AUNTIE [off]. Leave him to me, William! I'll soon settle the
matter! [Entering.] The man must be possessed of some evil
spirit! . . .

Why--it's my brother James! . . .

[MANSON has risen, and is now the butler once more. He speaks into
the ear-trumpet.]

MANSON. Your sister and the vicar, my lord.

BISHOP [behind table, rising]. Ah! Well, Martha!--No, no, no, if
you please! [He restrains her approach.] Observe the retribution
of an unchastened will. You have never seen my face for sixteen
years! However, like a cloud, I blot out your transgressions from
this hour!

And so this is your husband ?--Not a word, sir; not a single
word!--the sausages were delicious, and your place has been most
agreeably occupied by your brother!

VICAR. My brother! Then you . . . What do you mean?

BISHOP [testily]. I mean what I say, sir! Your brother, _my_
brother, _our_ brother here, of course, our Oriental brother!

AUNTIE. James, you are making a mistake: this is our new
butler--our _Indian_ butler.