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LORD LOAM. How do you do, Thomas?
(The first footman gives him a reluctant hand.)
CRICHTON. John.
LORD LOAM. How do you do, John?
(ERNEST signs to LORD BROCKLEHURST, who hastens to him.)
ERNEST (introducing). Brocklehurst, this is John. I think you have already met on the door-step.
CRICHTON. Jane.
(She comes, wrapping her hands miserably in her ap.r.o.n.)
LORD LOAM (doggedly). Give me your hand, Jane.
CRICHTON. Gladys.
ERNEST. How do you do, Gladys. You know my uncle?
LORD LOAM. Your hand, Gladys.
(He bestows her on AGATHA.)
CRICHTON. Tweeny.
(She is a very humble and frightened kitchenmaid, of whom we are to see more.)
LORD LOAM. So happy to see you.
FISHER. John, I saw you talking to Lord Brocklehurst just now; introduce me.
LORD BROCKLEHURST (at the same moment to ERNEST). That's an uncommon pretty girl; if I must feed one of them, Ernest, that's the one.
(But ERNEST tries to part him and FISHER as they are about to shake hands.)
ERNEST. No you don't, it won't do, Brocky. (To Miss FISHER.) You are too pretty, my dear. Mother wouldn't like it. (Discovering TWEENY.) Here's something safer. Charming girl, Brocky, dying to know you; let me introduce you. Tweeny, Lord Brocklehurst--Lord Brocklehurst, Tweeny.
(BROCKLEHURST accepts his fate; but he still has an eye for FISHER, and something may come of this.)
LORD LOAM (severely). They are not all here, Crichton.
CRICHTON (with a sigh). Odds and ends.
(A STABLE-BOY and a PAGE are shown in, and for a moment no daughter of the house advances to them.)
LORD LOAM (with a roving eye on his children). Which is to recite?
(The last of the company are, so to say, embraced.)
LORD LOAM (to TOMPSETT, as they partake of tea together). And how are all at home?
TOMPSETT. Fairish, my lord, if 'tis the horses you are inquiring for?
LORD LOAM. No, no, the family. How's the baby?
TOMPSETT. Blooming, your lordship.
LORD LOAM. A very fine boy. I remember saying so when I saw him; nice little fellow.
TOMPSETT (not quite knowing whether to let it pa.s.s). Beg pardon, my lord, it's a girl.
LORD LOAM. A girl? Aha! ha! ha! exactly what I said. I distinctly remember saying, If it's spared it will be a girl.
(CRICHTON now comes down.)
LORD LOAM. Very delighted to see you, Crichton.
(CRICHTON has to shake hands.)
Mary, you know Mr. Crichton?
(He wanders off in search of other prey.)
LADY MARY. Milk and sugar, Crichton?
CRICHTON. I'm ashamed to be seen talking to you, my lady.
LADY MARY. To such a perfect servant as you all this must be most distasteful. (CRICHTON is too respectful to answer.) Oh, please do speak, or I shall have to recite. You do hate it, don't you?
CRICHTON. It pains me, your ladyship. It disturbs the etiquette of the servants' hall. After last month's meeting the pageboy, in a burst of equality, called me Crichton. He was dismissed.
LADY MARY. I wonder--I really do--how you can remain with us.
CRICHTON. I should have felt compelled to give notice, my lady, if the master had not had a seat in the Upper House. I cling to that.
LADY MARY. Do go on speaking. Tell me, what did Mr. Ernest mean by saying he was not young enough to know everything?
CRICHTON. I have no idea, my lady.
LADY MARY. But you laughed.
CRICHTON. My lady, he is the second son of a peer.
LADY MARY. Very proper sentiments. You are a good soul, Crichton.
LORD BROCKLEHURST (desperately to TWEENY). And now tell me, have you been to the Opera? What sort of weather have you been having in the kitchen? (TWEENY gurgles.) For Heaven's sake, woman, be articulate.