So, while Morva had gone singing to her milking, Sara had walked in her herb garden, musing somewhat sadly.
There was neither sorrow nor anxiety in the girl's heart as she hastened her steps down the side of the gorge.

She saw the twinkling light in the window of the old mill kitchen, she heard the trickling of the stream, and the sound of laughter and merry voices which issued from the wide open mill door.
When she arrived there was Gethin busy with the sacks of corn, there was the hot kiln upon which the grain would be roasted, while ranged round it stood the benches which Jacob had prepared for the company.
Already some of the young men and girls from the surrounding farms were dropping in to share in the evening's amusement and work.

Shan, the miller's wife, was busy in the old kitchen with preparations for the midnight meal.

Ebben Owens had caused a small cask of beer to be tapped, and Jacob was unremitting in his attentions to it during the night.
"Garthowen's is worth calling a cynos," he said.

"He doesn't forget how the flour gets into one's throat and makes one thirsty.