Library / Literature & Fiction

Fanny and the Servant Problem

by Jerome K. Jerome

Pages
about 76
Category
Literature & Fiction
Language
English
Reading time
84 min at 250 wpm
Start readingThe whole book, as cards or one word at a time. 47 min at 450 wpm in Read mode.

From the opening

The Lady Bantock’s boudoir, Bantock Hall, Rutlandshire, a spacious room handsomely furnished (chiefly in the style of Louis the Fourteenth) and lighted by three high windows, facing the south-west. A door between the fireplace and the windows leads to his lordship’s apartments. A door the other side of the fireplace is the general entrance. The door opposite the windows leads through her ladyship’s dressing-room into her ladyship’s bedroom. Over the great fireplace hangs a full-length portrait of Constance, first Lady Bantock, by Hoppner.

The time is sunset of a day in early spring. The youthful Lord Bantock is expected home with his newly wedded wife this evening; and the two Misses Wetherell, his aunts, have been busy decorating the room with flowers, and are nearing the end of their labours. The two Misses Wetherell have grown so much alike it would be difficult for a stranger to tell one from the other; and to add to his confusion they have fallen into the habit of dressing much alike in a fashion of their own that went out long ago, while the hair of both is white, and even in their voices they have caught each other’s tones.

THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL [she has paused from her work and is looking out of the windows]. Such a lovely sunset, dear.

THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL [she leaves her work and joins her sister. The two stand holding each other’s hands, looking out]. Beautiful! [A silence. The sun is streaming full into the room.] You—you don’t think, dear, that this room—[she looks round it]—may possibly be a little too sunny to quite suit her?

THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL [not at first understanding]. How, dear, too sun—[She grasps the meaning.] You mean—you think that perhaps she does that sort of thing?

THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Well, dear, one is always given to understand that they do, women—ladies of her profession.

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