Sometimes I wish I were. There's something to be said for pining on the moors. I think.
Seriously, everyone who's falling in love, daydreams... 
Setting: A country house in Shropshire.
Young Elizabeth, her face flushed red with excitement, comes running in through the kitchen door. She is disheveled from "frolicking" on the moors with Joe, the gardener's boy, and two young billy-goats. Joe was just about to introduce a feisty Shetland pony to the menagerie when Elizabeth suddenly realized that she was late for tea with a friend and relunctantly hastened away. As she passes through the kitchen, Elizabeth hastily smooths the front of her dress, and frantically brushes at it, but tell-tale grass stains still remain. Elizabeth enters the parlour, where the dearest friend of her childhood, Deedee, is knitting a colorful shawl for the oppressed children of Africa as she waits.
Elizabeth (striking a demure expression): Ah, Deedee, I am sorry to keep you waiting, but I am afraid I felt unwell.
Deedee (with an alarmed look): What is the matter, dear? How flushed you are! Did you fall?
Elizabeth: It is my beloved Thomas, Deedee. When I am near him, my heart beats so fast I fear it should burst. And when he is away, I can do nothing but think of him. I am worried that he will not return to me. I cannot eat. I cannot sleep. I thought I should take a turn in the garden to calm myself before you arrived, but I was so overcome as I walked that I swooned away beneath the great oak.
Deedee (looking even more alarmed): Bessie dear, you must not yield yourself to such fancies, you have not the constitution to bear it. You will be married to Thomas soon enough. And he is only in the city for a day. Of course, he will return. (a moment passes) Oh, child, you look so thin.
Elizabeth (with a demure look): I try not to yield to such fancies, but Joe is so hard.
Deedee: Joe?
Elizabeth (looking slightly worried): Did I say Joe? I meant "IT is so hard."
Deedee: Poor child, you are not yourself. You should take yourself to bed immediately. I shall leave this instant and call on Doctor Smith for you on my way home.
Elizabeth (a greedy look flashes across her face): I shall take myself to bed, but pray do not trouble the doctor on my account. I shall be much better in the morning.
Deedee: If you insist, Bessie. Now I must away. We must not tire you out when you suffer so from lovesickness.
Elizabeth (forlornly): Goodbye, dear Deedee.
Cut to Deedee trudging up a country lane looking worried. Then cut to Elizabeth, Joe, a shetland pony, and two billy-goats "frolicking" in the twilight.
