me when the things that have been dark become plain."
She felt no surprise as the scenes and events of the recent past were
unfolded to her. She understood now why Gethin had gone away so
suddenly and mysteriously. Morva's love for him she saw with clear
insight, and, above all, the cause of Ebben Owens's increasing gloom.
How simple all was now, and how happy was she in the prospect of
helping them all.
"Mother," asked Morva again one evening, as they walked in the garden
together, "there is one question I would like to ask you again, but
somehow I am afraid. Who stole the money at Garthowen?"
"Don't ask me that question, 'merch i. Time will unfold it all. 'Tis
very plain who took it, and I wonder we didn't see it before; but leave
it now, child. I don't know how, but soon it will be cleared up, and
the sun will shine again. Ask me no more questions, Morva, and every
day will bring its own revealment."
"I will ask nothing more, mother. Let us go in and boil the bwdran for
supper."
At the early milking next morning Ebben Owens himself came into the
farmyard. He stooped a good deal, and, when Morva rallied him on his
sober looks, sighed heavily, as he stood watching the frothing milk in
her pail.
"See what a pailful of milk Daisy has, 'n'wncwl Ebben! Yesterday
Roberts the drover from Castell On passed through the yard when I was
milking, and oh, there's praising her he was! 'Would Ebben Owens sell
her, d'ye think?' he asked, and he patted her side; but Daisy didn't
like it, and she nearly kicked my pail over. 'Sell her!' I said.
'What for would 'n'wncwl Ebben sell the best cow in his herd? No, no,'
said I. 'Show us one as good as her, and 'tis buying he'll be, and not
selling.'"
"Lol! lol!" said the old man; "thee mustn't be too sure, girl. I am
getting old and not fit to manage the farm. I wouldn't care much if I
sold everything and went to live in a cottage."
"'Twt, twt," said Morva, "you will never leave old Garthowen, and
'twill be long before Roberts the drover takes Daisy away. Go and see
mother, 'n'wncwl Ebben; she is full of good news for you. She says
there is brightness coming for you, and indeed, indeed _she knows_."
"Yes, she knows a good deal, but she doesn't know everything, Morva.
No, no," he said, turning away, "she doesn't know everything."
CHAPTER XIX
THE "SCIET"
"Art going to chapel to-night, Morva?" said Ebben Owens on the
following Sunday afternoon
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