JESSIE AND ROBIN, _the children of Thomas and Emily_, _aged_ 10 _and_ 8. JOAN, _maid to Clara_. MILES HOOPER, _a rich draper_. LUKE JENNER, _a farmer_. LORD LOVEL. GEORGE, _aged_ 28. ACT I.—Scene 1. _A wood_. _It is a morning in June_. GEORGE, _carrying an empty basket_, _comes slowly through the wood_. _On reaching a fallen tree he sits down on it_, _placing his basket on the ground_. _With his stick he absently moves the grass and leaves that lie before him_, _and is so deeply lost in his own thoughts that he does not hear the approach of_ MILES _and_ LUKE _until they are by his side_. MILES. Here’s the very man to tell us all we want to know. LUKE. Why, if ’tisn’t George from Ox Lease. [GEORGE _half rises_. MILES. No, sit you down again, my lad, and we’ll rest awhile by the side of you. LUKE. That’s it, Miles. Nothing couldn’t have fallen out better for us, I’m thinking. MILES. You’re about right, Luke. Now, George, my man, we should very much appreciate a few words with you. GEORGE. [_Taking up his basket_.] Morning baint the time for words, masters. I count as words will keep till the set of sun. ’Tis otherwise with work. MILES. Work, why, George, ’tis clear you are come out but to gather flowers this morning. LUKE. ’Tis the very first time as ever I caught George an idling away of his time like this. GEORGE. ’Tis over to Brook as I be going, masters, to fetch back a couple of young chicken. Ourn be mostly old fowls, or pullets what do lay. LUKE. I never heard tell of young chicken being ate up at Ox Lease afore July was in. GEORGE. Nor me neither, master. Never heared nor seed such a thing. But mistress, her says, you can’t sit a maid from town at table unless there be poultry afore of she. They be rare nesh in their feeding, maids from town, so mistress do say. MILES. That just brings us to our little matter, George. When is it that you expect the young lady? GEORGE. The boxes of they be stacked mountains high in the bedroom since yesterday. And I count as the maids will presently come on their own feet from where the morning coach do set them down. LUKE. Nay, but there’s only one maid what’s expected. GEORGE. Miss Clara, what’s master’s sister; and the serving wench of she. MILES. Well, George, ’twas a great day for your master when old Madam Lovel took little Miss Clara to be bred up as one of the quality. GEORGE. A water plant do grow best by the stream, and a blossom, from the meadows, midst the grass. Let each sort bide in the place where ’twas seeded. MILES. No, no, George, you don’t know what you’re talking about. A little country wench may bloom into something very modish and elegant, once taken from her humble home and set amongst carpets of velvet and curtains of satin. You’ll see. GEORGE. ’Twould be a poor thing for any one to be so worked upon by curtains, nor yet carpets, master.