over the newspaper, and then got away to the back part of the room.
'And are you and your mother always going to stay down there in the
mill-house watching the little fishes, Miss Anne?'

She said that it was uncertain, in a tone of truthful precision
which the question was hardly worth, looking forcedly at him as she
spoke. But she blushed fitfully, in her arms and hands as much as
in her face. Not that she was overpowered by the great boots,
formidable spurs, and other fierce appliances of his person, as he
imagined; simply she had not been prepared to meet him there.

'I hope you will, I am sure, for my own good,' said he, letting his
eyes linger on the round of her cheek.

Anne became a little more dignified, and her look showed reserve.
But the yeoman on perceiving this went on talking to her in so civil
a way that he irresistibly amused her, though she tried to conceal
all feeling. At a brighter remark of his than usual her mouth
moved, her upper lip playing uncertainly over her white teeth; it
would stay still--no, it would withdraw a little way in a smile;
then it would flutter down again; and so it wavered like a butterfly
in a tender desire to be pleased and smiling, and yet to be also
sedate and composed; to show him that she did not want compliments,
and yet that she was not so cold as to wish to repress any genuine
feeling he might be anxious to utter.

'Shall you want any more reading, Mr. Derriman?' said she,
interrupting the younger man in his remarks. 'If not, I'll go
homeward.'