MRS. BURLACOMBE. [With covert malice] Aw! I du hope 'twon't upset
the Rector, an' 'is fute so poptious!

MRS. BRADMERE. [Grimly] His foot'll be sound enough to come down
sharp. By the way, will you send me a duck up to the Rectory?

MRS. BURLACOMBE. [Glad to get away] Zurely, m'm; at once. I've
some luv'ly fat birds.

[She goes into the house.]

MRS. BRADMERE. Old puss-cat!

[She turns to go, and in the doorway encounters a very little,
red-cheeked girl in a peacock-blue cap, and pink frock, who
curtsies stolidly.]

MRS. BRADMERE. Well, Tibby Jarland, what do you want here? Always
sucking something, aren't you?

[Getting no reply from Tibby JARLAND, she passes out. Tibby
comes in, looks round, takes a large sweet out of her mouth,
contemplates it, and puts it back again. Then, in a perfunctory
and very stolid fashion, she looks about the floor, as if she
had been told to find something. While she is finding nothing
and sucking her sweet, her sister MERCY comes in furtively,
still frowning and vindictive.]

MERCY. What! Haven't you found it, Tibby? Get along with 'ee,
then!