ELIZABETH. Millie has not seen fit to shew herself this morning,
Father. She's biding up in her room with the door locked, and
nothing that I've been able to say has been attended to, so perhaps
you'll kindly have your try.

DANIEL. Bless my soul--where's May? Where's Annet? Send one of the
little maids up to her, and tell her 'tis very nigh time for us to be
off.

ELIZABETH. I'm fairly tired of sending up to her, Father. You'd
best go yourself.

[MAY comes into the room.

MAY. Please Aunt, the door, 'tis still locked, and Millie is crying
ever so sadly within, and she won't open to me, nor speak, nor
nothing.

ELIZABETH. There, Father,--perhaps you'll believe what I tell you
another time. Millie has got that hardened and wayward, there's no
managing of her, there's not.

DANIEL. Ah, 'twon't be very long as us'll have the managing of she.
'Twill be young Andrew as'll take she in hand after this day.

ELIZABETH. 'Tis all very well to talk of young Andrew, but who's a-
going to get her to church with him I'd like to know.

DANIEL. Why, 'tis me as'll do it, to be sure.