Part 17

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 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 would 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 [flares up]. Look here, uncle, you and I have got to understand one another. I may 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. Newte’s visit.

FANNY. There will be no need to. Mr. Newte, 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 into the “Merry Widow Waltz,” or some other equally inappropriate but well-known melody, and then there enters 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 [she springs up and greets him. They are evidently good friends]. Hulloa, George!

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 myself—[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 ladyship is suffering from a headache. If I might suggest—a little less boisterousness. [He goes out.]

NEWTE [he watches him out]. 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? [She sits.]

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 were you.

NEWTE. Such a long time since I was at Court. [He 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 what I was marrying?