Ever since that first mistake of my life I have suffered the punishment of it, Sara, and thou hast reaped the golden blessing." "Yes," said Sara, looking dreamily over the garden hedge, "I have had more than compensation, my cup is full and running over.

No one can understand how bright life is to me," and over her face there spread a light and rapture which Ebben Owens gazed at with a kind of wondering reverence.
"There's no doubt thou hast something within thee that few others have," he said, with a shake of his head.
Here Morva arrived from the milking, and finding them still sitting in the sunshine in earnest conversation, held her finger up reprovingly, and begged them to come in to breakfast.
"Oh, stop, 'n'wncwl Ebben, and have breakfast with us.

Uwd it is, and fresh milk from Garthowen." "No, no, child," said the old man, rising.

"Ann will be waiting for me; I must go at once." "Well indeed, she was laying the breakfast.

She doesn't want me to-day, she says, so I am stopping at home with mother to weed the garden." And as Ebben Owens trudged homewards, her happy voice followed him, breaking clear on the morning air as she sang in the joy other heart: "Troodie! Troodie! come down from the mountain; Troodie! Troodie! come up from the dale; Moelen and Corwen, and Blodwen and Trodwen, I'll meet you all with my milking-pail!" The echo of it brought a pleased smile to the old man's lips, as he neared his home and left the clear singing behind him.
The day had broadened to noontide, and had passed into late afternoon, when Gethin Owens once more crept round the Cribserth.