[Luke Jenner enters. He goes straight up to Joan and holds out his hand to her, and then to Miles.
Luke. I do wish you happiness with all my heart, Miss Clara. Miles, my lad, ’tis rare—rare pleased as I be to shake your hand this day.
Emily. Come, come, Luke Jenner, you’ve been and kept us waiting more nor half an hour. Can’t you sit yourself down and give other folk a chance of eating their victuals quiet? There’s naught to make all this giddle-gaddle about as I can see.
Luke. [Sitting down in the empty place by Joan’s side.] Beg pardon, mistress, I know I’m a bit late. But the victuals as are waited for do have a better flavour to them nor those which be ate straight from the pot like.
Thomas. That’s true ’tis. And ’tis hunger as do make the best sauce.
[George and Maggie quietly seat themselves on either side of Clara. Emily is too busy dispensing the food to take any notice. George hands plates and dishes to Clara, and silently cares for her comfort throughout the meal.
Thomas. Well, Emily; well, Luke. I didn’t think to lose my little sister afore she’d stopped a three days in the place. That I did not. But I don’t grudge her to a fine prospering young man like friend Hooper, no, I don’t.
Emily. No one called upon you for a speech, Thomas. See if you can’t make yourself of some use in passing the green stuff. [Turning to Luke.] We have two serving maids and a man, Mister Jenner, but they’re to be allowed to act the quality to-day, so we’ve got to wait upon ourselves.
Luke. A man is never so well served as by his own two hands, mistress. That’s my saying at home.
Thomas. And a good one too, Luke, my boy, for most folk, but with me ’tis otherwise. I’ve got another pair of hands in the place as do for me as well, nor better than my own.