"One day in the early spring, about a month before you were born, Caradoc, I had been to a funeral at the old church; and hearing of the serious illness of a parishioner who lived on the high road to Abersethin, I followed the path on the left side of the Berwen, and as I neared the bridge which crosses the valley on the top, I suddenly came upon Agnes, who was sitting on a boulder by the side of the brook, and as I approached I saw her dry her eyes hurriedly. She rose from her seat, and her colour came and went as she looked at me. I longed to take her in my arms and press her to my heart, for she looked pale and sorrowful."
An exclamation from Cardo interrupted him.
"It pains you, Caradoc—it pains me—it pained me then—it will pain me as long as I have any being. I may be forgiven hereafter, but it cannot cease to pain me.
"'Agnes,' I said, 'are you not straying very far from home?'
"'I came for a walk,' she answered; 'it is a lovely day!'
"'I did not know you could walk so far,' I said. 'Last evening when I asked you to come down to the shore with me, you said it was too far!'
"'Yesterday, Meurig, I was feeling very ill; to-day I am better.'
"Her lip quivered a little, and she looked round uneasily, I thought.
"I said, 'I am going to see old Shôn Gweydd, or I would walk back with you; but perhaps you don't mind going alone.'
"'Oh, no, not at all,' she said, as she began her way back by the
Berwen.