t to be just your way."

"Ha-nor do I. If I did I should soon find my mistake out. If
I put my hand out to take anything, my hand is very soon
bitten, I can tell you."

"Then you must mind where you put your hand," said her
father.

Anna was rather indignant that they took the tragedy of her
young married life with such equanimity.

"You love the man right enough," said her father, wrinkling
his forehead in distress. "That's all as counts."

"I do love him, more shame to him," she cried. "I want
to tell him--I've been waiting for four days now to tell
him----" her face began to quiver, the tears came. Her
parents watched her in silence. She did not go on.

"Tell him what?" said her father.

"That we're going to have an infant," she sobbed, "and he's
never, never let me, not once, every time I've come to him, he's
been horrid to me, and I wanted to tell him, I did. And he won't
let me--he's cruel to me."

She sobbed as if her heart would break. Her mother went and
comforted her, put her arms round her, and held her close. Her
father sat with a queer, wrinkled brow, and was rather paler
than usual. His heart went tense with hatred of his
son-in-law.

So that, when the tale was sobbed out, and comfort
administered and tea sipped, and something like calm restored to
the little circle, the thought of Will Brangwen's entry was not
pleasantly entertained.

Tilly was set to watch out for him as he passed by on his way
home. The little party at table heard the woman's servant's
shrill call:

"You've got to come in, Will. Anna's here."

After a few moments, the youth entered.

"Are you stopping?" he asked in his hard, harsh voice.

He seemed like a blade of destruction standing there. She
quivered to tears.

"Sit you down," said Tom Brangwen, "an' take a bit off your
length."

Will Brangwen sat down. He felt something strange in the
atmosphere. He was dark browed, but his eyes had the keen,
intent, sharp look, as if he could only see in the distance;
which was a beauty in him, and which made Anna so angry.

"Why does he always deny me?" she said to herself. "Why is it
nothing to him, what I am?"

And Tom Brangwen, blue-eyed and warm, sat in opposition to
the youth.

"How long are you stopping?" the young husband asked his
wife.

"Not very long," she said.

"Get your tea, lad," said Tom Brangwen. "Are you itchin' to
be off the moment you enter?"

They talked of trivial things. Through the open d