[The cottage door opens, shewing a fine starlit night without; and Mrs Warren, her shoulders wrapped in a shawl borrowed from Vivie, enters, followed by Frank, who throws his cap on the window seat.  She has had enough of walking, and gives a gasp of relief as she unpins her hat; takes it off; sticks the pin through the crown; and puts it on the table.]

Mrs Warren.  O Lord!  I don’t know which is the worst of the country, the walking or the sitting at home with nothing to do.  I could do with a whisky and soda now very well, if only they had such a things in this place.

Frank.  Perhaps Vivie’s got some.

Mrs Warren.  Nonsense!  What would a young girl like her be doing with such things!  Never mind:  it don’t matter.  I wonder how she passes her time here!  I’d a good deal rather be in Vienna.

Frank.  Let me take you there. [He helps her to take off her shawl, gallantly giving her shoulders a very perceptible squeeze as he does so].

Mrs Warren.  Ah! would you?  I’m beginning to think youre a chip of the old block.

Frank.  Like the gov’nor, eh? [He hangs the shawl on the nearest chair, and sits down].

Mrs Warren.  Never you mind.  What do you know about such things?

Youre only a boy. [She goes to the hearth to be farther from temptation].

Frank.  Do come to Vienna with me?  It’d be ever such larks.

Mrs Warren.  No, thank you.  Vienna is no place for you—­at least not until youre a little older. [She nods at him to emphasize this piece of advice.  He makes a mock-piteous face, belied by his laughing eyes.  She looks at him; then comes back to him].  Now, look here, little boy [taking his face in her hands and turning it up to her]:  I know you through and through by your likeness to your father, better than you know yourself.  Don’t you go taking any silly ideas into your head about me.  Do you hear?

Frank [gallantly wooing her with his voice] Can’t help it, my dear Mrs Warren:  it runs in the family.

[She pretends to box his ears; then looks at the pretty laughing upturned face of a moment, tempted.  At last she kisses him, and immediately turns away, out of patience with herself.]

Mrs Warren.  There!  I shouldn’t have done that.  I am wicked.  Never you mind, my dear:  it’s only a motherly kiss.  Go and make love to Vivie.

Frank.  So I have.

Mrs Warren [turning on him with a sharp note of alarm in her voice]
What!

Frank.  Vivie and I are ever such chums.

Mrs Warren.  What do you mean?  Now see here:  I won’t have any young scamp tampering with my little girl.  Do you hear?  I won’t have it.

Frank [quite unabashed] My dear Mrs Warren:  don’t you be alarmed.  My intentions are honorable:  ever so honorable; and your little girl is jolly well able to take care of herself.  She don’t need looking after half so much as her mother.  She ain’t so handsome, you know.