Come right in, ma'am!
[LADY CREECH enters.]
LADY CREECH [frigidly]. I need scarcely inform you that this interview
is not of my seeking. [She sits stiffly.] On the contrary, it is
intensely disagreeable to me. My brother-in-law feels that some one well
acquainted with Miss Granger-Simpson's ambitions and her inner nature
should put the case finally to you before we proceed to extremities.
PIKE. Yes, ma'am!
LADY CREECH [crossly]. Don't mumble your words if you expect me to
listen to you.
PIKE [cordially]. Go on, ma'am!
LADY CREECH. My brother-in-law has made us aware of the state of
affairs, and we are quite in sympathy with my brother-in-law's attitude
as to what should be done to you.
PIKE [in a tone of genial inquiry]. Yes, ma'am; and what do you think
ought to be done to me?
LADY CREECH. If, in the kindness of our hearts, we condone your offence,
we insist upon your accession to our reasonable demands.
PIKE [sardonically]. By ten o'clock!
LADY CREECH. Quite so.
PIKE. You say he told all of you? Has he told Miss Ethel?
LADY CREECH. It hasn't been thought proper. Young girls should be
shielded from everything disagreeable.
PIKE. Yes, ma'am; that's the idea that got me into this trouble.
LADY CREECH. I say, this young lady, who seems to be technically your
ward, is considered, by all of us who understand her, infinitely more
_my_ ward.
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