MRS. BENNET. Yes, why didn’t she write?
FANNY. Because I didn’t know. Do you think—[she rises]—that if I had I would ever have married him—to be brought back here and put in this ridiculous position? Do you think that I am so fond of you all that I couldn’t keep away from you, at any price?
MRS. BENNET. But you must have known that Lord Bantock—
FANNY. I didn’t know he was Lord Bantock. I only knew him as Mr. Wetherell, an artist. He wanted to feel sure that I was marrying him for himself alone. He never told me—[Ernest Bennet, a very young footman, has entered in answer to Bennet’s ring of a minute ago. He has come forward step by step, staring all the while open-mouthed at Fanny. Turning, she sees him beside her.] Hulloa, Ernie. How are the rabbits? [She kisses him.]
BENNET. Don’t stand there gaping. I rang for some wood. Tell your brother dinner will be at a quarter to eight.
Ernest, never speaking, still staring at Fanny, gets clumsily out again.
FANNY. Well, I suppose I’d better see about dressing? Do I dine with his lordship or in the servants’ hall?
MRS. BENNET [turns to her husband]. You see! Still the old impertinence.
FANNY. Only wanted to know. My only desire is to give satisfaction.
BENNET [he moves towards the door]. You will do it by treating the matter more seriously. At dinner, by keeping your eye upon me, you will be able to tell whether you are behaving yourself or not.