while you read the
paper--I will go at once. I did not see that I was interrupting you.'
And she rose as if to retreat.

'No, no! I would rather be interrupted by _you_ than--O, Miss Garland,
excuse me! I'll just speak to father in the mill, now I am here.'

It is scarcely necessary to state that Anne (whose unquestionable
gentility amid somewhat homely surroundings has been many times insisted
on in the course of this history) was usually the reverse of a woman with
a coming-on disposition; but, whether from pique at his manner, or from
wilful adherence to a course rashly resolved on, or from coquettish
maliciousness in reaction from long depression, or from any other
thing,--so it was that she would not let him go.

'Trumpet-major,' she said, recalling him.

'Yes?' he replied timidly.

'The bow of my cap-ribbon has come untied, has it not?' She turned and
fixed her bewitching glance upon him.

The bow was just over her forehead, or, more precisely, at the point
where the organ of comparison merges in that of benevolence, according to
the phrenological theory of Gall. John, thus brought to, endeavoured to
look at the bow in a skimming, duck-and-drake fashion, so as to avoid
dipping his own glance as far as to the plane of his interrogator's eyes.
'It is untied,' he said, drawing back a little.

She came nearer, and asked, 'Will you tie it for me, please?'

As there was no help for it, he nerved himself and assented. As her head
only reached to his fourth button she necessarily looked up for his
convenience, and John began fumbling at the bow. Try as he would it was
impossible to touch the ribbon without getting his finger tips mixed with
the curls of her forehead.

'Your hand shakes--ah! you have been walking fast,' she said.

'Yes--yes.'

'Have you almost done it?' She inquiringly directed her gaze upward
through his fingers.

'No--not yet,' he faltered in a warm sweat of emotion, his heart going
like a flail.

'Then be quick, please.'

'Yes, I will, Miss Garland! B-B-Bob is a very good fel--'

'Not that man's name to me!' she interrupted.

John was silent instantly, and nothing was to be heard but the rustling
of the ribbon; till his hands once more blundered among the curls, and
then touched her forehead.

'O good God!' ejaculated the trumpet-major in a whisper, turning away
hastily to the corner-cupboard, and resting his face upon his hand.

'What's the matter, John?' said she.

'I