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?