VI


Annunziata, seeking him to announce that supper was ready, found John,
seated in his chamber of dead ladies, his arms folded, his legs crossed,
his eyes fixed, a frown upon his prone brow; his spirit apparently rapt
in a brown study.

"Eh! Prospero!" she called.

Whereat he came to himself glanced up, glanced round, changed his
posture, and finally, rising, blew his preoccupations from him in a
deep, deep sigh.

"Oh, what a sigh!" marvelled Annunziata, making big eyes. "What are you
sighing so hard for?"

John looked at her, and smiled.

"Sighing for my miller's daughter, my dear," he said.

And, as he followed her to the presbytery, he sang softly to himself--

_"It is the miller's daughter,
And she is grown so dear, so dear,
That I would be the jewel
That trembles in her ear."_