it all mean?

He waited, looking down upon her tired eyelids, and at the row of lashes
lying upon each cheek, whose natural roundness showed itself in singular
perfection now that the customary pink had given place to a pale
luminousness caught from the surrounding atmosphere. The dumpy ringlets
about her forehead and behind her poll, which were usually as tight as
springs, had been partially uncoiled by the wildness of her ride, and
hung in split locks over her forehead and neck. John, who, during the
long months of his absence, had lived only to meet her again, was in a
state of ecstatic reverence, and bending down he gently kissed her.

Anne was just becoming conscious.

'O, Mr. Derriman, never, never!' she murmured, sweeping her face with her
hand.

'I thought he was at the bottom of it,' said John.

Anne opened her eyes, and started back from him. 'What is it?' she said
wildly.

'You are ill, my dear Miss Garland,' replied John in trembling anxiety,
and taking her hand.

'I am not ill, I am wearied out!' she said. 'Can't we walk on? How far
are we from Overcombe?'

'About a mile. But tell me, somebody has been hurting you--frightening
you. I know who it was; it was Derriman, and that was his horse. Now do
you tell me all.'

Anne reflected. 'Then if I tell you,' she said, 'will you discuss with
me what I had better do, and not for the present let my mother and your
father know? I don't want to alarm them, and I must not let my affairs
interrupt the business connexion between the mill and the hall that has
gone on for so many years.'

The trumpet-major promised, and Anne told the adventure. His brow
reddened as she went on, and when she had done she said, 'Now you are
angry. Don't do anything dreadful, will you? Remember that this Festus
will most likely succeed his uncle at Oxwell, in spite of present
appearances, and if Bob succeeds at the mill there should be no enmity
between them.'

'That's true. I won't tell Bob. Leave him to me. Where is Derriman
now? On his way home, I suppose. When I have seen you into the house I
will deal with him--quite quietly, so that he shall say nothing about
it.'

'Yes, appeal to him, do! Perhaps he will be better then.'

They walked on together, Loveday seeming to experience much quiet bliss.

'I came to look for you,' he said, 'because of that dear, sweet letter
you wrote.'

'Yes, I did write you a letter,' she admitted, with misgiving, now