ow!'

'Yes. Some persons wear them to the elbow, I hear.'

'Do they? I was not aware of that. I struck my elbow last week so hard
against the door of my aunt's mansion that I feel the ache now.'

Before they were quite overwhelmed by the interest of this discourse, the
miller and Bob came in. In truth, Mrs. Garland found the office in which
he had placed her--that of introducing a strange woman to a house which
was not the widow's own--a rather awkward one, and yet almost a
necessity. There was no woman belonging to the house except that
wondrous compendium of usefulness, the intermittent maid-servant, whom
Loveday had, for appearances, borrowed from Mrs. Garland, and Mrs.
Garland was in the habit of borrowing from the girl's mother. And as for
the demi-woman David, he had been informed as peremptorily as Pharaoh's
baker that the office of housemaid and bedmaker was taken from him, and
would be given to this girl till the wedding was over, and Bob's wife
took the management into her own hands.

They all sat down to high tea, Anne and her mother included, and the
captain sitting next to Miss Johnson. Anne had put a brave face upon the
matter--outwardly, at least--and seemed in a fair way of subduing any
lingering sentiment which Bob's return had revived. During the evening,
and while they still sat over the meal, John came down on a hurried
visit, as he had promised, ostensibly on purpose to be introduced to his
intended sister-in-law, but much more to get a word and a smile from his
beloved Anne. Before they saw him, they heard the trumpet-major's smart
step coming round the corner of the house, and in a moment his form
darkened the door. As it was Sunday, he appeared in his full-dress laced
coat, white waistcoat and breeches, and towering plume, the latter of
which he instantly lowered, as much from necessity as good manners, the
beam in the mill-house ceiling having a tendency to smash and ruin all
such head-gear without warning.

'John, we've been hoping you would come down,' said the miller, 'and so
we have kept the tay about on purpose. Draw up, and speak to Mrs.
Matilda Johnson. . . . Ma'am, this is Robert's brother.'

'Your humble servant, ma'am,' said the trumpet-major gallantly.

As it was getting dusk in the low, small-paned room, he instinctively
moved towards Miss Johnson as he spoke, who sat with her back to the
window. He had no sooner noticed her features than his helmet nearly
fell fro