g interesting in those dog-eared old books."

"Dog-eared? But they are indeed," she said, laughing. "But how do you
know? They may be gold and leather, and spic and span from the
bookseller's, for all you know."

"No, I have seen them, and have seen you reading them."

"Seen me reading them? How? Where?"

"Last night I was under the elder bushes, and saw you reading to your
uncle. I watched you for a long time."

Valmai was silent.

"You are not vexed with me for that?"

She was still silent; a tumult of happy thoughts filled her mind. He
had found his way to Dinas! He had thought it worth while to stand
under the night sky and watch her! It was a pleasant idea, and,
thinking of it, she did not speak.

"Tell me, Valmai, have I offended you?"

"Offended me? Oh, no; why should you? But indeed it was very foolish
of you, whatever. If you had come in and listened to the reading it
would be better, perhaps," she said laughingly.

"If I had come in, what would your uncle have said? He would have been
very angry."

"Well, indeed, yes; I was forgetting that. He is very hospitable, and
glad to see anybody who comes in to supper; but I don't think," she
added, with a more serious air, "that he would be glad to see you. He
hates the Church and everything belonging to it."

"Yes. How wearisome all this bigotry is. My father hates the chapels
and all belonging to them."

"Perhaps you and I will begin to hate each other soon," said Valmai, as
they reached the boulders through which the Berwen trickled.

It was absolutely necessary that Cardo should help her over the
slippery stones, and with her hand in his she stepped carefully over
the broad stream, subsiding into quietness as it reached the sea. At
last she was safely over, and as he reluctantly dropped her hand he
returned to the subject of conversation.

"Will we hate each other?"

Again there was no answer, and again Cardo looked down at Valmai as he
pressed his question.

She had taken off her hat, and was walking with her golden head exposed
to the cool night breezes. It drooped a little as she answered his
persistent questioning.

"No, I think," she said, with her quaint Welsh accent.

"No, I think, too," said Cardo; "why should we? Let us leave the
hatred and malice and all uncharitableness to our elders; for you and
me, down here on the sands and by the banks of the Berwen, there need
be nothing but content and--and friendship."