By Berwen Banks

"I believe you, Cardo, though I doubt if you realise the blessing you

enjoy in living amongst such picturesque scenes. To me, coming from a

flat, uninteresting country, it seems a privilege to thank God for on

your knees."

"Perhaps I feel it as much as you do, Ellis, though I couldn't put it

into words, all I know is, I had rather live here on five shillings a

week than I would on five pounds elsewhere."

"You are a matter-of-fact fellow. Five shillings a week indeed! and

five pounds--worse! If you were not so much bigger and stronger than

me I'd knock you down, Cardo. Come, let us have a stroll in the

moonlight."

And they went out, the one to rhapsodise and to quote poetry; the other

to shock his friend with his plain, unvarnished remarks, while his eyes

and thoughts crossed the valley, and followed the moonlight which

lightened up the old grey house looking down from the opposite hill.

"Where was Valmai?" He had caught a glimpse of her in the afternoon as

he returned from Abersethin, the path to which led him through Essec

Powell's fields. Caught a glimpse of her only, for as ill luck would

have it, as he crossed one corner of the field she was reaching the

gate at the further corner. Other maidens wore white frocks and straw

hats, but his heart told him that this was no other than Valmai. He

could hear her singing as she went, a long wreath of ox-eyed daisies

trailing behind her, the gate open and she was gone; but surely here

were signs of her recent presence, for round the horns of Corwen, the

queen of the herd of cows, was wreathed the rest of the daisy chain.

She was a beautiful white heifer, with curly forehead and velvet ears.

As Cardo approached and patted her neck, she looked softly at him out

of her liquid brown eyes shaded with long black lashes.

"She is a beauty!" said Cardo, looking at her with the critical eye of

a farmer, "and worthy to be Valmai's pet. What a picture for Ellis to

paint! Valmai and Corwen. By Jove, I'll try to manage it."

Gwynne Ellis was delighted when Cardo broached the subject as they

roamed over the cliff in the moonlight.

"Can you paint animals and--er--er--human beings as well as you can

scenery, Ellis?"

"Not quite, perhaps, but still pretty well. You liked that sketch of

'The priest and the girl at the confessional,' didn't you?"

"Yes--very much. Well, now, what do you say to a pretty white cow and

her mistress?"

"Oh! 'a pretty girl milking her cow'--a charming subject. Show it me,

Cardo--not Betto, now--you don't mean Betto? though, 'pon my word, I

have seen her look very picturesque on the milking stool."