‘No, Hetty, he is away in Malta, and not likely to be back for some time. But I’ve not spoken to my new brother-in-law yet. I suppose you can scarcely remember me, Will. Five years is a long time to be absent from the old home.’ ‘Oh! I remember you well enough,’ replied the young man shamefacedly, for he was rather taken aback at encountering such a fine lady, instead of the maid-servant he had expected to see. ‘I and my brother Hugh used to have fine games of cricket with you and my little Hetty here, on the island years and years ago. I suppose you’ve heard that Hugh has been elected to the ministry since you left Usk, Miss Llewellyn?’ ‘No, indeed, I do not think that Hetty has ever mentioned it in her letters to me. But I remember your brother quite well. He was a very tall, shy lad, fonder of reading than anything else, even when a little boy.’ ‘Yes, that’s Hugh,’ replied the young man, ‘and he hasn’t forgotten you either, I can answer for that.’ ‘I suppose it makes you all very proud to have a minister in the family, William?’ said Miss Llewellyn kindly. ‘That it does; and he’s a fine preacher too, as Hetty here can tell you, and draws the people to hear him for miles round, so that the parson up at the church is quite jealous of Hugh’s influence with his parishioners. And that’s something to be proud of, isn’t it?’ ‘It is indeed. And what are you, Will?’ ‘Oh, he’s a farmer, Nell,’ interposed Hetty, ‘and we are to live with his parents at Dale Farm as soon as we go back. So poor mother will be left alone. Oh, Nell, how I wish you could come back to Panty-cuckoo Farm, and stay with mother, now she’s lost me.’ Miss Llewellyn flushed scarlet at the idea. ‘Hetty, how could I? How could I leave my place where I have been for so many years now, to go back and be a burden on my parents? Besides, dear, I’m used to town life, and don’t think I should know how to get on in the country.’ ‘But you care for mother surely?’ said her sister, somewhat reproachfully; ‘and you can’t think how bad she’s been with sciatica this spring, quite doubled-up at times, and Dr Cowell says it’s bound to come back in the autumn. I’m sure I don’t know what she’ll do if it does! You should have heard how she used to cry out for you in the spring, Nell. She’s always wanting her beautiful daughter. I’m nothing to mother, and never have been, compared to you. And I’ve heard her say, dozens of times, that she wished that London town had been burned to the ground before the agency office had persuaded you to take service here. They do seem so hard on servants in this place. Here have you been five years away from home, and never once a holiday! I think Lord Ilfracombe must be very mean not to think that a servant girl would want to see her own people once in a way!’