VICAR.  It’s not the church.  I could wish every Stone of it were crumbled into dust!

AUNTIE.  William, how wicked of you! . . .

Is it—­is it anything to do with your brother Joshua?  Why don’t you answer?

VICAR. It has to do with my brother—­Robert.

AUNTIE.  Mary’s fa . . .

William, did you send him that telegram yesterday?

VICAR.  Yes:  that was a lie, too!

AUNTIE.  Nonsense!  Don’t be absurd!

VICAR.  It was a lie!

AUNTIE.  You told him we couldn’t do with him because the house was upset:  that’s true!  You told him that the drains were up in the study:  that’s true!

VICAR.  Was that the real reason why we refused to have him here? 
Was it?

AUNTIE.  I can’t think what possessed him to write and say he’d come.  We’ve not heard from him for fifteen years!

VICAR.  Whose fault is that?

AUNTIE.  Why, his own, of course!  He can’t expect to be treated decently! [She walks up and down with anger.] It’s perfectly absurd, it really is, dear, making all this fuss and trouble about a wretched—­

Have you told Mary?

VICAR.  No:  the silent lie was comparatively easy!

AUNTIE.  My dear, do try and be reasonable.  Think of what he is!

VICAR.  Isn’t he my brother?

AUNTIE.  No, he’s not your brother—­at least, nothing that a brother ought to be!  Ridicules everything that you hold sacred!  Hates everything you love!  Loves everything you hate! . . .

VICAR. That’s true!

AUNTIE.  A scoffer, an atheist, a miserable drunkard!

VICAR.  That was fifteen years ago, remember, after Mary’s mother died! . . .

AUNTIE.  A man like that never changes!  What would have become of that poor child if we hadn’t stepped in?  Have you ever dared to tell her what her father’s like?  Of course not!  To-day, too, of all days!  It’s utterly preposterous!

VICAR.  That is all the more reason why . . .

AUNTIE.  My dear, think of his occupation!

VICAR.  I think the child ought to be told.

AUNTIE.  Of his occupation?

VICAR.  That, and everything.

AUNTIE.  My dear, have you gone perfectly mad?  Do you know who’s coming?  Do you want to advertise his occupation to all the world?

VICAR.  Do you think his brother Joshua would mind that?

AUNTIE.  It isn’t only your brother Joshua!  You think of nobody but your brother Joshua!  Some one else is coming.

VICAR.  Who?

AUNTIE. My brother James! [She throws down the letter.] Now you’ve heard it all!

[There is a long silence.  Then the VICAR speaks in a low, intense voice of bitter contempt.]

VICAR.  Your brother James is coming here today?  You have brought him here to help my brother Joshua! Him!