Garthowen Part 9

"Hast thanked Gethin, la.s.s?" said the old man.

"Not much, indeed," she answered, turning back at the door, "but I thank thee, Gethin, for remembering me," and, half-playfully and half-seriously, she made him a little bob curtsey.

Arrived in the cottage she drew eagerly into the gleam of the candle.

"Mother, mother, look! see what Gethin has brought me. Oh! look at them, mother; row under row of glittering sh.e.l.ls from some far-off beach. Look at them, mother; green--blue--purple with a silver sheen over them, too. I never thought there were such sh.e.l.ls in the world."

"They are beautiful, indeed," said Sara, "but just like a sailor. If he had given thee something useful it would have been better. They will not suit a shepherdess. Thee will have to take them off in a day or two and lay them away in their box. 'Tis a pity, too, child."

"Any way, mother, I will wear them sometimes; they are only sh.e.l.ls after all. 'Tis hard I can't wear them because they are so lovely."

And the next day she wore them again, and, longing to see for herself how she looked, made her way up to the moor in the early morning suns.h.i.+ne to where a clear pool in the brown peat bog reflected the sky and the gold of the furze bushes. Here she stood on the edge and gazed at her own reflection in the clear water.

"Oh, 'tis pretty!" she said leaning over the pool, and as she gazed her own beautiful face with its halo of golden hair impressed itself on her mind as it had never done before. "And there's pretty I am, too," she whispered, and gazing at her own image she blushed, entranced with the vision. "Good-bye, Morva," she whispered again, "good-bye. I wonder does Gethin see me pretty? But I must not think that; what would be the use? Will does, and that must be enough for me;" and with a sigh she turned down the moor again.

CHAPTER VII

THE BROOM GIRL

One morning in the following week the high road leading to Castell On presented a lively appearance. It was white and dusty from the tramp of the country folk and the vehicles of all descriptions which followed each other towards the town, whose one long street would be crowded from ten o'clock in the morning till late afternoon, as it was market day. This was the weekly excitement of the neighbourhood, and there was scarcely a household within the radius of a few miles that did not send at least one of its members to swell the number of chafferers and bargainers in the market. Jolly farmers, buxom maidens, old women in witch hats and scarlet scarves, pigs, sheep, horses, all followed each other in the same direction.

Amongst the rest came a girl who rather stooped under what looked like a large bunch of blooming heather. It was Morva, who was carrying her bundle of heath brooms to the corner of the market-place, where she was eagerly waited for by the farmers' wives.

Dyc "pigstye" was accustomed to bring her a bundle of broom handles, which he had roughly fas.h.i.+oned in the wood in the valley, and she and Sara employed their leisure hours in tying on to them the bunches of purple heather, binding them firmly with the young withies of the willows growing here and there on the boggy moor.

There was always quite a little knot of women round her stall of brooms and wings, for she collected also from the farmhouses the wings of the geese and ducks which had been killed for the market, and after drying them carefully in the big chimney, sold them as brushes for hearth and stairs. Sometimes, too, her stock-in-trade was increased by a collection of wooden bowls, spoons, scales, and trenchers, which Stiven "Storrom," living on the sh.o.r.e below, turned off his lathe, and sold through Morva's agency. At such times she borrowed Stiven's donkey-cart, and stood by it in the market until her wares were sold.

But to-day she had only her brooms, and tying them on her shoulders, she held the cords crossed over her bosom, stooping a little under their weight. Her head was buried in the purple blossoms, so that she did not hear the tramp of footsteps following close behind her.

Gethin and Will were going to the market together, and the latter had recognised the girl at some distance off, but had kept silence and lessened his speed a little until his brother had asked:

"Who is this la.s.s walking before us? Let's catch her up and carry her brooms for her."

"Nonsense," said Will. "A Garthowen man may drive his sheep, his oxen, and his horses to market, but to carry a bundle of brooms would not look well. Leave them and the fowls to the women, and the pigs to the men-servants--that's my fancy."

"Well, my fancy is to help this la.s.sie," said Gethin. "She's got a tidy pair of ankles, whatever; let's see what her face is like."

"'Tis Morva," said Will, rather sulkily.

"Then we know what her face is like. Come on, man. Who will be the first to catch her?" and Gethin hurried his steps, while Will held back a little. "Why, what's the matter? Surely thou art not ashamed to be seen with Morva?"

"Of course not," said Will irritably; "but--er--er--a broom girl!"

"Oh, jawks!" said Gethin. "Brooms or no brooms, I am going to catch her up," and coming abreast other, he laid his hand on the bunches of blooming heather.

"Morva," he said, bending round her purple burden, "where art here, la.s.sie? Thee art buried in flowers! Come, loosen thy cords, and hoist them upon my shoulder."

And as the girl looked at him from under the brooms, his voice changed, the brusque sailor manner softened.

"'Tis not for a girl like thee to be carrying a heavy weight on thy shoulders," he said gently. "Come, loosen thy cords."

But Morva held them tightly.

"Not for the world," she said. "It is quite right I should carry my wares to market, but I would not like to see a son of Garthowen with a bundle of brooms on his shoulders."

"I will have them," he said; "come, loosen the cords," and he laid hold of one of the hands which held the rope.

A warm glow overspread Morva's face, as the large brown hand covered hers in its firm grasp.

"No, I will do this to please thee," she said, and loosening her hold of the bundle, she flung it suddenly into an empty red cart which was rattling by. "Take care of them, Shemi, thou know'st my corner in the market."

"Yes, yes," said Shemi, "they will be all right."

And Morva stood up in the suns.h.i.+ne freed from her burden.

Will seemed to think it the right time to join them, and suddenly appearing, greeted the girl, but rather coldly, and the three walked on together, Gethin much resenting Will's bad temper, and endeavouring to make up for his brother's somewhat silent and pre-occupied manner by keeping up the conversation himself. But a little constraint fell upon them all, Gethin chafing at the girl's apparent nervousness, and his brother's silence; Morva fearful of offending Will, and disturbed at her own pleasure at meeting Gethin. When they reached the town she bade them good-bye.

"Here's my corner," she said, "and when I have sold my brooms, I am going home in the cart from the mill at Pont-y-fro."

Will seemed relieved at this solving of his difficulties, but Gethin was not so satisfied; he roamed the market discontentedly, filling his pockets with sweets and gingerbread. Many times that day he peered through the crowd into the corner out of the sun, where Morva's purple blooms made a grand show. At last he ventured nearer, and laying his sweets and gingerbreads down beside her, said:

"Thee'll be hungry by and by, Morva; wilt have these?"

The girl's eyes drooped, and she scarcely answered, but the smile and the blush with which she took up the paper bags were quite enough for Gethin, who went home early, with that smile and blush gilding every thought and every subject of conversation with his companions of the road.

In the afternoon Morva, having sold her brooms, prepared to leave the market. Looking up the sunny street, she saw Will approaching, and the little cloud of sadness which Gethin's genial smile had banished for a time, returned, bringing with it a pucker on the brows and a droop at the corners of her mouth.

"Well, indeed," she soliloquised, "there's grand Will is looking, with his gloves and s.h.i.+ning boots; quite like a gentleman. 'Tis not only me he will have to say good-bye to soon, I am thinking, but to all at Garthowen."

Her thoughts were interrupted by his arrival. "Art still here, Morva?"

he said; "I thought thee wouldst have gone long ago."

"Only just now I have sold my brooms. There's Jacob the Mill, now I will go."

Will looked at the cart uneasily as it rumbled up the street; already he was beginning to be ashamed of his rustic surroundings.

With keen sensitiveness Morva read his thoughts.

"Nay, there's no need for you to help me, Will. I am used to the mill cart, and indeed to goodness, 'twould not suit with gloves and s.h.i.+ning boots to be helping a girl into a red cart."

"Twt, nonsense," said Will irritably; but he nevertheless allowed her to leave him, with a wave of her hand, and an amused twinkle in her eye.

As she hurried to catch the cart, he stood a moment moodily looking after her, his better nature prompting him to follow and help her, but it was too late; already the brilliant vehicle, with Morva and the burly Jacob sitting in it side by side, was swallowed up by the crowd of market people and cattle, and Will turned on his heel with a look of vexation on his face.

The market was at its liveliest, the sunny air laden with a babel of sounds. Men and women chattered and chaffered, pigs shrieked, sheep bleated, and cattle lowed, but Will scarcely noticed the familiar sounds. A light step and a soft voice, however, attracted his attention, and he saw approaching him two girls, who evidently belonged to a different cla.s.s from those whose simple ways we have hitherto followed. One was a lady of very ordinary appearance, but the other he recognised as Miss Vaughan of Nantmyny, a young lady whose beauty and pleasant manners were the frequent theme of the countryside gossip, "and no wonder," he thought, "she _is_ pretty!"

"Ah! what a pity!" she was saying to her friend, who was evidently a young housekeeper intent upon her purchases, "the brooms are all gone!