ge and horses to be
prepared at once, and sent them and the coachman to Glanyravon Farm. The
man said it was as much as his place was worth to go; but Dr Richards
insisted, and he went.

In about two hours the carriage returned. Dr Richards heard the distant
sound of wheels, so did Netta. She opened her eyes, and with a painful,
eager glance, again said, 'Mother!'

Dr Richards left the room, and, to his great joy, welcomed Mrs Prothero
in the hall.

'Thank God, you are come! She is yet alive,' said he.

'I did not stop to ask David,' said Mrs Prothero, 'but came straight
away.'

She followed Dr Richards to Netta's room, and the feelings of the mother
and the daughter may well be imagined, as they thus met after such a
separation. Mrs Prothero turned away and wept--then prepared to wait
upon her child.

As the long absence of Howel, and his non-arrival day after day,
according to promises almost daily made, had caused Netta's extreme
prostration of mental as well as physical power; so the presence of her
mother appeared to revive and cheer her. Again she had some one near her
who loved her. Her mother, whom she had so grievously offended, had come
to her in trouble, and she was roused and comforted. The mother-in-law,
who had been so anxious to take her from her parents, did not fill their
places.

Whilst Mrs Prothero was tenderly nursing her daughter, and gently
assuring her of her love and forgiveness, Mrs Griffey Jenkins was
discussing her arrival with the various domestics and the nurse, who
went into an adjoining room to have her supper, where Mrs Griffey also
had hers.

Their conversation was carried on in an under voice, and between sips of
gin and water, Mrs Griffey said,--

'You do see, Mrs Gwillim, that if Mrs Howel was to die, my Howels 'ould
be seure to be marrying again. He could have anybody.'

'Of course, ma'am--of course.'

'There don't be a lady anywhere as 'ouldn't be proud to be marrying my
Howels. Up in London there's my Lady Sinclairs, and a hundred others;
and down here there's Miss Nugent, or Miss Gwynne. You do see, Mrs
Gwillim, that though Mrs Howels do be very respectable, she 'ouldn't be
Mrs Howel Jenkins, Abertewey, only my Howels was too honourable not to
be marrying her. I 'ould be sorry after her, but if she was to be taken,
why, she couldn't go at a better time. What was you thinking of her by
now?'

'Very bad, ma'am, very bad,' said Mrs Gwillim, ominously shaking her
hea