talk awhile with Master Rhys on the subject of your confirmation, for since you so much desire it, I trow he will counsel me to seek of your mother the knowledge of your rightful name, which she has till now hidden from us." "I wonder greatly if she will permit us to know it!" said Primrose eagerly. "I fain would do so, though it will be strange to know myself by any other name than Primrose. Yes, I would indeed seek the grace of confirmation, an it please you, dear dad, for Master Rhys has of late oft spoken to me on the matter, and I have many a time thought when that strange shadow has troubled me, that I must needs neglect none of those means of grace which may surely help me to overcome it. It is not often that I am aught but happy and light-hearted, dad, as you know, yet now I am growing older the thought sometimes comes to me that strange things may be in store for me, and perchance a life where all is not full of sunlight like our beautiful valley. Methinks I had a curious beginning, and when I think of it, and of my unknown parents, my heart grows full of strange forebodings for the future." "Thy future is in the hands of God, my child," said the voice of Master Rhys, who, walking with his hands clasped behind his back, and his white hair bared to the evening breeze, came suddenly upon them, as they turned a corner of his garden-path. "What anxious thoughts fill my child's heart to-day?" "I will, with your leave, dear master, go and have them all blown away in your library!" answered Primrose, lifting to his a face which had already regained its brightness. "You think but scorn of my fifteen years, but I do assure you it is an age at which one may indeed have serious thoughts betimes! Yet I do confess that for this day I have had more than enough, and will gladly forget them in the exploits of my favourite Knights of the Round Table." "Then away with you!" said the vicar with a smile; "and you, good Jack, shall meanwhile converse with me awhile in my study, since it is now some days since we have exchanged many words together." CHAPTER VIII. FORTUNE-TELLING. "Destiny is but the breath of God." --JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. "... God hath not taken all that pains in forming and framing and furnishing and adorning this world, that they who were made by Him to live in it should despise it; it will be well enough if they do not love it so immoderately, to prefer it before Him who made it."--CLARENDON.