I suppose we sha'n't see much more of him." "Perhaps not." "But 'tis Morva I'm thinking of, Sara; how does she bear it?
She is hiding her grief from you--she loved him, I know she loved him! and for him to turn from her and give his love to another must have been a cruel grief to her." "Gethin," said the old woman, "she never loved him.

She promised to marry him when she was a child, before she knew what love meant, but since she has grown up her heart has been refusing to keep the promise which bound her to Will.

She has tried over and over again to get her freedom; like those poor birds we see caught in the net sometimes, she has fluttered and fluttered, but all in vain; and when the letter came from Will to Garthowen telling his father of the wonderful marriage that was coming so near, 'twas as if someone had broken the net and let the bird go free.

And there's Morva now, happy and bright like she was before she found out that her promise to Will was galling her sore.
'Tis only one thing she wants now, Gethin.

'Tis for Garthowen to be happy, and that will never be till thou art home once more.