Joan. Mine? The French bonnet and the satin cloak?
Clara. To comfort you for the pains of the country, Joan.
Joan. O mistress, let us stop a moment longer in this quiet place so that I may slip them on and see how they become me.
Clara. As you will. Listen, that is the cuckoo singing.
Joan. [Throwing off her cotton bonnet and shawl and dressing herself hastily in the bonnet and cloak.] O what must it feel like to be a grand lady and wear such things from dawn to bed time.
Clara. I am very glad to be without them for a while. How good the air feels on my head.
Joan. There, mistress, how do I look?
Clara. Very nicely, Joan. So nicely that if you like, you may keep them upon you for the remainder of the way.
Joan. O mistress, may I really do so?
Clara. Yes. And Joan, do you go onwards to the farm by the quickest path which is through this wood and across the high road. Anyone will shew you where the place is. I have a mind to wander about in some of the meadows which I remember. But I will join you all in good time.