GEORGE. Ah, them caddling sort of jobs don’t much agree with I, Miss Rose. And when I gets inside one of they great houses, where the maids do pad about in boots what you can’t hear, and do speak as though ’twere church and parson at his sermon, I can’t think of naught but how ’twill feel for to be out in the open again. Why, bless you, I do scarce fetch my breath in one of they places from fear as there should be too much sound to it, and the noise of my own hammer do very near scare I into fits. ROSE. Well, Mr. Davis, who would ever have thought it? [MRS. BROWNING _and_ DORRY _come back and the cider is put upon the table_, DORRY _and_ ANNIE _getting glasses from the dresser_. GEORGE. [_Drinking_.] Your health, Steve, and yours, too, Miss Sims. And many years of happiness to you both. STEVE. Thank you kindly, George. ANNIE. Thank you, Mr. Davis. DORRY. Hasn’t Miss Sims got a nice frock on her for the dance, Mr. Davis? GEORGE. Well, I’m blessed if I’d taken no notice of it, Dorry. DORRY. Why, you’re worse nor Dad, I do declare! But you just look at Rosie, now, Mr. Davis, and ask her what she’s got wrapped up in that there paper in her hand. ROSE. O, Dorry, you little tease, you! DORRY. You just ask her, Mr. Davis. ROSE. [_Undoing the parcel_.] There, ’tis nothing to make such a commotion of! Just a flower—see, Mr. Davis? I knowed as it was one what you was partial to, and so I just brought it along with me. GEORGE. That there bain’t for I, be it? ROSE. Indeed ’tis—if so as you’ll accept of it. GEORGE. O, ’tis best saved against to-morrow. The freshness will be most gone from it, if I was to wear it now. DORRY. No, no, Mr. Davis, ’tis for now! To wear at the dance. Put it on him, Rosie, put it on him. ROSE. [_Tossing the flower across the table to_ GEORGE.] He can put it on hisself well enough, Dorry. GEORGE. [_After a moment’s hesitation_.] I don’t know so well about that. ANNIE. Go on, Rosie—pin it into his coat. Come, ’tis getting late. DORRY. O, pin it in quick, Rosie—come along—and then we can start to the dancing. ROSE. Shall I, Mr. Davis? [GEORGE _gets up and crosses the room_; ROSE _takes the flower and_ DORRY _hands her a pin_. _She slowly pins the flower in his coat_. STEVE. [_Stretching out his hand to_ ANNIE.] You be so quiet like to-night, Annie. There isn’t nothing wrong, is there, my dear? ANNIE. ’Tis only I’m that full of gladness, Steve, as I don’t seem to find words to my tongue for the things what I can talk on most days. STEVE. And that’s how ’tis with I, too, Annie. ’Tis as though I was out in the meadows, like—And as though ’twere Sunday, and such a stillness all around that I might think ’twas only me as was upon the earth. But then summat stirs in me sudden and I knows that you be there, too, and ’tis my love for you what has put me right away from the rest of them.