e face,
became, the moment that he passed into 'market-merriness,' as frank
and communicative as Sinfi, and (what was more inexplicable) _looked_
as much like Sinfi as he had previously looked like Videy.

'How can I be the subject of their quarrels?' I said, listlessly
enough, for I scarcely at first followed his words.

'How? Ain't you a chap?'

'Undoubtedly, Panuel, I am a chap.'

'When women quarrels there's allus a chap somewheres about, in course
there is. But look ye here, Mr. Aylwin, the fault ain't Sinfi's, not
a bit of it. It's Videy's, wi' her dog-in-the-manger ways. She's a
back-bred un,' he said, giving me a knowing wink as he pulled off his
calf-skin waistcoat and tossed it on to a chair at the further end of
the room with a certainty of aim that would have been marvellous,
even had he been entirely free from market-merriness.

I had before observed that Panuel when market-merry always designated
Videy the 'back-bred un, that took a'ter Shuri's blazin' ole dad!'
When sober his views of heredity changed; the 'back-bred un' was
Sinfi.

After breakfast next morning it was agreed that Panuel and Videy
should walk to the Place to see that everything was going on well,
while Sinfi and I should remain in the bungalow. I observed from the
distance that Videy had loitered behind her father on the Capel Curig
road. I saw a dark shadow of anger pass over Sinfi's face, and I soon
understood what was causing it. The daughter of the well-to-do Panuel
Lovell and my guest was accosting a tourist with, 'Let me tell you
your fortune, my pretty gentleman. Give the poor Gypsy a sixpence for
luck, my gentleman.'

The bungalow delighted Sinfi. 'It's just like a great livin'-waggin,
only more comfortable,' said she.

We spent the entire morning and afternoon there, and much of the next
two days. It certainly seemed to me that her mere presence was an
immense stimulus to memory in vitalising its one image.

'What's the use o' us a-keepin' a-talkin' about Winnie?' Sinfi said
to me one day. 'It on'y makes you fret. You skears me sometimes; for
your eyes are a-gettin' jis' as sad-lookin' as Mr. D'Arcy's eyes, an'
it's all along o' fret-tin'.'

I persuaded her to stay with me while Panuel and Videy went on to
Chester, for she could both soothe and amuse me.

III

Those who might suppose that Sinfi Lovell's lack of education would
be a barrier against our sympathy, know little or nothing of real
sorrow--little or no