Lubin. [As though to himself.] I could not go.

Jeremy.  Some cattle want a lot of driving.

Isabel. [Timidly to Lubin.] If I go, could not you try and come along with me, master?

Lubin.  You’ll never have the heart to go through with it.

Jeremy.  ’Tis a fine fat heart as her has within of she.  Don’t you go and put fancies into the head of her.

Isabel. [To Lubin.] I’ll go if so be as you’ll come along of me too.

[Lubin bends his head and remains thinking deeply.

Jeremy.  ’Tis thirsty work this hiring of men and wenches—­I’ll get me a drop of cider down at the Red Bull.  Mayhap you’ll be ready time I’ve finished.

Mary.  I’ll see that you’re not kept waiting, Jeremy.

Jeremy. [Turning back after he has started.] What be they called,
Mary?

[Mary looks doubtfully towards Lubin and Isabel.

Isabel.  My name—­they calls me Isabel.

Jeremy. [Turning to Lubin.] And yourn?

Lubin. [In confusion.] I don’t rightly recollect.

Jeremy. [Impassively.] ’Tis of no account, us’ll call you William like the last one.

Isabel.  O, and couldn’t I be called like the last one too?

Jeremy.  Then us’ll call you Lucy.  And a rare bad slut her was, and doubtless you’ll not prove much worser.

[He goes away.

Mary.  This is your chance.  A good chance too —

Lubin.  They’ll know the both of us.  Love isn’t never quite so dead but what a sound in the speech or a movement of the hand will bring some breath to it again.

Isabel.  You’re right there, master—­sommat’ll stir in the hearts of them when they sees we—­and ’tis from the door as us’ll be chased for masking on them like this.

Mary.  But not before the seeds of love have done their work.  Come, Isabel; come, Lubin—­I will so dress you that you shall not be recognised.

[Mary goes indoors.  Isabel slowly rises and takes up her bundle.  Lubin remains seated, looking gloomily before him.

Isabel.  Come, think what ’twill feel to be along of our dear loves and look upon the forms of them and hear the notes of their voices once again.

Lubin.  That’s what I am a-thinking of.  ’Twill be hot iron drove right into the heart all the while.  Ah, that’s about it.

Isabel.  I’ll gladly bear the pain.

Lubin. [After a pause.] Then so will I. We’ll go.

[He raises his eyes to her face and then gets heavily up and follows her into the cottage.

Act II.—­Scene 1.

The living room at Daniel’s Mill.  In the window rose-Anna is seated awkwardly sewing some bright ribbons on to a muslin gown.  Kitty is moving about rapidly dusting chairs and ornaments which are in disorder about the room and John stands with his back to the grate gravely surveying them.