Ann's hand shook as she poured out the tea.
"Father bâch!" she said tenderly, looking at him with eyes in which the tears welled up.
"Oh! don't you vex about me," said the old man. "I must bear my punishment like everyone else; 'twill not be so hard as I deserve."
"I must not let my feelings influence me in this matter," said Gwilym, "though you know, father, how it breaks my heart."
And he held his shapely hand across the table and grasped the old man's warmly.
"Yes, yes, 'tis all right; you must do your duty, only I would like it to be over soon. Gwae fi! that it could be next Sunday."
"Well, I will give it out at the prayer-meeting tonight if you like, and have a special meeting next Sunday."
"Yes," said Ebben Owens, "the sooner I am turned out the better. I am quite prepared. Perhaps they will take me back again some day, though I was pretty hard upon Gryffy Lewis when he got drunk, and would not agree to his being taken back again for months, when the other deacons were quite ready to forgive him. Well, well! I must live a good many years yet to repent of all my bad ways, and you must have patience with me, my little children."
"Well, next Sunday it shall be then," answered the preacher; "and may
God turn the bitter to sweet for you, father bâch."
"Oh, it will be all right for me!" said the old man again, and sitting under the big chimney after tea, Tudor and Gwil both leaning on his knees, the old peace and content seemed in some measure to have returned to him.