[George comes involuntarily forward and stands behind Clara’s chair. Clara does not move.
Emily. Get you out of that there place this instant, do you hear? [Turning to Miles.] To see the way the young person acts one might think as she fancied herself as something uncommon rare and high. But you’ll not take any fool in, not you, for all that you like to play the fine lady. Us can see through your game very clear, can’t us, Mr. Hooper?
Miles. O certainly, to be sure, Missis Spring. No one who has the privilege of being acquainted with a real lady of quality could be mistook by any of the games played by this young person.
[Clara looks him gravely in the face without moving.
Emily. Get up, do you hear, and help Maggie pass the dishes!
Thomas. [Nervously.] Nay, nay, ’twas my doing, Emily. I did tell the wenches as they might sit their-selves along of we, just for th’ occasion like.
Emily. And who are you, if you please, giving orders and muddling about like a lord in my kitchen?
Thomas. [Faintly.] Come, Emily, I’m the master.
Emily. And I, the mistress. Hear that, you piece of London impudence?
George. [Comes forward.] Master Luke be coming up the garden, mistress.