in spite of his innocence. Fanny, however, had always
persisted that the goodness of the Lord would save him and them from
such injustice. To the old man himself they had hardly dared to talk
about it, but now they strove to win him to some softness. Might not
a struggle be made to bring Sam back to the mill? But it was very
hard to soften the miller. "After what's come and gone, the lad is
better away," he said, at last. "I didn't think as he'd ever raised
his hand again an old man," he said, shortly afterwards; "but he's
kep' company with them as did. It's a'most as bad." Beyond this
the miller would not go; but, when they separated for the night,
the mother took herself for awhile into the daughter's chamber in
order that they might weep and rejoice together. It was now all but
midsummer, and the evenings were long and sultry. The window of
Fanny's bedroom looked out on to the garden of the mill, and was but
a foot or two above the ground. This ground had once been pleasant to
them all, and profitable withal. Of late, since the miller had become
old, and Sam had grown to be too restive and self-willed to act
as desired for the general welfare of the family, but little of
pleasure, or profit either, had been forthcoming from the patch
of ground. There were a few cabbages there, and rows of untended
gooseberry and currant bushes, and down towards the orchard there was
a patch of potatoes; but no one took pride now in the garden. As for
Fanny, if she could provide that there should always be a sufficient
meal on the table for her father and mother, it was as much as she
could do. The days were clean gone by in which she had had time and
spirits to tend her roses, pinks, and pansies. Now she sat at the
open window with her mother, and with bated breath they spoke of the
daughter and sister that was lost to them.

"He wouldn't take it amiss, mother, if I was to go over to
Salisbury?"

"If you was to ask him, Fan, he'd bid you not," said the mother.

"But I wouldn't ask him. I wouldn't tell him till I was back. She
was to be before the magistrates to-day. Mr. Fenwick told me so on
Sunday."

"It will about be the death of her."

"I don't know, mother. She's bolder now, mother, I fear, than what
she was in old days. And she was always sprightly,--speaking up to
the quality, with no fear like. Maybe it was what she said that got
them to let Sam go. She was never a coward, such as me."

"Oh, Fan, if she'd only a taken