(Janet, dressed in a white semi-bridal costume, is on her knees at the side of the couch, quietly weeping. After a few moments the door opens, admitting a pale flood of sunshine. The murmur of conversation in the passage without is heard. Mrs. Ransome enters. She is an intelligent, comfortable-looking middle-aged woman. She wears an elaborate dress of light gray, of a fashion of some years previous, evidently kept for special occasions. She is somewhat hysterical in manner and punctuates her conversation with sniffles.) MRS. RANSOME. My dear child, now do stop cryin’. Won’t you stop cryin’? Your Aunt Maud’s just come, and wants to know if she can see you. JANET. I don’t want to see her. I don’t want to see nobody. MRS. RANSOME. But your aunt, my dear— JANET. No, mother, not nobody. (_Mrs. Ransome goes to door and holds a whispered conversation with somebody outside. She then returns, closing the door behind her, and sits on chair close to Janet._) MRS. RANSOME. She’s goin’ to wait for your father. He’s almost crazy with worry. All I can say is—thank God it was to have bin a private wedding. If we’d had a lot of people here, I don’t know what I should have done. Now, quit yer cryin’, Janet. I’m sure we’re doin’ all we can for you, dear. (_Janet continues to weep softly._) Come, dear, try and bear up. Try and stop cryin’. Your eyes are all red, dear, and the minister’ll be here in a minute. JANET. I don’t want to see him, mother. Can’t you see I don’t want to see nobody? MRS. RANSOME. I know, my dear. We tried to stop him comin’, but he says to your father, he says, “If I can’t come to her weddin’, it’s my duty to try to comfort your daughter”; and that certainly is a fine thing for him to do, for a man in his position, too. And yer father—he feels it as much as you do, what with the trouble he’s been to in buying all that furniture for you and him, and one thing and another. He says that Bob must have had a weak heart, an’ it’s some consolation he was took before the weddin’ and not after, when you might have had a lot of children to look after. An’ he’s right, too. JANET (_Talks to body_). Oh, Bob! Bob! Why did you go when I want you so? MRS. RANSOME. Now, now! My poor girl. It makes my heart bleed to hear you. JANET. Oh, Bob! I want you so. Won’t you wake up, Bob? MRS. RANSOME (_Puts her arms around Janet and bursts into sobs_). There—you’re cryin’ yer eyes out. There—there—you’ve still got your old mother—there—there—just like when you was a baby—there— JANET. Mother—I want to tell you something— MRS. RANSOME. Well, tell me, dear, what is it? JANET. You don’t know why me and Bob was goin’ to get married. MRS. RANSOME. Why you and Bob was goin’ to get married? JANET. Didn’t you never guess why we was goin’ to get married—sort of _all of a sudden_?