The parlour in Mrs. Munning's house, the window of which looks out to a bowling green. The room is furnished with chairs and sofa, upholstered in horsehair. It is not quite shabby, but well used. The ornaments crowded on the mantelpiece are Mid-Victorian survivals. There is a bookshelf on the wall above the bureau. The wall-paper is flowered; there is no gas, but lamp on table. In the window is a small model in plaster of a wedding-cake. It should be quite small and unostentatious. Men's coats are hung behind door. The light is of a spring afternoon.

As the curtain rises, Mrs. Munning, who is fifty-five and hard featured, is dusting the ornaments on the mantel. She is in her best clothes, which are black, protected by a dirty apron. She looks at the clock impatiently. It strikes four. She goes to window and looks out. She mutters, "And time too" and goes to door. She opens it and speaks through it.

MRS. MUNNING. Get a move on, now. Take your things off in there and come along quick.

SALLY (off). Yes, Mrs. Munning.

MRS. MUNNING. Hurry up when I tell you. This is a nice time of day to come.

SALLY (entering, a pretty, country girl of eighteen in print frock). You told me to come o' Thursday and Thursday 'tis.

MRS. MUNNING. It's been Thursday a long time.

SALLY. You never said no hour. And mother said to me, she says——

MRS. MUNNING. Never mind what she said. You take hold of that duster and let me see you shape.

SALLY. Yes, Mrs. Munning. (She takes it and dusts at mantel.)

MRS. MUNNING. Take care of those ornaments now, Sally.

SALLY. Now don't you fret yourself. I'm not the breaking sort. You can stop my wages for all I'm like to break.

MRS. MUNNING. That's of course.

SALLY. I was telling you. Mother, she says to me, you stay at home for your dinner, she says, and that'll save Mrs. Munning a bit; and I stayed willing because we'd trotters to-day and they're a dish that I've a relish for.

MRS. MUNNING. You could have gone home to your dinner.

SALLY. And I couldn't. Not when I'd once begun with you. Meals and all, you said, and a bargain's a bargain.

MRS. MUNNING. Well, you should have come this morning. Leaving me all to do.

SALLY. Mother didn't know you were in a hurry.

MRS. MUNNING. She ought to, then. I told her. I told her that when Miss Cavender came this afternoon I wanted her to take you for a regular maid. And don't you forget it neither, Sally, and go giving it away you're not always here.

SALLY. Suppose she asks me, Mrs. Munning?

MRS. MUNNING. If you'll shape properly, she'll never think but what you're regular. That's what I wanted you early for. To run you round and show you the ways of the house.

SALLY. Eh, but I don't need showing. Didn't I spring-clean for you last year? I'll manage easy.

MRS. MUNNING. You'll have to now. And don't come asking me where things are kept, not when Miss Cavender can hear you ask.

SALLY. Oh, don't you worry, Mrs. Munning. If any one gives it away to Miss Cavender that I've not been here for years and years, it'll not be me. Find my way about a strange house blindfold, I can. It's a natural gift.

(Paul Munning enters, a man of thirty, well-built, but with meanness stamped upon an otherwise not unattractive face. He wears light clothes with a grey bowler hat, and a buttonhole.)

SALLY. Here's Mr. Paul. Good-afternoon, sir.

(Paul grunts. Mrs. Munning turns.)

PAUL. Has she come yet?

MRS. MUNNING. Not yet. Have you——?

(Paul indicates Sally.)

Um. This room will do now, Sally.

SALLY. It will, though I says it that did it.

MRS. MUNNING. Did you! I fancied I did it myself.

SALLY. You did the rough, Mrs. Munning, but I always say it's the finishing touch that counts with dusting and I reckon I did that.

MRS. MUNNING. Well, now you can go to the kitchen and get the kettle on for tea.

SALLY. You'll be having your tea in here, won't you?

MRS. MUNNING. Yes.

SALLY. All right. You needn't raise a hand to it. I'll see to everything.

(Sally goes out.)

MRS. MUNNING. She's a Miss Know-all, she is.

PAUL. Won't she do?

MRS. MUNNING. She'll have to do. Virginia's got to think we keep a maid, and Sally's the only one who'd come at our price.

PAUL (sitting, gloomily). It's great expense.

MRS. MUNNING. No helping that. It's got to be. We can't have Virginia going home and telling all her aunt's too poor to keep a servant. Did you get that order?

PAUL. No.

MRS. MUNNING. Not Taylor's?

PAUL. Wilson, of Norton Parva, is catering for Mrs. Taylor's wedding.

MRS. MUNNING. You mean to say that Wilson got there first?

PAUL. He hadn't been.

MRS. MUNNING. Then how's he got the order?

PAUL. He's going to get it. It's the same old tale. They'd heard our weddings aren't as pleasant as they used to be. Knew we were nearest, but they thought they'd give Wilson a chance. A good ten pounds gone from us there.

MRS. MUNNING. Well, I don't know.

PAUL. And I don't know. If I knew I'd alter it. We're doing things no different from what we always did, and yet it's got about our style's gone off. It's not gone off.

MRS. MUNNING. I'm sure it's not. What do they say? Do they tell you anything?

PAUL. Folks with a wedding in their house are too uplifted to say much. They don't explain. What I make out is we're not so hearty as we used to be.

MRS. MUNNING. Hearty?

PAUL. I've heard it said so. God knows what it means. I'm sure I try to be hearty. It's prejudice, and nothing else.

MRS. MUNNING. And word's passed round against us.

PAUL. Seems so.

MRS. MUNNING. It's very bad, Paul.

PAUL. Bad? Don't I know it's bad? Couldn't be worse if it tried. We'll have the shutters up altogether at this rate. The joinery business doesn't keep us alive, and if the catering goes to ruin, we'll go along with it. That's all.

MRS. MUNNING. That's all, is it? Can't you up and fight it? You're losing heart.

PAUL. Enough to make me, too. You can fight a thing you see, but you can't fight a prejudice. It's like hitting air. I tell you what, mother, this is no time to have a guest, and a guest that calls for a servant.

MRS. MUNNING. We can't afford to lose a chance.

PAUL. Chance of what?

MRS. MUNNING. There's money in that family, and when my sister writes to me and says Virginia's not been well and needs the country air, I say it's folly not to have her here, cost what it may.

PAUL. There's money and they'll keep it to themselves.

MRS. MUNNING. I'm not the one to go expecting much, but you never know, and it 'ud be no more than sisterly of Annie to remember me in her will.

PAUL. Oh well, she's coming and we're in for it. How long before we see the back of her?

MRS. MUNNING. The doctor told her mother it'll take a month to put her right.

PAUL. A month! A month! Good Lord! There's Sally at six shillings a week wages, that's one pound four, and as much again for keep, is two pounds eight, and Virginia an invalid 'll cost——

MRS. MUNNING. She's not an invalid. She's just run down.

PAUL. I know, and the Lord knows what it'll cost in fancy goods to wind her up. You'll see no change from five pounds for this affair.

MRS. MUNNING. I say it's worth it.

PAUL. And I hope you're right.

MRS. MUNNING. We'll see. You'd better change your clothes now, Paul.

PAUL. Change? What for?

MRS. MUNNING. When I married your father I married a joiner and I didn't see cause to tell our Annie that he couldn't make ends meet till I turned to and made a catering business for him as well, me being apprenticed to the confectionery when he came courting me. I didn't tell them and I haven't told to this day.

PAUL. Yes, but if the girl's to stay a month she's bound to know it soon or late.

MRS. MUNNING. Then let her know it late. There's a lot in first impressions.

PAUL. Why, there's Mr. Abbott's wedding-party tomorrow.

MRS. MUNNING. That's not to-day, is it? And we'll send her for a walk to-morrow with Zack, out of the way.

PAUL. About all he's fit for.

MRS. MUNNING. You get your gay clothes changed,

PAUL, or she'll ask questions at once. I've tea to see to now. (Opening door.) Sally!

SALLY (appearing with folded cloth). Now it's all right, Mrs. Munning. I'm finding all I want.

(Paul goes out. Sally unfolds and lays on table a ragged white cloth.)

MRS. MUNNING. What do you call that?

SALLY. Tea-cloth, isn't it?

MRS. MUNNING. Yes, for the kitchen. I've got one here for this room. (She opens drawer in table and takes out cloth.)

SALLY (watching). Oh! Company cloth, like.

MRS. MUNNING. Take the other back.

(Sally is going.)

And here, Sally.

SALLY (turning). Yes, Mrs. Munning.

MRS. MUNNING (going to window, getting the wedding-cake model). Take this with you and put it in the dresser drawer. Sally. The dresser drawer!

MRS. MUNNING. And mind you close it.

SALLY. Well I—— Oh, I see. You're hiding it.

MRS. MUNNING. We don't want Miss Cavender to be learning everything at once.

SALLY. A nod's as good as a wink to me. I'm mum.

(Sally goes out, with model and cloth, nodding sagely. Mrs. Munning carefully spreads the new cloth on table, putting the lamp on the bureau. Sally re-enters with tray, which she places on the table with a flourish. Mrs. Munning surveys the tray.)

MRS. MUNNING. That'll not do, Sally.

SALLY. What's wrong now?

MRS. MUNNING. You mustn't bring in the loaf like that. I want cut bread and butter.

SALLY. Oh, well I call that making work, especially with a loaf like that, all over nobbly bits of crust that's twice as sweet to eat for tearing off.

MRS. MUNNING. And that cress?

SALLY (bridling). Well?

MRS. MUNNING. It's for cress sandwiches.

SALLY. Oh? I didn't see no ham nor nothink.

MRS. MUNNING. Cress sandwiches, Sally.

SALLY. How can they be sandwiches without there's meat?

MRS. MUNNING. Can you cut them or must I do it myself?

SALLY. Can I? Of course I can. But I call it a finicky way of doing things. Making a nuisance of a simple job like eating cress. What are fingers for?

MRS. MUNNING. That will do, Sally. I want no grumbling.

(Sally takes up loaf and cress.)

SALLY. Grumbling? There never was nobody less of a grumbler than me. I only speak my mind.

MRS. MUNNING. Well, you get along and cut that bread up now. I want things looking nice. Lord I If that isn't the fly now. Quick, Sally! Put those plates down in yonder and get back to the door. (She hustles Sally out. By the door she takes off her apron, and pitches it through door.) Hang that up sometime. Come along, now. Get to the front door.

(Sally re-enters.)

SALLY. It's all right, Mrs. Munning. Don't you get yourself into a tear. There's another day to-morrow. (Sally crosses to front door and exit.)

(Mrs. Munning becomes very much the lady of leisure. She pats her hair, takes a book from shelf and sits in arm-chair, reading. Sally re-enters with Virginia, a well-dressed girl of the urban type with plenty of high spirits and some little indication of recent illness.)

SALLY. The young lady's here.

(Sally remains, an interested spectator.)

MRS. MUNNING (marking her place in the book, and rising). Well, so this is Virginia. How you've grown!

VIRGINIA. How are you, Aunt Elizabeth?

MRS. MUNNING. I'm strong and hearty, child. It's you that's not.

VIRGINIA. Oh, I'm all right now, aunt.

MRS. MUNNING. You're pale.

VIRGINIA. But not for long in this air of yours. There isn't much the matter with me.

MRS. MUNNING. Your mother wrote a different tale from that.

VIRGINIA. Mother's a dear old fuss.

MRS. MUNNING. How is she?

VIRGINIA. She's splendid, thanks.

MRS. MUNNING. Well, give Sally your coat and sit down. Virginia. Thanks.

(Sally takes her coat, then stands examining it.)

MRS. MUNNING. That's right. And now, Virginia——

VIRGINIA. Jenny, please, aunt.

MRS. MUNNING. Jenny!

VIRGINIA. Virginia's no name to live with.

MRS. MUNNING. Well, as you like. Why don't you sit?

VIRGINIA. I didn't pay the flyman.

MRS. MUNNING. As if we'd let you! It'll be a pleasure to Paul to see to that. You'll remember Paul?

VIRGINIA. Very vaguely. As a tiny boy.

MRS. MUNNING. He's a big man now. He'll be helping the flyman up with your boxes, only we don't hear them because this house is so extraordinarily well-built you can't hear sounds in it at all. It's a perfect refuge of peace. Just what you want to cure your nerves with quiet and——

(Several loud bumps are heard above. Mrs. Munning looks disconcerted.)

VIRGINIA (quickly). I'm afraid my box is very heavy. Mrs. Munning (recovering). Oh, Paul won't mind. He's wonderfully strong. Will you have tea now or would you rather go to your room first? Sally shall show you. Virginia (rising). Thank you.

MRS. MUNNING (speaking at Sally). Our guest room is directly over here.

(Virginia nods and goes out.)

SALLY. That's your room, Mrs. Munning.

MRS. MUNNING. You keep that to yourself.

(Sally nods, and goes out after Virginia. Mrs. Munning fusses a moment at the tea tablet then suddenly thinking, goes to the window and opens it.)

(Calling softly). Zack! Zack! Zack!

(Paul enters. He has changed to a brown suit of country cut.)

PAUL. What do you want Zack for? (He speaks at her back.)

MRS. MUNNING (turning violently). Eh? Oh, it's you.

PAUL. Yes. What's to do?

MRS. MUNNING. I've had so much on hand with that Sally turning up so late that it slipped my mind about Zack.

PAUL. What about Zack?

MRS. MUNNING. I've forgotten to warn him.

PAUL. Warn?

MRS. MUNNING. About the catering, and Sally and so on. If we don't make it as plain to him as Monday's dinner he'll give us away in the inside of two minutes. You know what Zack is.

PAUL. I'd leave him alone. He's safer out of the way than in it.

MRS. MUNNING. That'll not do. He'll chose the best wrong time for turning up. Trust Zack for doing something awkward.

PAUL (going l.). I'll have a look round.

MRS. MUNNING. As like as not the wastrel's sleeping somewhere.

PAUL. Or reading in a book.

MRS. MUNNING. I'll give him read.

(Enter Sally).

You've been a fine time showing Miss Cavender her room. (Exit Paul.)

SALLY. I've been helping her undo her box, Mrs. Munning.

MRS. MUNNING. Trust you for prying, I suppose. Sally. I didn't look before she asked me. But when I did, I saw some sights. The ironing she'll make. Frills! They're the width of my hand and more.

MRS. MUNNING (angrily). Will you go into the kitchen and get those sandwiches cut?

SALLY. I'm going. (She gets to door, then turns.) But I'll tell you this much, Mrs. Munning, that there'll be a row of eyes on washing day a-watching me hang Miss Cavender's underlinen on the line. This village hasn't seen such sights before.

MRS. MUNNING. You mind your own business in there and don't waste time. I'll ring for tea. (She pushes Sally out, then goes to window.) Can't you find him, Paul? Paul. Not yet. (He is outside window.)

MRS. MUNNING. Best leave it, then. If he's asleep he may sleep on till after tea and then we'll tell him quietly. Paul. What! Zack sleep while there's eating going on? Mrs. Munning. We'll have to chance it, Paul. I want you here when she comes down wherever Zack may be. You didn't see her upstairs?

PAUL. No. Dodged her.

MRS. MUNNING. That's right.

(Paul comes from window and enters by door. Mrs. Munning closes window, and then arranges table again, fussily.)

PAUL (grumbling). Tea in here.

MRS. MUNNING. Why, of course.

(Paul sits sulkily in arm-chair, legs outstretched, hands in pocket.)

PAUL. It's a sight more comfortable in the kitchen. This is a foul upset of all our ways.

MRS. MUNNING. Wait till you see Virginia.

PAUL. I don't need seeing her. I carried up her traps and that's enough to tell me all I want to know.

MRS. MUNNING. A girl must have clothes, Paul.

PAUL. I'd rather carry them than pay for them, that's true. A dressed-up, peeked and pampered town girl with a head full of fancies and——

MRS. MUNNING. I'm sure she isn't peeked.

PAUL. Oh? Isn't she ill, or was her mother lying?

MRS. MUNNING. She's been ill and she's getting better now.

PAUL. That's worse. She'll eat us out of house and home Convalescents always eat like elephants.

MRS. MUNNING. I wish you'd think ahead.

PAUL. I do. To the grocer's bills she'll make.

MRS. MUNNING. Well, you think to something a bit more pleasant that'll bring a smile to your face. You've a sour look on you sometimes.

PAUL. Enough to make me sour, too.

MRS. MUNNING. I've told you why she's here. It's not because I love her, nor her mother neither, but there's money at that end of the family and I'm a believer in keeping on the sweet side of rich relations and giving Providence a friendly lead.

PAUL. I can look pleasant all right when I'm being photographed with a wedding-group, but looking pleasant for a month on end! It'll take some doing, I give you my word.

(Virginia enters in a light spring frock. Paul rises.)

MRS. MUNNING. This is Paul, Jenny.

VIRGINIA. I'm very glad to see you, Cousin Paul. It's a long time since we met.

PAUL (not ungraciously). I don't remember meeting you at all.

MRS. MUNNING (up to bureau, from which she gets a large old-fashioned portrait album). Don't you? I'll show you when you met. Sit down, Jenny.

VIRGINIA (sitting). Thanks.

MRS. MUNNING (sitting by her with the album. Paul stands behind). I've got you both in this album. Taken together.

PAUL. Oh?

(Mrs. Munning finds the photograph.)

VIRGINIA. Oh yes. Mother has one of that at home.

MRS. MUNNING. It was taken at your house. Look at it, Paul. Weren't you a loving pair?

PAUL. Is that me?

MRS. MUNNING. That's you.

VIRGINIA. Don't you look funny?

PAUL. You a baby and me a little lad. No wonder I'd forgotten it.

MRS. MUNNING. You've both come on a bit since then. Ring the bell for tea, Paul.

(Paul looks surprised, then rings.)

VIRGINIA (turning over leaves). Is this Paul, too?

MRS. MUNNING. Yes. Paul at five. (Turning). And there he is at ten, and there at twelve and——

VIRGINIA. Yes. But haven't I another cousin, Aunt Elizabeth?

MRS. MUNNING. Yes. Yes, but——

PAUL. He makes a bad photograph.

VIRGINIA. Some people do. But they are often all the better in the flesh. Will he be in to tea?

MRS. MUNNING. Well——

VIRGINIA. Isn't he at home?

(Sally enters with tea, sandwiches, etc.)

PAUL. Oh yes. But we're very busy in the joiner's shop just now.

(Sally stops short and looks at him.)

MRS. MUNNING. Come along, Sally.

VIRGINIA. Oh, dear! But of course I'm glad to know your business does so well. I mean I suppose it does if my cousin is too busy to come in to tea.

MRS. MUNNING. We'll send for him. Sally, tell Mr. Zachary to come.

SALLY. Mr. Zachary?

MRS. MUNNING. Yes.

SALLY. Do you mean Zack?

Mrs Munning. Tell Mr. Zachary tea's ready and his cousin's come.

SALLY. But I don't know where he is. He's such a one for getting into holes and corners and——

PAUL. You can find him, can't you?

SALLY. I can try. And I'll start with his bed, and all. It's ten to one he's lying on it.

MRS. MUNNING. Sally, he's——

SALLY. Are you finding him or am I? Because if it's me, I'll look in the likeliest place first.

(Exit Sally.)

MRS. MUNNING. You mustn't expect town courtesy from our country servants, Jenny. May I give you sugar? Virginia. One lump, please.

MRS. MUNNING. And cream?

VIRGINIA. Thanks.

MRS. MUNNING. Paul, Jenny's cup.

(Paul hands it clumsily. While they are occupied the door opens, and Zack enters. He is younger than Paul, but neglect makes him look middle-aged. He wears spectacles and a beard and is dressed shabbily with a carpenter's apron on. Under his left arm is the wedding-cake model.)

ZACK. I knew that was the smell of tea-time, but what are we having it in here for?

MRS. MUNNING. Zack, don't you see your cousin?

(Mrs. Munning pours tea, etc. Virginia rises.)

ZACK. Why, if I'd not forgotten all about her. I am a careless chap. Do you know, Miss Virginia, I forgot to come in to dinner one day last week.

PAUL. That doesn't often happen.

ZACK. It 'ud better not, neither. Gives you a nasty sinking feel towards tea-time to go without your dinner. Well, how are you, Miss Virginia? I'm pleased to meet you.

(Till now Virginia has stood slightly embarrassed and amused. He comes forward now, and Virginia puts out her hand.)

MRS. MUNNING. You'll wash your hand before you touch Jenny's.

ZACK. Maybe I ought. I'm not so frequent at the soap as I might be.

VIRGINIA. I think we'll shake hands as you are.

ZACK. Will you? That's hearty.

(They shake hands. Virginia sits, Zack is about to.)

But——- Oh, Lord!

VIRGINIA. What is it?

ZACK (fingering his coat). I'm not dressed up for a parlour tea. I—— Eh?

(Paul is taking the model from under Zack's arm.)

Oh, yes. Do you know where I found that?

MRS. MUNNING. Put it down.

ZACK (up to window with it). I'll put it in its place. But do you know where I found it?

MRS. MUNNING. Never mind, Zack. It doesn't matter. (To Jenny.) It's only a little window ornament, Jenny.

ZACK (imperviously). I found that on the kitchen dresser. Picked it up as I came through.

(Sally enters. Mrs. Munning's feelings get too much for her. She rises to meet Sally. Paul sees and distracts Virginia's attention.)

PAUL. Will you have more bread and butter, Jenny? Virginia. Thank you, Paul.

SALLY. I can't find—— (Seeing Zack.) Oh, there you are!

MRS. MUNNING (to Sally). I told you to put that model in the dresser drawer.

SALLY. And you told me to cut sandwiches and bread and I've one pair of hands and not a hundred. I left it atop till I'd a minute to spare, and if it's not where I left it some one's moved it. It didn't walk.

(She crosses speaking and exit. Mrs. Munning returns speechlessly to her seat.)

ZACK. Well, I'll change my coat and chance it.

(He changes to a slightly less old coat which hangs behind the door.)

Parlour ways is parlour ways.

VIRGINIA. I do hope you're not going to make a stranger of me, Aunt Elizabeth.

ZACK. And that's no use in here. (Taking off the apron,) Paul. You'll have to make allowances for Zack, Jenny. Virginia. Is he a little——?

PAUL. We don't let it go beyond the family, of course. Virginia. I hope I'm one of you.

PAUL. He was born lazy. That's what's the matter. Zack (returning to table, sitting and eating. Zack can talk and eat at once). I've done a job of work to-day and chance it. Mended that pig-stye at Ballbrook farm.

PAUL. Did you? I daresay there was all of ten minutes' work in that.

ZACK. Took me a couple of hour.

MRS. MUNNING. Then I hoped you charged according. Zack. I charged a shilling.

MRS. MUNNING. For a couple of hour! It's worth half a crown.

ZACK. I charged what I thought fair.

MRS. MUNNING. What you——! Oh well, it's done now.

Where's the shilling?

ZACK (feeling). Oh, it's in my other coat. (He is about to rise.)

PAUL. All right. All right. That'll do later.

ZACK. But I can see I've done wrong thing again. It's like this, Miss Virginia, there's some folk born to do right. They can't do the wrong thing if they tried. Like mother and Paul. I'm different. It's just the other way with me. I can't do right.

MRS. MUNNING. You never spoke a truer word.

ZACK. Same time, you know, I have my use. Oh yes, I've got a use.

MRS. MUNNING. I haven't noticed it.

ZACK. I'll tell you then. Suppose a thing goes wrong.

They do sometimes. Very well. It couldn't be Paul and it couldn't be you, because you're born the other way. It's always me. You don't need to look round for some one to put the blame on. You know it's me. And that's a sort of use now, isn't it?

VIRGINIA. Is it?

ZACK. Think of the time it saves. I'm always handy to be cussed at. Like a cat, you know. Some folks keep a cat or a dog, and when their feelings get too much to hold, they kick the cat. Well, I'm the cat in this house. (He speaks entirely without bitterness. It is all accepted fact.)

PAUL. You sleep like one, but a cat's more use than you. You don't catch mice.

ZACK. I eat more, too. And that's a thing I've tried to master and I can't. You'd be surprised the way I've tried to fight my appetite.

MRS. MUNNING. It's news to me.

ZACK. I own it didn't show. It beat me every time Eating agrees with me. That's where it is. I'm a natural-born eater and I can't go against nature.

MRS. MUNNING. You needn't talk about it.

ZACK. No. But it's like my other ways. It can't be hid. I'm eating now in the parlour as hearty as if it were in the kitchen. And that's not right, is it?

VIRGINIA. I don't know.

ZACK. Parlour's for eating like you didn't mean it, and only played with food to pass the time. I wish I could pretend with food. But the habit's got too strong a hold on me for that. I'll never be a gentleman.

MRS. MUNNING. That'll do, Zack. Talking about yourself with your mouth full. Jenny's heard quite enough.

PAUL. What would you like to do after tea, Jenny?

VIRGINIA. Anything you like. I must just write to mother first to tell her I got here all right.

MRS. MUNNING. Of course.

VIRGINIA. What time does the post go?

MRS. MUNNING. Six o'clock.

VIRGINIA. I'd better write at once. Then I shall be quite at your disposal, cousin.

PAUL. I thought you and mother might go out. The country's looking quite like spring.

ZACK. I've noticed the celandine's in bud.

MRS. MUNNING. Are you too tired for a walk, Jenny?

VIRGINIA. Not at all.

MRS. MUNNING. Then Paul shall take you. Youth with youth.

PAUL. I'm rather busy at the works.

ZACK. Works! And busy!

PAUL (silencing him). Yes, busy. So if you'll excuse me now———

VIRGINIA. Of course.

ZACK. Well! that's a oner.

PAUL. I'll just clear off my work as quickly as I can.

(Exit Paul.)

ZACK. That'll not take long. Busy!

MRS. MUNNING. Paul's busy if you're not. Hadn't you better go and help him?

ZACK. There's no wurk in to help him at. We've never been so slack.

MRS. MUNNING. It's there if you'll go and look for it, and stop making an exhibition of your laziness to your cousin.

ZACK. I haven't finished my tea.

MRS. MUNNING. Every one else has. It's not our fault you came in late. Will you write your letter here, Jenny? (Indicates bureau.)

VIRGINIA. I have notepaper upstairs, aunt.

MRS. MUNNING. And you don't use it in this house. We can run to a sheet of notepaper, I should hope. Oh, I was thinking—— (She opens the portrait album.)

VIRGINIA. Yes?

MRS. MUNNING. No, there's a better one than that. I'll get it for you. I thought you might like to send your mother a photograph of Paul.

VIRGINIA. I'm sure she'll like to have it, aunt.

MRS. MUNNING. Yes. I'll run upstairs and get it you. I've one up there that's better than any of these.

(Exit Mrs. Munning.)

ZACK. There's queer things happening here to-day, Miss Virginia.

VIRGINIA. Are there? Why do you call me Miss Virginia?

ZACK. You're not a married woman, are you?

VIRGINIA. Of course not. But I don't call you Mr. Zachary.

ZACK. Nor nobody else neither. Mr. Zachary! I'd not know who you meant.

VIRGINIA. Why don't you call me Jenny, like the others do?

ZACK. I'm not same as the others, you see.

VIRGINIA. You're my cousin just as much as Paul is.

ZACK. I suppose that's true. There's funny things in nature, too. By gum, there are. To think of the likes of me being own cousin to the likes of you.

VIRGINIA. So you'll call me Jenny.

ZACK. I'd like to, if you think it's quite respectful.

VIRGINIA. Bother respect. I'm Jenny and you're Zack, and that's settled.

ZACK. Well, I never thought—eh, but we're getting on champion, Jenny. I'm still a bit worried in my mind, though.

VIRGINIA. Not about my name?

ZACK. Oh no. Settled's settled. It's, well—this for a start. (He takes up the model.) What did mother want to hide it away for?

VIRGINIA. What is it, Zack?

ZACK (holding it towards her). You can see what it is.

VIRGINIA. A wedding cake?

ZACK. Aye, but you wouldn't thank me for a slice of this. It's plaster. How are folks to know we are caterers unless they can see that in the window? It's like keeping a pub and putting your sign away.

VIRGINIA. But I thought you were joiners.

ZACK. We crack to be because joinery was father's trade. But it's mother's trade we mostly live by. She's a masterpiece at cooking, only the business isn't thriving. Wedding spreads are the best part of it. Folk are a bit slow at getting wed, some road.

VIRGINIA. I don't think aunt wanted me to know about this, Zack.

ZACK. She's no cause to hide it, then. Father was a bit like me, not much inclined to work, and I reckon I'm proud of my mother for working for two. But things aren't what they were. Folks won't spend like they used to. They buy furniture instead of feasting so much. And our weddings have a bad name, too. I don't know how it is. I'm sure Paul tries.

VIRGINIA. And do you go to them?

ZACK. Not now, with things so bad. I used to go until my clothes wore out—well, they weren't mine at all properly speaking. They were father's when he was alive and then I had them, but I'm hard on clothes somehow. I'm a great expense all ways there are, with being a big eater and all. And when my dress coat gave out at the seams and got that shiny you could see your face in it, mother wouldn't buy me another, and so I don't go now. It's been a sorrow to me, too. I used to take a lot of pleasure in seeing others enjoy themselves. But I wasn't any use, not real use, like Paul. I couldn't boss things like he does. I just was there and tried to tell the old maids that their day would come. But I couldn't even do my fair share of waiting because of a weakness that I have.

VIRGINIA. A weakness! Zack, it isn't——

ZACK. Oh, no. Not that. I'm a teetotaller, Jenny. I get that worked up with the hearty feeling of it that I break the plates. My hand's unsteady. (Takes plates from table.) See! That's steady enough? Yes, but get me waiting at a table full of wedding guests and it seems I've got to break the plates to show my pleasure. And it's not wilful. It's not indeed. It's just anxiety to do things right that makes me do them wrong. Mother's quite right. I'm not a bit of good, but I do miss the outings all the same.

VIRGINIA. Poor Zack. I really must get to my letter now, and I think I'll go upstairs after all.

ZACK. I'm not driving you away?

VIRGINIA. Of course you're not.

(Mrs. Munning enters r.)

MRS. MUNNING. I'm sorry I've been so long, Jenny, I couldn't lay my hands on the one I wanted. There it is. (Giving photograph.)

VIRGINIA. Oh! It's very good of him.

MRS. MUNNING. I think your mother will be glad to see it. .

VIRGINIA. Yes. (She isn't interested, and puts the photograph on the table.) I was just going upstairs to write. It will be quieter in my room.

MRS. MUNNING. Has Zack been talking to you?

ZACK. I did a bit.

MRS. MUNNING. Oh, then I'm not surprised you want some quiet for a change.

VIRGINIA. I thought I'd not be interrupted there. I won't be long. (Going.)

MRS. MUNNING. You're forgetting the photograph.

VIRGINIA. I'm sorry, aunt. I was thinking of the other things I had to say to mother. (She glances at Zack and goes out.)

MRS. MUNNING (reflectively, looking after her). I'd give something to know what she's saying about our Paul in that letter. (She turns.) Why isn't the table cleared? Couldn't you stir yourself to ring the bell for Sally?

ZACK. I didn't know I ought. A servant girl's a novelty to me.

MRS. MUNNING. You didn't let that out to Jenny?

ZACK. Let what out?

MRS. MUNNING. Why, that Sally isn't always here.

ZACK. I don't remember that we mentioned her at all. Aren't we to let that out?

MRS. MUNNING. Of course we're not, you moon-struck natural! What do you think she's here for?

ZACK. Well, I dunno. Unless she's here to do the work that Jenny makes.

MRS. MUNNING. Work I I'd do all Jenny makes with one hand tied behind me. Sally's here for show, but I'll watch she does some work as well. And I've a word to say to her about that model there. And you as well.

ZACK. Yes, mother.

MRS. MUNNING. I'll see her first. You can wait. Your time's worth nothing and I'm paying her for hers. Now don't you dare to stir from here till I come back.

ZACK. No, mother.

(Exit Mrs. Munning. Zack stands stock-still for a minute, then his eye catches the last piece of bread and butter. Tempted, he falls and gets it. Then tiptoes to a chair, takes one large bite out of the slice, gets sleepy, half raises the slice for another bite, lets his hand drop and settles as if to sleep. A knock at the door. Zack half-hearst but decides not to move. The knock repeated. This time he does not hear at all. Martha Wrigley opens the door, and puts a timid head round it. She enters shyly, half child, half woman of eighteent slovenly and down at heel. She carries a dress suit over her arm. She sees Zack and stops.)

MARTHA. Oh! Zack!

ZACK. Eh? (He rouses slowly, not as if from sleep, but from sloth.) Who's there?

MARTHA. It's Martha Wrigley. And if you please I knocked, and knocked, and nobody came and so——

ZACK (stirring lazily in his chair). Just when I had a moment for a bit of rest.

MARTHA. I'm sorry, Zack. I am sorry. Only I had to make somebody hear,

ZACK (noticing the bread in his hand, and finishing it). It needn't have been me. I can't tell you anything.

MARTHA (matter of fact, without malice). No. I know you're nobody here. But you can tell them that are somebody.

ZACK. Tell 'em what?

MARTHA. Oh, Zack, we're in such trouble at home.

ZACK (sitting up straight with ready sympathy). What's to do, Martha?

MARTHA. I don't know what Mrs. Munning will say. It's my father, Zack.

ZACK. What's he done?

MARTHA. He's fallen down and broke his arm and he won't be able to wait at the wedding to-morrow.

ZACK. Joe Wrigley's broke his arm! Well, there's carelessness for you.

MARTHA. Yes. Please, he knows it's careless of him and he'll lose the half-a-crown he gets from you for waiting, and we did need that half-crown so bad.

ZACK (rising). You'd better see my mother, Martha.

MARTHA. Couldn't you tell her, Zack. She'll be so mad.

ZACK (shaking head). It's not a job I'm pining for.

MARTHA. We've done our best. I've brought my father's suit for some one else to wear. And Zack—— (She puts the clothes on a chair.)

ZACK. Nay. This is getting too much for me. I'll fetch my mother.

MARTHA. Yes, but Zack——

ZACK. Well?

MARTHA. We did so hope that Mrs. Munning would see her way to paying father all the same.

ZACK. Paying him when he's not there!

MARTHA. He would be if he could. We do need his money that bad.

ZACK. You'll not get owt from mother. Nothing for nothing's her way of seeing things.

MARTHA. There's been so little lately with you having so few parties.

ZACK. You'll get none out of mother. That's a certain fact.

MARTHA (blubbering). And I was so looking forward to a bite of meat. We've not seen butcher's meat at our house not for a month and more.

ZACK (really hit where he's soft). My word, that's bad, Martha.

MARTHA. And me anÆmic too, and never can get food enough to satisfy me.

ZACK. Not food enough!

MARTHA. I'm always hungry, and this did look a chance of getting my teeth into a bit of meat at last.

ZACK. Well, I dunno. That's very bad. (He looks at coat behind door.)

MARTHA. You try it and you'd know.

ZACK. Look here, Martha. This'll get me into trouble, but I got a shilling to-day at Ballbrook Farm, and if it's any use to you well—dang it, mother can't kill me. Here it is—(He goes to coat, gets shilling, and brings it to her.)

(She takes it and expresses thanks, mostly by crying on his shoulder.)

MARTHA. Oh, Mr. Zack. You are the good one.

ZACK. There! There! There I There! There! Don't take on so.

MARTHA. Oh!

(She kisses him. Mrs. Munning enters.)

MRS. MUNNING (grimly sarcastic). Oh? When's the wedding, Zack?

ZACK (humouring her). Oh, I dunno. In about a month, eh, Martha?

MRS. MUNNING. You're fool enough for anything.

ZACK (seriously). I was only consoling her a bit.

MRS. MUNNING. If you want to console young women with your arm around their waists, my lad, you'll not be long for this house. You've enough bad habits now without beginning new ones.

ZACK. Martha was a bit upset, mother.

MRS. MUNNING. It 'ud be a bad case that called for you to set it right. What is it, Martha?

MARTHA. Father's broke his arm and he can't wait tomorrow, and I've brought his clothes, and, please Mrs. Munning, he's very sorry.

MRS. MUNNING. Sorry! Here! Paul! Paul! (Opens door.) Paul!

PAUL (off). Coming.

MRS. MUNNING. And you consoled her for a thing like that! Console! I'd use a stick and——

(Paul enters.)

PAUL. What is it, mother?

MRS. MUNNING. A nice upset, that's what it is. Joe Wrigley's gone and broke his arm when we wanted him tomorrow.

PAUL (savagely). The meddling fool! Disturbing our arrangements. How dare he break his arm?

MARTHA. Please, Mr. Paul, he didn't mean to. It was an accident.

PAUL. Accident! Didn't he know it was Mr. Abbott's wedding to-morrow?

MARTHA. Yes, sir.

PAUL. Then he shouldn't have an accident. You go and tell your father he's engaged by me to-morrow and if he doesn't come and do his job, he'll get no more work from us. You understand?

MARTHA. But father can't wait to-morrow with a broken arm.

PAUL. That's not my fault. I didn't break it. You tell him what I said.

MARTHA (turning, then). Then you won't be paying him his money, sir?

PAUL. What?

MRS. MUNNING. Paying him! I like your impudence

ZACK. You'd better go home, Martha.

MARTHA. Yes, Mr. Zack (Crying.) But I am so——

ZACK (his arm about her). There! There! (Leading her towards door.)

MRS. MUNNING. Keep your hands off the girl, Zack.

ZACK. I was only consoling her a bit. (He opens r. door.)

MRS. MUNNING. Then don't do it.

ZACK. No, mother.

(Exit Martha.)

MRS. MUNNING. This is' a pretty how do you do.

PAUL. Confound Joe Wrigley. I don't know where to get another man at such short notice.

MRS. MUNNING. And labour scarce, and all. Can you manage it with a man short?

(Zack shyly approaches the clothes on chair and, not lifting them, fingers them lovingly.)

PAUL. No, I can't.

MRS. MUNNING. You'll have to get somebody to-night, then. That's all.

PAUL. If I can. It's going to take some doing to find a steady man.

ZACK. Paul!

PAUL. What's the matter?

ZACK. Could I go?

PAUL. You!

ZACK. I'd dearly love to.

PAUL. You're no use.

ZACK. I know my hands are awkward, but I will try, Paul. I'll try so hard not to break anything.

MRS. MUNNING. He'd be better than nothing, Paul.

PAUL. I doubt it.

ZACK. Give me another chance.

PAUL. I gave you chance on chance. You're more trouble than you're worth.

ZACK. I'm not worth anything, and nobody knows it more than me. But couldn't I go this once, just to fill up? I'll be so careful, Paul.

MRS. MUNNING. It's saving a man's wages for the day.

PAUL. It's not a saving if he makes a mess of things. Our catering's got bad name enough without our making bad to worse. He's got no proper clothes.

ZACK. I'll wear Joe Wrigley's willing. (He goes to them.)

PAUL. Joe Wrigley's a big man.

ZACK. Can I try them, Paul? Do let me try them on.

PAUL. Well, you can try, and show us what sort of a lout you look.

ZACK. Oh, hurrah! (He jerks his coat off and fastens on the clothes.)

MRS. MUNNING. It's the best road out, Paul.

PAUL. A rotten best.

ZACK (putting on the dress coat. It is far too large for him). It will be splendid to be wearing black again.

PAUL. It's only for to-morrow, mind.

(Paul does not yet turn to look at Zack.)

MRS. MUNNING. Joe Wrigley's out of it six weeks or more. Paul. Joe Wrigley's finished himself with me. Zack can go to-morrow till I've time to look round.

ZACK. Suppose I'm not so bad to-morrow, Paul?

PAUL. Supposing pigs 'ull fly. Let's have a look at you. Good Lord! Hold the trousers to you and let us know the worst. Now, I ask you——

MRS. MUNNING. I can tack the bottoms up, Paul, and the rest is not so bad.

(Enter Virginia. She has a hat on and her letter in her hand.)

VIRGINIA. I've finished my—— Oh, Zack, you do look funny.

CURTAIN.