She had already opened the door of the best kitchen.

"There is no fire in the parlour," she apologised, "or I would take you there." "Oh, no; please let me come to your usual sitting-room.

Is this your father ?" And she held out her hand again.

There was something in her face that always ensured its own welcome.
"Yes, I am Ebben Owens," said the old man, "and very glad to see you, though I not know who you are." "I am Gwenda Vaughan of Nantmyny, come to ask if you will let me rest awhile.

I have been out with the fox-hounds; we have had a long run, and I am so tired." She had no other excuse to give for her inroad upon their hearth; but in Wales no excuse is required for a call.
"Well, indeed," said the old man, rubbing his knees with pleasure, "there's a good thing now, you come just in time for tea.