inting up a steep side-street
with his whip; "and yonder's the river," waving it in the opposite
direction.

Anna turned her head quickly, and caught a hurried glimpse of a grey
tower on one side, and a thin white streak in the distant, low-lying
meadows on the other.

"And here's the new bank," continued Mr Oswald, with some pride, as
they passed a tall, red brick building which seemed to stare the other
houses out of countenance; "and the house inside the double white gates
is Dr Hunt's."

"I suppose you know Dornton very well?" Anna said as he paused.

"Been here, man and boy, a matter of forty years--leastways, in the
neighbourhood," replied the farmer.

"Then you know where Mr Goodwin lives, I suppose?" said Anna.

"Which of 'em?" said the farmer. "There's Mr Goodwin, the baker; and
Mr Goodwin, the organist at Saint Mary's."

"Oh, the organist," said Anna.

"To be sure I do. He lives in Number 4 Back Row. You can't see it from
here; it's an ancient part of Dornton, in between High Street and Market
Street. He's been here a sight of years--every one knows Mr Goodwin--
he's as well known as the parish church is."

Anna felt pleased to hear that. It convinced her that her grandfather
must be an important person, although Back Row did not sound a very
important place.

"How fast your horse goes," she said, by way of continuing the
conversation, for, after her long silence in the train, it was quite
pleasant to talk to somebody.

"Ah, steps out, doesn't she?" said the farmer, with a gratified chuckle.
"You won't beat her for pace _this_ side of the county. She was bred
at Leas Farm, and she's a credit to it."

They were now clear of the town, and had turned off the dusty high-road
into a lane, with high hedges on either side.

"Oh, how pretty!" cried Anna.

She could see over these hedges, across the straggling wreaths of
dog-roses and clematis, to the meadows on either hand, where the tall
grass, sprinkled with silvery ox-eyed daisies, stood ready for hay.
Beyond these again came the deep brown of some ploughed land, and now
and then bits of upland pasture, with cows and sheep feeding. The river
Dorn, which Mr Oswald had pointed out from the town, wound its zigzag
course along the valley, which they were now leaving behind them. As
they mounted a steep hill, Molly had considerably slackened her speed,
so that Anna could look about at her ease and observe all this.

"What a beautiful place t