CRICHTON. They did not seem natural on the island, my lady, and were discontinued by the Gov.’s orders. LORD BROCKLEHURST. A clear proof, Loam, that they were a mistake here. 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.) TWEENY (gasping). It was him--Mr. Ernest, your ladyship. LADY BROCKLEHURST (counsel for the prosecution). With which lady? AGATHA. I have already told you, Lady Brocklehurst, that Ernest and I-- LADY BROCKLEHURST. Yes, now; but you were two years on the island. (Looking at LADY MARY). Was it this lady? TWEENY. No, your ladyship. LADY BROCKLEHURST. Then I don’t care which of the others it was. (TWEENY gurgles.) Well, I suppose that will do. LORD BROCKLEHURST. Do! I hope you are ashamed of yourself, mother. (To CRICHTON, who is going). You are an excellent fellow, Crichton; and if, after we are married, you ever wish to change your place, come to us. LADY MARY (losing her head for the only time). Oh no, impossible-- LADY BROCKLEHURST (at once suspicious). Why impossible? (LADY MARY cannot answer, or perhaps she is too proud.) Do you see why it should be impossible, my man? (He can make or mar his unworthy MARY now. Have you any doubt of him?) CRICHTON. Yes, my lady. I had not told you, my lord, but as soon as your lordship is suited I wish to leave service. (They are all immensely relieved, except poor TWEENY.) TREHERNE (the only curious one). What will you do, Crichton? (CRICHTON shrugs his shoulders; ‘God knows’, it may mean.) CRICHTON. Shall I withdraw, my lord? (He withdraws without a tremor, TWEENY accompanying him. They can all breathe again; the thunderstorm is over.) LADY BROCKLEHURST (thankful to have made herself unpleasant). Horrid of me, wasn’t it? But if one wasn’t disagreeable now and again, it would be horribly tedious to be an old woman. He will soon be yours, Mary, and then--think of the opportunities you will have of being disagreeable to me. On that understanding, my dear, don’t you think we might--? (Their cold lips meet.)