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Every Wednesday evening at the prayer-meeting he is praying for the 'Vicare du, and Betto told me last week that the Vicare is praying for my uncle on Tuesday evenings." "Oh, Lord! has it come to that?" said Cardo. "Then I'm afraid we can never hope for peace between them." They both laughed, and the girl's rippling tones mingled musically in Cardo's ears with the gurgle of the Berwen.
"Yes, back across those slippery stones and across the shore, and then back again to this side. I can help you, you know." Cardo's voice was very low and tender. It seemed ridiculous, but somehow he gained his point.
"Yes," she said, bending her head over a moon-daisy, from which she drew the petals one by one. "Loves me not," she said, as she held the last up for Cardo's inspection with a mischievous smile. "It's a false daisy, love," he said, drawing her nearer to him, "for if my heart is not wholly and entirely yours, then such a thing as love never existed.
The cold Fleming had very little part in Cardo's nature, and, with his enthusiastic Welsh sympathies, he was wont to regret and disclaim his connection with these ancient ancestors.
As they drove along the high road together and crossed the little bridge over the Berwen Valley, the Vicar, pointing with his whip, drew Cardo's attention to the stile beside the bridge. "This is the stile which I saw Ellen Vaughan crossing the day I met your mother waiting for her. I met my brother afterwards, and oh! how blinded I was!
"Howyr bâch! well, well! there's glad I am to see you, sir!" And he shook Cardo's hand vigorously. "And, oh, dear, dear; there's sorry I am you didn't come sooner, sir, before the poor young leddy went away. She was broke her heart too much to stop after her small child was buried and a beautiful boy he was too, sir, the very picture of you."
Not even Cardo's presence was missed by her, for she knew now that he loved her; she knew that sooner or later she should meet him, should see him coming, through the golden sunlight of the morning, or in the crimson glory of the evening, with buoyant steps and greeting hands towards her; and almost as the thought crossed her mind, a sound fell on her ear which brought the red blood mantling to her cheek.
"It is base and dishonourable," said Gwladys, still struggling in his grasp, "to frighten a friendless girl and force your presence upon her." But Cardo's grasp was suddenly relaxed. Dropping his arms at his sides, and going back a step or two, he stood aside to let her pass. His long-tried temper had over-mastered him, as with a scornful voice he spoke for the last time.
One or two of Cardo's long steps brought him up with her. "Don't you come from Ynysoer?" he said. "I think I know your face." "Yes, gwae fi! that I had got safe back again, but my mother is ill," she shouted, as the wind carried her words away, "and I must stay with her till tomorrow, no one could go back over the Rock Bridge to-night; though, indeed, I met a young girl crossing "
But, certainly there was nothing to attract him to his home nothing but his love for a surly old father! "A fine fellow!" he soliloquised, with a side jerk of his head. "A fine fellow! a son to be proud of!" And when Gwynne Ellis joined him at tea, they vied with each other in their praises of Cardo's character.
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