"Yes, for a minute," he answered. "Where are you going?"
"Just for a drive," she replied. "Come, won't you?" He got in, and she drove on.
"Where were you going?" she asked.
"Why, to the old mill," was his reply. "I wanted a little walk, then a rest."
Ten minutes later they were looking from a window of the mill, out upon the great wheel which had done all the work the past generations had given it to do, and was now dropping into decay as it had long dropped into disuse. Moss had gathered on the great paddles; many of them were broken, and the debris had been carried away by the freshets of spring and the floods of autumn.
They were silent for a time. Presently she looked up at him.
"You're much better to-day, "she said; "better than you've been since— since that night!"
"Oh, I'm all right," he answered; "right as can be." He suddenly turned on her, put his hand upon her arm, and said:
"Come, now, tell me what there was between you and Vanne Castine—once upon a time.
"He was in love with me five years ago," she said.