MARGARET. Well, Viola, you haven't told us how you like being Miss Wurzel-Flummery.
VIOLA. I haven't realized myself yet, mummy. I shall have to stand in front of my glass and tell myself who I am.
RICHARD. It's all right for you. You know you'll change your name one day, and then it won't matter what you've been called before.
VIOLA (secretly). H'sh! (She smiles lovingly at him, and then says aloud) Oh, won't it? It's got to appear in the papers, "A marriage has been arranged between Miss Viola Wurzel-Flummery..." and everybody will say, "And about time too, poor girl."
MARGARET (to CRAWSHAW). Have you found it, dear?
CRAWSHAW (resentfully). This is the 1912 edition.
MARGARET. Still, dear, if it's a very old family, it ought to be in by then.
VIOLA. I don't mind how old it is; I think it's lovely. Oh, Dick, what fun it will be being announced! Just think of the footman throwing open the door and saying—
MAID (announcing). Mr. Denis Clifton.
(There is a little natural confusion as CLIFTON enters jauntily in his summer suiting with a bundle of papers under his arm. CRAWSHAW goes towards him and shakes hands.)