Berwen gurgling and lisping below, as though there were no breaking
hearts in the world!

On the brow of the hill they saw the lights of Brynderyn.

"I will get out here," he said; "you need not drive down these rough
roads; I shall enjoy the walk." And as he paid his fare, the driver
wondered "what had come to Mr. Cardo Wynne, who was used to be such a
jolly young man! That voyage to Owstrallia done him no good whatever!"
And as he turned his carriage round, he muttered to himself, with a
shake of his head, "I heard some odd story about him and that purty
young niece of Essec Powell's the preacher."

Arrived at Brynderyn, Cardo found his father and uncle and aunt seated
round a blazing fire in the old parlour, which had not looked so
cheerful for years. They had been recalling old memories and events of
the past, and when Cardo's footsteps were heard in the passage, they
turned with expectant eyes towards the door. When he entered the room,
pushing his fingers through his hair as was his habit, he was silent
and grave.

"Well, well!" said the whole party at once, "have you found Valmai?"

"Yes, father, I have found my wife," he answered, in measured and
serious tones; "but she is unforgiving, and refuses to have anything
more to say to me. In fact, I have heard from her own lips that she no
longer loves me! There is nothing more to be said. I have come back
to my old home, to work again on the farm, to try to pick up the
threads of my past life, and to make your life happier for my presence."

"Cardo, my dear boy," said the old man, rising as if in reverence for
his son's grief, "is this possible? I do indeed feel for you."

"Oh, nonsense," said Lewis Wynne, "it is only a lover's quarrel; you
will make it up before long. I will go to the girl, and make it all
right for you."

"If you wish to do me a kindness, uncle, and you, too, dear aunt, you
will never mention the subject to me or to anyone else. It is a thing
of the past; let us bury it out of sight and hearing."

"We will do what you wish, my dear boy; but I am afraid, amongst these
gossiping villagers, you will often hear the subject alluded to in joke
or in earnest."

"Oh! I quite expect that," said Cardo, with an attempt at a laugh, but
it was a sorry attempt. "I am not going to play the _role_ of a
love-sick swain, my grief will be buried too deep for a careless touch
to reach it, and I hope I shall not forget I am a man. I have also