CHAPTER V.

_THE RIGHT MAN COMING AT THE RIGHT TIME_.

“Is it not strange, dear aunt,” said Gwenfan, “that Cadwgan has been so long silent? We have not heard from him for more than a month. He might just have sent a line to say he was well, and when we may expect him?”

“Cadwgan, my dear child, has now a great deal to do. Since his promotion, doubtless his time is fully occupied.”

“I should like to see a likeness of the young lady to whom he refers in his letters. If the description he gives be anything approaching the truth, she must be queen both in personal appearance and purity of mind.”

“Do you refer to Miss Jones, my child?”

“Yes, aunt bach; I refer certainly to her. I think my naughty brother is in love with her.”

“It will be an excellent match, Gwenfan, for Miss Jones is an only child of very rich parents.”

“I was not aware, aunt, that Mr. Jones was a person of great wealth, though I thought he was well to do.”

“It is said, that her papa will give her £50,000 on the morning of her marriage, with the certainty of farther expectations.”

“Well, I should like to see Cadwgan settled, if he had a kind, good, and loving wife. For myself, aunty, I intend to remain single, and be like you, an old maid.”

“Oh, you do, do you? You will alter your opinion, I’ll be bound when the right man comes.”

“But will the right man come, aunty? Never, never, say I.”

“Oh, the right man will certainly come, Gwenfan. I declare there he is. Look! look! be quick! Why, he is coming here. If you wish to escape his net, fly, my niece, at once to your room.”

“Fly? I will not do that, aunty,” said Gwenfan, laughing. “Though perhaps we had better retire and prepare ourselves to receive him.”

“Well thought of, my child; and tell the servant, if he seeks us, to show him into the drawing-room, where we will presently join him.”

When the servant opened the door, the young gentleman inquired if Miss Wynn were within, as he wished to see her on a matter of some importance. Receiving a reply in the affirmative, the servant conducted the stranger to the drawing-room, on entering which he took a seat in the great bay-window, from which he gazed on the glorious prospect around. So enchanted was he with the sight, the exquisite beauty of the scene, that he did not notice the entrance of the ladies, who had been a few minutes in the room before he became aware of their presence. At last Miss Aunt Wynn approached the chair on which he was seated, when the ruffle of her dress awoke him from his reverie. He then rose, apologised for his abrupt visit, but excused himself by saying that circumstances had occurred which had compelled him to alter his original arrangement, hence he found himself there two days earlier than he had expected.

“But ladies, in my having to apologise, I forget to introduce myself. My name is Rhys Roberts, and I presume,” pointing to the young lady standing by her aunt’s chair, “that she is your niece, Miss Gwenfan Wynn.”

“Yes, sir; this young lady is my niece.”

“I thought so. She is the very image of her brother.”

“And do you know my brother?” asked Gwenfan.

“Know him! He is my father’s chief hand, and my most intimate friend.”

“When did you see or hear from my brother, sir?”

“When I left London, we arranged to meet here. I have been expecting a letter from him daily, but no letter has reached me. I cannot think what has become of him. It is quite possible he may be detained on important business. He had a very important matter in hand when I left.”

“We have not heard from him,” said the aunt, “for a month, and his sister and I are getting very anxious about him.”

“You need not, ladies, be in any alarm. During the last month, he has been working night and day, and has had scarcely a moment to spare. He has now completed his labours, so on Monday, or on Tuesday next at the farthest, you may expect him.”

“In that case, we shall have the pleasure of your company until his arrival,” remarked the aunt. “My nephew’s friend will ever receive here a hearty welcome.”

“I’m extremely obliged to you, madam, for your kind offer of hospitality, and as I wish, and am most anxious, to pay a visit to the most remarkable places in your neighbourhood, I embrace your kind offer, if you and Miss Gwenfan will promise to act as my cicerones, as doubtless you are thoroughly acquainted with every nook and corner of the country where the beauteous spots are to be found.”

“We shall, sir,” said the ladies, “be delighted to show you the most romantic spots to be found in wild Wales. For grandeur and bold scenery our neighbourhood has no equal. But, Mr. Roberts, you must judge for yourself. When you have traversed our mountains and valleys, our high hills and sylvan glades, you will say that the beauties of the surrounding scene are beyond the descriptive powers of the most eloquent pen of this age.”

During the few days of their tour, they visited Bettws-y-Coed, Capel Curig, the Swallow Falls, Pont Aberglaslyn, Llyngwynant, Tan y Bwlch, Maentwrog, Ffestiniog, Rhayadr Ddû, Tremadoc, Harlech, and Aberdovy, returning late on Saturday night from the latter town. Both the ladies and Mr. Roberts had thoroughly enjoyed their outing; the latter especially, having now for the first time beheld the scenes, was charmed with the grand sights which he had beheld.

During this excursion there had sprung up, unconsciously to himself, a feeling of more than respect for Miss Gwenfan, whilst she and her aunt concluded that Mr. Roberts was one of the most kind-hearted, generous, and amiable young gentlemen with whom they had ever come in contact. It must, too, be owned that Mr. Roberts had awakened in her young heart emotions of a kind, and in a degree, to which that heart had been previously a stranger.

When Mr. Roberts retired to his dressing-room he wrote in his diary the following sentence: “Happy, thrice happy, will be the man who secures such a prize as Miss Gwenfan! In her heart is lodged the deepest reverence for truth, for virtue, and religion. She is, too, as beautiful as she is good. Her attachment to and admiration of her native country and its people is as deep and as enthusiastic as was that of the glorious old patriots of olden times. Then the days I have passed in her society have been the happiest I ever spent. I can hardly realize the happiness I have enjoyed. They are like a dream, though in the foreground of the vision there stands the good and beautiful maiden, with her curly locks, her auburn hair, her dark eye, and a countenance as clear as the crystal streamlet. In spite of myself I love her. I now retire to rest. May her dreams be as pleasant as I hope mine will be!”

At breakfast, on the following Sabbath morning, Mr. Roberts asked the ladies if they would accompany him to the Methodist Church, at Tan y Bwlch, as he was particularly desirous of hearing the Rev. Thomas Charles, of Bala, who at that time was considered one of the most eminent clergymen in Wales.

“It is fortunate, Mr. Roberts, you put the question to us,” replied the ladies.

“And why?”

“Oh, you have simply anticipated us in your request.”

“Then you had arranged to go?”

“Yes, conditionally on your accompanying us to hear that great and good man.”

“I am delighted, madam, in the prospect of seeing and hearing one so distinguished for learning and piety, one who has made so many sacrifices for the spiritual welfare of his countrymen.”

On their arrival at the church they found it crammed to suffocation, scarcely a single inch remained unoccupied. However, as the Misses Wynn and Mr. Roberts came in a carriage, and Bryn Villa being always open to receive clergymen of this and all other denominations, the deacons managed to find them seats. Mr. Charles’ discourse was above the average; some of the passages were most eloquent, and many members of the congregation were bathed in tears.

On their way home Mr. Roberts referred to a passage in Mr. Charles’ sermon, which he considered most beautiful. “You remember he said, ‘implicitly to follow the counsel of the best and wisest of men, is to depend on an arm of flesh. They only are right and safe who make God’s glory their end, God’s word their rule, God’s spirit the guide of their actions, and God’s providence the guide of their affairs. They may not be led by the nearest, but they will be by the best road; as it will certainly appear when they come to their journey’s end.’ If the Christian Church, and if all religious people were to act according to Mr. Charles’ sublime idea, the race would be happier than it is. The standard he set before us is a high one. I’ve found it difficult to live up to it.”

“I have no doubt you have, Mr. Roberts,” remarked the aunt. “We must, however, do our best, then Heaven will surely smile upon us, though we but imperfectly perform our religious duty.”

“It is that thought, madam, which cheers me in my hour of gloom and sadness. I often think that I should have given up striving to live to God were it not for the glorious promises He has given His Church and people. In my endeavour to attain to the highest form of spiritual life, your nephew, Miss Wynn, your dear brother, Miss Gwenfan, has helped me by his wise counsel, while his deep religiousness and high Christian character have been incentives to me to aspire to reach the highest good.”

The reference to her brother brought tears to Gwenfan’s eyes. Ever since he had left home, she had prayed every night and morning that he might be kept from evil, kept unspotted from the world, kept safely in the pavilion of the unseen and eternal.

Mr. Roberts, seeing the young lady in tears, asked if he could in any way alleviate her sorrow; but she at once replied,—

“I weep not, sir, because my heart is sad. I am almost overcome with joy by reason of your reference to dear Cadwgan. Oh, I do rejoice with unspeakable satisfaction, that he has not forgotten the holy lessons our dear parents taught us. Though they are gone, I feel their spirits often visit us, and I think they watch over us with the same care and solicitude as when they were present in the flesh.”

“Happy, my dear Miss Wynn, must be the brother whose beloved sister, living here amongst the Welsh mountains, prays daily for his welfare. I can bear testimony to his practical piety, his eminent godliness, his deep devotional spirit. He has taught me to love and adore the Name which is above every name. There is, too, a fragrance about Cadwgan’s acts and life. Truly has he been the guide of my inexperience, my counsellor, my friend. During the past three years, scarcely a day has passed without our having conversation on the highest things. Since we parted the other day, I have missed him much. Oh, I wish he had come! But there _is_ your brother. Look! He is waiting our return.”

In a moment afterward Cadwgan and his sister were locked in each other’s arms.

During the following week Miss Gwenfan Wynn and Mr. Roberts were almost constantly together; and it must be owned that there grew up between those two young and innocent hearts a feeling more warm, more ardent, and more fervent than usually exists between friends and acquaintances; a feeling which if permitted to ripen and develop, would result in the union of heart with heart, soul with soul,—a feeling the intensity of which would survive even the tomb.

After the happy days thus spent together, Miss Wynn one evening remarked to her niece, “Has not the right man come, my child? I suppose I shall hear no more of your living the life of an old maid?”

“Oh, aunt, you are too cruel. I like Mr. Roberts much, but only as Cadwgan’s friend.”

“Well, well; we shall see what we shall see. You will be Mrs. Roberts one of these days. There, don’t blush my child. There is no harm in your loving so noble a youth.”