those necessities, he has
forgotten. The VICAR looks at him a moment in troubled thought, and
then goes out, followed by ROGERS.]
ROGERS [at door]. I'll be back to 'elp you in with the breakfast, Mr.
Manson. [Exit.]
MARY. Now, Manson: let's talk! You've got nothing more to do? . . .
MANSON. Not till breakfast.
MARY. Then come over here, and make ourselves comfy.
[They go over to the settee: she plumps herself down, gathering her
legs up into a little bunch. He seats himself beside her.]
Now! Tell me everything you know about the Bishop of Benares!
MANSON. What--Uncle Josh?
MARY. Ssh--ssh--ssh! That's naughty, you know! You heard what
Uncle William said! . . . Do you think he'd very much mind if I called
him Uncle Josh?
MANSON. You may take it from me, that you may call him whatever
you like.
MARY. That's all very well; but you're not Uncle Joshua!
MANSON. No? . . .
MARY [hotly]. No, you're not!
MANSON. Well, since you're so certain . . .
MARY [with conviction]. I'm perfectly certain he'll never stand a kid
like me cheeking him and calling him names! Uncle William's quite
right! . . . And that's why I've made up my mind that I sha'n't like him,
after all!
MANSON. Indeed, I hope you will!
MARY. Do you believe in liking people simply because they're uncles?
MANSON. Perhaps I'm a prejudiced person.
MARY. I know exactly what he'll be--goody-goody, isn't he? You
know--religious, and all that!
MANSON. God forbid!
MARY [fearfully]. Oh, perhaps he's the other sort--like auntie's brother!
He's a bishop--the Bishop of Lancashire. You see, I've heard a lot about
bishops in my time, and they're not always quite nice men.
MANSON. And what sort is the Bishop of Lancashire?
MARY. Well, I don't think I ought to tell you; but I once heard Uncle
William call him a devil!--And he's a clergyman!
MANSON. Your Uncle Joshua's reputation is exactly opposite.
MARY. There is that; everybody speaks awfully well of him.
MANSON. I don't think I would go so far as that: some people
blackguard him abominably.
MARY. No!--Who?
MANSON. His clergy, chiefly.
MARY. His clergy! They must be dreadfully wicked men!
MANSON. No--only blind: perhaps, also, a little deaf. But between the
two they manage to make his work very difficult.
MARY. Why? What do they do?
MANSON. It's partly what they do not do.
MARY. Oh, I see--lazy.
MANSON. Not precisely--they work: they are not idle; but they serve
other masters.
MARY. Such as whom?
MANSON. The Bishop of Lancashire.
MARY [after a pause], I always thought he was such a great success
out there. The papers have been full of it--of the millions of people who
follow him about: they say they almost worship him in some places.
What kind of people are they?
MANSON. Just common people.
MARY. And then, all that talk of die great churches he built out
there! . . .
MANSON. Churches?
MARY. Yes; didn't he?
MANSON. He built one.
MARY. What's it like?
MANSON. Those who have seen it say there is nothing like it on earth.
MARY [eagerly]. Have you seen it?
MANSON. I was there when he built it.
MARY. From the very beginning?
MANSON [solemnly]. From the beginning.
[MARY pauses before speaking: then she says, slowly.]
MARY. I hope I shall like him. Is he--is he anything like you?
[MANSON regards her silently for a moment.]
MANSON. How is it that you know so little about him?
MARY. Well, you see, I only heard yesterday.
MANSON. I thought you said his name was on everybody's lips.
MARY. You don't understand. I mean, I never knew that he had
anything to do with _me_--that he was my father's brother.
MANSON. Didn't he know?
MARY. Who--father? Oh, you see, I. . . _I don't know my
father_ . . . . . . Uncle William didn't know anything about it until
yesterday.
MANSON. Hm! That is strange, too!
MARY. There's a bit of a mystery about it altogether. Would you like
to hear? It is rather like a fairy-tale.
MANSON. It must be. Yes, do go on.
MARY. It was all through Uncle William's Restoration Fund. You see,
our old church is in a perfectly rotten state of decay, and naturally it
would take a lot to repair it: so uncle thought of starting a Fund--Yes!
Wasn't it clever of him?--I addressed all the envelopes.
Would you believe it, we couldn't get a single halfpenny! Isn't it a
shame?--Such a nice old church, too!
MANSON. How was that?
MARY. That's the question! People have been most rude! Oh, the
letters we have had! The funny thing is, for all their fault-finding, they
none of them agree with each other!--Some say the foundations are all
wrong:
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