w where was he? Out on that stormy sea, every moment
increasing the distance between them.

"I will go if you like, uncle, and nurse him until he gets well."

"There's a good gel, indeed; and you will kom back to me again, 'cos I
am used to you now, and you are reading very nice to me, and saving a
great deal of my old eyes. He got a servant," he added, "but she is
only an ole ooman, coming in in the morning and going home in the
evening."

"Oh, yes, I will manage very well," said Valmai.

She grasped at the idea of change of scene and life, hoping it would
help her to regain her peace of mind. So the next day saw her on her
way to Caer Madoc, driven by her uncle in the rickety old gig which had
carried him on his preaching expeditions for years. Along the high
road Malen bore them at a steady trot, and when Valmai took her place
in the coach, and bid her uncle good-bye, she called to mind that only
two days ago Cardo had been its occupant, and her heart was full of
wistful longings. Yes, she felt she was a foolish girl, but she was
always intending to grow into a sensible and useful _wife_; and, with
this virtuous intention in her mind, she tried to banish all vain
regrets, and a serious, composed little look came over her mouth.

Arrived at Fordsea, she sought for her uncle's house, it was in Reuben
Street, she knew, and not far from the docks. Reaching the roadway,
she caught sight of the foaming white waves in the harbour, and
wondered how far the _Burrawalla_ had already got on her way towards
the Antipodes.

"Captain Powell of _The Thisbe_?" said a lounging sailor who was
passing, with his hands in his pockets and his cap very much at the
back of his head. "Yes, miss, Aye knows him well. It's not far from
here, and Ay'll be passing his door. Will Aye carry your bag?"

And, not waiting for an answer, he hoisted it on his shoulder, and
signed to her to follow him. He was right; she had not far to go
before she reached the little, uneven row of houses called Reuben
Street, at one of which an old woman, with bucket and cloth, was
preparing to wash the doorstep.

"Here's the young leddy come," said the sailor, pushing the portmanteau
into the passage.

"Will I pay you something?" said Valmai, nervously fingering her purse.

"Aw naw, nawthin' at all," said the sailor, hurrying away, with a flush
on his face that showed her her hesitation had not been unwarranted.

In fact, Jim Harris considered hi