[Illustration: IN A MOMENT HE FORGOT EVERY WORD HE MEANT TO SAY]
Meanwhile he thought out a pretty speech to make to her, but he kept his dough and went hungry.
It was late in the afternoon, when the trees on the hills were casting long shadows westward, that he gave up watching, for he supposed she would come no more.
But just as he started to go back to his mother's cabin, he turned his head and there was the same lady, looking more beautiful than ever. In a moment, he forgot every word he meant to say to her. His tongue seemed to leave him, and he only held out his hand, with the dough in it.
But the lake lady, shaking her head, only laughed and said:
Thou of the soft bread
I will not have thee
Though she dived under the water and left him sad and lonely, she smiled so sweetly, as she vanished, that, though again disappointed, he thought she would come again and she might yet accept his gift.
His mother told him to try her with bread half baked, that is, midway between hard crust and soft dough.
So, having packed his lunch, and much excited, though this time with bright hopes, Gwyn went to bed, though not to sleep. At dawn, he was up again and out by the lake side, with his half baked bread in his hand.
It was a day of rain and shine, of sun burst and cloud, but no lady appeared.