PRAED. No, pray, pray, my dear Frank, remember!  He is your father.

FRANK.  I give him due credit for that. [Rising and flinging down his paper] But just imagine his telling Crofts to bring the Warrens over here!  He must have been ever so drunk.  You know, my dear Praddy, my mother wouldn’t stand Mrs Warren for a moment.  Vivie mustn’t come here until she’s gone back to town.

PRAED. But your mother doesn’t know anything about Mrs Warren, does she? [He picks up the paper and sits down to read it].

FRANK.  I don’t know.  Her journey to town looks as if she did.  Not that my mother would mind in the ordinary way:  she has stuck like a brick to lots of women who had got into trouble.  But they were all nice women.  Thats what makes the real difference.  Mrs Warren, no doubt, has her merits; but she’s ever so rowdy; and my mother simply wouldn’t put up with her.  So—­hallo! [This exclamation is provoked by the reappearance of the clergyman, who comes out of the house in haste and dismay].

REV.  S. Frank:  Mrs Warren and her daughter are coming across the heath with Crofts:  I saw them from the study windows.  What am I to say about your mother?

FRANK.  Stick on your hat and go out and say how delighted you are to see them; and that Frank’s in the garden; and that mother and Bessie have been called to the bedside of a sick relative, and were ever so sorry they couldn’t stop; and that you hope Mrs Warren slept well; and—­and—­say any blessed thing except the truth, and leave the rest to Providence.

REV.  S. But how are we to get rid of them afterwards?

FRANK.  Theres no time to think of that now.  Here! [He bounds into the house].

REV.  S. He’s so impetuous.  I don’t know what to do with him, Mr Praed.

FRANK [returning with a clerical felt hat, which he claps on his father’s head].  Now:  off with you. [Rushing him through the gate].  Praed and I’ll wait here, to give the thing an unpremeditated air. [The clergyman, dazed but obedient, hurries off].

FRANK.  We must get the old girl back to town somehow, Praed.  Come!  Honestly, dear Praddy, do you like seeing them together?

PRAED. Oh, why not?

FRANK [his teeth on edge] Don’t it make your flesh creep ever so little? that wicked old devil, up to every villainy under the sun, I’ll swear, and Vivie—­ugh!

PRAED. Hush, pray.  Theyre coming.

[The clergyman and Crofts are seen coming along the road, followed by Mrs Warren and Vivie walking affectionately together.]

FRANK.  Look:  she actually has her arm round the old woman’s waist.  It’s her right arm:  she began it.  She’s gone sentimental, by God!  Ugh! ugh!  Now do you feel the creeps? [The clergyman opens the gate:  and Mrs Warren and Vivie pass him and stand in the middle of the garden looking at the house.  Frank, in an ecstasy of dissimulation, turns gaily to Mrs Warren, exclaiming] Ever so delighted to see you, Mrs Warren.  This quiet old rectory garden becomes you perfectly.