Forgotten his father's coldness; forgotten his bare, loveless home; forgotten even the wrangler who was coming to trouble him; and forgotten that nameless shadow of parting and distance, which had hovered too near ever since he had met Valmai.

She loved him, so a fig for all trouble! They had pledged their troth on the edge of the waves, and they thought not of the mysterious, untried sea of life which stretched before them.
Early in the following week Cardo drove to Caer Madoc to meet the mail-coach, which entered the town with many blasts of the horn, and with much flourishing of whip, at five o'clock every evening.

In the yard of the Red Dragon he waited for the arrival of his father's guest.
At the appointed time the coach came rattling round the corner, and, as it drew up on the noisy cobble stones, a pale, thin face emerged from the coach window and looked inquiringly round.
"Mr.Gwynne Ellis, I suppose ?" said Cardo, approaching and helping to tug open the door.
"Yes," said a high but pleasant voice, "and I suppose you are Mr.
Wynne's son," and the two young men shook hands.
They were a complete contrast to each other.

Cardo, tall and square--the new-comer, rather short and thin, but with a frank smile and genial manner which gave a generally pleasant impression.

He wore gold spectacles, and carried a portfolio with all an artist's paraphernalia strapped together.
"Too precious to be trusted amongst the luggage, I suppose," said Cardo.
"You are right! As long as I have my painting materials safe, I can get along anywhere; but without them I am lost." And he busied himself in finding and dragging down his luggage.
In less than ten minutes the two young men had left Caer Madoc behind, and were fast lessening the distance between them and Brynderyn.
"Very kind of you to meet me; and what a splendid horse," said Gwynne Ellis.