Glad, (sitting in the revolving chair and facing Mrs. Garside, standing centre). Have you no help?
Mrs. G. Me? Nay. I couldn't abide the thought of a strange woman doing 'owt for Peter. I've cared for him all his life, and I'll go on caring for him until he's put another woman in my place. Peter's wife won't be of my class. It'll be my duty then to keep myself out of her sight, and a hard job I'll find it, too, but I was never one to shirk.
Glad. Didn't I hear something about a girl in Midland-ton, who——
Mrs. G. (with conviction). Don't you believe it, miss. She wasn't fit to clean his boots.
Glad. And of course he's all London to choose from now.
Mrs. G. London! He'll never wed a Londoner.
Glad. No?
Mrs. G. He's in love with a Midlandton young lady. Calls her his inspiration and I don't know what. But I tell you this, miss, I don't care who, she is, she'll be doing well for herself when she marries my Peter.
Glad. You think she will marry him, then?
Mrs. G. I'd like to see the woman who'd refuse him when he asks her.