EMMA.  Oh, thee tak’ it, Mrs. Ormerod.

SARAH.  A’d dearly love to.  Tha sees A’m noan in debt, nobbut what chairs an table ‘ull payfor, and A doan’t like thowt o’ leaving owt as A’m greatly fond of.

EMMA.  Yo doan’t, Mrs. Ormerod.  Thee tak’ it.  Wheer is it?  A’ll put un in.  Theer’s lots o’room on top.  A’ll see un’s noan crushed.

SARAH.  It’s hanging theer behind door. (EMMA crosses back to door, gets clothes.) A got un out to show Parson.  A thowt A’d ask un if it were proper to tak’ it if A’ve to go.  My best bonnet’s with it, an’ all.

(EMMA goes below table, takes the frock and bonnet, folds it on the table, and packs it.)

EMMA.  A’ll put un in.

SARAH.  A’m being a lot o’ trouble to thee, lass.

EMMA.  That’s nowt; neighbors mun be neighborly.

(Gets bonnet from table and packs it.)

SARAH (after a pause, looking round).  Place doan’t look much, an’ that’s a fact.  Th’ furniture’s bin goin’ bit by bit, and theer ain’t much left to part wi’ now.

EMMA.  Never mind; it ’ull be all reeght now Parson’s takken thee oop.

SARAH.  A’m hopin’ so.  A am hopin’ so.  A never could abide th’ thowt o’ th’ workus—­me as ’as bin an ‘ard-workin’ woman.  A couldn’t fancy sleepin’ in a strange bed wi’ strange folk round me, an’ when th’ Matron said, “Do that,” A’d ‘ave to do it, an’ when she said, “Go theer,” A’d ‘ave to a’ gone wheer she tould me—­me as ’as allays ’eld my yead ‘igh an’ gone the way A pleased masel’.  Eh, it’s a terrible thowt, the workus.

EMMA (rising).  Now tha’s sure that’s all?

SARAH (after a pause, considers).  Eh, if A havna forgot my neeghtcaps. (Rises, moves centre and stops.) A suppose they’ll let me wear un in yonder.  A doan’t reeghtly think as A’d get my rest proper wi’out my neeghtcaps.

EMMA.  Oh, they’ll let thee wear un all reeght.

SARAH (as she goes).  A’ll go an’ get un. (Exit right, returning presently with the white nightcaps.) That’s all now.

(Gives them to EMMA who meets her at centre.)

EMMA (putting them in).  Yo’ never ‘ad no childer, did yo’, Mrs.
Ormerod?

SARAH.  No, Emma, no—­maybe that’s as broad as’s long. (Sits above fire.) Yo’ never knaw ’ow they go.  Soom on ’em turn again yo’ when they’re growed, or they get wed themselves an’ forget all as yo’ ’ve done for ’em, like a many A could name, and they’re allays a worrit to yo’ when they’re young.

EMMA.  A’m gettin’ wed masel’ soon, Mrs. Ormerod.

SARAH.  Are yo’, now, Emma?  Well, tha art not one o’ them graceless good-for-nowts.  Tha’ll never forget thy moother, A knaw, nor what she’s done for thee.  Who’s tha keepin’ coompany with?

EMMA.  It’s Joe Hindle as goes wi’ me, Mrs. Ormerod.

SARAH.  ’Indle, ’Indle?  What, not son to Robert ’Indle, ’im as used to be overlooker in th’ factory till ’e went to foreign parts to learn them Roossians ’ow to weave?