"Yes," was all her answer, while her head drooped, and she nervously and unconsciously slipped her ring up and down her finger. She seemed suddenly anxious to get away, and, turning hurriedly to the peg on which a coat of Hugh's was hanging, said, "I want it to darn."
The peg was just above her reach, so she sprang a little from the ground, and succeeded in dislodging the coat from its hook, but in doing so caught the wrist-band of her jacket in its place, and hung, with toes just reaching the ground, in a helpless and uncomfortable position, trying with her left hand to loosen the wrist-band from the hook—an object which the weight of her body frustrated. Ivor's first impulse was to rush to her assistance, and every pulse in his body throbbed with the desire once more to hold her in his grasp; but his arms again dropped down, and he turned resolutely to a coil of ropes, and, dragging it within reach of her feet, said:
"Stand on this, Mishtress."
His white set face and his trembling voice were the only signs of the storm that raged within him; but they sufficed to make plain to Gwladys, as well as to the silent watcher behind the half-closed doors of the office, the strong curb which he was placing upon his feelings.
Gwladys stepped off the coil of ropes, stood a moment, trembling and blinded with her tears.
"That nasty hook has shaken thee," said Ivor; and she made no answer, but, stooping to pick up the coat, gulped down a sob which Ivor and Hugh distinctly heard.
"Fforwel, then!" she said, turning back for a moment as she reached the door. "I wish thee well at the mill, Ivor Parry." And she passed out into the night wind.
"Fforwel, Mishtress!" caught her ear as she went.
For a few minutes, Ivor stood with folded arms, looking after her into the darkness, and then sitting down on the bale upon which he had been at work, a great sob shook his frame, too, and it was with a veritable groan of distress that he once more rose and applied himself energetically to his work.
In the darkened office Hugh still sat on; but his head was bowed upon his hands. A feeling of humility, never quite a stranger to his noble heart, tinged the bitter thoughts which occupied the silent half-hour which passed before Ivor Parry extinguished his lamp and left the sail-shed, locking the door behind him. Then Hugh rose, and letting himself out through a small door from his office, walked homeward through the blustering gale which swept up the village road.