that he was already due there.

Once more the little red mantle passed through the busy crowd. Not for
years had Sara felt so sad and disappointed, the heavy air of the town
probably added to her dejection.

Mrs. Jones was loud in her sympathy as Sara, faint and weary, seated
herself on the settle.

"Oh, Kitty Jones fâch!" she said, leaning on her stick and swaying
backwards and forwards. "I am more sorry than I can say. To go back
without comfort for Garthowen or my little Morva. He's gone to France,
and I suppose he won't be back for a year or six months, whatever, and
I have no money to stop here all that time."

"Six months!" said Mrs. Jones; "there's ignorant you are in the
country. Why, he'll be back in a fortnight, perhaps a week. What's
the woman talking about?"

"Yes, indeed?" said Sara, in delighted astonishment. "Yes, I am a very
ignorant woman, I know, but a week or a fortnight, or even three weeks,
I will stop," and the usual look of happy content once more beamed in
her eyes.

Every day little Tom Jenkins, upon whom Sara's two pennies had made a
favourable impression, went down to the docks to see if the _Gwenllian_
had arrived. When a week, a fortnight, and nearly three weeks had
passed away, and still she was not in port, Mrs. Jones suggested that
probably she had extended her voyage to some other port, or was perhaps
waiting for repairs.