n a step into the
kind heart of the worthy farmer.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE WIDOW.

'Whose grand groom is that, half afraid to ride through the yard?' asked
Mr Prothero, as he and his son Owen were standing by the big wheat-mow,
awaiting the arrival of a load of corn.

'I'll go and see what he wants,' said Owen, and off he went.

He returned, bearing a note for his father.

'He says he is Mr Griffith Jenkins's groom, and waits for an answer.
Howel doesn't do the thing by halves anyhow.'

'Mr Griffith Jackanapes!' said the farmer, breaking the seal of the note
hastily, and reading it.

Owen watched his countenance assume an angry expression, and then heard
him utter a very broad Welsh oath.

'Tell that feller there's no answer,' said Mr Prothero.

'What is it about father? you had better let mother see it first.'

'The impudent young ass! does he think I am to be taken in by all that
gold and plush? He shall never have my consent, and you may tell him so,
Owen.'

'Come into the house a minute, father, and let us see the note.'

They went into the house, the farmer giving an indignant grunt at the
groom as he passed.

'Mother, come here!' he roared as he entered the parlour, followed by
Owen.

The obedient wife left her kitchen and went to her husband.

'Read you it out loud, Owen.'

Owen read.

'SIR,--Being in a position to marry, and to marry any lady in the
county, I think you need not be surprised at my now aspiring to the
hand of your daughter, to whom I have been many years attached. I
beg, therefore, to say that my object in writing to you is, to ask
your permission to pay my addresses to her, and to make her my
wife. My attorney will see to any arrangements you may require as
regards settlements, which are matters of no importance to me,--I
remain, sir, your obedient servant,

'HOWEL GRIFFITH JENKINS.'

'The impudent scoundrel!' said Mr Prothero.

'Well, father, I don't see--' began Owen.

'You don't see, sir, I daresay you don't. Wasn't he as near ruining you
as possible! Didn't he teach you to gamble, and fleece you, and lead
you into all kinds of mischief? Didn't I forbid him the house for it?
Didn't he rob his own father, and make his mother miserable? Didn't he
drink and keep company with the worst profligates of the country? Didn't
he as good as rob me, sir, out of a ten-pound note when he was a bit of
a boy, and when I found i