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How often do we see giddy； coquetting； restless girls become sobered
by marriage？ A great object in life is decided； one on which their
thoughts have been running in all their vagaries； and they seem to
verify the beautiful fable of Undine。 A new soul beams out in the
gentleness and repose of their future lives。 An indescribable
softness and tenderness takes place of the wearying vanity of their
former endeavours to attract admiration。 Something of this sort took
place in Nest Pritchard。 If at first she had been anxious to attract
the young Squire of Bodowen； long before her marriage this feeling
had merged into a truer love than she had ever felt before； and now
that he was her own； her husband； her whole soul was bent toward
making him amends； as far as in her lay； for the misery which； with a
woman's tact； she saw that he had to endure at his home。 Her
greetings were abounding in delicately…expressed love； her study of
his tastes unwearying； in the arrangement of her dress； her time； her
very thoughts。
No wonder that he looked back on his wedding…day with a thankfulness
which is seldom the result of unequal marriages。 No wonder that his
heart beat aloud as formerly when he wound up the little path to Ty
Glas； and sawkeen though the winter's wind might bethat Nest was
standing out at the door to watch for his dimly…seen approach； while
the candle flared in the little window as a beacon to guide him
aright。
The angry words and unkind actions of home fell deadened on his
heart； he thought of the love that was surely his； and of the new
promise of love that a short time would bring forth； and he could
almost have smiled at the impotent efforts to disturb his peace。
A few more months； and the young father was greeted by a feeble
little cry； when he hastily entered Ty Glas； one morning early； in
consequence of a summons conveyed mysteriously to Bodowen； and the
pale mother； smiling； and feebly holding up her babe to its father's
kiss； seemed to him even more lovely than the bright gay Nest who had
won his heart at the little inn of Penmorfa。
But the curse was at work！ The fulfilment of the prophecy was nigh
at hand！
CHAPTER II。
It was the autumn after the birth of their boy； it had been a
glorious summer； with bright； hot； sunny weather； and now the year
was fading away as seasonably into mellow days； with mornings of
silver mists and clear frosty nights。 The blooming look of the time
of flowers； was past and gone； but instead there were even richer
tints abroad in the sun…coloured leaves； the lichens； the golden
blossomed furze； if it was the time of fading； there was a glory in
the decay。
Nest； in her loving anxiety to surround her dwelling with every charm
for her husband's sake； had turned gardener； and the little corners
of the rude court before the house were filled with many a delicate
mountain…flower； transplanted more for its beauty than its rarity。
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 ang