MRS. BROOME. Good-bye, sir. A cheerful young man. Now, my dear, perhaps you'll explain. MARY. I'm not going to explain much, mother. MRS. BROOME. Then explain a little. MARY. I told you most of what I'm going to tell you. MRS. BROOME. Let's have the other bit. BROOME. What I want to know is--Are you married? MARY. Yes, I am. BROOME. Prove it. MARY. My word's good enough. MRS. BROOME. Have you gone to Canada? MARY. That's different. MRS. BROOME. One lie's very like another. MARY. There's my ring. [_Showing it._] MRS. BROOME. Anyone can get a ring. Have you got your marriage lines? BROOME. Ay, let's see the marriage lines. MARY. I think you ought to take my word. MRS. BROOME. Let's see them. MARY. I wouldn't but that I told you that lie about Canada. It's the first I've ever told you, mother. MRS. BROOME. That's what frightens me. BROOME. Where are they? MARY. They're in my purse. [_She goes to drawer and brings out the purse._] There's nothing else in it. MRS. BROOME. They're better than money. MARY. Here then. [_She gives them the paper which they scrutinise together._] MRS. BROOME. That's all right, John? BROOME. Ay, that seems all right. [_MRS. BROOME takes the paper from him and gives it to MARY._] MRS. BROOME. Put it away. BROOME. Here, let's have another look at it. MRS. BROOME. Put it away. She's shown it us all right. BROOME. When was that baby born? MRS. BROOME. Never mind that. BROOME. How old is it? MRS. BROOME. What do you call him, Mary? MARY. Leonard, like his father. MRS. BROOME. Is his father kind to you? MARY. Yes. BROOME. Of course she'd say that. I'll have a talk with that young man. I never thought a daughter of mine-- MRS. BROOME. Now shut up. BROOME. Oh! yes. Take his part. Never mind me. Never mind my feelings. Do you mean to say this young toff's got no money, really? MARY. He's been brought up not to work and his father won't give him any now. BROOME. Ah! I see--I see. Vexed about this was he? And the young chap did the right thing. Well--a good-hearted lad, I see. MARY. I won't talk about it. I've been miserable not to come to see you, mother, but I couldn't at first, and time went on and I didn't like to. And I didn't know what to do. MRS. BROOME. Never mind that now. [_A ring at the doorbell is heard._] MARY. That can't be the doctor yet. MRS. BROOME. You don't have a many visitors, I s'pose. MARY. I don't have any--except sometimes Mrs. Timbrell. MRS. BROOME. P'raps it's her. MARY. I'd like you to see her. MRS. BROOME. Someone's coming up. MARY. I think it must be. MRS. TIMBRELL. [_Outside._] I know the way, thank you. [_She enters carrying a little bunch of flowers._] MARY. Here's my mother and father. MRS. TIMBRELL. Oh! how d'ye do. [_She shakes hands._] I don't know why we've never met before. BROOME. We've never been here before. MRS. TIMBRELL. Haven't you? I've not been many times. We must come oftener. [_She smiles embarrassments away._]