Jane.  I do like anyone what’s homely.

John. [Calling out heartily.] Do you listen to that, Jerry!  The ladies here do find you pleasant and homely, and I don’t know what else.

Jeremy.  The mugs want filling once more.

[He stolidly goes round the table refilling the mugs.  Rose’s gaze wanders about her.

Rose. [To Robert.] That’s not a bad looking figure of a man —

Robert.  Who?

Rose.  Well—­the new farm hand.

Robert.  A sulky looking brute.  I’d not let him wear his hat to table if I was master here.

Rose.  He puts me in mind of—­well—­there, I can’t recollect who ’tis. [A knock is heard at the door.

Rose. [Sharply to Isabel.] Go and see who ’tis, Lucy.

[Isabel opens the door, and Mary meadows stands on the threshold, a large nosegay of beautiful wild flowers in her hand.

John. [Rising up in great pleasure.] You’re late, Mary.  But you’re welcome as the—­as the very sunshine.

Rose.  Set another place, Lucy.

Mary.  Not for me, Rose.  I did not come here to eat or drink, but to bring you these few blossoms and my love.

Rose. [Rises from the table and takes the nosegay.] I’m sure you’re very kind, Mary—­Suppose we were all to move into the parlour now we have finished dinner, and then we could enjoy a bit of conversation.

Liz.  Very pleasant, I’m sure.

Jane.  I see no objection.

Kitty. [Running round to look at the flowers.] And Mary shall tell us how to make charms out of the flowers—­and the meanings of the blossoms and all the strange things she knows about them.

John. [Taking a flower from the bunch and putting it into his coat.] Yes, and how to brew tea as’ll curl up anyone’s tongue within the mouth for a year—­and fancy drinks for sheep with foot rot, and powders against the murrain and any other nonsense that you do please.

Mary.  Now, John, I’ll not have you damage my business like this.

Liz.  Maybe as the young person’s got sommat what’ll be handy with your complaint, sister.

Jane.  Or for when you be took with th’ air in your head so bad, Jane.

Rose.  Yes, I reckon that Mary has a charm for every ill beneath the sun.  Let’s go off to the parlour along of her.  You’re not coming with us, John, are you?

John.  I’d not miss the telling of these things for anything in the world, foolishness though they be.

Rose.  Come along then—­all of you.

[They all go out.  Jeremy holds the door open for them.  As she passes through it Liz says, looking at him.

Liz.  We shall hope for your company, too.