is, the
assistant--shall I call him? he is very clever with children. Here he
is. Will you go with Miss Powell, to see--h'm--a baby which she is
taking a great interest in on Ynysoer?"

"Yes, certainly," said the young assistant, colouring, for he had heard
Valmai's story, and never having seen her, was now rather bewildered by
her beauty, and the awkwardness of the situation.

"Oh, thank you; can you come at once?" said Valmai.

"At once," said the young man. "Is the child very ill?"

"Indeed, I hope not," said Valmai; "he is very flushed and restless."

"Whose child is it?"

"Good-bye, Mrs. Hughes. It is mine," she added, in a clear voice, as
they left the kitchen door together.

"Wel, anwl, anwl! there's impidence," said one of the servants, looking
after them. "It is mine! As bold as brass. Well, indeed!"

"Yes, I must say," said her mistress, with a sniff, "she might show a
little more shamefacedness about it."

"There's a beauty, she is," said Will the cowman, coming in.

"Beauty, indeed!" said the girl. "A pink and white face like a doll!"

"Her beauty has not done her much good, whatever," said Mrs. Hughes, as
she finished her curds and dried her arms.

Meanwhile Valmai and the doctor were walking rapidly down the lane to
the shore.

"Dan, will you take us across?" said Valmai to a man who stood leaning
against the corner of the Ship Inn.

"With every pleasure, miss fach; you've been out early," he said, as he
pushed out his boat, and, seeing the doctor--"if you please, miss, I
hope there's nobody ill at Nance's?"

"Yes," said Valmai, hesitating, "the little one is ill."

She did not say, "my baby," as she had done at the doctor's. At the
first contact with the world beyond Ynysoer, where she had been so long
secluded and sheltered, a feeling of nervous shyness began to
over-shadow her.

"Dear, dear!" was all Dan's answer,

Once on the island, Mr. Francis found it difficult to keep up with
Valmai's hurrying steps. He was full of pity for the beautiful girl
beside him, so young and so friendless, and was anxious to serve her,
and to cure her child if possible.

As they entered the cottage together, Nance endeavoured gently to
prevent Valmai's approaching the child.

"Not you, my dear, not you; let the doctor see him."

Mr. Francis was already attending to the little sufferer.

"No," he said, looking backwards, "not you, Miss Powell; let me manage
him."

Valmai turned white