orthy to be Valmai's pet. What a picture for Ellis to
paint! Valmai and Corwen. By Jove, I'll try to manage it."

Gwynne Ellis was delighted when Cardo broached the subject as they
roamed over the cliff in the moonlight.

"Can you paint animals and--er--er--human beings as well as you can
scenery, Ellis?"

"Not quite, perhaps, but still pretty well. You liked that sketch of
'The priest and the girl at the confessional,' didn't you?"

"Yes--very much. Well, now, what do you say to a pretty white cow and
her mistress?"

"Oh! 'a pretty girl milking her cow'--a charming subject. Show it me,
Cardo--not Betto, now--you don't mean Betto? though, 'pon my word, I
have seen her look very picturesque on the milking stool."

"No, no, no! Caton pawb! man, I'll show you a prettier picture than
that. She's a lovely creature! with brown velvet eyes, her forehead
all covered with little round curls."

"What! a friz?"

"Well, if you like to call it so. Lovely ears and a little soft nose,
the whole surmounted by a pair of short brown horns."

"Good heavens! the woman?"

"Why, no! the cow, of course!"

"Oh, I see; the friz and the brown eyes belong to a cow then,--but what
of her mistress? My dear fellow, don't waste all your poetry on the
cow."

"As I haven't much to spare, you think. Well, her mistress
is--Valmai!" and Cardo lifted his hat as he spoke.

Gwynne Ellis took two or three long puffs at his pipe, and looked
curiously at Cardo, who stood looking over at the glimmering light in
one of the windows at Dinas.

"Cardo Wynne, I am beginning to understand you; I have mistaken the
whole situation. Here have I been thinking myself the only man in the
place capable of appreciating its beauties properly--the only poetic
and artistic temperament amongst you all--and I gradually awake to find
myself but a humdrum, commonplace man of the world, who has dropped
into a nest of sweet things: earth, sea, and sky combining to form
pictures of beauty; picturesque rural life; an interesting and
mysterious host; an idyllic cow; a friend who, though unable, or
perhaps unwilling, to express his enthusiasm, yet thoroughly feels the
poetry of life; and, better than all, I find myself in close touch with
a real romantic love affair! Now, don't deny it, my dear fellow; I see
it all--I read it in your eyes--I know all about it. The pretty cow's
lovely mistress; and her name is--Valmai! How tender! My Welsh is
rather rust