Isabel.  But I wouldn’t go with you—­No, not for all the gold in the world.

Robert.  Ah, you’ve changed since yesterday.  When I caught your eye at dinner, ’twas gentle as a dove’s—­and your hand, when it gave me my mug of cider did seem—­well did seem to put a caress upon me like.

Isabel.  O there lies a world of time twixt yesterday and to-day, Master Robert.

Robert.  So it do seem.  For to-day ’tis all thorns and thistles with you—­But I’m a-goin’ to have my look at your pretty face and my kiss of it too.

Isabel.  I shall scream out loud if you touches me—­that I shall.

Robert. [Pulling her to him.] Us’ll see about that.

[He tries to get a sight of her face, but she twists and turns.  Finally he seizes both her hands and covers them with kisses as Kitty enters.

Kitty.  O whatever’s going on!  Rose, Rose, John—­come you in here quickly, do. [To Lucy.] O you bad, wicked girl.  I knew you couldn’t be a very nice servant brought in off the road by Jeremy.

[Isabel, released by Robert, goes over to the window arranging her disordered sun-bonnet and trying to hide her tears.  Robert watches her sullenly.

Kitty. [Goes to the staircase door and calls loudly.] Rose, Rose—­ come you down as quick as you can run.

Rose. [Coming down.] What’s all this, I’d like to know?

Kitty.  It’s Lucy, behaving dreadful—­O you must send her straight away from the house, Rose.

Rose.  What has she done, then?

Kitty.  Going on with Robert.  Flirting, Rose, and kissing.

Isabel.  O no, mistress, twasn’t so, I do swear to you.

Robert. [Brutally.] Yes ’twas.  The maid so put me powerful in mind of someone who—­who —

Rose. [Coldly.] I understand you, Robert.  Well, ’tis lucky that all this didn’t come off an hour or so later.

Kitty. [Tearfully.] O Rose, what do you mean?

Rose.  I mean that what’s not broken don’t need no mending.  Robert can go to church with someone else to-day, he can.  And no harm done.

[She takes up the bunch of orange flowers and begins pulling it to pieces and throwing it all about the room.

Kitty.  O Rose, Rose, don’t take it so hard.  ’Twasn’t Robert’s fault.  ’Twas the girl off the road what led him on.  I know it.  Tell her to get out of the house.  I’ll dress you—­I’ll do the work.  Only be just and sensible again; dear Rose.

Rose.  Let the girl bide.  It makes no difference to me.  There’ll be no marrying for me to-day.

[John comes in at the door.

Kitty. [Running to him.] O John, John—­do you quiet down Rose and tell her to get upstairs and dress.  She’s a-saying that she won’t marry Robert because of his goings on with the new servant—­But, O, you’ll talk her into reason again, won’t you, dear John?