Jessie.  Shall I give you a kiss, Aunt?

Emily.  I’d be careful if I was you, Jess.  Fine ladies be brittle as fine china.

Jessie.  O I’ll kiss her very lightly, Mother.

[She goes up to Joan and kisses her.  Robin then reaches up his face and Joan kisses him.

Robin. [Rubbing his mouth.] The flour do come from Aunt same as it does from a new loaf.

Miles. [To Joan.] You must pardon these ignorant little country brats, Miss Clara.

Joan.  O there’s nothing amiss, thank you.

Emily.  Amiss, who said as there was?  When folks what can afford to lodge at the inn do come down and fasten theirselves on the top of poor people, they must take things as they do find them and not start grumbling at the first set off.

Luke.  There, there, Missis Spring.  There wasn’t naught said about grumbling.  But Miss Clara have come a smartish long distance, and it behoves us all as she should find summat of a welcome at the end of her journey, like.

Miles. [Aside to Joan.] How strange this country tongue must fall on your ears, Miss Clara!

Joan.  I don’t understand about half of what they say.

Emily. [Overhearing her.] O, you don’t, don’t you.  Well, Clara, I was always one for plain words, and I say ’tis a pity when folks do get above the position to which they was bred, and for all the fine satins and plumes upon you, the body what’s covered by them belongs to Clara Spring, what’s sister to Thomas.  And all the world knows what Thomas is—­A poor, mean spirited, humble born man with but two coats to the back of him, and with not a thought to the mind of him which is not foolishness.  And I judge from by what they be in birth, and not by the bags of gold what have been left them by any old madams in their dotage.  So now you see how I takes it all and you and me can start fair, like.

Joan. [To Luke.] O Mister—­Mister Jenner, I feel so faint.

Miles. [Taking her fan.] Allow me. [He begins to fan her.] I assure you she means nothing by it.  It’s her way.  You see, she knows no better.

Luke.  I’d fetch out summat for her to eat if I was you, missis.  ’Tis famished as the poor young maid must be.

Emily.  She should have come when ’twas meal time then.  I don’t hold with bites nor drinks in between whiles.

Joan.  O I’m dying for a glass of milk—­or water would do as well.

Miles.  My dear young lady—­anything to oblige. [Turning to Jessie.] Come, my little maid, see if you can’t make yourself useful in bringing a tray of refreshment for your auntie.  And you [turning to Robin] trot off and help sister.

Emily.  Not if I know it.  Stop where you are, Jess.  Robin, you dare to move.  If Clara wants to eat and drink I’m afeared she must wait till supper time.