entering Llaniago College at the beginning of the next term.

"I'll tell him if he comes here," said Ann. "I wouldn't have him think
that Gwilym Morris, the Methodist minister, spent his time in teaching
a parson."

"Well," said the preacher, who was standing at the old glass bookcase
looking for a book, "you certainly did spring the news very suddenly
upon me, Will; you kept your secret very close; but still, Ann, it
makes no difference. I would have done anything for your brother, and
I'm glad, whatever his course may be, that I have been able to impart
to him a little knowledge."

"Look you here now," said the old man, shuffling uneasily, for there
was a secret consciousness between him and his son that they had
wilfully kept Gwilym Morris in the dark as long as possible, fearing
lest his dissenting principles might prevent the accomplishment of
their wishes, "look you here now, Will, October is very near, and it
means money, my boy, and that's not gathered so easy as blackberries
about here; you must wait until Christmas, and you shall go to Llaniago
in the New Year, but I can't afford it now."

Will's handsome face flushed to the roots of his hair, his blue eyes
sparkled with anger, and the clear-cut mouth took a petulant curve as
he answered, rising hastily from the tea-table:

"Why didn't you tell me that sooner, instead of letting me go and speak
to Mr. Price? You have made a fool of me!" And he went out, banging
the door after him.