Part 6

THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. You see, coming, as she does, from a good family—

BENNET. It is that—I speak merely for myself—that gives me hope of reclaiming her.

A silence. The two ladies, feeling a little helpless, again look at one another.

THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. We must be very sympathetic.

THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. And patient, Bennet.

BENNET. It is what I am preparing myself to be. Of course, if you think them inadvisable, I can take them down again.

THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. No, Bennet, oh no! I should leave them up. Very thoughtful of you, indeed.

BENNET. It seemed to me one ought to leave no stone unturned. [He returns to his labours in the bedroom.]

THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL [after a pause]. I do hope she’ll like the Bennets.

THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. I think she will—after a time, when she is used to them.

THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. I am so anxious it should turn out well.

THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. I feel sure she’s a good woman. Vernon would never have fallen in love with her if she hadn’t been good. [They take each other’s hand, and sit side by side, as before, upon the settee. The twilight has faded: only the faint firelight remains, surrounded by shadows.] Do you remember, when he was a little mite, how he loved to play with your hair? [The younger Miss Wetherell laughs.] I always envied you your hair.

THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. He was so fond of us both. Do you remember when he was recovering from the measles, his crying for us to bath him instead of Mrs. Bennet? I have always reproached myself that we refused.

THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. He was such a big boy for his age.

THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. I think we might have stretched a point in a case of illness.

The room has grown very dark. The door has been softly opened; Vernon and Fanny have entered noiselessly. Fanny remains near the door hidden by a screen, Vernon has crept forward. At this point the two ladies become aware that somebody is in the room. They are alarmed.

THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Who’s there?

VERNON. It’s all right, aunt. It’s only I.

The two ladies have risen. They run forward, both take him in their arms.

THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Vernon!

THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. My dear boy!

THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. But we didn’t expect you—

THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. And your wife, dear?

VERNON. She’s here!

THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. Here?

Fanny, from behind the screen, laughs.

VERNON. We’ll have some light. [He whispers to them.] Not a word—haven’t told her yet. [Feeling his way to the wall, he turns on the electric light.]

Fanny is revealed, having slipped out from behind the screen. There is a pause. Vernon, standing near the fire, watches admiringly.