IVY. Please, Mr. Strangway, yu don't notice when yu're walkin'; yu go along like this.
[She holds up her face as one looking at the sky.]
STRANGWAY. Bad as that, Ivy?
IVY. Mrs. Strangway often used to pick it last spring.
STRANGWAY. Did she? Did she?
[He has gone off again into a kind of dream.]
MERCY. I like being confirmed.
STRANGWAY. Ah! Yes. Now——What's that behind you, Mercy?
MERCY. [Engagingly producing a cage a little bigger than a mouse-trap, containing a skylark] My skylark.
STRANGWAY. What!