The　sweetbrier　bush　may　even　yet　be　seen；　old　and　gray；　which　she　and
  Owen　planted　a　green　slipling　beneath　the　window　of　her　little
  chamber。　　In　those　moments　Owen　forgot　all　besides　the　present；　all
  the　cares　and　griefs　he　had　known　in　the　past；　and　all　that　might
  await　him　of　woe　and　death　in　the　future。　　The　boy；　too；　was　as
  lovely　a　child　as　the　fondest　parent　was　ever　blessed　with；　and
  crowed　with　delight；　and　clapped　his　little　hands；　as　his　mother　held
  him　in　her　arms　at　the　cottage…door　to　watch　his　father's　ascent　up
  the　rough　path　that　led　to　Ty　Glas；　one　bright　autumnal　morning；　and
  when　the　three　entered　the　house　together；　it　was　difficult　to　say
  which　was　the　happiest。　　Owen　carried　his　boy；　and　tossed　and　played
  with　him；　while　Nest　sought　out　some　little　article　of　work；　and
  seated　herself　on　the　dresser　beneath　the　window；　where　now　busily
  plying　the　needle；　and　then　again　looking　at　her　husband；　she　eagerly
  told　him　the　little　pieces　of　domestic　intelligence；　the　winning　ways
  of　the　child；　the　result　of　yesterday's　fishing；　and　such　of　the
  gossip　of　Penmorfa　as　came　to　the　ears　of　the　now　retired　Nest。　　She
  noticed　that；　when　she　mentioned　any　little　circumstance　which　bore
  the　slightest　reference　to　Bodowen；　her　husband　appeared　chafed　and
  uneasy；　and　at　last　avoided　anything　that　might　in　the　least　remind
  him　of　home。　　In　truth；　he　had　been　suffering　much　of　late　from　the
  irritability　of　his　father；　shown　in　trifles　to　be　sure；　but　not　the
  less　galling　on　that　account。
  While　they　were　thus　talking；　and　caressing　each　other　and　the　child；
  a　shadow　darkened　the　room；　and　before　they　could　catch　a　glimpse　of
  the　object　that　had　occasioned　it；　it　vanished；　and　Squire　Griffiths
  lifted　the　door…latch　and　stood　before　them。　　He　stood　and　looked
  first　on　his　son；　so　different；　in　his　buoyant　expression　of　content
  and　enjoyment；　with　his　noble　child　in　his　arms；　like　a　proud　and
  happy　father；　as　he　was；　from　the　depressed；　moody　young　man　he　too
  often　appeared　at　Bodowen；　then　on　Nestpoor；　trembling；　sickened
  Nest！who　dropped　her　work；　but　yet　durst　not　stir　from　her　seat；　on
  the　dresser；　while　she　looked　to　her　husband　as　if　for　protection
  from　his　father。
  The　Squire　was　silent；　as　he　glared　from　one　to　the　other；　his
  features　white　with　restrained　passion。　　When　he　spoke；　his　words
  came　most　distinct　in　their　forced　composure。　　It　was　to　his　son　he
  addressed　himself：
  〃That　woman！　who　is　she？〃
  Owen　hesitated　one　moment；　and　then　replied；　in　a　steady；　yet　quiet
  voice：
  〃Father；　that　woman　is　my　wife。〃
  He　would　have　added　some　apology　for　the　long　concealment　of　his
  marriage；　have　appealed　to　his　father's　forgiveness；　but　the　foam
  flew　from　Squire　Owen's　lips　as　he　burst　forth　with　invective　against
  Nest：…
  〃You　have　married　her！　　It　is　as　they　told　me！　　Married　Nest
  Pritchard　yr　buten！　　And　you　stand　there　as　if　you　had　not　disgraced
  yourself　for　ever　and　ever　with　your　accursed　wiving！　　And　the　fair
  harlot　sits　there；　in　her　mocking　modesty；　practising　the　mimming
  airs　that　will　become　her　state　as　future　Lady　of　Bodowen。　　But　I
  will　move　heaven　and　earth　before　that　false　woman　darken　the　doors
  of　my　father's　house　as　mistress！〃
  All　this　was　said　with　such　rapidity　that　Owen　had　no　time　for　the
  words　that　thronged　to　his　lips。　　〃Father！〃　（he　burst　forth　at
  length）　〃Father；　whosoever　told　you　that　Nest　Pritchard　was　a　harlot
  told　you　a　lie　as　false　as　hell！　　Ay！　a　lie　as　false　as　hell！〃　he
  added；　in　a　voice　of　thunder；　while　he　advanced　a　step　or　two　nearer
  to　the　Squire。　　And　then；　in　a　lower　tone；　he　said　…
  〃She　is　as　pure　as　your　own　wife；　nay；　God　help　me！　as　the　dear；
  precious　mother　who　brought　me　forth；　and　then　left　mewith　no
  refuge　in　a　mother's　heartto　struggle　on　through　life　alone。　　I
  tell　you　Nest　is　as　pure　as　that　dear；　dead　mother！〃
  〃Foolpoor　fool！〃
  At　this　moment　the　childthe　little　Owenwho　had　kept　gazing　from
  one　angry　countenance　to　the　other；　and　with　earnest　look；　trying　to
  understand　what　had　brought　the　fierce　glare　into　the　face　where　till
  now　he　had　read　nothing　but　love；　in　some　way　attracted　the　Squire's
  attention；　and　increased　his　wrath。
  〃Yes；〃　he　continued；　〃poor；　weak　fool　that　you　are；　hugging　the　child
  of　another　as　if　it　were　your　own　offspring！〃　　Owen　involuntarily
  caressed　the　affrighted　child；　and　half　smiled　at　the　implication　of
  his　father's　words。　　This　the　Squire　perceived；　and　raising　his　voice
  to　a　scream　of　rage；　he　went　on：
  〃I　bid　you；　if　you　call　yourself　my　son；　to　cast　away　that　miserable；
  shameless　woman's　offspring；　cast　it　away　this　instantthis
  instant！〃
  In　this　ungovernable　rage；　seeing　that　Owen　was　far　from　complying
  with　his　command；　he　snatched　the　poor　infant　from　the　loving　arms
  that　held　it；　and　throwing　it　to　his　mother；　left　the　house
  inarticulate　with　fury。
  Nestwho　had　been　pale　and　still　as　marble　during　this　terrible
  dialogue；　looking　on　and　listening　as　if　fascinated　by　the　words　that
  smote　her　heartopened　her　arms　to　receive　and　cherish　her　precious
  babe；　but　the　boy　was　not　destined　to　reach　the　white　refuge　of　her
  breast。　　The　furious　action　of　the　Squire　had　been　almost　without
  aim；　and　the　infant　fell　against　the　sharp　edge　of　the　dresser　down
  on　to　the　stone　floor。
  Owen　sprang　up　to　take　the　child；　but　he　lay　so　still；　so　motionless；
  that　the　awe　of　death　came　over　the　father；　and　he　stooped　down　to
  gaze　more　closely。　　At　that　moment；　the　upturned；　filmy　eyes　rolled
  convulsivelya　spasm　passed　along　the　bodyand　the　lips；　yet　warm
  with　kissing；　quivered　into　everlasting　rest。
  A　word　from　her　husband　told　Nest　all。　　She　slid　down　from　her　seat；
  and　lay　by　her　little　son　as　corpse…like　as　he；　unheeding　all　the
  agonizing　endearments　and　passionate　adjurations　of　her　husband。　　And
  that　poor；　desolate　husband　and　father！　　Scarce　one　little　quarter　of
  an　hour；　and　he　had　been　so　blessed　in　his　consciousness　of　love！　the
  bright　promise　of　many　years　on　his　infant's　face；　and　the　new；　fresh
  soul　beaming　forth　in　its　awakened　intelligence。　　And　there　it　was；
  the　little　clay　image；　that　would　never　more　gladden　up　at　the　sight
  of　him；　nor　stretch　forth　to　meet　his　embrace；　whose　inarticulate；
  yet　most　eloquent　cooings　might　haunt　him　in　his　dreams；　but　would
  never　more　be　heard　in　waking　life　again！　　And　by　the　dead　babe；
  almost　as　utterly　insensate；　the　poor　mother　had　fallen　in　a　merciful
  faintthe　slandered；　heart…pierced　Nest！　　Owen　struggled　against　the
  sickness　that　came　over　him；　and　busied　himself　in　vain　attempts　at
  her　restoration。
  It　was　now　near　noon…day；　and　Ellis　Pritchard　came　home；　little
  dreaming　of　the　sight　that　awaited　him；　but　though　stunned；　he　was
  able　to　take　more　effectual　measures　for　his　poor　daughter's　recovery
  than　Owen　had　done。
  By…and…by　she　showed　symptoms　of　returning　sense；　and　was　placed　in
  her　own　little　bed　in　a　darkened　room；　where；　without　ever　waking　to
  complete　consciousness；　she　fell　asleep。　　Then　it　was　that　her
  husband；　suffocated　by　pressure　of　miserable　thought；　gently　drew　his
  hand　from　her　tightened　clasp；　and　printing　one　long　soft　kiss　on　her
  white　waxen　forehead；　hastily　stole　out　of　the　room；　and　out　of　the
  house。
  Near　the　base　of　Moel　Gestit　might　be　a　quarter　of　a　mile　from　Ty
  Glaswas　a　little　neglected　solitary　copse；　wild　and　tangled　with
  the　trailing　branches　of　the　dog…rose　and　the　tendrils　of　the　white
  bryony。　　Toward　the　middle　of　this　thicket　a　deep　crystal　poola
  clear　mirror　for　the　blue　heavens　aboveand　round　the　margin　floated
  the　broad　green　leaves　of　the　water…lily；　and　when　the　regal　sun
  shone　down　in　his　noonday　glory　the　flowers　arose　from　their　cool
  depths　to　welcome　and　greet　him。　　The　copse　was　musical　with　many
  sounds；　the　warbling　of　birds　rejoicing　in　its　shades；　the　ceaseless
  hum　of　the　insects　that　hovered　over　the　pool；　the　chime　of　the
  distant　waterfall；　the　occasional　bleating　of　the　sheep　from　the
  mountaintop；　were　all　blended　into　the　delicious　harmony　of　nature。
  It　had　been　one　of　Owen's　favourite　resorts　when　he　had　been　a　lonely
  wanderera　pilgrim　in　search　of　love　in　the　years　gone　by。　　And
  thither　he　went；　as　if　by　instinct；　when　he　left　Ty　Glas；　quelling
  the　uprising　agony　till　he　should　reach　that　little　solitary　spot。
  It　was　the　time　of　day　when　a　change　in　the　aspect　of　the　weather　so
  frequently　takes　place；　and　the　little　pool　was　no　longer　the
  reflection　of　a　blue　and　sunny　sky：　　it　sent　back　the　dark　and　slaty
  clouds　above；　and；　every　now　and　then；　a　rough　gust　shook　the　painted
  autumn　leaves　from　their　branches；　and　all　other　music　was　lost　in
  the　sound　of　the　wild　winds　piping　down　from　the　moorlands；　which　lay
  up　and　beyond　the　clefts　in　the　mountain…side。　　Presently　the　rain
  came　on　and　beat　down　in　torrents。
  But　Owen　heeded　it　not。　　He　sat　on　the　dank　ground；　h