, for lo! against the brown hill across
the valley she saw the blue smoke rise from Sara's thatched chimney,
and in another moment a patch of scarlet showed bright against the
golden furze.

"Mother anwl! Dear mother! you have come!"

And she was folded in the tender loving arms.

"My little daughter! I have missed thee!" said Sara, and together they
entered the cottage.

Supper was on the table, and the crock of porridge hung over the
blazing furze fire on the hearth.

"They called me into Penlau," said Sara, "as I passed through the yard,
and made me bring this oatmeal, 'for thee'lt want something quick for
thy supper,' they said; and there's asking questions they were about
what I had seen in Cardiff. Let us have our bwdran, child, for oh! I
am tired of the white bread, and the meat, and the puddings they have
in the towns. Kitty Jones was very kind, making all sorts of dainties
for me, but 'tis bwdran and porridge and cawl and bacon is the fittest
food for human beings after all, and the nicest."

"Oh, mother, tell me what you have seen?"

"My little girl, 'twill take many days to tell thee all. Ladies in
silks and satins--carriages and horses sparkling in the sun--men
playing such beautiful music through shining brass horns--little
children dressed up like the dolls you see at the fairs--fruit of every
kind--grand houses and gay streets--but oh, Morva, nothing like the
moor when the gorse and heather are in blossom, nothing like the sea
and the rocks and the beautiful sky at night when the stars are
shining; you couldn't see it, Morva, because of the lamps and the
smoke."

"And the moon, mother, did you see her there?"

"Well, yes, indeed, she was there, but she was not looking so clear and
so silvery as she is here. No, no, Morva, I thank God I have lived on
the moor, and I pray Him to let me die here."

Morva was longing to ask whether success had crowned her mother's
mysterious journey, but refrained from doing so with a nervous shyness
which did not generally mark her intercourse with Sara.

"'Twas a long journey; mother; are you glad you took it?"

"Why, yes, child, of course, since I've gained my object. Gethin Owens
will be home before long."

A crimson tide of joy rushed up into Morva's face, and an embarrassment
which she turned away to hide, but which was not lost upon Sara.

"Well, indeed, then," said the girl, "there's glad 'n'wncwl Ebben will
be. Will I go and tell him when I