'Come you, Netta, fach! He'll be here by now. Read you the letter.'

Netta pauses a moment to read a letter held out to her by Mrs Jenkins.

It runs thus:--

'I can't be with you to-day. Meet Netta at the appointed place, and walk to Tynewydd. I will be there with a carriage by six o'clock.--Yours, H.J.'

'See you, Netta, it isn't six yet.' Mrs Jenkins pulls out a large gold watch, which, while Netta was running on, she has managed to put back half-an-hour. 'Five-and-twenty minutes to six, see you.'

Netta turns again and hurries on.

'There is Jones Tynewydd. If he should see me,' says Netta. 'Do make haste, Aunt 'Lisbeth.'

They walk on for about a quarter of a mile, when carriage wheels are distinctly heard, and in a few moments a fly and pair is distinctly seen coming at great speed. The driver would have pa.s.sed them, but Mrs Jenkins calls out,--

'A gentleman for Tynewydd inside?' Upon which he pulls up. Howel is out of the fly, and Netta lifted in before she knows what she is about. Mrs Jenkins is put in almost as quickly, and the fly turned and off again in less time than it takes to write it.

'Howel, how could you? I was going back, and I wish I had,' sobs Netta.

Howel kisses her and tells her to be a good little cousin, and she shall see London in no time. She clings close to him, and hides her face on his shoulder and sobs on. He draws her to him, and lets her grief have way. Few words are spoken for a time, but at last Netta dries her tears and says,--

'I was so frightened, cousin, and I didn't think it would be so hard to leave mother without saying good-bye. Mother was always kind.'

'Hide you, Howel! hide you, Netta! there's Mr Jonathan Prothero,' says Mrs Jenkins, shrinking back into the corner of the fly.

Howel peeps out and sees Netta's worthy uncle, bag on back, setting forth on some archaeological search.

Howel and Netta lean back in the fly whilst he pa.s.ses, little thinking whom the vehicle contains.

'Uncle and aunt will be glad at least,' says Netta. 'Aunt says you are very clever and handsome, Howel, and wonders why father won't let us--'

'Marry, Netta--say the word. I suppose Aunt Jonathan found out my talents and beauty after I acquired my fortune.'

After driving about ten miles they stop to change horses, and in the course of three or four hours arrive at the Swansea railway station, newly erected within the last few months. The scene is equally new to Netta and Mrs Jenkins, and whilst Howel goes to take their tickets they stand wondering and admiring. Neither of them has ever travelled by rail, and both are equally nervous at the prospect. They are just in time for the express, and soon find themselves seated in a first-cla.s.s carriage. As it is a carriage of two compartments, Howel fastens the door between the two, draws down the blind, puts some coats on the fourth seat, and says they will now have it to themselves all the way to London.

Netta seizes his hand and screams when the steam whistle sounds, and his mother falls down upon him from the opposite seat He laughs aloud, and seems in such buoyant spirits that the women laugh too; and very soon Netta has quite forgotten her home, as with her hand clasped in Howel's he unfolds to her his future plans and arranges hers.

'Deet, and this is like a sofa in a drawing-room. I shall be asleep if I don't take care,' says Mrs Jenkins.

'The best thing you can do, mother. I will awake you when we get to Reading, where the biscuits are made you used to sell, faugh! and be sure to show you Windsor Castle.'

Mrs Jenkins obeys her son's wish, and is soon sleeping soundly.

Howel then gives Netta the following intelligence, which, as it interests her, we will hope may be interesting to her friends.

'The old gown you gave my mother, Netta, I sent to a celebrated house in town, and calling there the next day ordered a proper _trousseau_ to be made for you.'

'What's a _trousseau_, Howel?'

'You little dunce. Why, what we call a _stafell_ without the household furniture. So you will find a wedding dress and all kinds of dresses and garments without number awaiting you, for I gave the milliner _carte blanche_.'

'What's _carte blanche_, cousin? You are become so grand.'

'Never mind--white paper with two meanings. And here is a present to begin with.'

Howel takes a leather case from his pocket and puts it into Netta's hand. She opens it, and sees a beautiful little gold watch and chain.

'Oh, you dear, kind cousin, Howel!' she cries; her eyes sparkling with delight. 'I have longed for one all my life.'

'Will you go back again, Netta dear?' asks Howel archly.

The watch and chain are duly put on, and then Howel continues,--

'To-morrow you will have a hard day's work. You must purchase a great many things that will be necessary for travelling that I could not buy.

The rest we can get in Paris. I have invited my friends, Sir John and Lady Simpson, and their son and daughter, to the wedding, which I have fixed for the day after to-morrow. One of the reasons for my not being able to come to you yesterday was that I must be a fortnight in the parish where we are to be married before we are married. I just ran down by the night train, took the fly, and met you; and shall make up my lost night by sleeping in town, for certainly I slept nowhere yesterday.

Can't sleep in a train like mother; always feel too excited.'

'I don't like those grand people,' interrupted Netta, pouting.

'You will know them directly. But don't let out anything about the farm, or father and mother; papa and mamma now, little coz. Miss Simpson guesses it is an elopement, I think, but I haven't told her so. They are very great friends of mine; very grand people.'

'Quite like Lady Nugent, I suppose,' suggests Netta.

'Quite--grander indeed. Well, I have ordered the wedding-breakfast, carriages, everything. Never had such fun in my life. It was quite an excitement. You don't know half my talents yet.'

'Suppose brother Rowland were to hear of it?' says Netta, frightened at the idea.

Howel laughs aloud, and awakes his mother.

'He is east, we are west, my dear cousin. He is amongst the plebeians, we the patricians; he is _canaille_, we are _n.o.blesse_.'

'What are they, Howel?'

''Tis a pleasure to be hearing you talk, Howel,' says Mrs Jenkins, yawning and rubbing her eyes.

'I was saying, mother, that we are to have a grand wedding, and you must take care not to let anything come out about the shop, faugh! or, indeed, not talk much to the friends I have asked--Lady Simpson, for instance,'

'Oh, yes? you was telling me of her. Wasn't it when you was dining with Prince Albert wanst, and was wanting that money of my Griffey?'

'Do hold your tongue, mother,' shouts Howel, shuddering; he always shivers when he hears his father's name.

He sees a head trying to peep through the curtain, and thinks it best to hold his tongue for a time, then continues,--

'I mean, mother, don't mention my dining with the prince, or any of these old stories, to the Simpsons. You must both be very careful of what you say. I shall show you as much as I can of London to-morrow, mother, as you will be obliged to return the day after.'

'Deet now, I did be thinking I should stay a week in London, now I am going there for the first time in my life? I'll be staying after you, Howel, bach. I've plenty of money now.'

'You shall come up again to meet us when we return; but you must be at home to see to the house, and let us know what is said of our doings.

You see we shall go direct to Paris, stay some time abroad, and then come and settle at home. Won't we astonish the county! Mr and Mrs Howel Jenkins will be no longer the Howel and Netta of old days; we shall be the upon, not the fawners!'