Andrew.  I’ve carried the thought of it in my heart all this time,
Millie.

Millie.  I never asked you to, Andrew.

Andrew.  I’ve brought you a nosegay of flowers, Mill.  They be rare blossoms with grand names what I can’t recollect to all of them.

[Millie takes the nosegay, looks at it for an instant, and then lets it fall.

Millie.  I have no liking for flowers this day, Andrew.

Andrew.  O Millie, and is it so as you and me are going to our marriage?

Millie.  Yes, Andrew.  ’Tis so.  I never said it could be different.  I have no heart to give you.  My love was given long ago to another.  And that other has forgotten me by now.

Andrew.  O Millie, you shall forget him too when once you are wed to me, I promise you.

Millie.  ’Tis beyond the power of you or any man to make me do that, Andrew.

Andrew.  Millie, what’s the good of we two going on to church one with t’other?

Millie.  There’s no good at all, Andrew.

Andrew.  Millie, I could have sworn that you had begun to care sommat more than ordinary for me that last time we were together.

Millie.  Then you could have sworn wrong.  I care nothing for you, Andrew, no, nothing.  But I gave my word I’d go to church with you and be wed.  And—­I’ll not break my word, I’ll not.

Andrew.  And is this all that you can say to me to-day, Mill?

Millie.  Yes, Andrew, ’tis all.  And now, ’tis very late, and I have got to dress myself.

Elizabeth. [Calling loudly from above.] Millie, what are you stopping for?  Come you up here and get your gown on, do.

[Millie looks haughtily at Andrew as she passes him.  She goes slowly out of the room.

[Andrew picks up the flowers and stands holding them, looking disconsolately down upon them.  May comes in, furtively.

May.  All alone, Andrew?  Has Millie gone to put her fine gown on?

Andrew.  Yes, Millie’s gone to dress herself.

May.  O that’s a beautiful nosegay, Andrew.  Was it brought for Mill?

Andrew.  Yes, May, but she won’t have it.

May.  Millie don’t like you very much, Andrew, do she?

Andrew.  Millie’s got quite changed towards me since last time.

May.  And when was that, Andrew?

Andrew.  Why, last time was the evening of the Fair, May.

May.  When I was hid in the cupboard yonder, Andrew?

Andrew.  So you were, May.  Well, can’t you recollect how ’twas that she spoke to me then?

May.  O yes, Andrew, and that I can.  ’Twas a quist a-cooing in the tree one time—­and then—­she did recollect herself and did sharpen up her tongue and ’twas another sort of bird what could drive its beak into the flesh of anyone—­so ’twas.