the bird go free. And there's Morva now, happy and bright like she was
before she found out that her promise to Will was galling her sore.
'Tis only one thing she wants now, Gethin. 'Tis for Garthowen to be
happy, and that will never be till thou art home once more. Come,
Gethin bâch, come home with me; our hearts are all set upon thee."

"Halt!" said Gethin, and he pushed his fingers through his hair until
it stood on end. "Phew! Mrs. Jones was never stinting with her fire;
'tis stifling hot here," and he turned away to the doorway, and stood a
moment looking out into the street. "Will married--and not to Morva!"
What wild hopes were rising again within him? but he crushed them down,
and turned on his heel with a laugh. "How you women can live day after
day with a roaring fire I can't think--but come, Sara, on with your
story."

"Well!" she said, "all the way from Garthowen I have come to fetch
thee, Gethin, and thou must come home with me."

"Would Morva like to see me?" he said, in a low, uncertain voice.

"Oh! Gethin, thou art a foolish man, and a blind man! Morva does not
know what I have come here for; but if thou ask'st me the question,
'Would Morva be glad to see me?' I answer 'Yes.'"

"D'ye think that--that--"

"Never mind what I think, come home and find out for thyself."

"Sara, woman," said Gethin, bringing his fist down with a thump on the
table, "take care what you are doing. I tell you it has taken me three