She knew that every day the cloud which hung over her grew blacker and heavier.

Where should she turn when her uncle should discover her secret?
In the solitude of her room she paced backwards and forwards, wringing her hands.
"What will I do?
what will I do?
He said he would return in seven or eight months--a year at furthest.

Will he come?
will he ever come ?" And, gazing out over the stormy sea, she would sob in utter prostration of grief.

Every day she walked to Abersethin and haunted the post-office.

The old postmaster had noticed her wistful looks of disappointment, and seemed to share her anxiety for the arrival of a letter--who from, he did not know for certain, but he made a very good guess, for Valmai's secret was not so much her own only as she imagined it to be.
Her frequent meetings with Cardo, though scarcely noticed at the time, were remembered against her; and her long stay at Fordsea, with the rumour of Cardo's return there, decided the feeling of suspicion which had for some time been floating about.