(Three maids rise; also three mistresses.) CRICHTON. My lord! LORD LOAM. My mind is made up. ERNEST. I cordially agree. LORD LOAM. And now, my friends, I should like to think that there is some piece of advice I might give you, some thought, some noble saying over which you might ponder in my absence. In this connection I remember a proverb, which has had a great effect on my own life. I first heard it many years ago. I have never forgotten it. It constantly cheers and guides me. That proverb is--that proverb was--the proverb I speak of-- (He grows pale and taps his forehead.) LADY MARY. Oh dear, I believe he has forgotten it. LORD LOAM (desperately). The proverb--that proverb to which I refer-- (Alas, it has gone. The distress is general. He has not even the sense to sit down. He gropes for the proverb in the air. They try applause, but it is no help.) I have it now--(not he). LADY MARY (with confidence). Crichton. (He does not fail her. As quietly as if he were in goloshes, mind as well as feet, he dismisses the domestics; they go according to precedence as they entered, yet, in a moment, they are gone. Then he signs to MR. TREHERNE, and they conduct LORD LOAM with dignity from the room. His hands are still catching flies; he still mutters, ‘The proverb--that proverb’; but he continues, owing to CRICHTON’S skilful treatment, to look every inch a peer. The ladies have now an opportunity to air their indignation.) LADY MARY. One maid among three grown women! LORD BROCKLEHURST. Mary, I think I had better go. That dreadful kitchenmaid-- LADY MARY. I can’t blame you, George. (He salutes her.) LORD BROCKLEHURST. Your father’s views are shocking to me, and I am glad I am not to be one of the party on the yacht. My respect for myself, Mary, my natural anxiety as to what mother will say. I shall see you, darling, before you sail. (He bows to the others and goes.) ERNEST. Selfish brute, only thinking of himself. What about my speech? LADY MARY. One maid among three of us. What’s to be done? ERNEST. Pooh! You must do for yourselves, that’s all. LADY MARY. Do for ourselves. How can we know where our things are kept? AGATHA. Are you aware that dresses button up the back? CATHERINE. How are we to get into our shoes and be prepared for the carriage? LADY MARY. Who is to put us to bed, and who is to get us up, and how shall we ever know it’s morning if there is no one to pull up the blinds? (CRICHTON crosses on his way out.) ERNEST. How is his lordship now? CRICHTON. A little easier, sir. LADY MARY. Crichton, send Fisher to me. (He goes.) ERNEST. I have no pity for you girls, I-- LADY MARY. Ernest, go away, and don’t insult the broken-hearted. ERNEST. And uncommon glad I am to go. Ta-ta, all of you. He asked me to say a few words. I came here to say a few words, and I’m not at all sure that I couldn’t bring an action against him.