hee what a fine lass Morva Lloyd has grown thee'st been hankering
after Garthowen slopes."

There was a general laugh, in which Gethin joined good-humouredly,
standing and stretching himself with a yawn. The evening sun fell full
upon him, showing a form of sinewy strength, and a handsome manly face.
His dark skin and the small gold rings in his ears, so much affected by
Welsh sailors, gave him a foreign look, which rather added to the
attractiveness of his personal appearance.

When the tea had been partaken of, with a running accompaniment of
broad jokes and loud laughter, the three sailors went out, leaving
Gethin still sitting on the settle. This was Mrs. Parry's hour of
peace--when her consumptive son came home from his loitering in the
sunshine to join her at her own quiet "cup of tea," while her rough
husband was still engaged amongst the shipping in the docks.

"Well, what'll I say to Nani Graig?" said Gethin.

"Oh, poor mother, my love, and tell her if it wasn't for my boy Tom I'd
soon be home with her again, for I'll never live with John Parry when
my boy is gone."

"He's not going for many a long year," said Gethin, slapping the boy on
the back, his more sensitive nature shrinking from such plain speaking.

But Tom was used to it, and smiled, shuffling uneasily under the slap.

"What you got bulging out in your bag like that?" he asked.

"Oh, presents for them at Garthowen; will I show them to you?" said the
sailor awkwardly, as he untied the mouth of the canvas bag. "Here's a
tie for my father, and a hymn-book for Ann, and here's a knife for
Will, and a pocket-book for Gwilym Morris, the preacher who is lodging
with them. And here," he said, opening a gaily-painted box, "is
something for little Morva," and he gently laid on the table a necklace
of iridescent shells which fell in three graduated rows.

"Oh! there's pretty!" said Mrs. Parry, and while she held the shining
shells in the red of the sun, again the doorway was darkened by the
entrance of two noisy, gaudily-dressed girls, who came flouncing up to
the table.

"Hello! Bella Lewis and Polly Jones, is it you? Where you come from
so early?" said Mrs. Parry.

"Come to see me, of course!" suggested the sailor.

"Come to see you and stop you going," said one of the girls. "Gethin
Owens, you _are_ more of a skulk than I took you for, though you are
rather shirky in your ways, if this is true what I hear about you."

"What?" said Gethin