"I wanted to see thee, Ivor; we've not had a talk for some time."
"No, I have been too busy."
"And so have I, in my deed," said Hugh. "What between the torn sails of the Albatross—the new boat which is building for me—and a few new things I am getting for my house—well, the time has seemed to fly. What dost think of the new 'coffor' I have bought for Gwladys?" and he opened with pride the doors of a handsome oak wardrobe. "The best piece of work John 'Saer'[[5]] has ever done, I think." The shelves inside were well filled with stores of snowy napery, sheets, and table-cloths, etc., luxuries little known in Mwntseison. "And these drawers at the bottom to keep her clothes! Mari Vone has seen to it all for me."
"A splendid coffor, indeed," said Ivor; "and John Saer knew who he was working for, I think." But then he added a most irrelevant remark, "Poor Mari Vone!"
"What dost mean by that?" said Hugh, flushing a dark red.
"Oh, nothing," said Ivor. "I was only thinking how dull it must be for her to arrange the household for another girl."
"Dull!" said Hugh earnestly, and with a momentary sadness in his voice. "Thou art mistaken, Ivor. Mari Vone knows not what dullness means. She would laugh to hear thy words."
"When art going to be married?"
"Why, on Tuesday," said Hugh; "of course I expect thee to be my teilwr. Pretty Gwennie Hughes and Laissabeth Owen are to be bridesmaids."
"That is what I came down to speak about," said Ivor. "I thought very likely thou wouldst want me to be teilwr."