of his chair to take himself away to his
bed, he turned his forehead to her to be kissed, as he did to that
better daughter who had needed no forgiveness from him. Nevertheless,
they who knew him,--and there were none who knew him better than
Fanny did,--were aware that he never for a moment forgot the disgrace
which had fallen upon his household. He had forgiven the sinner, but
the shame of the sin was always on him; and he carried himself as a
man who was bound to hide himself from the eyes of his neighbours
because there had come upon him a misfortune which made it fit that
he should live in retirement.

Sam took up his abode in the house, and worked daily in the mill,
and for weeks nothing was said either of his going away or of his
return. He would talk to his sisters of the manner in which he had
worked among the machinery of the Durham mine at which he had found
employment; but he said nothing for awhile of the cause which had
taken him north, or of his purpose of remaining where he was. He ate
and drank in the house, and from time to time his father paid him
small sums as wages. At last, sitting one evening after the work of
the day was done, he spoke out his mind. "Father," said he, "I'm
about minded to get me a wife." His mother and sisters were all there
and heard the proposition made.

"And who is the girl as is to have thee, Sam?" asked his mother.

As Sam did not answer at once, Carry replied for him. "Who should it
be, mother;--but only Agnes Pope?"

"It ain't that 'un?" said the miller, surlily.

"And why shouldn't it be that 'un, father? It is that 'un, and no
other. If she be not liked here, why, we'll just go further, and
perhaps not fare worse."

There was nothing to be said against poor Agnes Pope,--only this,
that she had been in Trumbull's house on the night of the murder, and
had for awhile been suspected by the police of having communicated
to her lover the tidings of the farmer's box of money. Evil things
had of course been said of her then, but the words spoken of her had
been proved to be untrue. She had been taken from the farmer's house
into that of the Vicar,--who had, indeed, been somewhat abused by
the Puddlehamites for harbouring her; but as the belief in Sam's
guilt had gradually been abandoned, so, of course, had the ground
disappeared for supposing that poor Agnes had had ought to do in
bringing about the murder of her late master. For two days the miller
was very gloomy, and