Will together.

"One would think 'twas the downward path Will was going," said the
former.

"No, no!" replied the old man, "'tis the path of life I was thinking
of, my children. You don't know it yet, but when you come to my age
perhaps you will understand it," and he sighed again wearily.

He had altered much of late, a continual sadness seemed to have fallen
on his spirit, the old pucker on his forehead was seldom absent now, he
was irritable and ready to take offence, and if not spoken to, would
remain silently brooding in the chimney corner.

On the contrary, Ann's whole nature seemed to have expanded. Her happy
married life drew out the brightness and cheerfulness which perhaps had
been a little lacking in her early girlhood.

Gwilym Morris was an ideal husband; tender and affectionate as a woman,
but withal firm and steady as steel; a strong support in worldly as
well as spiritual affairs. Latterly the extreme narrowness of the
Calvinistic doctrines, which had made his sermons so unlike his daily
practice, had given place to broader views, and a more elevating
realisation of the Creator's love. Many hours he spent with Sara in
her herb garden, on the moor, or sitting by the crackling fire,
conversing on things of spiritual import; and the well-read scholar
confessed that he had learnt much from the simple woman, the keen
perception of whose sensitive soul, had in a great measure separated
her from her kind, and had made her to be avoided as something uncanny
or "hyspis."

And what of Morva? To her, too, time had brought its changes. She was
now two years older, and certainly more than two years wiser, for upon
her clear mind had dawned in unmistakeable characters of light, the
truth, that her relations with Will were wrong. She knew now that she
did not love him--she knew now it would be sinful to marry him, and she
sought only for a way in which she could with the least pain to him,
sever the connection between them. She saw plainly, that Will had
ceased to love her, and she rejoiced at the idea that it would not be
difficult therefore to persuade him to release her from her promise.
When one day she met him on the path to the moor, and he tried as of
old to draw her nearer and imprint a kiss on her lips she started from
him.

"No, Will," she said, "that must not be. You must let me go now. Do
you think I do not see you have changed, that you have ceased to love
me?"

Will noticed at once the