Dorothy. Don't mind what these gentlemen say, Jennie, but go on.
[Yardsley sinks into the arm-chair. Barlow chuckles; Miss Andrews glances indignantly at him.
Dorothy. Pardon me, Mr. Barlow. If there is any humor in the situation, I fail to see it.
Barlow (seeing his error). Nor, indeed, do I. I was not—ah—laughing from mirth. That chuckle was hysterics, Miss Dorothy, I assure you. There are some laughs that can hardly be differentiated from sobs.
Jennie. I was all took in a heap, mum, to think of a fine gentleman like Mr. Yardsley proposing to me, mum, and I says the same. Says I, "Oh, Mr. Yardsley, this is so suddent like," whereat he looks up with a countenance so full o' pain that I hadn't the heart to refuse him; so, fergettin' Hicks for the moment, I says, kind o' soft like, certingly, sir. It ain't for the likes o' me to say no to the likes o' him.
Yardsley. Then you said you were engaged to Hicks. You know you did, Jennie.
Barlow. Ah! Then you admit the proposal?
Yardsley. Oh, Lord! Worse and worse! I—
Dorothy. Jennie has not finished her story.
Jennie. I did say as how I was engaged to Hicks, but I thought he would let me off; and Mr. Yardsley looked glad when I said that, and said he'd make it all right with Hicks.