The Servant in the House Part 26

AUNTIE. But surely-- What did he think?

MANSON. He mistook him for your husband.

AUNTIE. My husband!

MANSON. Your brother is also a little blind, remember.

AUNTIE [delighted]. Then James never found out? . . .

MANSON. Oh yes: I took care to undeceive him on the point.

AUNTIE. Good gracious! How did he take it?

MANSON. At first, a little angrily; but, after a while, some few poor words of my own chanced to move him to more--_profitable_ meditation.

AUNTIE. Manson, you're perfectly wonderful! I respect you very, very much!

MANSON. It is not enough. I shall require more.

AUNTIE [embarra.s.sed]. Oh, of course, I shall be glad to do anything that . . .

Why, what do you mean? . . .

MANSON. I mean that service such as mine demands a greater recompense!

AUNTIE. You may be sure that anything in reason . . .

MANSON. It must go beyond that!

AUNTIE. Well, what do you ask?

MANSON. The uttermost obedience, loyalty, and love!

AUNTIE. Manson, how dare you! By what right . . .

MANSON. By my own right!

AUNTIE. This is insolence! What right do you mean?

MANSON. The right of understanding, the right of purpose, and the right of will!

AUNTIE. You force me to speak angrily to you! Do you forget that you are my servant?

MANSON. No! And, therefore, it is my office to command you now!

Sit down, and hear me speak!

VICAR. He has been sent to help us! Martha, this is G.o.d!

MANSON. Over here, please. [He points to the settee.]

AUNTIE. I . . . I . . .

[MANSON still points. She wavers as in a dream, and at length moves mechanically across the room, obeying him.]

MANSON. Now, let me tell you exactly why you have sent for me here. There is a strange and wretched turmoil in your soul: you have done wrong, and you know it--but you don't know all! You would keep what miserable little right you have by bolstering it up with further wrong. And you have sent for me to help you in that wrong!

AUNTIE. How dare you say that?

MANSON. Haven't you sent for me to help you in your plans about his brother, Robert?

AUNTIE [faintly]. What plans? . . .

MANSON. The plan of banis.h.i.+ng him further from your lives than ever! The plan of _providing_ for him! The plan of patching up his bitter wrongs with gold!

AUNTIE. How did you know that?

MANSON. I know _you_! What, do you think that G.o.d's eyes are like your brother's--blind? Or do you think these things can be done in darkness without crying aloud to Heaven for light?

AUNTIE. I am here to work my will, not yours!

MANSON. What gain do you hope to bring yourself by that?

AUNTIE. I am not thinking of myself! I am thinking only of my husband's happiness!

MANSON. Behold the happiness you have already brought him!

AUNTIE. There is the child! It would break her heart!

MANSON. What is her heart but broken now--by you?

AUNTIE, Robert himself would be the first to repudiate any other plan.

MANSON. Have you tried him?

AUNTIE. Of course not; but he must see the impossibility.

MANSON. What impossibility?

AUNTIE. The impossibility of having him here: the impossibility of letting him see the child: the impossibility of him and his brother ever meeting again!

MANSON. Is that your only difficulty?

AUNTIE. Only difficulty! What, would you have me welcome him with open arms?

MANSON. Yes, and heart, too!

AUNTIE. Have him here, entertain him, treat him as a guest?