"Caton pawb!" he said, "a lady, and Morva is bringing her."
Ann hastened to the front door, and Morva led the horse away, knowing well that she was leaving the visitor in hospitable hands.
"I am Miss Vaughan of Nantmyny! I have been out hunting today, and on the top of the hill I felt so tired that I made up my mind to call here and ask if you would let me rest awhile."
"Oh, certainly! Come in," said Ann, holding out her hand, which Gwenda took warmly.
"Miss Owen, I suppose?"
"I was Ann Owens," she said, blushing. "I am Mrs. Gwilym Morris now these three years. This is my little boy," she added, as a chubby, curly-headed child toddled towards her. She had already opened the door of the best kitchen. "There is no fire in the parlour," she apologised, "or I would take you there."
"Oh, no; please let me come to your usual sitting-room. Is this your father?"
And she held out her hand again. There was something in her face that always ensured its own welcome.
"Yes, I am Ebben Owens," said the old man, "and very glad to see you, though I not know who you are."
"I am Gwenda Vaughan of Nantmyny, come to ask if you will let me rest awhile. I have been out with the fox-hounds; we have had a long run, and I am so tired."