'And you won't forget about the pillows, miss?' said the old body.

'No, I won't,' Kathleen replied.

'She's such a funny old woman, Neville,' she said, when they met. And then she went on to repeat what the dame had told her about the pillows.

'Oh,' said Neville, 'they are all gossiping about it. It is nonsense--Mrs. Wynne wasn't out of her mind'.

'Then do you think it's no use looking anywhere?' said Kathleen.

'Certainly not in the pillows,' said Neville, laughing. 'I think we'd better have our dinner now, Kathie, don't you? Over there, just between this hill and the next, I should think there would be a nice place.'

And having found a snug corner, they established themselves comfortably.

'Were the caves nice?' asked Kathleen.

'Not very--at least, I didn't like to go very far alone. There was one that looked as if it would be very nice--a great, deep, black place, but one would need a light. I'll try to go again some day, if I can get anyone to go with me. It's not fit for girls.'

Suddenly Kathleen gave a deep sigh.

'What's the matter?' asked Neville.

'It's only what that old woman said. It's put it all into my head again,' said Kathleen. 'I should have liked to tell Phil we had searched _somewhere_.'

'Wait till she comes,' said Neville. 'She'll soon see for herself that there's _nowhere_ to search. I've thought and thought about it, and I'm sure aunty has done everything anybody could.'

So no more was said about it, and they finished their dinner comfortably. Then they set off again, and climbed the hill from whence they had been told the view was so beautiful. Nor were they disappointed--the day was unusually clear, with the clearness that tells of rain at no great distance, and on all sides they could see over many miles.

'How lovely the sea is!' said Kathleen. 'The only fault I can find with Ty-gwyn is that you can't see the sea from the house. Now that house over there, Neville--over towards the sea, but a good way from it--on the side of a hill,' and she pointed towards it, 'must have a lovely view of the sea. I wonder what house it is? It looks so pretty.'

'I know,' said Neville. 'It is the old farmer's. It is Dol-bach.'

'Old Farmer Davis's?' said Kathleen. 'Oh, that reminds me the old woman at the cottage said we should go to see him, and thank him for being so kind the day we came. Indeed, we should have gone already.'

'Did she say so?' said Neville; 'she must be rather an impertinent old woman. It's no business of hers.'

'Oh no, she isn't impertinent at all,' said Kathleen. '_She_ didn't say we should have gone already. That was only my own thought. She said he'd be "proud" to see us--I think that sounds very nice, Neville--and that Mrs. Wynne thought "a deal" of him and his wife. Supposing we go now, Neville, on our way home?'

'No,' said Neville. 'I don't think it would be right to go anywhere without asking Aunt Clotilda. But I daresay she'll let us go. I remember old Davis said something about knowing Mrs. Wynne very well.'

'We'll ask her,' said Kathie. 'It would be something nice to do, to keep my mind off Phil's coming. And we might dress nicely, Neville. It would be more of a compliment to them, you know, if we went nicely dressed--like paying a real call.'

They met Miss Clotilda coming to meet them, when, after a good long ramble among the hills, they made their way home.

'I have come along the road two or three times to look for you,' she said. 'Have you had a nice walk, and any adventures?'

'Oh, yes,' said Kathie, and she launched at once into an account of her old woman.

But Neville noticed that she did not mention the anecdote about the pillow. 'Perhaps it is better not to keep reminding aunty of it,' he thought. 'I am glad Kathie is so thoughtful.'

'And may we go to see Farmer Davis, aunty?' asked Kathie eagerly.

'Oh, certainly,' said Miss Clotilda. 'I was thinking of proposing it. It would have been no use going to-day, as both he and his wife were at Hafod Market, I know. There are many of our neighbours I should have liked to take you to see, both the gentlepeople and others; but it is impossible to go about much without a horse of any kind,' she ended, with a little sigh.

'May we go to Dol-bach to-morrow?' asked Kathie. 'I want to keep myself from fidgeting.'

Miss Clotilda could not help smiling at her.

'I have no objection,' she said, 'if the weather holds up; which, however, I have my doubts of.'

[Ill.u.s.tration]

And her doubts proved well founded. 'To-morrow' proved a very rainy day--a thoroughly and hopelessly rainy day, such as seldom is to be seen in the middle of summer, and Kathleen's spirits sank to zero. She was sure they were not going to have any more fine weather; sure a letter would come from Philippa's uncle refusing the invitation; and very angry with Neville for remarking that if the first prediction was fulfilled, it was almost to be hoped the second would come to pa.s.s also. And when the morning after broke again dull and gloomy, Miss Clotilda felt really distressed at Kathie's gloom.

'My dear,' she said, 'you must make an effort to be cheerful and patient. You cannot, at soonest, have an answer from Philippa till to-morrow, and you cannot go to Dol-bach to-day; even if the rain leaves off, the roads will be terribly bad. Try to think of something to do in the house that will occupy and interest you. I am almost sure that to-morrow will be fine.'

Kathleen listened respectfully enough, but with a most depressed look in her face, to the beginning of this speech. Half-way through it, however, her face suddenly cleared, and a light came into her eyes.

'Thank you, aunty,' she said. 'Yes, I have something I should like to do up in my own room. I won't grumble any more,' and off she set.

'She is a dear child,' thought her aunt. 'A word suffices with her.'

Poor Miss Clotilda! She scarcely knew her volatile, flighty little niece as yet.

CHAPTER X.

A PLAGUE OF FEATHERS.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Decorative A]

n hour or two later, Miss Clotilda, having completed her housekeeping arrangements for the day, went up to Kathie's room to see what she was about. Neville had gone off for a walk, as the rain was now slight, and of course, as he said himself, 'for a boy it was different.'

'Poor, dear child!' said Miss Clotilda, as she reached Kathleen's door; 'I hope she isn't feeling dull, all alone.'

The door was locked.

'Kathie,' she called, 'it is I--aunty.'

A scattering inside, and then Kathleen's voice, sounding rather odd, replied, 'In a moment, aunty. Oh dear, oh dear! I wish I'--

'What is the matter, Kathie? Open at once, my dear; you alarm me!' Miss Clotilda exclaimed.

Thus adjured, Kathleen had no choice. She drew the bolt; Miss Clotilda entered.

[Ill.u.s.tration: WHAT _WAS_ THE MATTER?]