[She hustles Ernest out through the wall, but his voice is heard
     faintly from the distance:  “I think it’s jolly thin.”]

Rose. [To Dick.] The Missis says you’re to take all your worms and things, Sir, and put them where they won’t be seen.

Dick. [Shortly.] Have n’t got any!

Rose.  The Missis says she’ll be very angry if you don’t put your worms away; and would you come and help kill earwigs in the blue——?

Dick.  Hang! [He goes, and rose is left alone.]

Rose. [Looking straight before her.] Please, Miss Joy, the Missis says will you go to her about your frock.

     [There is a little pause, then from the hollow tree joy’s voice
     is heard.]

Joy.  No-o!

Rose.  If you did n’t come, I was to tell you she was going to put you in the blue.

     [Joy looks out of the tree.]

     [Immovable, but smiling.]

Oh, Miss joy, you’ve done your hair up! [Joy retires into the tree.] Please, Miss, what shall I tell the Missis?

Joy. [Joy’s voice is heard.] Anything you like.

Rose. [Over her shoulder.] I shall be drove to tell her a story,
Miss.

Joy.  All right!  Tell it.

     [Rose goes away, and joy comes out.  She sits on the rustic seat
     and waits.  Dick, coming softly from the house, approaches her.]

Dick. [Looking at her intently.] Joy!  I wanted to say something

     [Joy does not look at him, but twists her fingers.]

I shan’t see you again you know after to-morrow till I come up for the ’Varsity match.

Joy. [Smiling.] But that’s next week.

Dick.  Must you go home to-morrow?

     [Joy nods three times.]

     [Coming closer.]

I shall miss you so awfully.  You don’t know how I——­

     [Joy shakes her head.]

Do look at me! [Joy steals a look.] Oh!  Joy!

     [Again joy shakes her head.]

Joy. [Suddenly.] Don’t!

Dick. [Seizing her hand.] Oh, Joy!  Can’t you——­

Joy. [Drawing the hand away.] Oh! don’t.

Dick. [Bending his head.] It’s—­it’s—­so——­

Joy. [Quietly.] Don’t, Dick!

Dick.  But I can’t help it!  It’s too much for me, Joy, I must tell you——­

     [Mrs. Gwyn is seen approaching towards the house.]

Joy. [Spinning round.] It’s Mother—­oh, Mother!
[She rushes at her.]

     [Mrs. Gwyn is a handsome creature of thirty-six, dressed in a
     muslin frock.  She twists her daughter round, and kisses her.]

Mrs. Gwyn.  How sweet you look with your hair up, Joy!  Who ’s this? [Glancing with a smile at Dick.]