VERNON. Perhaps better not. It may cause talk; if, by chance,
anybody does come. I was forgetting it was Wednesday. [Fanny sits
again.] I shan't do anything without consulting you. Good-bye.
FANNY. Good-bye.
Vernon goes out.
BENNET. You think it wise, discussing with his lordship the secret
history of the Bennet family?
FANNY. What do you mean by telling him my father was an organ-
grinder? If the British public knew the difference between music and
a hurdy-gurdy, he would have kept a butler of his own.
BENNET. I am not aware of having mentioned to his lordship that you
ever to my knowledge even had a father. It is not my plan--for the
present at all events--to inform his lordship anything about your
family. Take care I am not forced to.
FANNY. Because my father, a composer who had his work performed at
the Lamoureux Concerts--as I can prove, because I've got the
programme--had the misfortune to marry into a family of lackeys--I'm
not talking about my mother: she was never really one of you. SHE
had the soul of an artist.
BENNET [white with suppressed fury; he is in front of her; his very
look is enough to silence her]. Now you listen to me, my girl, once
and for all. I told you the night of your arrival that whether this
business was going to prove a pleasant or an unpleasant one depended
upon you. You make it an easy one--for your own sake. With one word
I can bring your house of cards about your ears.
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