_(LADY MARY is left alone. She is the mo...

(LADY MARY is left alone. She is the most courageous of them as well as the haughtiest, but when something she had thought to be a stick glides toward her, she forgets her dignity and screams.)
LADY MARY (calling). Crichton, Crichton!
CRICHTON (anxious). Did you call, my lady?
LADY MARY (herself again, now that he is there). I! Why should I?
CRICHTON. I made a mistake, your ladyship. (Hesitating.) If you are afraid of being alone, my lady—
LADY MARY. Afraid! Certainly not. (Doggedly.) You may go.
(But she does not complain when he remains within eyesight cutting the bamboo. It is heavy work, and she watches him silently.)
LADY MARY. I wish, Crichton, you could work without getting so hot.
CRICHTON (mopping his face). I wish I could, my lady.
(He continues his labours.)
LADY MARY (taking off her oilskins). It makes me hot to look at you.
CRICHTON. It almost makes me cool to look at your ladyship.
LADY MARY (who perhaps thinks he is presuming). Anything I can do for you in that way, Crichton, I shall do with pleasure.
CRICHTON (quite humbly). Thank you, my lady.
(By this time most of the bamboo has been cut, and the shore and sea are visible, except where they are hidden by the half completed hut. The mast rising solitary from the water adds to the desolation of the scene, and at last tears run down LADY MARY’S face.)
CRICHTON. Don’t give way, my lady, things might be worse.
LADY MARY. My poor father.
CRICHTON. If I could have given my life for his.
LADY MARY. You did all a man could do. Indeed I thank you, Crichton. (With some admiration and more wonder.) You are a man.
CRICHTON. Thank you, my lady.
LADY MARY. But it is all so awful. Crichton, is there any hope of a ship coming?
CRICHTON (after hesitation). Of course there is, my lady.
LADY MARY (facing him bravely). Don’t treat me as a child. I have got to know the worst, and to face it. Crichton, the truth.
CRICHTON (reluctantly). We were driven out of our course, my lady; I fear far from the track of commerce.
LADY MARY. Thank you; I understand.
(For a moment, however, she breaks down. Then she clenches her hands and stands erect.)
CRICHTON (watching her, and forgetting perhaps for the moment that they are not just a man and woman). You’re a good pluckt ‘un, my lady.
LADY MARY (falling into the same error). I shall try to be. (Extricating herself.) Crichton, how dare you?
CRICHTON. I beg your ladyship’s pardon; but you are.
(She smiles, as if it were a comfort to be told this even by CRICHTON.)
And until a ship comes we are three men who are going to do our best for you ladies.
LADY MARY (with a curl of the lip). Mr. Ernest does no work.
CRICHTON (cheerily). But he will, my lady.
LADY MARY. I doubt it.
CRICHTON (confidently, but perhaps thoughtlessly). No work—no dinner—will make a great change in Mr. Ernest.
LADY MARY. No work—no dinner. When did you invent that rule, Crichton?
CRICHTON (loaded with bamboo). I didn’t invent it, my lady. I seem to see it growing all over the island.
LADY MARY (disquieted). Crichton, your manner strikes me as curious.
CRICHTON (pained). I hope not, your ladyship.
LADY MARY (determined to have it out with him). You are not implying anything so unnatural, I presume, as that if I and my sisters don’t work there will be no dinner for us?
CRICHTON (brightly). If it is unnatural, my lady, that is the end of it.
LADY MARY. If? Now I understand. The perfect servant at home holds that we are all equal now. I see.
CRICHTON (wounded to the quick). My lady, can you think me so inconsistent?
LADY MARY. That is it.
CRICHTON (earnestly). My lady, I disbelieved in equality at home because it was against nature, and for that same reason I as utterly disbelieve in it on an island.
LADY MARY (relieved by his obvious sincerity). I apologise.
CRICHTON (continuing unfortunately). There must always, my lady, be one to command and others to obey.
LADY MARY (satisfied). One to command, others to obey. Yes. (Then suddenly she realises that there may be a dire meaning in his confident words.) Crichton!
CRICHTON (who has intended no dire meaning). What is it, my lady?
(But she only stares into his face and then hurries from him.)

Barrie, J.M. The Admirable Crichton. 1902. https://www.gutenberg.org/files/3490/3490-h/3490-h.htm. Retrieved August 25, 2018.