PAUL. Oh? Isn't she ill, or was her mother lying?
MRS. MUNNING. She's been ill and she's getting better now.
PAUL. That's worse. She'll eat us out of house and home Convalescents always eat like elephants.
MRS. MUNNING. I wish you'd think ahead.
PAUL. I do. To the grocer's bills she'll make.
MRS. MUNNING. Well, you think to something a bit more pleasant that'll bring a smile to your face. You've a sour look on you sometimes.
PAUL. Enough to make me sour, too.
MRS. MUNNING. I've told you why she's here. It's not because I love her, nor her mother neither, but there's money at that end of the family and I'm a believer in keeping on the sweet side of rich relations and giving Providence a friendly lead.
PAUL. I can look pleasant all right when I'm being photographed with a wedding-group, but looking pleasant for a month on end! It'll take some doing, I give you my word.
(Virginia enters in a light spring frock. Paul rises.)