"I am sure," said Gwladys, raising her brown eyes to his; "I have no lover to wait for me——"
Ivor's eyes trembled as he answered:
"Thee canst not be sure of that, Gwladys; perhaps thee hast one who hides his love from thee?"
"Wel, indeed," she said laughing, "he succeeds in hiding it completely then, for I know of none; but I think my mother will wonder where I am, and Nance will come and look for her laver weed."
Ivor did not speak, but, taking up their oars, they were soon silently cleaving the waves, and drawing near the shore again. The night air swept by them, loosening the girl's hair, which streamed back on the wind, and sometimes, as Ivor bent to the oar, it swept across his face, and for a moment he was tempted with one hand to press it to his lips, while with the other he still handled his oar.
Gwladys looked round. "I thought something pulled my hair?"
"Perhaps!" said Ivor; "who knows? On a night like this the mermaids and mermen come out, and may be one might like to touch thy hair."
Gwladys flushed in the darkness. She was sure it was Ivor's hand that had touched her, and it woke a thrill of happiness within her, an emotion which, however, she instantly smothered.
"He is playing with me," she said, "and he means no more than the sea breeze means when it touches my hair." And they rowed on again in silence, until they reached the strand on one side of the harbour.
"Wilt come another night, Gwladys?"