(_Edmund opens door. Elsie is going through._) That'll not do. You won't have a man about the place to wait on you. Close that door, Mr. Whitworth, and let me see her get out by herself. (_Edmund closes it, and comes away. Elsie tries to open it, the tray is troublesome and the pots slip together on it. Mrs. Metherell rises and crosses rapidly._) Those are my cups, you know. Here, give it to me. (_Takes tray and exit, opening door with the ease of familiarity._) Elsie. I'm sorry, Mrs. Metherell. But I can learn. Mrs. Metherell (_off_). Maybe. You've shown willing. (_She closes door from outside._) Edmund. Come away, Elsie. You've seen enough of the Metherell standard to show you it will never do. Elsie (_her confidence a little shaken, but still fighting_). I shall alter the standard. Edmund. It's fixed. You can't alter it. It's impossible. Elsie. The modern eye is blind to impossibilities. Have you ever been to an Ideal Home Exhibition? Edmund. A what? Elsie. They show you little houses fitted up with the cutest dodges for saving labour. I know Mrs. Metherell will have to make her home with us, but it'll be a very different home from this. You can credit me with some imagination. Edmund. I do, if you think Mrs. Metherell will ever believe her house is clean unless she or some one else has drudged in it all day. Seeing's believing, and you can't see the dust fly in a vacuum cleaner. Elsie. She'll have to use her common sense. Edmund. The scrubbing brush survives in spite of common sense. (_Enter Jack, dressed as Act I., left arm in splint. He opens and enters without knocking, but he hasn't time to get his cap off before Elsie is with him._) Elsie. You're safe. Jack. And sound, too, but for this. (_Glancing at his arm._) Elsie (_hysterically_). Thank God. Edmund. Is the match over? Jack. Three--two for Birchester. Edmund (_distressed_). Birchester have won! Jack. I won the match for Birchester, if it gives you any satisfaction to know it. I haven't been a man. I've been a miracle. Elsie. You always were. Jack. I've only done my human best before to-day. To-day I've been a superman, a thing inspired, protected guarded by a greater mastery than I have ever known. It wasn't football as it is in life. It's been the football of my dreams. Edmund. It makes you talk. Jack. I'm still intoxicated with the glamour of that game. Edmund. Yes, Metherell, success is sweet. But somebody is suffering for this. Elsie. Who? Edmund. If Birchester have won, Blackton have lost. Elsie. For an outsider, you take it seriously. Edmund. I take it seriously for your father. I ought to be with him now. Elsie. Haven't you done enough here for the proprieties? Edmund. I must go to your father, Elsie. Come. Elsie. I stay here with Jack. Edmund (_after a struggle_). Very well. (_Exit Edmund._) Jack (_taking cap off_). Elsie, what are you doing here? Elsie. I came to--to see your mother. Jack. You've told her about us? Elsie. Yes.