DANIEL. Well, that's a likely tale it is. Hear that, Mother? 'Tis
with her eyes that this little wench do snuff at a flower. That's
good, bain't it?

ELIZABETH. I haven't patience with the wenches now-a-days. Lay down
that nosegay at once, Annet, and call your cousin from her room. I
warrant she has finished tricking of herself up by now.

DANIEL. Ah, I warrant as her'll need a smartish bit of time for to
take the creases out of the face of she.

[ANDREW and MAY come in.]

DANIEL. Well, Andrew, my lad, 'tis about time as we was on the way
to church I reckon.

ANDREW. I count as 'tis full early yet, master.

[He takes up the nosegay from the table and crosses the room to the
window where ANNET is standing, and trying to control her tears.

ANDREW. Annet, Millie will have none of my blossoms. I should like
it well if you would carry them in your hand to church this day.

ANNET. [Looking wonderingly at him.] Me, Andrew?

ANDREW. Yes, you, Annet. For, look you, they become you well. They
have sommat of the sweetness of you in them. And the touch of them
is soft and gentle. And--I would like you to keep them in your hands