o alternative. I am grieved to be the
bearer of bad tidings, but I am sure you will find a comfortable
home awaiting you, Mrs.--er--Ormerod.

SARAH. 'Appen A shall an' 'appen A shan't. Theer's no tellin' 'ow
you'll favor a thing till you've tried it.

ALLEYNE. You must resign yourself to the will of Providence. The
consolations of religion are always with us. Shall I pray with
you?

SARAH. A never were much at prayin' when A were well off, an' A
doubt the Lord ud tak' it kind o' selfish o' me if A coom cryin'
to 'im now A'm 'urt.

ALLEYNE. He will understand. Can I do nothing for you?

SARAH. A dunno as tha can, thankin' thee all same.

ALLEYNE. I am privileged with Mr. Blundell's permission to bring
a little gift to you, Mrs. Ormerod. (_Feeling in his coattails
and bringing out a Testament._) Allow me to present you with this
Testament, and may it help you to bear your Cross with resignation.
(_He hands her the Testament._ SARAH _does not raise her hands,
and it drops on her lap._ ALLEYNE _takes it again and puts it on
the table._) Ah, yes, of course--your poor hands--I understand.

SARAH. Thankee kindly. Readin' don't coom easy to me, an' my eyes
aren't what they were, but A'll mak' most of it.

ALLEYNE. You will never read that in vain. And now, dear sister,
I must go. I will pray for strength for you. All will be well.
Good day.

SARAH. Good day to thee.

(_Exit_ ALLEYNE.)

EMMA. Tha doesn't look so pleased wi' tha gift, Mrs. Ormerod.

SARAH. It's not square thing of th' ould Parson, Emma. 'E should
'a' coom an' tould me 'isself. Looks like 'e were feart to do it.
A never could abide them curate lads. We doan't want no grand
Lunnon gentlemen down 'ere. 'E doan't understand us no more than
we understand 'im. 'E means all reeght, poor lad. Sithee, Emma,
A've bin a church-goin' woman all my days. A was browt oop to
church, an' many's th' bit o' brass they've 'ad out o' me in my
time. An' in th' end they send me a fine curate with a tuppenny
Testament. That's all th' good yo' get out o' they folks.

EMMA. We'm chapel to our 'ouse, an' 'e didn't forget to let me
see 'e knaw'd it, but A doan't say as it's ony different wi'
chapels, neither. They get what they can outer yo', but yo'
mustn't look for nothin' back, when th' pinch cooms. (_Clock
outside strikes three._) Sakes alive, theer's clock goin' three.
My dinner 'ull be nice an' cold.

SARAH. Eh, what's that, lass? Dost mean to tell me tha's bin
cl