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'
All's fair in love and war,' he told her wickedly, and grinned. 'Maybe I have an advantage over him there.'

'You certainly haven't,' she retorted, 'and I enjoy going out with Owen, so I don't see why I should feel guilty about it; I'm going out with him again on my next free day.'

His only reply was a speculative look that made her feel uneasy and another wide grin.

Her next free time was on the following Tuesday and she found herself looking forward to seeing Owen again, though whether it was because of his own personal charm or the thought of being made much of and being free for several hours she could not have said with certainty. It was not possible for her to have a morning free as Emlyn always exercised in the mornings and the programme was as regular as Doctor Neath had insisted. He was progressing well and could now spend some time partially propped up in bed, an advance that worked entirely in his favour since it made him less helpless and better able to reach out and claim her hands whenever she came within reach.

'Must you go out?' he pleaded when she looked in on him before going out to meet Owen on the Tuesday afternoon.

‘Yes, I must, Emlyn; you know what your father said about it, I expect he'll come and spend some time with you during the afternoon, and Dai will too if you ask him. Or would you like me to get him up here now, before I go out?' He shook his head, watching her as she laid out everything he would possibly need while she was gone. 'There you are,' she said. 'You should be all right now until I get back, and Mrs Beeley will get you anything you can't see there, don't try to reach for it yourself. Now, have you everything you need?'

He looked up at her, cool and lovely in a pale blue dress that flattered her eyes and her hair, and took her hands in his as he often did but with a different intention that she did not anticipate. His move was sudden and surprisingly strong for a man partially helpless as he pulled her across him until he could put his arms round her and when she tried to protest his mouth silenced her, holding her until she was breathless.

'
Let me go!' she whispered angrily when she was able. 'Let me go, Emlyn! If you don't I can hurt you, you know, but I don't want to.' It would have been possible to get away from him, but only by pushing hard against him, and in his position it was not the wisest or the kindest thing to do. When he released her she straightened up, smoothing down her dress, brushing her hair from her flushed face and as she half turned, she saw from the corner of her eye, the bedroom door closing.

Emlyn looked sulkily triumphant as he looked at her; he obviously had no regrets for having behaved as he did, but was disappointed at her reaction. She realized that he too must have seen the movement that had caught her own eye for he was looking at the closed door curiously, as if he doubted what he had seen. 'Who was it?' he asked, and she shook her head.

'I—I don't know. Mrs Beeley perhaps.' She did not really believe that it held been the housekeeper withdrawing so silently, but the alternative was either Dai Hughes or Evan Davies, and the latter did not bear thinking about. Dai Hughes never came up here unless he was called and Mrs Beeley seldom did either, so it must have been Evan Davies.

'It could have been your father,' she said, voicing her thoughts, and he shrugged.

'Perhaps,' he agreed, as if it mattered little or not at all, Helen thought, and she flushed at the uncaring attitude.

‘You might have a little more consideration,' she said crossly. 'What on earth will Mr Davies think?'

‘That I love you?' he suggested, and added a little impatiently, ‘Oh, for heaven's sake, Helen, no one will blame you because I kissed you.' The irrepressible grin appeared again as she glared at him. 'No one will blame me either, certainly not Evan.'

‘He blames me for— Oh, never mind!' she said crossly. ‘I'm going out now before Owen thinks I'm not coming.' She went out without saying goodbye to him, fervently hoping that it had not been Evan Davies who had closed the door after witnessing Emlyn's unprecedented behaviour, for she would find it almost impossible to face him at dinner that evening if it had been.

There was no sign of anyone at all when Helen went downstairs and she breathed a sigh of relief, she had no desire to meet anyone at that moment, least of all her employer. There was one aspect of the affair that puzzled her, and that was why, if it had been Evan Davies at the door of Emlyn's room, he had not reacted to the scene in a more positive way. She would have expected him to be at least coldly angry, but his quiet withdrawal was out of character for the Evan Davies that she thought she knew. Perhaps he had been too stunned to do more at that moment, but would take it up with her when she returned that evening. It was possible, she supposed, that he would tell her to go and in the circumstances it might be the only solution.

She sighed as she opened the door and went down the steps. It could be very difficult for her, and Emlyn had very little consideration for her feelings considering his protestations of love for her. Unwillingly she remembered Tracey Owen and wondered just how deeply he had once imagined himself in love with the girl. He was a more complex character even than his father.

The afternoon was fine and clear and she felt some of her gloom disappear as she walked down the drive towards the gates where Owen waited. He bent his head and kissed her cheek in a way quite different from Emlyn's display earlier. 'Hello, I began to wonder if you were coming. '

'I'm sorry,' she apologized, 'but Emlyn was being a little difficult.'

He glanced at her thoughtfully as he climbed into his seat. 'Hmm. Well, it's a lovely day for a picnic, and you can forget Master Emlyn and his tantrums for a bit. Mrs Jay has seen to it that we don't go hungry.' He indicated a huge basket on the back seat of the car.

'
You can see Mrs Jay's idea of a picnic for two.'

'Good heavens!' Helen laughed. 'There must be enough there to feed a regiment of people.'

He grinned good-humouredly. 'We'll manage, you wait and see. 'I always eat like a trooper when I've been in the open air.' They travelled at the same easy pace that they had before, fast enough to stir the heat laden air into a cooling breeze but not too fast for her to admire the scenery as they drove. He glanced at her once with a smile as they sped along. 'You don't find the sun too much?'

Helen shook her head. 'No, I revel in it, I'm a real sun-worshipper.'

He smiled. ‘I asked because I know that sometimes people with very fair skins like yours burn easily, and I should hate to spoil that lovely complexion.'

'
It won't spoil,' she assured him with a smile for the flattery. 'I've even been known to go brown in time.'

'
Gorgeous,' he said without looking at her. ‘A golden girl.' Once again she felt that delicious warm feeling of being flattered and appreciated, and it rid her of the last of her worry about Emlyn; she promptly forgot him. It was delightful to lay her head back on the ,seat of the car and let the sun warm her face and the wind toss her hair into a tumble of soft curls. Owen Neath, she decided, was very good for her; his admiration was gentle and sincere without being demanding as Emlyn's was. He would never grab at her as Emlyn had done earlier, nor sulk if her reaction was less than enthusiastic. She let the thought pass through her mind, then banished any further thought of Emlyn firmly.

'
What are we going to see?' she asked.

He shook his head, smiling to himself. 'I'm not going to tell you in case it doesn't happen. I may have chosen the wrong time, but I don't think so.'

'
But I may never know, if you are wrong,' she protested,
^€
and if you don't tell me I'll be in suspense for the rest of my life wondering what it was that I missed.'

Her protest and her dismay amused him and he laughed at her. 'If I'm wrong when we get there, then I'll tell you about it,' he promised, 'though it won't be the same as seeing it for yourself. How's that?'

'
It's very intriguing and I can't wait to get there.'

'
It won't be long now,' he said, smiling at her as she relaxed against the back of the seat, enjoying the sun and the wind, content to let things happen as they would, which was not as she had been for a long time.

The country they were going through was as lovely as anything they
had
seen
the first
time and was,
if
anything, more green and lush-looking. Sweeping meadows went right up the mountainsides, dotted with grazing sheep like moving specks of grubby cream against the green and grey. The sky was blue and hazy with the summer heat, but relieved by occasional wisps
of
cloud that drifted lazily about the highest points as
if
reluctant to leave.

'
Happy ?'

She turned her head and looked at him her eyes filled with the peace and loveliness that she had been watching and for a moment she made no reply, just smiling lazily content. 'Mmm. It's wonderful.'

He smiled his satisfaction as she returned to her contemplation of the country, letting the peace
and
tranquility of it and the motion of the car soothe her into almost a trance and she felt sleepy.

'
Is it far off?' she murmured in an effort to stay alert.

His mind had evidently followed her own into a dream, for he looked startled for a moment when she spoke. 'Is what far off?'

She laughed lazily. 'Where we're going,' she teased. 'Caderglynn, isn't it?'

'
Oh, yes, Caderglynn. It's not far now, only a few minutes.'

She stirred her lazy mind into activity. ‘What does it mean, Owen? Caderglynn? I know it must mean something, Welsh names always do, don't they? Are you Welsh enough to know?'

'
I am indeed,' he replied, laying stress on his usually almost non-existent accent. 'And most names mean something, not only the Welsh ones, they wouldn't have become names in the first place if they hadn't.'

She made a face at him. 'Of course,' she agreed, 'but I hadn't thought about it before. You're very knowledgeable, Mr Neath.'

'
You can blame my upbringing,' he laughed. 'My mother makes a hobby of the study of names and their meanings. I was brought up on it.'

'Right, then tell me what Caderglynn means.'

'Cader means seat or chair if you prefer it, so it's quite simple really. Seat of Glynn, the same as Cader Idris, you've heard of that, of course?'

'
Of course,' she echoed. 'And who or what was Glynn?'

'
I don't know,' he admitted. 'Some historic character thought to be worthy of preservation, I suppose.'

'
I'm glad you don't know,' she told him, laughing. 'That brings you down to my level.'

He grinned at her high spirits. 'Ah, but at least I know that he would have been a man from a valley, because Glyn means valley.'

'
Oh, very clever,' she allowed, and added mischievously, 'Then why did he have a mountain named after him?'

He was silent for a moment, seeking some answer to her question. 'I suppose because even men from the valley need seats to sit on sometimes,' he said at last, and joined in her delighted laughter.

They swung round another bend in the tree-lined road and he pointed with one hand ahead of them. 'There!' he cried with such suddenness that she started. 'I wasn't wrong after all!'

She looked ahead as they approached a lake on their right and an open sweep of valley and mountain to their left. The lake was deep and clear with the sunlight glinting on the rippling surface, stirred by heaven knew what and sparkling as if it was lit from underneath. She was deaf for a moment with the silence when he stopped the engine and then gradually she could distinguish faint distant sounds—faint whistles and the soothing, sleepy sound of sheep baaing.

The valley to their left swept upwards to the mountainside, green and grey and dappled with shifting patterns of dots as hundreds of sheep moved slowly along, like a sea of grubby wool, weaving about and flowing across the face of the mountain, their movement seeming without purpose, ever-changing and patterned occasionally with a sudden dart in another direction only to be turned back again.

Near the top of the mass Helen could just make out a man and a dog, their combined efforts keeping the movement going, moving the woolly cloud along slowly but surely in the direction they were required to go. Further down another pair, man and dog, kept them moving, controlling the unthinking obedience of the mass moving them ever downwards to where another man and his dog sweated in the sun as they concentrated on the enormity of the task they were performing.

It could have been a moving picture from this distance, the haze of summer giving the whole scene a misty, unreal look as the black and white bodies of the dogs streaked swift and sure in answer to the whistles of the men and the sheep "in turn obeyed the crouching urgency of the dogs. The size of the flock dwarfed the six creatures who controlled it and made it seem unbelievable that they could hope to hold and guide the flowing tide of life that poured down the slope, slowly but inexorably.

Helen gazed at them with fascination. 'It's—it's fantastic!' she gasped, taking her gaze for a brief moment from the incredible sight, 'I would never have believed it was possible. What are they doing it for, Owen? There must be hundreds of sheep there.'

'Thousands,' he said, his own eyes fixed fascinatedly on the operation. 'They're rounding them up for shearing and they make a combined operation of it. Three shepherds, three dogs; it's quite a job.'

'
It must be tremendous,' she agreed, turning back in time to see a hitch in the smooth working of the flock. 'Oh, dear, something seems to have gone wrong.' She narrowed her eyes against the brightness of the sun and could almost smell the dust that rose from the milling hooves as it added to the haze on the mountainside. She could see the six figures with amazing clarity considering the conditions and she noticed one of the dogs, standing beside his master during the temporary standstill, glance up at the man as if in question.