should you miss me? It is not very lively here, so perhaps even I
might be missed a little."

Valmai did not answer; she looked out to the horizon where the blue of
the sky joined the blue of the sea, and the white breakers glinted in
the sunshine.

"Yes," she said presently, "I will be sorry when you go, and where are
you going to? Far away? To England, perhaps?"

"To Australia," replied Cardo.

"Australia! Oh! then you will never come back to Traeth Berwen!"

"Indeed, indeed I will, Miss Powell--you laugh at that--well--may I say
Valmai, then?"

"Yes; why not? Everyone is calling me Valmai, even Shoni our servant."

"I may venture, then; and will you call me Cardo?"

"Yes, indeed; Cardo Wynne. Cardo Wynne, everybody is calling you that,
too--even the little children in the village; I have heard them say,
'Here is Cardo Wynne coming!' See, here is the path to Dinas, I must
say good-bye."

"Can't we have another walk along the beach? Remember, I, too, have no
one to talk to!"

"Oh, anwl, no! I must hurry home and get the tea for the preachers."

"And then back to the meeting on the hillside?"

"No; the meeting is in the chapel to-night."

"But when it is over you will come back along the shore?"

"Indeed, I don't know. Good-bye," she said, as she began her way up
the rugged homeward path.

When Cardo reached home, he found his father sitting at the tea-table.
The old parlour looked gloomy and dark, the bright afternoon sun,
shining through the creepers which obscured the window, threw a green
light over the table and the rigid, pale face of the Vicar.

"You are late Cardo; where have you been?"

"In the long meadow, sir, where I could hear some of the preaching
going on below, and afterwards on the beach; it is a glorious
afternoon. Oh! father, I wish you would come out and breathe the fresh
air; it cannot be good for you to be always in your study poring over
those musty old books."

"My books are not musty, and I like to spend my time according to my
own ideas of what is fit and proper, and I should not think it either
to be craning my neck over a hedge to listen to a parcel of Methodist
preachers--"

"Well, I only heard one, Price Merthyr I think they call him. He was--"

"Cardo!" said his father severely, "when I want any information on the
subject I will ask for it; I want you to set Dye and Ebben on to the
draining of that field to-morrow--"

"Parc y waun?"

"Yes; Parc y wa