CHAPTER XVIII

SARA

For Gwenda and Will, from this time forward, all went "merry as a
marriage bell." Early in the spring their wedding took place in
London, and when one morning Morva brought from Pont-y-fro post office
a packet for Ebben Owens containing a wedge of wedding cake and cards,
he evinced some show of interest. On the box was written in Gwenda's
pretty firm writing,

"With love to Garthowen, from William and Gwenda Owen."

Ebben rubbed his knees with satisfaction.

"There now," he said, "in her own handwriting, too! Well, indeed! I
thought she was a nice young lady that day she came here, but, caton
pawb! I never thought she would marry our Will."

A second piece of cake was enclosed and addressed. "To my friends Sara
and Morva of the Moor," and Morva carried it home with mingled feelings
of pride and pleasure, but paramount was the joy of knowing that she
was completely released from the promise which had become so galling to
her.

"I knew," said Sara, "that that face would bring us a blessing," and
she looked with loving inquiry into Morva's face, which was full of
varying expressions.