began the old
woman in Welsh.

'If you're come here to talk about her, I'll thank you to go away again,
and tell everybody you meet that they may have their nine days' wonder
about us anywhere but here,' roared Mr Prothero into Nancy's ear, who
was very deaf.

The old crones, knowing Mr. Prothero well, turned away quicker than
they came, and soon began to do his bidding, perceiving that he was in
an 'awful way.'

'Mr Prothero, do you know I have sent Mrs Prothero to bed,' began Miss
Gwynne, advancing towards him; 'she looks so very ill and unlike herself
that I am sure you must be careful of her for a time.'

'All that ungrateful, good-for-nothing daughter of ours, Miss Gwynne.
What would she care if she were to kill her mother? I know you are a
true lady and a kind friend, miss, and have more sense than all the rest
of the country put together, so I don't mind telling you what I think.
Those that disobey their parents'll be seure to come to a bad end.'

'We will hope the best, Mr Prothero; and you must remember that you have
your sons to comfort you.'

'Fine comfort to be seure. There's Owen as wild as an untrained colt,
and Rowland such a grand man up in London that he 'ont know his own
father by-and-by. Dining with bishops and rectors, and as fine as my
lord. I always told my wife that all Mrs Jonathan's eddication was too
much for us, and so it is turning out. We shall be left in our old age
to shift for ourselves; one son at sea, without a shirt to his back;
another preaching upon a hundred a-year--gentleman Rowland I call him;
and the third in a workhouse, maybe. And all this because brother Jo
must needs bring a fine lady amongst us, and with her nothing but
grammar-schools, boarding-schools, and colleges. My wife always spoilt
that girl.'

'Perhaps you helped a little bit, Mr Prothero,' said Miss Gwynne,
smiling, to stop the farmer's flow of words. 'But one couldn't help
spoiling poor--'

'There, don't you go for to take her part, miss. Name o' goodness, let
alone the girl. Beg pardon for being so rude.'

Here Gladys appeared, who had followed her mistress upstairs.

'Sir, the mistress is very ill. I think she would like to see you.
Perhaps you had better have a doctor.'

'Never had a doctor in my house since Netta was born, that's the trouble
she brought with her; I'd as soon have an undertaker. Send you for a
doctor, and everybody in the house is seure to be ill. He's infectious.
Excuse me, Mis