John. ’Tis not. There are some wenches who don’t know how to leave anyone alone. Worser than cattle flies, that sort.
Isabel. [Going across the room to Lubin’s side.] O you shame me by them words, I bain’t that sort of maid—you’ll answer for me—William?
[Lubin silently takes her hand.
Rose. [Her eyes fixed on Lubin.] I’ll tell you what, John; I’ll tell you, Kitty. I wish I’d held me to my first lover and I wish ’twas with Lubin that I was a-going to the church to-day.
Robert. [Sullenly.] Then I’ll say sommat, Rose. I wish ’twas with Isabel that I was getting wed.
John. Now, now—’Tis like two children a quarrelling over their playthings. Suppose you was to go and get yourself dressed, Rose-Anna—And you too, Robert. Why, the traps will be at the door afore you’re ready if you don’t quicken yourselves up a bit. Kitty, you go and help your sister.
Rose. [With a jealous glance at Isabel.] No, I’ll have Lucy with me.
John. That’s it, you keep her out of mischief
Kitty. I’ve got my own dress to put on.
John. And Robert, you and me will have a drink after all this caddle. ’Tis dry work getting ready for marriage so it appears.