daughter,--Since your sweet face hath won my Lady Bryn Afon's heart, it is my wish that you should travel with her as she desires, obeying her wish in all things, and striving, as far as in you lies, to comfort and solace her by your presence, and by the exercise of those tender and winning arts with which a good Providence hath, I rejoice to hear, gifted you, in addition to much beauty of countenance; for which good gifts I counsel you, my daughter, to thank Him with all humility, praying continually that they may never prove to you a snare unto sin. You may perchance marvel, and your dear foster-father likewise, that after my oft-repeated injunctions laid upon you to avoid the castle of Bryn Afon, I should thus, as it were, suffer you now to plunge into the very jaws of the lion, by becoming the companion for a season of its sorrowing mistress; but I pray you bid your dear father, from me, to take no thought upon this matter, seeing that the lady is well known by hearsay to myself, and I have no fear of committing you to her care, knowing that she will be to you a true friend and guardian during such time as you remain with her, nor suffer any breath of evil from her connection with her ill-starred house to fall on your fair head. At the close of the winter months, since she must needs return to her lord and husband, you will then likewise return to the care of your excellent foster-father, whom I pray you ever to cherish with fond affection. He will, when the time of your departure comes, commit you to the care of the Lady Rosamond of Caer Caradoc, whose offer to conduct you herself towards London hath been gratefully received by the Lady Bryn Afon, who looks with eagerness for your arrival, and who will, during your sojourn with her in town, make it her pleasure to overlook your wardrobe, making such additions thereto as she shall deem fitting for one whom she chooses for her travelling companion. Wherefore I send you gold in sufficiency, that you may feel yourself in no wise a burden upon her bounty. I pray you, sweet daughter, be not tempted by the glitter and glamour of the Court, and remember ever the sacred vow by which I bound you in your cradle, never to taste any manner of strong drink--the cause for which vow you shall know, should you be spared to the age of one-and-twenty, and I be likewise spared to tell you; to which good time, yet some long, weary years hence, I look forward with deep yearning, and pray God to bring us both!" "Then when I am twenty-one years old," said Primrose, when she and Jack had reached the conclusion of the letter, "my mother will, it would seem, take me to live with her. Think you not so, dear dad?" "It would seem so," answered Jack half sadly. "It were only just and right that mother and child should after so long and passing strange a separation be at last united, and I will not grudge you whatever! yet my poor heart doth verily fail me at the thought, and I confess I