she dropped down among these. She had thrown off her hat, and
Mr. Falkirk stopped and unfastened her mantle, and softly
began to pull off one of her gloves; the miller's daughter, a
fair, plump, yellow-haired damsel, coming out from among the
grain bins, began upon the other.

'What's happened here?' said she, pityingly.

'Have you anything this lady could eat?' was the counter-
question. 'She is exhausted; fire in the woods drove us out of
the way.'

'Do tell! I heard say the woods was all afire. Why there's
enough in the house, but it ain't here. We live up the hill a
ways. I'll start and fetch something--only say what. O here's
this, if she's fainted.'--And producing a very amulet-looking
bottle of salts, suspended round her neck by a blue ribband,
she at once administered a pretty powerful whiff. With great
suddenness Wych Hazel laid hold of the little smelling bottle,
opening her brown eyes to their fullest extent and exclaiming:

'What in the world are you all about!'

'Ah!' said Mr. Falkirk. 'Get what you can my good girl; only
don't stand about it. Can you give her a glass of milk? or a
cup of tea?'

The girl left them and sprang away up the path at a rate that
showed her good will, followed by Rollo. Arrived at the
miller's house, which proved a poor little affair, the cup of