Chapter 28

⁠​​​‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​​‌⁠On the fifth morning, or rather afternoon, a different step approached—lighter and shorter; and, this time, the person entered the room. It was Zillah; donned in her scarlet shawl, with a black silk bonnet on her head, and a willow-basket swung to her arm.

“Eh, dear! Mrs. Dean!” she exclaimed. “Well! there is a talk about you at Gimmerton. I never thought but you were sunk in the Blackhorse marsh,