Forty sovereigns, mother! Will he ever come back and clear it up ?" "Some day it will be plain, but now we must be satisfied to know it was not Gethin." "No one else will believe us, mother." "Oh! I am used to that," said the old woman, with a patient smile; "that makes no difference in God's plans.

Thou must pluck up thy heart, and have courage, child, for there is a long life before thee.
A dark cloud is shading thy path now, but 'twill pass away, and thou wilt be happy again." "Never! unless Gethin comes back to clear his name.

Oh! 'tis a cold grey world.

Only here with you, mother, is the comfort of love.

When I draw near the cottage I look out for your red mantle, and if I see it, it sends a warm glow through me." And so they talked until, as the twilight gathered round them, Morva said: "I must go; the cows must be milked.