With a slow, dragging step Morva walked home on the evening of Will's arrival. He had nodded at her in a nonchalant manner, with a kindly, "Well, Morva!" in passing, just as he had done to Magw and Shan, but further than that had not spoken to her again, though his eyes followed her everywhere as she moved about her household duties.
"Prettier than ever!" he thought. "My word! there is not one of the
Llaniago young ladies fit to tie her shoe!"
As soon as the cows were milked and the short frosty day had ended, the moon rose clear and bright over the Cribserth.
"I am going to see Sara," said Will, taking his hat off the peg in the blue painted passage.
No one was surprised at that, for both Will and Gethin, ever since their mother's death, had been accustomed to run to Sara for sympathy with every pleasure or misfortune, and after being two months away it was quite natural that he should want to see her; so Morva had scarcely rounded the bend of the Cribserth before Will had caught her up. A little shiver ran through her as she recognised the step and the whistle which called her attention. It was Will, whom she once thought she had loved so truly, and the coldness which she had felt towards him of late was strangely mingled with remorse and tender memories as she turned and walked a few steps back to meet him.
"Stop, Morva; let me speak to thee. Give me thy hand, lass. After so long a parting thou canst not deny me a kiss too."
Ah, how sweet it was to return to the dear old Welsh, and the homely "thee" and "thou"!
"Art well, Will? But I need not ask. Indeed, there is life and health in thy very face."
"Yes, I am well," said Will, drawing her towards him. "I am coming with thee to see Sara."
"Yes, come," said Morva.