as Dinorah, as well as his discordance with the place, and with all that united to form the mood which he disturbed, were extremely unwelcome to me. Half offended, half embarrassed, I was silent, and turned away, that I might not be tempted to say anything rude to him. But Dinorah did not long owe him an answer.
"Go your ways elsewhere, Guiller Three-Tongues," cried she, with a gay and unconstrained laugh. "You are well entitled to the nickname else you never could speak so much arrant nonsense."
"Come, come, girl, give me at least a drink as well," said he conciliatingly, while he saluted me very politely—for he knew me at once, in spite of my turning away.
"Not I, indeed," replied she tartly. "This is only spring-water for good Christians; such as you want fire-water, and that I do not sell; so go your ways."
"My time is thine, child; for it so happens that I am taking this flour to Kerkolleorch."
"Except that portion of it which remains behind sticking to the mill-stones—is it not so, Guiller?"
I could not help laughing at this allusion to the well-known foible of the miller, or rather at the droll, pert way in which the girl brought it out; but the miller turned to me, and said, with a shrug of his shoulders: