Clara.  Yes, that you had.  We will go upstairs together and I will help you change into another gown.  Come quickly so that we may have plenty of time.

[They go towards the staircase door, Clara leading the way.  With her hand on the latch of the door she gives one look round the kitchen.  Then with a sudden movement she goes up to the wooden armchair at the hearth and bends her head till her lips touch it, she then runs upstairs, followed by Joan.

Act II.—­Scene 2.

After a few moments miles Hooper and Luke Jenner come into the kitchen.  They both look round the room enquiringly.

Luke.  Ah, she be still up above with that there serving wench what’s come.

Miles.  My good man, you didn’t expect our fair miss to have finished her toilet under an hour, did you?

Luke.  I don’t see what there was to begin on myself, let alone finish.

Miles.  ’Tis clear you know little of the ways of our town beauties, Luke.

Luke.  Still, I mean to have my try with her, Miles Hooper.

Miles. [Sarcastically.] I’m quite agreeable, Mister Jenner.

[Thomas and George come in.  George carries a bucket of water.

Thomas.  Where’s the little maid got to?  George and me be come up from the field on purpose for to bid her welcome home.

Miles.  Miss is still at her toilet, farmer.

[Joan, in a flowered silk gown, comes slowly and carefully into the room, followed by Clara, who carries a lace shawl over one arm.  She has put on a large white apron, but wears nothing on her head but the narrow blue ribbon.  During the following scene she stands quietly, half hidden by the door.

[Joan looks nervously round the room, then she draws herself up very haughtily.  Miles comes forward and bows low.

Thomas. [Looking Joan up and down.] Well, bless my soul, who’d have guessed at the change it do make in a wench?

Joan. [Holding out her hand, very coldly.] A good afternoon to you, sir.

Thomas. [Taking her hand slowly.] Upon my word, but you might knock me over.

Miles.  Miss has grown into a very superb young lady, Thomas.

Thomas. [Still looking at her.] That may be so, yet ’twasn’t as such I had figured she in the eye of my mind, like. [There is a moment’s silence.

Thomas.  George, my boy, you and sister Clara used to be up to rare games one with t’other once on a time. [Turning to Joan.] There, my wench, I count you’ve not forgotten Georgie?

Joan.  I’m afeared I’ve not much of a memory.

Thomas.  Shake hands, my maid, and very like as the memory will come back to roost same as the fowls do.