did not leave her with the postman's departure.
She opened the envelope, kissed its contents, put away the letter in her
pocket, and remained musing till her eyes filled with tears.

A few minutes later she carried up a cup of tea to Mrs. Harnham in her
bed-chamber. Anna's mistress looked at her, and said: 'How dismal you
seem this morning, Anna. What's the matter?'

'I'm not dismal, I'm glad; only I--' She stopped to stifle a sob.

'Well?'

'I've got a letter--and what good is it to me, if I can't read a word in
it!'

'Why, I'll read it, child, if necessary.'

'But this is from somebody--I don't want anybody to read it but myself!'
Anna murmured.

'I shall not tell anybody. Is it from that young man?'

'I think so.' Anna slowly produced the letter, saying: 'Then will you
read it to me, ma'am?'

This was the secret of Anna's embarrassment and flutterings. She could
neither read nor write. She had grown up under the care of an aunt by
marriage, at one of the lonely hamlets on the Great Mid-Wessex Plain
where, even in days of national education, there had been no school
within a distance of two miles. Her aunt was an ignorant woman; there
had been nobody to investigate Anna's circumstances, nobody to care about
her learning the rudiments; though, as often in such cases, she had been
well fed and clothed and not unkindly treated. Since she had come to
live at Melchester with Mrs. Harnham, the latter, who took a kindly
interest in the girl, had taught her to speak correctly, in which
accomplishment Anna showed considerable readiness, as is not unusual with
the illiterate; and soon became quite fluent in the use of her mistress's
phraseology. Mrs. Harnham also insisted upon her getting a spelling and
copy book, and beginning to practise in these. Anna was slower in this
branch of her education, and meanwhile here was the letter.

Edith Harnham's large dark eyes expressed some interest in the contents,
though, in her character of mere interpreter, she threw into her tone as
much as she could of mechanical passiveness. She read the short epistle
on to its concluding sentence, which idly requested Anna to send him a
tender answer.

'Now--you'll do it for me, won't you, dear mistress?' said Anna eagerly.
'And you'll do it as well as ever you can, please? Because I couldn't
bear him to think I am not able to do it myself. I should sink into the
earth with shame if he knew that!'

From some words in th