n the house-porch that looked on the garden
with the sundial on the wall above it, its welcome to that of the June
roses; its dissension with the flavour of the damp weeds that clung to
the time-worn timbers of the water-wheel, or that of the grinding flour
when the wind blew from the mill, and carried with it from the
ventilators some of the cloud that could not help forward the whitening
of the roof. She might almost have been breathing again the air that
carried all these scents; and then, with them, the old mill itself was
suddenly upon her; and she and Phoebe were there, in the shortest waists
ever frockmaker dreamed of, and the deepest sunbonnets possible, with
the largest possible ribbons, very pale yellow to harmonize--as canons
then ruled--with the lilac of their dresses. They were there, they two,
watching the inexhaustible resource of interest to their childish lives;
the consignment of grain to storage in the loft above the whirling
stones, and the dapple-grey horse that was called Mr. Pitt, and the dark
one with the white mane that was Mr. Fox. She could remember _their_
names well; but by some chance all those years of utter change had
effaced that of the carman who slung the sacks on the fall-rope, which
by some mysterious agency bore them up to a landing they vanished from
into a doorway half-way to Heaven. What on earth was that man's name?
Her mind became obsessed with the name Tattenhall, which was entirely
wrong, and, moreover, stood terribly in the way of Muggeridge,
which--you may remember?--was the name Dave had carried away so clearly
from his inspection of the mill on Granny Marrable's chimney-piece.

* * * * *

Her memories of her old home had died away, and she was back in Sapps
Court again, sympathizing with Dolly over an accident to Shockheaded
Peter, the articulation of whose knee-joint had given way, causing his
leg to come off promptly, from lack of integuments and tendons. She had
pointed out to Dolly that it was still open to her, as The Authority,
to hush Peter to sleep as before, his leg being carefully replaced in
position, although without ligatures. Dolly had carried out this
instruction in perfect good faith; but it had not led to a satisfactory
result. It failed owing to the patient's restlessness. "He _will_ tit in
his s'eep, and he tums undone," said the little lady, hard to console.
Oh dear--how soon Dolly would be four, and begin to lose her ear