Jeremy. No, from the roadside.
Rose. Worser far.
John. No, no, Rose. These young persons were spoken for by Mary Meadows. And ’tis rare fortunate for we to obtain their services at short notice like this.
Rose. [To Isabel.] What are you called, my girl?
Isabel. [Faintly.] Isabel is my name, but I’d sooner you called me Lucy.
Rose. And that I will. My tongue is used to Lucy. The other is a flighty, fanciful name for a servant.
Kitty. And what is the man called, John?
Lubin. [Harshly.] I am called William.
Kitty. William and Lucy! Like the ones that ran away this morning.
Rose. O do not let us waste any more time! Jerry, do you take the man and shew him his work in the back kitchen; and Lucy, come to me and help me with my gown and my hair dressing. We have not a minute to lose.