"Come, cheer up, lass, 'twill soon be over. A year or two and I will have a home for thee—I know I will. And now good-bye, I hear footsteps. Good-bye, Morva."
He clasped her once to his heart, and whispered a word of endearment in her ear; but she stood like a statue, and only answered "Good-bye," and even that he did not hear, for he had already slipped away, and by a circuitous path reached the house.
Crossing the farmyard, Gethin's approaching footsteps made but little sound on the soft stubble; and Morva, thinking herself quite alone, stood leaning just within the doorway, crying softly in the darkness, for the flaring candle had gone out.
"Who is there?" said Gethin.
There was no answer, Morva checking her sobs, and standing perfectly still.
"Morva, is it thee crying here by thyself? What is it? Tell me, child."
"Oh! nothing," said the girl. "Only Will has been here."
"Oh! I see," said Gethin bitterly, "to bid thee fforwel, I suppose. Well, it won't be for long; he will be back soon, and then thou wilt be happy, Morva."
"Gethin, thee must promise me one thing."
"And what is that?" he said.