She thought of the chapel with its gallery thronged with smiling lads and lasses; she thought of Will sitting bolt upright at church.

Yes; decidedly the dullness was depressing; but suddenly a brightening thought struck her.

Why should she not hunt up the old Bible which Ann said was too bad to leave about?
What could Gethin have written in it that was so wicked?
She remembered him only as her friend and companion, and her willing slave.
She was only a child when he left, but she had not forgotten the burst of bitter wailing which she sent after him as he picked up his bundle and tore himself away from her clinging arms, and how she had cried herself to sleep that night by Sara's side, who had tried to pacify her with promises of his speedy return.

But he had never come, and his absence seemed only to have left in his father's memory a sense of injury, as though he himself had not been the cause of his boy's banishment.

Even Ann and Will, who had at first mourned for him, and longed for his return, appeared to have forgotten him, or only to regard his memory as a kind of sorrowful dream.