"Yes, indeed--do you think she meant Gethin too?"

"I think she meant him too," said Morva, blushing.

"When will the gorse and the heather be in full bloom, I wonder? Caton
pawb! I have never noticed it much," asked the old man.

"Oh! in another month," answered Morva, "'twill be gold and purple all
over, with soft blue and brown shadows in the mornings, and in the
evenings grey and copper in all the little hollows. Oh, 'tis
beautiful! and I can show her where the plovers lay their eggs, and I
will take her to listen for the curlew's note coming out of the mist
like a spirit whistler, and I can take her down to the rocks by Ogo
Wylofen, too, where the seals are making their home. But, indeed, Will
knows it all as well as I do, and he will like to show them all to her
himself, I think."

From that day light seemed to dawn upon the old man's soul; his step
grew firmer, he stooped less in the shoulders, he looked less on the
ground and more bravely on his fellow travellers on the road of life.
He did not flinch from the consequences of his confession, but seemed
to find some inward peace, which more than recompensed him for the
discredit which he had brought upon himself. From this time forward a
great change was observable in him, a change for which we can find no
better name than _conversion_. It is an old-fashioned word, all but
tabooed in modern polite society, but where will be found another which
so well expresses the complete transformation in the life and character
of a man who awakes from the sleep of selfish worldliness, to the
better and higher principles of spiritual life? To every human being