MILLIE. And I could well mistake her for myself too, so listen, Annet. ’Tis you that shall talk with Master Andrew when he comes to-night. And ’tis you that shall give him my answer. I’ll not burn my lips by speaking the word he asks of me. ANNET. O Mill—I cannot—no I cannot. MILLIE. Don’t let him have it very easily, Annet. Set him a ditch or two to jump before he gets there. And let the thorns prick him a bit before he gathers the flower. You know my way with him. MAY. And I know it too, Millie—Why, your tongue, ’tis very near as sharp as when Aunt do speak. ANNET. O Millie, take off these things—I cannot do it, that’s the truth. MAY. [_Looking out through the door_.] There’s Andrew a-coming over the mill yard. MILLIE. Here, sit down, Annet, with the back of you to the light. [_She pushes_ ANNET _into a chair beneath the window_. MAY. Can I get into the cupboard and listen to it, Cousin Mill? MILLIE. If you promise to bide quiet and to say naught of it afterwards. MAY. O I promise, I promise—I’ll just leave a crack of the door open for to hear well. [MAY _gets into the cupboard_. MILLIE _takes up_ ANNET’S _new shawl and puts it all over her_. MILLIE. No one will think that ’tisn’t you, in the dusk. ANNET. O Millie, what is it that you’ve got me to do? MILLIE. Never you mind, Annet—you shall see what ’tis to have a grand suitor and I shall get a little while of quiet out yonder, where I can think on Giles. [_She runs out of the door just as_ ANDREW _comes up_. ANDREW _knocks and then enters the open door_. ANDREW. Where’s Annet off to in such a hurry? ANNET. [_Very faintly_.] I’m sure I don’t know. [ANDREW _lays aside his hat and comes up to the window_. _He stands before_ ANNET _looking down on her_. _She becomes restless under his gaze_, _and at last signs to him to sit down_. ANDREW. [_Sitting down on a chair a little way from her_.] The Master said that I might come along to-night, Millie—Otherwise—[ANNET _is still silent_. Otherwise I shouldn’t have dared do so. [ANNET _sits nervously twisting the ribbons of her cloak_. The Master said, as how may be, your feeling for me, Millie, might be changed like. [ANNET _is still silent_. And that if I was to ask you once more, very likely ’twould be something different as you might say. [_A long silence_. Was I wrong in coming, Millie? ANNET. [_Faintly_.] ’Twould have been better had you stayed away like. ANDREW. Then there isn’t any change in your feelings towards me, Millie? ANNET. O, there’s a sort of a change, Andrew. ANDREW. [_Slowly_.] O Mill, that’s good hearing. What sort of a change is it then? ANNET. ’Tis very hard to say, Andrew. ANDREW. Look you, Mill, ’tis more than a five year that I’ve been a-courting of you faithful. ANNET. [_Sighing_.] Indeed it is, Andrew. ANDREW. And I’ve never got naught but blows for my pains.