the preacher. "For one
thing he has a wonderfully retentive memory. Of course it is useless
to pretend that I should not have been better pleased if he had
remained a member of 'the old body'; but, wherever he is, I shall be
very grateful if the small seeds I have sown are allowed to bear the
blossom and fruit of a useful Christian life."

"Yes, yes! just so, exactly so!" said the vicar; "but having chosen the
Church of his own free will, I am very anxious he should get on well
and be an honour to her."

He held out his silver snuff-box towards the preacher, who declined the
luxury, but Ebben Owens accepted it with evident appreciation.

"There is one thing," said the vicar, turning to Will, "which I think
very necessary for your advancement. You must make your uncle's
acquaintance. Dr. Owen is a personal friend of the bishop's, and they
say no one to whom he is unfriendly gets on in the Church."

"I hope he is not unfriendly to me," said Will, tossing his hair off
his forehead. "I have never troubled him in any way, or claimed his
acquaintance."

"Have you never spoken to him?"

"Only as a child," said Will haughtily. "He has not been here for a
long time, and when he came I did not see him for I was not at home."

As a matter of fact Will had been ploughing on the mountain-side when
the Dr. had honoured his brother with a call. He was beginning to be
ashamed of the farm work and kept it out of sight as much as possible.

"Well, well!" said his father apologetically, "we are three miles from
Castell On, you see, and it is uphill all the way, and Davy my brother,
never comes to the town except to some service in the church, and so I
can't expect him to spend his time coming out here."

"No, no, perhaps not! He is a very busy man," said the vicar, who was
never known willingly to hurt anyone's feelings or to speak a
disparaging word of an absent person. "Well, now, he is coming to
lunch with me on Friday on his way to the archidiaconal meetings at
Caer-Madoc, and I want you to come too."

"He won't like it, perhaps," said Will, "and I should be sorry to force
my company upon him."

"Oh! you have no reason to think that," said the vicar. "I think when
he has seen you he will like you; anyway, I hope you will come."

"Of course, Will, of course," said Ebben Owens. "He'll come, sir,
right enough."

"You are very kind, sir," said Will, slowly and reluctantly. "I would
give the world if it could be