Rose. [To George.] Well, Mr. Davis, you don’t seem over bright this morning.
Steve. ’Tis with the nerves as he be took!
Dorry. Look at what he’s wearing in his buttonhole, Rosie.
Rose. ’Tis kept beautiful and fresh.
Steve. Come on, come on, all of you. ’Tis time we was at the church.
Rose. Hark to him! He’s in a rare hurry for to get out of the house to-day.
George. Bain’t the old lady a-coming?
Jane. That she bain’t, the old drinking gipsy—’tis at the spirits as her got in the night—and put away very near the best part of a bottle. Now she’s best left to sleep it off, she be.
Steve. Come on, George. Come, Dorry.
Dorry. O, isn’t it a pity as Granny will get at the drink, Mr. Davis? And isn’t Miss Sims nice in her white dress? And don’t Dad look smiling and pleased? I never did know Dad smile like this afore.