Act III

SCENE.--A room in STEER'S House. Door leading into bedroom at the back.

DORA (ringing a handbell). Milly!

Enter MILLY.

MILLY. The little 'ymn? Yeäs, Miss; but I wur so ta'en up wi' leädin' the owd man about all the blessed murnin' 'at I ha' nobbut larned mysen haäfe on it.

'O man, forgive thy mortal foe, Nor ever strike him blow for blow; For all the souls on earth that live To be forgiven must forgive. Forgive him seventy times and seven: For all the blessed souls in Heaven Are both forgivers and forgiven.'

But I'll git the book ageän, and larn mysen the rest, and saäy it to ye afoor dark; ye ringed fur that, Miss, didn't ye?

DORA. No, Milly; but if the farming-men be come for their wages, to send them up to me.

MILLY. Yeäs, Miss. [Exit.

DORA (sitting at desk counting money). Enough at any rate for the present. (Enter FARMING MEN.) Good afternoon, my friends. I am sorry Mr. Steer still continues too unwell to attend to you, but the schoolmaster looked to the paying you your wages when I was away, didn't he?

MEN. Yeäs; and thanks to ye.

DORA. Some of our workmen have left us, but he sent me an alphabetical list of those that remain, so, Allen, I may as well begin with you.

ALLEN (with his hand to his ear). Halfabitical! Taäke one o' the young 'uns fust, Miss, fur I be a bit deaf, and I wur hallus scaäred by a big word; leästwaäys, I should be wi' a lawyer.

DORA. I spoke of your names, Allen, as they are arranged here (shows book)--according to their first letters.

ALLEN. Letters! Yeas, I sees now. Them be what they larns the childer' at school, but I were burn afoor schoolin-time.

DORA. But, Allen, tho' you can't read, you could whitewash that cottage of yours where your grandson had the fever.

ALLEN. I'll hev it done o' Monday.

DORA. Else if the fever spread, the parish will have to thank you for it.

ALLEN. Meä? why, it be the Lord's doin', noän o' mine; d'ye think I'd gi'e 'em the fever? But I thanks ye all the saäme, Miss. (Takes money.)

DORA (calling out names). Higgins, Jackson, Luscombe, Nokes, Oldham, Skipworth! (All take money.) Did you find that you worked at all the worse upon the cold tea than you would have done upon the beer?

HIGGINS. Noä, Miss; we worked naw wuss upo' the cowd tea; but we'd ha' worked better upo' the beer.

DORA. Come, come, you worked well enough, and I am much obliged to all of you. There's for you, and you, and you. Count the money and see if it's all right.

MEN. All right, Miss; and thank ye kindly.

[Exeunt LUSCOMBE, NOKES, OLDHAM, SKIPWORTH.

DORA. Dan Smith, my father and I forgave you stealing our coals.

[DAN SMITH advances to DORA.

DAN SMITH (bellowing). Whoy, O