, between which wound in flowing
curves the well-kept drive leading to the high road.

"You had better ring for the lights, Gwladys," said the elder lady, as
she settled herself to what she called "five minutes' snooze," a
slumber which generally lasted till dinner-time.

"There is a carriage coming down the drive; what can it be, auntie?"
But auntie was already in dreamland, and Gwladys stood still at the
window watching with curiosity the vehicle which drew nearer and nearer.

"The fly from the Red Dragon at Monmouth! who can it be?" and her blue
eyes opened wide as she saw alighting from it a girl in a quiet black
travelling dress. "She's young and has golden hair like mine--a
dressmaker, probably, for one of the servants, but she would scarcely
come to the front door."

Before she had time to conjecture further, the door was opened by a
servant man, who seemed rather flustered as the visitor entered
quickly, unannounced. She had merely asked him, "Miss Gwladys Powell
lives here?" and, receiving an answer in the affirmative, had walked
into the hall and followed the puzzled man to the drawing-room door.

As she entered the room in the dim twilight, Gwladys stood still with
astonishment, while William so far forgot himself as to stand
open-mouthed with his hand on the door-handle, until Gwladys said, "The
lamps, William," when he disappeared suddenly.

The visitor stood for one moment frightened and doubtful.

"I am Valmai," she said, approaching Gwladys with her hands extended.

"Valmai?" said Gwladys, taking both the offered hands. "I don't know
the name--but--surely, surely, we are sisters! You are my twin-sister.
Oh, I have heard the old story, and have longed for and dreamt of this
meeting all my life," and in a moment the two girls were clasped to
each other's hearts.

Gwladys seemed more unnerved by the meeting than Valmai, for she
trembled with eagerness as she drew the new-comer nearer to the window,
where the evening light shone upon the fresh pure face, so completely
the image of her own, that both were impelled over and over again to
renew their embraces, and to cling closely together.

When William entered with the lights, they were seated on the sofa with
clasped hands, and arms thrown round each other's necks.

"Please, m'm, is the carriage to go or to stay?"

"Oh, to go--to go, of course," said Gwladys, rising to her feet.

"I have paid him," said Valmai; "but I couldn't be sure, you