ELIZA: But, don’t stand there. You’re looking pale and peaked. It’s heavy, traiking the fell-tracks with a baby: Come in, and rest a moment, if you’re tired. You cannot bide here long: I’m sorry, lass; But I’m expecting company; and you Yourself, I take it, won’t be over-eager For company. JUDITH: I’m tired enough, God kens-- Bone-weary: but we’ll not stay long, to shame you: And you can send us packing in good time, Before your company comes. (_She enters, and seats herself on a chair near the door. ELIZA busies herself, laying the table for tea, and there is silence for a while._) JUDITH: And so, Jim’s gone To fetch the company? ELIZA: Ay, Jim has gone ... (_She breaks off again abruptly, and says no more for a while. Presently she goes to the oven, takes out a griddle-cake, splits and butters it, and hands it to JUDITH._) ELIZA: Likely, you’re hungry, and could do with a bite? JUDITH (_taking it_): I’m famished. Cake! We’re grand, to-day, indeed! And scones and bannocks--carties, quite a spread! It’s almost like a wedding. ELIZA: A wedding, woman? Can’t folk have scones and bannocks and singing-hinnies, But you must prate of weddings--you, and all! JUDITH: I meant no harm. I thought, perhaps, Jim might ... Though, doubtless, he was married long ago? (_ELIZA does not answer. JUDITH’s baby begins to whimper, and she tries to hush it in an absent manner._) JUDITH: Whisht, whisht! my little lass! You mustn’t cry, And shame the ears of decent folk. Whisht, whisht! ELIZA: Why, that’s no way to hush the teelytoon. Come, give the bairn to me. Come, woman, come! (_Taking the child from JUDITH._) I’ll show you how to handle babies. There! JUDITH: And you would nurse my brat? ELIZA: A bairn’s a bairn-- Ay, even though its mother ... (_Breaks off abruptly, and stands, gazing before her, clasping the baby to her bosom._) JUDITH: Why don’t you finish? “Ay, even though its mother ...” you were saying. ELIZA: It’s ill work, calling names. JUDITH: You needn’t fear To make me blush by calling me any name That hasn’t stung me to the quick already. My pious father had a holy tongue; And he had searched the Scriptures to some purpose. ELIZA (_gazing before her in an abstracted manner_): Ay: likely enough.... Poor bairn, poor little bairn-- It’s strange, but, as you snuggled to my breast, I could have fancied, a moment, ’twas Jim I held In my arms again. I’m growing old and foolish, To have such fancies. JUDITH: Fancied ’twas Jim, your son-- My bastard brat? ELIZA: Shame on you, woman, to call Your own bairn such, poor innocent. It’s not To blame for being a chance-bairn. Yet ... O Jim!