her point of view — most satisfactorily. Vernon (laughs). But looking at it from his — more doubtful ? Bennet. vShe was not without her attractions. Her chief faults, I am incUned to think, were those arising from want of discipHne 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 aUve to the duty devolving upon them. Vernon. Um. Sounds a Httle bit like penal servi- tude for the poor girl, the way you put it, Bennet. (Laitghs.) 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 ? Benne r (he lonk^ out through the windou)). Yes, 3^our lordship. Vernon (he takes b his cap). I may be bringing some one back with rrc. (To Fanny, who throughout has remained seated r.C.) Why not put on your hat —come with me ? Fanny (she jumps up, delighted). Shall I ? Bennet. Your ladyship is not forgetting that co-day is Wednesday ? Fanny. What's the odds. There's nobody to call. Everylxxl}^ 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. Perha])s ])etter not. It may cause talk : if, b}' chance, anybody does come. I was forgetting it was Wednesday. FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 5'J (Fanny sits again.) I shan't do anything without consulting you. Good- bye. Fanny. Good-bye. {He goes out. Slams the door.) Bennet. You think it wise, discussing with his lordship the secret history of the Bennet family ? Fanny. What do you mean by telUng him my father was an organ-grinder ? If the British pubhc 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 {n'hite imith sup-pressed 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 unplea- sant one depended upon you. You make it an eas> 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 Hsten 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 60 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 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 n'ant 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 w^as first draw^n towards me. Bennet. Yes. At twenty-two. Boys like un- conventionality. Men don't : they've learnt its true name, vulgarity. Do you think I've stood behind English society for forty \'ears 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 famityof " lackeys " there would be no hope for you. With her blood in your veins the thing can be done. We Bennets — (he draws himself tip) — we serve. We are not lackeys. Fanny. All right. Don't you call my father an organ-grinder. I won't call you lackeys. Unfor- tunately 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 hfe 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-hook 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 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 61 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 begin- ning 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 AmeHa. 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. [She has crossed to window. Stands looking out.) Bennet. Before that time, you will, I shall hope, have learnt sufficient sense to be grateful to us. (He goes out L.c.) Fanny (she turns — walks slowly hack towards the tea-table. Halfway she pauses, and leaning over the back of a chair regards in silence for awhile the portrait of the first Lady Bantock). I do wish I could tell what you were saying. 62 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. (The door opens. The Misses Wetherell come in. They wear the same frocks as in first Act. They pause. Fanny is still gazing at the portrait.) Elder. Don't you notice it, dear ? Younger. Yes. There really is. Elder. 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 ? Younger. It's your expression^ — when you are serious. Fanny (laughs). I must try to be more serious. Elder. It will come, dear. (They take their places side by side on the settee.) Younger (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. Elder (to Fanny). You see, dear, most of the county people are still in town. Fanny (who is pouring out tea — laughs). I'm not grumbling. Elder. Oh, 3-ou'll Hke them, dear. The Crackle- thorpes especially. (To her sister for confirmation.) Bella Cracklethorpe is so clever. Younger. And the Engells. She'll Hke the Engells. All the Engell girls are so pretty. (Fanny brings over two cups of tea.) Thank you, dear. Elder (as she takes her cup — patting Fanny's hand). And they'll Hke you, dear, all of them. Fanny (returning to table). I hope so. Elder. It's wonderful, dear — 3'ou won't mind my saying it ? — how you've improved. (Fanny winces.) Younger. Of course it was such a change for you. FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 63 A.nd 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.) Elder (as she takes a piece). Bennet (she lingers an the name as that of an authority) was saying only yesterday that he had great hopes of you. Younger (Fanny is handing the basket to her). Thank you, dear. Elder. I told Vernon. He was.- so pleased. Fanny (her brows contract. She bites her lip.) Vernon was ? Elder. 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 ? Elder (surprised at the question). Of course, dear. Younger. 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. Elder. We tried it once. But there was nothing for dear Vernon to do. You see, he's so fond of hunting. Younger (to her sister). And then there will be his Parliamentary duties that he will have to take up now. (Fanny rises, abruptly.) Elder. You're not ill, dear ? Fanny. No. Merely felt I wanted some air. (She goes to window.) You don't mind, do you ? (She flings a casement open.) Younger. Not at all, dear. (To her sister.) It is a bit close. 54 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. Elder. One could really do without fires. (Fanny remains by the window.) Younger. If it wasn't for the evenings. Elder. And then, of course, the cold weather might come again. One can never feel safe until {The door opens. Dr. Freemanti.e enters. An- nounced by Bennet. The Old Ladies go to rise. He stops them ) Dr. F. 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 Elder. Hush ! (She points to the window.) Fanny. Younger. Here's Doctor Freemantle. (Fanny comes from the window.) Dr. F. (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 Ladies laugh.) Dr. F. 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 ? (Laughs.) Younger. vShe's a dear girl. Elder. Bennet Fanny (she has crossed to table — is pouring out the Doctor's tea). Oh, mightn't we have a holiday from Bennet ? Dr. F. (laughs). Seems to be having a hoUday himself to-day. Younger. A holiday ? Dr. F. Didn't you know ? Oh, there's an awfully FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 65 swagger party on downstairs. They were all troop- ing in as I came. Younger. I'd no idea he was giving a party. {To Fanny.) Did you, dear ? Fanny (she hands th'3 Doctor his tea). Yes. It's a prayer meeting. The whole family, I expect, has been summoned. Dr. F. a prayer meeting ! Didn't look hke it. Elder. But why should he be holding a prayer meeting ? Fanny (she is about to hand him the cake — wearily). Oh, one of the family Dr. F. And why twelve girls in a van ? Younger. In a van ? (Fanny pauses — the basket in her hand.) Dr. F. One of Hutton's from the Station Hotel — with a big poster pinned on the door : "Our Empire." (Fanny has put doivn the basket. She crosses swiftly — rings a bell.) Younger. 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 , deter- mined tones. She rings again. Then returning to table, hands the plate again to the Doctor.) Won't you take one, doctor. They're not as indigestible as they look. (Laughs.) Dr. F. (i7i common with the Old Ladies, he is be- li'ildered at the changed atmosphere. Helps himself.) Thank you. I hope I (Enter Ernest.) Fanny (she turns to him. 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. E 66 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. Ernest (he is in a slough of doubt and terror). L — ladies ? Fanny. Yes. PI rase try and understand the English language. Has a party of ladies called here this afternoon ? Ernest. There have been some ladies. Thev^ we Fanny. Where are they ? Ernest. They — I Fanny. Send Bennet up to me. Instantly, please. (Ernest, only too glad to he off, stumbles out.) Younger. 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 \\orse for them ? Dr. F. Well, tea, 3^ou know Fanny. I know. (Laughs.) You doctors are all aUke. You all denounce it, but you all drink it. {She hands him the tivo 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 onty 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 3'Our ladyship must have been misinformed. I most certainly ha\'e seen none. Fanny. I have to assume, Bennet, that either Dr. Freemantle or you are teUing lies. (A silence.) FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 67 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 ser- vants' 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. {Both up to this point have spoken with studied quietness. Both feel this is a fight to a finish) 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.) [Her whole manner is changed. A load has been lifted from her. For the first — even if it be for the last time also- -she is going to be mistress in her own house. She turns to the Doctor.) So sorry I had to drag you into it. (With a laugh.) I didn't see how else I was going to floor him. Dr. F. Splendid ! (He grips her hand.) Fanny (she goes to the Old Ladies, who sit bewil- dered, terrified). They won't be here for more than a few minutes — they can't be. I want j^ou to be nice to them — both of you. They are friends of mine. (She speaks in a tone of quiet authority — she turns to the Doctor.) They're the girls I used to act with. We went all over Europe — twelve of us — representing 68 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. the British Empire. (With a laugh.) They are play- ing in London now. Dr. F. 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 timetable 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 ; Td bet upon it. (With a laugh.) She always was as mad as a March hare. Dr. F. (bitsy with the timetable). 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 enters.) Bennet (announces). Our Empire. (Headed by " England," the Girls, laughing, crowding, jostling one another, talking all together, sivoop 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.) Scot, (they also kiss). Your boss told us j-ou'd gone out. Fanny. It was a sHght — misunderstanding ; Ben- net, take away these things, please. And let me have half a dozen lx)ttles of cham])agne. Straits Settlements (a small girl at the back of the crowd — with a shrill voice). Hooray ! Bennet (he is controlling himself icith 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. FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 69 (Bennet, again from habit yields. But his con- trol almost fails him. He takes up the tray of iin- needed tea things from the table.) (In a lower voice.) 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. (With a laugh.) These old family servants Africa (she prides herself on being " quite the lady." A girl with a " highty-tighty " voice.) 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 Httle 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 w^ant us— silly fools. I told 'em you'd just be tickled to death. Fanny (laughing — kisses her). So I am. It \\'as a brilhant idea. (By this time she has kissed or shaken hands with the i^'hole dozen.) I can't introduce you all singly, it would take too long. (She makes a whole- sale affair of it.) My aunts, the Misses Wetherell — Dr. Freemantle. (The Misses W., suggesting two mice being introduced to a party of friendly kittens, standing l., clinging to one another, making an heroic smile, murmur some- thing inaudible.) 70 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. Dr. F. {who is with them, to comfort them — he has got rid of the timetable, discreetly — smiles) . Delighted. England. Charmed. (Some of the Girls, behind her, murmur similar ejaculations.) {To Fanny.) Glad we didn't strike one of your busy days. I say, you're not as dressy as you used to be. '0\v 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 ? (Remem- bering — 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. (Enter Honoria, with glasses on a tray ; Ernest with champagne ; Jane -with eatables ; Bennet imth a napkin. (It is a grim procession.) The Girls are scattered, laughing, talking : Africa to the Misses W. ; a couple to Dr. F. These are all near the settee. Others are by the window. England, Scotland, Wales and Canada are w'ith Fanny, r. c. The hubbub, with the advent of the refreshments, increases. There is a general movement towards the centre.) FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 71 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 crosses to desk to direct operations in a low tone to the Bennets, who take her orders in grim silence and lips tight shut.) England. 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. F. (nods). Glasses not too full. (He crosses — ivhispers 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. F. It's all right. You've got plenty of time, ladies. (The excitement calms.) (To England.) 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. F. (he has his watch in his hand). Quite sure. The station is onty half a mile away. England. Don't let's miss it. Keep your watch in your hand, there's a dear. 72 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 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 re- markably well. She is offering a plate of fruit to Judy.). You're a nice acting manager, 3-0U are. (Wales laughs.) (She finds herself in front of Ireland — 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 Httle 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 speaks so well of us after we're gone. (Laughs.) You'll take another glass of champagne. (They are near desk.) 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. F. (with watch still in his hand). I think, ladies England. Come on, girls. (A general movement.) Fanny, You must all come again — spend a \\'hole 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 AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 73 Fanny. Not at all. (She is shaking hands with the Girls.) It's been so good to see you all again. England. 'Urry up, girls, there's dears. [They have all passed her.) 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.) {She glances round.) 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 r., watching them out.) (Bennet goes down with them.) (Ernest is busy collecting debris. The Misses W. are L., their arms round one another. Dr. F. stands l., looking at Fanny imth an expectant expression. 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.) {Calling down to them.) Good-bye. You've plenty of time. What ? Yes, of course. {Laughs.) All right. Good-bye. {She turns, comes slowly back into the room. She looks at Jane and Honoria, ivhere they stand rigid.) (Honoria makes a movement with her shoulders — takes a step towirds the door.) Fanny. Honoria ! (Honoria stops — slowly turns.) You can take away these glasses. Jane will help you 74 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. (Bennet re-enters.) 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 lad\^ship'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 icith the cause of it. But pig-headed, as all Bennets, her opposition only drives him on). Your ladyship is not forgetting the alterna- tive ? ^The Old Ladies have been watching the argnment much as the babes in the wood might have watched the discussion between the two robbers.) Elder (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 \\\i\\ her ladyship — alone. Younger. Dear ! You will see him ? Fanny. I am sorry. I have not the time. Younger. No. Of course. (Appealing to Besset for mercy.) Her ladyship is tired. To-morrow Fanny (interrupting). Neither to-monow — nor any other day. (Vernon enters, followed by Newte.) (SJic advances to meet them.) You've just missed some old friends of yours. (She shake hard^ with Nfwte.) Vernon. So it seems. We were hoping to have FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 75 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 yom* 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 dojr R.^-to Newte.) Shan't be long. Fanny (c). One moment. (Vernon stops.) I may be able to render the interview needless. Who is mistress of this house ? Vernon (r.). Who is mistress ? Fanny. Who is mistress of your house ? Vernon. Why you are, of course. Fanny. Thank you. (She turns to Bennet, le'ho has remained l.) 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.) (Fanny 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 ? Elder. She is excited. She has had a very trying time. Younger. Bennet didn't Uke the idea of her receiving them. Newte. It was that minx Judy's doing. They'll 76 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. have the rough side of my tongue when I get back — all of them. Vernon. What does she want with Mrs. Bennet ? Elder. I can't think. (Vernon and the Misses W. are standing in a group together. Newte, below them, a little apart. Dr. F. is by himself (l.), an interested spectator, waiting develop- ments. Jane, Honoria and Ernest are still busy about the room.) (Newte, suddenly the whole thing comes to him. His hands go up and his mouth opens. He turns. Mrs. Bennet, folloived by Bennet, enter. Newte sees it is too late. His hands make a gesture of despair. He shrugs his shoulders. Moves aivay farther L. Dr. F. has been watching. He smiles grimly.) Mrs. B. (l.) 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. B. [she has crossed — she takes it). Quite correct. Fanny (she tears out a cheque she has written — hands it to Mrs. B.). You will And 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 stfikes them all dumb.) (She puts the cheque-book back and closes the draiver. She rises.) I'm sorry. There's been a misunder- standing. It's time that it ended. It has been my own fault. (She is c. — to Vernon.) I deceived you about my family Newte. If there's been any deceit Fanny (cuts him short). My scene, please, George. (Newte, knowing her, shrugs his shoulders and returns again in silence.) FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 77 I have no relations outside this country that I know of. My uncle is Martin Bennet, your butler. Mrs. Bennet is my aunt. (Bennet has remained l. Mr:,. B. is r. Jane, HoNORiA and Ernest are just above her r.) 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. {Again a silence. Nobody knoims what to say.) 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 tome, 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. B.) I'm sony. 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 W.) 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. F.) Take them all away. Tell him it wasn't all my fault. (To Newte.) You'll have to stop the 78 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PR0BLE5M. night. There are no more trains. I'll see you in the morning. Good-night. (Bennet has collected his troop. Leads them away. Dr. F., kindly and helphil, takes off Vernon and the Two Old Ladies.) Newte (he grips her hand, and speaks in his short, growling way). Good-night, old girl. [He follows the others out.) (Fanny crosses toivards the windows. Her chief busi- ness is dabbing her eyes. The door closes with a click. She turns. She is R. c. She puts her hand- kerchief away. She looks at the portrait of Constance, first Lady Bantock.) Fanny. 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. The stage dark. Ashes fill the grate. Time. — Early morning. (The door opens softly. Newte steals in. He jumhles 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 ivith 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 for- ward 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 sup- pressed 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.) Elder. We haven't slept all night. (Newte answers with a sympathetic gesture. He is busy getting ready the breakfast.) 80 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. Younger. There's something we want to tell dear Vernon — before he says anything to Fanny. Elder. It's something very important. Newte. We'll have a cup of tea first — to steady our nerves. Younger. 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. Elder. Poor boy ! Younger. If she only hadn't (Dr. Freemantle has entered.) Dr. F. I thought I heard somebody stirring Newte. Hush ! {He indicates doors R. aiid l.) Younger {turning and greeting him). It was so kind of you not to leave us last night. Elder. We were so upset. (Dr. F. pats their hands.) Younger. We hope you slept all right. Dr. F. Excellently. Shall be glad of a shave, that's all. {Laughs.) {Both he and Newte suggest the ivant of one.) Newte (ivho has been officiating). Help yourself to milk and sugar. Dr. F. {who has seated himself). Have the Bennets gone ? Newte. Well, they had their notice all right. {Laughs.) Younger (they have begun to cry). It has been so wrong and foolish of us. We ha\e never learnt to do anything for ourselves. Elder. We don't even kno^^• where our things are. Dr. F. They can't all have gone — the whole twenty-three of them, at a couple of hours' notice. (7^0 Newte.) Haven't seen any of them, have you ? FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 81 Newte. No sign of any of them downstairs. Dr. F. Oh, they must be still here. Not up, I don't suppose. It isn't seven o'clock yet. Younger. But they have all been discharged. We can't ask them to do anything. Elder (to her Sister). And the Grinstones are coming to lunch with the new curate. Vernon asked them on Sunday. Younger. Perhaps there's something cold. Eldzr. Vernon so dislikes a cold lunch. Dr. F. [to Newte). Were you able to get hold of Vernon last night ? Newte [shrugs shoulders) . Waited up till he came in about two o'clock. Merety answered that he wasn't in a talkative mood — brushed passed me and locked himself in. Dr. F. 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. F. Don't know. Of course it will be all over the country. Younger. And dear Vernon is so sensitive. Dr. F. It had to come — the misfortune ^'5 — -^ Newte. The misfortune is that people w^on't keep to their own line of business. ^Vhy did he w^ant 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. F. [he is sitting head of table, between Newte on his right, and the Misses W. 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 w^asn't a fool, he'd be thanking his stars tliat 'twas anything half as respectable, • - :.. . i ^: Lz.s.i1 82 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. Dr. F. 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. Younger. But how can she ? Elper. You see they're married ! Dr. F. (to change the subject). You'll take an egg ? (Newte has been boiling some. He has just served them.) Elder (rejecting it). Thank you. Younger. We're not feeling hungry. Elder. He was so fond of her. Younger. She w^as so pretty. Elder. And so thoughtful. Younger. One would never have known she was an actress. Elder. If only she hadn't (Ben net has entered. Newte is at fireplace. The Old Ladies have their backs to the door. Dr. F., 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. Ben net is again the perfect butler. Yesterday would seem to have been iHped 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. Younger. We are sure you would, Bennet. But you see, under the circumstances, we — we hardly liked to trouble you. FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 83 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, etc., etc.) My duty, Miss Edith, I have never felt to be a trouble to me. Elder. We know, Bennet. You have always been so consciendous. But, of course, after what's happened (They are on the verge of tears again.) Bennet (he is at right hand of table piling up the breakfast things). Keziah requested me to apologize 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. F. Oh, thank you. (Ernest has entered, with some wood, he is going towards the fire.) Bennet (to Ernest). Leave the fire for the pres- ent. Take away this tra}^ (Ernest takes up the tray, and with it goes out.) (Speaking over the heads of the Misses W. 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. He has come down to c). 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 Hke this — as if nothing had happened } (He comes to the table between Dr. F, and the Misses W.) 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 ! 84 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. Bennet. Your bath, Mr. Newte, is quite ready. Newte [as soon as he can recover speech). Never you mind my bath, I want (Vernon enters r. He is pale, heavy-eyed, short in his manner, listless.) Vernon. Good-mornmg — everyb^^dy. 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, le^ho have risen and come to him.) Newte. Can I ha\^e a word with you ? Vernon. A httle later on, if j^ou don't mind, Mr. Newte. (He passes him.) ^ Newte (he is about to speak, changes his mind). All right, go your own way. (Newte goes out.) Dr. F. " Remember," says Marcus Aurelius Vernon. Yes— good old sort, Marcus Aurelius. (He moves aivay likewise from the Doctor. Sits listlessly, r. c.) (Dr. F. stands a moment, smiles resignedly, looks at the Misses W., shrugs his shoulders, and closing the door after him goes out.) (The Misses W. whisper together — look round cauti- ously, steal up behind him, encouraging one another.^ Elder. She's so young. Younger. And so adaptable. Vernon (does not turn round — takes his face in his hands). Ah, it was the deception. FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 85 Younger (she puts her old thin hand on his shoulder). What would you have done, dear, if she had told you — at first ? Vernon (he looks round, takes her hand in his — answers a little brokenly), I don't know. (The Elder is the other side vf him. Her Sister makes a sign to her behind him. She screws her courage up.) Elder. 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 Younger. She danced with George III. Elder. She was a butcher's daughter. Younger. He was quite a Httle butcher. Elder. Of course, as a rule, dear, we never mention it. Younger. We felt you ought to know. (They take each other's hands, on tip-toe, they steal out. Thev close the door softly behind them.) (Vernon rises, takes a few steps toze'ards the zmndow. Turns — glances round at the portrait — draws nearer to it. With his hands in his pockets, stops dead in front of it, contemplates it in silence. A sound comes from Fanny's room. He liste^is, moves away R., still with his hands in his pockets The door opens (l.). Fanny enters. She is dressed for going out. She stands for a moment, the door in her hand. Ver- non turns. She closes the door and comes fonvard.) Vernon (r.). Good-morning. Fanny (l.). 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 ? 86 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. I Fanny. I — I've had something to eat — yes. {She sits lower end of the settee — with a smile.) I'm sorry for what I did last night — although they did deserve it. (Laughs.) I suppose it's a matter that can easily be put right again. Vernon [he is standing r. c.) You have no objec- tion to their staying ? Fanny Why should I ? Vernon (he seats himself over against her). 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 rises, 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 unscrapulous about how she gets it. (5//^ move'^. about the room, touching the flowers, rearranging a cAshion, 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 differ- ence 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 FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 87 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. {She comes up behind him, puts her hands on his shoulders.) I wani you to take them all back again. I want to feel 1 have made as Httle commo- tion in your life as possible. It was just a Httle mistake — and everybody will say how fortunate it was that she took herself off so soon with that — 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 {she has moved away r.). 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 Hkely 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 by the desk.) 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. 88 FAXXY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. Vernon. Oh, I'm not thinking of you. I'm think- ing of myself. I want you. I fell in love with \'0U 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. Brush- ing aside things in his way, he sits on the desk a little below her.) I'm not claiming it as a right ; you can go if 3''ou Uke. You can earn your own living, I know. But you shan't have anybod}- else. You'll be Lady Bantock and nobod}^ 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. / 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 under- stand — those that have got any sense. (Bennet enters with breakfast for two on a tray. He places it on table.) Fanny (she has risen, she goes over to him.) Good- morning, uncle. (She puts up her face. He stares — 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 3'ou give your consent. Vernon. Quite right, Bennet. I ought to have asked for it before. I apologize — will you give your consent to my marriage with your niece ? Fanny (she stays him). One minute. You under- stand what it means. From the moment you give it — if you do give it — I shall be Lad}^ Bantock — your mistress. FANNY AND THE SERVANT PROBLEM. 89 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-da}^ I give it with pleasure, feeling sure I am handing over to Lord Bantock a wife in every way fit for her position. (He kisses her.) (Bennet 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 ike covers.) Curtain. %\ ~ THE PLAYS OF R. C. CARTON. IS. 6d. each. LADY HUNTWORTWS EXPERIMENT, IJBERTY HALL. MR. HOPKINSON. SUNLIGHT AND SHADOIV, THE PLA YS OF H. V. ESMOND, IS. 6d. each. BILLY'S LITTLE LOWE AFFAIR. ONE SUMMER'S DA V. WHEN WE WERE I WENT Y- ONE. WILDERNESS. THE PLAYS OF MADELEINE LUCETTE RYLEY. \%. 6d. each. AN AMERICAN CITIZEN, /EDBURY JUNIOR, MICE AND MEN. THE PLAYS OF OSCAR WH.DE. IS 5d. each. IMPORIANCE OF BEING EARNEST, LADY WINDERMERE'S FAN. LONDON: SAMUEL FRENCH, LIMITED, THE PLAYS OF C. HADDON CHAMBERS IS. 6d. each. THE AWAKENING. CAPTAIN SWIFT, THE IDLER. SIR ANTHONY. TYRANNY OF TEARS, THE PL A YS OF MARK AMBIENT, IS. 6d. each. OH, SUSANNAH/ SNUG LI77LE KINGDOM, THE PLAYS OF ARTHUR LAW, IS. 6d. each. COUNTRY MOUSE, NEW BOY, THE PL A YS OF JEROME K. JEROME. IS. 6d. each. MISS HOBBS. WOODBARROW FARM, BY ANTHONY HOPE. PILKERTON S PEERAGE, LONDON: SAMUEL FRENCH, LIMITED DEC 21 1909 ^THE PLAYS OF ALFRED SUTRO. 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