Jessie. [Coming back.] I’ve laid the curtains on the bed, shall I gather some flowers and set them on the table, mother?
Emily. I’d like to see you! Flowers in the bedroom? I never heard tell of such senseless goings on. What next, I’d like to know?
George. Miss Clara always did fill a mug of clover blooms and set it aside of her bed when her was a little thing—so high.
Jessie. Do you remember our fine aunt, then, Georgie?
George. I remembers Miss Clara right enough.
Emily. Don’t you flatter yourself, George, as such a coxsy piece of town goods will trouble herself to remember you.
Thomas. The little maid had a good enough heart to her afore she was took away from us.
Jessie. Do you think our aunt Clara has growed into a coxsy town lady, George?
George. No, I do not, Miss Jessie.
Emily. [Beginning to stir about noisily as she sets the kitchen in order.] Get off with you to the field, Thomas, can’t you. I’ve had enough to do as ’tis without a great hulking man standing about and taking up all the room.