. Yes, now; but you were two years on the island.
(Looking at LADY MARY). Was it this lady?

TWEENY. No, your ladyship.

LADY BROCKLEHURST. Then I don't care which of the others it was. (TWEENY
gurgles.) Well, I suppose that will do.

LORD BROCKLEHURST. Do! I hope you are ashamed of yourself, mother. (To
CRICHTON, who is going). You are an excellent fellow, Crichton; and if,
after we are married, you ever wish to change your place, come to us.

LADY MARY (losing her head for the only time). Oh no, impossible--

LADY BROCKLEHURST (at once suspicious). Why impossible? (LADY MARY
cannot answer, or perhaps she is too proud.) Do you see why it should be
impossible, my man?

(He can make or mar his unworthy MARY now. Have you any doubt of him?)

CRICHTON. Yes, my lady. I had not told you, my lord, but as soon as
your lordship is suited I wish to leave service. (They are all immensely
relieved, except poor TWEENY.)

TREHERNE (the only curious one). What will you do, Crichton? (CRICHTON
shrugs his shoulders; 'God knows', it may mean.)

CRICHTON. Shall I withdraw, my lord? (He withdraws without a tremor,
TWEENY accompanying him. They can all breathe again; the thunderstorm is
over.)

LADY BROCKLEHURST (thankful to have made herself unpleasant). Horrid of
me, wasn't it? But if one wasn't disagreeable now and again, it would
be horribly tedious to be an old woman. He will soon be yours, Mary, and
then--think of the opportunities you will have of being disagreeable to
me. On that understanding, my dear, don't you think we might--? (Their
cold lips meet.)

LORD LOAM (vaguely). Quite so--quite so. (CRICHTON announces dinner, and
they file out. LADY MARY stays behind a moment and impulsively holds out
her hand.)

LADY MARY. To wish you every dear happiness.

CRICHTON (an enigma to the last.) The same to you, my lady.

LADY MARY. Do you despise me, Crichton? (The man who could never tell a
lie makes no answer.) You are the best man among us.

CRICHTON. On an island, my lady, perhaps; but in England, no.

LADY MARY. Then there's something wrong with England.

CRICHTON. My lady, not even from you can I listen to a word against
England.

LADY MARY. Tell me one thing: you have not lost your courage?

CRICHTON. No, my lady.

(She goes. He turns out the lights.)

End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Admirable Crichton, by J. M. Barrie

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