His
brown wrinkled face and ruddy cheeks were like a shrivelled apple, his
shrewd inquisitive eyes peered out through a pair of large brass-rimmed
spectacles, and, to judge by his expression, the view they got of the
world in general was not satisfactory.

It was a day of brilliant sunshine and intense heat, but through the
open shop door the sea wind came in with refreshing coolness. Behind
the counter Jos Hughes measured and weighed lazily, throwing in with
his short weight a compliment, or a screw of peppermints, as the case
required.

"Who is this coming up in the dust?" he mumbled.

"'Tis Morva of the moor," said a woman standing in the doorway and
shading her eyes with her hand. "What does she want, I wonder?
There's a merry lass she is!"

"Oh! day or night, sun or snow don't matter to her," said Jos Hughes.

At this moment the subject of their remarks entered the shop, and,
sitting on a sack of maize, let her arms fall on her lap. She was
quickly followed by a large black sheep dog, who bounded in and,
placing his fore-paws on the counter, with tongue hanging out, looked
at Jos Hughes intently.

"Down, Tudor!" said the girl, and he sprang on a sack of peas beside
her.

The mountain wind blowing in through the open doorway touzled the
little curls that were so unruly in Morva's hair; it was neither gold
nor ebony, but, looking at its rich tints, one was irresistibly
reminded of the ripe corn in harvest fields, while the blue eyes were
like the corn flowers in their vivid colouring.

"How are they at Garthowen?" asked Fani "bakkare."

"Oh! they are all well there," answered the girl, panting and fanning
herself with her sun-bonnet, "except the white calf, and he is better."

"There's hot it is!" said Fani, taking up her basket of groceries.

"Oh! 'tis hot!" said the girl, "but there's a lovely wind from the sea."

"What are you wanting to-day, Morva?" said Jos.

"A ball of red worsted for Ann, and an ounce of 'bacco for 'n'wncwl
Ebben, and oh! a ha'porth of sweets for Tudor."

The dog wagged his tail approvingly as Jos reached down from the shelf
a bottle of pink lollipops, for, though a wild country dog, he had
depraved tastes in the matter of sweets.

"There's serious you all look! what's the matter with you?" said the
girl, looking smilingly round.

"Nothing is the matter as I know," said Fani, "only there's always
plenty of trouble flying about. We can't be all so free from care as
you,