John. Welcome, Charity; a thousand times welcome!
Charity. I knew you'd be glad to see me. (Runs to Mrs. Maynard, and kisses her.) You dear, dear old Hannah!
Mrs. Maynard. Ah, Charity, you always bring sunlight with you.
Charity. A baby! bless me! Oh! it's yours, Kitty. That for you (kisses her), and this for the baby. (Kisses baby.)
Kitty. Young as ever, Mrs. Goodall. Come, Mrs. Maynard, let me carry the baby off to bed. Don't move: I know the way. (Takes baby, and exits r. u. e.)
John. Now, Charity, our boy—
Mrs. Maynard. Yes, Harry! What news?
Charity. Dear me! do let me get my things off. (Removes cloak and hat. Mrs. Maynard takes them, and carries them off r. u. e. Charity sits, and looks into fire.) What a glorious blaze! (John leans on back of bench.) Ah, John, I've often envied you your quiet evenings here, with this for company; often seen you and Hannah sitting here together, taking so much comfort. (Enter Mrs. Maynard, r. u. e., and leans on bench, between Charity and the fire.)
Mrs. Maynard. O Charity! tell us of our boy.
John. Yes, yes, Charity, be merciful: what of him?