JESSIE. [_Coming quite close to_ JOAN _and looking straight into her face_.] That’s great gran’ma’s chair, what Dad said you’d be best pleased for to see. [JOAN _looks very confused and begins to fan herself hastily_. JESSIE. And th’ old clock’s another thing what Dad did say as you’d look upon. JOAN. O the old clock’s well enough, to be sure. JESSIE. I did want to gather a nosegay of flowers to set in your bedroom, Aunt, but Mother, she said, no. JOAN. [_Languidly_.] I must say I don’t see any flowers blooming here that I should particular care about having in my apartment. JESSIE. And Father said as how you’d like to smell the blossoms in the garden. And Georgie told as how you did use to gather the clover blooms when you was a little girl and set them by you where you did sleep. JOAN. [_Crossly_.] O run away, child, I’m tired to death with all this chatter. How would you like to be so pestered after such a travel over the rough country roads as I have had? LUKE. Now, my little maid, off you go. Take back the tray to Mother, and be careful as you don’t break the glasses on it. JESSIE. [_Taking up the tray_.] I’m off to play in the hayfield along of Robin, then. [LUKE _opens the back kitchen door for her and she goes out_. _Meanwhile_ MILES _has taken up the fan and is fanning_ JOAN, _who leans back in her chair with closed eyes and exhausted look_. LUKE. [_Coming to her side and sitting down_.] ’Twill seem more homelike when Thomas do come up from the field. JOAN. [_Raising herself and looking at him_.] You mustn’t trouble about me, Mister Jenner. I shall be quite comfortable presently. [_The back door opens and_ MAGGIE _comes hurriedly in_. MAGGIE. Please, mistress, there be a young person a-coming through the rick yard. JOAN. [_Nervously_.] A young person? MAGGIE. Mistress be at the gooseberries a-gathering of them, and the children be gone off to th’ hay field. MILES. ’Tis very likely your serving maid, dear Miss. Shall I fetch the young woman in to you? JOAN. My maid, did you say? My maid? LUKE. Ah, depend on it, ’tis she. MAGGIE. The young person do have all the looks of a serving wench, mistress. She be tramping over the yard with naught but a white handkerchief over the head of she and a poking into most of the styes and a-calling of the geese and poultry. LUKE. That’s her, right enough. Bring her in, Mag. JOAN. [_Agitatedly_.] No, no—I mean—I want to see her particular—and alone. I’ll go to meet her. You—gentlemen—[MAGGIE _goes slowly into the back kitchen_. MILES. [_Placing a chair for_ JOAN.] Delicate ladies should not venture out into the heat at this time of day.