Mrs. Warren’s Profession

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 an awful jolly time of it before lunch. First let’s 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 show its points. 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. It’ll do George good: I’ll lay he doesn’t trouble church much. 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. She’s not like my mother: the same treatment wouldn’t do for both cases. 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: there’s 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 you’ll ever know her. Vivie You are wrong: you know nothing about her. If you knew the circumstances against which my mother had to struggle⁠— Frank Adroitly finishing the sentence for her. I should know why she is what she is, shouldn’t I? What difference would that make? Circumstances or no circumstances, Viv, you won’t be able to stand your mother. Vivie Very angry. Why not? Frank Because she’s an old wretch, Viv. If you ever put your arm around her waist in my presence again, I’ll shoot myself there and then as a protest against an exhibition which revolts me. Vivie Must I choose between dropping your acquaintance and dropping my mother’s? Frank Gracefully. That would put the old lady at ever such a disadvantage. No, Viv: your infatuated little boy will have to stick to you in any case. But he’s all the more anxious that you shouldn’t make mistakes. It’s no use, Viv: your mother’s impossible. She may be a good sort; but she’s a bad lot, a very bad lot. Vivie Hotly. Frank⁠—! He stands his ground. She turns away and sits down on the bench under the yew tree, struggling to recover her self-command. Then she says: Is she to be deserted by the world because she’s what you call a bad lot? Has she no right to live? Frank No fear of that, Viv: she won’t ever be deserted. He sits on the bench beside her. Vivie But I am to desert her, I suppose. Frank Babyishly, lulling her and making love to her with his voice. Mustn’t go live with her. Little family group of mother and daughter wouldn’t be a success. Spoil our little group. Vivie Falling under the spell. What little group? Frank The babes in the wood: Vivie and little Frank. He nestles against her like a weary child. Lets go and get covered up with leaves. Vivie Rhythmically, rocking him like a nurse. Fast asleep, hand in hand, under the trees. Frank The wise little girl with her silly little boy. Vivie The dear little boy with his dowdy little girl. Frank Ever so peaceful, and relieved from the imbecility of the little boy’s father and the questionableness of the little girl’s⁠— Vivie Smothering the word against her breast. Sh‑sh‑sh‑sh! little girl wants to forget all about her mother. They are silent for some moments, rocking one another. Then Vivie wakes up with a shock, exclaiming: What a pair of fools we are! Come: sit up. Gracious! your hair. She smooths it. I wonder do all grown up people play in that childish way when nobody is looking. I never did it when I was a child. Frank Neither did I. You are my first playmate. He catches her hand to kiss it, but checks himself to look round first. Very unexpectedly he sees Crofts emerging from the box hedge. Oh, damn! Vivie Why damn, dear? Frank Whispering. Sh! Here’s this brute Crofts. He sits farther away from her with an unconcerned air. Vivie Don’t be rude to him, Frank. I particularly wish to be polite to him. It will please my mother. Frank makes a wry face. Crofts Could I have a few words with you, Miss Vivie? Vivie Certainly. Crofts To Frank. You’ll excuse me, Gardner. They’re waiting for you in the church, if you don’t mind. Frank Rising. Anything to oblige you, Crofts⁠—except church. If you want anything, Vivie, ring the gate bell, and a domestic will appear. He goes into the house with unruffled suavity. Crofts Watching him with a crafty