The mill on the floss

I was just sitting here and thinking about the earliest classics that made a huge impression on me, and before anything could flood in, I simply remembered the 'Mill on the floss' by George Eliot. Why do I remember this one in particular, no answer really, perhaps the strange bond that existed between the sky dark beauty who was shunned all her childhood and the cripple who saw her beyond her apparent appearance. Or was it the kind of persistent love she had for him despite the overtures by the other guy? or was it simply the evenings they roamed together in the forests that created a vivid mental image or the way they meet their end?. Whatever the reason I have always loved this particular book.