eet.

When she reached Dinas, Gwen was already laying the dinner in the
little parlour.

"You have been a long time," she said. "Where have you been? To the
post again to-day? You never used to go to the post, Valmai."

The girl did not answer, but sat down breathless on the sofa.

"Where is uncle? I have a letter for him." And as she spoke her uncle
entered.

"A letter for me? Well, indeed! What can it be?"

Essec Powell's correspondence was very limited; he hated writing, and
never answered a letter which could possibly be ignored. He adjusted
his spectacles, and after turning the envelope in every direction,
opened it.

"Reuben Street, Fordsea," he began. "Oh, dear, dear! here's writing!
Caton pawb! I could write better myself. Read it, Valmai."

And she obeyed.

"REV. ESSEC POWELL,

"DEAR SIR,--I am grieve more than words can say to tell you this sad
news, and I hope you will prepare for the worst. Becos your brother,
Captain John Powell, No. 8 Reuben Street, Fordsea, was drownded
yesterday in the harbour, and I have loast the best frind ever I had
and ever I will have. Please to tell Miss Powell the sad news, and
please to tell her that Captain Powell was oleways talking great deal
about her, and was missing her very much. Oh, we shall never see
nobody like him again. He went out in a small boat with two frinds to
the steamer Penelope, Captain Parley, and coming back the boat was
capsize and the three gentlemen was upset in the water. One was saved,
but Captain Powell and Mr. Jones was drownded. Please to come and see
about the funeral as soon as you can.

"I remain in great sorrow,

"Yours truly,

"JAMES HARRIS."

Valmai's trembling voice failed, and letting the letter drop, she
covered her face with her hands and burst into a flood of tears, as she
realised that her best friend had slipped away from her. In the
trouble and anxiety which had latterly clouded her life, she had often
been comforted by the thought that at all events there was one warm
heart and home open to her, but now all was lost, and her loneliness
and friendlessness pressed heavily upon her. Sob after sob shook her
whole frame.

Essec Powell picked up the letter, and read it again.

"Well, well," he said, "to think that John, my brother, should go
before me! Poor fellow, bach! To be taken so suddenly and unprepared
as he was."

"Oh, no, uncle," said Valmai, between her sobs, "he was not unpr