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"Yes, he loves me," answered Morva sadly, but steadily, "and I love him, and I must listen to no other man, for I have promised him." "Promised him! when?" said Gethin, trying to steady his voice. "Oh, many times, many times; two nights ago, here, under this very broom bush, I promised to be true and unchangeable." "Is this true indeed, then?
"It will be time enough," so his reverie ended, "when my future is more defined and certain, then it will be easy to break away from poor Morva."
"How are they at Garthowen?" asked Fani "bakkare." "Oh! they are all well there," answered the girl, panting and fanning herself with her sun-bonnet, "except the white calf, and he is better." "There's hot it is!" said Fani, taking up her basket of groceries. "Oh! 'tis hot!" said the girl, "but there's a lovely wind from the sea." "What are you wanting to-day, Morva?" said Jos.
"My name is Gwenda Vaughan," she added, turning to Morva. "What is yours?" "Mine is Morva Lloyd; but I am generally called Morva of the Moor, I think. Mother's is Sara." "Good-bye, and thank you very much," said Gwenda, and Sara held her hand a moment between her own soft palms, while she looked into the girl's face. "You have a sweet, good face," she said.
Morva's only answer was a peal of laughter, which reached over moor and crag and down to the sandy beach below. "Oh, Will, Will!" she gasped, with her hand on her side, "now indeed thy senses are roaming. Morva Lloyd in velvet shoes and silken gowns, and Will Owens with flapping coat tails like Mr. Price, and one of those ugly shining hats that the gentlemen wear!
I would not have anyone suspect our courtship for all the world. Thou wilt keep my secret, Morva?" "Yes," she said wearily. "Come, cheer up, lass, 'twill soon be over. A year or two and I will have a home for thee I know I will. And now good-bye, I hear footsteps. Good-bye, Morva."
Will wants it to be a secret." "Fear nothing," said Gethin, "I will never tell tales. Gethin Owens has not many good qualities, but he has one, and that is, he would never betray a trust, so be easy, Morva. I am going to Pont-y-fro. Good-night!"
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."
He had ceased to love her, she knew, and although he had never freed her from her promise, Morva had too much common sense to feel bound for ever to a man who had so evidently forgotten her.
'Tis not only me he will have to say good-bye to soon, I am thinking, but to all at Garthowen." Her thoughts were interrupted by his arrival. "Art still here, Morva?" he said; "I thought thee wouldst have gone long ago." "Only just now I have sold my brooms. There's Jacob the Mill, now I will go."
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