Mrs Warren. This quiet
old rectory garden becomes you perfectly.

MRS WARREN. Well, I never! Did you hear that, George? He says I look
well in a quiet old rectory garden.

REV. S. [still holding the gate for Crofts, who loafs through it,
heavily bored] You look well everywhere, Mrs Warren.

FRANK. Bravo, gov'nor! Now look here: lets have a treat before lunch.
First lets see the church. Everyone has to do that. It's a regular old
thirteenth century church, you know: the gov'nor's ever so fond of it,
because he got up a restoration fund and had it completely rebuilt six
years ago. Praed will be able to shew its points.

PRAED [rising] Certainly, if the restoration has left any to shew.

REV. S. [mooning hospitably at them] I shall be pleased, I'm sure, if
Sir George and Mrs Warren really care about it.

MRS WARREN. Oh, come along and get it over.

CROFTS [turning back toward the gate] I've no objection.

REV. S. Not that way. We go through the fields, if you don't mind. Round
here. [He leads the way by the little path through the box hedge].

CROFTS. Oh, all right. [He goes with the parson].

[Praed follows with Mrs Warren. Vivie does not stir: she watches them
until they have gone, with all the lines of purpose in her face marking
it strongly.]

FRANK. Ain't you coming?

VIVIE. No. I want to give you a warning, Frank. You were making fun of
my mother just now when you said that about the rectory garden. That is
barred in the future. Please treat my mother with as much respect as you
treat your own.

FRANK. My dear Viv: she wouldn't appreciate it: the two cases require
different treatment. But what on earth has happened to you? Last night
we were perfectly agreed as to your mother and her set. This morning I
find you attitudinizing sentimentally with your arm around your parent's
waist.

VIVIE [flushing] Attitudinizing!

FRANK. That was how it struck me. First time I ever saw you do a
second-rate thing.

VIVIE [controlling herself] Yes, Frank: there has been a change: but I
don't think it a change for the worse. Yesterday I was a little prig.

FRANK. And today?

VIVIE [wincing; then looking at him steadily] Today I know my mother
better than you do.

FRANK. Heaven forbid!

VIVIE. What do you mean?

FRANK. Viv: theres a freemasonry among thoroughly immoral people that
you know nothing of. You've too much character. _That's_ the bond
between your mother and me: that's why I know her better than