Garthowen - A Story of a Welsh Homestead by Allen Raine
page 292 of 316 (92%)
page 292 of 316 (92%)
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your fault, dear father, you have made a cornstack of a barleymow. I
am only sorry you have published it abroad as you have done. You need only have confessed to God, or if you wanted to do more, I am an ordained priest. I can't imagine why you did not ask Gwilym to lend you the money; at all events you returned it as soon as you could. Ask Jacob the Mill to keep one of Fan's pups for me." Ebben Owens was too excited by the rest of the letter to notice the callousness of the postscript, and thought only of the kindness which so easily forgave his sin. "Call Ann," he said, and Morva went joyfully. "Come, Ann fâch!" she cried, at the foot of the stairs, "here's good news for you. Will and his wife are coming to see you." Ann came down in a flurry, half of pleasure and half of fright. "Oh, anwl!" she said, as she entered the kitchen, "there's a happy time it will be for us all. Oh! mustn't we bustle about and get everything nice for them. I must rub up the furniture in the best bedroom and get the silver teapot out and the silver spoons!" "Yes," said her father, rubbing his knees, "'twill be a grand time indeed! When will they come, I wonder? Perhaps we have not quite lost Will after all." "Twt, twt, no," said Morva; "didn't mother always say that they would come back to you?" |
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