The same room, two hours later. Vashti Reed seems to be sleeping as before by the fireside. On the settle May is huddled, her head bent, the shawl drawn over her face. Jane Browning moves about, putting away work things, cups and plates, seeing that the window is closed, winding the clock, etc. There is a tap at the outer door and Jane opens it. Steve, Annie and Dorry enter.
Jane. Whatever kept you so late, Steve, and me a-sitting up for to let you all in and not able to get away to my bed?
Dorry. O, Gran’ma, it was beautiful, I could have stopped all night, I could. We comed away early ’cause Miss Sims, she said as the dancing gived her the headache, but the New Year han’t been danced in yet, it han’t.
Jane. You get and dance off to bed, Dorry, that’s what you’ve got to do—and quickly.
Dorry. All right, Gran’ma. Good-night, Miss Sims; good-night, Dad. O, why, there’s Granny! But her’s tight asleep so I shan’t say nothing to her. O, I do wish as there was dancing, and lamps, and music playing every night, I do!
[Dorry goes towards the staircase door.
Jane. [Calling after her.] I’m a-coming along directly. Be careful with the candle, Dorry.
[Jane opens the door and Dorry goes upstairs. Steve and Annie come towards the fireplace.
Steve. Was there aught as you could do for yonder poor thing?
Jane. Poor thing, indeed! A good-for-nothing roadster what’s been and got herself full of the drink, and that’s what’s the matter with she. See there, how she do lie, snoring asleep under the shawl of her; and not a word nor sound have I got out of she since giving her the drop of tea a while back.