THE
PETERITEI Vol.. III.
MARCH, 1881 .
No . 19.
PLAS MAWR : A STORY OF CONWAY. EEN from across the bay, when the tide has covered the mud and sand and seaweed that lie exposed at low water, Conway town makes as sweet a picture as one could wish . The low houses creeping down to the water's edge ; the fishing boats rising and falling slowly with the quiet waves ; above, the grey ivied town-walls and the glorious castle itself, none of its beauty taken away even by the addition of modern bridges ; behind, wooded hills, and to left and right the estuary, narrowing on the one hand into a river, widening on the other to the sea . Such are some of the elements of the scene . But when you have crossed the bridge and passed under the castle walls, something is gone of the halo with which distance crowned the town. There are not many old houses left, and the very commonplace inns and shops have not an inviting appearance . Still there are a few buildings of great interest to the antiquarian, and foremost among these is the Plas Mawr in the High-street . Some of those who have visited the old mansion for the sake of the fantastic carving with which the interior walls are decorated, will doubtless have been both surprised and pleased at being met by a young lady with delightfully English speech and ways, instead of by an old crone who is as garrulous as her scant acquaintance with the English tongue will allow. Winifred Meredith is not, as a matter of fact, an Englishwoman. Her family have for long inhabited the Plas Mawr . How they first came into the mansion that Sir Robert Wynn built in the year of our Lord, 1577, I do not know ; but there they are, and there they will probably remain—at any rate, until the death of Winifred's grandmother, who would never tolerate the idea of
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