MILLIE. [_Taking up the glass bowl_.] Only a drink of water, master? Then take, and be comforted. [_She holds the bowl before him for him to drink_. _As he takes it_, _he drops a ring into the water_. _He then drinks and hands the bowl back to_ MILLIE. _For a moment she gazes speechless at the bottom of the bowl_. _Then she lifts the ring from it and would drop the bowl but for_ MAY, _who takes it from her_. MILLIE. Master, from whom did you get this? GILES. Look well at the stones of it, mistress, for they are clouded and dim. MILLIE. And not more clouded than the heart which is in me, master. O do you bring me news? GILES. Is it not all too late for news, mistress? MILLIE. Not if it be the news for which my heart craves, master. GILES. And what would that be, mistress? [MILLIE _goes to_ GILES, _and with both hands slowly pushes back his big hat and gazes at him_. MILLIE. O Giles, my true love. You are come just in time. Another hour and I should have been wed. GILES. And so you knew me, Mill? MILLIE. O Giles, no change of any sort could hide you from the eyes of my love. GILES. Your love, Millie. And is that still mine? MILLIE. It always has been yours, Giles. O I will go with you so gladly in poor clothing and in hunger all over the face of the earth. [_She goes to him and clasps his arm_; _and_, _standing by his side_, _faces all those in the room_. ELIZABETH. [_Angrily_.] Please to come to your right senses, Millie. DANIEL. Come, Andrew, set your foot down as I’ve set mine. ANDREW. Nay, master. There’s naught left for me to say. The heart does shew us better nor all words which way we have to travel. MAY. And are you going to marry a beggar man instead of Andrew, who looks so brave and fine in his wedding clothes, Millie? MILLIE. I am going to marry him I have always loved, May—and—O Andrew, I never bore you malice, though I did say cruel and hard words to you sometimes.—But you’ll not remember me always—you will find gladness too, some day. ANDREW. I count as I shall, Millie. DANIEL. Come, come, I’ll have none of this—my daughter wed to a beggar off the highway! Mother, ’tis time you had a word here. ELIZABETH. No, Father, I’ll leave you to manage this affair. ’Tis you who have spoiled Mill and brought her up so wayward and unruly, and ’tis to you I look for to get us out of this unpleasant position. MAY. Dear Millie—don’t wed my brother Giles. Why, look at his ragged smock and his bare feet. MILLIE. I shall be proud to go bare too, so long as I am by his side, May. [GILES _goes to the door and blows his whistle three times and loudly_. MAY. What’s that for, Giles? GILES. You shall soon see, little May. DANIEL. I’ll be hanged if I’ll stand any more of this caddling nonsense. Here, Mill—the trap’s come to the door. Into it with you, I say. GILES. I beg you to wait a moment, master.