Edmund. Well, I know if I'd addressed my father like that---- Florence. It's a long time since you had a father to address, Uncle Edmund. We bring our fathers up differently to-day. Edmund. If you only knew what your father---- Austin (_taking his arm_). It doesn't matter, Edmund. Come to lunch. (_Exeunt Edmund and Austin._) Florence. Yes, it doesn't matter if the Rovers are defeated, but there's beef and beer in the next room and the heavens would fall if food were neglected. Elsie. Oh, I don't care if they are beaten. The Rovers don't interest me without Metherell. Florence. I don't believe they ever did. You're no true sportswoman, Elsie. You always thought more about the man than the game. You might be in love with Metherell. Elsie. Yes, I might. Florence. Perhaps you are. Elsie. Is there a woman in Blackton who doesn't admire him? Florence. Oh, I admire him. But that's not loving. Elsie. No. That isn't loving. Florence. You sound jolly serious about it. Elsie. Do you realize that now he's transferred he'll have to live in Birchester--two hundred miles away? Florence. Yes, I suppose so. Elsie. What are our chances of seeing him? Florence. Once a year or so when Birchester play here, instead of about every alternate Saturday. Elsie. I've been seeing him oftener than that. Florence. Do you mean you've been meeting him? Elsie (_breaking down on Flo's shoulder, to her great embarrassment_). Flo, I do love him and I don't care who knows it, and now he'll have to leave Blackton, and I---- Florence. Steady, old girl. I'm a bit out of my depth myself, but I'll do my best for you with father. Elsie (_braced up_). Father wouldn't stop me. Florence. He might try. Jack isn't quite our class, in a general way of speaking, is he? Elsie. Class! What is our class? We're nobodies. Florence. Still, as things go in Blackton we're rather upper crust, wouldn't you say? Elsie. Grandfather began life as a mechanic's labourer. Florence. Did he? I've never worried about our pedigree, but you wouldn't think it to look at him. (_Looking at his portrait._) Elsie. Oh, he made money. One of the good old grinding, saving sort. But he began a good deal lower down than Jack. Jack's father was an undertaker. Florence. An undertaker! Elsie (_hotly_). Well, I suppose undertakers can have children like other people. Florence. Oh, I've no objections Elsie. I've no objections either. Florence. I daresay not--to the father. He's dead. But the mother isn't. Elsie. What's the matter with his mother? Florence. Haven't you seen her? Elsie. Jack's shirked introducing me, if you want to know. Florence. Well, I _have_ seen her, and---- Elsie. Well? Florence. She's a hard nut to crack. Elsie. I'll crack her if she needs it. If I want to marry a man, I marry him. I don't mind telling parents about it, but I don't ask their permission. That sort of thing went out about the time motor cars came in.