ANGELA—Patience, the young woman who milks the cow and sleeps in the stable! Surely the gentleman's taste must be a trifle unæsthetic.
JANE—You must not question his motive. He is utterly transcendent in all he does. But the milkmaid, as you say, is indeed a little beneath the regard of one so truly too.
ALL—Indeed she is. (They all sigh.)
PATIENCE—(Appears at background and looks with contempt upon the lot. She then comes down.) What is the matter, girls, are you ill?
ALL—No, we are in love. (More misery.)