One friend she made who became very dear and of great import. Often she
had looked up at the old windmill on the crest of the ridge and wondered
who inhabited it; for that some one lived in it, or close by, was shown
at times by the drifting smoke. One day she made up her mind to go and
see for herself. She had a fancy not to ask anyone about it. The place
was a little item of mystery; and as such to be treasured and exploited,
and in due course explored. The mill itself was picturesque, and the
detail at closer acquaintance sustained the far-off impression. The
roadway forked on the near side of the mill, reuniting again the further
side, so that the place made a sort of island--mill, out-offices and
garden. As the mill was on the very top of the ridge the garden which
lay seawards was sheltered by the building from the west, and from the
east by a thick hedge of thorn and privet, which quite hid it from the
roadway. Stephen took the lower road. Finding no entrance save a locked
wooden door she followed round to the western side, where the business
side of the mill had been. It was all still now and silent, and that it
had long fallen into disuse was shown by the grey faded look of
everything. Grass, green and luxuriant, grew untrodden between the
cobble-stones with which the yard was paved. There was a sort of old-
world quietude about everything which greatly appealed to Stephen.
Stephen dismounted and walked round the yard admiring everything. She
did not feel as if intruding; for the gateway was wide open.
A low door in the base of the mill tower opened, and a maid appeared, a
demure pretty little thing of sixteen or seventeen years, dressed in a
prim strait dress and an old-fashioned Puritan cap. Seeing a stranger,
she made an ejaculation and drew back hastily. Stephen called out to
her:
'Don't be afraid, little girl! Will you kindly tell me who lives here?'
The answer came with some hesitation:
'Sister Ruth.'
'And who is Sister Ruth?' The question came instinctively and without
premeditation. The maid, embarrassed, held hard to the half-open door
and shifted from foot to foot uneasily.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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