LORD LOAM (seeing the opportunity for a diversion). I admit it frankly. I abandon them. Emily, as the result of our experiences on the island, I think of going over to the Tories.
LADY BROCKLEHURST. I am delighted to hear it.
LORD LOAM (expanding). Thank you, Crichton, thank you; that is all.
(He motions to them to go, but the time is not yet.)
LADY BROCKLEHURST. One moment. (There is a universal but stifled groan.) Young people, Crichton, will be young people, even on an island; now, I suppose there was a certain amount of—shall we say sentimentalising, going on?
CRICHTON. Yes, my lady, there was.
LORD BROCKLEHURST (ashamed). Mother!
LADY BROCKLEHURST (disregarding him). Which gentleman? (To TWEENY) You, girl, tell me.
TWEENY (confused). If you please, my lady—
ERNEST (hurriedly). The fact is—(He is checked as before, and probably says ‘D—n’ to himself, but he has saved the situation.)