Rev.  S. [rising, startled out of his professional manner into real force and sincerity] Frank, once and for all, it’s out of the question.  Mrs Warren will tell you that it’s not to be thought of.

Crofts.  Of course not.

Frank [with enchanting placidity] Is that so, Mrs Warren?

Mrs Warren [reflectively] Well, Sam, I don’t know.  If the girl wants to get married, no good can come of keeping her unmarried.

Rev.  S. [astounded] But married to him!—­your daughter to my son!  Only think:  it’s impossible.

Crofts.  Of course it’s impossible.  Don’t be a fool, Kitty.

Mrs Warren [nettled] Why not?  Isn’t my daughter good enough for your son?

Rev.  S. But surely, my dear Mrs Warren, you know the reasons—­

Mrs Warren [defiantly] I know no reasons.  If you know any, you can tell them to the lad, or to the girl, or to your congregation, if you like.

Rev.  S. [collapsing helplessly into his chair] You know very well that I couldn’t tell anyone the reasons.  But my boy will believe me when I tell him there a r e reasons.

Frank.  Quite right, Dad:  he will.  But has your boy’s conduct ever been influenced by your reasons?

Crofts.  You can’t marry her; and thats all about it. [He gets up and stands on the hearth, with his back to the fireplace, frowning determinedly].

Mrs Warren [turning on him sharply] What have you got to do with it, pray?

Frank [with his prettiest lyrical cadence] Precisely what I was going to ask, myself, in my own graceful fashion.

Crofts [to Mrs Warren] I suppose you don’t want to marry the girl to a man younger than herself and without either a profession or twopence to keep her on.  Ask Sam, if you don’t believe me. [To the parson] How much more money are you going to give him?

Rev.  S. Not another penny.  He has had his patrimony; and he spent the last of it in July. [Mrs Warren’s face falls].

Crofts [watching her] There!  I told you. [He resumes his place on the settle and puts his legs on the seat again, as if the matter were finally disposed of].

Frank [plaintively] This is ever so mercenary.  Do you suppose Miss Warren’s going to marry for money?  If we love one another—­

Mrs Warren.  Thank you.  Your love’s a pretty cheap commodity, my lad.  If you have no means of keeping a wife, that settles it; you can’t have Vivie.

Frank [much amused] What do y o u say, gov’nor, eh?

Rev.  S. I agree with Mrs Warren.

Frank.  And good old Crofts has already expressed his opinion.

Crofts [turning angrily on his elbow] Look here:  I want none of your cheek.

Frank [pointedly] I’m e v e r so sorry to surprise you, Crofts; but you allowed yourself the liberty of speaking to me like a father a moment ago.  One father is enough, thank you.