By Berwen Banks

And as Valmai partook of her tea and bread and butter and ham, even his

hospitable feelings were satisfied.

"Now I'm going to ring for Mrs. Finch to take these things away, uncle;

no more books, mind!"

"No, no," he said, laughing; "she's had four to-day, and a pair of

slippers, and that'll do for one day. After all, she's a good ole

sole! though why sole more than whiting or mackerel Ay never could make

ewt. She knows me and my ways, may dear, and Ay pay her well. Eight

shillings a week regular! and she only comes at ten and leaves at

faive. Oh! bless you, she knows when she's well off, or she wouldn't

put up with the books and slippers. Ay know 'em!" he added, with a

shrewd wink, which set Valmai laughing again. When Mrs. Finch came in

for the tray he was quite amiable. "Well, ole gel," he said, "this is

the night for your wages, isn't it?"

"Iss, sir," said the woman, with a sniff and a bob curtsey.

"There's my purse. Count it out to her, may dear. Eight shillings,

every penny, and there's a shilling overhead for good luck, Mrs. Finch,

becos the lil gel has come to manage the ship for us. Now remember,

she's capting now and you're the mate."

"Iss, sir, and thank you," said Mrs. Finch, disappearing with practised

celerity through the doorway.

And so Valmai took her place at once as "captain" of her uncle's house,

and, in spite of his gruff ways and his tremendous voice, she felt more

at home with him than with Essec Powell, for here her presence was

valued, and she felt sure that she had a place in the old man's warm

heart.

She slept heavily through the next night, and in the morning awoke

refreshed, and with a feeling of brightness and cheerfulness which she

had not expected to feel so soon. Her new life would give her plenty

to do, to fill up every hour and to drive out all useless regrets and

repinings.

Deep in her heart lay the one unsatisfied longing. Nothing could alter

that; nothing could heal the wound that Cardo's departure had made

except the anticipation of his return. Yes, that day would come! and

until then she would bear her sorrow with a brave heart and smiling

face. The weather continued rough and stormy, and, looking out from

her bedroom window, the grey skies and windswept streets made no

cheerful impression upon her. The people, the hurrying footsteps, and

the curious Pembrokeshire accent, gave her the impression of having

travelled to a foreign country, all was so different to the peaceful

seclusion of the Berwen banks. It was a "horrid dull town," she

thought and with the consciousness of the angry white harbour which she

had caught sight of on her arrival, her heart sank within her; but she

bravely determined to put a good face on her sorrow. On the second

morning after her arrival she was sitting on the window-seat in her

uncle's room, and reading to him out of the newspaper, when the bang of

the front door and a quick step on the stair announced the doctor's

arrival.