“Ten, miller--ten, if you love me. You would not accuse a simple girl of wasting her time.” “Once again, your pardon, miss. I'll make it nine, if so be that you wish.” “I have no wish in the matter, sir. I'm nought but a simple country wench with no wish but to be let live in peace.” “Tell us how many lads are dangling after you at the present moment, Nell--dangling like mackerel on the streamers?” “How could I possibly tell, sir? Do you suppose that my father knows to a fish how many mackerel are on his cast of streamers at any time? You should have more sense, miller. The most that I can speak for is the five that I angled for.” “The impudence of the girl! She allows that she angled for five!” “Miller, you would not have me treat them like trout and whip for them with a rod and a single hook. Oh, no, sir, that would not be worth the while. You see, miller, there are so many of them swimming about--and--and--well, life is brief.” “'Tis my belief, Nelly, that there's a hook on every hair of your head and a foolish lad wriggling on it.” “You compliment my fishing too highly, sir. If I thought that----” “Well, what would happen if you thought that, madam?” “Oh, well, I believe that I would e'en weave my hair into a reasonable fishing-net to save time and a diffusion of wriggling. There now, miller, we have had said the last word between us of this nonsense. I know what I am, and you know what I am--a healthy, wholesome country wench, that two or three lads think well of, and as many more think ill of--they don't get distraught about me on the one hand, and they don't have any particular enmity of me on the other hand. That's the way with all girls, even such as are black-browed, and hard-voiced, which no one has yet accused me of being, and I've walked seven miles from Porthawn within the two hours to give you my father's message about Rowan's corner, and when I've given it to you, I have to trudge back with a six-pound bag of your best seconds to keep us from starvation for a day or two.” “You'll not trudge back before the morning if I have any say in the matter,” cried the miller's daughter, catching up the other's cloak and throwing it over one arm. “Come hither, Nelly, and we'll have a chat in the parlour, like the well-to-do folk that we be; these men can have this place to themselves till the time comes to lay out supper.” “Supper! what good pixie made you say that word?” cried the other girl. “If you hadn't said it it would have clean gone from my mind that I brought with me a stale fish or two that was left over from our dinner on Sunday week. What a memory I lack, to be sure!” She picked up a rush basket which she had placed on the floor when she was taking off her cloak, and handed it to Susan. “You young rapparee!” said the miller. “Did it not cross your foolish pate that a basket of fish a week old and more is fully capable of betraying its presence without the need for a laboured memory?”