Rose. He puts me in mind of—well—there, I can’t recollect who ’tis. [A knock is heard at the door.
Rose. [Sharply to Isabel.] Go and see who ’tis, Lucy.
[Isabel opens the door, and Mary Meadows stands on the threshold, a large nosegay of beautiful wild flowers in her hand.
John. [Rising up in great pleasure.] You’re late, Mary. But you’re welcome as the—as the very sunshine.
Rose. Set another place, Lucy.
Mary. Not for me, Rose. I did not come here to eat or drink, but to bring you these few blossoms and my love.
Rose. [Rises from the table and takes the nosegay.] I’m sure you’re very kind, Mary—Suppose we were all to move into the parlour now we have finished dinner, and then we could enjoy a bit of conversation.
Liz. Very pleasant, I’m sure.
Jane. I see no objection.
Kitty. [Running round to look at the flowers.] And Mary shall tell us how to make charms out of the flowers—and the meanings of the blossoms and all the strange things she knows about them.