EMILY. The good-for-nothing hussy. I warrant as she have found something of mischief for her idle hands to do. MILES. If I may venture to say so, our Miss Clara is somewhat fatigued by her long stroll. London young ladies are very delicately framed, Missis Spring. EMILY. [_Pointing ungraciously_.] There’s chairs right in front of you. [MILES _and_ LUKE _lead_ JOAN _forward_, _placing her in an armchair with every attention_. JOAN _sinks into it_, _and_, _taking a little fan from the silken bag on her arm_, _begins to fan herself violently_. EMILY. [_Watching her with fierce contempt_.] Maybe as you’d like my kitchen wench to come and do that for you, Clara, seeing as your fine maid is gadding about the high roads instead of minding what it concerns her to attend to. JOAN. [_Faintly_.] O no, thank you. The day is rather warm—that’s all. EMILY. Warm, I should think it was warm in under of that great white curtain. JESSIE. Aunt Clara, I’m Jessie. JOAN. Are you, my dear? ROBIN. And I’m Robin. MILES. Now, I wager, if you are both good little children, this pretty lady will give you each a kiss. JOAN. [_Faintly_.] To be sure I will. JESSIE. Then you’ll have to take off that white thing from your face. ’Tis like what mother do spread over the currant bushes to keep the birds from the fruit. [JOAN _slowly raises her veil_, _showing her face_. JESSIE. Shall I give you a kiss, Aunt? EMILY. I’d be careful if I was you, Jess. Fine ladies be brittle as fine china. JESSIE. O I’ll kiss her very lightly, Mother. [_She goes up to_ JOAN _and kisses her_. ROBIN _then reaches up his face and_ JOAN _kisses him_. ROBIN. [_Rubbing his mouth_.] The flour do come from Aunt same as it does from a new loaf. MILES. [_To_ JOAN.] You must pardon these ignorant little country brats, Miss Clara. JOAN. O there’s nothing amiss, thank you. EMILY. Amiss, who said as there was? When folks what can afford to lodge at the inn do come down and fasten theirselves on the top of poor people, they must take things as they do find them and not start grumbling at the first set off. LUKE. There, there, Missis Spring. There wasn’t naught said about grumbling. But Miss Clara have come a smartish long distance, and it behoves us all as she should find summat of a welcome at the end of her journey, like. MILES. [_Aside to_ JOAN.] How strange this country tongue must fall on your ears, Miss Clara! JOAN. I don’t understand about half of what they say.