Annet. [Drying her eyes.] ’Twas—­’twas the scent out of one of the flowers as got to my eyes, Uncle.

Daniel.  Well, that’s a likely tale it is.  Hear that, Mother?  ’Tis with her eyes that this little wench do snuff at a flower.  That’s good, bain’t it?

Elizabeth.  I haven’t patience with the wenches now-a-days.  Lay down that nosegay at once, Annet, and call your cousin from her room.  I warrant she has finished tricking of herself up by now.

Daniel.  Ah, I warrant as her’ll need a smartish bit of time for to take the creases out of the face of she.

[Andrew and may come in.]

Daniel.  Well, Andrew, my lad, ’tis about time as we was on the way to church I reckon.

Andrew.  I count as ’tis full early yet, master.

[He takes up the nosegay from the table and crosses the room to the window where Annet is standing, and trying to control her tears.

Andrew.  Annet, Millie will have none of my blossoms.  I should like it well if you would carry them in your hand to church this day.

Annet. [Looking wonderingly at him.] Me, Andrew?

Andrew.  Yes, you, Annet.  For, look you, they become you well.  They have sommat of the sweetness of you in them.  And the touch of them is soft and gentle.  And—­I would like you to keep them in your hands this day, Annet.

Annet.  O Andrew, I never was given anything like this before.

Andrew. [Slowly.] I should like to give you a great deal more, Annet—­only I cannot.  And ’tis got too late.

Elizabeth.  Too late—­I should think it was.  What’s come to the maid!  In my time girls didn’t use to spend a quarter of the while afore the glass as they do now.  Suppose you was to holler for her again, Father.

Daniel.  Anything to please you, Mother —

May.  I hear her coming, Uncle.  I hear the noise of the silk.

[Millie comes slowly into the room in her wedding clothes.  She holds herself very upright and looks from one to another quietly and coldly.

May.  Andrew’s gived your nosegay to Annet, Millie.

Millie.  ’Twould have been a pity to have wasted the fresh blossoms.

May.  But they were gathered for you, Mill.

Millie.  Annet seems to like them better than I did.

Daniel.  Well, my wench—­you be tricked out as though you was off to the horse show.  Mother, there bain’t no one as can beat our wench in looks anywhere this side of the country.

Elizabeth.  She’s right enough in the clothing of her, but ’twould be better if her looks did match the garments more.  Come, Millie, can’t you appear pleasanter like on your wedding day?

Millie.  I’m very thirsty, Mother.  Could I have a drink of water before we set out?