[Still stupefed, slowly unlaces his flngers; puts his hands on his knees, and lifts himself upright; pulls his waistcoat straight with a tug; and tries to take his disenchantment philosophically as he turns to Sartorius.] Well, people who live in glass houses have no right to throw stones. But, on my honor, I never knew that my house was a glass one until you pointed it out. I beg your pardon. [He offers his hand.]
SARTORIUS Say no more, Harry: your feelings do you credit: I assure you I feel exactly as you do, myself. Every man who has a heart must wish that a better state of things was practicable. But unhappily it is not.
TRENCH [a little consoled] I suppose not.
COKANE Not a doubt of it, my dear sir: Not a doubt of it. The increase of the population is at the bottom of it all.
SARTORIUS [to Trench] I trust I have convinced you that you need no more object to Blanche sharing my fortune, than I need object to her sharing yours.
TRENCH [with dull wistfulness] It seems so. We’re all in the same swim, it appears. I hope youll excuse my making such a fuss.
SARTORIUS Not another word. In fact, I thank you for refraining from explaining the nature of your scruples to Blanche: I admire that in you, Harry. Perhaps it will be as well to leave her in ignorance.
TRENCH [anxiously] But I must explain now. You saw how angry she was.
SARTORIUS You had better leave that to me. [He looks at his watch, and rings the bell.] Lunch is nearly due: While you are getting ready for it I can see Blanche; and I hope the result will be quite satisfactory to us all. [The parlor maid answers the bell: He addresses her with his habitual peremptoriness] Tell Miss Blanche I want her.
THE PARLOR MAID [her face falling expressively] Yes, sir. [She turns reluctantly to go.]
SARTORIUS [on second thoughts] Stop. [She stops.] My love to Miss Blanche; I am alone here and would like to see her for a moment if she is not busy.
PARLOR MAID [Much relieved] Yes, sir. [She goes out.]
SARTORIUS I will shew you your room, Harry. I hope you will soon be perfectly at home in it. You also, Mr Cokane, must learn your way about here. Let us go before Blanche comes. [He leads the way to the door.]
COKANE… [cheerily, following him] Our little discussion has given me quite an appetite.
TRENCH [moodily] It’s taken mine away. [They go out, Sartorius holding the door for them. He is following when the parlor maid reappears. She is a snivelling, sympathetic creature, and is on the verge of tears.]
SARTORIUS Well: Is Miss Blanche coming?
THE PARLOR MAID Yes, sir. I think so, sir.
SARTORIUS Wait here until she comes; and tell her that I will be back in a moment.
THE PARLOR MAID Yes, sir. [She comes into the room. Sartorius looks suspiciously at her as she passes him. He half closes the door and follows her.]
SARTORIUS [lowering his voice] Whats the matter with you?
THE PARLOR MAID [whimpering] Nothing, sir.
SARTORIUS [at the same pitch, more menacingly] Take care how you behave yourself when there are visitors present. Do you hear?
THE PARLOR MAID Yes, sir. [Sartorius goes out.]
SARTORIUS [outside] Excuse me: I had a word to say to the servant. [Trench is heard replying “Not at all” and Cokane “Dont mention it, my dear sir.” The murmur of their voices passes out of hearing. The parlor maid sniffs; dries her eyes; goes to one of the bookcases; and takes some brown paper and a ball of string from a drawer. She puts them on the table and wrestles with another sob. Blanche comes in, with a jewel box in her hands. Her expression is that of a strong and determined woman in an intense passion. The maid looks at her with a mixture of abject wounded affection and bodily terror.]
BLANCHE [looking round] Where’s my father?
THE PARLOR MAID [tremulously propitiatory] He left word he’d be back directly, miss. I’m sure he wont be long. Here’s the paper and string all ready, miss. [She spreads the paper on the table] Can I do the parcel for you, miss?
BLANCHE No. Mind your own business. [She empties the box on the sheet of brown paper. It contains a packet of letters and some jewellery. She plucks a ring from her finger and throws it down on the heap so angrily that it rolls away and falls on the carpet. The maid submissively picks it up and puts it on the table, again sniffing and drying her eyes.] What are you crying for?
THE PARLOR MAID [plaintively] You speak so brutal to me, Miss Blanche; and I do love you so. I’m sure no one else would stay and put up with what I have to put up with.
BLANCHE Then go. I dont want you. Do you hear. Go.
THE PARLOR MAID [piteously, falling on her knees] Oh no, Miss Blanche. Dont send me away from you: Dont.
BLANCHE [with fierce disgust] Agh! I hate the sight of you. [The maid, wounded to the heart, cries bitterly.] Hold your tongue. Are those two gentlemen gone?
THE PARLOR MAID [weeping] Oh, how could you say such a thing to me, Miss Blanche: Me that —
BLANCHE [seizing her by the hair and throat] Stop that noise, I tell you, unless you want me to kill you.
THE PARLOR MAID [protesting and imploring, but in a carefully subdued voice] Let me go, Miss Blanche: You know youll be sorry: You always are. Remember how dreadfully my head was cut last time.
BLANCHE [raging] Answer me, will you. Have they gone?
THE PARLOR MAID Lickcheese has gone, looking dreadf — [She breaks off with a stifled cry as Blanche’s fingers tighten furiously on her.]
BLANCHE Did I ask you about Lickcheese? You beast: You know who I mean: youre doing it on purpose.
‘THE PARLOR MAID [in a gasp] Theyre staying to lunch.
BLANCHE [looking intently into her face] He?
THE PARLOR MAID [whispering with a sympathetic nod] Yes, miss. [Blanche slowly releases her and stands upright with clenched fists and set face. The parlor maid, recognizing the passing of the crisis of passion, and fearing no further violence, sits discomfitedly on her heels, and tries to arrange her hair and cap, whimpering a little with exhaustion and soreness.] Now youve set my hands all trembling; and I shall jingle the things on the tray at lunch so that everybody will notice me. It’s too bad of you, Miss. [Sartorius coughs outside.]
BLANCHE [quickly] Sh! Get up. [The parlor maid hastily gets up, and goes out as demurely as she can, passing Sartorius on her way to the door. He glances sternly at her and comes to Blanche. The parlor maid shuts the door softly behind her]
SARTORIUS [mournfully] My dear: can you not make a little better fight with your temper?
BLANCHE [panting with the subsidence of her fit] No I cant. I wont. I do my best. Nobody who really cares for me gives me up because of my temper. I never shew my temper to any of the servants but that girl; and she is the only one that will stay with us.
SARTORIUS But, my dear, remember that we have to meet our visitors at luncheon presently.
