HORNBLOWER. I never had any say in mine till I had the brass, and nobody ever will. It's all hypocrisy. You county folk are fair awful hypocrites. Ye talk about good form and all that sort o' thing. It's just the comfortable doctrine of the man in the saddle; sentimental varnish. Ye're every bit as hard as I am, underneath. MRS. H. [Who had been standing very still all this time] You flatter us. HORNBLOWER. Not at all. God helps those who 'elp themselves-- that's at the bottom of all religion. I'm goin' to help meself, and God's going to help me. MRS. H. I admire your knowledge. HILLCRIST. We are in the right, and God helps---- HORNBLOWER. Don't ye believe it; ye 'aven't got the energy. MRS. H. Nor perhaps the conceit. HORNBLOWER. [Throwing out his forefinger] No, no; 'tisn't conceit to believe in yourself when ye've got reason to. [The JACKMAN'S have entered.] HILLCRIST. I'm very sorry, Mrs. Jackman, but I just wanted you to realise that I've done my best with this gentleman. MRS. J. [Doubtfully] Yes, sir. I thought if you spoke for us, he'd feel different-like. HORNBLOWER. One cottage is the same as another, missis. I made ye a fair offer of five pounds for the moving. JACKMAN. [Slowly] We wouldn't take fifty to go out of that 'ouse. We brought up three children there, an' buried two from it. MRS. J. [To MRS. HILLCRIST] We're attached to it like, ma'am. HILLCRIST. [To HORNBLOWER.] How would you like being turned out of a place you were fond of? HORNBLOWER. Not a bit. But little considerations have to give way to big ones. Now, missis, I'll make it ten pounds, and I'll send a wagon to shift your things. If that isn't fair--! Ye'd better accept, I shan't keep it open. [The JACKMANS look at each other; their faces show deep anger-- and the question they ask each other is which will speak.] MRS. J. We won't take it; eh, George? JACKMAN. Not a farden. We come there when we was married. HORNBLOWER. [Throwing out his finger] Ye're very improvident folk. HILLCRIST. Don't lecture them, Mr. Hornblower; they come out of this miles above you. HORNBLOWER. [Angry] Well, I was going to give ye another week, but ye'll go out next Saturday; and take care ye're not late, or your things'll be put out in the rain. MRS. H. [To MRS. JACKMAN] We'll send down for your things, and you can come to us for the time being. [MRS. JACKMAN drops a curtsey; her eyes stab HORNBLOWERS.] JACKMAN. [Heavily, clenching his fists] You're no gentleman! Don't put temptation in my way, that's all. HILLCRIST. [In a low voice] Jackman! HORNBLOWER. [Triumphantly] Ye hear that? That's your protegee! Keep out o' my way, me man, or I'll put the police on to ye for utterin' threats. HILLCRIST. You'd better go now, Jackman. [The JACKMANS move to the door.] MRS. J. [Turning] Maybe you'll repent it some day, sir. [They go out, MRS. HILLCRIST following.]