He is curate of Llansidan, 'tis about forty miles from here; but Gethin, my eldest son, is a sailor; indeed, I don't know where he is now, but I am longing for him to come home, whatever; and Will does not come often to see me.

He is too busy, I suppose, and 'tis very far." And Gwenda, sensitive and tender, heard a tremble in the old man's voice, and detected the pain and bitterness of his speech.
"Young men," she said, "are so often taken up with their work at first, that they forget their old home, but they generally come back to it, and draw towards it as they grow older; for after all, there is nothing like the old home, and I should think this must have been a nest of comfort indeed." "Well, I don't know.

My two sons are gone over the nest, whatever; but Ann is stopping with me, She is the home-bird." Gwenda thought she had never enjoyed such a tea.

The tea cakes so light, the brown bread so delicious; and Ann, with her quiet manners, made a perfect hostess; so that, when she rose to go, she was as reluctant to leave the old farmhouse as her entertainers were to lose her.
"Indeed, there's sorry I am you must go," said Ebben Owens.

"Will you come again some day ?" "I will," said Gwenda, waving them a last good-bye; and as she rode down the dark lane beyond the farmyard she said to herself, "And I _will_ some day, please God!" Reaching the high road, she hurried down the hill to the valley below, where Castell On lay nestled in the bend of the river.