“Did you ever see a man in such a case?” said Liza, wiping away the hysterical tears of merriment that coursed down her cheeks.
“Wait a bit,” said Robbie, rather stepping out of his character.
It was a part of the “business” of this tragedy, as Robbie had seen it performed in Carlisle, that Romeo should cast a nosegay up into the balcony to Juliet. Robbie had provided himself with the “property” in question, and, pending the moment at which it was necessary to use it, he had deposited it on the floor behind him. But in the fervor of impersonation, he had not observed that Liza had crept up and stolen it away.
“Where's them flowers?” cried Romeo, scarcely sotto voce.
When the nosegay was yielded up to the lover on his knees, it was found to be about three times as big as Juliet's head.
The play came to an abrupt conclusion; the spinning-wheels were pushed aside, a fiddle was brought out, and then followed a dance.
“Iverything has a stopping spot but time,” said Mattha Branthwaite, coming in, his hat and cloak on.
The night was spent. The party must break up.
The girls drew on their bonnets and shawls, and the young men shouldered the wheels.
A large company were to sail up the mere to the city in the row-boat, and Rotha, Ralph, and Willy walked with them to Water's Head. Sim remained with Mrs. Ray.