wers.

'Why not?' said Mrs. Garland.

'He will only have men there except ourselves, will he? And shall we be
right to go alone among 'em?'

Anne had not recovered from the ardent gaze of the gallant York Hussars,
whose voices reached her even now in converse with Loveday.

'La, Anne, how proud you are!' said Widow Garland. 'Why, isn't he our
nearest neighbour and our landlord? and don't he always fetch our faggots
from the wood, and keep us in vegetables for next to nothing?'

'That's true,' said Anne.

'Well, we can't be distant with the man. And if the enemy land next
autumn, as everybody says they will, we shall have quite to depend upon
the miller's waggon and horses. He's our only friend.'

'Yes, so he is,' said Anne. 'And you had better go, mother; and I'll
stay at home. They will be all men; and I don't like going.'

Mrs. Garland reflected. 'Well, if you don't want to go, I don't,' she
said. 'Perhaps, as you are growing up, it would be better to stay at
home this time. Your father was a professional man, certainly.' Having
spoken as a mother, she sighed as a woman.

'Why do you sigh, mother?'

'You are so prim and stiff about everything.'

'Very well--we'll go.'

'O no--I am not sure that we ought. I did not promise, and there will be
no trouble in keeping away.'

Anne apparently did not feel certain of her own opinion, and, instead of
supporting or contradicting, looked thoughtfully down, and abstractedly
brought her hands together on her bosom, till her fingers met tip to tip.

As the day advanced the young woman and her mother became aware that
great preparations were in progress in the miller's wing of the house.
The partitioning between the Lovedays and the Garlands was not very
thorough, consisting in many cases of a simple screwing up of the doors
in the dividing walls; and thus when the mill began any new performances
they proclaimed themselves at once in the more private dwelling. The
smell of Miller Loveday's pipe came down Mrs. Garland's chimney of an
evening with the greatest regularity. Every time that he poked his fire
they knew from the vehemence or deliberateness of the blows the precise
state of his mind; and when he wound his clock on Sunday nights the whirr
of that monitor reminded the widow to wind hers. This transit of noises
was most perfect where Loveday's lobby adjoined Mrs. Garland's pantry;
and Anne, who was occupied for some time in the latter apartment, e