(EMMA stays by right of table.)

ALLEYNE.  How is it with you, Mrs. Ormerod?

SARAH.  It might be worse.  A’ve lost th’ use o’ my ’ands, and they’re takin’ me to workus, but A’m not dead yet, and that’s summat to be thankul for.

ALLEYNE.  Oh, yes, yes, Mrs. Ormerod.  The—­er—­message I am to deliver is, I fear, not quite what Mr. Blundell led you to hope for.  His efforts on your behalf have—­er—–­ unfortunately failed.  He finds himself obliged to give up all hope of aiding you to a livelihood.  In fact—­er—­I understand that the arrangements made for your removal to the workhouse this afternoon must be carried out.  It seems there is no alternative.  I am grieved to be the bearer of bad tidings, but I am sure you will find a comfortable home awaiting you, Mrs.—­er—­Ormerod.

SARAH.  ‘Appen A shall an’ ‘appen A shan’t.  Theer’s no tellin’ ’ow you’ll favor a thing till you’ve tried it.

ALLEYNE.  You must resign yourself to the will of Providence.  The consolations of religion are always with us.  Shall I pray with you?

SARAH.  A never were much at prayin’ when A were well off, an’ A doubt the Lord ud tak’ it kind o’ selfish o’ me if A coom cryin’ to ’im now A’m ’urt.

ALLEYNE.  He will understand.  Can I do nothing for you?

SARAH.  A dunno as tha can, thankin’ thee all same.

ALLEYNE.  I am privileged with Mr. Blundell’s permission to bring a little gift to you, Mrs. Ormerod. (Feeling in his coattails and bringing out a Testament.) Allow me to present you with this Testament, and may it help you to bear your Cross with resignation. (He hands her the Testament. SARAH does not raise her hands, and it drops on her lap. ALLEYNE takes it again and puts it on the table.) Ah, yes, of course—­your poor hands—­I understand.

SARAH.  Thankee kindly.  Readin’ don’t coom easy to me, an’ my eyes aren’t what they were, but A’ll mak’ most of it.

ALLEYNE.  You will never read that in vain.  And now, dear sister, I must go.  I will pray for strength for you.  All will be well.  Good day.

SARAH.  Good day to thee.

(Exit ALLEYNE.)

EMMA.  Tha doesn’t look so pleased wi’ tha gift, Mrs. Ormerod.

SARAH.  It’s not square thing of th’ ould Parson, Emma.  ’E should ‘a’ coom an’ tould me ’isself.  Looks like ’e were feart to do it.  A never could abide them curate lads.  We doan’t want no grand Lunnon gentlemen down ’ere.  ’E doan’t understand us no more than we understand ’im.  ’E means all reeght, poor lad.  Sithee, Emma, A’ve bin a church-goin’ woman all my days.  A was browt oop to church, an’ many’s th’ bit o’ brass they’ve ‘ad out o’ me in my time.  An’ in th’ end they send me a fine curate with a tuppenny Testament.  That’s all th’ good yo’ get out o’ they folks.

EMMA.  We’m chapel to our ‘ouse, an’ ’e didn’t forget to let me see ‘e knaw’d it, but A doan’t say as it’s ony different wi’ chapels, neither.  They get what they can outer yo’, but yo’ mustn’t look for nothin’ back, when th’ pinch cooms. (Clock outside strikes three.) Sakes alive, theer’s clock goin’ three.  My dinner ‘ull be nice an’ cold.