“I expect no one, but hope that she may be a messenger of good, not of evil; a harbinger of comfort, and not the bearer of bad tidings and thus increase our affliction and sorrow. Our cup of grief is already full and overflowing.”
As the carriage approached nearer to the villa, the children saw that its occupant was clad in deep mourning, and that she resembled some one whom they well knew, but whom they could not at the moment recollect. Presently, the carriage was driven up to the door, and the lady inquired of the orphans if the house was called Bryn Villa, and if they were the children of Mr. and Mrs. Wynn.
“I am, madam, their son,” replied Cadwgan, “and this is my sister Gwenfan.”
“May I presume to ask the name of the lady who takes care of you?”
“We have no one taking care of us, madam,” replied Gwenfan. “I look after my brother, and he looks after me.”
“But have you no one with you,—no grown up person in charge of the house, and in charge of its management?”
“We have only a maid-servant in the house, ma’am,” answered the brother; “and she has been with us since we were little ones.”
“You are then, my dears, left alone in the world. Unless I have been misinformed, you have lost both parents.”
“Both are dead, ma’am,” answered Gwenfan, weeping; “and neither my brother nor I am aware of having a single relative living.”
“Had not your papa a sister?” inquired the lady.