of course," said Will, shaking hands.

"I thought perhaps you had forgotten me," she said.

Will had flushed to the roots of his hair from nervousness, but he
quickly regained his self-possession. He looked down the side of his
leg and pondered his boot.

"Would that be possible, I wonder?" he said, half aloud.

"I don't see much difficulty," said the girl laughingly.

Will laughed too, and his laugh was always charming, the ice was
broken, and the chat was only disturbed by the Dr.'s hurried good-bye.

"Good-bye, ladies," he said, as he stepped briskly into his gig. "I am
grieved to have to leave you, but that meeting calls. Good-bye, Will,
I shall see you at Llaniago, and you, Miss Vaughan, I hear I am to have
the pleasure of meeting you at Llwynelen." And the Dr. drove off
amongst a flutter of hands and handkerchiefs.

And now Will would have been in a dilemma had not the vicar arrived on
the scene. Again there were many "How do you do's?" and much shaking
of hands, while Will was debating within himself what he should do.

The vicar at once introduced him to each and all of the young ladies,
some of whom would have drawn back in horror had they known that the
young man who addressed them with such sang-froid was the son of a
farmer, and a brother-in-law of a dissenting preacher.

Will knew this obstacle in his path, and was determined to overcome it.
Gwenda Vaughan, he thought, was delightfully easy to get on with, and
their conversation followed on uninterruptedly until they reached the
vicarage door, where they parted, the ladies separating, and Will
staying to bid the vicar good-bye.

"Who on earth was that handsome man, Gwenda?" asked Adela Griffiths
before parting. "I don't know how it is, but you always manage to get
hold of handsome men.

"And nothing ever comes of it," whispered Edith Williams.

"Why, he's Dr. Owen's nephew," said Gwenda; "didn't you hear Dr. Owen
introduce him?"

And she said no more, but carried away with her a distinct impression
of Will's handsome person and charming smile.

* * * * * *

About this time a strange thing happened at Garthowen. It was midday.
Ann had just laid the dinner on the table, and Ebben Owens had lounged
in.

"Well, the threshing will be done soon," said the old man; "Twm is a
capital fellow. Don't know in the world what I should do without him."

"What is that noise?" asked Morva, pushing back her hair to l