with every day of her mother's absence, until it gilded her whole life
with a rapturous expectancy; at all events, it was a very blithe and
joyous maiden who brushed the dew off the sheep path to Garthowen in
time for the milking that morning. She would have sung one of Sara's
old Nature songs, had not the remembrance of the sorrow at the farm
kept her silent. The March wind blew keen and crisp around her, the
air was filled with the quivering songs of the larks, the furze was
bursting into bloom, even the bare blackthorn put on its speckled
mantle of white; what wonder was it in a world so fair, that Morva's
heart sang for joy? But as she turned round the Cribserth, a sudden
shadow came upon her, for here was Ebben Owens coming towards her, with
bent head and slow dragging step. She hurried forward to meet him.

"I thought thee wouldst turn back, lass, or make an excuse to pass me
by," he said.

"But no! no! no!" said the girl, linking her arm into the old man's,
and turning back with him, "'tis closer and closer we must cling
together, 'n'wncwl Ebben, dear, the further we go on the path of life.
Did you think that Morva could pass you by? Ach y fi! no indeed! But
where are you going so early?"

"To see Sara," said the old man--"to see if she will still be my friend
when she knows how bad I am."

"She knows it all," said Morva; "I told her last night, and her heart
was torn with sorrow and love for you; and now turn back with me to
Garthowen, for Sara is gone; the cottage is empty!"

"Gone!" said the old man, with a gasp, "Sara gone!"