RY. Oh, auntie, dear! . . .

AUNTIE. Don't think of yourself, dear-- Remember, there are other
people in the world besides you. Go down into the village, and
have breakfast with poor old Grannie Durden. Take her some nice
new-laid eggs and a pat of butter-- Poor soul, it would be a
charity!

MARY. Oh, auntie, she's as deaf as a post!

AUNTIE. Dearest!--Remember what your uncle said last Sunday about
_Pure religion and undefiled_! He mentioned Mrs. Durden only a
week ago; but I forgot. Now, run along.

MARY [reluctantly]. Very well, auntie.

[She goes out by the main door.]

AUNTIE [laughing]. Inconsiderate little monkey!

I am glad you have not thought of changing your pretty, native
costume, Manson. It is very picturesque; and, besides, to-day
there is a special reason why it may be considered complimentary.

[A double knock is heard at the outer door.]

Ah! Quick, Manson! The postman!

[MANSON goes out. AUNTIE takes a look at the coat: rearranges the
flowers, humming, meanwhile, "The Church's One Foundation"; and
then stands impatiently awaiting MANSON'S reappearance. Presently
he returns with a letter on server.]

MANSON. A letter for you, ma'am.

AUNTIE. Ah! What I expected!

[She breaks open the letter and reads it eagerly.]

Excellent! [More dubiously]. Excellent . . .

Manson, we shall have to be very busy to-day. There will be quite
a Church Congress to lunch--two bishops!

MANSON. Oh, not as bad as that, ma'am!

AUNTIE. Manson!

MANSON. Beg pardon, ma'am; but master mentioned only one--his
brother, the Bishop of Benares.

AUNTIE. _My_ brother will join us also--the Bishop of Lancashire.
This is his letter.

And now let's have breakfast, at once. The vicar is sure to be
earlier than he said; and I'm hungry.

[MANSON goes to the door. As he opens it, the VICAR and ROGERS
reappear.]

MANSON. Here is master. I'll hurry up the breakfast, ma'am.

VICAR [entering]. Do, Manson. Let's get it over.

[MANSON goes out.]

Excuse me, my dear.

[ROGERS helps him off with the cassock.]

So tiresome! Not a place in the house to do anything! Confound
the drains! Just run up-stairs for my coat, Rogers.

AUNTIE. It's here, dear. I have it warming for you.

VICAR [more graciously]. Oh, thank you, Martha. That will do,
then, Rogers. Tell Manson to hurry up.

[ROGERS helps him on and goes out. The cassock is left lying on
the long stool by the window.]