ey
journeyed on, Howel pointed out all the different objects that were
likely to interest his mother and Netta. Every one, or nearly every one,
knows what an exciting event is a first journey to London, it matters
not whether performed at eighteen or sixty-five. And if the first
journey to London be also the first journey by rail, the wonder and
excitement are doubled.

When Howel had finished all his instructions concerning the future, he
thoroughly entered into the present, and enchanted his companions by his
general knowledge of the passing scenes, and the amusing stories he had
to tell. Netta was more in love with him than ever before they reached
town, and wondered that such a grand and clever gentleman could have
kept constant to a little country cousin like herself. She had seen
nothing of Howel during the most stirring years of his life, and could
not have supposed what a change the mere commerce with the world could
effect. She considered him far more agreeable than her brother Rowland,
handsomer and more polished than Sir Hugh Pryse, and much more
fashionable than Mr Rice Rice.

At Swindon he treated them liberally, and loaded Netta with sweets to
take with her to the carriage after she had swallowed her cold chicken
and wine. As to his mother, knowing her peculiar tastes, he gave her a
glass of brandy and water, upon plea of illness, which she took with
evident pleasure; but fearing to attract the attention of the smart
people around her, sipped so daintly, that it was not half finished when
the signal to return to the carriages sounded, and Howel hurried her
off.

'Just let me put this piece of chicken and ham into my bag, Howel, and
finish this drop,' she whispered.

'Quick, mother, not a minute,' was all the answer she received,
accompanied by a pull of the sleeve so imperative, that she was obliged
to leave her half filled glass behind her.

At the Oxford Station, Netta began to wonder what Rowland would think of
her conduct.

'Think!' said Howel, with a scowling brow, 'the prig! what right has he
to think? He will know that three or four thousand a-year are somewhat
better than a London curacy--ha! ha! and wish himself in my place, I
fancy,'

As they neared London, Netta was haunted by visions of her brother, the
only person she really feared.

'Suppose he should meet them! should find her out! Suppose the clergyman
who married them should guess, from her name, she was his sister, and go
and