re
silent and deserted.

At noontide, too, Valmai had regained her composure, and had risen from
her attitude of despair with a pale face and eyes which still showed
traces of their storm of tears.

Next day she bade her faithful Nance good-bye, leaving with her a
promise to write as soon as she was settled in some place that she
could call "home," and to return for a few days in the spring.

Arrived at Caer Madoc, she took her place in the coach in which she had
journeyed a year before; and reaching the station at Blaennos, soon
arrived at Fordsea. Leaving her luggage at the station, she made her
way into the well-remembered town. There was the white-flashing
harbour, here was the crooked Reuben Street, and here the dear little
house once occupied by her uncle, where she and Cardo had spent their
happy honeymoon. Yes, she remembered it all; but she held her head up
bravely, and crushed down every tender memory, hardening her heart, and
setting herself to attend to the business of the hour.

In the broad High Street she easily found the shining brass plate which
bore the words, "Mr. William Lloyd, Solicitor," and she entered the
office with as business-like an air as she could assume.

"Can I see Mr. William Lloyd himself?"

"You see him, madam; I am he," said a middle-aged, pleasant-faced man,
who met her in the doorway. "I was just going out, but if your
business is not likely to keep us long--"

"I don't think so," said Valmai. "I am the niece of Captain Powell,
who used to live in Reuben Street. He once told me you were his
lawyer, and I have heard that in his will he has left me some money."

"Bless me! You are his niece Valmai! Of course. I have been
wondering when you would turn up, and was really beginning to think I
must advertise for you. I have written to your uncle at Abersethin,
but have had no reply."

"He never writes if he can help it. I am very ignorant of money
matters and business ways," said Valmai, as Mr. Lloyd handed her a
chair, "but would like to know in plain words how much my dear uncle
has left me, as I am leaving this part of the country to-morrow."

"Not going out of England, I suppose?" said the lawyer.

"No, oh no; not even out of Wales."

"Well, I have your uncle's will here, and I can read it to you at once."

"No, indeed," said Valmai, "I don't think I want to hear it read. I
know from dear Uncle John's perfect faith in you that I can trust you.
If you will