Her uncle had heard from Gwen of her drenched condition on the night of the storm, but had already forgotten the circumstance, and only recalled it when he missed her active help in some arrangement of his heavy books.
"How did you get wet, merch i ?" "Coming over the Rock Bridge I was, uncle.

I had been to see Nance, and the storm increased so much when I was there that when I returned the waves washed right over the bridge." "Well, to be sure! Now on the next page you will find a splendid description of such a storm; go on, my girl," and Valmai continued the reading.
Meanwhile, Cardo, after a good night's rest, was no whit the worse for his battle with the storm; but he was full of fears lest Valmai's more delicate frame should suffer.

He rose with the dawn and made his way over the dewy grass across the valley, and into the field where Essec Powell's cows were just awaking and clumsily rising from their night's sleep under the quiet stars.

The storm had disappeared as suddenly as it had arisen, and all nature was rejoicing in the birth of a new day.
Gwen was already approaching with pail and milking stool as he crossed the field through which a path led to Abersethin.

She dropped a bob curtsey and proceeded to settle her pail under "Corwen" and to seat herself on her low stool.
"Your young mistress got very wet last night ?" said Cardo, in an inquiring tone.
"Yes, Ser, did you see her ?" "Yes--I was crossing the bridge at the same time.