ttage with her, she was more than my own equal in culture, and
could have held her own with almost any girl of her own age in
England. It was only in her subjection to Cymric superstitions that
she was benighted.

'Winnie,' I murmured, 'what have you to say?'

After a while her eyes seemed to clear of the visions, and she said,

'What changes have come upon us both, Henry. since that childish
betrothal on the sands!'

'Happy changes for one of the child-lovers,' I said--'happy changes
for the one who was then a lonely cripple shut out from all sympathy
save that which the other child-lover could give.'

'And yet you then seemed happy, Henry--happy with Winnie to help you
up the gangways. And how happy Winnie was! But now the child-lover is
a cripple no longer: he is very, very strong--he is so strong that he
could carry Winnie up the gangways in his arms, I think.'

The thrill of natural pride which such recognition of my physical
powers would otherwise have given me was quelled by a something in
the tone in which she spoke.

'And he is powerful in every way,' she went on, as if talking to
herself. 'He is a great rich Englishman to whom (as auntie was never
tired of saying) that childish betrothal must needs seem a dream--a
quaint and pretty dream.'

'And so your aunt said that, Winnie. How far from the truth she was
you see to-night.'

'Yes, she thought you would forget all about me; and yet she could
not have felt quite confident about it, for she made me promise that
if you should not forget me--if you should ever ask me what you have
just asked--she made me promise--'

'What, Winnie? what? She did not make promise that you would refuse
me?'

'That is what she asked me to promise.'

'But you did not.'

'I did not.'

'No, no! you did not, Winnie. My darling refused to make any such
cruel, monstrous promise as that.'

'But I promised her that I would in such an event wait a year--at
least a year--before betrothing myself to you.'

'Shame! shame! What made her do this cruel thing? A year! wait for a
year!'

'She brought forward many reasons, Henry, but upon two of them she
was constantly dwelling.'

'And what were these?'

'Well, the news of the death of your brother Frank of course reached
us in Shire-Carnarvon, and how well I remember hearing my aunt say,
"Henry Aylwin will be one of the wealthiest landowners in England."
And I remember how my heart sank at her words, for I was always
think