[CLARA _looks him gravely in the face without moving_. EMILY. Get up, do you hear, and help Maggie pass the dishes! THOMAS. [_Nervously_.] Nay, nay, ’twas my doing, Emily. I did tell the wenches as they might sit their-selves along of we, just for th’ occasion like. EMILY. And who are you, if you please, giving orders and muddling about like a lord in my kitchen? THOMAS. [_Faintly_.] Come, Emily, I’m the master. EMILY. And I, the mistress. Hear that, you piece of London impudence? GEORGE. [_Comes forward_.] Master Luke be coming up the garden, mistress. [LUKE JENNER _enters_. _He goes straight up to_ JOAN _and holds out his hand to her_, _and then to_ MILES. LUKE. I do wish you happiness with all my heart, Miss Clara. Miles, my lad, ’tis rare—rare pleased as I be to shake your hand this day. EMILY. Come, come, Luke Jenner, you’ve been and kept us waiting more nor half an hour. Can’t you sit yourself down and give other folk a chance of eating their victuals quiet? There’s naught to make all this giddle-gaddle about as I can see. LUKE. [_Sitting down in the empty place by_ JOAN’S _side_.] Beg pardon, mistress, I know I’m a bit late. But the victuals as are waited for do have a better flavour to them nor those which be ate straight from the pot like. THOMAS. That’s true ’tis. And ’tis hunger as do make the best sauce. [GEORGE _and_ MAGGIE _quietly seat themselves on either side of_ CLARA. EMILY _is too busy dispensing the food to take any notice_. GEORGE _hands plates and dishes to_ CLARA, _and silently cares for her comfort throughout the meal_. THOMAS. Well, Emily; well, Luke. I didn’t think to lose my little sister afore she’d stopped a three days in the place. That I did not. But I don’t grudge her to a fine prospering young man like friend Hooper, no, I don’t. EMILY. No one called upon you for a speech, Thomas. See if you can’t make yourself of some use in passing the green stuff. [_Turning to_ LUKE.] We have two serving maids and a man, Mister Jenner, but they’re to be allowed to act the quality to-day, so we’ve got to wait upon ourselves. LUKE. A man is never so well served as by his own two hands, mistress. That’s my saying at home. THOMAS. And a good one too, Luke, my boy, for most folk, but with me ’tis otherwise. I’ve got another pair of hands in the place as do for me as well, nor better than my own. EMILY. Yes, Thomas, I often wonders where you’d be without mine. THOMAS. I wasn’t thinking of yourn, Emily. ’Tis George’s hands as I was speaking of. EMILY. [_Contemptuously_.] George! You’ll all find out your mistake one day, Thomas. MILES. [_To_ JOAN, _who has been nervously handling her knife and fork and watching_ CLARA’S _movements furtively_.] My sweet Miss is not shewing any appetite. JOAN. I’m—I’m not used to country fare. EMILY. O, I hear you, Clara. Thomas, this is very fine. Clara can’t feed ’cause she’s not used to country fare! What next, I’d like to know!