Act I - Page 2

mother
arrived?

VIVIE [quickly, evidently scenting aggression] Is she coming?

PRAED [surprised] Didn't you expect us?

VIVIE. No.

PRAED. Now, goodness me, I hope I've not mistaken the day. That would be
just like me, you know. Your mother arranged that she was to come down
from London and that I was to come over from Horsham to be introduced to
you.

VIVIE [not at all pleased] Did she? Hm! My mother has rather a trick of
taking me by surprise--to see how I behave myself while she's away, I
suppose. I fancy I shall take my mother very much by surprise one of
these days, if she makes arrangements that concern me without consulting
me beforehand. She hasnt come.

PRAED [embarrassed] I'm really very sorry.

VIVIE [throwing off her displeasure] It's not your fault, Mr Praed, is
it? And I'm very glad you've come. You are the only one of my mother's
friends I have ever asked her to bring to see me.

PRAED [relieved and delighted] Oh, now this is really very good of you,
Miss Warren!

VIVIE. Will you come indoors; or would you rather sit out here and talk?

PRAED. It will be nicer out here, don't you think?

VIVIE. Then I'll go and get you a chair. [She goes to the porch for a
garden chair].

PRAED [following her] Oh, pray, pray! Allow me. [He lays hands on the
chair].

VIVIE [letting him take it] Take care of your fingers; theyre rather
dodgy things, those chairs. [She goes across to the chair with the books
on it; pitches them into the hammock; and brings the chair forward with
one swing].

PRAED [who has just unfolded his chair] Oh, now do let me take that
hard chair. I like hard chairs.

VIVIE. So do I. Sit down, Mr Praed. [This invitation she gives with a
genial peremptoriness, his anxiety to please her clearly striking her as
a sign of weakness of character on his part. But he does not immediately
obey].

PRAED. By the way, though, hadnt we better go to the station to meet
your mother?

VIVIE [coolly] Why? She knows the way.

PRAED [disconcerted] Er--I suppose she does [he sits down].

VIVIE. Do you know, you are just like what I expected. I hope you are
disposed to be friends with me.

PRAED [again beaming] Thank you, my _dear_ Miss Warren; thank you. Dear
me! I'm so glad your mother hasnt spoilt you!

VIVIE. How?

PRAED. Well, in making you too conventional. You know, my dear Miss
Warren, I am a born anarchist. I hate authority. It spoils the relations
between parent and child; even between mother and daughter. Now I was
always afraid that your mother would strain her authority to make you
very conventional. It's such a relief to find that she hasnt.