Gwen made no answer, but angrily pulled away the pocket-handkerchief which covered the little window. She spoke little during the day, and the following morning was at work in the sail-shed, pale and sulky, refusing every offer of help, and receiving the condolences of her neighbours with a silent contempt.
A few days afterwards the Mishteer wrote to Ivor Parry a letter in his round, firm hand, one that Ivor treasured for years, taking it out of his breast-pocket, sometimes, when the curling smoke from his evening pipe carried up in its wreaths thoughts and memories of the sweet and bitter past.
"Come back, mach-geni," it said. "I cannot do without thee. The work calls for thee, my heart calls for thee, and the work-people all desire thy presence. Thou shouldst never have gone! there was no need. No new tie could ever loosen the cords of friendship that exist between thee and me. Nothing has gone well with me since thou art gone. I have had complaints of the work from several quarters. Sweet Gwladys is not well; and, truth to tell, I myself am wanting something, and it must be thee, lad, so come back to Mwntseison, and all will be well." In a postscript he added: "Of course thy pay shall be the same as that thou art receiving now. Indeed, I have raised the wages of all my best workmen."
And Ivor had answered:
"I will come, for I have quite failed to make my home at Carnarvon; and besides, if I can truly be of help to thee, nothing will keep me away. The Aden Ydon goes across next Monday, and I on board; but remember I will take no more pay than I have always had of thee. It was good pay, and I never wanted more; so fforwel till we meet."
Hugh was in good spirits next day, and came homewards at noon waving a letter round his head.
"Good news, Gwladys fâch! Ivor will be here next Monday, or Tuesday, or Wednesday at latest. Everything will be alright now. I feel like a new man," and so absorbed was he with the prospect of his friend's arrival, that he ate his dinner without noticing Gwladys' embarrassment.
"Next week! so soon should she be called upon to bear so much I so much bitterness, and alas! so much joy! But the joy must be smothered—be crushed out, and perhaps it would die some day."
She ate no dinner, and was thankful that Hugh did not notice the fact. From that moment a restless feeling took possession of her, and as the time for the arrival of the Aden Ydon drew nearer, she was consumed with a feverish dread of meeting Ivor.
Mari Vone often dropped in on one pretext or another, and though the subject uppermost in both their minds was never mentioned between them, she always left Gwladys more calm and courageous than when she entered.