ROSE. [_Rises from the table and takes the nosegay_.] I’m sure you’re very kind, Mary—Suppose we were all to move into the parlour now we have finished dinner, and then we could enjoy a bit of conversation. LIZ. Very pleasant, I’m sure. JANE. I see no objection. KITTY. [_Running round to look at the flowers_.] And Mary shall tell us how to make charms out of the flowers—and the meanings of the blossoms and all the strange things she knows about them. JOHN. [_Taking a flower from the bunch and putting it into his coat_.] Yes, and how to brew tea as’ll curl up anyone’s tongue within the mouth for a year—and fancy drinks for sheep with foot rot, and powders against the murrain and any other nonsense that you do please. MARY. Now, John, I’ll not have you damage my business like this. LIZ. Maybe as the young person’s got sommat what’ll be handy with your complaint, sister. JANE. Or for when you be took with th’ air in your head so bad, Jane. ROSE. Yes, I reckon that Mary has a charm for every ill beneath the sun. Let’s go off to the parlour along of her. You’re not coming with us, John, are you? JOHN. I’d not miss the telling of these things for anything in the world, foolishness though they be. ROSE. Come along then—all of you. [_They all go out_. JEREMY _holds the door open for them_. _As she passes through it_ LIZ _says_, _looking at him_. LIZ. We shall hope for your company, too. JANE. To be sure, mister. JEREMY. [_Haughtily_.] I bain’t one for parlours, nor charms, ma’am. I be here for another purpose. [_They leave the room_. JEREMY. [_Having watched the party out_, _moves towards the cider jug_.] Now, my man, now, my wench—us’ll see what can be done with the victuals and drink they’ve been and left. ’Tis a fair heavy feed and drink as I do need. Sommat as’ll lift me up through all the trials of this here foolish matrimony and stuff. [_He raises the jug of cider to his mouth as the Curtain falls_. ACT III.—Scene 1. _The next morning_. ROBERT’S _cousins are standing by the fire-place of the same room_. LIZ. ’Tis powerful unhomely here, Jane. JANE. And that ’tis. I wish as Robert had never brought us along of him. LIZ. She’s a stuck-up jay of a thing what he’s about to wed if ever I seed one. JANE. That her be. He’ll live to wish hisself dead and buried one day. LIZ. There bain’t but one sensible tongue in the whole place to my mind. JANE. Ah, he’s a man to anyone’s liking, sister. LIZ. ’Tis homelike as he do make I to feel among all these strangers. JANE. Here he comes. [JEREMY _with a yoke and two pails stands at the doorway_. LIZ. Now do you come in, mister, and have a bit of talk along of we. JANE. Set down them pails and do as sister says, Mister Jeremy. [JEREMY _looks them all over and then slowly and deliberately sets down his pails_. LIZ. That’s right, sister and me was feeling terribly lonesome here this morning.