The night wind sighed in the chimney, the owls hooted, and the sea whispered its mysterious secrets on the shore below.

The candle burnt low in its socket, and Morva replaced it with another, for she would not be left in the dark with this silent unconscious being, much as she loved her.
Sometimes she ventured upon a gentle appeal, "Mother fach!" but no answer came from the closed lips, and again she waited while the night hours passed on.
"Where is her spirit wandering, I wonder ?" thought the girl, setting her untaught and inexperienced mind to work upon the fathomless mystery.

"Perhaps in the land which we roam in our dreams.

'Tis pity she cannot remember; 'tis pity she cannot tell me about it, for, oh, I would like to know." But to-night, at all events, it seemed there was to be no elucidation of this enigma of life.

The night hours dragged on slowly, and still Sara slept on, until in the pale dawn Morva gently opened the door and looked out towards the east, where a rosy light was beginning to flush the clear blue of a cloudless sky.