', Miss Wenna, and yue be agwoin'
for a drive."

"And how is your daughter-in-law, Mr. Cornish? Has she sold the pig
yet?"

"Naw, she hasn't sold the peg. If yue be agwoin' thrue Trevalga, Miss
Wenna, just yue stop and have a look at that peg: yue'll be 'mazed to
see en. 'Tis many a year agone sence there has been such a peg by me.
And perhaps yue'd take the laste bit o' refrashment, Miss Wenna, as yue
go by: Jane would get yue a coop o' tay to once."

"Thank you, Mr. Cornish, I'll look in and see the pig some other time:
to-day we sha'n't be going as far as Trevalga."

"Oh, won't you?" said Master Harry in a low voice as he drove on.
"You'll be in Trevalga before you know where you are."

Which was literally the case. Wenna was so much engaged in her talk
with Mrs. Trelyon that she did not notice how far away they were
getting from Eglosilyan; but Mabyn and her companion knew. They were
now on the high uplands by the coast, driving between the beautiful
banks, which were starred with primroses and stitchwort and red
dead-nettle and a dozen other bright and tender-hued firstlings of the
year. The sun was warm on the hedges and the fields, but a cool breeze
blew about these lofty heights, and stirred Mabyn's splendid masses of
hair as they drove rapidly along. Far over on their right, beyond the
majestic wall of cliff, lay the great blue plain of the sea; and there
stood the bold brown masses of the Sisters Rocks, with a circle of
white foam round their base. As they looked down into the south the
white light was so fierce that they could but faintly discern objects
through it; but here and there they caught a glimpse of a square
church-tower or of a few rude cottages clustered on the high plain,
and these seemed to be of a transparent gray in the blinding glare of
the sun.

Then suddenly in front of them they found a deep chasm, with the white
road leading down through its cool shadows. There was the channel of
a stream, with the rocks looking purple amid the gray bushes; and
here were rich meadows, with cattle standing deep in the grass and the
daisies; and over there, on the other side, a strip of forest, with
the sunlight shining along one side of the tall and dark-green pines.
As they drove down into this place, which is called the Rocky Valley,
a magpie rose from one of the fields and flew up into the firs.

"That is sorrow," said Mabyn.

Another one rose and flew up to the same spot.

"And that is joy,