By Berwen Banks

"At Llanython, of course; wasn't you hear of it? Why! you ought to be

there, pranked out in your ribbons and finery, talking and laughing

with the young men, and coming home in the evening with your

pocket-handkerchief full of gingerbread and nuts," and he looked her

over from top to toe.

It had never struck him before that there was any charm in her

appearance, but now he seemed to realise that she was worthy to be seen

at the fair.

"Yes," he said pensively, with his thumbs in the armholes of his

waistcoat; "I wouldn't wonder a bit now if you wass to pick up a

sweet'arr amongst the gentry, because you are beginning to speak

English as good as the Vicare, and you are not quite like the girls

about here, Valmai."

"Am I not?" she said laughingly.

"No," he said seriously; "and that's where you will be failing.

There's not a chap about here will take a miladi like you for a wife.

You must learn to kom over the farm-yard without picking up your

skirts, and looking at your shoes to see if they are dirty, if you want

to marry a farmer."

"Indeed, I don't wish to marry a farmer," said Valmai, "nor anyone else

who doesn't want me."

Shoni again shook his head solemnly. "Yes, yes," he said, "I see how

it is; s'not only the pigs, and the calves, and hens, but you too I

must take to markets and fairs, or we shall never marry you," and he

turned away pondering seriously over his self-imposed duties.

Valmai looked after him a little wistfully. Where should she go now?

How should she spend the long day? Gwen would see to the housework,

and would brook no interference with her management. Nobody wanted

her, and nobody thought of her, except Shoni, and to him she seemed

rather a burden; or was there one who thought of her sometimes?--who

cared a little for her? With heightened colour and quick step she

turned from the farm-yard down the steep path which led to the river's

banks, and as she made her way through the thick hazel and willow

brushwood she could not quite suppress the hope that she might meet

Cardo. But no, perfect solitude reigned over the Berwen.

Down in the valley she could not feel the wind, but she heard its roar

in the tree tops; the birds were silent, the sky was grey, and a little

sadness fell over her spirits as she continued to thread her way under

the tall bracken and brambles, onwards and upwards, until she at length

reached the stile by the bridge upon which she and Cardo had eaten

their gingerbread on the first evening of their acquaintance. The road

which had that night been so quiet and deserted was now full of busy

life, and as Valmai approached the stile and saw the many pedestrians

and vehicles she shrank back a little, and, through the branches of a

hazel bush, looked out on the passers-by, realising that all these

hurrying footsteps, and faces full of interest, were turned towards the

Fair at Llanython.