rday,' he said.

'Indeed!' said Anne quite calmly. 'And who is he going to marry?'

'That I don't know,' said John, turning the letter about. 'The woman is
a stranger.'

At this moment the miller entered the office hastily.

'Come, John,' he cried, 'I have been waiting and waiting for that there
letter till I was nigh crazy!'

John briefly explained the news, and when his father had recovered from
his astonishment, taken off his hat, and wiped the exact line where his
forehead joined his hair, he walked with Anne up the street, leaving John
to return alone. The miller was so absorbed in his mental perspective of
Bob's marriage, that he saw nothing of the gaieties they passed through;
and Anne seemed also so much impressed by the same intelligence, that she
crossed before the inn occupied by Festus without showing a recollection
of his presence there.

XIV. LATER IN THE EVENING OF THE SAME DAY

When they reached home the sun was going down. It had already been
noised abroad that miller Loveday had received a letter, and, his cart
having been heard coming up the lane, the population of Overcombe drew
down towards the mill as soon as he had gone indoors--a sudden flash of
brightness from the window showing that he had struck such an early light
as nothing but the immediate deciphering of literature could require.
Letters were matters of public moment, and everybody in the parish had an
interest in the reading of those rare documents; so that when the miller
had placed the candle, slanted himself, and called in Mrs. Garland to
have her opinion on the meaning of any hieroglyphics that he might
encounter in his course, he found that he was to be additionally assisted
by the opinions of the other neighbours, whose persons appeared in the
doorway, partly covering each other like a hand of cards, yet each
showing a large enough piece of himself for identification. To pass the
time while they were arranging themselves, the miller adopted his usual
way of filling up casual intervals, that of snuffing the candle.

'We heard you had got a letter, Maister Loveday,' they said.

'Yes; "Southampton, the twelfth of August, dear father,"' said Loveday;
and they were as silent as relations at the reading of a will. Anne, for
whom the letter had a singular fascination, came in with her mother and
sat down.

Bob stated in his own way that having, since landing, taken into
consideration his father's wish that he shou