Fanny and the Servant Problem | Page 4

ELDER MISS WETHERELL. It seems to me so wicked: painting
God's work.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. We mustn't judge hardly, dear.
Besides, dear, we don't know yet that she does.
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Perhaps she's young, and hasn't
commenced it. I fancy it's only the older ones that do it.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. He didn't mention her age, I
remember.
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. No, dear, but I feel she's young.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. I do hope she is. We may be
able to mould her.
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. We must be very sympathetic.
One can accomplish so much with sympathy.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. We must get to understand her.

[A sudden thought.] Perhaps, dear, we may get to like her.
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL [doubtful]. We might TRY, dear.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. For Vernon's sake. The poor
boy seems so much in love with her. We must -
Bennet has entered. He is the butler.
BENNET. Doctor Freemantle. I have shown him into the library.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Thank you, Bennet. Will you
please tell him that we shall be down in a few minutes? I must just
finish these flowers. [She returns to the table.]
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Why not ask him to come up here?
We could consult him--about the room. He always knows everything.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. A good idea. Please ask him,
Bennet, if he would mind coming up to us here. [Bennet, who has been
piling up fresh logs upon the fire, turns to go.] Oh, Bennet! You will
remind Charles to put a footwarmer in the carriage!
BENNET. I will see to it myself. [He goes out.]
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Thank you, Bennet. [To her
sister] One's feet are always so cold after a railway journey.
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. I've been told that, nowadays, they
heat the carriages.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. 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.
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. I feel sure she loves lilies.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. And they are so appropriate to
a bride. So -
Announced by Bennet, Dr. Freemantle bustles in. He is a dapper little
man, clean-shaven, with quick brisk ways.
DR. FREEMANTLE [he shakes hands]. Well, and how are we this
afternoon? [He feels the pulse of the Younger Miss Wetherell] Steadier.
Much steadier! [of the Elder Miss Wetherell.] Nervous tension greatly
relieved.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. She has been sleeping much
better.
DR. FREEMANTLE [he pats the hand of the Elder Miss Wetherell].
Excellent! Excellent!
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. She ate a good breakfast this

morning.
DR. FREEMANTLE [he pats the hand of the Younger Miss Wetherell].
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 Aurelius, "to the things with which thy
lot has been cast. Whatever happens--"
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. You see, doctor, it was all so
sudden.
DR. FREEMANTLE. 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--like brave, sweet gentlewomen.
[He presses their hands. They are both wiping away a tear.] When do
you expect them?
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. To-night, by the half-past eight
train. We had a telegram this morning from Dover.
DR. FREEMANTLE. Um! 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 traditions. Brilliant idea,
brilliant! [They are both smiling with pleasure.]
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. 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 exceptionally sunny room.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. And these actresses--if all one
hears is true -
The dying sun is throwing his last beams across the room.
DR. FREEMANTLE. Which, thank God, it isn't. [He seats himself in a
large easy-chair. The two ladies sit side by side on a 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 almost permanent smile,
displaying an admirably preserved and remarkably even set of teeth.
But, above