and run to the
window. The sun was really breaking out; the sound of the mill seemed
cheerful again; the granary doors were open; and there was Yap, the
queer white-and-brown terrier, with one ear turned back, trotting about
and sniffing vaguely, as if he were in search of a companion. It was
irresistible.

Maggie tossed her hair back and ran downstairs, seized her bonnet
without putting it on, peeped, and then dashed along the passage lest
she should encounter her mother, and was quickly out in the yard,
whirling around like a Pythoness, and singing as she whirled, "Yap, Yap,
Tom's coming home!" while Yap danced and barked round her, as much as to
say, if there was any noise wanted he was the dog for it.

"Hegh, hegh, Miss! you'll make yourself giddy, an' tumble down i' the
dirt," said Luke, the head miller, a tall, broad-shouldered man of
forty, black-haired, subdued by a general mealiness, like an auricula.

Maggie paused in her whirling and said, staggering a little, "Oh no, it
doesn't make me giddy, Luke; may I go into the mill with you?"

Maggie loved to linger in the great spaces of the mill, and often came
out with her black hair powdered to a soft whiteness that made her dark
eyes flash out with new fire. The resolute din, the unresting motion of
the great stones, giving her a dim, delicious awe as at the presence of
an uncontrollable force; the meal forever pouring, pouring; the fine
white powder softening all surfaces, and making the very spider-nets
look like a fairy lace-work; the sweet, pure scent of the meal,--all
helped to make Maggie feel that the mill was a little world apart from
her outside everyday life. She was in the habit of taking this
recreation as she conversed with Luke, to whom she was very
communicative, wishing him to think well of her understanding, as her
father did.

Perhaps she felt it necessary to recover her position with him on the
present occasion, for, as she sat sliding on the heap of grain near
which he was busying himself, she said, at that shrill pitch which was
requisite in mill-society,--

"I think you never read any book but the Bible, did you, Luke?"

"Nay, Miss, an' not much o' that," said Luke, with great frankness. "I'm
no reader, I aren't."

"But if I lent you one of my books, Luke? I've got many _very_ pretty
books that would be easy for you to read; but there's 'Pug's Tour of
Europe,'--that would tell you all about the different sorts of people in
the worl