The Squire. That’s all right, Rector—we’re goin’ to be perfectly polite, and—and—thank her, and all that.
Lady Ella. We can see she’s a good sort. What does it matter?
Maud. My dear Ella! “What does it matter!” We’ve got to know.
The Rector. We do want light.
The Squire. I’ll ring the bell. [He rings.]
[They look at each other aghast.]
Lady Ella. What did you ring for, Tommy?
The Squire. [Flabbergasted] God knows!
Maud. Somebody’ll come.
The Squire. Rector—you—you’ve got to——
Maud. Yes, Bertie.
The Rector. Dear me! But—er—what—er——How?
The Squire. [Deeply-to himself] The whole thing’s damn delicate.
[The door right is opened
and a maid appears. She is a
determined-looking female.
They face her in silence.]
The Rector. Er—er——your master is not in?
The maid. No. ’E’s gone up to London.
The Rector. Er——Mr Challenger, I think?
The maid. Yes.
The Rector. Yes! Er——quite so
The maid. [Eyeing them] D’you want—Mrs Challenger?
The Rector. Ah! Not precisely——
The Squire. [To him in a low, determined voice] Go on.
The Rector. [Desperately] I asked because there was a—a—Mr. Challenger I used to know in the ’nineties, and I thought—you wouldn’t happen to know how long they’ve been married? My friend marr——
The maid. Three weeks.
The Rector. Quite so—quite so! I shall hope it will turn out to be——Er—thank you—Ha!
Lady Ella. Our dog has been fighting with the Rector’s, and Mrs Challenger rescued him; she’s bathing his ear. We’re waiting to thank her. You needn’t——
The maid. [Eyeing them] No.
[She turns and goes out.]
The Squire. Phew! What a gorgon! I say, Rector, did you really know a Challenger in the ’nineties?
The Rector. [Wiping his brow] No.
The Squire. Ha! Jolly good!
Lady Ella. Well, you see!—it’s all right.
The Rector. Yes, indeed. A great relief!
Lady Ella. [Moving to the door] I must go in now.
The Squire. Hold on! You goin’ to ask ’em to—to—anything?
Lady Ella. Yes.
Maud. I shouldn’t.
Lady Ella. Why not? We all like the look of her.