Jen. Have you any fault to find with poor Tom?
Ruth. No, miss, I’ve no fault to find with Tom. But a girl can’t marry every young man she don’t find fault with, can she now, miss?
Jen. Certainly not, Ruth. But Tom seems to think you have given him some cause to believe that you are fond of him.
Ruth (bridling up). It’s like his impudence, miss, to say so! Fond of him indeed!
Jen. He hasn’t said so, Ruth, but I’m quite sure he thinks so. I have noticed of late that you have taken a foolish pleasure in playing fast and loose with poor Tom, and this has made him very unhappy—very unhappy indeed; so much so that I think it is very likely that he will make up his mind to leave my service altogether.
Ruth (piqued). Oh, miss, if Tom can make up his mind to go, I’m sure I wouldn’t stand in his way for worlds.
Jen. But I think you would be sorry if he did.
Ruth. Oh yes, miss, I should be sorry to part with Tom!
Jen. Then I think it’s only right to tell you that the foolish fellow talks about enlisting for a soldier, and if he does it at all, he will do it to-night.