"Right," said Hugh; but he shook his head as he went away.
Later on in the evening, as Madlen was preparing supper under the big open chimney in the kitchen, a step disturbed her.
"Who's that?" she said snappishly, for the uwd[[2]] was at the point of boiling. "Oh, Ivor Parry!"
"Yes," he answered, walking in unceremoniously. "I wanted to see the Mishteer."
"Wel wyr! didst expect to see him here? He is up with Gwladys Price, of course. Howyer bach![[3]] There's going to be changes! I tell thee, Ivor Parry, he's perfectly mad about the girl. Wel, dwla dwl yw dwl hên!"[[4]]
"Will he come to his supper?"
"Most likely not; not even potatoes and buttermilk will bring him home now."
But her prognostications were false to-night, for at that moment Hugh entered, bright and breezy.
"Hello, Ivor! just in time for supper, 'mach-geni; sit down. Art better?"
"Oh, all right," he said, sitting down to the table, on which Madlen placed the smoking "uwd" with a large jug of milk. In every other cottage in Mwntseison wooden bowls and wooden spoons would have been used, but the Mishteer's table was graced by blue-rimmed basins and silver spoons.