DANIEL. I likes doing things my own way, Mother. Women-folk, they be so buzzing. ’Tis like a lot of insects around of anyone on a summer’s day. A-saying this way and that—whilst a man do go at anything quiet and calm-like. [ANNET _comes in_. ANNET. Please, Uncle, Millie says that she isn’t coming down for no one. DANIEL. [_Roaring in fury_.] What! What’s that, my wench—isn’t a-coming down for no one? Hear that, Mother, hear that? I’ll have sommat to say to that, I will. [_Going to the door_. DANIEL. [_Roaring up the stairs_.] Hark you, Mill, down you comes this moment else I’ll smash the door right in, and that I will. [DANIEL _comes back into the room_, _storming violently_. DANIEL. Ah, ’tis a badly bred up wench is Millie, and her’d have growed up very different if I’d a-had the bringing up of she. But spoiled she is and spoiled her’ve always been, and what could anyone look for from a filly what’s been broke in by women folk! ELIZABETH. There, there, Father—there’s no need to bluster in this fashion. Take up the poker and go and break into the door quiet and decent, like anyone else would do. And girls—off for your bonnets this moment I tell you. [_She takes up a poker and hands it to_ DANIEL, _who mops his face and goes slowly out and upstairs_. ANNET _and_ MAY _leave the room_. _The farmer is heard banging at the door of Millie’s bedroom_. [ELIZABETH _moves about the room setting it in order_. ANDREW _comes in at the door_. _He carries a bunch of flowers_, _which he lays on the table_. ANDREW. Good-morning to you, mistress. ELIZABETH. Good-morning, Andrew. ANDREW. What’s going on upstairs? ELIZABETH. ’Tis Father at a little bit of carpentering. ANDREW. I’m come too soon, I reckon. ELIZABETH. We know what young men be upon their wedding morn! I warrant as the clock can’t run too fast for them at such a time. ANDREW. You’re right there, mistress. But the clock have moved powerful slow all these last few weeks—for look you here, ’tis a month this day since I last set eyes on Mill or had a word from her lips—so ’tis. ELIZABETH. You’ll have enough words presently. Hark, she’s coming down with Father now. [ANDREW _turns eagerly towards the door_. _The farmer enters with_ MILLIE _clinging to his arm_, _she wears her ordinary dress_. _Her hair is ruffled and in disorder_, _and she has been crying_. DANIEL. Andrew, my lad, good morning to you. ANDREW. Good morning, master. DANIEL. You mustn’t mind a bit of an April shower, my boy. ’Tis the way with all maids on their wedding morn. Isn’t that so, Mother? ELIZABETH. I wouldn’t make such a show of myself if I was you, Mill. Go upstairs this minute and wash your face and smooth your hair and put yourself ready for church.