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It was Sara's red mantle and she knew the faithful heart was waiting for her. "The dear old mother," she said, and hastening her footsteps soon reached Sara, who stood leaning on her stick and peering over the moor. "Here I am, mother!" she said, as cheerfully as she could. "'Merch fâch i!" said Sara tenderly, and they turned into the cottage together.
She had skimmed the cream in the dairy, and fed the new calf; she had scattered the grain before the flocks of fowls and pigeons in the farm-yard; had brushed her uncle's coat, and, while helping him to shuffle into it, had asked him: "Are you going from home to-day, uncle?" "Yes, merch i, didn't I tell you? I am going to a meeting at Pen Morien, and won't be back to-night."
"Thou art more apt to count the clear dawns, while I count the grey ones." "Twt, twt, you must leave off counting the grey ones. There's a verse in mother's Bible that says, 'Forgetting the things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before." "Yes, indeed, 'merch i, I've read it many times, but I never thought much of the meaning of it before.
Whatever thou mayst hear!" and she sighed a little wearily as she lifted the latch of the cottage door. "Morva sighing!" said Sara, who sat reading her chapter by the fireside. "Don't begin that, 'merch i, or I must do the same. I would never be happy, child, if thou wert not happy too; we are too closely knit together."
"She is right; but come thou with me, lass; thou must help me to-night, for I have only done half my task," and as they passed under the elder tree at the back door he hurried before her into the house. "Now, 'merch i, bring me pen and ink and some paper." Now was the time, he felt, when he must make a clean breast of all his guilt, and drink his bitter draught of expiation to the dregs.
"There's a foolish thing to say," said Nance, "and I wonder at you, merch i. You ought to know by this time that we are clay in the hands of the Potter. Little heart, he ought to be christened, and have a name of his own." "He can be 'Baby' till September, and then he will be christened." "And why, September, child?"
"Well, never mind that, 'merch i, if it is rest and happiness here," and Sara laid her finger on the region of Morva's heart. "Tell me that, child; is it rest and love there?" "Oh! I don't know, mother; I don't know indeed, indeed."
How can I live in this world without you?" And swaying backwards and forwards, she cried bitterly. "Not yet, my child, not yet; I have work to do and there are happy days in store for us both; but some day, Morva, it must come, and when it comes thou must not grieve for me. Come, 'merch i, 'tis late; let us go to bed." And the girl, somewhat comforted, dried her eyes and closed the rickety door.
"Yes, 'merch i, put on the milk porridge." And Morva, glad to hide her embarrassment, set about preparing the evening meal, for Gethin's eyes told the admiration which he dared not speak. His gaze followed her about as she mixed the milk and the oatmeal in the quaint old iron crochon.
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