"Yes, beautiful!" answered Will, rather absently.
He was wondering whether all this was a dream—that he, Will Owen of
Garthowen Farm, was sitting here under the palms and exotics with Miss
Gwenda Vaughan of Nantmyny. At last Gwenda rallied him.
"You are dreaming," she said playfully.
"I am afraid I am."
At this moment the rest of the party appeared, and they all returned to the house together.
Will looked at his watch.
"I think I must go," he said. "I have a lecture to attend."
"Well," said his uncle, "we won't detain you from that. Quite right, my boy, never neglect your lectures. I shall see you again to-morrow."
"Now, don't wait for an invitation," said Mrs. Trevor hospitably, "but come and see us as often as you can. Your uncle is quite at home here, and we shall be delighted if you will make yourself so too!"
"I shall only be too glad to avail myself of your kindness."