Ellis was lost in thought again. "I should like to have seen her; I have something important to discuss with her." "She is coming here the week after next, and then you can speak to her about this interesting subject," said Gwladys. And Ellis thought he saw a look of displeasure on the lovely face. Certainly he had never seen that in Valmai; but then, on the contrary, there was a high-souled nobility of purpose in his present companion's looks which was absent in Valmai. "I daresay when I have seen her she will tell you about all these places." "My sister shall do as she pleases," said Gwladys, a sweet smile chasing away the momentary look of anger; "it will make no difference in our love for each other--she is part of me, and the best part; I am part of her, and the worst part." When they reached the west gate, both were surprised to find that half-an-hour had slipped away. "I will bring my portfolio," said Ellis, as he took his leave, "and you will help me to find the best view of the lake." During the next fortnight, Mrs. Power received frequent calls from the new Vicar; she was delighted with her neighbour, and did everything in her power to make his visits as pleasant to him as they were to herself. His paintings were a never-ending source of interest and admiration to her, and when he proposed to make a sketch of the lake, with its background of fir trees, and glint of blue sky, she was charmed with the idea, and almost every day she and Gwladys accompanied him down the "Velvet Walk" and settled him to his painting, and Gwladys was sent on frequent journeys of inspection during the afternoon. "Go and see how he is progressing, dear." And she would go and linger over the picture with comments and praise; but it must be confessed that the drawing progressed more rapidly during her absence than during these visits of inspection. One afternoon she came running down the "Velvet Walk" with an open letter in her hand, and a distressed look in her eyes. "Oh, Mr. Ellis! such a disappointment! Valmai is not coming this week. She has been feeling unwell lately, and the doctor advises a thorough change for her, so she and Mifanwy Meredith are thinking of going to Switzerland. Hear what she says:--'Mifanwy is longing for the Swiss lakes and mountains, and wishes me to accompany her. I suppose I may as well do so; but I must first make a hurried journey down to Abersethin, and to see you on my way back. I hear from Dr. Francis that dear old Nance is very ill, and it will depend upon how I find her whether I go to Switzerland or not." "Now, isn't that vexing! You would feel for me if you knew what Valmai is to me! I seem to love her with all the accumulation of love which had missed its object for so many long years before we met." Gwynne Ellis was looking seriously into the distance. "I do feel for you, Miss Powell; but don't think me a brute if I say I am not sorry she's gone--something good may come of it."