Grandmother. He’ll never be yourn to give—Dance till your legs is off and he’ll have naught to say to a gipsy brat when ’tis all finished.
Alice. Whilst my lady belongs to his lordship’s own class, ’tis but suitable as she should be the one to wed with him—knowing the foreign tongues and all, and playing so sweetly on her instruments. There’s a lady anyone would be proud to take before the Court in London.
[Susan turns away with a movement of despair. The Grandmother begins to smoke again. Lady Millicent fans herself and Alice arranges her own shawl.
Grandmother. I could do with a little pig up at our place if I’d the silver to take into the market for to buy him with. [A silence.
Grandmother. And I could do with a pair of good shoes to my poor old feet come winter time when ’tis snowing. [Another silence.
Grandmother. And ’twould be good not to go to bed with the pain of hunger within my lean old body—so ’twould. [Susan turns round suddenly.
Susan. I’ll do it, Gran. I’ll do it for your sake. ’Tis very likely true what you do say, all of you. I’d but dance my feet off for naught. When he came to look into my gipsy eyes, ’twould all be over and done with.
Lady Millicent. Sensible girl.
Alice. ’Tis time she should see which way her bread was spread.
Susan. Come, Jockie, come ladies—come Gran—we’ll be off to the quiet of our own place where I can learn her ladyship the steps and capers.