tting his hat on the settle and his stick in the chimney
corner] They went up the hill. We went to the village. I wanted a drink.
[He sits down on the settle, putting his legs up along the seat].

MRS WARREN. Well, she oughtn't to go off like that without telling me.
[To Frank] Get your father a chair, Frank: where are your manners?
[Frank springs up and gracefully offers his father his chair; then takes
another from the wall and sits down at the table, in the middle, with
his father on his right and Mrs Warren on his left]. George: where are
you going to stay to-night? You can't stay here. And whats Praddy going
to do?

CROFTS. Gardner'll put me up.

MRS WARREN. Oh, no doubt you've taken care of yourself! But what about
Praddy?

CROFTS. Don't know. I suppose he can sleep at the inn.

MRS WARREN. Havn't you room for him, Sam?

REV. S. Well--er--you see, as rector here, I am not free to do as I
like. Er--what is Mr Praed's social position?

MRS WARREN. Oh, he's all right: he's an architect. What an old
stick-in-the-mud you are, Sam!

FRANK. Yes, it's all right, gov'nor. He built that place down in Wales
for the Duke. Caernarvon Castle they call it. You must have heard of it.
[He winks with lightning smartness at Mrs Warren, and regards his father
blandly].

REV. S. Oh, in that case, of course we shall only be too happy. I
suppose he knows the Duke personally.

FRANK. Oh, ever so intimately! We can stick him in Georgina's old room.

MRS WARREN. Well, thats settled. Now if those two would only come in and
let us have supper. Theyve no right to stay out after dark like this.

CROFTS [aggressively] What harm are they doing you?

MRS WARREN. Well, harm or not, I don't like it.

FRANK. Better not wait for them, Mrs Warren. Praed will stay out as
long as possible. He has never known before what it is to stray over the
heath on a summer night with my Vivie.

CROFTS [sitting up in some consternation] I say, you know! Come!

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: i