MARY.--Oh ho--ho! [Mary has entered from garden, and bursts out crying.]

MISS P.--It can't be, John Howell--my dear, brave, kind John Howell.
It can't be. I have watched this for some time past, and poor Mary's
despair here. [Kisses Mary, who cries plentifully.] You have the heart
of a true, brave man, and must show it and prove it now. I am not--am
not of your pardon me for saying so--of your class in life. I was bred
by my uncle, away from my poor parents, though I came back to them after
his sudden death; and to poverty, and to this dependent life I am now
leading. I am a servant, like you, John, but in another sphere--have
to seek another place now; and heaven knows if I shall procure one, now
that that unlucky passage in my life is known. Oh, the coward to recall
it! the coward!

MARY.--But John whopped him, Miss! that he did. He gave it him well,
John did. [Crying.]

MISS P.--You can't--you ought not to forego an attachment like that,
John Howell. A more honest and true-hearted creature never breathed than
Mary Barlow.

JOHN.--No, indeed.

MISS P.--She has loved you since she was a little child. And you loved
her once, and do now, John.

MARY.--Oh, Miss! you hare a hangel,--I hallways said you were a hangel.

MISS P.--You are better than I am, my dear much, much better than I am,
John. The curse of my poverty has been that I have had to flatter and to