All are thinking of themselves alone save CRICHTON, who
knows his master's weakness, and fears he may stick in the middle.
LORD LOAM, however, advances cheerfully to his doom. He sees
ERNEST'S stool, and artfully stands on it, to his nephew's natural
indignation. The three ladies knit their lips, the servants look
down their noses, and the address begins.)
LORD LOAM. My friends, I am glad to see you all looking so happy. It
used to be predicted by the scoffer that these meetings would prove
distasteful to you. Are they distasteful? I hear you laughing at the
question.
(He has not heard them, but he hears them now, the watchful CRICHTON
giving them a lead.)
No harm in saying that among us to-day is one who was formerly
hostile to the movement, but who to-day has been won over. I refer
to Lord Brocklehurst, who, I am sure, will presently say to me that
if the charming lady now by his side has derived as much pleasure
from his company as he has derived from hers, he will be more than
satisfied.
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