for　the　newly…married　wife　was　all　in　all　to　the　Squire；　and　his　son
  felt　himself　almost　a　cipher；　where　he　had　so　long　been　everything。
  The　lady　herself　had　ever　the　softest　consideration　for　her　stepson；
  almost　too　obtrusive　was　the　attention　paid　to　his　wishes；　but　still
  he　fancied　that　the　heart　had　no　part　in　the　winning　advances。　　There
  was　a　watchful　glance　of　the　eye　that　Owen　once　or　twice　caught　when
  she　had　imagined　herself　unobserved；　and　many　other　nameless　little
  circumstances；　that　gave　him　a　strong　feeling　of　want　of　sincerity　in
  his　stepmother。　　Mrs。　Owen　brought　with　her　into　the　family　her
  little　child　by　her　first　husband；　a　boy　nearly　three　years　old。　　He
  was　one　of　those　elfish；　observant；　mocking　children；　over　whose
  feelings　you　seem　to　have　no　control：　　agile　and　mischievous；　his
  little　practical　jokes；　at　first　performed　in　ignorance　of　the　pain
  he　gave；　but　afterward　proceeding　to　a　malicious　pleasure　in
  suffering；　really　seemed　to　afford　some　ground　to　the　superstitious
  notion　of　some　of　the　common　people　that　he　was　a　fairy　changeling。
  Years　passed　on；　and　as　Owen　grew　older　he　became　more　observant。　　He
  saw；　even　in　his　occasional　visits　at　home　（for　from　school　he　had
  passed　on　to　college）；　that　a　great　change　had　taken　place　in　the
  outward　manifestations　of　his　father's　character；　and；　by　degrees；
  Owen　traced　this　change　to　the　influence　of　his　stepmother；　so
  slight；　so　imperceptible　to　the　common　observer；　yet　so　resistless　in
  its　effects。　　Squire　Griffiths　caught　up　his　wife's　humbly　advanced
  opinions；　and；　unawares　to　himself；　adopted　them　as　his　own；　defying
  all　argument　and　opposition。　　It　was　the　same　with　her　wishes；　they
  met　their　fulfilment；　from　the　extreme　and　delicate　art　with　which
  she　insinuated　them　into　her　husband's　mind；　as　his　own。　　She
  sacrificed　the　show　of　authority　for　the　power。　　At　last；　when　Owen
  perceived　some　oppressive　act　in　his　father's　conduct　toward　his
  dependants；　or　some　unaccountable　thwarting　of　his　own　wishes；　he
  fancied　he　saw　his　stepmother's　secret　influence　thus　displayed；
  however　much　she　might　regret　the　injustice　of　his　father's　actions
  in　her　conversations　with　him　when　they　were　alone。　　His　father　was
  fast　losing　his　temperate　habits；　and　frequent　intoxication　soon　took
  its　usual　effect　upon　the　temper。　　Yet　even　here　was　the　spell　of　his
  wife　upon　him。　　Before　her　he　placed　a　restraint　upon　his　passion；
  yet　she　was　perfectly　aware　of　his　irritable　disposition；　and
  directed　it　hither　and　thither　with　the　same　apparent　ignorance　of
  the　tendency　of　her　words。
  Meanwhile　Owen's　situation　became　peculiarly　mortifying　to　a　youth
  whose　early　remembrances　afforded　such　a　contrast　to　his　present
  state。　　As　a　child；　he　had　been　elevated　to　the　consequence　of　a　man
  before　his　years　gave　any　mental　check　to　the　selfishness　which　such
  conduct　was　likely　to　engender；　he　could　remember　when　his　will　was
  law　to　the　servants　and　dependants；　and　his　sympathy　necessary　to　his
  father：　　now　he　was　as　a　cipher　in　his　father's　house；　and　the
  Squire；　estranged　in　the　first　instance　by　a　feeling　of　the　injury　he
  had　done　his　son　in　not　sooner　acquainting　him　with　his　purposed
  marriage；　seemed　rather　to　avoid　than　to　seek　him　as　a　companion；　and
  too　frequently　showed　the　most　utter　indifference　to　the　feelings　and
  wishes　which　a　young　man　of　a　high　and　independent　spirit　might　be
  supposed　to　indulge。
  Perhaps　Owen　was　not　fully　aware　of　the　force　of　all　these
  circumstances；　for　an　actor　in　a　family　drama　is　seldom　unimpassioned
  enough　to　be　perfectly　observant。　　But　he　became　moody　and　soured；
  brooding　over　his　unloved　existence；　and　craving　with　a　human　heart
  after　sympathy。
  This　feeling　took　more　full　possession　of　his　mind　when　he　had　left
  college；　and　returned　home　to　lead　an　idle　and　purposeless　life。　　As
  the　heir；　there　was　no　worldly　necessity　for　exertion：　　his　father
  was　too　much　of　a　Welsh　squire　to　dream　of　the　moral　necessity；　and
  he　himself　had　not　sufficient　strength　of　mind　to　decide　at　once　upon
  abandoning　a　place　and　mode　of　life　which　abounded　in　daily
  mortifications；　yet　to　this　course　his　judgment　was　slowly　tending；
  when　some　circumstances　occurred　to　detain　him　at　Bodowen。
  It　was　not　to　be　expected　that　harmony　would　long　be　preserved；　even
  in　appearance；　between　an　unguarded　and　soured　young　man；　such　as
  Owen；　and　his　wary　stepmother；　when　he　had　once　left　college；　and
  come；　not　as　a　visitor；　but　as　the　heir　to　his　father's　house。　　Some
  cause　of　difference　occurred；　where　the　woman　subdued　her　hidden
  anger　sufficiently　to　become　convinced　that　Owen　was　not　entirely　the
  dupe　she　had　believed　him　to　be。　　Henceforward　there　was　no　peace
  between　them。　　Not　in　vulgar　altercations　did　this　show　itself；　but
  in　moody　reserve　on　Owen's　part；　and　in　undisguised　and　contemptuous
  pursuance　of　her　own　plans　by　his　stepmother。　　Bodowen　was　no　longer
  a　place　where；　if　Owen　was　not　loved　or　attended　to；　he　could　at
  least　find　peace；　and　care　for　himself：　　he　was　thwarted　at　every
  step；　and　in　every　wish；　by　his　father's　desire；　apparently；　while
  the　wife　sat　by　with　a　smile　of　triumph　on　her　beautiful　lips。
  So　Owen　went　forth　at　the　early　day　dawn；　sometimes　roaming　about　on
  the　shore　or　the　upland；　shooting　or　fishing；　as　the　season　might　be；
  but　oftener　〃stretched　in　indolent　repose〃　on　the　short；　sweet　grass；
  indulging　in　gloomy　and　morbid　reveries。　　He　would　fancy　that　this
  mortified　state　of　existence　was　a　dream；　a　horrible　dream；　from
  which　he　should　awake　and　find　himself　again　the　sole　object　and
  darling　of　his　father。　　And　then　he　would　start　up　and　strive　to
  shake　off　the　incubus。　　There　was　the　molten　sunset　of　his　childish
  memory；　the　gorgeous　crimson　piles　of　glory　in　the　west；　fading　away
  into　the　cold　calm　light　of　the　rising　moon；　while　here　and　there　a
  cloud　floated　across　the　western　heaven；　like　a　seraph's　wing；　in　its
  flaming　beauty；　the　earth　was　the　same　as　in　his　childhood's　days；
  full　of　gentle　evening　sounds；　and　the　harmonies　of　twilightthe
  breeze　came　sweeping　low　over　the　heather　and　blue…bells　by　his　side；
  and　the　turf　was　sending　up　its　evening　incense　of　perfume。　　But
  life；　and　heart；　and　hope　were　changed　for　ever　since　those　bygone
  days！
  Or　he　would　seat　himself　in　a　favourite　niche　of　the　rocks　on　Moel
  Gest；　hidden　by　a　stunted　growth　of　the　whitty；　or　mountain…ash；　from
  general　observation；　with　a　rich…tinted　cushion　of　stone…crop　for　his
  feet；　and　a　straight　precipice　of　rock　rising　just　above。　　Here　would
  he　sit　for　hours；　gazing　idly　at　the　bay　below　with　its　back…ground
  of　purple　hills；　and　the　little　fishing…sail　on　its　bosom；　showing
  white　in　the　sunbeam；　and　gliding　on　in　such　harmony　with　the　quiet
  beauty　of　the　glassy　sea；　or　he　would　pull　out　an　old　school…volume；
  his　companion　for　years；　and　in　morbid　accordance　with　the　dark
  legend　that　still　lurked　in　the　recesses　of　his　minda　shape　of
  gloom　in　those　innermost　haunts　awaiting　its　time　to　come　forth　in
  distinct　outlinewould　he　turn　to　the　old　Greek　dramas　which　treat
  of　a　family　foredoomed　by　an　avenging　Fate。　　The　worn　page　opened　of
  itself　at　the　play　of　the　OEdipus　Tyrannus；　and　Owen　dwelt　with　the
  craving　disease　upon　the　prophecy　so　nearly　resembling　that　which
  concerned　himself。　　With　his　consciousness　of　neglect；　there　was　a
  sort　of　self…flattery　in　the　consequence　which　the　legend　gave　him。
  He　almost　wondered　how　they　durst；　with　slights　and　insults；　thus
  provoke　the　Avenger。
  The　days　drifted　onward。　　Often　he　would　vehemently　pursue　some
  sylvan　sport；　till　thought　and　feeling　were　lost　in　the　violence　of
  bodily　exertion。　　Occasionally　his　evenings　were　spent　at　a　small
  public…house；　such　as　stood　by　the　unfrequented　wayside；　where　the
  welcome；　hearty；　though　bought；　seemed　so　strongly　to　contrast　with
  the　gloomy　negligence　of　homeunsympathising　home。
  One　evening　（Owen　might　be　four　or　five…and…twenty）；　wearied　with　a
  day's　shooting　on　the　Clenneny　Moors；　he　passed　by　the　open　door　of
  〃The　Goat〃　at　Penmorfa。　　The　light　and　the　cheeriness　within　tempted
  him；　poor　self…exhausted　man！　as　it　has　done　many　a　one　more　wretched
  in　worldly　circumstances；　to　step　in；　and　take　his　evening　meal　where
  at　least　his　presence　was　of　some　consequence。　　It　was　a　busy　day　in
  that　little　hostel。　　A　flock　of　sheep；　amounting　to　some　hundreds；
  had　arrived　at　Penmorfa；　on　their　road　to　England；　and　thronged　the
  space　before　the　house。　　Inside　was　the　shrewd；　kind…hearted　hostess；
  bustling　to　and　fro；　with　merry　greetings　for　every　tired　drover　who
  was　to　pass　the　night　in　her　house；　while　the　sheep　were　penned　in　a
  field　close　by。　　Ever　and　anon；　she　kept　attending　to　the　second
  crowd　of　guests；　who　were　celebrating　a　rural　wedding　in　her　house。
  It　was　busy　work　to　Martha　Thomas；　yet　her　smile　never　flagged；　and
  when　Owen　Griffiths　had　finished　his　evening　meal　s