"When do you start from Brynderyn?" she asked, her voice growing lower and more sorrowful.
"At two o'clock, love, punctually; the cart has already gone with my luggage. Valmai, how can I part from you—how can I leave you, my beloved, my wife?"
"Oh, Cardo, Cardo!" was all her answer. She buried her face in her hands, and the tears trickled through her fingers.
Cardo drew them away tenderly.
"There is a tear on your ring, dear," he said, kissing it, "that must not be; let that at all events be the emblem of meeting and happiness and joy. Think, Valmai, only a year, and I shall come and claim you for my own! Confess, dearest, that it is a little solace that we are united before we are parted, that, whatever happens, you are my wife and I am your husband."
"Yes, indeed; indeed, it is my only solace, and I am going to be brave and hopeful. My ring I must not wear on my finger; but see, I have brought a white satin ribbon to tie it round my neck; it shall always be there until you take it off, and place it on my finger again."
"And you will keep our secret until I return, darling?"
"Yes," said Valmai impressively, "until you come back, Cardo, and give me leave to reveal it."
"We must part, fanwylyd; my father must not miss me."
"No, no—go, I will not keep you back."