hbour, frowns over
her china-blare eyes, is silent; then, as his question passes
on, makes a quick little face, wriggles, and looks behind her.

STRANGWAY. Ivy?

IVY. 'Tis a man--whu--whu----

STRANGWAY. Yes?--Connie?

CONNIE. [Who speaks rather thickly, as if she had a permanent slight
cold] Please, Mr. Strangway, 'tis a man what goes to church.

GLADYS. He 'as to be baptised--and confirmed; and--and--buried.

IVY. 'Tis a man whu--whu's gude and----

GLADYS. He don't drink, an' he don't beat his horses, an' he don't
hit back.

MERCY. [Whispering] 'Tisn't your turn. [To STRANGWAY] 'Tis a man
like us.

IVY. I know what Mrs. Strangway said it was, 'cause I asked her
once, before she went away.

STRANGWAY. [Startled] Yes?

IVY. She said it was a man whu forgave everything.

STRANGWAY. Ah!

The note of a cuckoo comes travelling. The girls are gazing at
STRANGWAY, who seems to have gone of into a dream. They begin
to fidget and whisper.

CONNIE. Please, Mr. Strangway, father says if yu hit a man and he
don't hit yu back, he's no gude at all.

MERCY. When Tommy Morse wouldn't fight, us pinched him--he did
squeal! [She giggles] Made me laugh!

STRANGWAY. Did I ever tell you about St. Francis of Assisi?

IVY. [Clasping her hands] No.

STRANGWAY. Well, he was the best Christian, I think, that ever
lived--simply full of love and joy.

IVY. I expect he's dead.

STRANGWAY. About seven hundred years, Ivy.

IVY. [Softly] Oh!

STRANGWAY. Everything to him was brother or sister--the sun and the
moon, and all that was poor and weak and sad, and animals and birds,
so that they even used to follow him about.

MERCY. I know! He had crumbs in his pocket.

STRANGWAY. No; he had love in his eyes.

IVY. 'Tis like about Orpheus, that yu told us.

STRANGWAY. Ah! But St. Francis was a Christian, and Orpheus was a
Pagan.

IVY. Oh!

STRANGWAY. Orpheus drew everything after him with music; St.
Francis by love.

IVY. Perhaps it was the same, really.

STRANGWAY. [looking at his flute] Perhaps it was, Ivy.

GLADYS. Did 'e 'ave a flute like yu?

IVY. The flowers smell sweeter when they 'ear music; they du.

[She holds up the glass of flowers.]

STRANGWAY. [Touching one of the orchis] What's the name of this
one?

[The girls cluster; save MERCY, who is taking a stealthy
interest in what she has behind her.]

CONNIE.