darling," said old Maisie, "we can have it mended."

"Of course we can," said Gwen. "Do let us make it go round. I want to
make it go round, too." Her heart was rejoicing at what seemed so like
revival.

Granny Marrable poured water into what stood for "the sleepy pool above
the dam," and found the key to wind up the clockwork. "I remember," said
old Maisie, "the water first, and then the key!" Her face was as happy
as Dave's had been, watching it.

But alas for the uncertainty of all things human!--machinery
particularly. The key ran back as fast as it was wound up, and the water
slept on above the dam. What a disappointment! "Oh dear," said Gwen,
"it's gone wrong. Couldn't we find a man in the village who could set it
right, though it _is_ Sunday?" No--certainly not at eight o'clock in the
evening.

"I fear, my lady," said Granny Marrable, "that it was injured when the
little boy Toby aimed a chestnut at it. And had I known of the damage
done, I should have allowed him no sugar in his tea. But it may have
been Toft, when he repaired the glass, for indeed he is little better
than a heathen." She examined it and tried the key again. It was
hopeless.

"Never mind, Phoebe dearest! I would have loved to see the millwheel
turn again, as it did in the old days. Now we must wait for it to be put
to rights. I shall see it one day." If she felt that she was sinking,
she did not show it. She went on speaking at intervals. "Let me lie here
and look at it.... Yes, put the candle near.... That was the deep hole,
below the wheel, where the fish leapt.... Father would not allow us
near it, for the danger.... There were steps up, and so many nettles....
Then above we got to the big pool where the alders were ... where the
herons came...." A pause; then:--"Phoebe dearest!..."

"What, darling?"

"I was not mad.... You were not here, or you would have known me....
Would you not?"

"I would have known you, Maisie dearest--I would have known you, in
time. Not at the first. But when I came to think of it, would I have
dared to say the word?"

Gwen remembered this answer of old Phoebe's later, and saw its
reasonableness. She only saw the practical side at the moment. "Why,
Granny," she said--"if it hadn't been the mill, it would have been
something else."

"But I was not mad," Maisie continued. "Only I must have frightened my
Ruth.... I went up _there_ once, Phoebe. Barnaby took me up one day...."

"Up where, Mrs. Picture dear