Fanny and the Servant Problem | Page 7

my word, I never can tell.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Vernon! And you know I was always your favourite!
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Dear!
VERNON. Then this is Aunt Alice.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. No dear, Edith.
[Vernon throws up his hands in despair. They all laugh.]
FANNY. I think I shall dress you differently; put you in blue and you in pink. [She laughs.] Is this the drawing-room?
VERNON. Your room, dear.
FANNY. I like a room where one can stretch one's legs. [She walks across it.] A little too much desk [referring to a massive brass- bound desk, facing the three windows].
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. It belonged to the elder Pitt.
FANNY. Um! Suppose we must find a corner for it somewhere. That's a good picture.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. It is by Hoppner.
FANNY. One of your artist friends?
VERNON. Well--you see, dear, that's a portrait of my great- grandmother, painted from life.
FANNY [she whistles]. I am awfully ignorant on some topics. One good thing, I always was a quick study. Not a bad-looking woman.
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. We are very proud of her. She was the first -
VERNON [hastily]. We will have her history some other time.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL [who understands, signs to her sister]. Of course. She's tired. We are forgetting everything. You will have some tea, won't you, dear?
FANNY. No, thanks. We had tea in the train. [With the more or less helpful assistance of Vernon she divests herself of her outdoor garments.]
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL [she holds up her hands in astonishment]. Tea in the train!
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. We were not expecting you so soon. You said in your telegram -
VERNON. Oh, it was raining in London. We thought we would come straight on--leave our shopping for another day.
FANNY. I believe you were glad it was raining. Saved you such a lot of money. Old Stingy!
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Then did you walk from the station, dear?
FANNY. Didn't it seem a long way? [She laughs up into his face.] He was so bored. [Vernon laughs.]
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. I had better tell--[She is going towards the bell.]
VERNON [he stops her]. Oh, let them alone. Plenty of time for all that fuss. [He puts them both gently side by side on the settee.] Sit down and talk. Haven't I been clever? [He puts his arm round Fanny, laughing.] You thought I had made an ass of myself, didn't you? Did you get all my letters?
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. I think so, dear.
FANNY [she is sitting in an easy-chair. Vernon seats himself on the arm]. Do you know I've never had a love-letter from you?
VERNON. You gave me no time. She met me a month ago, and married me last week.
FANNY. It was quick work. He came--he saw--I conquered! [Laughs.]
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. They say that love at first sight is often the most lasting.
VERNON [he puts his arm around her]. You are sure you will never regret having given up the stage? The excitement, the -
FANNY. The excitement! Do you know what an actress's life always seemed to me like? Dancing on a tight-rope with everybody throwing stones at you. One soon gets tired of that sort of excitement. Oh, I was never in love with the stage. Had to do something for a living.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. It must be a hard life for a woman.
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Especially for anyone not brought up to it.
FANNY. You see, I had a good voice and what I suppose you might call a natural talent for acting. It seemed the easiest thing.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. I suppose your family were very much opposed to it? [Vernon rises. He stands with his back to the fire.]
FANNY. My family? Hadn't any!
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. No family?
Bennet enters. Vernon and Fanny left the door open. He halts, framed by the doorway.
FANNY. No. You see, I was an only child. My father and mother both died before I was fourteen.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. But your uncle?
FANNY. Oh, him! It was to get away from him and all that crew that I went on the stage.
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. It is so sad when relations don't get on together.
FANNY. Sadder still when they think they've got a right to trample on you, just because you happen to be an orphan and--I don't want to talk about my relations. I want to forget them. I stood them for nearly six months. I don't want to be reminded of them. I want to forget that they ever existed. I want to forget -
Bennet has come down very quietly. Fanny, from where he stands, is the only one who sees him. He stands looking at her, his features, as ever, immovable. At sight of him her eyes and mouth open wider and wider. The words die away from her tongue. Vernon has