(He is about to go when LORD LOAM returns, fuming.)
LORD LOAM. The ingrate! The smug! The fop!
CATHERINE. What is it now, father?
LORD LOAM. That man of mine, Rolleston, refuses to accompany us because you are to have but one maid.
AGATHA. Hurrah!
LADY MARY (in better taste). Darling father, rather than you should lose Rolleston, we will consent to take all the three of them.
LORD LOAM. Pooh, nonsense! Crichton, find me a valet who can do without three maids.
CRICHTON. Yes, my lord. (Troubled.) In the time--the more suitable the party, my lord, the less willing will he be to come without the-- the usual perquisites.
LORD LOAM. Any one will do.
CRICHTON (shocked). My lord!
LORD LOAM. The ingrate! The puppy!
(AGATHA has an idea, and whispers to LADY MARY.)
LADY MARY. I ask a favour of a servant?--never!
AGATHA. Then I will. Crichton, would it not be very distressing to you to let his lordship go, attended by a valet who might prove unworthy? It is only for three months; don't you think that you--you yourself--you--
(As CRICHTON sees what she wants he pulls himself up with noble, offended dignity, and she is appalled.)
I beg your pardon.
(He bows stiffly.)
CATHERINE (to CRICHTON). But think of the joy to Tweeny.
(CRICHTON is moved, but he shakes his head.)
LADY MARY (so much the cleverest). Crichton, do you think it safe to let the master you love go so far away without you while he has these dangerous views about equality?
(CRICHTON is profoundly stirred. After a struggle he goes to his master, who has been pacing the room.)
CRICHTON. My lord, I have found a man.
LORD LOAM. Already? Who is he?
(CRICHTON presents himself with a gesture.)
Yourself?
CATHERINE. Father, how good of him.
LORD LOAM (pleased, but thinking it a small thing). Uncommon good. Thank you, Crichton. This helps me nicely out of a hole; and how it will annoy Rolleston! Come with me, and we shall tell him. Not that I think you have lowered yourself in any way. Come along.
(He goes, and CRICHTON is to follow him, but is stopped by AGATHA impulsively offering him her hand.)
CRICHTON (who is much shaken). My lady--a valet's hand!
AGATHA. I had no idea you would feel it so deeply; why did you do it?
(CRICHTON is too respectful to reply.)
LADY MARY (regarding him). Crichton, I am curious. I insist upon an answer.
CRICHTON. My lady, I am the son of a butler and a lady's-maid-- perhaps the happiest of all combinations, and to me the most beautiful thing in the world is a haughty, aristocratic English house, with every one kept in his place. Though I were equal to your ladyship, where would be the pleasure to me? It would be counterbalanced by the pain of feeling that Thomas and John were equal to me.
CATHERINE. But father says if we were to return to nature--
CRICHTON. If we did, my lady, the first thing we should do would be to elect a head. Circumstances might alter cases; the same person might not be master; the same persons might not be servants. I can't say as to that, nor should we have the deciding of it. Nature would decide for us.
LADY MARY. You seem to have thought it all out carefully, Crichton.
CRICHTON. Yes, my lady.
CATHERINE. And you have done this for us, Crichton, because you thought that--that father needed to be kept in his place?
CRICHTON. I should prefer you to say, my lady, that I have done it for the house.
AGATHA. Thank you, Crichton. Mary, be nicer to him. (But LADY MARY has begun to read again.) If there was any way in which we could show our gratitude.
CRICHTON. If I might venture, my lady, would you kindly show it by becoming more like Lady Mary. That disdain is what we like from our superiors. Even so do we, the upper servants, disdain the lower servants, while they take it out of the odds and ends.
(He goes, and they bury themselves in cushions.)
AGATHA. Oh dear, what a tiring day.
CATHERINE. I feel dead. Tuck in your feet, you selfish thing.
(LADY MARY is lying reading on another couch.)
LADY MARY.