he had more talents than the rector had given him credit for, when he
affirmed that the lad had been completely stupefied by the life he
led at Bodowen. He bade fair to do credit to the school in the
peculiar branch of learning for which it was famous. But he was not
popular among his schoolfellows. He was wayward, though, to a
certain degree, generous and unselfish; he was reserved but gentle,
except when the tremendous bursts of passion (similar in character to
those of his father) forced their way.

On his return from school one Christmas-time, when he had been a year
or so at Bangor, he was stunned by hearing that the undervalued
Augharad was about to be married to a gentleman of South Wales,
residing near Aberystwith. Boys seldom appreciate their sisters; but
Owen thought of the many slights with which he had requited the
patient Augharad, and he gave way to bitter regrets, which, with a
selfish want of control over his words, he kept expressing to his
father, until the Squire was thoroughly hurt and chagrined at the
repeated exclamations of "What shall we do when Augharad is gone?"
"How dull we shall be when Augharad is married!" Owen's holidays
were prolonged a few weeks, in order that he might be present at the
wedding; and when all the festivities were over, and the bride and
bridegroom had left Bodowen, the boy and his father really felt how
much they missed the quiet, loving Augharad. She had performed so
many thoughtful, noiseless little offices, on which their daily
comfort depended; and now she was gone, the household seemed to miss
the spirit that peacefully kept it in order; the servants roamed
about in search of commands and directions, the rooms had no longer
the unobtrusive ordering of taste to make them cheerful, the very
fires burned dim, and were always sinking down into dull heaps of
gray ashes. Altogether Owen did not regret his return to Bangor, and