REV.  S. I did not observe that Sir George drank excessively.

FRANK.  You were not in a condition to, gov’nor.

REV.  S. Do you mean to say that I—?

FRANK [calmly] I never saw a beneficed clergyman less sober.  The anecdotes you told about your past career were so awful that I really don’t think Praed would have passed the night under your roof if it hadnt been for the way my mother and he took to one another.

REV.  S. Nonsense, sir.  I am Sir George Crofts’ host.  I must talk to him about something; and he has only one subject.  Where is Mr Praed now?

FRANK.  He is driving my mother and Bessie to the station.

REV.  S. Is Crofts up yet?

FRANK.  Oh, long ago.  He hasn’t turned a hair:  he’s in much better practice than you.  Has kept it up ever since, probably.  He’s taken himself off somewhere to smoke.

[Frank resumes his paper.  The parson turns disconsolately towards the gate; then comes back irresolutely.]

REV.  S. Er—­Frank.

FRANK.  Yes.

REV.  S. Do you think the Warrens will expect to be asked here after yesterday afternoon?

FRANK.  Theyve been asked already.

REV.  S. [appalled] What!!!

FRANK.  Crofts informed us at breakfast that you told him to bring Mrs Warren and Vivie over here to-day, and to invite them to make this house their home.  My mother then found she must go to town by the 11.13 train.

REV.  S. [with despairing vehemence] I never gave any such invitation.  I never thought of such a thing.

FRANK [compassionately] How do you know, gov’nor, what you said and thought last night?

PRAED [coming in through the hedge] Good morning.

REV.  S. Good morning.  I must apologize for not having met you at breakfast.  I have a touch of—­of—­

FRANK.  Clergyman’s sore throat, Praed.  Fortunately not chronic.

PRAED [changing the subject] Well I must say your house is in a charming spot here.  Really most charming.

REV.  S. Yes:  it is indeed.  Frank will take you for a walk, Mr Praed, if you like.  I’ll ask you to excuse me:  I must take the opportunity to write my sermon while Mrs Gardner is away and you are all amusing yourselves.  You won’t mind, will you?

PRAED. Certainly not.  Don’t stand on the slightest ceremony with me.

REV.  S. Thank you.  I’ll—­er—­er—­[He stammers his way to the porch and vanishes into the house].

PRAED. Curious thing it must be writing a sermon every week.

FRANK.  Ever so curious, if he did it.  He buys em.  He’s gone for some soda water.

PRAED. My dear boy:  I wish you would be more respectful to your father.  You know you can be so nice when you like.

FRANK.  My dear Praddy:  you forget that I have to live with the governor.  When two people live together—­it don’t matter whether theyre father and son or husband and wife or brother and sister—­they can’t keep up the polite humbug thats so easy for ten minutes on an afternoon call.  Now the governor, who unites to many admirable domestic qualities the irresoluteness of a sheep and the pompousness and aggressiveness of a jackass—­