k he will."

"Never, my boy, never," said Lewis, rubbing his hands gleefully. "I
expect we shall have some exciting times down there, Nellie?"

"Yes; there will be one thing missing, and that will be dear Agnes."

"It will always be a mystery to me," said Lewis Wynne, "how I missed
your father's letter, although certainly I was roaming about a good
deal at the time, and afterwards never hearing my brother's name from
Dr. Hughes, who wrote occasionally, I naturally thought he was still
keeping up his unaccountable anger against me; and the busy life of an
Australian station soon occupied my life entirely; but, hurrah! for old
Cymry now. We'll go back and make it all right, Cardo."

And in less than a month from this time, a very bright and cheerful
party went on board the fast sailing steamer _Wellingtonia_. Mr. and
Mrs. Wynne especially were full of life and spirits.

Dr. Belton went on board with them, and when the last good-byes were
said, he declared that Cardo's leaving would cause a great blank in his
life, as not only had he been greatly interested in the young man as "a
case," but he had also grown much attached to him as a friend.

The bell rang, the gangway was raised, and the _Wellingtonia_ moved
from the side of the quay; and when at last they had fairly bid
good-bye to Australia, they turned to look at each other, and to
realise that another leaf in the book of life had been turned over.

Cardo was full of the brightest hopes, but shaded by anxiety, for he
knew now that two whole years had passed away since he bade good-bye to
Valmai on the quay at Fordsea. What had been her fate since then? How
had she borne his long and unexplained absence and silence? And as he
paced up and down the deck he was full of troubled thought, as well as
of bright hopes and anticipations.

"She must think me dead, but she will soon hear; in another week she
will receive my letter, and, oh! I will make up to her in the future
for all she may have suffered. Valmai, my darling! I am coming back
to you, to kiss away your tears, and to shield you from every trouble
in the future!"

CHAPTER XVII.

HOME AGAIN.

A cold, biting, north wind blew over Abersethin one morning in
November, the sea tossed and tumbled its sand-stained waves in the bay,
the wind carrying large lumps of yellow foam far up over the beach, and
even to the village street, where the "Vicare du" was making a
difficult progress towards the po