Fanny and the Servant Problem

by Jerome K. Jerome

FANNY [nods]. About me—and my family.

NEWTE. Well—couldn’t tell him much, of course. Wasn’t much to tell.

FANNY. I want what you did tell.

NEWTE. I told him that your late father was a musician.

FANNY. Yes.

NEWTE. Had been unfortunate. Didn’t go into particulars. Didn’t seem to be any need for it. That your mother had died when you were still only a girl and that you had gone to live with relatives. [He looks for approval.]

FANNY. Yes.

NEWTE. That you hadn’t got on well with them—artistic temperament, all that sort of thing—that, in consequence, you had appealed to your father’s old theatrical friends; and that they—that they, having regard to your talent—and beauty—

FANNY. Thank you.

NEWTE. Had decided that the best thing you could do was to go upon the stage. [He finishes, tolerably well pleased with himself.]