AUNTIE.  And you, sweetheart:  you come next—­a very near next! 
Now, run along.

[MARY takes the coat to the fire.]

[Surveying the table].  That’s very nice, Manson, very nice indeed!  Perhaps, just a little further this way. . . . [Removes flowers.] My husband is so fond of them.  Ye-es; and I wanted things particularly nice this morning . . .

MARY [at the fire, looking up].  I thought you said you—­you didn’t expect him till twelve-thirty! . . .

AUNTIE [absorbed].  Whom?

MARY [chuckling].  The—­the Bishop of Benares.

AUNTIE.  The—­the . . .  Oh, it’s your uncle I am . . . [To
Manson].  By-the-bye, has the postman been yet?

MANSON [at the window].  I can see him coming up the lane.  He’s stopped at the next house.

AUNTIE.  Oh, then, Mary:  will you very much mind if you don’t have breakfast with us this morning?  I want to have a private talk with your uncle.

MARY.  Oh, auntie, dear! . . .

AUNTIE.  Don’t think of yourself, dear—­ Remember, there are other people in the world besides you.  Go down into the village, and have breakfast with poor old Grannie Durden.  Take her some nice new-laid eggs and a pat of butter—­ Poor soul, it would be a charity!

MARY.  Oh, auntie, she’s as deaf as a post!

AUNTIE.  Dearest!—­Remember what your uncle said last Sunday about Pure religion and undefiled!  He mentioned Mrs. Durden only a week ago; but I forgot.  Now, run along.

MARY [reluctantly].  Very well, auntie.

[She goes out by the main door.]

AUNTIE [laughing].  Inconsiderate little monkey!

I am glad you have not thought of changing your pretty, native costume, Manson.  It is very picturesque; and, besides, to-day there is a special reason why it may be considered complimentary.

[A double knock is heard at the outer door.]

Ah!  Quick, Manson!  The postman!

[MANSON goes out.  AUNTIE takes a look at the coat:  rearranges the flowers, humming, meanwhile, “The Church’s One Foundation”; and then stands impatiently awaiting MANSON’S reappearance.  Presently he returns with a letter on server.]

MANSON.  A letter for you, ma’am.

AUNTIE.  Ah!  What I expected!

[She breaks open the letter and reads it eagerly.]

Excellent! [More dubiously].  Excellent . . .

Manson, we shall have to be very busy to-day.  There will be quite a Church Congress to lunch—­two bishops!

MANSON.  Oh, not as bad as that, ma’am!

AUNTIE.  Manson!

MANSON.  Beg pardon, ma’am; but master mentioned only one—­his brother, the Bishop of Benares.

AUNTIE. My brother will join us also—­the Bishop of Lancashire. 
This is his letter.

And now let’s have breakfast, at once.  The vicar is sure to be earlier than he said; and I’m hungry.