oint into a comparatively broad valley, bordered with higher
hills as it widened in the distance. The light still shewed its
entrancing beauty; wooded, and spotted with houses and habitations of
all kinds; from the very humble to the very lordly, and from the
business factories of to-day, back to the ruined strongholds of the
time when war was business. Wide and delicious the view was, as much as
it was unexpected; and spring's softened colouring was all over it.
Eleanor made a pause of a few seconds as soon as all this burst upon
her; her next thought was to look for the church. And it was plain to
see; a small dark edifice, in excellent keeping with its situation;
because of its colour and its simple structure, which half merged it
among the rocks and the hills.

"That is the church, John?" Eleanor said to Mrs. Caxton's factotum.

"That is it, ma'am. There's been no minister there for a good piece of
the year back."

"And what place is this?"

"There's no _place_, to call it, ma'am. It's the valley of Glanog."

Eleanor jumped off her pony and went into the church. She had walked
her pony too much; it was late; the service had begun; and Eleanor was
taken with a sudden tremor at hearing the voice that was reading the
hymn. She had no need to look to see whose it was. She walked up the
aisle, seeking a vacant place to sit down, and exceedingly desirous to
find it, for she was conscious that she was right under the preacher's
eye and observation; but as one never does well what one does in
confusion, she overlooked one or two chances that offered, and did not
get a seat till she was far forward, in the place of fullest view for
both seeing and being seen. And there she sat down, asking herself what
should make her tremble so. Why had her aunt Caxton sent her that
evening, alone, to hear Mr. Rhys preach? And why not? what was there
about it? She was very glad, she knew, to hear him; but there would be
no more apathy or languor in her mind now on the subject of that
question her aunt had desired her to settle. No more. The very sound of
that speaker's voice woke her conscience to a sharp sense of what she
had been about all these months since she had heard it last. She bent
her head in her hand for a little while, in a rushing of thoughts--or
ideas--that prevented her senses from acting; then the words the people
were singing around her made their entrance into her ear; an entrance
opened by the sweet melody. The word