Miles. [Bending over Joan.] My sweet Missy has no acquaintance with this gentleman, I am sure.

[Lord Lovel suddenly turns round and perceives Clara seated by Maggie at the table.  He quickly goes towards her, holding out his hand.

Lord Lovel.  Miss Clara.  Tell me what is going on. [Looking at her cap and apron.] Why have you dressed yourself like this?

Thomas.  Come, come.  There seems to be some sort of a hitch here.  The young gentleman has very likely stopped a bit too long at the Spotted Cow on his way up.

Joan. [Very faintly, looking at Clara.] O do you stand by me now.

Clara. [Lays her hand on lord LOVEL’s arm.] Come with me, my lord.  I think I can explain everything if you will only step outside with me.  Come—­[She leads him swiftly through the door which George shuts behind them.]

[Joan leans back in her chair as though she were going to faint.

Thomas.  Well, now—­but that’s a smartish wench, getting him out so quiet, like.  George, you’d best step after them to see as the young man don’t annoy her in any way.

Emily.  That young person can take good care of herself.  Sit you down, Thomas and George, and get on with your eating, if you can.

Jessie.  Why did he think Joan was our aunt, mother?

Emily.  ’Cause he was in that state when a man don’t know his right leg from his left arm.

George. [Who has remained standing.] Look you here, Master Thomas—­ see here mistress.  ’Tis time as there was an end of this cursed play acting, or whatever ’tis called.

Emily.  Play acting there never has been in my house, George, I’d like for you to know.

George.  O yes there have been, mistress.  And ’tis time it was finished. [Pointing to Joan.] You just take and ask that young person what she do mean by tricking herself out in Miss Clara’s gowns and what not, and by having herself called by Miss Clara’s own name.

Miles. [Taking Joan’s hand in his.] My sweet Miss must pay no attention to the common fellow.  I dare him to speak like that of my little lady bride.

George.  A jay bird in peacock’s feathers, that’s what ’tis.  And she’s took you all in, the every one of you.

Jessie.  O George, isn’t she really our aunt from London?

George.  No, that she baint, Miss Jessie.

Thomas.  Come, come, my lad.  I never knew you act so afore.

Emily.  ’Tis clear where he have spent his time this afternoon.

Luke.  Nay, nay, I never did see George inside of the Spotted Cow in all the years I’ve known of him.  George baint made to that shape.

Robin.  Then who is Aunt Clara, George?