_Jen._ Of me? _Wil._ (_takes ladder which is leaning against the house and places it against upper porch of house, and, going a little way up it, speaks this speech from it, JENNY remains seated._) Ay. Why, only Toosday, when I was at work again the high road, he rides up on his little bay ’oss, and he stands talking to me over the hedge and straining his neck to catch a sight of you at a window; that was Toosday. “Well, Wilcox,” says he, “it’s a fine day!”--it rained hard Toosday, but it’s always a fine day with him. “How’s Miss Northcott?” says he. “Pretty well, sir,” says I. “Pretty she always is; and well she ought to be if the best of hearts and the sweetest of natures will do it!” Well, I knew _that_, so off I goes to another subject, and tries to interest him in drainage, and subsoils, and junction pipes; but no, nothin’ would do for him, but he must bring the talk back to _you_. So at last I gets sick of it, and I up and says: “Look ye here, Mr. Spreadbrow,” says I, “I’m only the gardener. This is Toosday, and Miss Northcott’s pa’s in the study, and I dessay _he’ll_ be happy to hear what you’ve got to say about _her_.” Lord, it’d ha’ done your heart good to see how he flushed up as he stuck his spurs into the bay and rode off fifteen miles to the hour. (_Laughing._) That was Toosday. _Jen._ (_very angrily_). He had no right to talk about me to a servant. _Wil._ (_coming down from ladder_). But, bless you, don’t be hard on him, he couldn’t help it, miss. But don’t you be alarmed, he’s going away to-night, for many and many a long year, and you won’t never be troubled with _him_ again. He’s going with a heavy heart, take my word for it, and I see his eyes all wet, when he spoke about saying good-bye to you; he’d the sorrow in his throat, but he’s a brave lad, and he gulped it down, though it was as big as an apple. (_Ring._) There he is. Soothe him kindly, miss--don’t you be afraid, you’re safe enough--he’s a good lad, and he can’t do no harm now. [_Exit WILCOX._ _Jen._ What does he want to go to-day for? he wasn’t going for three months. He could remain if he liked; India has gone on very well without him for five thousand years: it could have waited three months longer; but men are always in such a hurry. He might have told me before--he _would_ have done so if he really, really liked me! I wouldn’t have left _him_--yes I would--but then that’s different. Well, if some people can go, some people can remain behind, and some other people will be only too glad to find _some people_ out of their way! _Enter SPREADBROW, followed by WILCOX._ _Jen._ (_suddenly changes her manner, rises and crosses_). Oh, Mr. Spreadbrow, how-d’ye-do? Quite well? I’m so glad! Sisters quite well? That’s right--how kind of you to think of my tree! So you are really and truly going to India to-night? That _is_ sudden!