Mabyn was suddenly brought up in the middle of her voluble speech by the strange expression on her mother’s face.

“Oh, Mabyn, something dreadful has happened to our Wenna.”

Mabyn turned deadly white.  “Is she ill?” she said, almost in a whisper.

“No, not ill, but a great trouble has fallen on her.”

Then the mother, in a low voice, apparently fearful that any one should overhear, began to tell her younger daughter of all she had learnt within the past day or two—­how young Trelyon had been bold enough to tell Wenna that he loved her; how Wenna had dallied with her conscience and been loath to part with him; how at length she had as good as revealed to him that she loved him in return; and how she was now overwhelmed and crushed beneath a sense of her own faithlessness and the impossibility of making reparation to her betrothed.

“Only to think, Mabyn,” said the mother in accents of despair, “that all this distress should have come about in such a quiet and unexpected way!  Who could have foreseen it?  Why, of all the people in the world, you would have thought our Wenna was the least likely to have any misery of this sort; and many a time—­don’t you remember?—­I used to say it was so wise of her getting engaged to a prudent and elderly man, who would save her from the plagues and trials that young girls often suffer at the hands of their lovers.  I thought she was so comfortably settled.  Everything promised her a quiet and gentle life.  And now this sudden shock has come upon her, she seems to think she is not fit to live, and she goes on in such a wild way—­”

“Where is she?” Mabyn said abruptly.

“No, no, no!” the mother said anxiously, “you must not speak a word to her, Mabyn.  You must not let her know I have told you anything about it.  Leave her to herself, for a while at least:  if you speak to her, she will take it you mean to accuse her, for she says you warned her, and she would pay no heed.  Leave her to herself, Mabyn.”

“Then where is Mr. Trelyon?” said Mabyn, with some touch of indignation in her voice.  “What is he doing?  Is he leaving her to herself too?”

“I don’t know what you mean, Mabyn,” her mother said timidly.

“Why doesn’t he come forward like a man and marry her?” said Mabyn boldly.  “Yes, that is what I would do if I were a man.  She has sent him away?  Yes, of course:  that is right and proper.  And Wenna will go on doing what is right and proper, if you allow her, to the very end, and the end will be a lifetime of misery:  that’s all.  No, my notion is, that she should do something that is not right and is quite improper, if only it makes her happy; and you’ll see if I don’t get her to do it.  Why, mother, haven’t you had eyes to see that these two have been in love for years?  Nobody in the world had ever the least control over him but her:  he would do anything for Wenna; and she—­why she always came back