“David,” I said suddenly, “you are not yourself, is anything wrong?”
“No, my dear, I have been in and out of these cottages a great deal, and have been rather saddened,” then with a smile, “I did miss the little lad, ’tis quite ridiculous.”
He moved away to do something at the other end of the room; he looked worn and fagged, not unhappy. I never saw him with quite that expression, but wearied. I could not tell him yet, but I must speak, or my face would betray me.
“How nice the old place looks?” I said.
“Ah! yes; does it not? You would appreciate it after the ugly coal country; but, after all, Owen is working wonders by the mine—turning out heaps of money, and making the whole thing snug and safe.”
“Yes,” I said.
“Can you stay with me to-night? Gwladys. I must go to Ffynon to-morrow, and I will bring you back then—”
“I will stay,” I said.
“I would ask you to give me two or three days; but am afraid of this unwholesome atmosphere for you.”
“Oh! I must get back to-morrow,” I said.