A little shiver ran through her as she recognised the step and the whistle which called her attention.

It was Will, whom she once thought she had loved so truly, and the coldness which she had felt towards him of late was strangely mingled with remorse and tender memories as she turned and walked a few steps back to meet him.
"Stop, Morva; let me speak to thee.

Give me thy hand, lass.

After so long a parting thou canst not deny me a kiss too." Ah, how sweet it was to return to the dear old Welsh, and the homely "thee" and "thou"! "Art well, Will?
But I need not ask.

Indeed, there is life and health in thy very face." "Yes, I am well," said Will, drawing her towards him.