Rachel (with a start). Good evening.
Fitzhugh (aside). She is adorable. She can be no common village wench. (Aloud.) Do you live here, my girl?
Rachel. Yes, I have always lived here. (Aside.) How handsome he is. Down, fluttering heart.
Fitzhugh (sitting on the log beside her). And who is the lucky village lad who is privileged to woo such beauty?
Rachel. I have no lover, Sir.
Fitzhugh (taking her hand). Can Hodge be so blind?
Rachel (innocently). Are you making love to me?
Fitzhugh. Upon my word I—(He gets up from the log, which is not really comfortable.) What is your name?
Rachel. Rachel. (She rises.)
Fitzhugh. It is the most beautiful name in the world. Rachel, will you be my wife?