"Yes, I am a very ignorant woman, I know, but a week or a fortnight, or even three weeks, I will stop," and the usual look of happy content once more beamed in her eyes.
Every day little Tom Jenkins, upon whom Sara's two pennies had made a favourable impression, went down to the docks to see if the _Gwenllian_ had arrived.

When a week, a fortnight, and nearly three weeks had passed away, and still she was not in port, Mrs.Jones suggested that probably she had extended her voyage to some other port, or was perhaps waiting for repairs.
At last one sunny morning Tom Jenkins came in with a whoop.
"The _Gwenllian_ is in the docks!" he cried, and Sara prepared at once for another expedition in that direction.
"Wait a bit," said Mrs.Jones.

"You can write, Sara ?" "Yes, in Welsh," said the old woman.
"Well, then, send a letter, and Tom will take it for you." Sara took her advice, and, putting on her spectacles, wrote as follows: "Sara Lloyd, Garthowen Moor, is writing to thee, Gethin Owens, to say she is here at Mrs.Jones's, No.

2 Bryn Street, with good news for thee.

All the way from Garthowen to fetch thee, my boy, so come as soon as thou canst." The writing was large and sprawly, it was addressed to "Gethin Owens, mate of the _Gwenllian_,--Captain Price," and when Tom had departed, with the letter safe in his jacket pocket, the two women set themselves to wait as patiently as they could; but the hours dragged on heavily until tea-time.
"Gethin was fond of his tea," said Mrs.Jones, "and I wouldn't wonder if he'd be here before long." The tea table was laid, the cakes were toasted the tea brewing was delayed for some time.