Jack. It's different. Where is she now? Elsie (_indicating_). She went in there to wash some pots. Jack (_nodding, anxiously_). She does too much of that. The work comes heavy at her age. Elsie. We'll change all that. Jack (_eagerly_). Yes. Four hands _'_ull make it easy. Elsie. My methods will be very different. Jack. Different? She'll not like changing her ways. Old people don't like change. Elsie (_callously_). No, but it's good for them. Jack. My getting married _'_ull be change enough. We must be careful not to upset her. Elsie. You're very fond of your mother, Jack. Jack. I try to do my duty. Elsie (_gladly_). It's only duty, then? Jack. Only! Honour thy father and thy mother that-- Elsie. Yes, but I don't want to make old bones. And that honouring business is a bit fly-blown. We spell it humour your parents nowadays and not too much of that. A badly brought up parent's worse than a spoilt child. Jack. Of course, you're joking, Elsie, and I know I'm not a judge of taste, but I don't somehow think we ought to make fun of our parents. Elsie. I wasn't joking, Jack. If your mother's going to stay with us, she'll have to realize the century she's living in. Jack (_reprovingly_). My mother's mistress of this house, Elsie. Elsie. This house. Yes. But we're going to be happy in a cottage on the moors by Birchester, and if people who've forgotten what it is to be young try any interference, so much the worse for them. Jack (_angrily_). Did you tell her that before you asked about the marrying? Elsie. Tell her what? Jack. That you expected her to take a back seat and watch you interfering with her arrangements? Elsie. Interfering's not the word. They'll be revolutionized. Our cottage will be run on rational and hygienic principles. Jack. I'd rather have it comfortable. Elsie. It will be comfortable. Jack. With you and her squabbling all the time? Elsie (_very discouraged, but still brave_). We shan't squabble if she'll be sensible. Jack. Her idea of sense mayn't be the same as yours. Elsie. It probably won't. It's all right, Jack. I've had practice in handling parents. Jack. I've seen a bit of it, too. You shan't treat mother that way. If we're to marry, Elsie-- Elsie. _If_ we're to marry! Jack. My mother's first with me. I take my orders from her and you'll just have to do the same. (_Enter Mrs. Metherell. She has an apron on which she wipes her hands and then takes it off, hanging up behind door._) Mrs. Metherell. So you've broken your arm, I hear. Jack (_his attitude is that of a weak-willed child. He almost cowers before her_). Yes, mother. Mrs. Metherell. Wasn't there work enough with a flitting without fetching and carrying for you? Who's going to break the coals now? Elsie. Mrs. Metherell! Jack. It's all right, Elsie. It's just her way.