And as Valmai partook of her tea and bread and butter and ham, even his
hospitable feelings were satisfied.
"Now I'm going to ring for Mrs. Finch to take these things away, uncle;
no more books, mind!"
"No, no," he said, laughing; "she's had four to-day, and a pair of
slippers, and that'll do for one day. After all, she's a good ole
sole! though why sole more than whiting or mackerel Ay never could make
ewt. She knows me and my ways, may dear, and Ay pay her well. Eight
shillings a week regular! and she only comes at ten and leaves at
faive. Oh! bless you, she knows when she's well off, or she wouldn't
put up with the books and slippers. Ay know 'em!" he added, with a
shrewd wink, which set Valmai laughing again. When Mrs. Finch came in
for the tray he was quite amiable. "Well, ole gel," he said, "this is
the night for your wages, isn't it?"
"Iss, sir," said the woman, with a sniff and a bob curtsey.
"There's my purse. Count it out to her, may dear. Eight shillings,
every penny, and there's a shilling overhead for good luck, Mrs. Finch,
becos the lil gel has come to manage the ship for us. Now remember,
she's capting now and you're the mate."
"Iss, sir, and thank you," said Mrs. Finch, disappearing with practised
celerity through the doorway.
And so Valmai took her place at once as "captain" of her uncle's house,
and, in spite of his gruff ways and his tremendous voice, she felt more
at home with him than with Essec Powell, for here her presence was
valued, and she felt sure that she had a place in the old man's warm
heart.
She slept heavily through the next night, and in the morning awoke
refreshed, and with a feeling of brightness and cheerfulness which she
had not expected to feel so soon. Her new life would give her plenty
to do, to fill up every hour and to drive out all useless regrets and
repinings.
Deep in her heart lay the one unsatisfied longing. Nothing could alter
that; nothing could heal the wound that Cardo's departure had made
except the anticipation of his return. Yes, that day would come! and
until then she would bear her sorrow with a brave heart and smiling
face. The weather continued rough and stormy, and, looking out from
her bedroom window, the grey skies and windswept streets made no
cheerful impression upon her. The people, the hurrying footsteps, and
the curious Pembrokeshire accent, gave her the impression of having
travelled to a foreign country, all was so different to the peaceful
seclusion of the Berwen banks. It was a "horrid dull town," she
thought and with the consciousness of the angry white harbour which she
had caught sight of on her arrival, her heart sank within her; but she
bravely determined to put a good face on her sorrow. On the second
morning after her arrival she was sitting on the window-seat in her
uncle's room, and reading to him out of the newspaper, when the bang of
the front door and a quick step on the stair announced the doctor's
arrival.