me. I am going to do my duty as a son;
and you know it.

LADY CICELY. But I should have thought that the time for that was in
your mother's lifetime, when you could have been kind and forbearing
with her. Hurting your uncle won't do her any good, you know.

BRASSBOUND. It will teach other scoundrels to respect widows and
orphans. Do you forget that there is such a thing as justice?

LADY CICELY (gaily shaking out the finished coat). Oh, if you are going
to dress yourself in ermine and call yourself Justice, I give you up.
You are just your uncle over again; only he gets L5,000 a year for it,
and you do it for nothing.

(She holds the coat up to see whether any further repairs are needed.)

BRASSBOUND (sulkily). You twist my words very cleverly. But no man or
woman has ever changed me.

LADY CICELY. Dear me! That must be very nice for the people you deal
with, because they can always depend on you; but isn't it rather
inconvenient for yourself when you change your mind?

BRASSBOUND. I never change my mind.

LADY CICELY (rising with the coat in her hands). Oh! Oh!! Nothing will
ever persuade me that you are as pigheaded as that.

BRASSBOUND (offended). Pigheaded!

LADY CICELY (with quick, caressing apology). No, no, no. I didn't mean
that. Firm! Unalterable! Resolute! Ironwilled! Stonewall Jackson! That's
the idea, isn't it?

BRASSBOUND (hopelessly). You are laughing at me.

LADY CICELY. No: trembling, I assure you. Now will you try this on for
me: I'm SO afraid I have made it too tight under the arm. (She holds it
behind him.)

BRASSBOUND (obeying mechanically). You take me for a fool I think. (He
misses the sleeve.)

LADY CICELY. No: all men look foolish when they are feeling for their
sleeves.

BRASSBOUND. Agh! (He turns and snatches the coat from her; then puts it
on himself and buttons the lowest button.)

LADY CICELY (horrified). Stop. No. You must NEVER pull a coat at the
skirts, Captain Brassbound: it spoils the sit of it. Allow me. (She
pulls the lappels of his coat vigorously forward) Put back your
shoulders. (He frowns, but obeys.) That's better. (She buttons the top
button.) Now button the rest from the top down. DOES it catch you at all
under the arm?

BRASSBOUND (miserably--all resistance beaten out of him). No.

LADY CICELY. That's right. Now before I go back to poor Marzo, say thank
you to me for mending your jacket, like a nice polite sailor.

BRASSBOUND (sitting down at the table