I was only see 'Powell, Dinas.' I am sorry, miss, fach; but you must cheer up," he added, seeing the gathering tears; "it's never so dark that the Lord can't clear it up." "No," said Valmai, rising from her seat.

"Thank you; good-bye." And, blinded by her tears, she passed out into the driving wind and sleet.

Perhaps the letter bore some news of Cardo! Perhaps bad news, for it had a black edge! She drew her red cloak tightly around her and once more bravely faced the buffeting wind which swept the path before her, and with fitful gusts threatened to lift her off her feet.
When she reached Dinas, Gwen was already laying the dinner in the little parlour.
"You have been a long time," she said.

"Where have you been?
To the post again to-day?
You never used to go to the post, Valmai." The girl did not answer, but sat down breathless on the sofa.
"Where is uncle?
I have a letter for him." And as she spoke her uncle entered.
"A letter for me?
Well, indeed! What can it be ?" Essec Powell's correspondence was very limited; he hated writing, and never answered a letter which could possibly be ignored.

He adjusted his spectacles, and after turning the envelope in every direction, opened it.
"Reuben Street, Fordsea," he began.